#but I’m excited for the dirty nasty shit this crazy man will do

[wraithdance]

I’ve been stuck on this concept for write-tober and this post got my brain going about Soap back from the dead but scary (and horny) unedited wip below the cut

There’s something wrong with Johnny.

You’re in the kitchen watching him over the island, slowly stirring the cream in your tea. Johnny’s back is towards you as he stares out into the quiet morning. His fingers are twitching on the windowsill. The movement is small, nearly imperceptible, but you can hear the tap-tap-taps sound in the quiet room.

Johnny has been back home for nearly a week now. You’d cried for days when you’d gotten the call from Laswell that he’d been found alive. You’d been broken beyond repair at the news of his death, had been close to following him into the void had Simon not made it his mission to keep you above water.

You think about the last time you saw Johnny as you coax him to the breakfast table to eat. Johnny flinches and stares at you with dull, flat eyes for something longer than a minute, before sitting where you’d placed his breakfast.

6 months prior to his death- disappearance- you’d been called to the hospital with news of Johnny being gravely injured.

You’d heard him recounting the tale of his injury in his boisterous way, he’d been laughing at his own jokes. You couldn’t help the gut punch of feelings that came over you.

Yours.

Your Johnny, vibrato and braggadocio. Sun kissed skin and cadence like thunder. Smoke and endless fire. Yours. Alive.

You stood there listening to him brag about his near death and your palms burned with the sting of your nails. The quiet hum of the hospital corridor and the tick of the analog clock across the hall were the symphony accompanying the emotion you couldn’t put a name to.

Molar grinding molar, Acrylic tipped nails meeting flesh. The tension radiating through your stiff limbs felt like the only thing keeping you upright.

“Aye LT yer lucky I took that bullet for ye, I expect ye to kiss the ground I walk on fer my troubles.”

He laughed loud. You shifted.

Ghost noticed you first in that watchful way of his. You felt the brush of his assessing gaze the second he spotted your taut form half hidden in the doorway. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you. Did his ears pick up the demons that brayed in your ears. The tongues that hissed the love of your life was a man dancing with death.

You looked at the entity Ghost (not Simon the man who’d drink tea with you and make comments on the state of your garden whenever he came over) wondering if the wraith could see how close you were to ruin.

“Ouch, There’s my Bonnie lass! C’me here give me a kiss why’re ye standing in the door like that hen?”

You didn’t move from where you’d drifted when he called out for your to touch him. You’d taken up sentry at the foot of his bed, hands gripping the railing tight enough to hurt. You couldn’t move.

You’d been too focused on the bandages that wrapped his torso tight. There’d been a spot of blood on the edges.

You stared and stared, watching the spot grow larger. Your mind creating visions of crimson swallowing his torso. Swallowing you with it.

Johnny makes another joke about surviving death and you snap like a wire.

“It’s not a fucking joke!”

your voice had been half shriek, half snarl. Your heart beating too fast for you to care about the ugly twist to your lips or the crazed way your eyes bore into your husband’s.

“Do you think this shit is funny?” You hiss leaning over the end of the bed. Your shaking hand gesturing at his wound and very state.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, just stares like he was seeing you for the first time.

You ask again. “Do you think this is fucking funny, goddamn it!”

“Hen-“

“No, Johnny, shut the fuck up! Why are you fucking laughing about this!”

Price stood and put his hands on your shoulders. You’d shaken him off, curling into yourself as you cried. You’d barely heard when Ghost called for the other men to leave the room, hadn’t noticed the door close shut. You’d been drowning.

Johnny called you. Hesitant, worried. You hated it.

“You’re such a bastard you know that?” You say after awhile.

You’d cut him off when he’d tried to soothe you but you can’t hear him. There’s blood pounding in your ears like a drum.

“I can’t do this without you.” You whisper, “I’m so scared all the fucking time Johnny. I’m so scared that you’re going to walk out that door one day and I’m not going to get you back.”

“ I’m scared that I stayed alive all those terrible fucking years to find you just to lose you. I dream about Simon knocking on the door one day telling me you’re gone. I get so sick to my fucking stomach even thinking about it because-

You burst into tears and Johnny looks at if he may do the same. His blue eyes are wet and his hand shakes as he reaches out for you. You go to him, collapsing in his arms and sobbing into the juncture of his neck.

“They’re going to have to bury me with you.”

Johnny makes a sound in protest, his fingers tightening around you but you were just being honest.

“I don’t think I could do this without you and I know I shouldn’t say that and I’m sorry I know it’s not fair I know you love your job and your team.”

You looked up at him then taking in his open crying.

“I know you love saving the world baby and I’m so so proud of you. It’s why I married you, it’s why you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

“you’re a good man baby, I just, I promised you that I would love you in every lifetime and I meant it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be careful.”

You’d wiped his tears laughing when he did the same to yours. His beard cut into your hand and the feel reminded you that he was alive. Here.

“wherever you go I’m following. I don’t care if I have to beg the devil himself to make it happen I’m going with you. Or you’re coming back to me.”

You’d meant it.

You watch Johnny now. His hulking form sitting at your table tearing into the blood sausage on his plate. His eyes meet yours, they’re black, there’s no trace of the electric blue that had stopped you in your tracks on first meeting.

He smiles, there’s blood on his lips.

“What’s wrong hen?”

You smile back, drinking your tea.

“Nothing baby, finish up your food.”

[allthingsarmin]

fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3

I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩

If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.

MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.

ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~

__________________________

Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3

[ticklygiggles]

Obey Me! N$FW Headcanons!

Written with @otomiya-tickles

Oh goodness, sweet Ginny and I are way too invested on these boys! We've been talking about the Obey Me boys' virginity and masturbating likings, and we decided to post these bunch of naughty hc’s. We hope you enjoy them~

Diavolo

We think this sweet looking guy has fucked at least once (don’t let him fool you, he’s fucked more than that)

We also think it can be because he was feeling horny and wanted to satisfy his needs or because he wanted something in return

When it comes to masturbating - he’s a shameless one

He’d go to the bathroom before a meeting or in the middle of the day to jerk off!

Goes back fresh as a lettuce, uf

One of Diavolo's fantasies is having someone looking at him while he masturbates!

He also has very sensitive nipples, you can’t change our minds

We think that when it comes to sex, Diavolo wouldn’t enjoy it as much if he’s not doing it with someone he loves

He’d just do it for some regular sexual thrill, but nothing too exciting

All for the dick, lololololol

Lucifer

Oh goodness, we think he wouldn’t be that interested about sex, but he’s up to do it if he feels the need!

We dare to say that he’d try to please Diavolo if he’s asked to, just like in our tickle hc’s!

L: “Fine. *sigh* if you must… Can I refuse?” D: “Noooo!!!” L: “Alright,, but make it quick” D: “I will, I will!!!”

Something like that, lolololololol

But sometimes when he sees how happy the other person gets he might smile a little (which is just too charming), or when he makes the other person feel real good

He will have a satisfied smirk

We think he’d be the pickiest little shit out there when it comes to choose a sex partner

He just won’t have sex with anyone! It doesn’t matter if they’re the most beautiful being alive, if there’s something he doesn’t like, then he won’t have sex with them!

Unlike Simeon, he’s not that flirty and doesn’t tease much, but of course he’d be so hard to get!

Both in ship and non-ship case, we think he’ll help Diavolo fulfill his sexual needs, but other than that he seems a very hard one to lay a hand on!

We thiiink Diavolo would make him watch while he masturbates, huhu

And Diavolo would be like “Touch my nipples?” and of course, Lucifer can’t deny him

We also think that since the MC manages to win him over, he just has the sexual hots for them!

We think Lucifer wouldn’t be horny for celestial beings since he wants nothing to do with heavenly things!

He knows and acknowledges angels are attractive but somehow horny is just not in his book

Unless with the one he really likes then he can be a beast xD

Omg, Lucifer banned the word Sex in the House of Lamentation, hahaha!

He really doesn’t like his brothers talking about sex. He’s just not interested in their sexual lives!

The horny bunch got their own chat room to talk about their nasty sex xD

Be it Mammon or Asmo talking about it (they both do it a lot) or they making remarks about Levi jerking off to things (Levi is flustered)

Those kinds of talks are not appreciated by almighty Lucifer

Asmodeus

Of course you won’t expect the Avatar of Lust to be a virgin, right? Because he is not!

He’d have sex with anyone attractive and that wants to have sex with him!

He’s also on the top of the masturbation list

Kinky bastard

Oh goodness, we think Asmo and Mammon have horny competitions like “how many times can you cum in one night?” or “how many times can you make your partner cum in one night?”

Actually these competitions were one of the reason talking about sex is banned in the House of Lamentation

Lucifer was like “Enough, you nasty pigs!” With that offended expression (you should know which one): wide eyes, a little gasp, a hand against his chest, yes. He’s pissed

Beelzebub

We think Beel is too busy with his food to notice that he has sexual needs

… Unless he’s making out with his S/O, then he realizes how needy he is!

He also likes to use his mouth! Be it nibbling, sucking, biting, licking, just everything!

He will eat the other person and make teasy remarks that they taste good!

He’s not necessarily kinky, but anything that includes food is a bonus for him!

Like whipped cream on his partner’s body or flavour oils!

We think Beel would come up to his s/o with his happy smile holding up a new flavour oil like “I got this. Let’s use it tonight!”

We also think he’d be so good at kissing (and blowjobs) because he uses his tongue a lot!

He’s an expert with his mouth. Just him kissing and sucking a neck can make a person weak already!

Barbatos

He’s also fucked before, so no Royal Virgins

We think he’s so into blowjobs and handjobs (mostly receiving)

He hardly ever jerked himself off, he will let others do it, omg!

He’s also so kinky: humiliating his partner, spanking, bondage, he’s up to everything

He's pretty resilient tho, like he can do a lot without getting hard yet hahaha!

Simeon

We have no shame. Where’s the fun if our hot angel is not in these hc’s?

We think Simeon is the candy everyone would want but can’t get!

Honestly, this man doesn’t need to be naked to turn people on!

He’s sexy and hot and hard to get, so he might please others sometimes

He doesn’t get touched or fucked easily because he’s definitely “keeping himself” for the person he loves!

He’ll give someone a handjob, but then the other person wants to do something back to him and he’s like “Naaaah” *graciously leaves*

We think he wouldn’t use his mouth on someone else, though, so he’d be like “Hmm? I can give you a hand job”, while he does a very dirty move with his hand, ay

He’s also extremely skilled at it! Like??? How?!

He’s also a tease!

He’d say things like “oh goodness, you’re so wet. Does it feel that good~?”

And it’s so frustrating because he doesn’t get hard! Only for the person he loves, fufu

Leviathan

It’s a dirty Otaku, no kidding LOL

We think he fantasizes, watches (you know what) and jerks off a lot

However, when it comes down to it he's shy and awkward

Definitely knows how to touch himself, but having someone touching him and/or touching someone???

Levi. exe has stopped working

He’s super subby and likes being told what to do, but he’s also cute and clumsy!

We think Levi is into many nasty things lolololol

As a dirty otaku he's seen a lot of things including the kinky shit: bondage SM/ tentacle sex (lolllll) so not really vanilla x'D he's just shy to ask or suggest anything

But he does get super hard whenever someone is dominant over him

He's definitely curious about all things he's seen, but he's way way too shy!

We think he probably just sends screenshots of the things he'd like to do and his partner is like "you want that? We can do it~"

We also think that he's jerked off so much and he knows how to please himself so well that it's a bit hard for him to come!

Like he needs a lot of pleasure and build up and other turn ons (like the kinky shit), and lots of verbal teasing to get him over the edge

Levi just needs a lot of stimulation, even though he is a virgin!

We also think he apologizes so much during sex! He’d be apologizing through all his moans and cries sdnjdsg

Like he will apologize if he doesnt come and then when he does come all over the other person he will apologize too haha

He's kinda into edging/denial? Like it takes a lot of time to make him cum, so it'd frustrate him so much if they stop when he's finally so close!

And he loves it when the other punishes him, like he doesn't necessarily act like a brat or something to be punished but he gets it on him anyway and when he does,it’s such a turn on for him haha!

He'd probably like to be spanked, but nothing too intense because he's baby

Levi usually talks SO much, so we think his dom can often tease him with that! Like “where are your big talks now~?”

To which Levi makes very courageous remarks like "don't touch me, normie" between moans and broken voice and his partner just "*spank* how did you call me?”

We think the whole concept of sex just changes him into this cute shy boy who's only had much experience with porn and fantasies

So he goes from the HOOOOOH loud Levi to just cute mewls, moans and apologies hahaha

We also think that he’d get ticklish when touched for the first tiiime, he’s so nervous and jumpy! Imagine him letting out this moany surprised giggles asjnd

He's also so ripped! He'd get flustered if you comment about his muscles!

His partner could be like "look how good your body is even if you're just an otaku staying inside all day long" and Levi is like "so meeaaan!!" All teary but his cock’s jumping skdjnff

While we do think Levi takes long to cum, he DOEs get hard pretty fast hahahaha

like maybe even when he's not fully undressed yet the bulge will already be visible!

We love cute kinky submissive dirty otaku boy >:)

Solomon

He’s kinky, HAHA

A top tease! Like 24/7 smug and teasy and he will make the receiver beg and ask for it and play dumb like "What do you want? You'll have to be specific."

He’s also very hard to please!

Like even to get him hard it’s hard xD he's enjoying his time with his s/o, but he's skdkf not hard!!

He can endure a lot without getting horny but he just loves to watch a person get weak under his touch

We think even when he's on the receiving end, he gets all teasy and constantly challenges the other, like “is that all you got? 8-) You gotta try harder~”

We also think he can control himself a lot! Like he can hold his orgasms for quite a long time and be like "I’m not even close~"

He rarely jerks off because he's not that entertained by it, he just needs someone to tease and make crazy haha

We love the idea of almighty Solomon getting overpowered by an even higher top!

We don't think he will ever 'break completely' and beg or do anything uncool but he'll definitely have less of an attitude once taken good care of

He’d be like "o-okay that's... That's enough" and his partner all like "huh? We're just starting, Solomon, so keep yourself together" while he blushes a lot!

He sounds so hot when he moans and gasps! His voice is a hidden treasure!

And once he finally DOES reach his orgasm his entire body gets sooo sensitive!

He'd be a whiny mess if his partner brushes their fingertips or nails against his skin!

He'd squirm so much and maybe let out a whiny giggle????

Belphegor

Belphie can be both genuine and teasy at the same time like "Does it feel good?"

He often needs confirmation and he often says things like "I'm inexperienced" or "I'm not sure how to do this" but he tries his best anyway

And besides saying things like "I'm inexperienced, I'm not sure what to dooo" he might say things like "Beel probably knows what to do." and he adorably tends to mention beel and the receiver will have to be like x3 omg no belphie you're doing fine

He'd be a little lazy to please his partner xD like he tries his best, but after he's like "I'm tired" and he wants to be taken care of!

He tends to get overwhelmed pretty fast by pleasure so he might ask the other to stop even when his body doesn't want it to stop but he's just like PSPHHgailugigh

He probably comes too fast the first times he has sex with his partner! He maybe just cums when they play with his nipples because he’s that sensitive!

He is so sensitive and his moans are so cute and whiny

We think he might be sore the next day xD he will complain a lot about being sore and tired haha

His body also gets tired fast during any intercourse, even though he does feel good and enjoys it, he will whine and whimper about it haha

He’d like to find little hickeys on his neck, chest or thighs the next day too!

He’s also very sensitive to neck kisses, probably enough to already stimulate him sexually since he’s so sensitive!

His little moans would be the cutest! And if he gets to make the other party feel good, he will show his precious smile!

Satan

We think Satan wouldn't be too interested in sex, (he spends his time trying to be better than Lucifer skdndnd)

BUT we also think that he reads erotic books every once in a while and like those book don't necessarily turn him on per say, but make him feel blushy and a bit giddy about having someone to enjoy sexy times with!

He'd be quite knowledgeable and a bit shy like “I read that this feels good, may I?” He is not like super horny but he likes to experiment a bit and is just so sweet 😍👏🏻

He's got skills to make his partner feel good, but he'd be so, so blushy and would feel flustered if his partner compliments him about how good he is!

ALSO! Someone should not mention Lucifer in any competitive matter because that might activate his hidden beast

When he's receiving, he tries to hold himself back so much! Like his moans and any noises!

He just wants to hide how sensitive he really is!

His s/o would be a little pouty like "are you not liking it?" and he just adorably nods but he keeps controlling himself as much as possible hehe

And sometimes a cute little moan escapes and he blushes so much omg

Also he has super sensitive nipples, if he gets touched there he'd be arching his back so much and would cover his mouth with one of his hands to hold back his sounds and would grip the sheets with his free hand!! He'd be all beggy like "please don't touch me there~" while his hips circle and thrust because it feels so good!

We think bondage will work really good on him since he tends to squirm a lot and cover up. He’s so helpless if he can’t!

He'd be pulling at his restrains and biting his lip so hard and begging for his s/o to let him go (even though he can escape on his own), and they're just teasing him

He’d also get extra sensitive if he’s being edged, like everytime they deny him his release, he'd just feel more and more sensitive and eventually won't be able to stop his sounds!

Satan begs a lot and he whines adorably but he’ll never say a safe word or give up

Satan being like this makes us want to wreck him!

We think he'd get a bit turned on if his s/o brush their fingers against his sides and he’d be so shy if he lets out a little giggle here and there!

"don't- don't tihihickle me right nohohow!" And his cock is shaking dkdnf

He’s also the type to get ticklish and super sensitive everywhere especially after an orgasm

And his giggles and moans are so cuuute and he sounds tired and whiny and he shakes his head adorably omg

His cheeks super red babyyyyyy

Mammon (tumblr didn't let me upload a pic, wtf?)

He’s a beast! Will have no mercy, so brace yourself!

To be fair, he’s really good in sex, so he loves praises! Compliments stimulate him. He needs to hear how good he is!

What can you expect from the Avatar of Greed, right?

He’s the typical guy to run after his dick, lololol! He’s all about money and sex!

We think he gets horny and hard in the most uncomfortable moments. He gets so many boners a day wtf

Even his brothers just stare awkwardly at his crotch… “wait… are you hard? o_O”

We also think he loves receiving blowjobs and he loooves to hold his partner by their hair!

He’s a passionate mouth fucker

He probably feels a bit vulnerable when people touch him elsewhere like, he just wants the attention for his dick!

And he might be sensitive somewhere else but he doens't quite like to be touched unless it's his love haha

He's really picky! Like if he's with someone else, then it's just dick attention, but if it's the person he loves, then they'd let him touch him everywhere!

He's a bit less casual about it than Diavolo, but he does jerk off from time to time and people will be able to tell from the look on his face haha

And he doesn't like to be confronted and teased with it, while Diavolo won’t give a shit

However, Asmo would tease him so much just because he knows Mammon hates that!

He’d be like "woah! Did you have a good one, Mammon~?" or “what did you think of mammoonnn?<3”

Also Asmo and maybe even the others might make some remarks like "Ugh, Mammon would jerk off to this"

Probably besides Asmo he might have some arguments with Levi from time to time, like Mammon's a nasty perv normie and Levi the dirty otaku

Levi would probably agree whenever someone's like “ugh Mammon would jerk off to this” or any other remark like “oh, he probably just gonna suck on his own dick!

And mammon will fire back at Levi for being a dirty otaku

We also think that Mammon has walked into Levi's room when he was watching anime porn hahaha

Mammon thinks his own porn is superior and Levi is like "that normie stuff is gross, this is way better" so Mammon ends up watching hentai with Levi xD

Also if people ever need condoms he probably has a good stash. He's really picky, so of course he'd have his stash of condoms! We're not risking anything here hahaha

It’s hard to Dom him, like he’s not super Dom, but he likes to be the possessive one!

He also might have a lot of kink stuff stored but in the end he just doesn't end up using it?

He would like to be kinky but in the end he just has normal sex

He’s also easy to distract! Like he's super horny and has the handcuffs or something else kinky ready, but the other person just can give him a blow job and let him fuck them and then it's done and he's like ohh oh well

He'd also be a bit turned off easily, like, he's still hard and all, but at then he ends up having sex just because, but he's bored, but if he's turned ON he can stay turned on for quite a while haha hes a beast!

Like fuck after fuck even after he comes! He likes it raw and he loves to hear his partner whining so much about how they just came too

He also likes to hear his partner saying just how tired they are and he'd give them this wide, lethal smirk and be like "we're just starting, so put yourself together"

And he's sweating a bit and his cheeks are a bit flushed and his skin just glooowwsss because he's feeling so good!

We also think Mammon is not too loud when having sex, he’s just not a moaner, but he will grunt and huff and occasionally you'll hear this kind of growl that just proves how good it makes him feel

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains / Misc x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: You accidentally summon Beetlejuice because he convinced you that he could help you with your Slasher problem, but he becomes an even worse problem. So, you need your Slasher to help you exterminate him, instead.

Includes: Chucky / Charles Lee Ray and Freddy Krueger

Warnings: It’s got nasty gremlin man in it (Meaning, gross language, dirty jokes and such), and also Slashers (Meaning, gore, swearing, course and suggestive language). Groping (Himself) 

Notes:

Okay, those of you who were with me at MainstreamBaddies; You remember that post I wrote about some rando killer trying to get the reader, so reader goes to the Slasher that’s also trying to kill them for help?

Well this is basically that but with (Movie) Beetlejuice as the rando.

