#can probs wrap this up here or with the next one? <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[felixsecada]

His smile doesn't fade, though, as he listens to what she wants. A relatively easy promise to make, considering he has his finger on the pulse of manufacturing. "Clean, then." There is more money to be had in not keeping them clean. After all, they're in the business of trying to increase addiction, not maintain it.

But it's a request he can comply with.

He doesn't quite get the appeal of it, either way, but doctors will be doctors - and doctors of the mind are especially more of a different breed. "Your wish.." As they say. He gives a shallow mock bow.

She smiles, equally as sincere. For someone so far from a businesswoman, Anaïs does like the dealing. You're welcome, is what that grin says.

Then— an offer. How unexpected, and thrilling.

"...Keep your drugs clean," she then says, "Mr. Secada. As a psychiatrist, it's all I care about." Alas, Anaïs cares about a whole lot more than just that — but for the purposes of now, yes, that will do.

"A damaged mind is one thing, but a damaged mind beyond understanding is another."

[biteyoubiteme]

take a pic, it'll last longer.

soobin x gn!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! oral (m!rec), filming during oral prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.9k

an: anon ask i couldn’t pass on <3 this is inspired by the tmi soobin spilled about being walked in on half naked taking a selfie lol not proofread sorry feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

The door had been cracked just enough to think it was mistakenly shut and it's not like either of you ever knocked anyway. It wasn't as if the two of you hadn't seen each other naked when living in such close quarters but it was a little shocking to catch him with his phone out while doing it. 

Soobins instant reaction was to cover up, a shocked gasp leaving him like he's just seen a ghost in his peripheral. 

“I'm so sorry!” your hand coming up to block your eyes but you can't help but laugh at the situation. “Are you taking nudes with your shirt still on?” 

“What? No!” 

“Its okay if you are i'm not here to judge,” you peek between your fingers, “but it really does look like you're taking nudes with your shirt still on,” 

“I'm not taking nudes. im not- i wasn't even hard,” 

“Wasn't?” 

It was that slip of a confession that led you two to the position you were in now. Soobin still tried to talk himself out of embarrassment even when you had moved past the initial shock of seeing him stripped down. And maybe if the two of you were normal roommates with normal boundaries you could have gone to bed and spent the next morning in awkward silence. But neither of you ever really ignored the way the two of you felt about each other at least physically. There was more than one occasion when the two of you were bored making out on the couch and found your hands down the others pants. 

This was no different because as soon as you had walked in, cheeks flushed and softly giggling soobin couldn't help but get hard. His hand already pressed to his lap, easy friction when he moved to try and hide himself. 

“You don't have to,” his whisper fell into a moan as soon as you wrapped your hand around his shaft. 

“What if I want to?” your head tilted to the side as you looked up from under your lashes at him. Thumb brushing over his pink tip, his hips sinking into his mattress. “Hum?” you only needed to give a few loose pumps until he was fully hard, his grip on his phone almost as tight as the grip he had on the comforter. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“N-no,” his hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head. 

You waste no time in parting your lips and taking him in just far enough until his head is rolling back, chest caving in as he lets out a moan from deep in his throat. You pull away hand working whatever spit was left on him before going back in for more. You bob your head before trying to dip low enough to take him to the back of your throat. His legs spread a little wider at the feeling, soft whimpers leaving him one after another. 

You're working any of his cock that doesnt fit in your mouth with your hands trying to match the pace of your mouth until you need to come up for a breather. “What were you taking a photo of if it wasn’t a nude?” you ask, slowing down the pace a little to let him get words out other than curses. 

“I just- it was just a selfie, i thought i-” 

“You thought you looked good?” 

He's nodding trying not to buck his hips up into your hands, the way you are squeezing and twisting in just the right order making his head spin. “Do you think I look good?” you ask, kissing up the side of his veiny shaft, thumb pressing into his slit, swirling his precum around. 

“Fuck yes,” 

“You can take a picture if you want, it'll last longer,” your sweet smile sinful before you suck on the thin skin of his balls, his answering moan following the increase of his hip thrusts into your hands. 

Soobin scrambled for his phone, hand shaking as he opened up his camera app, your chuckle felt vibrating through his cock like a shock up his spine. The ding of the recording egging you on as you took him back down your throat. The sheer size of him was a bit overwhelming but just watching your lips wrapped around him, cheeks hollowing out as his tip hip the back of your throat was enough to ruin him. 

His free hand fell to your hair as his orgasm began to build trying to push you further down his cock, hips grinding up to fuck into your mouth, your tongue pressed right into the most prominent vein on his shaft. All the sloppy sounds echoing in the otherwise quiet room, your one free hand holding onto his thigh, nails digging in as you let him ruin your mouth. 

Even before he says it you know he's about to cum by the way his thighs tighten, cock twitching on your lips as he lets out panting words, “cumming im-,” you pull back enough to where it's just the tip in your mouth as he shoots out hot streams of cum on your tongue. His hips jerked as his cock pulses. your hand not stopping its pursuit letting him drag out his high until he cant handle anymore. You swallow his cum before giving soft kisses to his tip watching the way his hands shake as he turns off his phone tossing it behind him as he catches his breath. 

“You'll send that to me right?” you ask and his weak nod in return is all you need.

taglist🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty

[raphael-angele]

Nico is a baby (in love), Bianca is alive

Inspired by one of the posts I've recently reblogged.

Gods, I haven't made these in a while...

*knock knock*

Thalia: Oh, hey, Nico.

Nico: Is Bia in?

Thalia: Yeah, just a sec. Bianca!!

Bianca: Yes? *notices Nico* Oh, hi, Nico.

Nico: Hi. Can you two do me a favor?

Bianca: Uhh *looks at Thalia*

Thalia: What's up?

Nico: So, as you guys may know, tomorrow is my anniversary with Will.

Bianca: Yes, we're aware. You've been nonstop planning for days.

Nico: Anyway, I wanted to ask if it would be possible for you guys to make sure no one interrupts us? Like, nothing too elaborate. But make sure there's no medical emergencies?

Bianca and Thalia: *look at each other*

Thalia: Yeah, okay. Leave it to us, kiddo.

Nico: *sighs in relief* Thanks, guys.

The next Day:

Will: Huh. Look at that! Nearly 3 pm and I havent gotten an emergency call to the infirmary. Can you believe that?

Nico: See? I told you we'd be okay

Will: Yeah, okay. You were right *kisses his cheek*

Meanwhile:

Thalia:

Hermes Cabin:

Travis: Hey, Thalia

Thalia: What?

Travis: We just got a package. They said it's just by the camp gate.

Thalia: Peyton, go get their package

Peyton: On it.

Travis: Thank you.

Hermes Cabin Camper: This is stupid. You can't just keep us in here the whole day.

Thalia: We can and we will.

Hermes Cabin Camper: We'd like to see you try.

Thalia: Sit your ass down.

Hermes Cabin Camper: Yes, mam.

Meanwhile:

Kayla: And be sure to eat something before you take the medicine.

Camper: Thanks, Kayla.

Kayla: Sure, no prob.

Greta (HoA, child of Apollo): Hey.

Austin: Hey. Kayla! Greta's back.

Greta: So, rundown: Ares boy scraped his knee so I applied betadine and patched him up. Aphrodite girl needed some dysmenorrhoea meds. And this Hephastus kid got 1st degree burns on his arm. I poured as much cold water as I could on it and wrapped it a towel so here he is.

Austin: Alright. Thanks, Greta

Greta: Sure, no prob.

Meanwhile:

Percy:

Bianca: *reading a book*

Percy: Can I just-

Bianca: No.

Percy: But I-

Bianca: No.

*knock knock*

Bianca: Who is it?

Annabeth: It's Annabeth.

Bianca: *opens the door* Hi, Annabeth. Sorry, Percy's on lockdown right now.

Annabeth: Why?

Bianca: Short version is that today is Will and Nico's anniversary and we don't trust Percy to not cause chaos today that doesn't end up with anyone in the infirmary.

Annabeth: ...I see...want me to help?

Bianca: That'd be great, thanks.

[maxverstappendefender]

Hi I was wondering if u can make an imagine with max verstappen where the reader is an athlete also (tennis player please 😮‍💨😮‍💨😭😭🥹🥹) and she is also from Netherlands

her and max were like in the same school or neighbors or even Victoria’s friend and her and max used to be dating since they were young teenagers but they broke up because of their careers (more like she broke up with him lol🤭) and they meet again at a gala or a wedding when they are at the top of their game her being world no.1 and many grand slams winner and him being world champion and then they have a confrontation with a lot of angst and yelling and max being heartbroken 💔💔🤌🏻🤌🏻

other part to this request: "Also about the max and athlete reader like if u can make it inspired by “call out my name” by The Weeknd 🥲"

a/n: this is such a good idea, i love some good angst. i made it a smau and also written parts (more towards the hend). i don't know much about tennis but i tried. the google translate dutch is probably bad but that's fine. hopefully i did your idea justice <3

warnings: profanity (?), alcohol

my masterlist !

The Dutch Athletes

yourusername posted on instagram!