THERE WAS MEANT TO BE MORE CHARACTERS!! But its late and I wanna slep ^^ Hopefully I’ll do Ghostface and Jason tomorrow! 

~~~

THE START / ‘Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice’

“So��� “Worrying my bottom lip, I look from the wall where I can think properly to the small, ‘fun size’ version of ‘Beetlejuice’ who’s looking expectantly at me. Excited even. 

Although I guess that’s a given. If I was that small and had the possibility sitting right in front of me, of growing back to full size, and full power again, I’d be jazzed too. But, still, there’s something very off about this guy, and it isn’t just the fact that he’s the size of maybe 2 thumbs snapped off at the knuckle and taped one on top of the other. He’s very enthusiastic.

In a Gollum-Swamp Monster-Chick Hicks kind of way.

“’So’, what? I don’t have all day baaaaaay – well, I do have all day. I got nowhere to be – not many fun joints for a guy to go to at this size, amiright? Yeah, but, that’s not the point! Do you wanna get rida’ your lil’ problem or not? Eh?” Beetlejuice is practically vibrating, like an alarm clock and I have the most impulsive urge to call his name three times just to stop it.

Luckily, I have impulse control.

“Of course, I do. I… “Eyeing him pointedly, I start wringing my hands. “I just don’t want to create a new problem, in its place.”

He rolls his dark, feral racoon-panda eyes, muttering something lightning quick to himself before throwing out his arms and yelling. “BABE! I promise ya, really, sweetheart. Baby-lemon pie-dumpling-doll-dollar-sugar-tea, I’m just gonna fix your problem! All I want in the world right now is t’ cum-plete our deal! Get rida’ your Slasher, and be on my way! Unless theirs somethin’ else you ask of me, eh? When I’m back to my normal size? You know, I’m big in all the right places sugar tit- “

I took a deep, necessary breath in when he started on the ‘something else’ and now have the required breath to drown out the last words. “Oooookay!! I wont need that.” I say quickly, as a statement. He licks his lips. “But, um… Are you sure you can get rid of them?” ‘Them’. The bane of my existence right now. The co-star in the horror movie of my life. That them.

“Trust me, babe-sickle. It’ll be sinch.” For a moment, he looks absolutely calm. No vibrating, no yelling, no talking really fast. And it hits its intended mark – my assurances. Okay.

“Alright.” I wring my hands one last time, then clap them and step back from the town diorama that Beetlejuice is roaming in. I cross my arms, then drop them to my sides and look around, then finally back at the impatient ghost… who’s doing squats. Good grief, how much energy is in this guy? “Beetlejuice.”

He gasps, jumps up to his feet, nearly falling over because his weight landed wrong and then rubs his hands together. “Here we go!”

“Beetlejuice.”

“Oh. You do it right, babe.”

Oh my god, here we go. Hopefully this can’t make my situation any worse- I mean, I am being targeted by a killer. What are the odds that this goofball of a ghost could ruin my life anymore? “Beetlejuice.”

“PRESTO!”

Human! Chucky / Charles Lee Ray – Chucky’s POV:

I figure this is going to be a pain, when a screech tears from the ugly old house before I even get in. Confused, and more then frustrated because this spells out nothing but problems for me for when I get in, instead of the nice peaceful kill I was intending to enjoy, I open the screen door -bitch didn’t even lock the front door, it’s like she wants me to kill her,- and rush up the stairs to where the sound came from. “Hold on, I’m not there yet!!”

What the hell is going on?!

“Look, in my professional experience, the screamin’ doesn’t start til the killer takes out a knife, sometimes even before but not before I even get into the house, lady. The audacity of you, here- “

What am I looking at here?

In front of my eyes, my fucking eyes, stands of course Y/N, my victim. And some kind of zebra - one that’s been dead and left out in the swamp for a fuck-long time. He’s got crazy eyes if I’ve ever seen them, and have you seen mine? That’s saying something. Who is this joker? In my coat, I grip the gun I keep just in case strangulation goes awry, but don’t bring it out just yet. Not until this guy reveals his cards, first.

The guy’s eyes flicker in smug amusement from my face, to my gun pocket -evidently, he realises something’s up. Can’t blame the guy, damnit, -, then whips right around, leaving his back wide open for me and my weapon, to my facepalming victim. I smirk at her. “I take it that’s the guy you want rid of, toots?”

“Uh… yeah… “She looks adorable and awkward. The guy lets go of her waist, which he was holding close to his body as she leaned away before, when I walked in and he literally, and I’ve never seen any person do this before, halted in his tracks. Stopped breathing, stopped shifting, it even seemed like the history around him stopped for that ‘caught’ moment. And I swear I heard the sound of record music abruptly being turned off come from his mouth.

And for some odd reason, I get the feeling he’s not human. Can’t conjure a reason why, though.

I should be saying this shit out loud, I’m wasted on myself.

Figuring this guy’s been hired to get rid of me, I take out my gun. “Okay, you’re gonna have to catch me up on what’s happening... Oh, no? Well, okay.”

BAM!

A bullet flies across the room and sticks into the freak’s chest, and that is the end of things going my way.

Because the force of the bullet somehow sends him slamming across the room and through a wall in the back. His body goes ‘poot’ down two stories outside and theirs a silence that doesn’t last long enough for either Y/N or I to digest what just fucking happened before the bastard’s grotty fucking hand spiders up my spine from behind. I wriggle out of his reach immediately on impact, because it’s like a real fucking spider, and whip around, waiving my gun- which is useless now, of course.

Games are over.

The guy looks over at Y/N and grins, throwing his arms out in a ‘ta da!’ way. She winces and just narrows her eyes in a glare. “What’d you think of that, sweet cheeks? I got a flare for the dramatic, you know? Ssssexy! Eh?” When she sticks her tongue out at him, for lack of any words to respond to that with I guess -I mean, I, can think of some choice words for the guy, but she’s clearly not as creatively gifted in the art of insult as I have been told I am. But, a tongue out works, - he grins the most fucking horny grin I’ve ever seen and clutches his sack. Her jaw drops.

“Where the ever-loving fuck did you pick crazy pants up from??” I ask, looking accusingly at Y/N. She chews on the inside of her cheeks and looks even more awkward then before.

“Truce?” She asks, instead of answering my question. I’m genuinely curious.

I roll my eyes. “Ughh, fine.”

“Oh well that won’t do,” The guy speaks up again, looking between us and letting his Johnson go, thank god. The boys have to breath! “Baby girl, blossom, light of my FUCKING DEATH! You wound me. riGHT IN THE HEART! Let me show you, sweetgums, why that was a bad idea.”

Her eyes widen, and I suddenly feel real unsafe. “How about you don’t- “

“Watch this!”

He turns to me, makes some overdramatic hand gestures, throwing his back out in the process and momentarily acting like he’s out of order.

Then he whips back into action and shoots me with finger guns,

And then suddenly everything around me looks 4 times bigger then before. Oh, well, its that or… I’m closer to the ground.

Because I’m a fucking doll again.

I slowly look up from the little black baby shoes and the edges of the godamn jean jumpsuit, to the infected condom in black and white grease paint. “… You son-of-a-bitch.”

He chuckles and turns to Y/N, and gives her finger guns too, but the only other thing that happens this time is he winks at her. “Now, baby! Time to get hitched!”

“What?!” She shrieks.

Freddy Krueger – Freddy’s POV:

“I’m going to die of boredom before this bitch catches winks. I’m gonna pummel her with the counting sheep she clearly needs when she gets here.” The corners of my mouth lift up from the deep scowl I was wearing before, at the idea. It has merit.  

Behind me the fine folks of Pompeii run for their lives and a red and green striped Vesuvius explodes molten lava over their little town when I remember it’s been 2 days since she’s fallen asleep. Or found some fucking Hypnocil. Or killed herself. Who knows, really. I have a… deadly effect on women.

But damn, it would be a bummer if she killed herself. I was having fun with her. I had plans.

Have, have. I have plans. I won’t give up hope yet.

An hour, or who knows how long later -time is a human construct and doesn’t exist in the dream plain, - , I’m lying on the ground watching Psycho play in the sky when that familiar tingle rushes through me, telling me someone’s entered my world.

I’m just getting up and brushing myself off, taking my damn time like she left me to wait -besides, I can turn back time and make it seem like I appeared instantaneously if I want to. Time’s a construct, remember? And this is my world. I’m just doing this for me, to make me feel better, - when she comes out of fucking nowhere and nearly knocks me over. Im-ee-diate-ly I open my mouth to ask her why she’s so eager, but she beats me to the punch, causing me sadness.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Hold on, I definitely think there’s something off here. Don’t I make the fucking demands?! “Bitch- ”

“Wake!”

“-I haven’t done anything to you yet.” 

“Up!”

“Goddamn!”

What is going on here!?

“I’ll do anything you want, just please. Wake me up!” Her eyes are deadly serious, and I can’t help the greedy smile I get at her submissive idea. What could have made her this way? I laugh.

“Ohhh, I’ll think it over. Tempting offer, though~” She lets out a growl and let’s go of me in pure frustration, looks around quickly for something and then lays eyes on my glove. She picks it up, and my eyes widen in surprise at what she does next.

The blade slices through the skin in her upper arm before I can take any control of the situation, and a nauseous feeling suddenly rolls me and she whimpers from the pain of slicing herself open, as the world goes blurry around us and she wakes up- of course, still holding my glove, which is attached to me, so I go with her.

“Fucking he- “

Much quicker than you think it will be, we both turn up back in the fucking reality. She hops up immediately and flies across the room to a first aid box.

I’m just assuming, I mean. Because I don’t make any move to leave the bed at all and just close my eyes and groan, and resist the urge to cry.

I hate this placceeeeeeeeee.

“BABES, YOU’RE BACK!”

Now I resist the urge to scream and phase out of existence, because a man just appeared on the bed with me and called me his babes. Instead, I slowly turn my head to him and sinisterly narrow my eyes- and hope he doesn’t notice my distress from a second ago.

I’m starting to understand why Y/N was so intent on getting back here. If this guy, a dung beetle with… oh, god. Clearly, some kind of terrible illness if that smell indicates anything, was hanging around me while I slept, I’d be… slightly bothered too. If only for the stink!

He squints, and while he does, his hair flickers through the various colours in the rainbow, confused. “Sweetbottom, theirs something different about you. Did you get contacts?”

As a knee jerk reaction, I stab him in the gut with my blades. “Stranger danger, bitch!”

My panic dissolves into glee as I jerk the knives upwards… just to turn back into panic when he starts tearing all the way in half from my stab wound up to the top of his head with minimal effort from me. I gulp, and retreat from him to where Y/N is, taping her bandages securely around her arm. I gesture to the freak who’s padded onto the floor and is zipping himself back together in front of my eyeballs. “… the fuck is that?”

“That’s Beetlejuice, he’s a ghost=

“With the most, baby.” ‘Beetlejuice’ stands up straight and rests his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and winks at Y/N. 

“-What do we do?”  She asks, looking with wide eyes at me. 

What does she think I am? The Fairy Godmother of the dead?? I’m no godmoth-

… I could use this. A slow grin spreads across my mouth. “First, you go over there and distract him.” 

For a split second she looks like she’s actually going to go with it, then looks with furrowed, unimpressed eyebrows at me. ‘Beetlejuice’ makes grabby hands at us, and she starts to look more panicked by the second. “And what will you do??”

I yank the bedroom door open. “Run!!”

[phykios]

people on ao3 were thirsty for this fic so... here you go, tumblr ❤ 

put on the red light M, sex work au, modern royalty au, no powers au  [read on ao3]

🌊🌊🌊

Sometimes, she really regrets being best friends with Piper.

Said best friend still gapes at her from across the table, jaw practically on the floor. “Never?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Never.”

“Not even, like, at school?”

“When I would have had the time?” she asks. “I was attempting a five-year program in four years, and then… well, you know.” And she does know, all about the very exciting drama that went down in Annabeth’s senior year.

Piper is still flabbergasted. “Not even high school?”

Annabeth takes a sip of her drink. “I wasn’t exactly a hot commodity in high school.” She’d been passively pretty all her life, but she hadn’t exactly been what some might call Girlfriend material, capital G. She’d stuck to her fifteen year plan to the letter, eschewing most social contact, working herself into the ground to overcome ADHD by sheer force of will and get into Harvard, a plan which allowed approximately zero time for a boyfriend. Not that there were even boys that she had really liked at the time.

The only boy she had ever considered liking in that way, well. She had lost contact with him a while ago.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it or not, Ripley, it’s true. I’ve never had sex. You happy?”

“I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, are you ace?” Piper asks. “Because that’s totally cool, of course.”

She shakes her head. “Definitely not ace.” She has a minor collection of personal massagers and insertable devices should she ever need to take care of an urge, and plenty of fantasies she can call on whenever the need arises--a system which has worked just fine for years.

“I just…” Piper stares, unconvincingly. “How?”

Shrugging, she takes another sip of coffee. “Just never got around to it, I guess.”

It’s not something she’s proud of, but by the same token, it’s not something that brings her shame, either. It is what it is; Annabeth, a notable workaholic, has never had sex with another person in her life. In some ways, it sucks, sure, but in other ways, it’s been a blessing in disguise. After all, no previous partners means that there’s no one to spread any dirt on the newly minted Princess Anja Elisabet of Sweden.

But Piper isn’t having it.

“Do you… want to have sex?” she asks. “Like, ever?”

As the daughter of one of the biggest movie stars in the world, she knows that Piper has had her fair share of high profile relationships, something that earned her a little bit of a nasty (and, quite frankly, racist) reputation among the paparazzi, which is ridiculous, since Piper is one of the most effortlessly gracious and classy people Annabeth knows. Piper does not go slinging herself and her partners around in the media like some of her contemporaries; instead, she likes to keep her personal details a bit closer to the chest, sharing them only with trusted confidants, like Annabeth, who knows full well how much Piper enjoys the act of sex. Sex for Piper isn’t dirty or taboo, it’s fun and it’s being close with other people, it’s liberating and exciting and intimate, and she extols its virtues whenever asked to give her opinion.

She makes sex sound really good, but never in a way that makes Annabeth feel ashamed for never having done it. Until now, of course. “Well… yeah,” says Annabeth. “I’d like to. I mean, I think it’d be kind of nice, you know, to do it at least once.”

“But then you’d have to start dating,” Piper surmises.

“Yeah,” says Annabeth, glumly.

Dating is a notorious problem for people in her line of work. Royalty, not architects, that is. Dating for architects is easy; just find someone who doesn’t mind the type A personalities and the obsession with work. Dating for royals is… significantly harder, and not really something she wants to engage with right now. She’s only been a royal for a few years, after all—she still feels like it’s a big cosmic joke, that someone is going to unearth some old documents or reveal a couple of forgeries that will bring the whole thing crashing down, and she doesn’t want to bring an outsider into all that drama, let alone deal with it herself.

Piper takes a sip of her drink, thoughtful, then lays out her next question carefully. “Have you ever considered a one-night stand?”

Annabeth stares. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not! People do it.”

“Yeah,” she scoffs, “people. Not me.”

“It’s really not hard,” Piper says, “I’ve done it plenty of times.”

“What, you want me to make a tinder?”

She laughs. “God, wouldn’t that be a riot. But no, I mean, there have to be other single royals or celebs around. Why not one of them?”

“Because they’re all insufferable social-climbing jackasses that make me want to rip my skull out of my face every time I’m forced to listen to them at a state dinner.”

“Okay, then.” Never one to be deterred, Piper pulls out her phone, then waits until Annabeth has taken a sip of her drink, presumably to keep her from immediately disagreeing, before dropping the bomb to end all bombs. “Let’s get you an escort.”

Annabeth snorts iced coffee directly out of her nose.

“Shit! Sorry!” Piper shoves a handful of napkins at her. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, do you need water?”

Wheezing, Annabeth shakes her head. “Give me a sec,” she coughs, fingers covering her mouth.

Thank God she’s got her trusty, anti-pap hat on. If anyone took a picture of her like this, her uncle would probably disown her.

“What the hell, Piper?” she rasps when she can finally breathe again.

“I’m so sorry, I should have timed that better.”

“No, I mean—”  she coughs again. “The other thing.”

She raises an eyebrow. “The escort?”

“Keep your voice down!” On instinct, she glances around the London cafe, looking for any stray microphones. Satisfied that no one is listening for the moment, she turns back to her insane best friend. “Yes, the… that thing.”

“It’s not that crazy,” says Piper, turning back to her phone. “We’ll find you a really nice one, someone super high class and discreet, draw up an NDA, and then you can cross it off your bucket list. Man or woman?”

“Man, but—" she sputters. “I—I can’t see a prostitute! Can you imagine the scandal if it got out?”

Forget the iced coffee thing. The princess of Sweden, caught with a hooker… Annabeth is nauseous just thinking about the media circus.

“Not a prostitute,” Piper corrects. “An escort.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Same umbrella, but no.” She types away, faster than Annabeth can keep track of. “Pimping is illegal here, but escorts usually have managers.”

“Be that as it may,” because Piper seems to have forgotten the key part of this conversation, “I can’t have sex with an escort.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” The million and a half legitimate reasons not to go through with it all fly through her mind, getting lost somewhere on the way to her mouth. “Because!”

Piper just smiles at her. “I’ll get you a really nice one, promise. Think of it as a late birthday present.”

“It’s September.”

“Early Christmas, then.” And she grins, full of teeth. “Just trust me, okay? Let me take care of it.”

Famous last words, she thinks, popping a bit of scone in her mouth.

***

7PM, the Dorchester Hotel. Dinner first, then… whatever, later.

Annabeth can’t help but arrive early. She’d never been a punctual person before, but apparently now it’s been beaten into her with all the rest of her princess training.

Five-star hotels are still something of a novelty for her, even though she’s stayed in quite a few by now. Thankfully she’s never stayed here before; she’d be too worried someone on staff would recognize her.

She had thought that she’d show up early, psych herself up a little, get emotionally prepared, or at least have a little time to calm her racing heart before her… date… showed up.

Unfortunately, as punctual as she is, apparently, he’s beaten her to the punch.

He’s exactly where he said he’d be, wearing exactly what he said he’d be wearing; black suit, blue tie, gold watch. Her heart is beating so loudly, she’s sure he can hear it from across the room. “Um, excuse me,” she asks, a little more timid than she’d like, sidling up to the man. “Paris?”

At his name--well, she assumes it’s his name, but it’s probably a pseudonym now that she thinks about it--he lifts his head up, his lips already quirking up in a smile that she can only describe as troublemaking. “Bethany?”

Right. She used a pseudonym as well. A second pseudonym—one other than Anja. “Yeah,” she smiles in return, her shakiness easing.

“Hey!” He stands up from his seat in the lounge, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“You too.” She realizes with a pang; he is so tall. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist, startlingly green eyes and thick, curly black hair. And… “You’re American?”

“I am,” he says, unashamed. “The accent gave me away, huh? Hope you weren’t looking for something else.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she assures him. “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s fine!"

He grins, crookedly, and she feels her heart skip a beat. “I’ll take it. Shall we head to dinner, then?”

***

Dinner was amazing, of course. The food, the atmosphere, and the company, she fully admits—all exceptional. Paris is an amazing conversationalist, she discovers, smart and funny and attentive, even gently teasing her a little. “You’re American, too, you know,” he’d said, sipping on his glass of wine, “so you can’t give me any grief over my lack of an accent.”

“I don’t live here,” she’d retorted, pointing her fork at him, “unlike some people I could mention.”

“Where do you live?”

“Ah, well—” Covering up her hesitation by taking a bite of chicken, she’d thought quickly. “Grew up in the States, but recently I moved to, um, Sweden, to be closer to my family.”

He’d nodded. “Expat, huh?”

“Something like that.”

He’d listened to her, really listened, chimed in at appropriate moments, made surprisingly insightful comments about her job and her life, and, well, he’s kind of perfect. If he weren’t an escort, he’d make an amazing boyfriend. She tells him as much, in the elevator on the way up to his room.

“Aw, thank you!” He smiles at her, a single dimple popping out under his strong cheekbones. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“Why do you do this, anyway?” she asks. “I mean,” oh God, that question is some kind of faux pas isn’t it, Christ what the hell happened to all her etiquette training, “you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to—”

“No, it’s okay,” he says as the elevator door opens. They’re up on a high floor, where the higher high rollers like to stay, and she follows him as he walks confidently down the hallway. “It’s not an offensive question.”

Still, she feels pretty shitty for asking. “I’m sure you get asked that all the time.”

“Most clients honestly aren’t all that interested,” he admits, shrugging a shoulder. “They need something, I can provide it. It can be a little transactional at times, but I’ve met a lot of really cool people, so it all balances out in the end.” Arriving at their door, Paris swipes his keycard, holding it open for her like some kind of butler. “After you.”

The room is enormous, even for a five-star hotel. It is a full-on suite, with a seating area and separate bedroom, a large wooden desk off to one wall, a gorgeous, floor-to-ceiling window that looks onto Hyde Park, full of lights dotted about like mini constellations. “Wow,” she breathes, “look at that view.”

“I never get tired of it,” Paris says, coming up behind her. “No matter how many times I come here.”

“You come here a lot?” she asks. She almost follows it up with a question on how he can afford it, but she ruthlessly quashes that down.

“My clients like it,” is all he says.

“I’m not surprised, all that 1930s deco in the lobby. The façade is a little plain, though, in my opinion.”

“Oh yeah? How would you do it better, Miss Architect?” She gets the sense that he’s teasing her. It feels oddly intimate for the situation—he’s not a friend, or a boyfriend, or even a date. He’s an escort. Providing a service, as he put it. He shouldn’t be so friendly with her.

And yet. “Well, I love Neoclassical, but honestly, I’m not super into hotels.”

“What are you into, then?” Casually, he undoes his tie, sliding it off his neck. She swallows.

“Um.” Focus, girl. “Office buildings, monuments. I dunno. I just want to… I just want to build something good, you know? Something permanent. Proof that I was here, you know?”

“Something permanent, huh?” He speaks softly, a respectable distance away, but she’s drawn in anyway, by his open shirt collar and his easy demeanor and his stupid sea green eyes that remind her so much of— “That sounds really nice.”

Then he steps up to her. His hand, warm and big, draws up her arm, fingers tracing lightly over her skin, and she shivers. He cups her neck, fingering the hair at the base of her scalp, and leans in, his lips parted. He smells like salt, like the perfume of the wine they shared, like the sea on a sunny morning.

“Wait,” she murmurs against his lips.

Immediately, he pulls back. “Is something wrong?” he asks, concerned.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just—” She swallows, her heart racing. “I just need a minute.”

“Of course.” He takes a step back, and she has to stop herself from pulling him in further. “Do you need anything? Water, champagne? They always stock the minifridge.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just, I’ve never… done this before.”

“What, hire an escort?” He grins, rakish. “I can tell.”

“Not that—I mean, yes, that too, but I mean—I’ve never—” She huffs, annoyed she has to have this conversation twice in one week. “I’ve never had sex before, okay?”

That shocks him a little. His eyes widen, taken aback. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Chuckling weakly, she rubs a hand on her arm, looking out the window. “So… yeah.”

“So, don’t take this the wrong way,” says Paris, “but, there are easier ways to get laid than by using a professional. I mean, I’m grateful for the business and all, but, well, look at you.” He looks her up and down, somehow simultaneously respectful and entirely indecent. “I don’t think you’d have a problem getting a date.”

“It’s… complicated.” Understatement of the fucking millennium. “My friend thought this would be the easiest way to… go about it.”

Paris laughs. “You don’t agree.”

“I don’t… not agree,” she says. “I’m just. A little nervous.”

He nods. “I’d bet.” Chewing his lip, he looks towards the bedroom suite, and Annabeth tries not to think about how those teeth would feel on her mouth instead. “How about this; why don’t you take a shower? It might help calm you down a bit.”

“Won’t you be lonely?” she quips, a moment of reckless bravery.

“I have a few calls I can make,” says Paris, eyes dancing. “Go on. Make yourself comfortable.”

***

She has to hand it to the five-star hotels; the shower is always outstanding. Amazing pressure, amazing heat, it definitely rivals the plumbing in some of the castles she’s stayed at. And the robes, always so soft and warm, though a little on the small side. This one just barely covers her ass, which she figures isn’t a huge problem for tonight, but still.

When she steps out of the bathroom, she can hear Paris talking. “Uh huh,” he says. “Yeah. No, it’s going great. Professor Kleio said she’d write me a recommendation. She was really impressed with the last build. Yeah.” She runs her fingers through her wet hair, pushing it back from her face. “No, the conference is next month. Probably. Pretty sure I can get Tyson to help, but I don’t think it’ll get that far before the end of the week. Uh huh.”

Paris had taken off his suit jacket at some point; she can see it hung up in the closet on a hanger, perfectly pressed. He’s still in his shirt, but he’s unbuttoned it, the sleeves rolled up around his forearms. It is effortlessly attractive, even from the back. She coughs lightly, unwilling to startle him, and he turns, giving her another up-and-down, this one decidedly less respectful than the first.

“Hey, I gotta go, I’ll call you tomorrow. Say hi to Estelle for me. Love you.” And he hangs up.

“Your girlfriend?” she asks.

He smiles, all soft. “My mom.”

Something in her melts at his tone. “Aw,” she coos. “Is she back in America?”

“Yeah. I don’t get to see her all that often, so I try to call her every day.”

It is so unfathomably sweet, sweet and… humanizing, as weird as that sounds. He’s not just an unbelievably handsome man with a jaw cut like a diamond and a five-star rating, according to Piper, he’s a person with a whole other life that she knows nothing about. It’s liberating, in its own way. She can make mistakes with him, and he’ll understand. He won’t judge her, not against his other clients, or even his other partners.

Swallowing, she slides the robe off her shoulders, slowly, achingly. Maybe he turned the heat up while she wasn’t looking, because all of a sudden, she feels hot all over, from her cheeks to her chest and down, and down. Maybe it’s all coming from him, from the heat of his gaze on her, his pink tongue coming out to wet his lips. She wants it, wants them, wants him, on her and in her and all over her.

But he stays on his side of the room, waiting for her to take the plunge.

She steps up to him, close but not touching, breathing in the heady, strong scent of him, raking her eyes up his body for a change. Even through his shirt, she can tell he’s fit, the exposed skin of his arms tanned a deep brown, thick, coarse, dark hair running up to his wrists. On his right arm, there is a black trident long and straight, crossed by an old, white scar. “What happened here?” she asks, lifting her hand to trace it, leaving visible goosebumps in its wake.

“Sailing accident,” he whispers. “Long time ago.”

There’d been a kid at her summer camp for troubled teens who’d gotten thrown off his boat and hurt like that, once. She remembered so vividly, because she’d been on infirmary duty that day, and all she could think about while wrapping up his arm was how fucking stupid he'd been, how he could have gotten himself really hurt, how badly she’d wanted to kiss him.

She'd moved across the country before she'd gotten the chance, though, and no one else had ever made her feel like that since. Until now. “Got any other ink to show me?”

But instead of answering, he leans down, and he kisses her.

She’s been kissed before. She’s never had sex, but she’s done some kissing in her life. It’s usually pretty awkward, in her experience, too much of one thing and never enough of another.

Nope, not Paris. Of course, he’s also a phenomenal kisser. Why she expected anything else, she’s not sure.

His hands come up to circle her neck again, his thumbs running against her cheekbones. He kisses her, pouring passion and intent into her, his mouth soft and sweet against hers. And then he slips her some tongue, and it’s a whole different ballgame.

“Take off your shirt,” she whispers into his mouth.

He does, effortlessly, without detaching himself from her. It’s a smooth, easy motion, and she is delighted to discover that he is as firm as she suspected he was, the muscles jumping under her touch.

Almost without her realizing it, he backs her up towards the bed, her knees hitting the edge of the mattress. He lays her out against the sheets, his bare chest hot against hers. “Before we go any further,” he says, and she can feel the vibrations of his voice all throughout her body, “tell me—have you ever made yourself come?”

She flushes at his words, the dirty talk which should sound stupid but instead comes out all sultry and sexy. “Yes,” she says, breath hitching as he nips at her neck. “Yes, I have.”

“Good.” He smiles into the skin of her collarbone, traveling down, and down, and down. “I want you to show me how.”

“Isn’t that,” she pants, “your job?”

“Hmm, you’re right.” He pushes her thighs apart with his shoulders, bright eyes staring up at her as he licks his lips. “Let me get to work, then.”