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 933,481 others

yourusername and that's a wrap on the lovely game of tennis, back to training for next season :)

view all 91,029 comments

user PROUD TO BE DUTCH BC OF THIS LADY AND THIS LADY ONLY

liked by yourusername

landonorris you're serving! (do you get it? im so funny)

-> yourusername ty lan (the tennis jokes are never funny)

-> landonorris not even a pity laugh.

user i see a certain someone hiding in the likes

-> user 🤺🤺🤺 be gone sir

victoriaverstappen cannot wait to see you next week!

-> yourusername i miss my favourite dutch person

-> user max is punching the wall rn

user wait, im new. why is everyone hating on max verstappen here?

-> user y/n dated him a while back but they ended it in 2021 for reasons no one knows. lots of speculation but they never confirmed or denied anything. he still has loads of pictures of them on his insta but she deleted hers, probs wasn't a mutual breakup in that case. she's still good friends with lando, charles, and max's sister!

-> user he probably cheated or something

-> user they both seem happy so we shouldn't make assumptions :)

liked by yourusername

liked by f1fan1, vstppn, y/nflowers, and 14,912 others

y/nmaxupdates still no new content of our favs together so we are doing a little throwback thursday to one of y/n's posts from 2015 (she has removed the post).

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yourusername posted a story!

yourusername posted on instagram!

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 791,492 others

yourusername vegas baby! vv thankful lando is okay. congrats on the podium charlie!

view all 83,001 comments

charles_leclerc You say congrats but you wear a McLaren hat

-> yourusername only because lando invited me, not you!

user max being cropped out has me CACKLING

user we were so so close to some y/nmax snippet by her posting him but she fucking cropped him out

landonorris i'm so mad i crashed, my helmet was so sick for this race. do you think i can wear it to the clubs tonight?

-> yourusername lando istg if you wear your damn helmet anywhere tonight. you are supposed to be staying at the hotel with me anyways?

-> landonorris i don't see a doctor that will stop me from leaving. but my helmet looked sick right?

-> yourusername eh

landonorris we literally spent like 3 days together before the race and you still chose that ugly picture

danielricciardo VEGAS BABYYY. tonight we party.

liked by yourusername

yourusername posted on instagram!

liked by landonorris, maxverstapen1, and 701,831 others

yourusername 'VEGAS BABYYY. tonight we party.' ~daniel ricciardo (and don't worry, i didn't let lando leave the hotel looking like that)

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it had been a wonderful night so far. lando couldn't drink due to the drugs the doctors gave him so you didn't drink either out of solidarity. lando had gone off to do lando things, probably finding a way to the dj booth or socializing with whoever he can. you were just sat at this couch in the vip area. you were talking to charles for a while before he went off to do celebratory shots. you were so tired from the timezone difference, vegas compared to the netherlands was messing with your system. you had your head leaned back against the couch, your eyes were just looking at some of the drivers having a lot of fun and celebrating in one of the best party cities in the world.

you felt someone sit down next to you on the couch. you didn't know who it was at first but you quickly smelt the cologne and knew. max. you two hadn't really spoken since 2021, when you ended it. it wasn't the prettiest of breakups but we were both stupid kids and in love back then. you both should've known it wouldn't work out. you tried, though. you tried with every single thing you had in you but at the end of the day, fate would always be stronger.

"hey, y/n. haven't seen you in awhile," max finally said, breaking the silence. he sort of had seen you though, on instagram. had he missed you? every fucking day. you broke up with him though, and you seemed happier. if you were happy, he would accept that.

"sure," was all you said. that was your telltale sign that you did not want to talk. but let's be honest, max verstappen not having a conversation when he wants to sounded impossible. he wanted to fix things, he wanted to fix it all. why wouldn't you let him? "any chance we can talk?" he asked you. he wouldn't really take no for an answer. he would just talk to you while you listened, but even that would be stretching it.

you stood up from the couch, careful to not look at him. if you looked at him, you would be a goner and would do just about anything he asked you to. you were a strong person except when it came to max. "see you around," you muttered to him before leaving the vip area. you would infact not be seeing him around, not if you can avoid it. maybe not drinking was a bad idea. you had spotted lando who was busy chatting away to someone. "fuck," you whispered under your breath, realizing that the person who you had to make sure got home safely was still having a good night. you wouldn't want to cut his night short, especially when his night started bad with the race.

you felt some hands wrap around your waist and before you could protest, these hands were pushing you out this door to the club's back alley. you knew those hands though. you knew them all too well. "max, what the hell?!" you shouted at him as you felt the cool night air hit your face. it felt better than how being inside that club felt.

he knew this was probably too far. but when has 'too far' ever stopped him. he was so done with this all. 2 years of not having more than 10 words shared between you two. you two used to talk every single day, where did it all go wrong? he knew this one was his fault. he was the one who had lost you, all for racing. he gave up you for racing. he was a royal idiot for that. "i am so done with you not even talking to me!" he shouted to you. he was thanking god that you two were in an alley and not somewhere public for this.