Breathing heavily, she curls her fingers into the ten thousand count sheets, eyes fixed on the ceiling pattern. She can’t look at the dark head between her legs, can only breathe in through her nose as he kisses up the skin of her thigh, higher and higher and higher until…

Jesus fucking lord almighty.

***

“I found the perfect guy for you.”

“Piper, come on.” Theses brunch dates of theirs were starting to get a little repetitive. “I let you set me up with a professional, but I draw the line at a blind date.”

“Have I steered you wrong yet, your highness?” Piper asks, knowing grin firmly on her face.

Annabeth blushes. So what if that night with Paris was the most incredible experience she’d ever had? Doesn’t mean she’s ready for a full-on relationship, yet. “No,” she says, rubbing her temples.

“Great!” Then she does something that Annabeth doesn’t expect—she starts packing up. “So he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, so bright it borders on painful, her nose scrunching up. “I invited him to brunch. But he’s really, really nice, I promise.”

“Does he know about—”

“No, he doesn’t, but if you wanted to spill, he’s a fantastic secret keeper.”

“How do you even know—”

Piper glances over Annabeth’s shoulder, eyes lighting up, waving a hand. “Friend of a friend of Jason, he’s a grad student at Cambridge, he’s doing his dissertation on naval history, so you know the king will love him.”

“Piper!” Annabeth half-calls, half-hisses at her friend as she stands up “Piper, you can’t just—”

“Hey,” says a voice behind her. A very familiar voice. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was joining us.” She turns around. Slowly. “Nice to meet you, I’m… Percy…” he trails off, sea green eyes widening behind a pair of thick, black glasses, beneath dark, curly hair. On his arm, a black trident stood out against his skin, straight and proud.

“Percy, meet Annabeth,” Piper says. “Annabeth, meet Percy. Okay, have fun you two!”

And she waltzes out of there, completely unaware of the absolute shitstorm she left in her wake.

[vidkid20ssimblrlair]

Episode 31: No More Playing Nice

"On the second floor? Lin, are you sure you're not seeing things?"

"No, Vince. I'm not."

"Aaron could have slipped you something in your drink to help you sleep. You could be hallucinating."

"No, I saw something. No. Someone. I saw someone. He was at my window. He...he looked like a skeleton. A skeleton with bright red eyes."

"Now I know you've lost your marbles."

"I'm serious!"

I looked out the window and saw what I expected. A whole bunch of nothing under a pitch-black sky. I rolled my eyes and stared back at Audrey. She was helping Tao up off the floor. The door had knocked him on his ass pretty good.

I scoffed. "So Tao, what the hell did you call yourself doing? Snooping?"

"Um...I was..um," he stuttered. He looked over at Audrey all bug-eyed and blushed. "I was just wondering what you were doing? Sis said you were..."

"I said nothing. He was being a perv hoping to hear you bump uglies!" she huffed. "Now nevermind that. I saw something. I'm sure of it now."

"Well, I'll go outside and take a look. Anything, to get away from here."

Audrey raised her hand. "I'll go with you. Not because of anything weird or anything. I'll...I'll just go."

I shook my head in disgust and hurried out of the room. She practically ran into me as she raced out herself. She followed me down the stairs and into the kitchen where Gemma remained hostage. The pale redhead was tied up, but humming happily. I glanced over at Wade who was on guard. I studied his face for a clue as to why, but he frowned and shrugged.

"Why you so goddamnit happy?" I growled staring down at her.

"Huh?"

"Why you humming that tune?"

She giggled. "Aren't you the one they call 'Vince'?

"Yeah. What of it?"

"Oh, nothing."

"So why you so damn happy?"

"I'm just excited about something," she whispered. A grin then spread across her face. "You're going be in for quite a surprise."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

She then immediately went back to humming. Her head swaying side to side slowly. I looked back at Audrey who was standing behind me looking just as confused. She shook her head and made the sign for crazy. She was definitely right about that, but what she said didn't sit right with me. Surprise? What kind of surprise? Not a good surprise I bet. Shit.

I thought about getting an explanation out of her, but Madison peeked her head in. She looked like she had climbed out of bed. She ditched her leather jacket and jeans for a bathrobe. Her neat short hair all over her head. She seemed to notice our stares and became subconscious. She combed her hair back with her fingers and fussed with her robe. She then gave up and frowned leaning on the door frame. "I thought I heard a gunshot. Everybody alright?"

"A gunshot?" Audrey gasped.

"Yeah. I was coming out of the bathroom and heard a gunshot. I thought I was hearing things at first, but I decided I should check on everyone. Sound like it came from right out back."

As she said this, the front door burst open. Madison jumped and stood aside as Nathan and Aaron appeared. Aaron seemed fine, but Nathan looked worse for wear. His hair loose and messy. His clothes dirty. His face bruised on the side.

"What the hell happened to you?" Madison asked taking the words out of my mouth. "What happened to your face? Are you ok?"

"Oh, I'm just fine," he said sarcastically. "I just got my gun kicked out of my hands and the side of my face kicked like a football by a masked skeleton guy, but I'm great!"

"What?!"

"Wait! Did you say a masked skeleton guy?" I asked astounded.

"Yeah. He had a creepy skeleton mask with red eyes. He was creeping around here and I went after him."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?!" Madison fumed. "You could have been killed! Aaron could have been killed!"

"It was one guy. I thought I could handle it. I did technically."

"Actually, you got knocked flat on your back," Aaron said clearing his throat. "Then you laid there for a few minutes moaning in pain. I'm still quite worried you may have a concussion, Parker. The bruising you're exhibiting and-"

"Aaron."

"Yes, I know. Shut my trap."

Wade chuckled. "So you got beat up? I wished I had seen that."

"I wished I had seen that," Nathan repeated bitterly mocking him. He rolled his eyes. "It's too bad he didn't run into your fat ass."

"Guys! This is serious! What if it was more?" Madison said looking panicked. "Someone should go check. I'll go get dressed."

"Nah. I'll go look," I said holding up my hand. "By the time you finish dressing, they'll be long gone. Someone should also go check on Lin. She did say she saw some skeleton looking guy at her window. I thought she was nuts but I guess not. Still strange how he got up there."

"He used the bus. He did some type of parkour shit and jump down from there. Heard Lin scream now that I think of it. I feel like shit for not believing her. Dammit," he groaned.

"Nope. That's on me. Lin said something strange earlier about someone looking into her window the other night. She asked me to move the bus and I brushed it off," Wade said sadly. "I'll take a look and move the bus. You stay here with Gemma."

"And I'll check on Lin," Audrey offered. "Tell her she's not crazy at least."

He pushed past me and headed for the front door. He stopped and called for Omar who sprung up from the couch in the living room. He pulled out a handgun and followed Wade out the door. Audrey, on the other hand, headed upstairs. I looked back at Gemma who seemed to be looking forward as if clueless to what was happening. I was pretty sure she was listening.

"The skeleton dude. Did he say anything?" I asked Nathan as he pushed past me and sat down at the kitchen table. Aaron followed.

He held his face in his hands as Aaron rubbed his back. He looked up at me and answered. "No. He didn't say anything. Not a word."

"Oh. Well, I'm pretty sure I saw someone like that back at the junkyard. Him, a pig mask guy, and some cat or fox mask chick."

"Well, maybe we should ask Gemma about it," he frowned as he rubbed the side of his face. He got up and stood in front of Gemma. "Got anything to say?"

She smirked. "No. I do hope you catch whoever you're talking about. He seemed to got the best of you there."

"You're real funny. Got the best of me huh?"

"Yeah. He gave you a good beating there. That bruise is a nasty one."

"You know I've never hit a woman before, but right now I'm tempted."

"Nathan!" Madison groaned. "Don't sink to her level."

"Why not? We're not going to get anything out of her if we don't do something."

"Like what?"

"Like this." He smirked and grabbed a kitchen knife. He then placed the blade at her neck. "Now tell me who was your skeleton friend, Gemma?"

"I don't know who you're talking about, but killing me certainly isn't going get you the answer."

"Who said I'm going kill you?" he said. He brought the knife up to her cheek and made a slight cut. He then put the tip of it onto her shoulder. "Who was the skeleton mask guy in the garden?"

"I don't know. It sounds so scary."

"Stop the whole act. It's annoying now."

"I'm not acting- Ahhhh!"

He dug the blade into her shoulder and she screamed. He stopped and she began sobbing. Me, Madison, and Aaron stood back watching. Our faces a mixture of disturbed and unease.

He held the knife up to her face and asked again. "Who was that and why was he here?"

"I told you..."

"Stop lying!"

"I don't know..."

He plunged the tip of the knife back into her shoulder and she screamed. He then pulled it away.

"Ok. Looking like you may need some more stitches."

"Fuck off!"

"Who are you? Why are you here? And who was the man?"

"I'm not telling you anything! Mr. Jones!!!"

He grabbed her face and placed the knife tip close to her right eye. "Tell me or you're going be missing an eye in a few seconds."

"His name is Bones. It's Bones."

"Why was he here?"

"F..f..for me!"

"Why?!

"Help me! Someone help me! Mr. Jones! Jones!"

"Mr. Jones isn’t going to help you. No one is going to help you. Now fess up!"

"Nothing to report except those bastards slashed the tires," Wade bellowed entering the front door. He looked into the kitchen and gasped. "Jesus, Nathan! What are you doing?!"

"Doing what should have been done in the first place!"

"But if Luther sees you...er I mean finds out- "

"What Luther doesn't know, won't hurt him. It's time we stop playing nice. We tried and it didn't work!"

"But..."

We heard footsteps on the stairs. Maybe Tao? Or Audrey? Or maybe worse, DJ or Luther? Shit! I stepped in front of Gemma and Nathan. Wade grabbed the knife from him and headed for the sink. Nathan put his hand over her mouth. We all froze as DJ face appeared in the doorway. His eyes widen and he came closer.

"Me and gramps thought we heard screaming. "Is everything alright?"

"DJ, we...." Nathan started, but he gasped and screamed out in pain. He snatched his hand away. Apparently, Gemma had bit into it. He glared at her. "You little..."

"DJ, they tried to kill me! They've been cutting on me. Hurting me. I told them I don't know what they're talking about," she cried being able to speak now. "Tell them to leave me alone. Please!"

We all began to speak at the same time. Spitting out excuses and tonight’s events as Gemma whimpered about her mistreatment. Finally, DJ had enough and waved his hand and roared, "Quiet. All of you!"

The room grew quiet and he sighed. "A guy with a skeleton mask was here?"

"Yes!" Nathan spluttered. "I fought with...well he got the better of me, but..."

"Lin saw him," I added. "At her window!"

"Gemma said his name is Bones!"

"Okay! I got it, guys!" DJ mumbled. He pushed me and Nathan out the way. He looked down at Gemma. He saw the blood on her shoulder. Tears streaming down her bloody cheek. I thought we were screwed, but he seemed unmoved. He bent down to meet her eye level looking stern. "Gemma, did you say the skeleton mask guy’s name was Bones?"

"I...I made it up. I had to. He threatened to gorge my eye out."

"Do you know him?"

"No! I told-"

"But you knew his codename?"

"Huh?"

"I heard one of them call him, Bones. As he was taking our stuff. As I fear for my life and begged for mercy. Interesting you would choose that name."

"I swear it was just a coincidence! I...I swear!"

"Coincidence or not, he was here for a reason. The reason being you."

"Wait. No! DJ!"

He looked back at us. "Gramps can't see, but he can hear real well. I suggest you hang it up for tonight and keep her quiet. I'll calm Gramps and tell him everything's fine -"

"But DJ please! Save me! They're going kill me!"

He scowled. "I don't care how you do it, but shut her up!"

"My pleasure," Madison smiled. She pulled up her sleeve and balled up her fist. Then she took a swing and hit Gemma square in the face. Her cries silenced and her head slumped over.

Nathan gasped. "Jesus, Madison! Really?"

"What? You said no more playing nice," she smirked. "Besides, I've been dying to do that."

Previous Episode -Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (tw:suicide & tw:gore)

I did it! This took me forever and now I have a cold, so I’m just going to fall out over in a corner somewhere. lol Now for the shit to really hit the fan because Gemma is right. They will be a surprise. 

[kohanayaki]

Jaime Lannister x Reader .:Fighting Chance:. Part 1

With his right hand gone, Jaime doesn't believe there's any way for him to regain his skill with the sword; his position in the Kingsguard is as good as finished. Luckily, Tyrion thinks he knows just the person to whip him back into shape- you.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3 

You sighed softly as you swirled your second glass of wine around in your goblet, glancing around at the company you'd found yourself in. Today was but one of the many parties the royal family had planned in the weeks leading up to King Joffrey's wedding to Lady Margaery. 

At the moment you were sitting at one of the lavishly decorated tables with a group of soldiers. You were much too sober by your standards but having a fun enough time. You idly sipped at your wine and threw the occasional word in the conversation, but events like this were dull to you. Everyone around you seemed to put on such a heavy act it made you sick. You were hoping someone would come along that didn't feel so. . . hollow.

As you felt the space shift beside you, you turned to see an older man approach and sit in the empty chair next to yours- very loud and very drunk.

“Now what's a pretty little thing like you doing with a group of mutts?” he slurred, shooting you a shit-eating grin. 

Your eyes narrowed as the man slung an arm over your shoulders, his alcohol ridden breath fanning over your face and making you cringe.

“Hands off,” you said, your eyes narrowing.

The man only laughed and slid his hand down to your thigh.

“Well aren't you a feisty one? I wonder if you're the same way in the sack. Maybe I should fuck you over this table and find out-”

“Maybe you should move your fingers before you lose them,” you said, your tone deathly calm. Your words made the man recoil in shock which quickly turned into offense. 

“I beg your pardon? I am a knight of the Kingsguard,” he said incredulously. 

You forced your grimace into a sickeningly sweet smile as you turned to face him.

“Well then, with all due respect, Ser, kindly fuck off,” you said as you took another sip of your wine. 

The soldiers around you chuckled in amusement at your crass language. 

“You're going to let this little cunt push you around like that?” one of them goaded.

You didn't even take the time to acknowledge his comment but shot him a nasty glare as you cut away at the venison on your plate. 

“No. Looks like the bitch needs to be put in her place,” the man scowled, reaching for you.

His hand didn't get much farther than the edge of his plate before you grabbed it and twisted hard, pressing the blade of your dinner knife against the flesh of his wrist. 

Several of the soldiers stood immediately and drew their swords.

“Now now, what's going on here?”

You exhaled sharply through your nose as you reluctantly released your grip on the man, turning to face the unmistakable source of the voice: Joffrey Baratheon.

“A simple spat, Your Grace,” you said, putting on a smile, “Think nothing of it.”

“This crazy bitch tried to kill me!” the drunk man exclaimed.

“Well he did grab me,” you retaliated, unable to hold your tongue, “And threatened me with disgusting perverse acts. In response, I suggested he move his hand-”

“And nearly slit my wrist while doing so,” the man glared as he finished. 

“Completely warranted if you ask me,” you said under your breath.

You heard a faint chuckle from the high table and shifted your gaze to the man behind the King. He wore the golden armor and cloak of the Kingsguard, his hair matching the hue of the metal. He was handsome, that was for certain, but he seemed. . . maybe tired wasn't the right word, but maybe it was. The man looked exhausted. The hollows of his cheeks seemed sunken into the chiseled features of his face, a sort of emptiness in his dark green eyes. And yet there he was, in his golden garb before the royal family, his facade just a little less prominent than everyone else's. Something told you there was more to him. 

Meanwhile, the King looked between you and the drunk man with a sadistic glint in his eyes which settled on your form.

“Well then, it appears we have to resolve this issue somehow,” he said, “I thought this party was getting a bit dull, and I was right.”

The smile on his face was enough to send chills up your spine. It was cold and didn't quite reach his eyes, full of malicious intent. 

“You claim she attacked you and yet she claims you tried to defile her,” he said, pointing to the man and then you respectively.

The smirk on Joffrey's face turned into something wicked as he spoke his next words:

“A duel should put this to rest, should it not?”

An excited murmur spread through the crowd, the prospect of barbaric entertainment drawing their attention. Of course the King had no real intentions of settling this dispute. In truth, most women in Westeros were forced to endure far worse than you just had without anyone saying a word. The only reason he intervened at all was for his own sick pleasure.

“Will you choose a champion, Ser?” Joffrey asked the man beside you.

“I have no need” he said smugly, “I can fight my own battles, I'm not a woman.”

Hearty laughs and leers were heard in the crowd as he said that, unsheathing his sword and brandishing it drunkenly. 

“Let's have at it!” he shouted to the sky. 

Joffrey's smirk only widened as he turned to you.

“And you,” he said, clearly pleased with himself, “Since you are so bold and brave to speak out against this man, why don't you fight as your own champion?”

Laughter erupted throughout the crowd of men around you at the King's joke and your gaze darkened.

“Very well.”

The hall seemed to go silent at your words but you trudged onwards.

“I will fight for myself,” you stated confidently. 

Where there had been excitement before, there was now an air of nervousness. The man behind the King stared at you intently in something akin to disbelief but not without intrigue.

“Is she serious? She's just a woman,” you heard someone whisper.

“It was a joke, lass,” one of the soldiers called to you, “No need to get your pretty little dress dirty.”

“Don't be stupid, girl!” another shouted, “You'll get yourself killed!”

You saw the golden-haired man put a hand on the King's shoulder, a stern, warning look on his face.

“Your Grace-”

“Silence!” Joffrey seethed, slapping his hand away and successfully killing the chatter in the room, “If the girl wants her fight so badly, then so be it.” That twisted smile reappeared on his face as he acknowledged you directly, “Although I assume she'll need to arm herself first.”

A few obligated chuckles followed his statement which you quickly silenced.

“That won't be necessary, Your Grace,” you said.

You wordlessly knelt down to reach under the table where you were sitting before, gasps audible as you produced your sword in its scabbard. The head of a serpent was molded onto its hit, the intricate carvings in the thin, silver blade catching the light as you unsheathed it. 

“Valyrian steel?” you heard someone say in disbelief.

“Impossible,” Joffrey muttered, “There's only a handful of them left in Westeros.”

“Well I'm not from around here,” you said, downing the rest of your wine in one gulp and taking a step forward. The crowd parted like the red sea as you stepped into the hall's center.

The man only chuckled, twirling his blade in his hand. 

“You must have a death wish, girlie.” 

“What is your name?” you asked, feeling the familiar weight and balance of your sword in your hand. 

“Grag Brask,” he grinned cockily, “Remember it well, woman.”

“Well then, Ser Grag,” you stepped forward, a dangerous smile playing on your lips, “Are you going to stand around all day or are we going to fight?”

Joffrey seemed to recover from his initial shock, composing himself and raising his hand in the air. 

“Let the duel commence!”

Before the King had even finished his sentence Grag charged at you with a great yell, swinging his sword in a wide and predictable arc. He was a fair bit larger than you, but you knew you had the upper hand when it came to agility. You ducked under his blade with ease, promptly kicking him between his shoulder blades. He grunted in pain as he stumbled forward, one hand darting to the ground to keep himself steady as his own weight worked against him.

You wasted no time with an attack of your own, moving to strike him in the side. He narrowly blocked your attack and grunted as he felt himself be thrown even more off his center of balance. You swiftly went in for another blow, this time coming from above. Grag parried before your blade could come down on top of his head and pushed you away, putting some distance between you two.

You silently relished in his shocked and agitated expression as you twirled your sword around your wrist, looking around at the audience you'd accumulated. If it's a show they wanted, then you'd happily provide. 

Grag let out a growl, sounding much more irritated than his last, as he charged you again. You held your ground until he was less than a meter away before swiftly stepping to the side. However he surprised you by grabbing hold of your sword hand, twisting it in an attempt to disarm you. You delivered a harsh kick to his armored torso but his grip refused to loosen. 

You let out a sharp exhale as you tossed your sword from your right hand to your left, striking him in the side of his armor. Grag's eyes widened in surprise, attempting to block your swing. However he was unused to dueling anyone with a blade in their left hand and found the angle he had to reach awkward. A sharp clang! rang out in the great hall as you delivered another crippling blow to his torso, every strike sending him further and further back. 

Grag made one last feeble attempt at an offensive maneuver, aiming straight for your head. You parried the attack with your left hand easily, your body moving on its own muscle memory. You twisted your blade around his until the momentum pried it from his grasp, his sword skidding across the polished marble floor. 

He didn't have any time to react before you swept his feet from under him. He crumpled into a heap on the floor as you kicked him in the side so he was on his back. You placed your right foot on his windpipe, the point of your blade against his cheek.

“Yield,” you said.

“This isn't over,” he coughed out. 

Your eyes narrowed as you increased the pressure on his neck. He gargled pathetically as you did.

“Oh, I think it is,” you said, “I don't draw blood if it isn't needed, and it seems I didn't have to at all to beat you.” 

Your smirk widened as you leaned in closer to his face.

“Tell me, Ser Grag, have you ever been beaten by an opponent in a dress and corset?” you asked devilishly. 

Joffrey's expression was furious, clearly disappointed that you weren't in pieces on the floor. You shot an innocent smile his way. 

“Won't you call this off, Your Grace?” you asked sweetly, “This has certainly been entertaining but I'd hate to spoil a party with a death, no matter how tempting it may be.”

Joffrey looked like he was going to burst in anger at any moment, but Grag spoke before he could.

“I. . . I yield,” he said bitterly.

He gasped for air as your foot left his throat.

“Lords and ladies, the victor. . .” Joffrey glanced over to you with clear disdain as he trailed off, waiting for you.

“(Y/n), Your Grace,” you said with a smile.

The audience, once out of shock, erupted in applause. Most of them had never seen a woman fight in their lives, and taking down one of the head knights of the Kingsguard was no easy task.

Jaime watched you from the corner of the room as you curtsied playfully, sheathing your blade and brushing imaginary dirt from your dress. You fascinated him already. Your fighting style was unlike anything he'd seen in Westeros. You struck to disarm, not to kill, though there was no doubt in his mind you were capable of the latter. On top of that, you were proficient wielding a blade with your left hand. . .

He found himself glancing over at you again as you gave your gratitude to those who congratulated you. You weren't the traditional Westerosi lady, that was for sure- your words were crass, your temper hot, and yet your features were soft. Your (e/c) eyes seemed to light up as a little girl stared up at you in awe, jumping up and down as she praised your skills. Wisps of (h/c) hair had come undone from your braid in the fight and you gracefully tucked them behind your ear as you scooped up the child in your arms to ask her name.

“She could be useful,” a voice suddenly jolted Jaime from his thoughts as he looked to the side and then down at his brother. 

“When did you get here?” Jaime sighed, “And what do you mean 'useful'?”

“You saw her fight, she's no ordinary lady,” Tyrion said, “And I know you noticed her skill with her left hand. Given your current circumstances, she's an ideal teacher.”

“I don't need a teacher,” Jaime scoffed, “It's not as if my knowledge of the sword was cut off along with my hand.”

“No, but you certainly ought to learn how to connect that head of yours with your hand, because as we stand you can barely write your own name,” Tyrion countered. 

Jaime grumbled to himself, out of witty remarks in that regard.

And that's how he somehow found himself, the very next week, on a wide plateau above the water, waiting for you to arrive.

Tyrion hadn't exactly given him a choice once he confirmed these sessions with you, and the small bit of anxiety creeping up in his chest surprised him. He looked down at his left hand, clenching and unclenching it into a fist. Would he really be able to fight again? What if he completely made a fool of himself in front of you? He'd never even talked to you, your first impression was going to be him barely able to wield a blade.

He exhaled sharply as he took another deep breath in. What if there really was no helping him? He felt his gut twist, feeling conflicted. He felt like the most useless creature in Westeros at the moment, and yet the lingering trace of pride in him didn't want to reach out to anyone for help. He didn't want to be seen as useless as he felt- as everyone else said he was now. 

His head turned towards the docks as he heard footsteps approaching to see you and Tyrion. Instead of the embroidered dress he had seen you in at the party, you wore a simple pair of slacks and a flowy white shirt which you had tied at the waist. Your hair twisted around your head like a crown, the rest braided loosely to the side. Your sword rested against your hip in all its glory, and a burlap bag was slung over your shoulder.

You smiled at Jaime as you came to a stop in front of him and he felt his breath hitch in the back of his throat. Hell if you weren't beautiful. . .

None of this went unnoticed by Tyrion who looked between you two, making a point of clearing his throat before speaking up.

“Jaime, this is Lady (Y/n). Lady (Y/n), this is my brother, Jaime. Hopefully he can learn a thing or two from you.”

Jaime scowled inwardly, turning away slightly from you two.

“You flatter me, My Lord,” you chuckled, “I'm sure I'll have some things to learn from him as well.”

Tyrion nodded to you before turning on his heels and beginning to walk away. 

“Have fun,” he called over his shoulder, “And do try not to kill him, most of our family would like him back alive.” 

You grinned at his remark and turned your attention to Jaime. You had seen him a bit during your duel at the party, but you took a moment to study him more closely. His eyes appeared a brighter green in the afternoon sun, and you could see the faintest splatter of freckles across his tanned skin.

“Something you find interesting?” he asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“You're different than I expected,” you replied simply. 

“How so?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“I expected you to be. . . I don't know, taller? More handsome?” you said playfully.

“With two hands?” he chuckled, taking a light jab at himself. 

“Well, truth be told, I didn't know who you were when I saw you at the party,” you admitted, a bit embarrassed, “I only found out when Tyrion approached me afterwards.”

That surprised Jaime for two reasons. One, he hadn't even known that you noticed him at the party, and two, you truly didn't seem to know or care who he was.

“Like I said, I'm not from around here,” you said, going off his expression. 

“And where would that be?” Jaime questioned. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Your smirk widened as you stood in front of him.

“Oh, I would,” he grinned up at you, “Among other things, if you're up to sharing.”

Damn that smile. 

You forced yourself to hold your ground as you spoke.

“How about a deal? Each time you land a hit on me I'll tell you something about myself,” you grinned back. 

“You seem pretty confident that I won't be able to hit you,” Jaime said, feigning offense. 

“On the contrary,” you said, sliding your bag off your shoulder and dumping its contents onto the cobblestone. Two training swords tumbled out making Jaime look up at you.

“You're joking, right?” he scoffed, actually taking offense this time, “I haven't used a training weapon since I was nine.”

“Tell me something, Jaime Lannister,” you began, picking up one of the dulled blades, “Have you even attempted to hold a sword since you lost that hand?” 

That shut him up fairly quickly. 

“No,” he said quietly, begrudgingly picking up the weapon. 

“Let's take it slow,” you said, sensing his unease, “Although, I won't be going easy on you.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Jaime replied, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. Simply holding the weight of the sword upright in his left hand put strain on his wrist he hadn't felt since he was a child. It felt heavier than a sword ever had in his right, the center of its balance precariously placed.

“Defend yourself,” you instructed him, lunging at him with surprising speed. 

Jaime's eyes widened as he stumbled to block your attack, biting his lip as his wrist bent at an awkward angle to do so. You wasted no time going in for another offensive maneuver, sliding your foot in front of you and turning to strike him in his blind spot. Jaime grunted as the practice sword made contact with his ribcage and he fought to ignore the painful sensation. 

When he managed to turn to face you, you had already ducked under his arm, swiftly bringing the hilt of your sword between his shoulder blades and making him fall forward. Even as he knelt at the floor you didn't relent, and a sharp clang of metal rang through the air as he brought up his sword horizontally to block your downward attack. You really weren't kidding about going easy on him.

You backed away, letting him come to his feet but not waiting a moment more than that. You circled him like a predatory animal, observing his stance and body language. When his grip on his sword loosened slightly so he could adjust it, you sprang forward and delivered another harsh blow to his side. Jaime grit his teeth and whirled around, striking at you straight on. You avoided the attack with a simple tilt of your head, seamlessly shifting your weight to deliver a roundhouse to his gut.

Jaime reeled back as the air was knocked out of his lungs and he staggered back on the impact.

“I thought I told you to defend first,” you said, “How are you going to get the opportunity to attack if you can't avoid your opponent's?”

“I know that,” Jaime huffed, irritated, “I'm not a child, I'm the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I know the basics of swordplay you so desperately want to reteach me.”

You lowered your sword and studied him curiously, an unreadable expression on your face.

“So that's what it is,” you sighed, “I know what you're thinking, 'How can this girl possibly be qualified to teach me? I have years of experience on her and I've managed just fine on my own until now. I've never needed any help. I'm a prodigy. If I had my right hand right now I'd be able to beat her with my eyes closed.' Well let me tell you something, Lannister, you don't have your right hand anymore, and it isn't growing back any time soon.”

You charged him again and he struggled to block you once more.

“You know you need help but you're too proud to ask for it,” you stated confidently, “And more than that, you're giving up.”

“I'm not,” he countered breathlessly. He made a half-arsed attempt to take a swing at you which you easily countered.

“It seems you already have,” you said, your eyes narrowing. 

“Why are you even here?” he snapped, “If my brother offered you gold to work with a lost cause then I'll pay you triple and you can just leave already.”

That set you off.

In one swift movement you swiped his feet out from under him, grabbing his sword out of his hand as he tumbled backwards. He cursed under his breath and was about to counter with another evasive, witty retort when he froze as you drew your real sword, pressing the blade to his chest. 

“Your brother did offer me gold,” you said, “and I told him I had no need for it. So listen up-From what I've heard, your skill with the sword was unmatched. If you want to get back to that point it's not going to be easy, and it's not going to be fun either. But if you're going to give up before you've even started, then just walk away. Don't waste your time, and don't waste mine either.”

Jaime was both taken aback and slightly turned on by your demanding tone as you stood over him. He could tell you meant every word you said, and something told him that he could trust you. 

Your expression softened slightly as you sighed and sheathed your blade, staring at the uncertain man in front of you.

“You aren't a lost cause,” you said.

His heart pounded in his ears as he stared up at you, and that's when he realized: You weren't here to laugh at him like so many others had. You weren't here for gold or a shallow round in his bed. You were here to help him become the greatest fighter in Westeros once again. He knew what you said was true, this wasn't going to be easy or fun, but he was willing to work for it. You had lit a fire under his ass. 

He wordlessly reached down for the practice sword and took up a fighting stance, and you knew something had changed in him. 

“Alright then,” you grinned widely, readying your own weapon,

“Let's do this, Jaime Lannister.

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Eleven - Star-Crossed Lovers

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: Just when Aria feels lost and helpless, JJ and the pogues come up with an adventurous rescue plan. 

Warnings: Smut, fighting, cursing, chaos, the pogues being batshit crazy, tennis balls and TAMMY!

A/N: Not much guys. Just hope ya’ll enjoy. I’m looking forward to posting part twelve, so just want to give you guys a heads up, I don’t know how long it will take me to post it, but I’ll make sure to write and post it as fast as I can! Sorry for any typos lol. (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show, characters or song in this fic.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

Romeo and Juliet were star-crossed lovers, whose story ended in tragedy. The two were born to hate each other, but instead they fell in love together. Complete opposites. No one would approve of their relationship. I feel like Romeo and Juliet’s love story is a parallel universe to JJ and I’s love story.

Every day that passed by of me not seeing JJ made my heart ache violently. It made me feel sick to my stomach. I felt guilty for not being able to call or text him, explaining why I haven’t talked to him in almost two weeks. I can’t even imagine what he must be thinking. His worst fear is me leaving him, and I can only hope that’s not what’s going through his head right now.

My father has gone officially crazy. He has taken away all of my electronics, won’t allow my friends to come over, and worst of all, he’s having Rafe escort me to school and back home. He makes sure I have no way of talking to my friends at school. I just want to scream to the top of my lungs every time I have to sit in the same car as him. I’m not even allowed to call my mom and tell her about this ridiculousness. She had to go on this retreat to Africa, to help doctors treat patients. She gets back tonight. I could really use one of comforting hugs and support on my love life.

I wake up like every other morning, with the same routine. Wake up, cry, shower, cry, get dressed, cry, eat breakfast, and oh yeah, cry some more. I stare daggers into my father’s back as he speaks with Rafe. Now, they’re best friends to the end, partners in crime. Mission? Ruin my fucking love life. Rafe approaches me with a bowl of cereal in his hands and a smug smile that’s been plastered on his face for these two weeks.

“You should eat something darling. You look a little pale.” He holds the spoon out in front of me. I scowl at him before knocking the bowl out of his hands, spilling the cereal and breaking the glass in the process. “Get fucked.” I spit. “Now Aria, that’s not very polite of you.” My father scolds me. “Neither are you two getting involved in my love life. Seriously, don’t you guys have anything else better to do?” They didn’t even bother to answer.

“Fucking jerk offs.” I mutter before walking out to the car. I don’t even bother to sit in the front seat. I’d rather jump out of the moving car than sit next to Rafe. “You can’t hate me forever you know?” He looks at me threw the review mirror. “I can and I intend to.” I avoid his gaze. “I only did this for your own good. JJ has nothing to give you. He could never provide for you.” The mention of his name made my eyes sadden. “He has already given me everything I have ever wanted.” “Oh yeah? Like what?” “Love, passion, admiration, respect, loyalty, happiness and confidence.” Rafe just scoffs at this. “Yeah, well tell me when any of that cane buy you anything.” It was my turn to scoff. “He could have nothing but the shirt off his back and I would still love him.”

“I could give you so much more Aria.” I burst out laughing. “You can’t buy my love Rafe. The only thing you can buy, is yourself a penis enlargement and a fucking pair.” I spit. His foot hits the break, launching my body into the seat. “What the fuck!” Before I could even look up at him, he grabs me by the face, squeezing my cheeks. “Listen here you fucking slut. I will not be disrespected by you. You better watch your fucking tone or else I’ll break you down till you’re on the verge of killing yourself.” His voice is laced with sadistic rage. I panic and grab pair of scissors, aiming the tip at his throat. His body tenses.

“If you ever raise a hand to me like that again, I will gauge your fucking eyes with these pair of fucking scissors.” I threatened him, furious by his actions. He reluctantly lets go of my face, and I lay back in my seat. Hostile silence takes over the rest of the way to school. I slammed my door shut, a little too hard, before marching onto campus. I hated how everyone seemed to admire Rafe Cameron, while I despised him with every fiber in my body. Even the teachers have taken a liking to him.

The whole day was a fucking drag, as Rafe eyed me down like a hawk, never giving me the chance to escape. The school day was coming near to an end, which I was excited for. My mom should be home not too long after I get out. The bell finally rings and all the students usher their way out of the classrooms cheering since Spring break has officially started. The halls were chaotic and crowded, resulting in Rafe having a hard time keeping up with me, giving me the perfect chance to run for it. He yells after me as I get lost in the crowd. I scan my surrounding looking for one of my friends whether that would be Kie, Sarah or Charis. I need one of them to tell JJ that I haven’t forgotten about him.

I find myself out front of the school where everyone seems to be socializing. I let out a frustrated sigh as I can’t seem to find any of my friends. Instead I find someone else. For a moment my heart stopped and my breath hitch when I saw a familiar mop of dirty blonde surfer boy hair and ocean blue eyes. There he stood, by the curb with his motorcycle parked. He then catches my eye; the sparks light up in his own and a smile goes across my face.

I don’t hesitate to move my feet, sprinting down the stairs and towards JJ, dropping my backpack along the way. My heart had beaten ten times faster and the butterflies in my stomach had erupted like a volcano. The wind blows through my hair and across my now lit up face. His arms open wide for me, all warm and welcoming, making me squeal. I jump onto him, legs wrapped around his hips and arms around his neck holding him tight and never letting him go. My peers stare at us with shock written all over their judgmental faces. His great big arms latch around me and he buries his face in the crook of my neck. I look up at him to gaze into his eyes for a moment, before our lips crashed together in a passionate, loving and heated kiss. Everyone around us gasps. I missed the feeling of his soft and comforting lips on mine. I missed his tongue caressing mine. I missed his body pressed up against mine. He’s like my own brand of nicotine. I could never get enough of him, always left insatiable, never wanting to stop. We pull away when our lungs are gasping for air.

“I love you.” He declared in front of everyone. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I fucking love you, and I missed you so much.” He rambled on. “I love you too. I’m so sorry JJ. Rafe told my dad about us and everything went to shit from there.” We never let go of each other, too afraid that we’ll lose each other once more. “Aria!” Speak of the devil. We turn to see Rafe marching his way towards us. JJ stands in between as Rafe approaches us.

“Back off pogue. Take your dirty ass bike and get the fuck off our side of the island.” Rafe gets in his face, a crowd of curious on lookers begins to form around us. JJ doesn’t budge, he holds his ground. Rafe grabs a hold my arm painfully. JJ doesn’t react well to this when he shoves him off of me. “I swear to god man, if you ever touch her against her will again, I’ll fucking kill you.” JJ has a hold of Rafe’s collar. “Get the fuck off me! A dirty ass pogue like you doesn’t deserve her. She was perfect till you showed up.” “She was already perfect!” JJ disagreed. “You’re right, I don’t deserve her but god damn it, I love her and I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt her.” I lace my fingers with JJ’s, touched by his declaration. “I’m giving you one last chance to man before I beat the shit out of you.” Rafe threatens, but JJ doesn’t care. “Let’s go babe.” JJ pulls my hand as the two of us are ready to hop on his bike, but I’m stopped when Rafe’s hand yanks my hair causing me to yelp out of pain. I scratch his hand which only seems to piss him off more, when he slapped me across the face, the stinging sensation caused painful tears to burn my eyes. Everyone gasped.

JJ wasted no time to spring into action, punching Rafe right in the face. His nose makes a nasty crunch sound before blood is spilled over his clothes. Before I know it, the two boys are having a full-on brawl and the students are chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!”. Both boys get a few hits in there, that was until JJ is shoved to the ground and Rafe jumps on top of him. I act fast, grabbing my bag before smacking him in the face with it and knocking him over off of JJ, who quickly gets back up. I grab his hand and try to lead him away from the crowd, but we’re stopped by the campus security. The crowd began to disperse as the three of us are restrained.

Rafe had attempted to attack JJ again, but he didn’t get far, due to the security guard grabbing a hold of them again. The three of us are taken into the office, all of us are sitting outside the office as the principal takes our statements along with the police that the school called. The JJ and I sat next to each other, Rafe had to sit somewhere else, while we waited for our parents. That’s when Officer Peterkin walked to the two of us. She looks at JJ. “I called your father. He didn’t pick up son. Is there anyone else we can call?” She asked, her voice gentle and sympathetic, like she knew this was a soft spot for JJ.

“Nah, it’s fine really.” He shrugs. I take his rough bruised hand in mine. Officer Peterkin notices this, and just smiles before saying, “I remember when love made me do crazy things. Got me into all sorts of trouble, but in the end, it was all worth it. Just do yourselves a favor and lay low. Don’t add more fuel to the fire, and I’ll get you two lovebirds out of this.” She says quietly. After Officer Peterkin leaves to speak with Ward Cameron, I see my father bursts through the doors.

“What the hell happened?” My dad questions the principal. “Based on the security footage, Rafe Cameron, yanked Aria by the hair and slapped her across the face. JJ here stepped in and punched Rafe, and that’s when everything went downhill.” Explained the principal. “Is my daughter in trouble?” My father pinches his nose. “No sir, she was the one who was assaulted.” “Then it’s settled. Come on Aria we’re leaving.” My father demands, but I stand my ground. “No, I’m staying here with JJ.” I squeezed his hand tighter. “I don’t have time for your bullshit Aria! Let’s go now!” He yells, gaining everyone’s attention. I sighed and pecked JJ’s lips before my father ripped me out of the chair and office. He opens the cars door, before throwing me into the passenger seat and slamming the door, only inches away from my face.

To say the drive home was awkward is an understatement. The tension ate away at me, as my dad said nothing. He just sat there and fumed, his face was beating red as sweat dripped down his face. We pull into the driveway where I see my mother’s car. Just seeing it made me want to cry. I didn’t hesitate to jump out of the car and run into the house, ignoring my dad’s yelling. I didn’t even reach the stairs when I see my mom pop out of the corner. “Oh my god, honey your face!” She gasped as she examined my cheek. “I swear to god if I ever see Rafe again, I’m going to rip his bloody spine out and shove it up his ass!” My mother’s words surprised me. She is one of the most kind and gentle people I know, so for her to say such graphic things actually scared me. “I’m fine mom really it’s just a slap. When did you get back?” “About five minutes ago. The school left a voicemail.” The front door slams shut, and my father marches towards me. I can tell he’s about to yell, but my mom stops him.

“Don’t even start. She’s already had a rough day.” My mom shuts him up. “I don’t care if she had a rough day! She disobeyed me and saw him!” “See who?” My mom asked confused. She still didn’t know? I thought my father would have already told her by now. “JJ Maybank! She’s been fooling around with him ever since we moved here. I told her she was forbidden to see him, but she clearly doesn’t give two shits about what I have to say.” He glared daggers at me. My mom was just in shock. “JJ Maybank? I remember him. He delivers groceries to us and has mowed our lawn. He’s a good kid what’s the problem?” A part of me wanted to smile at her approval. This did not please my dad however. “I need to shower. Excuse me.” I walk up the stairs, not wanting to be a part of this conversation. My dad tries to follow me, but my mom grabs his arm. “Don’t you even dare. Leave her be Claude. Let’s talk about this in the kitchen.” She drags him off as I slam my bedroom door shut.

I waste no time to jump into my shower to wash away my sweat and gunk. A hug weight has been lifted off of my shoulders to hear my mom defend me. She barely even knows him, yet she is willing to give him a chance. I wrap myself in a towel and pace around my room for a while, having no idea what to do. Do I go downstairs to talk to my parents or do I take the chance run out the door and see JJ? I just sigh out of frustration when my body collapsed on my bed, damp hair wetting my pillow. I missed his touch. I missed the way he wrapped his arms around me today and kissed me so passionately. I had gone weeks without him. I just want him ravish me. Fuck me till sunrise. My fingers mindlessly find the lips of my flower. I began to run my finger up and down the slit. I hear my parents yelling downstairs, so I put on a playlist JJ had made for me a while back, and turn the volume all the way up to drown out the noise. It’s one of his favorite rock & roll songs. He loves to fuck me to this kind of music in the background.

I insert my fingers once the music begins to pick up pace, keeping up with it. As I ram my fingers in and out of me, chasing a high that was impossible to reach, I thought of JJ. All the dirty thoughts of him began to flood my mind. I think about the way his eyes always seem to turn a shade darker. I think about the sound of his moans and groans when I clench around him. I think about how the headboard never fails to hit wall while he fucks me hard into the bed. I think about the way he leaves love bites all over my body. “JJ…” His name slips pass my lips. The mere thought of him was the only thing getting me off right now.

“Aria…” My heart practically stops when I hear my name. I search the room for the owner of the voice. “Over here babygirl.” I whip my head around to see JJ outside my window. My heart skips a beat when I set my eyes on him. I quickly let him in before shutting the window. It just occurred to me that he just caught me masturbating to the thought of him. He probably heard me moaning his name. “Sounds like someone missed me.” His cocky smirk was plastered on his lips. I blush out of embarrassment. “You’re such a creeper.” I didn’t even bother to ask him what he was doing here, I’m just glad he’s here, that’s all that matters. Even if I’m standing in the middle of my room in nothing but a towel. I shouldn’t be embarrassed, after all we’ve done worst.

“Don’t worry babygirl. I thought it was super-hot.” He grabs my waist before pulling me against him, attacking my lips in a heated lustful kiss. His tongue immediately fights for dominance and I gladly submit to him. I was willing to let him do whatever he wanted to me. I threw his hat off, letting his gorgeous hair fall. My towel lets go of my body and pool round my feet, leaving completely exposed in front of him. His hungry predator eyes take in every inch of my body. He groans at the sight of me naked in front of him, while he’s still fully clothed, the bulge in his pants visible. “Looks like you missed me too.” I let my fingers graze his clothed bulge. “What can I say, you gave me one hell of a show. Did you cum?” He asked as my hands trace up his arms. “No.” I whimper, desperate for a release. “Lay on the bed babygirl.” He orders. I don’t hesitate to lay back, legs hanging off the end, as he kneels in front of me, placing my legs over his shoulders. “Daddy’s gonna make it all better. I’ll make you feel so good. I’m gonna make up for all those days you went without my touch.” He kisses my inner thighs.

I let out a quiet whimper when I feel his hot breath fan my aching pussy. My whole body shakes with anticipation. “Please, do something. Make me cum.” I beg. He just smirks, before his lips attach to my flower, making me mewl. His tongue runs up and down my slit, before diving into my hot dripping core, his tongue massaging my insides. My fingers caress his hair, occasionally tugging it. He then uses his fingers to rub figure eights on my sensitive clit. I pull on his hair, making him groan, sending vibrations to my pussy. I bite down on lip, trying to contain my moans. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna,” I don’t get to finish my sentence before the familiar wave of euphoria comes crashing down on me. Tears roll down my cheeks, relieved that I finally reached the impossible high I was looking for.

He throws his clothes across the room, leaving him completely naked in front of me, fully erect. I sit up and reach for his member, but he just grabs my wrist. “Not tonight babygirl. I want to make you feel good. You deserve it babygirl. Just lay down and let me do all the work.” He says before pushing me down on the bed, and widening my legs. He uses his hand to pump himself a few times before lining himself up at my entrance. Sighs of relief leave the both of us when pushes himself inside me bottoming out. His eyes roll to the back his head as lets out a quiet moan. He took a few seconds to let me adjust to him, due to the fact we hadn’t had sex in a couple weeks. “Don’t be gentle.” I whisper.

He doesn’t hesitate to pull out leaving just the tip in, before diving back in with such powerful force. Our quiet moans begin to the fill the room, hoping we wouldn’t be heard with the music playing in the background. He quickly removes my legs from his shoulders to change positions, once he noticed the headboard was starting to hit the wall. This time he pulls me into his lap before thrusting upwards back into me, continuing to fuck me in lotus position. Our bodies are fully pressed up against each other. His pelvis rub against my clit.

His lips attach to my neck, biting down softly as I let my finger nails lightly scratch his back, causing him to groan and curse. “Fuck, you keep doing that, then I ain’t gonna last long.” He said through raspy breaths, a moan bubbling in his throat. “Oh, I know.” I giggle. He just smirks before kissing my lips. “God, I missed this. Your hot wet pussy around my cock. Fuck babygirl, I think I'm in heaven. I’m so close.” His thrusts become more erratic. “That's right baby, cum inside me.” I encourage him as he fills me up with hot steaming cum, my walls clamping down around him. He kisses me to muffle out both our moans, as we both ride out our highs, before collapsing on the bed breathless.

His body goes limp on top of me. “JJ, you're crushing me.” I begin to feel claustrophobic. He quickly pulls out, warm cum gushes out of me, and rolls off me. I snuggle into his warmth, our legs entangle together  as he covers our naked bodies with the blanket. We lay there for a bit in silence, before I giggle. His face is covered with goofy smile as he watches me giggle uncontrollably.

“What the hell is so funny?” He asked puzzled. “No, you’ll laugh at me.” I refuse to answer his question. “I won’t. Just tell me.” He promises. I sigh, looking up at him. “You know those big cannons you find at circuses that shoot confetti?” He just quirks his eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?” “Well, it started to make me think. Penises are a lot like cannons, but instead of shooting confetti, it shoots sperm.” JJ starts balling out laughing, I had to shush him. “You promised not to laugh!” I whisper shouted. “I'm sorry, but that shit is just so weird and funny.” His face turns pink from laughing so hard. “You're such a weirdo. You know that?” He asked. “Yeah, but I’m your weirdo.” He just chuckles. “That you are indeed.” He kisses me so soft and lovingly, pulling me closer to him. We lay there for a little bit, just indulging in each other’s presence, until it was time for him to leave.

I jump out of bed and open my closet, pulling out on of many JJ’s sweatshirts. “You sneaky little shit. I’ve been wondering where all of my clothes went.” He motions to the stash of his clothes in my closest. “But they're so warm and smell like you.” I say innocently as I tie my hair up into a ponytail with his bandana. “You're lucky you're adorable.” He mutters under his breath as he puts his clothes back on. He walks back to the window. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” I mumble softly, hating to see him leave. “I know, we’ll figure out something. You and I will be back together soon. I promise babygirl.” He kisses me passionately as his legs dangle out the window. This all reminded me of the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. He reluctantly pulls away. “I love you Aria.” “I love you too JJ.” I whisper. And like Romeo, he disappeared.

Next Day...

I haven't slept so good since last night. I guess JJ fucking my brains out had refreshened me, which is exactly what I needed. I put on a nice sundress for today’s event, a charity event at the club. My father had insisted that I make a appearance, while my mom argued that it was wrong to parade me around like everything was alright when it indeed wasn’t. To her surprise I said yes. I’m hoping to see Charis, Kiara or Sarah. It’s been a while since I was able to talk to them. 

“You look gorgeous sweetheart.” My mom's voice snaps me out of my daze. “It’s a good color on you.” She referenced to the white sundress. I smile, not at the compliment, but at the memory this gave me. It’s the same dress I wore the night I lost my virginity to JJ. “Thanks mom.” I mumble. She looks at me sad eyes. 

“Do you love him?” My mom asked, looking into my eyes through the mirror. “Yes, I love him so much. Words can't describe how he makes me feel mom.” My voice shakes. “How does he make you feel?” She asked once more. “He makes me feel so special. He always knows how to boost my confidence. He treats me like I’m the only girl in this world. He kisses me with so much love and passion. I never knew I could love someone as much as I love him.” I confess. “Then don’t give him up.” Her words surprise me. “What?” “If you love him that much, and he makes you feel like that everyday, he’s worth it. You should be with someone you love. Trust me, the last thing I want for you is to end up in a loveless marriage.” My stomach fills with guilt. “I’m sorry mom.” My voice is soft. “For what?” She asked confused. “I just can't help but feel like I'm always causing you and dad to fight. Like I'm ripping your marriage apart.” My voice shakes. 

“Hey, look at me.” She takes my face in her hands. “You are not ripping our marriage apart sweetheart. Your dad and I have been unhappy for years. This has nothing to do with you.” She reassured me. “Are you and dad getting a divorce?” I asked timidly. She just sighs. “I’ve been thinking about it. He’s just not the man he used to be. I’ve been wanting to leave him for years, but I was afraid it would hurt you and your siblings.” She’s not able to look me in the eyes. “Mom, you shouldn’t have to put up with him. You deserve someone better. I know it’s messed up to say that about my dad, but you deserve to be happy. Plus, it’s my senior year. I’ll be graduating in a few months, so I won’t even be living with him. If you think splitting up with dad is the best solution, then I won't stop you, and neither will Damian or Jennifer.”  I hold her hands. She just smiles at me. “Thank you sweetheart. I mean it. Now, let’s go. I want to hear more about this JJ fellow.” She wiggles her eyebrows making me laugh. 

The charity event seemed to go smoothly, but I sat there at the table bored out of my mind, as my parents socialized with the Donahues, that was until Charis sat next to me.  I then see Ward and Rose Cameron approach the table. Fuck. 

“Hello Oscar and Ingrid. Mind if we speak with Mr. and Mrs. Prescott?” Ward asked sounding formal. “Of course. I need to attend to some matter anyways. Charis?” Ingrid calls for her, much to her dismay. I tap my leg under the table as the couple sit down. 

“Aria, we wanted to apologize on behalf of our son’s behavior. He had no right to hit you like that, and for that we are sorry.” Ward speaks. I just sit there awkwardly not wanting to say. “Aria, don’t you have something to say?” Claude pressed. I huff. “Thank you for coming here to apologize for your son, but that doesn’t change what he did to me or my sister.”  My father glares at me. “No, it doesn’t, and we have made it very clear to Rafe won’t be held in our household.” Ward agrees. 

“We were hoping that you guys would be dropping the charges against him.” Rose says. This seemed to irk my mom. “That won’t be happening.” She says. “Elaine.” Claude says her name annoyed. “Your son needs to be held accountable for his violent actions against my daughter.” My mom stood her ground. “Perhaps we can work out a little ‘arrangement’.” Ward suggested. “No. I will not tolerate your son. I don’t want him anywhere near my home or Aria. If he ignores my wishes, I will make sure to place a restraining order against him. Do I make myself clear?” Asked Elaine. Ward’s jaw clenches. 

“Crystal.” Him and Rose leave the table. My father glares at mom. “Do you have any idea what you've done?” He asked angrily. “I just defended our daughter, who you clearly don’t care about.” Elaine spat. Claude turns to me. “None of this would've happened if you just stayed away from that dirty lowlife pogue.” “Don’t even start.” Elaine stops him. The Donahues take their seats back at the table. Things seemed to go normal from there, just the same boring talk, until Charis excused herself to the bathroom, and blew me a kiss, confusing me.

“More water for ya’ll?” I look up to see John B in a tight ass waiters outfit, hair in pigtails, with the name tag ‘Tammy’. Fight me. I almost choked on my spit. I then look down at the waiter's trolley to see JJ hiding under the cloth. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. What the hell are they up to? JJ hands me a note, sends me wink and returns to hiding. I look down to read the note.

“Run when hell breaks loose.” What the fuck? ‘Tammy’ strolls away with the cart. I sit there waiting anxiously for the signal. I couldn't help but wonder where the hell Sarah and Charis were. My question was answered when I heard a fork clinking against a glass, by Charis, gaining everyone's attention. 

“I’d like to make a toast!” Oh god. “To all the amazing people here today. This is truly amazing ya’ll. Give yourselves a round of applause!” Everyone smiles and applauds, much to my confusion. All of the sudden, a tennis ball shoots across the room, landing in my dad’s bowl splashing soup everywhere, startling everyone. We didn’t even have the chance to say anything, before we heard little paws run on the tiled floor. Everyone turns to see what was causing the commotion. That’s when we say a full-grown Great Dane, running towards our table. Before we knew it, the handsome Great Dane jumps onto our table for the ball, making a huge mess. 

I don’t think twice before I take off running towards JJ, who’s standing across the room. Everyone's eyes were on me now, as I jump into his arms smiling, ignoring my father’s yells. “Whoo! Let's go babygirl!” Everyone gasped when JJ pecked my lips. JJ then whistles, catching the Great Dane’s attention. “C’mere boy!” The dog runs after us with full speed. My father follows shortly behind us, along with security.

JJ leads us outside to the entrance, where we see two cars parked, the van and  Charis’s car, who opens the door letting the dog hop in. The side door of the van opens next, revealing a smiling Kiara and Sarah in the back, the John B and Pope in the front. “Get in bitches!” Sarah hollers. JJ and I dive into the van. “I owe you one Charis!” JJ yells. “Don’t mention it! Have fun!” She yells back before speeding off. “Hit it!” Sarah yells at John B, who punches the gas, launching us all backwards. 

My father was following very close, trying to keep up with us. “Get the hell out of that fucking van!” He yells to me. “Don’t worry sir! I’ll take great care of her! I promise!” JJ yells before closing the door. We all cheer as we gain distance. “Welcome back to the crew Pogue!” John B yells. “Whoo! Pogue Style babygirl!” JJ yells before pulling me into a kiss, earning groans from the pogues. “Ew! Save it for the room guys!” Pope yells. “Wait, where are we going?” I asked. Everyone just shares a look before Kie speaks, “Well, it’s a good thing we packed your bags, cause we’re going to Miami!” She cheers. “Holy shit! Are you guys serious?!” I asked astonished. “Fuck yeah we are!” JJ shouts. “Miami here we come!” Sarah shouts to the rooftop, as John B turns up the radio.

We sing along to the song ‘Everybody Wants To Rule The World’ by Tear for Fears.  JJ opens up the side door, grabs a hold of the handle and sticks his body out catching the wind, screaming the lyrics. The boys up front roll down their windows. We all let loose and sing the chorus together. “All for freedom and for pleasure! Nothing ever lasts forever! Everybody wants to rule the world!” Our screams can be heard throughout the outer banks. I’m excited to see where this Spring Break leads us. I know it’ll be amazing and unforgettable, because I’m surround by this spectacular family and amazing lover. They’re my greatest adventure.

[peterparkerstarker]

hello it is me and I want to request that part 2, pretty pretty please 😭😍❤️ *peter kneels in front of you and offers his whole body just for this one request* PLEASE I LOVE YOU