"i don't want to talk to you," you said to him. not many people held their ground against max, but you always did. you never wanted to talk to him again, not since your breakup. you were happy and had a great life, you didn't need the mess that was max verstappen. "you never do!" he said back. that was true and you both knew it.

"you're right! i never do! because you fucked up," you shouted to him, putting your finger straight to his chest. the breakup was infact not mutual like the media made it seem. you two broke up because you were trying to support him in racing while still building a life in tennis for yourself. you could see the stress eating away at max that year and he still wouldn't let you help. even if it was help from afar. you tried to be there. he didn't even try to be there for you and your goals either.

"i know i did. believe me, i know i fucked it up," he said to you. there had been quite a few sleepless nights where his brain just wouldn't turn off. he had only been thinking about you. tonight was just his breaking point. he was done acting like he hadn't been thinking about you.

there was a moment of silence as we just looked at eachother. we had grown up a lot since we last got close like this. "so then why? just why?" you pleaded to him to just give him a real answer. 2021 had been a hard year for him and you knew that. but you were his girlfriend. you were meant to be there and help him but he wouldn't let you. he pushed you away at any chance he got. then you were alone. it was an endless cycle of you trying to help max with his stress, him pushing you away, and then you also getting lost to your own stress.

he put his hands on either side of your face. he knew he couldn't give you the answer he had given you when you asked this question 2 years ago. he couldn't say "just a tough year" because although that was a part of it, it wasn't the entire truth. and you deserved the truth. "i pushed you away before you could push me away," he said to you as he looked into your eyes. he felt like an idiot for saying that but it was the whole truth.

you gave him a slightly confused look. that had been a different answer than what you got 2 years ago. how could he even think you would push him away? you loved him so much and you had for years. you would have clung to him, even in death. "if i wouldn't have won in 2021, there was that thought that you would be gone," he admitted.

"i wouldn't have left. i wouldn't have ever done that," you quickly said. you had to say that really quickly before he spoke again. clearly your words took him aback a little. he really felt stupid for ever thinking that you would leave, let alone leave simply because he won a championship. mentally, you said 'fuck it', and just kissed him. you pulled away for a second to whisper, "je bent een idioot, max verstappen (you are an idiot, max verstappen)". then you kissed him again.

he smiled in the kiss, his hands in your hair and yours in his. your words were true, he was an idiot. he would probably have to kiss you a million times to make up for him pushing you away. and that was a price he was willing to pay. he felt you pull away and as desperately as he wanted to pull you back into him, he knew you had some more words to say.

you pulled away. "but you left. you left when it got hard and i will never put myself in that position ever again," you said to him. your lips stung with how much desire you had for max. but you had to make smart decisions, you could not get hurt again. and deep down, you knew he would leave if it got hard again. him leaving again would hurt too much. you had a good life now, he had a good life now.

he felt his heart shatter at your words. but he knew you were right that he had left when it got hard. he had taken the coward's way out. he wanted you to be happy and you seemed so happy with your life now. he couldn't take that from you. he nodded his pain away and spoke softly to you, "i hope you have nothing but happiness in life". then he walked away. he walked away but this time for your sake. he knew you wouldn't walk away from him so he walked away from you. he really did hope you had nothing but happiness in life. he could hear all about your happiness from the bits that victoria shared with him.

liked by y/nlover, heartsfory/n, mvfan, and 19,254 others

y/nmaxupdates NEW CONTENT!! I REPEAT NEW CONTENT OF MAX AND Y/N!! that kiss?? oh we are SO back.

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[supernovafics]

Hi! I recently found your "I'll be there for you" universe and I love it.

I was wondering if you'd want to do a sick fic where reader gets a sudden fever/body aches/chills/so on and tries to shrug it off as no big deal even though it absolutely is and Steve, the ultimate caretaker he is, forgets all about his plans for the evening to stay in and take care of them. Thank you, have a great week!

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.7k words

warnings: explicit language, descriptions of sickness/being sick, brief mentions of parental neglect, mentions of weed, overall very soft and wholesome and cozy<3

summary: in which you and steve are sick on christmas 

author's note: thank u for the request !! when i started this series one of the first ideas i had was something where reader and steve are sick during the holidays so this request fit with that perfectly<33 i couldn't really figure out how to end this so it kinda just ends lmao

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1985

“This is your fault,” You told Steve as you sniffled.

“I know, I know,” He responded— he had been hearing your grumbling from the moment you woke up, so he was pretty much used to it by now. He walked over to where you were sitting on the couch and held out a capful of cough syrup for you to grab. “Here. Take this.” 