First of all you’re adorable and I love you 3000 and holy crap this ask made me smile.

Secondly, I’m apparently a slut for praise cause this was originally gonna be under 500 words in my head, and turned into 2.3k of smutty filth. This one is from Peter’s perspective, and it gets nasty fast, y’all. It continues off right after my Kinktober Day 5: Age Difference (Starker) fic. 

I’m tagging everyone on my Kinktober list, but this one is just a bonus that doesn’t fit into any of my prompt days really.

@readysetstarker @jwolf18791 @warathena418 @pray4meireadstarker @thotticusmaxximus @mvrphyblooms @morgoona-stark @silkystark @untold-royalty @pollyparrot8 @sthefystarkersworld @katzenbaby1 @another-starker-hoe @tony-is-my-daddy @mystarkershame @plsstopgivingpetertrauma @hoeforthegays @lonleystarker @awesomeimportantfan @friendlyneighborhoodlosxr @hpspazz @starker-obsessions @starkershomelife @tightaroundthewebslinger @animefan1998-love @peterpissparker @starkercandy @loki-helmet @petecake @starkercrossedlovers @nerdylocksandthethreebears @thirstyhoe4yoongi @starker-reader @starkerissemiok @petersmoan

————–

Peter was laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling, glow in the dark stars casting an odd light across the room. A couple years ago, he and Ned had spent hours putting them up, trying their best to do an accurate representation of the night sky. 

All it made him think of now was Tony. 

Tony, who had been to space and back. Tony, who was old enough to be his dad. More than 30 years too old for Peter. But it was Tony that his mind wandered to on cold nights like this. Tony who made his heart race when they worked together in the lab. 

He knew it was wrong. Knew he shouldn’t be having this childish crush. Knew Tony didn’t see him as more than a goofy kid. Besides, Tony treated him like the son he’d never had. He’d been so good to Peter.

And in return, all Peter could think about was Tony showing up at his and May’s Queens apartment like he did that very first time. He imagined the older man crawling on top of him in his bed and pounding him into the mattress. 

That filthy smile aimed at him, kissing and sucking and licking up and down his bare chest, making him shiver and cry out. 

Tony holding him down by the wrists. Peter knew he was stronger. He could easily break Tony’s hold. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to be dominated and told what to do and punished for disobeying. He wanted to feel the sharp sting of Tony’s hand on his ass as he took his punishment, all the while rutting against the older man’s leg like a dog in heat.

Peter got himself off every night to the thought of Tony holding him down and fucking him, slapping his face until he cried desperate sobs, holding his hand over Peter’s mouth so he couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t cry out against how mean and teasing and incredible Tony was to him. 

He wanted to come untouched, with only the sensation of Tony’s cock slamming into his needy ass. Wanted to shoot his load all over his stomach and have Tony scoop it up and make Peter lick his fingers clean. Wanted Tony to come in him and play with his ass as it dribbled out of his abused hole, sopping wet and gaping. 

Peter wanted Tony more than he’d ever wanted anything. 

He wanted to feel filthy, fucking the man who was like a father to him, a man more than twice his age and more experienced than he could ever imagine. A man who had seen it all, and still couldn’t resist a piece of virgin ass like Peter. 

He wanted to tease Tony, show up at the lab in short shorts or a crop top, drive him mad with need until Tony shoved him up against the work bench and fucked him senseless. Peter wanted to be made a mindless, fucked out mess on Tony’s aching cock. 

And he’d grasp onto Tony’s hair, streaks of silver making him look distinguished and sexy, and he’d feel absolutely incredible, being the focus of a dirty old man’s desires. 

He stared up at his ceiling, glowing yellow-green in the dark, and came, shoving his pillow into his mouth to dampen his cries, and desperately wished he could have all that and more. 

Silent sobs of want and desire wrenched through him, and he lay there, gasping for air as he came down from it all.

There was noise, something muffled and melodic, but it was there. He groped around on his bed covers, trying to find its’ source and finally gripped onto his phone. It was ringing, the screen blinking to life as he picked it up. 

Tony Stark, it read. 

Peter gulped, still panting from the exertion of his orgasm and trying to find his phone. 

He hit the Accept Call button.

“Hey Mr. Stark. Are you okay? It’s like 3 in the morning,” he asked, hoping he just sounded tired instead of turned on and desperate. 

“Hey kid, you’re up.” Tony sounded surprised. “I need to talk to you about something. Can we meet?”

“S-sure Tony. When?”

“Right now. I’m in the car outside.”

Peter slipped out of bed to peer out his window and saw a sleek gunmetal grey sports car. 

“Get dressed and meet me outside in 5 minutes, Peter. And don’t wake up May. Don’t want her to worry.” There was an edge to Tony’s voice. Something rough and tight and so unlike him. Something dominant and powerful. 

“Sure. I’ll be right down Mr. Sta- I mean Tony. Be right down.”

“Good boy, Peter. See you soon.” The phone call clicked off, and a shiver ran down Peter’s spine. Good boy. He didn’t know what was going on, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

He shuffled quietly into some joggers and a hoodie, slipping on a pair of shoes and padding down the hall, careful not to wake May. The door quietly clicked closed behind him and he made sure to lock it, pocketing his keys. He didn’t know when he’d be back, but something told him it might be a while. 

His hands shook as he made his way down to the street level. What if Tony knew? What if he could smell the come on his sweaty stomach?

Shit. He’d been in such a rush he hadn’t bothered to clean himself up. He was sticky and damp with his cooling fluid on his chest and stomach, and it made his hoodie cling to his skin. Surely Tony would notice something was off. His excitement was quickly turning into anxiety.

Peter spotted the expensive car, glad to see it was just Tony. No Happy in the driver’s seat. He didn’t want an audience to whatever this was going to be. It was 3 in the morning for fuck’s sake. This surely couldn’t be good.

Maybe Tony was going to tell him he couldn’t come by the lab anymore. It would make sense. Why would a nearly 50 year old man want to hang out with a 17 year old kid still in high school? That had to be it. 

He opened the passenger door, slipping into the seat with an awkward wave hello to Tony, who had turned to face him. He braced himself for the inevitable let down. It had been good while it lasted. But he couldn’t take advantage of Mr. Stark’s hospitality any more. He just hoped he could keep it together enough to not cry in front of him. God that would be mortifying. 

He looked at Tony, who still hadn’t said anything. He looked tired. Stressed. He probably hadn’t been eating well, if his history of working himself to death was anything to go off of. 

Peter opened his mouth to speak, and was silenced by Tony raising a hand to stop him. 

The older man’s eyes looked haunted. Like he was terrified of what he was about to say. 

“I’m only ever going to say this once. If you’re not interested, you’re completely free to leave this car and we never have to talk about this again. I don’t want you to feel like I’m making you do anything you’re not completely okay with.” His eyes darted around the car interior, anywhere but on Peter. “Fuck,” he continued, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This is crazy. What am I doing here Pete? This is insane.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, to ask for clarification, but one steely look from Tony silenced him once more. 

“I want you, Pete. Wanted you for a long time. I tried so hard to resist it. Tried to convince myself I just saw you as my kid. Tried so hard not to want you. But it’s not working. I don’t want to have these thoughts. These dirty, ugly thoughts about holding you down and having my way with you. But I am. I can’t deny it anymore. Fuck! I’m a disgusting old man, chasing after you.” His voice was hoarse, and it made Peter’s gut clench. 

Was this a fever dream or something? Tony’s words swam in his mind. Holding you down and having my way with you. Had Tony really just said that?

Tony let out a frustrated sigh, turning to stare at the car’s dash panel. “Fuck, forget what I said. I’m sorry. You should go back up to the apartment. We can just pretend that this never happened, yeah?”

Panic rose in Peter’s throat, No! He didn’t want to pretend. Didn’t want to sweep this under the rug. Not if Tony was saying what he thought he was saying. 

“No!” He called out, making Tony wince in shame. 

“I’m so sorry kid, I should never have come here. Should never have confessed all that to you. You’ll never have to hear from me again, promise.”Peter realized his mistake now. Tony thought he was turning him down. Shit.

“I mean, no. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I want you. Wanted you since the day you showed up and asked me to join your team. I’ve spent every night since dreaming about you. About what it would be like to be with you. Like, like that. 

Tony’s eyes widened, and Peter noticed his hands were shaking as they gripped the steering wheel.

He continued, “Please, Tony. I want this too.” And as he spoke, he laid a hand gently on Tony’s own. Tony let out a held breath, stuttered a laugh, and then suddenly he was leaning in to kiss Peter and it was everything.

Scorching hot and softness turning rough and Tony. He breathed in the heady scent. Cologne and motor oil and metal. Tony.

Tony gripped his hips, pulling him closer over the dash, desperate for more contact. His hands roamed Peter’s body, slipping up under his hoodie, eyes alighting with confusion as he made contact with Peter’s come-damp skin.

“I uhm… I may have been thinking about you right before you called,” he mumbled by way of an explanation. 

Tony let out a deep laugh, kissing him once more, this time softer, sweeter, taking his time. They stayed like that, groping and kissing and feeling the other, Peter half in Tony’s lap, thankful for super strength because there was no way his pre-Spidey self could have held that position without getting a leg cramp.

And then hands were roaming down, Peter fumbling with Tony’s zipper as he unsheathed Tony’s cock from the tight fabric. It was huge, thick and long with a slight upwards curve that made his mouth water. And then Tony was guiding him down, muttering happy hums of praise as he took Tony’s cock head into his mouth, savoring the salty sweet flavor of his pre-come. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he let Tony guide him, made little adjustments as Tony recommended.

He licked and lapped at the head, delighting in the steady stream of fluid dribbling into his hungry mouth. He took Tony deep into his throat, trying his best to relax his muscles, and bobbed his head like he’d seen in porn. Tony let out a grunt of appreciation, which was enough approval to encourage Peter to go faster, suck harder, until Tony was thrusting his hips, rutting up into his warm, wet mouth. 

A stream of filthy praise made his head swim. “That’s it, Pete. Fuck. you’re so good. Bet you’ve never done this before, but you’re taking me like a pro. You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? I can tell. So hungry for me. My little Spider slut. God, imagine how good it’ll feel when I pound into your tight hole. Wanna mark you up, claim you as mine. I’d be your first, wouldn’t I, baby boy?”

Peter hummed a noise of approval and took Tony deeper, until his cock hit the back of his throat. He fought the urge to gag, but Tony seemed to like that, was turned on by the fact that Peter was choking on his cock.“‘M gonna come. You ready Petey? Ready to swallow my come?” Tony’s voice was raw and strained, and he let out a low groan as he emptied himself into Peter’s throat, the milky warm come dribbling out even as he desperately tried to swallow every droplet.

Tony ruffled his hair, leaning back into the driver’s seat, gasping for air as Peter lifted his head. He kissed Peter, hungry and blissed out and all smiles.

And Peter felt safe, here in this car with the man he loved. He didn’t have to deny it anymore. Didn’t have to pretend he didn’t notice how good Tony’s ass looked in his jeans, didn’t have to try to hide his erection in the lab behind chemistry books and workshop tables.

They sat there for a while, in the quiet of the car, considering what this new development meant.

Eventually Tony kissed him again and with a sad look told him, “You should probably go back up to bed. Don’t want May to wake up and start worrying.”

Peter knew he was right. Knew this perfect moment couldn’t last forever. As he got out of the car, he turned back to ask, “Are we still on for Monday afternoon in the lab?”

Tony grinned back, “Absolutely baby, but somehow I think we’ll find ourselves too preoccupied to finish that new blaster we’ve been working on.” He winked and Peter shivered with anticipation. “Call it a hunch, but it might be quite some time before we’re back to working on anything productive.”

[sanguinesixx]

cat and mouse - seven

The game ends.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

tag list!: @raversam @miamc2282008 @perxxxveka @fandomshit6000 @ohsososophisticatedd @anxious-diabetic @wheresmyvodkabitch @princesadeltoro

I’M BACKKKKKKK!!!!! Also, I love angst, sorry!  Also I know that what she says about drugs at the end is kind of a problematic mindset and it doesn’t reflect my views on addiction at all, I was just trying to portray an argument. People say bad things when they’re angry y’know? Enjoy!!!

The sun slants through the windows and cuts into your eyes. You blink the sleep out of your vision and roll over groggily, only to hit a wall of warm skin and muscle. Your nose registers his scent before your eyes see who’s next to you.

You don’t remember much from the night before aside from bits and pieces before you got too high. The only things that stick out from the green induced blur of last night is the prickly feeling in your lungs and the way Nikki looked asleep next to you.

Climbing out of bed as gently as you can so not to wake the beautiful, sleeping man in your bed, you sneak out of the room and into the kitchen. Danielle is in the kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning.” You say groggily.

She looks up and grins at you. “Morning. You want a cup?”

You nod, and she makes you your own cup exactly how you like it. The mug is hot when she hands it to you, so you pull your sleeves down around your palms to keep your hands from being burned.

The two of you stand in silence and sip your respective coffees until Danielle, in true untactful Lee fashion, says, “So why is Nikki Sixx in your bed?”

You turn bright red. “W—he’s not—um,” you splutter. “I can explain.”

“Explain what?” Nikki says from behind you, leaning against the door frame. “All the dirty, nasty, passionate sex we had last night?”

Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “The what?”

Nikki sidles up behind you and snakes an arm around your waist to pull you to his side dramatically. He’s schooled his expression into one of total seriousness, but the corners of his lips twitch with the effort to not smile. “Have you forgotten already? You wound my fragile heart.”

Danielle snorts, burying her face in her coffee mug. Your face is so hot you aren’t convinced it’s not actually on fire. “Did we really?”

Nikki still doesn’t break character. “Yeah, you were so loud, God, I’m surprised the whole apartment didn’t wake up.”

Magically, your blush deepens.

“Oh, knock it off, Sixx, she’s gonna have an aneurysm,” Danielle looks like she’s trying not to smile, too. “You put too much faith in your sexual prowess, anyway.”

He flips her off and lets go of your waist. Relief sweeps over you, and for good measure, you punch his shoulder. Danielle makes an effort to slap him as hard as she can on the same shoulder, snickering, as she leaves the kitchen. He scowls.

“For fuck’s sake.” He mutters, then turns to you.

There’s suddenly look in his eyes like warm honey, one you have never seen before, and it makes you feel as if molasses is settling into your bones. Like everything is suddenly in slow motion. You’re locked in his gaze immediately,

“We have a show tonight. Come.” Nikki hesitates, and then says, “There’s a party after. At a hotel.”

You tear your gaze away from the sugary sweet expression on his face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Nikki.”

“Why not?”

“You know how I feel about you,” it feels like you’re drowning in the strange, molasses-y feeling. “And seeing you on stage...you just look so unattainable.”

A peek at his face reveals a look of confusion painted across his features. You continue, “Like—ugh—all the girls that want you, and the lights, and...your confidence when you go on stage is nothing like the confidence you have when you’re down here with the rest of us. When you’re not being a god.” Your voice drops to a murmur. “Watching you perform is the only time I feel like I want you so bad I might die.”

Nikki’s breath hitches audibly. When you look at him, his eyes are squeezed shut for the briefest of moments before he opens them and exhales steadily. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You don’t have to come to the show. At least come to the after party?”

You agree. Nikki steps away from you like he’s moving through the same thickness that captured you when he looked at you with that look in his eyes. You can’t quite place it.

You’re alone in the kitchen, drowning, until Danielle comes in, sees your untouched mug of coffee and promptly bitches at you about wasting things.

——

Danielle is thrilled that you asked her to style you. She goes with red power shoulders and high waisted jeans for herself. For you, she decides on a belted, over-sized leather jacket.

She agrees to skip the show with you after hours of trying to convince you, just so you don’t have to walk to the hotel alone. She doesn’t understand why you won’t go—”He’s so hot on stage, and you know it! What’s not to want to see?”—but lets up when she realizes you aren’t giving in.

The hotel lobby is quiet, surprisingly enough. Apparently, the boys got a couple floors’ worth of rooms to throw a party somewhere that wasn’t their house. Danielle says they got tired of having to replace things that got broken.

The elevator is full of pretty girls and guys with entire cans’ worth of hairspray in their hair. Everyone is buzzing with excitement when the doors open on the third floor, and music fills the air.

You’re immediately dragged into the smoky atmosphere and found by Tommy. He hands you a beer and a shot of clear liquor that you take immediately. You’re going to need to be drunk to let loose tonight.

The music is loud. It’s a huge surprise you couldn’t hear it from the lobby. Danielle hands you another shot and a joint, and before you even realize it, you’re dancing with Danielle in the thickest of the writhing crowd.

The lights are colorful, like you’re at a concert. You realize after some time has passed that you don’t know where you are. A hotel? A hotel room, the hallway, the lobby? No, you feel the wind, like you’re on the roof, and it’s cold.

Hands belonging to someone faceless from the throng of people grab your waist and you keep dancing against them, looking back occasionally to reassess whether you knew him, as if it mattered. Your senses are overloaded: you smell vodka and beer and whiskey and the city and sweat, and you can’t stop dancing, and Danielle is right in front of you and looks like she’s glowing and she’s a goddess, and you’re throwing back another shot, and there are hands all over you, and you’re laughing and yelling along with everyone else and being handed a cigarette and put it in your mouth the wrong way and burn your tongue and suddenly your whole body is on fire and it’s fucking delicious—

You’re on the ground. You feel the jarring impact some time after you hit the concrete. Everything is spinning like you’re on a fair ride. When your vision reorients itself, you see Nikki on top of the guy that had his hands on your waist. He’s throwing punches like he wants to kill this guy. The music is too loud for him to hear you screaming at him to stop. There’s blood on the concrete and on Nikki’s face and hands.

Before you can even produce a rational thought, you’re pulling at Nikki’s arms and yelling his name. He stops and stares at you like he’s looking into the sun. On the next tug, he stumbles and lets you drag him away.

You take him into the nearest stairwell and scream at everyone to get the fuck out. They all give you looks like you’re insane, but leave anyway once they see Nikki.

It’s quiet. You take a moment to clear your head, feeling like you’re trying to think through mud. Nikki is jittery and trembling, no doubt from cocaine. You have seen him coked out thousands of times by now, and even if you hadn’t, his pupils areba dead giveaway.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You finally ask, miraculously keeping your voice level.

“He was touching you.” He says simply.

Your anger bubbles up in your chest and explodes. “So was Danielle! Are you going to hit her? Are you going to fucking attack everyone that touches me? Are you fucking crazy?”

Nikki opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel on, “We aren’t even together, and you think you can lay claim on me like that? Like you’re allowed to decide who gets to put their fucking hands on me?

“And what happened to getting sober? You’re high as a fucking kite right now, Nikki! And you attacked some random guy like a psycho! Have you lost your goddamn mind? Are you even listening to me right now?”

He runs a hand down his face. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You don’t fucking know what? If you’re listening to me?”

“I don’t know why I got high, or why I did that, or what’s wrong with me.”

You make a foreign noise somewhere between a scoff and a high pitched, shrieking laugh. “What game are you playing with me, Nikki Sixx?”

“I’m not—”

“Then what are you doing?” You shout. Your voice echoes off the walls. “You try to seduce me for a bet, and then embarrass me on purpose, and then when I finally forgive you after months, you assault some poor fucking man neither of us even know just for dancing with me!”

“God, I’m sorry, the drugs...they bring out the worst in me.” He looks helpless. You feel a flash of pity before it’s drowned out by disdain.

You turn on your heel to get Danielle and leave. “Maybe it is the drugs that make you act like a piece of shit, but you choose to keep doing them, so what does that say about you?”

“Y/N, stop, I’m sorry—” Nikki calls after you. “I’ll go to rehab! Anything! I’m sorry, please. Don’t leave.”

You’re already gone.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Dangerous (Part 2/2)

Description: After meeting two handsome men in a club in London and finding out that these two men are friends, you were excited about trying something you've never done before.

A/N: This is sooo inspired by The Golden Rule (The Lonely Island) because I think these two sang it immediately after she told them to meet her outside the club in ten. 👀🤣

Tagging: @missdictatorme​ @yaeji-passion​

Playlist: The idiot dumbass sandwich that stole my heart™

Part 1.

"Can you take Amber home?" - You asked Monica who was already supporting your drunk friend on her shoulder. She first opened up her mouth, but as soon as she saw standing the two men in the rain smoking and chatting, she understood.

That was so wild she giggled with a surprised expression. You weren't sure about leaving with one guy, but suddenly, there were both of them waiting for you to take your time. You never came across as a friend who would like something so... Nasty. Monica never had tried something like that, neither had you, but she understood as soon as she saw both of them.

"I knew you had it in you, you freak." - She giggled when drunk Amber told you threw a hundred times how much she loves you and that you're the best maid of honor on the whole world. - "Show them who's the boss here." - She slapped your ass, making you jolt excitedly - and placing dirty grins on the men's faces. You watched as the two of them getting into the cab, knowing well that once they leave you'll be in the hands of these two men. Which made you nervous.

"Any problems here, ladies?" - Sam strolled next to you, smiling at Amber already sitting on the backseat. She pointed at the man, opened up her mouth and squealed. She knew she already has seen him that night. Monica but a hand over her mouth as soon as she started to frantically mumble something, giving Drake one of those smiles. - "No that I would be aware of one, Mr. Drake. And be careful with her, because I'll find you and cut your weenie off if one of you does something she doesn't like, are we clear?" - She asked sweetly, having both you and Amber looking at her.

Although Sam looked mysterious for a second, soon, he started to laugh. - "Understood, Miss Monica. But trust me, the things on my mind... She's going to love all of it." - He winked at Monica, closing the door behind her. For a second, you were still standing there, Sam was still smoking and watched the cab with your friends leaving. - "Can we?" - The man grinned at you, walking backward to Charlie who was waiting for you, watching you with his palms in the pockets of his jeans.

The ride to Cutter’s apartment wasn't anything special - the bald man had a palm over your shoulder while Drake sat from the other side, having his palm on your knee, smoothing it subconsciously. You were sitting there between the two men, listening to them having a conversation about historical research.

These two weren't only someone who wanted to get laid for the night or some animals without respect to women, otherwise, you wouldn't be clothed when getting out of the cab. They were smart - and you meant seriously smart. Cutter was talking about a specific historical period this thing was supposed to be from and Sam sometimes hummed, responding a few words.

It was a surprise when the cab stopped in front of a huge, tall building in one of the better locations in London. Your friend told you that you'd have to be extremely rich and crazy to live there, which Cutter probably was. Just the entrance hall and a small yard inside the complex made you wonder - it was something built in an antique style with a pool in there.

"You live here?" - You asked when you were taking the stairs to the third floor, still looking onto the yard. Cutter turned his head at you. It was the first time you asked them something since you got out of the club. Normally, girls had a million questions about threesomes - like who’s on the top, who’s the bottom, if they have to do the infamous sandwich and so on... And yet, even if it was evident that you're doing this for the first time, your mouth was shut the whole time. So he smiled at you.

"Yeah. But it’s not because I have money to waste." - Charlie answered with true honesty in his face. - "He's extremely claustrophobic." - Sam said with a neutral expression, making you look at Charlie more attentively. Such a tall man, a macho man if you will, was afraid of small spaces? Yeah, you could see why he liked that place, yet the money he was paying for this place must've been crazy.

The men didn't tear the clothes off you even after the door to Cutter’s apartment was locked. They went straight to the bedroom... But not to fuck you senseless, yet to have another chit-chat and a glass of Scotch. Was the threesome even happening? Or..?

So while these two were talking in front of the big wall made out of glass, you were looking at the things Cutter had there - there was a lot of books, some ancient things you held in your hand for a second, then there was a huge TV with a lot of movies to choose from... And the bedroom looked messy and cozy as hell. Charlie didn't spend too much time thinking about the bedsheets or tidying them up, but it wasn’t smelly or anything.

You heard them bickering when you walked to the stereo, looking at the playlist Cutter had there. You smiled after reading the name of the song - and an idea came across your mind. You pressed play, letting it yell loudly all over the big bedroom.

The men didn't look at you, so you rose your hands above your head, swaying your hips in the bass guitar's melody, having a smile on your lips. That was when Samuel poked Cutter's hip, both of them shifting their attention to you.

You were dancing around, playing with your hair, showing them what you could do. When the second chorus came around, you looked at the men, slowly tugging the wet t-shirt from your body, revealing the bra you had on. Your boobs jumped around when you swayed your hips one more time, pointing both your fingers at them to lure them closer.

Samuel put the glass down, walking to you first. His palms copied the motion of your hips, his pelvis joining yours in the provocative movements. Charlie would be good with just watching Sam kissing you slowly as you danced, yet he didn't miss on the opportunity to press his chest on your back. The bulge on your ass showed you that he's into that as well.

Gently, you let Samuel's lips go, searching for the back of Cutter's head. When you found it, you let him kiss you as well, moaning again at the sensation. Each of you was moving the same rhythm and you were nothing but three bodies slowly destroyed with lust. While Sam kissed your neck and pulled your jeans a bit lower with his fingers, Charlie was kissing you and palming these incredible two girls you had on your chest.

"What about a quick shower before the long night, lovebug?" - Sam breathed out into your neck, slowly getting the pants even lower. Cutter slowly leaned from your lips, having you looking at him like the baby girl you were. - "Mate's idea is great, cutie. Come or we'll show you how bad girls are treated." - The older man agreed with Samuel, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom. You made sure to drag Samuel along as well, giving him a sweet smile when you did so.

The bathroom was horrendously huge as well. Charlie might have some problems with small spaces in the end. Cutter was there to snap you out of the trance by taking the bra off of you and letting it fall on the ground along with your jeans. You helped him with kicking at away, walking to the shower right after that. You hated the England plumbing system. Once the water poured down on you, you yelled when it was ice-cold, then it suddenly went boiling and it took you almost ten minutes before you found the temperature you were okay with.

It was strange to see one of the men already naked, specifically cutter, but the other one leaning into the counter with a sink, lighting another cigarette up. Samuel loved the sight in front of him. It didn't strike him that your make-up was already smudged and your hair wet, he was in love with the gaze you were giving him. You had the vibe of an animal standing in the lights of a car, partially covering yourself with your hands while showing him these exquisite buttcheeks. Jesus, you were beautiful.

"You're not coming in?" - You asked, already feeling Charlie standing not even feet away from you. To make you more relaxed, Cutter started with massaging your back with some shower gel, earning an honest smile from you. But Samuel shook his head, enjoying the scenery. - "I'm good just here, baby."

There was something wickedly erotic about watching his friend getting a girl prepared, just as something was turning on you when you saw Samuel’s eyes not moving away from you. - "Drake, that cabinet on the right, third shelf. Fetch me the wipes." - Charlie turned your face to him, smiling at you while his fingers smoothed the hair off your face. Sure, your make up was running. - "Am I that ugly?" - You asked both the boys, earning a gentle ass slap from the bald man.

"I don't want you to have some rash or a burned skin in the morning, pet, but if you're into this stuff, I won't be stopping you." - Charlie answered you, putting the showerhead in a different direction, looking at your face. To be honest, you hadn't met a guy who would remember this sort of stuff. And it was nice of both of them. Charlie had some gentle-ass fingers, gently wiping every last shit off your face.

Holy shit, you even had the natural beauty other girls could dream about. That was a thing which made his boner go even wilder. And being the little minx you were, you pushed your belly to meet it, nettling it with all the gentleness. - "You little naughty girl." - Cutter laughed at you, still holding the wipe between his fingers before smiling down on you. It didn't take him long before he leaned in, pressing your back to the wall so you would have a good view on Samuel, who was watching the action with a contained smile.