“Thank you,” You mumbled as you drank the medicine and then immediately went to grab your glass of water sitting on the coffee table because of how strong and bitter the cherry flavoring was. “Ugh.”

You now fully regretted that moment a few nights ago where you and Steve sat out on the fire escape and smoked weed in the freezing weather; an idea that had fully been Steve’s. It was fun in the moment, even though you could barely remember most of the conversation the two of you had, but a hint of a cold started building from the second you woke up that next morning and now it was at its worst. You currently had a stuffy nose and a horrible cough that gave you the shittiest headache. And after hours of laying in your bed and falling in and out of sleep, you finally decided to go out into the living room and complain to your best friend about how much you blamed him for your current sickness. 

“Can you pass me the blanket, please?” You asked, pointing to the one that was laying on the back of one of the dining table chairs; it was barely five feet away but you didn’t have it in you to move out of the comfortable position you found yourself in on the couch. 

“You become such a baby when you’re sick,” Steve told you with a roll of his eyes that you knew wasn’t serious as he handed you the knitted throw blanket, which you immediately wrapped around yourself after putting your water back down.

“Oh, whatever. I swear you’re always worse than me,” You said with your own eye roll; if he was closer to you, you would’ve given his arm a light smack. Your gaze moved upward, taking note of the time on the clock that hung on the wall above the television; it was a small round red clock that Steve had thrifted a few months ago. “Anyway, when are you heading to the Wheeler’s Christmas Eve party? Make sure you have fun for the both of us, and bring me back some of those gingerbread cookies that Karen makes.”

Steve sat next to you on the couch. “I’m not gonna go to the party.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in both surprise and confusion when you heard him say that because he loved going to that holiday party just as much as you did. All of the kids would be there as well as Robin and Eddie, and always at some point during the night, you all would end up migrating downstairs to the basement away from the real adults. The kids and Eddie would start playing D&D as you, Robin, and Steve sat on the sidelines watching the madness unfold. And then eventually the three of you would simply start playing random card games with Nancy and Jonathan. 

“I won’t be mad if you go. Jokingly, yes— I’ll probably pretend to be mad at you for going for the next few days. But, I’m not actually,” You told him and then sniffled again because you couldn’t help it.

“No, it’s okay,” He said as he leaned back on the couch. “I don’t wanna go without you.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, well, in that case,” You scooted closer to him on the couch and leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a position that never failed to comfort you, and you especially needed that in this moment where your body was telling you that you needed to sleep and the cough syrup you just took was making it easier to do so. “Thank you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You weren’t entirely sure how or when you ended up in your bed, but you were happy about it. It was now dark outside and the digital clock sitting on your nightstand told you that the time was only nine o’clock. 

You turned on your side and saw Steve next to you— head against one of your pillows, eyes shut, and lips slightly parted. It was a nice surprise seeing him asleep next to you, but you also knew that he probably shouldn’t be. 

You reached out and lightly poked his cheek a few times. His eyes slowly opened just for a second before closing again and he let out a soft, “Hm?”

“You’re gonna get sick too if you sleep here,” You told him. 

“I wanna stay close just in case you need something.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “And you wonder why I act like a baby when I’m sick. It’s because you treat me like one.” 

“Well, someone has to.” Steve shrugged through his half-asleep daze and you knew exactly what he meant by his words. 

When you were younger, before you met him, you had gotten so used to taking care of yourself because your parents weren’t the type to do much; your dad was always on some sort of business trip and your mom was always busy working at her office. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time either of them gave you medicine or soup or even worried about you at all when you got sick. However, the day your parents met Steve’s on that cruise and it was discovered that you all lived in towns that were only twenty minutes away from one another, things changed— you and Steve started taking care of each other. 

In tenth grade when you got the flu, he spent his lunchtime every day that week driving to your house to check on you. And even though he hated school, he’d still go to yours and pick up your assignments from one of your friends, and he’d help you do most of them so you didn’t fall behind too much; most of it was wrong, but it was the thought that counted. And when he got sick last Summer, you spent every night at his house until he felt better. It was slightly funny because those four days led you to getting sick the next week, and it felt like that same thing was about to happen in this instance. 

“You saying that just reminded me that I need to call my mom and tell her that I can’t come to the Christmas brunch thing she set up with my Aunt and cousin,” You shifted a bit and pulled the blanket higher over you. “Now, I’m actually glad that I’m sick.” 

“I already called and told her while you were sleeping, but she didn’t really believe me, so yeah you should probably call her too,” Steve said, which made you laugh a bit.

“That’s actually not surprising. I’ll call in the morning,” You said and then yawned. “You don’t have to go to your parent’s tomorrow, right?”