It was just the way you hoped it would be - Cutter was quick and skilled with that mouth, slipping down on his knees before you could say shit. His palm slipped directly between your thighs, playing with you for a second before he turned his head to Samuel. You had already been smiling and biting your lip because it felt nice to feel a man down there.

"You should feel how wet this pet is, mate." - Cutter his at Drake who was staring in your eyes the whole time. Your expression changed fairly fast as Cutter worked wonders with entering you and slipping out. For a moment, your mouth was opened, then you bent it until touched the wall, moaning into the ceiling and after that, you closed your eyes, moaning Cutter’s surname. When you would swear it couldn't get better, Cutted swung your leg over his shoulder, burying his face between your legs.

At that sight, Samuel licked his lips, feeling himself getting seriously hard in those pants. Both your palms smoothed the back of the Britishman’s head, pushing him further in. Your breasts were rising and falling in the unsteady rhythm of your breathing, you were barely speaking.

For real, your inability to speak was perfectly reasonable. Cutter knew how to work a girl up until the point she goes crazy for the D, although that night, he was aware that you weren't only his plaything. Cutter was holding back and you still screamed his surname soon enough, holding your head in place, staring into Samuel's eyes. The music changed into something edgier and inviting.

There was a moment when you got lost in the moment, holding Cutter in his place, focusing on the rhythm of his tongue. You could feel all the gentles sucks and swirls, making you weaker and weaker. Along with the fingering, it was a heavenly combination. And you got really surprised when another hand-pulled Charlie from finishing you off completely.

"Let's go the bed, I want to play as well, pal." - Sam smiled wickedly, watching you fighting for every small breath. It didn't mean shit that you were all wet from the water because soon enough, your back leaned into Sam's chest. He already took off his t-shirt, kneeling on the bed in jeans.

Charlie took his time to dry the worst off, waking into the room after you with his pants back on, having a visible bulge in his groin. His chin was still provocatively glistering as he kneeled in front of you, smiling at Sam when his palm caressed your inner thigh.

Was this a hell or heaven? It was hard to tell the difference when you watched Cutter kissing the other thigh. Just when you wanted to circle the back of his head again, Samuel kept your palms directly in place. It was making you feel safe to hold and direct Cutter during eating you out, yet the discomfort to use them make you even wetter. You couldn't stop him once you'll cum. Which meant that you'll be at Charlie's grace.

"Look at him, honey, come on." - Samuel hugged your thighs with his knees, holding you in place. You did as you were told, feeling Drake gently biting on your neck. - "I want you to look at this guy while he'll eating your pussy out, be a doll, will you?" - Drake kissed your ear gently and you nodded, staring at Charlie when he dove back inside, making sure that his fingers are all the way in.

"Her throat, mate." - Charlie mumbled with a concentrated face, having Sam understand immediately. Another palm circled your throat skillfully, squeezing it just enough to have you on the edge, yet not hurting you or have you feeling uncomfortable. - "Attagirl." - Charlie hummed before kissing the sweet spot and curling his fingers inside of you. He had you moaning in a matter of seconds. Cutter spread your legs, even more, having a contained smile of a small boy on his face.

They knew what they were doing, which was evident from each move. They might be in the bed for the first together, but their teamwork was undeniable. While Samuel was praising you for being such a good girl, he made sure you won't try to touch Cutter and as a bonus, he was gently holding your throat. Cutter showed you his giving nature, making you cum twice before he was done with you. At the second one, he had you screaming and rolling eyes, and in those moments, you were beautiful.

After that, he gave Samuel a nod. His jaws needed some rest, so it was up to Drake to have his fun with you. Not for too long, of course, but enough time to get the fun started and some time for a cigarette.

You were ready with your eyes closed, sweat all over your body, your legs were performing a straightway spread eagle when Samuel was getting ready. Sam was looking down on you, taking in all of the beauty while Charlie sat in the corner, having a bulge in his pants and juices all over his face. You didn't know why didn't he wiped them off, yet it felt vulgar to see him wearing a piece of you in such an erotic manner.

There was something vulgar and erotic about seeing his friend fucking a woman he was into as well for Cutter. But he couldn't help himself at the moment he got up and got ready the tease the shit out of Drake.

"Are you sure what to do here, mate? Wanna help?" - Cutter broke the silence, walking next to the bed. His palm gently smoothed your hair, traveling down to cup your breast just moments after that. A moan could be heard when he gently teased your nipple.

"What the fuck are you trying to say, you fuck? Of course, I know what to do." - Samuel frowned, being taken back by Charlie's question. It completely ruined the flow inside Sam's head yet at that moment, you weren't that invested in the actual conversation since Cutter's palms were still playing with you, slowly smoothing your skin until it lingered above your pelvis.

"Sure looks like it, punk. Wanna me to show you how to please a woman?" - Cutter looked Sam in the eyes, completely ignoring his friend being naked.

"Excuse me? You have nothin' on me, so fuck off, sit down and watch." - Samuel hissed back, being completely taken away. Cutter rose his eyebrows, smoothing you with the tips of his fingers, slipping back between your thighs.

"Move, nitwit, I'll show you magic." - Charlie gently pushed Samuel away, still working wonders down there. Yet this time, you paid attention since the warmth around your ankles disappeared.

"Magic up my ass, it's my turn. Fuck off." - Samuel pushed him back, not violently, but it was enough for even the palm between your legs to disappear. You pushed them back together immediately, sitting up to look at these two idiots with your mouth open. What the hell was happening there?

"You fuck off, Drake, or should I show you what a man's punch looks like?" - Cutter threw the cigarette to the ashtray, standing up in front of Sam. Your eyes widened when you realized. These two were fighting. So you got on your knees, putting a hand of both naked chests.

"Boys, is this about trying to figure out who can piss further, or will you have some with me? Calm down, act like damn adults." - You mumbled, shaking your head. Were they forty or fucking five? It was hard to tell, yet more likely, they were mentally children.

"She's right. And you should be glad that she’s here because, under different circumstances, you'd get your face punched." - Cutter stepped back again while slapping you asscheek before sitting back into his chair. It could be felt that for Cutter, slaps on your ass are more or less showing a sings of affection - it never hurt and after each of them, he always gave you a heartwarming smile.

You wondered if he does it normally, in his everyday life. You always found it cute when a man caught his loved one's bottom, slapped it gently, or just held it. He sure seemed like that kind of a man.

After a small smile, you put your focus back on Samuel. The music playing was the only thing you heard when you leaned into the man, tugging him in for a kiss. And it wasn't just any kind of kiss - his palm tugged your hair harshly to lay you down. He crawling on top of you in the process. The warmth of his body never left you for a moment, the pressure on your hair didn't disappear either. Samuel was the boss for the moment and you were fully on board with that fact.

You didn't expect the first penetration come with such a force and as soon as it did. This man had it written in his face - the smile was telling you that he's an animal and that soon, you'll scream for God to help you while Cutter will be just sitting there and watching you. The pace of the act was fast; Sam was doing a lot of things, but riding your wet cunt slowly? That wasn’t one of them. It didn't take him even a minute to make you arch your back and to scratch his shoulders when you tried to keep up with him.

It wasn’t brutal or enjoyable, no, but it was a bit rougher than what you were used to, that was all. And you didn't want the man to stop at all, you did all you could to match his pace. There was scratching, begging, moaning, rolling your eyes, sloppy kisses. It was a cute show to watch you two fucking for Cutter. It could be heard that Drake knows what he's doing, especially when he slipped out and pulled back in forcefully.

The most magnificent moment of the whole show came when you rose your knees to circle Samuel’s hips as you turned your had to the other man in the chair. Cutter leaned closer too, gazing back into your eyes. - "Oh my fucking God." - Was a single scream before you came with an animalistic growl, shaking violently under the American, making him chuckle as he stood up.

"I think this girl is ready for the last number of the night." - Samuel kissed your shoulder, looking at Cutter while palming himself. Charlie smiled as well, having a similar position in his head as well.

"Last number of the night?" - You chuckled, still feeling the heights of orgasm crawling inside your body. Cutter licked his lips as his trousers fell to his ankles, gently turning on your belly. These men were something else. Were you ready for one last time? - "Of course, pet, there will be more coming in the morning." - Cutter bit your earlobe as you felt him entering you again. You couldn't see his member properly, yet he wasn’t the smallest at all.

"Use your elbows, honey. It'll be better." - Sam smiled and kneeled to gave you a kiss when he saw your eyes getting teary. Of course, every position was just the question of the time you get used to it, but this was something extremely new. You did doggy style before, but after just ending with one man to have another entering you, that was something. After the kiss, Charlie finally moved inside and caught your hips to let you get used to the rhythm of the sloppy fucking. Sam could see how contained he feels and on the way you put your hands to support your face, it seemed that you're starting to feel it too.

That was also the moment when you realized why Samuel is standing with his dick directly centimeters from your face. And also the comment about elbows made sense suddenly. With a quick sigh, you leaned in to lick at least the tip of it, only for Cutter to pull you back, getting all of him inside of you. The bald man was teasing the shit out of you until the moment you grabbed Sam’s thigh and clenched your nails to keep him close. He, on the other hand, grabbed your hair rather forcefully leading the place.

Sam checked for tears or red flags all the time - if you wouldn't like sucking his cock, he would just jerk it off. If you'd like to vomit, he would stop immediately. But just when he hit the back of your mouth, you slipped even further down, completely ignoring the gagging reflex. At that feeling, he bent his head backward with a lustful chuckle, putting the second hand into your hair as well.

"Jesus, mate. This feels so good." - Cutter hummed, slapping your ass again. Slowly, he was increasing the speed of his tempos, now getting at the speed of a drill. Samuel smiled at his remark, watching his cock inside your mouth. - "This one’s cute and handy. We hit the jackpot."

Not too long after both boys praising the living fuck out of you, Charlie became ruthless, bouncing your ass on his dick roughly to chase the release. Sam knew that this would be too much, so he stepped back whole having one of his palms entwined with yours, finishing himself off.

To be honest, you felt good. You have never felt better. You accepted Sam’s help with getting into the bathroom to clean both of you from the cum, letting Cutter change the sheets since the cum was everywhere there as well. The bald man landed you one of his flannel, old shirts, letting you lay the way you felt the most comfortable on his fucking huge bed, turning on the TV for you so you could watch something before the men finish the rest, like cleaning themselves, changing into fresh clothes and cleaning up the bedroom.

It was nice, even when the whole thing was done. The men were joking, chuckling, and checking on you. They made you even something to eat before going to sleep.

"How you're feeling, missy?" - Cutter asked and smoothed the hair off your face. Your smile was beaming through the dark bedroom. Only a blind person wouldn't see how tired you were, but you were happy. Such good sex... Who wouldn't be happy? - "It’s Y/N."

Sam surprised chuckled from smoothing your back. - "You didn't even know her name? Oh, Charles..." - Samuel sighed, kissing the back of your neck gently before leaning his chin into your shoulder to watch the movie on the TV.

"I still like pet better." - Charlie smiled, getting up from the bed to give you a small notebook. - "Would like to have your number if it wouldn't be a problem." - The Britishman asked and looked at the movie too.

"Why?" - You asked, but you wrote your name, surname and phone number in nonetheless, adding a small smiley-face at the end.

"Drake and I happen to travel the world often these days, and it would be a pleasure to meet you again. I mean, inside of the bed or in it, it doesn't matter." - Cutter disappeared with the small notebook, and you turned your face to Drake still resting his chin on your shoulder. He didn't look at you, but he did smile.

Boys weren't lying to you. In the morning, you had a pretty sweet waking up with Charles between your legs, seeing Mr. Drake in the bathroom right after that. They rode you back to the hotel, saying goodbye with the sweetest smiles and kisses. And soon after you got back home, you already got a text message.

When you're free?

[dragonshadow02]

Part one of my fic for the #bakudekubirthdayexchange for CB who I don't know if is on tumblr. I saw someone say they would post theirs chapter by chapter and I kind of like the idea. Especially since I'm waiting for my Ao3 password reset.

Notes: in this AU Izuku didn't gain OFA from Allmight.

Courting a Villian-

The warehouse was silent, save for the drip, drip, drip of the rain and the soft whimpers of the woman bound to the wall. The sole other occupant of the building was waiting on the thin catwalk above for the rest of the players to set the stage. 

Izuku Midoriya-Deku- former hero enthusiast- and currently one of the most dangerous villains Musutafa had ever known- was done playing games. Someone would come busting into his sanctuary soon, and who it was would decide his captives fate. If they had decided to play nice and read his little love letter, he knew exactly who it would be...and if they hadn't, he got to play-it would be fun either way. A shiver of excitement traveled down the emerald haired villains spine, Ground Zero would be here soon ready to fight, and -if he was lucky something far more enjoyable.  The dark grey and green-clad figure rose from his crouch with a soft creak of metal, the catwalk was in disrepair, covered in rust but he was confident that it would do its job. The pale man's lips twitched as he heard a soft sound, neck rolling as he looked to the side. There was no extra light, he had known there wouldn't be, but the heavy tread of combat boots was hard to miss. In one smooth movement, Izuku launched himself over the safety rail, freefalling to land like a cat on the dirty concrete. 

"Welcome, Kacchan"  He rose from his crouch as he spoke, lips spreading into a wide, slightly deranged grin. With a small click of the remote in his pocket the lights came on, illuminating his freckled face, and most importantly, his captive. The villian was far more interested though, in the hero that opposed him. The low light cast shadows over his face, but Izuku could imagine the way his brow creased in anger. Ground Zero was always ten times more attractive when he was angry...Or maybe that's just him being twisted. He had been told he was insane by more than one person-of course they usually ended up dead...but that didn't matter.  Bakugou was the focus of his universe. They had shared a dream, a dream to become the number one hero, but Izuku had been born quirkless. Once All Might himself had told Izuku that he could never be a hero, he had spiraled into a deep depression, he had turned his back on All Might after Kacchans rescue, even though the hero had tried to talk to him again. Being told off for trying to save a friend had been the last thing he'd needed and he was positive that, that was what his idol had had in mind. Watching Katsuki get prepared for the U.A. Exam...being told he would never be a hero- It had broken him. His dreams had been gone.  He had continued to hero chase, and record and theorize by habit, but the fire behind the curiosity was gone. That had all changed when he had stumbled upon his childhood doctor meeting with a group of known villains. 

     / Izukus hand was shaking as he wrote slowly in his notebook, mouth dry with fear. He was going to die. As much as he had thought about it in the wake of his recent setback, being faced with the reality was terrifying. He didn't want to die. He couldn't move other than the delicate scratch of pen across the paper.  A soft shuffling sound came from behind him and his heart jumped with terror, there was an impact against his head...then blackness and he knew no more/

The villain shook his head to clear it, he shouldn't be thinking about the weakling he had been. The Doctor had seen his analytical mind as an asset, had given him a quirk, a way to be useful. Izuku hadn't realized until Katsuki was in his second year at U.A. that the powerful quirk he had been given had been his own that the doctor had stolen from him as a child. It was then that he had decided never to let anyone take advantage of him again. He had left the League and made sure they would never try to take him back. He would become the number one villain, Kacchans foil.  He was more than a little in love with the hero that currently stood in front of him, growling with impatience, but Izuku was standing silent with a crooked grin on his face. Finally, Ground Zero had had enough and stomped forward towards his silent rival, fists crackling menacingly with explosions. 

"What the FUCK are you doing you crazy nerd? You told them to send me and I fucking came. Give me the hostage and crawl back into whatever hole you came out of."

Izuku raised a finger and waggled it back and forth, taking a step back and waving an arm grandiosely in the direction of the struggling woman. "  The wife of....whatever his name is is right there. I haven't hurt a hair on her pretty little head." He twitched a finger and the chain wrapped around the woman's neck tightened. " Yet."

He tilted his head to the side slowly, green eyes meeting masked crimson. " She's not important, just you..." He took a step towards Katsuki. " I needed you to come because you weren't answering my calls" A pout fell over Izukus freckled face " I wanted to ask you out Kacchan...expecially after all of the fun we've had." The metal jangled and tightened again ripping a strangled gasp from the woman.  " Since you wouldn't let me ask you out, I've decided that you get to court me instead." He tilted his whole body to the side and looked at the ash-blonde hero through green bangs. " Doesn't that sound fun? If you agree I'll give her to you as a...faith gift. If you refuse, she dies and you get to tell the head of the Heroes Commission that you let his wife die...so sad for you and your victories" The answering snarl was music to Izukus ears.  He continued quickly before Katsuki could get a word in. " So Kacchan, this is how it'll be... You. court me. Bring me presents...ask me on dates" He waved a hand. " Knit me a scarf" His smirk grew into a grin as he added that little bit of humiliation in...Katsuki hated knitting. Forty-Five calls and over a hundred text messages from various burner phones and Katsuki hadn't responded to a single one. Izuku was feeling a little ghosted to say the least. He knew he'd have to take drastic measures to get what he wanted. 

" You're out of your fucking MIND if you think I'll agree to that bullshit." The blonde had grown better at keeping his temper from effecting his quirk, but Izuku could see the glow of his palms as he clenched them tightly. " I'm not going to act like a fucking girl."

"ah, ah, aaah men can knit too" Izuku waggled his finger again. " Do you really want to lose your perfect streak? I thought you wanted to be number one, Kacchan" He shrugged slowly as his rival seethed. " A hero always wins....isn't that what you said once?"  The green-haired villian started to walk towards the woman on the wall only to be body blocked by Katsuki. A feral grin spread across the villians face, that was more like it. 

He may not have a strength quirk but he was durable, and he'd been through hell in Musutafas underground. He and Katsuki had met each other in battle more than once and had broken even. 

The green-eyed Villian jumped back from the hit to minimize its strength, bringing the power of his mind to bear to keep Katsuki away from him for now. Their usual fight and fuck routine wasn't his aim right now and he knew if they got into a brawl that was exactly what would happen. Izuku could feel the adrenaline singing through his veins pushing him to fight, but he wanted more than that now. 

His hand raised and his captive gagged again. " We're not here for that Kacchan. No fighting this time. Deal or no deal." Was dating him...wooing him so objectionable that Katsuki would let someone die to avoid it? Or was it the scarf thing? It didn't matter. Date or Death. That's what it came down to. Green eyes held crimson yet again, but this time Izuku wouldn't turn away, jaw set in a stubborn line as his captive passed out from lack of oxygen.  Katsuki snarled and punched the scarred villain in the jaw before turning towards the woman. " This is the worst fucking way to ask someone out, nerd. No fucking girly shit but I'll take you on a goddamn date like you want." Ground Zero freed his captive, checking her pulse and throwing a nasty smirk over his shoulder. " Should have known you'd be begging for more after you'd had a taste." The heroes cocky voice sent a shiver of arousal through the villain even as is irritated him.  " Am I begging Kacchan, or do I have you exactly where I want you?" He whispered as he let the hero carry her out the window. Apparently he'd need something a little more convincing to get the kind of reaction he wanted from his obsession. He really wanted that scarf. He wanted Katsuki to make something...show Izuku that he was worth the effort. He had seen a teenager work for hours for her beloved. it was a connection between them, those feelings. He wanted Katsuki to prove he felt something more for him than lust...even though they would always be on different sides and one would kill the other eventually...that was an understanding he knew they had. Katsuki would never let anyone but Izuku kill him, and Izuku refused to let anyone but Katsuki have that honor...but at least they would have now. 

He would need to send a more strongly worded love letter, luckily he knew exactly where to find it. 

[jj-lynn21]

Party At Greenwald’s ch 6

Warnings: fluff,  angst, possessive relationship

Images courtesy of @dearcardan on twitter, @billofourtime,imdb, mood board my creation

Music: Party Mix 2018 

ch 1   ch 2  ch 3 ch 4 ch 5ch ch 7

{flash back continued}

When you get back to the guest house you grab your phone to create the email account. Luckily the name isn’t taken. Mark made some turkey sandwiches and you threw together macaroni salad with the leftover cheddar mac. You were getting into such a great flow doing things together. It made you very happy.

Maybe the happiest you had been your whole life other than the fact you could never go out to party with others. Neither of you had done any drugs in almost a month. Just drank a lot of wine. The stores were still delivering great wine with the food you wanted.

You watched True Blood as you snuggled, escalating into more as the show went on. Both of you naked. Your legs straddled over his lap looking towards the television. You thought you were going to be able to watch the show as you as your body bounced with his every thrust. But Mark acted as if he was jealous of your reactions. He pulled your head back by the hair.

“Eyes on me,” he pants. “That’s all wig and make up. I’m real. I’m right here fucking you until you cum.”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Oh, damn I love you…Yes… Mark…I”

He groans “Fuck yeah, I love you, Princess.” He grabs your hips force you down on his cock harder. He growls in your ear as his balls tighten.

“Oh Fuck Mark…” The growl pushes you over the edge and he knew it would. “YES YES…awwww yes”

“Fffffuck…yes…,” he cums. Pulls you back to lay over him. He turns the TV off. “That’s not to bad of a show you picked Babe. Better than those sparkling vampire ones Lily made me watch.”

You looked at him curiously, “Have you been thinking about her since Abra said she was in town?”

Mark chuckles, “let’s take a shower. We have a sort of party to get ready for. You should check your email for the time.”

You got up and started upstairs mumbling, “You still have a thing for someone who never really cared about you.”

“Hey,” Mark grabbed your shoulder before you got to the stairs, “I don’t give a fuck about that bitch. I guess it’s just being back home. Back in this place brings up memories. Not good memories. We have some crazy memories together. But never have I doubted you loved me. Like you said she never really cared about me. Never really loved me.”

You turned and just hugged him tight for a few minutes.

As you showered, Mark puts out what he wants you to wear. He puts out jean and a paisley print button up shirt for him. You walked in the bedroom in with a towel wrapped around your body and another wrapping your hair.

“Do I get to wear panties and a bra tonight?” You smirk since the last time he put an outfit out for you he didn’t want you wearing under garments.

Mark chuckles, “Yeah, I picked out a set I love that will show under the lace top and shorts.”

“You want me to parade around in that with your friends?” You looked surprised.

“Your mine and I want to show you off,” He grins. “Plus, they won’t be wearing much more.”

You just shake your head. He goes to shower. The invite on the email from Bex directs you to sign up on houseparty.com. When everyone is on you can video chat. A music  list is also included to play in the background. You find the music to download to your phone. Then you set houseparty.com up on your laptop.

At 10pm you and Mark grab some beers and sit the laptop on the desk. You Angled wide so the video will show you on the couch and dancing behind it. You set your phone to the playlist.

“Hey, everyone.” Bex says sitting by Abra. “We are quarantining at my apartment. How are you all doing?”

Another window opens with Lily and her grey bearded, bald headed husband by her side. “Hey everyone. We’re good in our neck of the woods.”

You buried your head in Marks shoulder to hide your laughter. He looked more like he was seventy-five than in his fifties.  

Mark kept a straight face, “Hey, this is my girl, (YN). Bex and Abra met her earlier today.”

You thought you would be in the least amount of cloths, but Lily has what looks like string bikini that barely covers her. Bex and Abra have short shorts and cami’s.  

“Turn the music on,” Bex got up to hit hit the music on her ipad.

You hit play on your phone.

Mark chuckles, “All to familiar Bex. Did you get all the songs from senior year?”

“Hell yeah I did, “She and Abra started dancing. “Not all the memories are bad. Do you remember the first party we had at Greenwald’s. His parents were almost always out of town so we could do whatever we wanted.”

“Dance with the girls, Princess,” Mark suggests. “Yeah, good night, I think. I remember trying to hide the hangover from my parents. My mom thought I had the flew from not wearing a coat outside.” He laughed.

“I remember we fucked that night we met,” Lily smirked.

She was sitting on her husband’s lap. You were up dancing. A beer in hand. You ignored Lily’s comment.

Mark said, “Sorry, Lily I have no memory of that night and many others at Greenwald’s. It was great to forget shit for a night or two. Man, I really miss partying. My frat house was a big fucking party every evening at 10pm until around 6am Thursday, Friday and Saturday.”

You throw yourself on Mark’s lap, “I vouch for that. Usually ending with Mark going down on me sooo good. But I get that now to.” You giggle getting tipsy already.

Mark blushed.

Lily glares, “Good for you. That was the cause of our biggest fight.”

“I thought our biggest fight was because you sent dirty pictures to another old dude who was married.” Mark spit out like it tasted nasty in his mouth.

Abra pointed her finger at the screen, “Enough of that shit talking about each other. We are here to dance and reminisce about good things. Like ruling the school and having a great time doing it.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark pouted. “We had some great times. Better nights that I loved, I can’t really remember.” He laughs holding up his beer. “To Greenwald’s”

You and the others all hold up their beers, “To Greenwald’s.”

Bex falls onto her couch, “Sounds like some of us matured more than others that pretend to be.”

An obvious dig at Lily for not apologizing. Lily rolls her eyes.

She pulls her husband up, “We’re dancing.”

Shape of you plays as she rolls her body up and down her husband.

Mark picks you up standing you up. He puts his forehead to yours humming the song. You slide your hand up his neck to his cheek. Mark mouths the words, “I’m in love with the shape of you…”

Lily husband is noticeable excited. “Does this mean we get to have sex tonight?”

She just glares at him.

“Sorry Lily, I know its not our normal night.” He seems completely subservient to her.

Mark and you kiss so you don’t laugh out loud at Lily’s poor husband. Abra and Bex are laugh. They are also smoking marijuana that might be making everything a little funnier to them.

“So how many time a week do you and your Princess have sex Mark,” Bex laughs just knowing its way more than lily.

You speak up, “That’s a difficult number to really calculate. One to three times a day every day unless I really need a break. My legs and my pussy ach for more than a day sometimes.”

Mark grins as he grinds against your ass. Arms around you from behind. You are looking towards the screen as their mouths all drop open with envy.  

“Sorry, Princess.” Mark’s grin just gets bigger.

“And then sometimes I can’t think straight for hours after,” you brag.

“Are you insinuating he fucks your brains out?” Bex comments.

“I wouldn’t put it that crassly but sure,” you blush.

“She is so amazing,” Mark brags.

You drink and chat with everyone eventually passing out in Mark’s arms.

[pcygoldenchild]

𝑅𝐸𝒟 𝒮𝐼𝑅𝐸𝒩 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 6

🚨summary: You’re a dangerous woman in the mafia who gets a rather interesting relationship with 9 equally dangerous men who fall to your feet willing to please you.

🚨warnings: NSFW, violence, anal, cunnilingus/ fellatio, dirty talk, BDSM, sexual intercouse, gang bang, masturbation...(does not pertain to all parts)

𝒯𝓊𝑒𝓈𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 7𝓅𝓂

“Princess you’re not coming with us wearing that.” Junmyeon said looking you up and down. There was a business dinner much like the one you first met them at but this one wouldn’t involve fucking anyone, at least not sexually. This was an important meeting for EXO to brag about their ranking and new establishments within the last month. Every big name in this business had events like this; ones where they showed all those below them why they were the Kings. You being the only female of your ranking gave you the title “Queen of Hearts” or “Red Queen”. Your little business dinner was always such a big deal; only a week after theirs.