“Nope, they’re in California for this business thing my dad has to be at.”

“Nice,” You responded with a small nod. “For some reason, I can’t remember the last time it was just you and me during Christmas.”

“Ninth grade,” Steve said with a small sleepy smile on his face and his eyes opened again. “My parents were out of town, and then yours had to leave too to do something last second. We had the great idea to set up the tent I got in sixth grade and camp out in my backyard.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said, laughing at the memory. “We got way too cold around one in the morning and decided to just sleep in front of the fireplace in the living room.” 

“I wish this place had a fireplace.”

“We can sleep in front of the radiator?”

Steve thought about your suggestion for a second before shaking his head. “Not the same.”

“Okay, that’s true,” You said with a quick nod before reaching beneath the blanket and lightly poking his t-shirt covered side. “Hey, do you remember what I got you that year?”

Steve immediately let out a laugh. “Yes, and I actually still have that Mickey Mouse poster.” 

You turned away from him then and covered your face with your hands. “Oh, God. No, you don’t. You’re kidding.”

“Yes, I do,” Steve said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “It’s rolled up in my closet. I would go grab it, but I’m too tired to move right now.”

You remembered exactly how excited you had been to give him that poster, which was supposed to be a really cool picture of one of his favorite basketball players, and the guy that you bought it from at the flea market even told you that it was signed. But when Steve pulled it out of the plastic and unrolled it in his living room on Christmas, instead of it being anywhere close to a photo of any basketball player, it was a picture of Mickey Mouse on a train.

“I’m still so embarrassed and mad that the sales guy at that flea market tricked me,” You said and sighed. You were still a little upset with yourself that you didn’t make him open up the poster and show it to you before you bought it, but he said that was “against the rules” since it was sealed in the plastic, and that reasoning had somewhat made sense to you. “And it’s not like I could try to return it or yell at him because the flea market was only here for a weekend.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, I think we should hang the poster up in the living room. Maybe where the dining table is?” 

You turned to face Steve again. “I will never allow that to happen.”

“I guess I’ll just have to put it up when you fall asleep,” He said, and you ignored his overdramatic wince when you playfully punched his arm. “Do you remember what I got you for Christmas that year?” 

“Of course,” You nodded. You still had that silver bracelet he got you, and you were a thousand percent certain that you would keep it forever, even though now it just sat in your jewelry box because the clasp broke sometime last year. “I still can’t figure out how to fix that damn clasp.”

“I could just get you another one.”

“Not the same,” You told him with a quick shake of your head. “One day I’ll figure out how to fix it.”

“Okay,” He said and then brought up a different time that the two of you decided to try camping in his backyard, which was in the Summer and on a very warm night, but you and him still didn’t fully spend the night outside because there were too many bugs. 

You laughed at the memory as Steve talked about it now because it just reminded you that you and him were probably the least “outdoorsy” people ever, but somehow that never stopped either of you from trying to be. 

That was how the rest of the night went; reminiscing about more random stuff— memories from various moments of your friendship that always made you smile or laugh or even feel a little bit embarrassed— until both of you fell asleep again. And it wasn’t the biggest surprise when Steve woke up in the morning sniffling.

“I told you this would happen,” You said to him as you walked back to your bed, cough syrup in hand because you knew that he’d be needing it. You were actually feeling the tiniest bit better; still pretty bad but not as horrible as yesterday.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” He grumbled as he rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes and then sneezed.

“Here. Take this,” You said with a small smile, mimicking the same words he had said to you yesterday. 

“Our roles changed way too fast,” Steve said before drinking the capful of cough syrup. “I was supposed to be taking care of you, and now you’re the one taking care of me.”

“We’ll take shifts on who gets to be the more helpless one,” You told him amusingly. “Right now it’s your turn. Do you want some water?”

He nodded and you went to the kitchen to grab a bottle and then handed it over to him before you settled back in the bed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A handful of hours passed, all of which marked the most boring Christmas you’d probably ever had; but you’d take this silence and sickness over a tense brunch with your mom any day.

You were reading a book and Steve was still asleep next to you, turned on his side and blanket covering his head. A knock on the front door pulled your focus away from the page you were in the middle of reading.

You really didn’t feel like getting out of bed to answer it, but you also didn’t want to wake Steve and make him go do it, so with a sigh, you closed your book and placed it on the nightstand and then walked out of your bedroom. You headed to the couch first to grab the knitted throw blanket and wrap it around your shoulders so that it covered your bare legs, and then you proceeded to answer the door. 