“What is wrong with what I’m wearing?” you question him. You were wearing a black lace dress that stopped at your thigh and hugged your body tight. It didn’t leave much to imagination. The lace was see through and exposed your silk bra and panties set. Your hair was down and you wore a pair of black Louboutins.

“You might as well wear nothing, it is what’s wrong. You can see straight through it.” Kyungsoo said as the rest entered Junmyeon’s room. They all looked at you amazed but not letting anyone else see you like that.

“The only reason you’re bringing me to the dinner is to brag about fucking me. Might as well show off your trophy whore.” you tease in a not so playful tone. They were bringing you to brag but not only that. You knew that but still left the part out about you being extremely valuable to be so close to. Suddenly Minseok came up to you and harshly grabbed your chin to look up at him.

“Princess we do not tolerate this. Don’t be a naive brat right now. You know we don’t need to brag about fucking you. That isn’t anyone’s business. If you want to be treated like a whore, I’ll do that later. But right now we have business to attend to so change.” he hisses. You stand there incredibly turned on at his dark behavior. You loved when they snapped at you for talking back at them. You nodded weakly before peeling the dress and your bra off and taking the other dress on the bed. A champagne colored, tight, silk, spaghetti strap dress.

“Your purpose in this meeting is to make us look good. How many people can say they have close ties with you? Not including us, there are only 2. You are the most important woman across many cities.” Yixing says before slipping on you a pair of sparkly heels.

“And to be quite frank sweetheart, we’ve heard the talk about you being with us. And we’re not really happy with it. It’s all disgusting the way they think you’re just our fuck toy. Tonight we let you show them who you are.” he says the last part smirking looking around at the others.

“What are you talking about Beakhyun?” you ask standing with your arms crossed squinting at all the scheming men.

“Well we have a little show for you to put on for our guests. They seem to see you incapable of doing your job which is quite unfortunate for them. One of our warehouse men turned out to be a rat and we’re letting you have him. Just to show the gossipers who you are. And make them jealous that you’re all ours.” Jongin said. You got excited at the gesture. They were trying get people back to reality that you were a deadly woman.

“Well at least I still look sexy but I don’t really want to get blood on this dress.” you pout, not really caring about the dress. You just wanted a kill.

“Won’t matter when we take it off you later now does it?” Sehun smirked taking your hand to lead you all out. This dinner was going to really be for you and it made you blush.

»»————-　————-««

𝒯𝓊𝑒𝓈𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 10𝓅𝓂

The dinner went well for the most part. Upon arrival everyone couldn’t stop thier staring and whispering as they watched you be surrounded and cherished by Korea’s very own EXO. During dinner and the statistics presentations, that you didn’t pay attention to, you made sure to tease the boys in front of thier guest. Casual kisses on their necks or a not so subtle grind of your hips on thier laps. It was fun seeing them enjoy making thier guests simultaneously horny and uncomfortable. Now it was time for you to shine.

“Princess come sit.” Junmyeon said patting his lap. He sat in a chair infront of everyone on a raised platform. You went to sit and gave him a heated kiss as his hands gripped your ass. All the guest were extremely quiet as you looked at them with slight disgust. Who were they to doubt you when you were 100% sure you’d have them kissing your feet. You heard doors open and a man was brought in by the guards. You assumed this was the rat. You looked at Junmyeon and he smiled at you and whispered ‘go get em tiger’ before slapping your ass. Ring the alarm bitches!

You stepped down from the platform and went to the kneeling man. You grabbed his hair and pulled it back to raise his eyesight to your hip level. You brought your leg up to rest on his shoulder giving him a view of your panties. He licked his lips and gulped staring at your core in a trance.

“You look starved.” you say as you twirl his brown locks in your fingers; a known weakness among most men. He nodded as his eyes trailed up your body to land at you lips then eyes. Poor bastard was already under your spell and you didn’t even start yet.

“What is it that you want filth?” you question as you pull your dress up your leg a bit more.

“You angel.” he said as he turned to kiss your thigh resting on his shoulder. Wrong move asshole. You lift your leg off of him before grabbing his chin to look up at you.

“Don’t you know better than that? I’m no angel. And I’m nothing that would ever belong to you. You do not get to touch me filth. You’ve dug your grave a lot earlier than I was planning. Too bad our time was cut short.” you spit out in a laughing tone. You were as close to the Joker when you were like this. One wrong move and your whole demeanor changed making you blood thirsty.

“I-I’m sorry! Please don’t do this! I didn’t mean it!” he calls as you walk away grabbing Chanyeol’s gun from his hand. You guess they figured you wouldn’t kill him so they were ready to do it themselves. But one thing you didn’t tolerate was filth like him tainting your skin or calling you names they didn’t deserve.

“I didn’t mean it! Please!” you mock him waving the gun around pretending to shiver. “Please continue. I love when filth beg for thier lives right after they’ve deliberately put it on the line. Come on filth, give it to me.” you smile frantically at him.

“You crazy bitch! You use your body to seduce me then go bat shit when I respond! You think you’re so special because you fuck men into telling you things! You think you’re special because they call you princess! You’re nothing but a slut with a tight cunt. Maybe if I got to you earlier I’d have had my cock so deep insi-.” He doesn’t get to finish before you put a bullet between his eyes. The room is silent for a minute. You pout and shrug at the body in front of you before straightening out your dress.

“Now that that’s done I’d like to get something clear. I am the Red Siren. You do not disrespect me and that’s final. Anyone else want to pretend I don’t fucking run these cities and the filthy cocks in them?” you question looking around the silent room. When no one objects you smile sweetly and turn around to face the smirking men behind you. They seemed to really enjoy your little show which usually scares everyone off. Seeing you flip like that is terrifying enough to keep the streets clean.

“Well now that that’s over and you all get the message we’ll be on our way. Oh and when you all go and run your mouths about tonight make sure you get the fucking facts straight. Or were coming for all of you. Maybe she’ll do it herself.” Junmyeon says as he pulls you towards the doors. You all leave in a giddy mood. But you were now extremely horny and needed someone to fuck your frustrations out on, or for them to fuck you hard.

»»————-　————-««

You got to the mansion and went straight to Kyungsoo’s room as he followed you. He knew what you needed and was one of the best people to do it. The minute you stepped in he grabbed you and ripped your dress off your body. He attacked your lips as his hands stripped off your bra and underwear. You hastily pulled his suit jacket off before ripping his shirt open causing the buttons to pop off everywhere.

“Bed. Now.” he growled leaving a harsh slap on your ass. You let out a chocked moan before smiling and walking to the bed swaying your hips and kicking off your heels. You lay on the bed on your stomach and watched him take his time stripping his pants and boxers off staring at you. You bit your lip and arched your back pushing your ass in the air swaying a bit teasing him, wanting him. He comes on to the bed and slaps your ass hard grunting at your screams and moans.

“You like that slut? You were a bad girl today. You don’t know how much you turned us on with your little show back there. Being a nasty brat made me want to fuck you until you were screaming, begging me to stop like the little slut you are.” he said in his dark deep tone while delivering slaps between sentences leaving you with watery eyes. You were screaming and whimpering but loved the pain and his degrading words.

“Please daddy! Fuck your bad girl!” you cry out as your core aches more and more for him to do something. He pulls you up by your hair so your back is flush against his chest making you wince from the pain in your scalp. He takes his hand and wraps it around your neck while the other goes to smack your pussy making you whimper. He does it again and again while whispering deeply in your ear filthy words. You shake with every harsh slap on your core and choke on your moans from his hand around your neck.

Suddenly the door opens and an angry Minseok comes in. He observes your shaking weak appearance and smirks making you shiver in Kyungsoo’s hands. He walks over stripping himself before standing infront of the bed staring darkly at you. He’s slowly stroking his hard cock while watch Kyungsoo trail his fingers between your wet folds. The sight of him making you rub your ass on Kyungsoo’s cock poking you making him smack your pussy again.

“Say hi to daddy Minseok slut.” he whispers in your ear releasing your throat a bit so you can speak.

“Hi daddy.” you whisper weakly sounding so small, involuntarily grinding your hips again. Kyungsoo tightens his grip on your neck again before pinching your clit. You scream out as best you could and tried to close your legs but he just pinched harder.

“Hi baby girl. You look so fucked out and we haven’t even started yet.” Minseok says as he comes to stand on the bed holding his cock infront of your face. Kyungsoo starts fingering you fast and hard; you start to lose focus as your eyes roll back. You come back when Minseok slaps your face and grips your chin opening your mouth. You look up at him with innocent tear filled eyes.

“No puppy eyes are going to work right now slut. Take my cock in your throat before I do it myself.” he snaps. You don’t hesitate to take him into your mouth. But he’s not satisfied with the rest of his cock not being devoured by your mouth.

“I know you can do better than that. Do you want me tie you up and not let you cum? Suck my fucking cock.” he spits out making you whimper with him still in your mouth. You don’t have time to do it yourself before he whispers under his breath ‘fuck it, I’ll do it myself slut’. He thrusts his cock deep into your throat making you choke and tears run down your cheeks. He stays there for a bit as you choke constantly making spit fall from your mouth. He pulls out completely with his cock covered in your spit with a string of saliva connecting you two. He thrusts back in before you can catch your breath.

Kyungsoo stops fingering you and is rubbing the tip of his cock along your wet folds. Once Minseok is fully in your throat again he thrusts up hard into you, filling you way too fast. You choke again and straighten up to push him out again as you scream from the intrusion. You’re in trouble now.

“Don’t you fucking dare move! If I put my fucking cock in you, you stay there and take it slut.” Kyungsoo barks as he slaps your ass hard. You scream again as Minseok fucks your mouth slow. Kyungsoo grabs your hips tight and goes to slam back into you harder this time. He slaps your ass again and starts pounding into you relentlessly. You’re on fire. Your ass is stinging, can’t breath and keep chocking, your pussy is full behyond what you can take and is being fucked hard. You’re crying but it feels so good you take it all. They are fucking your holes with anger and you can feel yourself getting close.

“Our little slut is getting really fucking tight. You better not cum until I say so.” Kyungsoo says as he starts to rub your clit harshly. If he didn’t want you to cum, he sure wasn’t making it easier now. You try to focus on making them cum so you can feel release. You tighten around Kyungsoo as much as you can. You moan on Minseok’s cock as you hollow your cheeks swallowing with him in your throat. You know it’s working when they both groan loudly and their hips get erratic. A couple more thrusts from both of them and they cum filling up both your holes. You cum as Kyungsoo whispers ‘now’ in your ear as he tries to keep up his thrusts inside you and his fingers. You moan loudly around Minseok’s cock in your mouth making his cum leak onto the bed. They both pull out of you and watch as thier cum leaks from you.

“Swallow princess. You’ve already wasted so much.” Minseok says holding your face up. You swallow and open your mouth to show him.

“Good girl. Come here.” He lays down on the bed and pulls you into his chest. He feels you sniffling and shaking and pulls your face up to look at him. He wipes your tear stained face and kisses you. Kyungsoo comes to clean you up before kissing up your back. He pulls the covers over all of you and tucks you firmly between them.

“You know we love you right?” Minseok questioned as he gently kissed your neck. You nod weakly since your throat was now hurting.

“No matter how rough we are with you, you’re still our baby and we love you. Don’t forget that.” Kyungsoo said playing in your hair. You nod again feeling yourself falling asleep. They bother kept kissing you and playing with your hair whispering ‘I love you’ until you fell asleep.

You needed that. That good fuck that made you feel weak and powerless. You also needed the reassurance and soft touches afterwards. This was the best part of having them. They loved you and knew exactly what you needed and when you needed it. They were more than just a good fuck, they were the men who loved you enough to know you inside and out.

(Here it is doves, the next part. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feedback is always appreciated and thank you for all of the support! 💕

xoxo golden🕊)

[imagines-forthe-soul]

Wait Muscular doesn't have an alphabet nsfw?? what shame I was hoping to know how big he is.

say no more

________________

Takehito Himura:

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

After what? Is that a spice? He hasn’t had it before and he doesn’t want it either. Honestly though, he isn’t that great at aftercare. After he’s been satisfied, all that’s on his mind now is a nice bath and some sleep.If you’re able to move and join in him the bath, then good for you. If you can’t, then that’s just tough titty for you, sweets. 

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

He likes his hands an awful lot. With their size, he can kill people easily with them and it makes him pretty smug. He also really likes that he can hold you down pretty easily with them or grab lots of your ass or tits.

On you, he likes all of you. You’re his personal little sex toy (although he actually does value in a sick yet affectionate sort of way). If you’re on the chubbier side, your body is going to drive him crazy because there is so much more of you for him to bite and hold. 

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

This man will cum anywhere he wants to. You’re his, so that means he can do what he wants with you. It all just depends on his mood. If he is in a territorial kind of mood and is putting you in your place, he will cum on your face and inside you to mark you as his own. If he’s being lazy and just in it for the pleasure at hand, then he’ll cum carelessly anywhere on or inside you, sometimes he will even let you decide if you’re lucky and are in his good books. 

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

Secret? Nope, none here. Muscular is an open book, seams completely gone and letters in bold. He does not hold back at all when it comes to sex and lays everything on the table. If you’re lucky, he’ll tell you exactly what he wants to try out, if you’re not lucky, he’ll just spring something new onto you without any warning in the middle of sex and expect you to go along with it. 

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

Do I really need to answer this one? If you think that Muscular doesn’t have some sort of experience then you’re completely kidding yourself. He’s tried everything in the Sex for Dummies book editions 1-10 at least once in his life. 

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

He loves doggy style. In this position he can control you perfectly, moving you how he wants, holding your hands behind your back or pushing you into the sheets. He also loves how deep he can get inside you in this position and how easily he can slap that nice ass of your’s.

He will also let you ride him when he is feeling a bit lazy, but that doesn’t happen very often.

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

Goofy isn’t the exact word I would use… he’s more of a playful jerk when it comes to sex and he does this thing where he pisses you off but it makes you laugh because he’s just so impossible and stupid and you can’t help but love it. Once when you told him that you didn’t want to have sex due to a yeast infection, he simply told you: “I’m going to turn that yeast infection into cake batter when I’m done with you” And you physically couldn’t stop him from taking your clothes off from how hard you were laughing. Not that you could stop him anyways. 

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

He’s pretty hairy. He doesn’t really take care of himself much and just lets his hair grow as it pleases. If you have a problem with it, keep it to yourself because he doesn’t want to hear it. 

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

Um… He has his moments I guess. When he isn’t fucking your brains out and actually lets you ride him how you want, there are times when he looks up at you and feels… content? Like, in moments like these, he sees you so differently, “softly sexy’ he likes to call you, but you know he really means beautiful. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He does so pretty often. He’s a horny guy and likes to get off with or without you. He will usually do it in front of you to be disrespectful, teasing, or just because he is too lazy to move somewhere else.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Biting

Choking 

Name calling

Orgasm denial 

Spanking 

Foursomes 

Too many others to even list

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Simple: Anywhere

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

When you mouth off to him, boy does that excite him. Just looking down at you, being all bold and thinking that you have some authority over him and can tell him what to do drives him wild. The way your face looks, all angry and fed up with him, it just makes him want to pin you down and fuck that look right off your face. 

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

If you dare say any other man’s name or compare him to someone else, you’ll face the consequences and trust me when I say they aren’t pretty.

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

He likes getting head a lot more than giving it. He’s selfish that way. He honestly expects to come home and have you on your knees waiting for him to stuff his cock down your throat. But that rarely ever happens. He just loves the feeling of being so in control over you, your mouth around his cock and sucking him off so he can feel good. 

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

Listen, Muscular is all about hard, fast fucking that last a painfully long time. There is hardly ever a time when Muscular isn’t fucking you silly in anyway he wants, wherever he wants. He just wants some pleasure and will get it from you one way or another. However, there are times when he is feeling lazy and will let you ride him at your own pace as long as he gets off and you do all the work.

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

He’s all for quickies, but they never stay as quickies. As soon as he gets even a taste of you, he is going to want more of you until he’s satisfied, and that’s not until after a few rounds of mind-numbing sex.

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

Risk is his legal middle name. Risk and Motherfucker. 

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

He has too much stamina. He can last a pretty long time, but it all depends on his mood. If he’s in a “I need to fuck you until I see blood” kind of mood, then you’re going to be all his for a good 5-6 hours. If he’s lazy and just wants to get off, he’ll go for about an hour at most. 

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

Why would you need toys when you have all of him to work with?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a major tease. He will tease you any chance he gets just to hear you beg and cry for him to give you what you want. He is an expert tease but only because he’s selfish and rude and gets off on you getting so frustrated. However, if you ever tease him, things can go 2 ways; 1) He makes you stop and he fucks you crazy or 2) He pretends to not care that you are teasing him, practically ignoring you until you give up and he fucks you crazy.

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

He isn’t exactly loud but he isn’t quiet either. He’s all deep moans and groans, some occasional dirty talk and name calling, but that’s it. If you want to hear him moan, you have a better chance hearing one when he’s eating rather than when it comes to having sex. He wants to be the one to make you moan, not the other way around. 

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

He always keeps a pair of your panties or a bra with him and isn’t afraid if anyone finds out about it. He likes your scent and wants to smell you whenever he can, so keeping either of those two things on him when he’s out is good enough for him. He’ll just whip your used gitch out during a meeting, take a large whiff of it, and then stuff it back in his pants pocket like its normal.

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

Muscular is a big guy, so you know his cock has to match the rest of him. It’s a little above average in length, but he is very thick from base to head. Fitting him inside you hurts a whole bunch at the start, even after he has broken you in a few times, it still hurts to have him enter you. He has a few noticeable veins that decorate his cock too. It has a slight curve upwards and he is uncircumcised. 

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

He has a very high sex drive. He is ready to have sex at any given moment, no matter if you’re in the mood or not. When he needs to get off, there is no stopping him from meeting his release one way or another. It’s always safer to just go along with it than fight him, for when you fight, you’ll end up with lots of bruises and cuts because Muscular will get fed up with your protests and will silence you himself. 

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

He goes to sleep as soon as he’s cleaned himself up, if even wants to do so. It never takes him too long to fall asleep after some nasty sex, so chances are that if he hasn’t taken a bath or shower or forced you to get up and make him something to eat, he’s already in his wild gorilla sex induced slumber. 

Wanna see some other shit I’ve written?

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 3

Lily of the Lamplight by George deValier

Gilbert sat leaning against the front wall of a tiny building in the little town square, watching with half-hearted interest as a nearby fight between a sailor and a former SS officer escalated. Gilbert was rooting silently for the sailor. Roderich sat in the doorway beside him, gripping the wooden step tightly, his knuckles white. They had not yet been told their sleeping arrangements, their eating arrangements, any of it. There was nothing to do but sit and wait. No wonder men were starting to fight - nothing like a good brawl to break up the boredom. Any other time and Gilbert would have happily joined in. These two men were hopeless, their swings wild and sloppy and unfocused. Gilbert could smash them easily. He wondered what the prince would say of it, however, and forced himself to stay put.

The heat and smell of the nearby small fire wafted over Gilbert's senses. Oxenstierna had probably started it for the warmth, or perhaps simply because it was something to do. True, it was ridiculously freezing for this alleged summer, but surely the Swede should be used to the cold. He was Swedish, after all. The Swedish 'Lion of the North.' Gilbert wondered what the hell the title was supposed to mean. Why did Oxenstierna have a title? Surely Gilbert deserved a title. The 'Eagle of the East' or something. Gilbert grumbled softly to himself. He wanted a title, damn it. The blasted 'Lion of the North' sat on the ground by the fire, polishing his rifle, ignoring Gilbert's suspicious glances. The Polish soldier, Łukasiewicz, had come closer for the heat, and filed his nails silently as he sat on a small crate close to the fire. In all of three years, he was the first soldier Gilbert had ever seen filing his nails.

Gilbert picked up a twig from the dirty ground and threw it in the fire. Only the slightest spark of flame greeted his efforts. "What's the deal with the captain, do you think?" he asked no one in particular. The silence was starting to annoy him. Gilbert did not particularly like silence. Silence was suspicious. "He's no German career soldier."

"I heard some of the men talking about it." The Pole spoke softly, with a strong accent, and did not look up from his nails as he spoke. He wore the grey uniform of the SS, but he looked like no SS Gilbert had ever seen. He flicked back his shoulder-length blonde hair and shrugged. "Apparently he's, you know, like a Swiss mercenary. Or something."

"Crazy bastard," muttered Gilbert. It made sense, however. Who the hell else would run a unit like this?

"Swiss, did you say?" asked Roderich, his voice pensive. Gilbert almost startled at the words: it was the first Roderich had spoken since the line up. Basically the pretty Austrian had stayed close to Gilbert, darted his big violet eyes around nervously, and glared at everything and everyone like they were something nasty on the bottom of his shoe.

"Yeah," answered Feliks vaguely. He blew on his nails.

"Zwingli…" Roderich furrowed his brow, like he was trying to remember something. Gilbert peered at him curiously. He hoped the guy wasn't going insane already. He hadn't even seen combat yet.

"Problem?"

Roderich glanced up at Gilbert quickly, as though he'd forgotten he was there. He pushed his hair behind his ear and adjusted his glasses. "No, it's… it's nothing."

Gilbert shrugged and turned his attention back to the nearby fight. The sailor and the SS officer's shoddy punches were actually starting to connect now. "Money's on the sailor," Gilbert muttered softly. To his surprise, Oxenstierna responded.

"Pack'f cigarettes on th'SS."

Gilbert nodded, somewhat impressed. Maybe this Nordic lion wasn't quite as boring as he seemed. "You are on, my leonine friend."

Oxenstierna did not look up. "Done."

"Done." Gilbert smiled, rather pleased with himself. He needed some cigarettes. Roderich barely seemed to have noticed the exchange, instead eyeing the fighting soldiers warily. Gilbert, however, was becoming a little more worried about why this huge, blank-faced Swedish bastard he'd just placed a bet with kept polishing his rifle right beside them. "Oxenstierna," he barked loudly. "Why the hell do you still have your rifle?"

"No one took't off me."

"Huh." Gilbert wasn't actually surprised no one had taken the rifle off the man. Oxenstierna was one of the biggest men Gilbert had ever seen, next to his freak of a brother. Still, Gilbert didn't have a rifle, this bastard did, and that pissed Gilbert off. "Well, it's not regulation issue. They'll probably take it off you tomorrow."

"They won't."

"They won't?"

The Swede looked up slowly, his stern eyes glinting in the firelight. "No one's takin't off me."

Gilbert was willing to bet no one would try, if the Swede looked at them like that. He tried to inspect the gun from the short distance. It looked to Gilbert like a standard sniper rifle, something like the Mosins used by the Russians. Certainly nothing special. Gilbert could just make out the photograph attached to its side, of a young, smiling blond man in a Finnish army jacket. He nodded towards it. "Your wife, huh." Oxenstierna nodded. "Right, right." Gilbert drummed his fingers together and wondered just what it would take to break this Swede's composure. The Swede was bigger than him; the Swede was armed and Gilbert was not. Gilbert carefully evaluated the risk, then shrugged to himself. Screw it, he was bored. "Well done, sir. Was it a big wedding?" Gilbert felt Roderich's warning eyes on him immediately.

Oxenstierna did not react. Roderich spoke softly. "Gilbert, what…"

Gilbert ignored him. This was one way to get a little excitement going. He leant forward, smirked, and lowered his voice. "Did the bride wear white?"

Roderich drew in a sharp breath. "Gilbert, I really don't think…"

"I'm sure the parents were very proud." Roderich started to hiss another warning, so Gilbert turned, grinned, and nodded towards him cheerfully. "This here is my wife, actually, didn't you know?"

Roderich's perfectly shaped face turned white. He looked like he was about to choke. "I beg your pardon?"

Gilbert snickered. Oh, this could be fun. "The honeymoon was lovely, wasn't it darling? Show the nice man your wedding ring." Gilbert was actually pretty damn surprised Roderich had a wedding ring, considering he didn't even have a real marriage.

Roderich breathed out angrily and covered the thin gold band with a delicate hand. "This ring is from my actual wedding. With my wife. My real wife."

That got the Swede to react. His hand froze on the rifle and his shoulders straightened. His voice was no less threatening for its quietness. "Ye sayin' m'wife's not real?"

Gilbert turned an affronted look on Roderich. "Yeah, Roddy, you sayin' his wife's not real?"

"No, I just… what… what did you call me?" Roderich obviously did not know how to talk like this. Gilbert mentally filed the offending name away for future use. Unfortunately, the nail-filing Pole piped up before the situation could get really interesting.

"I'm sort of married too, you know. Except I think I'm the wife."

Gilbert snorted softly. That much was painfully obvious. "Well, well. Where have all the bachelors gone? But hubby's gone home to Lithuania, didn't you say?"

Łukasiewicz looked down, suddenly distraught. He looked like a kicked puppy. "Yes. And he, like, joined the Russian army." He shrugged. "Or something," he finished quietly.

"No shit? You do realise that by now he's probably…" Gilbert broke off as Roderich thumped him heavily on the shoulder. A sharp pain burst down his arm.

"Ow! Now Roddy, darling, that was uncalled for." Gilbert glared and rubbed his shoulder brusquely. Damn, the delicate musician hit harder than expected. The corner of Roderich's lip lifted, disgusted.

"Probably what?" Łukasiewicz bit his lip and drew his eyebrows together. "Liet's probably what?"

Gilbert had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. Łukasiewicz would surely have just as hard a time out here as pretty boy Roderich. Still, strangely, Gilbert couldn't quite bring himself to tell the little Pole that, as a Lithuanian in the Red Army, his beloved 'Liet' was probably long dead. "Probably somewhere nearby," he finished instead. "Hey, you might even run into him! Except then you'd be trying to kill each other, and…"

"Feliks, wasn't it?" Roderich interrupted loudly. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe I can pronounce your surname correctly."

Feliks giggled softly and waved a hand. "Everyone says that, you know. It's really not that hard. Silly Germans."

"Austrian, actually." Roderich smiled, and Gilbert's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange. Why was the snooty prince being friendly to this silly little Pole of all people? Gilbert felt surprisingly insulted. "My name is Roderich Héderváry, but you can call me Roderich if you like."

"Roderich," muttered Gilbert under his breath. "Never said I could call you Roderich..."

Feliks took one very deep breath, tilted his head to the side, and absently bit a perfectly filed thumbnail. He breathed out slowly as he regarded Roderich closely. A strange silence fell over the small group. Finally, Feliks' eyes widened and brightened. Then he nodded decisively. "I'm going to call you Fred."

Gilbert snickered a little and Roderich took a moment to respond. "Oh. Why?"

"Because you're a musician. Captain Karabin said you were a composer." Gilbert and Roderich glanced at each other briefly. Karabin? Feliks did not explain. "My favourite composer is Frédéric Chopin. Because he's Polish, did you know? Liet told me that." Feliks smiled gently. "Liet knows lots of things like that."

Roderich seemed to melt back into the doorway at the words. He closed his deep violet eyes, then let out a long, heavy breath as he opened them slowly. His saddened expression almost twisted in pain. "Chopin is my favourite, also." Suddenly he did not look proud, or stuck-up, or pompous. Instead he looked beautiful, and sad, and Gilbert felt strangely uncomfortable. Gilbert forced himself to look away and hummed thoughtfully.

"Chopin, Chopin. Is he the one who went deaf?" Gilbert looked back at Roderich's horrified gasp.

The Austrian's nostrils flared and his lip curled. He looked genuinely disgusted. "What sort of education did you have, barbarian?"

And just like that, the prince was pompous once again. Gilbert gave a snort of defiant, contemptuous laughter. "Barbarian?" Exactly something a prissy aristocrat would say. "I was educated in a cave," Gilbert spat sarcastically, "And taught to kill wild animals with a club."

"Gosh," interrupted Feliks, staring wide-eyed and open mouthed. "They teach you really strange things in Germany." Roderich's angry response died on his lips. His amused expression mirrored Gilbert's own. Feliks spoke airily and amiably. "All I learnt at school was times-tables and how to spell and where to hide from the nuns. But Beilschmidt, you said you were Prussian, didn't you?"

"That's exactly right, my Polish friend." Gilbert puffed out his chest. "I come from a long, proud military line that stretches all the way back to the great Knights of the Teutonic Order." Gilbert smiled smugly and ignored Roderich's quiet scoff. Feliks, however, looked intensely impressed.

"Wow! A Teutonic Knight! I'm going to call you Sir Gil."

"Hmm." Gilbert raised his head thoughtfully. He liked the sound of that. As far as a title went, it was pretty damn impressive. "Yeah… fuck yeah! Sir Gil! What do you think, Roddy, suits me, doesn't it?"

Roderich peered at Gilbert dubiously. His violet eyes danced with derision. "Sir? Please. You've no chance of obtaining the title through either knighthood or promotion."

Feliks giggled. Gilbert did not have time to shoot back a scathing response before two men fell abruptly onto the ground before them, grunting and swearing, limbs flying in wild kicks and punches that sent clouds of dust into the air. Gilbert had completely forgotten about the brawling sailor and the officer. He swore loudly as Roderich shrunk back against the wooden door. Feliks shrieked and fell backwards off his crate. The forgotten brawlers rolled dangerously close to the fire, heedless of the flames or the four surprised men watching.

Gilbert shouted to be heard. "Christ, boys, as much as I respect a man's right to fight, there are ladies present! No offence, Feliks."

Roderich's anger seemed to override his alarm over the brawling men. He turned to Gilbert, the derision in his violet eyes turned to fury. "Gilbert, I hope you realise that you are the only one who thinks you are at all amusing!"

"That's not true, the Swede here thinks I'm hilarious, don't you, Oxenstierna?"

"Oh, will you stop saying such ridiculous things!" shouted Roderich, his voice louder than Gilbert had yet heard it. Suddenly one of the men, the sailor, kicked too close to the fire and sent a wave of sparks in Feliks' direction. Feliks screamed again and covered his head. Strangely furious, Gilbert went to grab the man by the wrist, but was stopped in his tracks when the blasting crack of a gunshot echoed through the tiny square. Roderich gasped, Gilbert fell back instinctively against the wall, and the brawling men broke apart immediately.

Oxenstierna held his rifle pointed in the air, staring at the two men with that still, expressionless, terrifying glare. But when he spoke his voice was no more than a quiet mumble. "Y'should apologise fer that."

Feliks let out a relieved breath and looked at the Swede with wide, gleaming eyes. He smiled brightly. "I'm going to stick with you, Kociak."

Gilbert did not stop to ponder Feliks' odd words. He got the feeling he would have to get used to them. As the men scrambled to their feet, their eyes fixed on the Swede's rifle, Gilbert saw an opportunity. "Damn straight you should apologise," he said jovially, stretching out his legs and leaning leisurely back against the wall. Roderich stayed still and quiet beside him. Gilbert breathed evenly to slow his jumpy heart rate. "Interrupting our conversation, almost destroying our fire. Kicking sparks at my friend here." Gilbert nodded at Feliks. "I think you owe us a damn apology."

The SS soldier snorted derisively. His blonde hair was far too long for the military - perhaps he had been AWOL long enough to let it grow. Gilbert squinted to make out the name on his jacket: from the small distance, he could just vaguely read the word Saxon. Saxon glared down at Gilbert in disgust. "I don't owe you shit."

Gilbert smirked faintly. He was hoping for an answer like that. "Is that right? Oxenstierna?" Gilbert did not turn his head as he said it, but he hoped the Swede would understand what he was asking. There was a loud, unmistakable click as Oxenstierna pulled his rifle bolt back. Gilbert almost laughed - the Swede understood. He was liking Oxenstierna more and more. Gilbert grinned at the uncertain soldiers. "I think a pack of cigarettes will suffice."

The sailor looked about to respond, but Saxon drew himself up confrontationally. "Who says I got any cigarettes?"

"Oxenstierna?" asked Gilbert again. This time the Swede fired the rifle. Roderich jumped and put his hand to his chest as the deafening sound tore again through the silent afternoon. Saxon snarled in anger, but the sailor's nerves seemed to get the better of him.

"Okay, okay, here." The sailor spoke placatingly as he reached into his front pocket, pulled out a distinctive red packet of Aviatik cigarettes, and tossed them to Gilbert.

"Wonderful!" said Gilbert, catching the cigarettes delightedly. The packet was almost full. Enough to spilt evenly with the Swede, seeing as neither of them had really won their earlier bet. He waved a hand dismissively. "You two can bugger off now."

The two men dusted themselves off and stalked away, throwing back dark looks as they went. Saxon stopped to glare at Oxenstierna and growl, "That rifle's not standard issue. And don't forget, we'll all be armed tomorrow."

"Yeah, just try and take it from him," laughed Gilbert. Actually, he would like to see that. Gilbert hated the SS. Filthy, mind-broken, morally bankrupt idiots living high on power. And this Saxon looked like the real deal, not just a misguided fool like poor Feliks. Gilbert sneered at him disdainfully. "And don't you forget, despite your officer's stripes, you're just a lowly private now."

"Well done, Gilbert," said Roderich quietly, once the men had crossed the square. He was rather pale, but looked more angry than anything. "So it is your mission in life to make enemies, is it?"

"Nah, but I'm pretty damn good at it." Gilbert pulled half the cigarettes from the packet. Aviatik was a good brand. Not quite as good as the American's Lucky Strikes, but certainly nothing to sneer at. "You right there, Feliks?"

"Yes," said Feliks breathlessly. The Pole sat again on his crate, staring at Gilbert with the same wide-eyed admiration he'd held for Oxenstierna earlier. "I'm gonna stick with you as well, Sir Gil!"

Gilbert placed the cigarettes carefully in an inner pocket of his jacket. "Not a bad idea, my friend. I have a talent for surviving. Do you smoke?"

"No, it makes Liet's eyes water."

"What the hell does that matter n – ow!" Gilbert winced as Roderich once again thumped him in the arm. "Okay, okay. I won't even bother asking if you smoke, Roddy. Oxenstierna." Gilbert nodded towards him. "I can see we'll get along just fine. And here." Gilbert tossed the half-full packet to the Swede, who caught it easily. "Neither of the bastards won."

Oxenstierna nodded, pushed the cigarettes into his front pocket, and turned his attention back to cleaning the end of the rifle over his knees. For the first time, Gilbert noticed that the Swede was wearing a battered iron band on his ring finger. He was surprisingly moved at the sight. It was not an emotion he was used to. Perhaps Oxenstierna's 'marriage' meant more to the Swede than Gilbert had bothered to consider. That cheap, tarnished little ring obviously meant more than the gleaming, undoubtedly expensive gold on Roderich's finger.

"Everyone's, like, looking at us now, you know."

The words broke Gilbert from his reverie. He glanced promptly around the square. Feliks was right. Small pockets of prisoners stared in their direction, speaking amongst themselves. A group of military guards eyed them suspiciously from a nearby doorway. Gilbert could even see his friend Saxon from the fight muttering darkly with old Sergeant Hesse from the transport truck. He laughed softly. It was a good thing to be feared out here. Gilbert's entire motivation, from the moment he and Roderich stepped onto that truck, was to make it abundantly clear he was not to be messed with. It looked like the message was sinking in. "I wouldn't worry about it, Feliks. They're all scared of me, that's all."

Gilbert placed a cigarette between his lips, patted his pockets, then realised he did not have a light. "Shit." Just as he was fumbling around for a twig to place in the fire, a burning light appeared before him. The Swiss captain, Zwingli, stared down with an outstretched match and a blank expression. Gilbert grinned widely. "Thanks, Captain!" He leant forward, lit the cigarette, and sucked the smoke in desperately. It had been far too long since he had last breathed that delicious burn into his lungs.

"For the so-called Lion of the North, I thought you'd have a louder roar." Gilbert glanced up again, confused by the words, but Zwingli's eyes were focused on Oxenstierna. The Swede just gave an offhanded shrug. Zwingli folded his arms and nodded distinctly at Oxenstierna's gun. "Give me one reason I shouldn't take that rifle off you, soldier."

Oxenstierna paused, took a deep breath, then met Zwingli's eyes with a look that sent a shudder down Gilbert's spine. "'t's killed a lot'f Russians. Sir."

Zwingli narrowed his eyes, then gave a brief, upward nod. "Good reason. Mosin-Nagant M28-30, isn't it?" Oxenstierna nodded, and Zwingli's gaze fell on the photograph. "I believe those are quite popular among Finnish snipers. But snipers don't let go of their rifles easily." Oxenstierna nodded again, slower this time. "It's a good gun. You keep killing Russians with it, rather than threatening my men, and I'll have no reason to take it off you. But no more wasting bullets – those things aren't free. Now." Zwingli pointed at Gilbert. "You. Prussian."

"Yeah? Sir?" Gilbert blinked the surprise from his eyes and took a draw on his cigarette. What the hell was with this captain? Any other officer would have taken that rifle in a heartbeat after an incident like that. Zwingli barely seemed to care.

"How long you been out here?"

"Russia, a year sir. Been fighting through Europe since the start."

"Hm. Four years." Zwingli's eyes focused on the medals adorning Gilbert's jacket. "You look like you can handle yourself. I'm promoting you to corporal." He nodded at the other three men. "This here's your team."

Gilbert paused for a moment, his blood turning hot as it rose to his head. A promotion? Sure, this captain was unlike any he had ever known, but he didn't seem like the type to play games. Gilbert laughed shakily. "Are you serious?"

Zwingli's jaw hardened. He looked quite put out at the insinuation. "Do I look like I'm joking, soldier?"

Gilbert couldn't help looking at Roderich for his reaction. The Austrian looked stunned with disbelief. Gilbert smirked, though he couldn't quite believe it himself. "Three years in this army and not a damn word about promotion. One day in a prison unit and I'm a corporal. I should've got myself arrested years ago, I'd be a major by now!"

"Don't get excited, Prussian. Your competition was an Austrian princess, a retarded Pole, and a Swede with gender identification issues. I'm placing you four at the front, because let's face it…" Zwingli glanced around the square and the glaring soldiers pointedly. "You're not gonna last long anyway. I'm calling you Team Fairy. Any objections?"

"Ooh!" said Feliks brightly. "I like fairies!"

Gilbert could almost feel Roderich's silent incensement. Gilbert just laughed. It wasn't like he hadn't heard worse. He stretched his legs before him, exhaling a lungful of smoke while staring Zwingli stubbornly in the eye. "There wouldn't be any, uh, double meaning behind that name, would there, sir?"

Zwingli's eyebrow twitched, but he remained stone faced. "None at all, Corporal. It's just that I've already named Team Leprechaun and Team Gnome across the square. I've got your orders for tomorrow. You ready?"

Gilbert grinned. "Oh, I'm always ready, Captain."

Zwingli smirked. "I'll remember that, Prussian. Now listen carefully, because I've got a feeling you're the only one here who'll understand this. Besides maybe Oxenstierna, but I haven't figured out if he actually understands German yet. Now. There's a German battalion further up near Kalova village. It's a dirty shithole of absolutely no strategic importance whatsoever. But the Russians want this town, and when the Reds want something, the bastards get it – no matter the cost. Casualties have been heavy on both sides. The Germans have been holding on without reinforcements for weeks now, and they're close to their breaking point." Gilbert pondered quietly on that. How interesting that Zwingli seemed to make a distinction between himself and 'the Germans.' "They've even been putting the rear echelon base stallions into the line, and now that they are down to their last few cooks and clerks, this is where we come into it."

Roderich breathed heavily, his eyes wide and his hands gripping the wooden doorstep. Feliks returned to filing his nails. Oxenstierna gripped his rifle, unmoving, his lips set in a hard line as he stared unblinking at the captain. Zwingli, however, spoke only to Gilbert in that steady, commanding tone. "HQ wants to pull the exhausted unit out of the line, stabilise the front, and create a stronger position further back. But while the newspapers like heroic last stands, the German infantry have a rather different view on the matter. And as we all know…" Zwingli smirked sarcastically, "The mighty Wehrmacht never retreats. So, while our erstwhile comrades in arms relocate to their new position of relative safety, we shall be covering their arses by moving into their old lines around Kalova. Basically, we'll be holding off the Russki's to buy the regulars time to create and fortify their new position. There's only one problem."

"Oh, isn't there always," muttered Gilbert. He was already starting to feel both excited and edgy at the captain's words. Excited, because he hadn't been involved in a mission that required actual intelligent thinking for months. Edgy, because this sounded like a suicide mission.

Zwingli spoke with his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high. His blonde hair hung loosely to his chin. Gilbert really had to wonder at the lack of proper haircuts in this new unit. "Intelligence tells us that an attack is brewing. 'Imminent', I believe the actual word was – and we'll be in the thick of it. Some Russian commander has decreed that this town will fall, so fall it shall. The only question is when. But we will hold that town to the last bullet and the last man if necessary. Your lives are meaningless, forfeit. You were dead the moment you stepped off that truck. Now." Zwingli bounced once on his heels, smiling around at the four men. "Is that understood?"

Gilbert took a very deep breath, rubbed a hand over his eyes, and breathed in the last of his cigarette. Roderich and Feliks were blank-faced, but a quick glance showed that Oxenstierna seemed to have understood Zwingli's words as well as Gilbert. The Swede's face was still set in that cold, detached expression, but his eyes were wide with alarm.

"So, uh…" Gilbert broke off and stubbed his cigarette into the ground. The dirt was cold against his fingers. He'd had orders barked at him a thousand times, but always with the carrot of survival dangling at the end. This time, he was actually expected to die. "What you're telling me, Captain, is that this company of fifty men is going to try and hold a village against an entire Russian battalion?"

"You're a sharp one, Prussian."

Gilbert turned to see Roderich staring at him, wide-eyed and confused. Gilbert forced his lips into a grin, then threw back his head and laughed. "I thought this unit was supposed to be a punishment. Hell, this sounds like fun."

Surprisingly, it was Feliks who stated the obvious. "We'll be killed," he said simply.

"Maybe so, soldier." Zwingli bared his teeth in a wide grin and clutched the pistol at his side, his eyes lighting up with something not quite sane. "But we'll take some Russians with us."

.

"Useless," muttered Gilbert for the fourth time, rifling through the mid-sized ration pack he'd been handed earlier. "Goddamned fucking useless."

Roderich glanced down at his own pack. He was rather afraid of looking through it, if Gilbert's reaction was anything to go by. Oxenstierna's pack sat beside him, ignored. Feliks had tipped his out and was currently inspecting the contents by the illumination of the nearby truck lights and the still flickering fire. "No chocolate," Feliks said finally, disappointment on his face and in his voice. He sat back and threw his hands up, appalled. "How can they give us a ration pack without chocolate?"

"No chocolate, no coffee, no supplemental candy rations." Gilbert sounded disgusted as he continued searching the bag. "But, oh, hey…" Gilbert held up a small green roll and grinned. "Vivil mints."

"Ooh!" Feliks dove back into his small pile of blue tins and brown packages, rummaging in search of the little mint packet.

The moon was high in the sky, the fire still burned, and the four soldiers had not moved in hours. No one came near them, unsurprisingly. Roderich had absolutely no idea how Gilbert had survived for three years with his apparent sheer, bloody-minded determination to infuriate the entire German military. The other soldiers started to filter away to the nominated sleeping quarters in the old town hall, but Gilbert, Feliks and the Swede made no move to follow them. Roderich had no desire to wander off on his own again any time soon, so it looked like he was stuck with the three men for now. In fact, it looked like they would be sticking together from now on, as part of Corporal Beilschmidt's team. Roderich did not know whether to laugh or scream. Being completely honest with himself, however, Roderich had to acknowledge that he felt far safer by Gilbert's side than he had these last few nights alone. He was also quite certain nothing had ever bothered or frightened him quite as much as this realisation.

Roderich looked from the small pile before Feliks to his own ration pack. It was far too small. "This is just for tomorrow though, yes? We'll be given more food after the… the battle, surely?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Don't count on it, Roddy."

Roderich was horrified. "But… but what is this? Tinned meat? Hard bread? How long are we expected to last on this?" Three bemused and faintly derisive stares met his, and Roderich quickly looked away. He tossed the pack disdainfully to the side, embarrassment colouring his cheeks. Just how was he supposed to know how things worked in the army? He was a musician, not a soldier. He was a musician, and this was madness. "Well, it's terribly inefficient, if anything. If the German military wants their soldiers to succeed they should consider providing proper nourishment."

Gilbert let out a snort of laughter, but Oxenstierna spoke up before the German could respond. "Wish they had tea instead'f coffee."

"I just wish they had chocolate," said Feliks, ripping into the green packet of mints he had finally managed to find.

"Good God, I wish they had beer," said Gilbert dreamily. "I'd cut off my right hand for a stein of beer."

Feliks laughed. "I bet you wouldn't."

Gilbert glared at him and straightened up confrontationally. "I bet I would."

Feliks spoke around the mint in his mouth. "Well, that would just be, like, stupid, wouldn't it, because then you'd have to drink with your left hand, and that's totally rude. Don't you Germans know anything?"

Roderich didn't know whether to laugh. A tight bundle of nerves sat uneasily in his stomach, Captain Zwingli's words about the mission tomorrow echoing through his head. The entire time Zwingli had spoken to Gilbert, Roderich could not shake the strange feeling that he had seen the Swiss captain somewhere before. But the ensuing ridiculous conversation of his companions somehow kept his worst fears and anxiety at bay. Roderich was just wondering why that was, when a sudden loud blast echoed through the square, followed by the crackling radio.

…9:55pm and this is Radio Belgrade, signing off, with 'Lili Marlene.' And then the music started.

Underneath the lantern, by the barrack gate, Darling I remember, the way you used to wait…

The village square fell into a deep silence. The very air seemed to stop moving. In the still, eerie peace, Roderich let the music wash over him immediately. It was the same song he had heard the night before. The same marching beat, the same pretty voice. And yet, Roderich still craved the music; still felt himself fall into it. The knot of fear in his stomach loosened, the uneasy anxiety about the morning lessened, and Roderich breathed in the brass and drums and the silence between the beats. His fingers again itched for the touch of a violin, for the relief of a piano. His familiar ache and agony for this beautiful, comforting music overruled all other petty concerns of food and shelter and safety.

And there 'neath that far off lantern light, I'd hold you tight, we'd kiss goodnight, My lily of the lamplight, My own Lili Marlene.

"They played this song last night, also," Roderich finally whispered, to no one in particular. "At the last village."

Gilbert laughed shortly. His deep voice sounded so much louder in the deep still night, with only the marching beats of a wartime propaganda song behind him. "Get used to it. You'll hear this song a lot out here. Radio Belgrade plays it every night, and there's always someone at every base who'll turn the vehicle radios on and blast it through."

Roderich wondered at that. Why this song? There was far better music in popular circulation. Far better songs. So why did the radio play this one? Why did the soldiers try so hard to hear it? "Why?" he asked simply.

It was Feliks who answered. "Well, it's about, like, someone left behind, isn't it, Fred? And everyone out here has left someone behind. Everyone has their own Lili Marlene." Silence fell again. It seemed Feliks could be surprisingly astute beneath that dim outward demeanour. Roderich was surprised to find that he liked Feliks. If he had met him at home, in Vienna, Roderich would have hated him. But out here, where life was unsure and people were uncertain, Roderich like the little Pole. How could he not like someone who filed their nails at an army base? "I used to sing this," Feliks continued softly. "At my cabaret, in Berlin. It was really popular." And then Feliks sang along with the sweet voice pouring from the radio, his voice soft and bright and clear.

"Resting in a billet just behind the line, Even tho' we're parted your lips are close to mine. You wait where that lantern softly gleams, Your sweet face seems to haunt my dreams."

Feliks stared at the fire as he sang, his eyes far away. Oxenstierna's gaze rested on his rifle. Roderich listened, finding Feliks' voice strangely soothing with the music, feeling oddly calm despite this confusing, desperate situation he'd somehow ended up in. It took him a few moments to realise that Gilbert was looking at him. Roderich felt his heart jump to his throat. "What?"

Gilbert's eyes were narrow, his head tilted. "This song. Does it remind you of anything?"

Roderich blinked in confusion. What a strange thing to ask… "I barely know it," he replied. "I'd never really heard it before last night."

Gilbert just nodded, almost reluctantly. "All right. Okay." Roderich wanted to ask why Gilbert would even think to ask that. But he could not help listening to Feliks singing the last of the lyrics, his clear, charming voice slicing through the dark night.

"You wait where that lantern softly gleams, Your sweet face seems to haunt my dreams. My lily of the lamplight, My own Lili Marlene."

Almost the second the song finished, the truck lights switched off and Zwingli's booming voice carried through the square. "Bedtime, children!"

Feliks breathed a sharp, hissing gasp. "Oh, damn."

"Somethin' wrong?"

Roderich glanced at Oxenstierna in surprise. The man had barely spoken a word all night unless spoken to. Feliks looked over at the town hall, then down at his hands as he answered.

"There's, like, a lot of men I don't know in there and I get nervous around people I don't know sometimes and they sort of…" Feliks trailed into a mumble. "…scare me," he finished quietly.

"Well, they're scared'f me." Oxenstierna swung his rifle and pack over his shoulder, drew himself to his feet, and stared down at Feliks. "And ye said ye'd stick with me, right?"

Feliks paused, nodded, then broke into a smile. He scrambled quickly to his feet. "Sure did, Kociak!"

Roderich's eyes met Gilbert's. "Kociak?"

Gilbert shrugged. "No idea, Fred." Roderich had to bite back a laugh. He put his pack over his shoulder, preparing to follow Feliks and Oxenstierna into the hall. He was stopped by Gilbert's hand on his. "Wait."

At the unexpected touch, an immediate shock of heat raced across Roderich's skin, through his veins and into his chest, where his heart started pounding. Roderich snatched his hand away as though he'd been burnt.

"I'm sorry, I…" Gilbert blinked away his stunned expression and almost choked on his apology. He brushed his hair back and scowled. "I was just going to say something before you left."

Roderich breathed deeply, commanding his pulse to stop racing. Why on earth had he reacted like that? "Well, what?" he asked shortly. He took another deep breath. He was jumpy out here, that was all – the stupid German had surprised him.

"Tomorrow," said Gilbert, already looking as though nothing had happened. "You will do everything I tell you, understand?"

Roderich raised his chin indignantly. "I beg your pardon?"

A brief flash of anger crossed Gilbert's face as his eyes flashed. "Do NOT even start that. I am not playing games. If you want to survive tomorrow, you will listen to me. You will do what I tell you, and you will not question me. You have no idea what you are doing on a battlefield. You've never even held a gun, for Christ's sake. Now you can obey my orders, and have a chance. Or you can play the snotty little brat you are, ignore me, and you can die."

Roderich's eyes widened at the words. His pulse raced again, for an entirely different reason. He was infuriated by Gilbert's foul-mannered words, but more that that, he was horrified. He was afraid. And he was so angry about it he could not even respond. Gilbert's eyes softened. In the last of the firelight, their colour was warmer than usual; softer.

"Look. This mission tomorrow is gonna be a bastard. But I haven't survived this long out here for nothing. Just do what I say, yeah?" Gilbert paused briefly. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly kind. "I'll look after you."

Roderich was about to retort that he did not need anyone to look after him, then realised, angrily, that it wasn't quite true. He also realised it was a very strange thing for a man he'd known for little more than a day to say to him. Roderich sighed, dropped his pack, and leant back against the little doorway. There wasn't much point in worrying too much over it, after all. He had tried to ignore it all night, but the truth was still there, painfully lodged in his heart and his head. He would probably die tomorrow. Roderich looked down at his hands, and decided that if ever there was a time to let down his proud guard, this would be it. "So, what do you do?" he asked softly. "You soldiers. The night before... battle, I suppose you'd call it. It feels so strange to just be sitting here, peacefully, when tomorrow we might die."

Gilbert leant back beside him. "But that's everyday, isn't it? And not just in a war zone. You could be sitting safe and sound in your house in Austria and drop dead tomorrow. You could choke on your caviar or something."

Roderich paused. "I never cared for caviar." Gilbert laughed, and Roderich peered at him curiously before continuing. How could Gilbert still seem so untroubled? Roderich had been suppressing an underlying panic all evening. "Well. What you say is true, but... it's more likely I'll die this tomorrow, isn't it?"

Gilbert nodded and hummed agreement. "Oh, it's more likely, absolutely. Apparently, it's almost certain."

"But you don't believe that."

Gilbert winked. "Nothing's certain."

Roderich almost laughed. That was certainly true. It was true, and Gilbert understood it also. What an unexpected realisation. "So... what do you do?"

The wind turned even colder as it blew across the flickering firelight. Gilbert looked at a loss as how to answer the question. He tapped his feet together, tilted his head, breathed out deeply. Then he shrugged. "Some pray."

Roderich raised an eyebrow. "You don't?"

Gilbert looked faintly amused. "No. I don't waste my breath whispering to the empty air."

Roderich had to ask about that. "Empty?"

"Empty." Gilbert repeated the word, soft but firm, drifting on the cold summer wind. "The Germans pray. The Russians pray. The Jews pray. Is it doing any of 'em any good?"

Roderich did not even know. All he knew of belief was long ago memories of rich red cloth and golden candles; of deeply carved brown chairs and late Friday afternoon sunshine through the tall windows of the Stadttempel. But that was when Roderich was a child, back before his parents fled Europe. Back before the Kristallnacht, when prayers to his God were allowed. Roderich did not pray, but he could see why men out here would. Their God was allowed, after all. "Maybe they pray for comfort," he said, grasping for a reason, grasping for meaning. "Maybe it does them good for that reason."

Gilbert scoffed, rolled his eyes up to the dark, endless sky. "You sound like my silly little brother." He shook his head. "Every day I see men die, Roderich. Do you think it makes a difference if the poor bastard prayed the night before? I've survived this war longer than anyone, and I've never asked for a damn bit of help. Not from God, not from anyone. And yet I'm still here, while good God-fearing men fall dead all around me. Praying don't make a bit of difference, little prince."

Roderich peered at Gilbert, intrigued. He still had absolutely no idea what to think of this German. Every single moment with the man gave Roderich something else to consider. "You don't believe in God."

Gilbert shook his head. "I believe in things higher than God."

Roderich let silence fall, and contemplated the words. "Like what?" he asked finally.

"My family. My friends." Gilbert shrugged, and grinned. "Beer. I believe in beer."

Roderich laughed softly. He sighed and stared up into the dark, star-studded sky. "I think all I believe in is music. I wonder if that's enough."

Gilbert leant forward, his warmth spreading to Roderich's shoulder, and spoke surprisingly fervently. "Believe that you'll survive another day, Roderich. And don't just believe in tomorrow. Believe in next week, and next month, and next year. Believe in survival. Believe in joyful survival."

Roderich could not stop his eyes turning again towards the strange, arrogant, confusing man beside him. He still did not know why Gilbert seemed so concerned with him, with his safety. Maybe the man was simply crazy, and did not need a reason. As he gazed intently at the unfathomable German, his white hair and brilliant eyes and intense features, Roderich noticed a faint scar on Gilbert's nose. It must have been broken at some point. "Survival," said Roderich thoughtfully. "Is that what you believe in?"

Gilbert grinned, his bronze eyes glinting, his pale skin turned golden by the dying flames of the flickering fire. "Drink deep. Have fun. Stay alive. It's got me this far." He laughed shortly. "And it's what's gonna get me through."

.

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Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.