Miss Johnson, the sweet older woman that lived a few doors down, stood in front of you with a red and green plaid patterned tin of what you assumed were the Christmas cookies that she told you about the first time you met. When you and Steve moved into the building, she introduced herself on that first day and gave you a welcome basket of muffins that were probably the best muffins that both you and Steve had ever had, and she also mentioned that for the holidays she gave out cookies to people in the building.  

She smiled at you for a brief second before a surprised look crossed her face. “Hi– Oh, you look terrible. What happened?”

Somehow the brutal honesty actually felt more sweet and worried than rude; and it warmed your heart and simultaneously hurt it so fucking bad that she was the only older adult in your life that actually seemed to care. 

You let out a small cough. “Me and Steve are sick right now. Just a cold.”

“Oh no, that stinks,” She said with a frown, and then held the tin out toward you. “Here take these cookies and I’ll be right back. Let me go make you both some soup.”

You grabbed the tin and smiled at her. “Thank you so much for the cookies, but you don’t have to make us soup.” 

In all honesty, you would’ve loved soup at that moment because you and Steve hadn’t eaten all day aside from the two slices of buttered toast that he made around noon, since neither of you could really be bothered to make anything else. But, Miss Johnson had already made the cookies for you two, so you felt bad about her also doing this for you and Steve. 

She shook her head at you. “No, no, it’s not a problem at all. I know I already have all of the ingredients, so it’ll just take me fifteen minutes, twenty tops.”

You were about to assure her again that she really didn’t have to do that, but she was already walking away and heading back down the hall before any word could leave your mouth. 

There was something about the gesture that felt way too sweet and nice, and it made you wish that you had someone like her in your life when you were younger. And then that thought made you feel so fucking grateful that for the past almost ten years, you had Steve. 

You placed the cookie tin on the kitchen counter and then tightened your blanket around you. You could see from the large window that led out to the fire escape that the sun was beginning to set, and as you got closer and peaked below at the street, you saw that some snow still lingered on the ground from when it came down a few days ago; the same night that you and Steve sat out on the fire escape.

The sudden sound of Steve saying, “Please don’t go out there. I don’t wanna repeat this sick cycle,” made you turn around and look at your best friend. He had slipped on a hoodie, which was yours (although back in high school it technically had been his), and his hair was the messiest you’d seen it in a while, and that let you know exactly how bad he was probably feeling right then. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going out there without an actual jacket anytime soon.”

“Okay, good,” He yawned and then smiled when he saw what was on the counter. “Miss Johnson brought the cookies?”

“Yes,” You said, walking back to the kitchen and watching as Steve opened up the tin. There were at least a dozen cookies in it; a mixture of Christmas trees, Santa Clauses, and snowflakes. “She also went to go make us soup since we’re sick.”

“She’s way too nice to us,” Steve said and grabbed one of the Santa Claus cookies.

“I agree,” You told him, deciding to grab a snowflake cookie for yourself. “Meanwhile, we’re horrible people and didn’t even think about getting her something for Christmas. Once we’re better we have to get her something.”

“Yeah. We can get her a nice sweater or cardigan,” Steve said, and you nodded at that suggestion; whenever either of you saw Miss Johnson she was almost always wearing some sort of fun and colorful cardigan so that idea felt right. He took another bite of the cookie in his hand and then looked at you. “Will this ruin our appetite?”

“Considering the fact that we’ve barely had anything to eat today since we’ve felt so shitty, I don’t think that there’s really an appetite to ruin.”

“Very true.”

The two of you migrated to the couch, bringing the cookie tin along with you, and mindlessly watched the Charlie Brown Christmas special that played on television as you ate some more cookies. 

When there was another knock on the door twenty minutes later, right as the Charlie Brown episode ended, you looked at Steve and pulled your legs off his lap. “Your turn to get it.” 

He nodded and got up, running a quick hand through his hair, which didn’t really do much to tame it, before opening the door. 

“Hi, Miss Johnson,” Steve said, and even though he was facing away from you, you could hear the smile in his voice. He received a smile back as she handed him a full tupperware of soup. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to make this for us.”

“It’s really no problem. I hope you two feel better soon,” She responded. “And also here are some tea bags. You guys should be drinking that too.” 

You watched as she put a few in Steve’s free hand. Neither you nor him really liked tea, but you weren’t about to tell Miss Johnson that when she was being so damn nice and thoughtful. 

“Thank you so much,” You said from the couch and smiled at her. “Also, we’ve already tried some of the cookies and they’re amazing.”

“Just wait until you try the chocolates I make for Valentine’s Day,” She said and you smiled even wider at that. 

“Can’t wait.”

She said her final goodbyes and headed back down the hall to her apartment after telling you both that you could knock on her door if you needed anything; more soup, medicine, etc. And that offer, which sounded completely genuine, only further confirmed the fact that you and Steve definitely needed to get her a gift as soon as possible. 

Steve pulled two bowls out of one of the cabinets and split the soup, which you then learned was chicken noodle, evenly in both of them and then handed one over to you. 

“Thanks,” You said as he also gave you a spoon and then sat down on the couch again. 

He took control of the TV remote and you didn’t argue when he stopped on a channel that was playing a James Bond movie. After finishing your soup, you maneuvered around so that you were laying down and your head was in his lap and you fell asleep just like that. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another set of hours passed, although you were unaware of exactly how many. You were woken up by the feeling of Steve softly stroking your ear; which he knew would always either annoy you or make you laugh because of how much it tickled— most of the time it was both. This time was no different. 

You were laughing as you shooed his hand away. “Stop that.”

“I needed to wake you up.”

You looked up at him and rubbed your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

You nodded at his answer and then suddenly realized through your half asleep daze why he decided to wake you right then. “Oh, we have to open the presents.”

From that very first Christmas you spent together, it was agreed upon that you would do your gift exchange at night— once you both were done being stuck all day with your parents and other family members that you never saw any other time of the year. 

You’d sneak off to his house once those family members were gone and your parents were asleep, or he’d come to yours, and then you’d exchange gifts and almost always end up talking about nothing until the morning. 

You sat up. “I’m just now realizing that we could’ve done it earlier today.”

“Yeah, but that would’ve broken the tradition,” Steve said and you agreed with that, there was something about always doing the gift exchange at night that felt like the only way to do it at this point.

You went into your bedroom and grabbed Steve’s present that you had stashed away in your closet. When you left your room, you saw that he was already sitting next to the small Christmas tree that sat lit up in the corner close by the window and he was holding what you rightly assumed was your gift from him. 

The tree was so small that it didn’t make sense to put gifts under it, so that was why you kept the one you got for Steve in your room and he had yours in his. The only things that did sit next to the tree and slightly under it were the little presents that you both got for Harold the Hamster. 

“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” You said, sitting down next to him and giving him his gift. He let out a laugh when he noticed that the green wrapping paper had pictures of polar bears wearing Santa hats on it— when you had seen it weeks ago at the store, you thought it was adorably funny and knew you had to get it.

He handed over the gift he got you and the sight of his messy wrapping job made you smile. “Merry Christmas.” 

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A happy yelp emitted from your lips when you saw the vinyl of The Breakfast Club soundtrack. It was quite literally the perfect gift— you had held the tape of the movie that you rented from Steve’s Family Video hostage for a month straight when they first got it in, and sometimes you’d watch the movie just to hear the songs.

“After how many times you watched the movie this year, this felt very fitting,” Steve told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the red bow that was placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at him and smiled. “I hope you’re prepared to hear this at least three times a week for the next few months.” 

He laughed a bit. “I knew you were going to say that, and I’ve already accepted the fact that I will have to hear Don’t You Forget About Me on an endless loop for a while.” 

“Good,” You said, still smiling, and then you bumped your knee with his. “Open yours.”

Steve finally started opening your gift for him, tearing the wrapping paper off to reveal a shoebox, which had a new pair of white Nikes inside. They were the same as the pair he already had that had the red “swoosh” on the side, but that pair was now a lot less white since he had them since Sophomore year of high school and he’d wear them almost religiously. 

“It’s time to retire the ones you’ve had for the past three years,” You said as he pulled out one of the sneakers. “Oh, also, there’s a note at the bottom of the box.” 

Steve put the one sneaker down and then grabbed the small notecard with your handwriting on it that was buried underneath the other one. “‘This is long overdue. You probably should’ve gotten rid of your last pair after the basketball season ended Senior year. And speaking of basketball, after your many years of begging and pleading I will finally grant your wish and play basketball with you. You’re welcome. Shit, I already regret writing this.’” He looked at you, a smile growing on his face. “You’re serious?” 

“Sadly, yes,” You answered, and when he smiled wider, you said, “It’s only gonna happen one time and just for a couple of hours, and if I break my leg or arm or anything else during this, I will sue you, Harrington.” 

You had two left feet when it came to any sort of sport— in a way, it was funny how clumsy you’d get whenever you had to play anything— and Steve knew that, but for perhaps the entirety of your friendship he still always tried to convince you to play basketball with him, and you always said no because why would you ever do something that you knew would only lead to embarrassment? Even if it was just with your best friend. He’d seen more than enough of your accidental embarrassing moments, and in your mind there was no need for him to also see one that could easily be avoided. 

But, you knew that finally doing this would make him happy, and that made your imminent embarrassment feel somewhat worth it.

“You’re not gonna break anything, but if you do, I’ll completely understand if you decide to sue me,” Steve said and you could hear the joking undertones in his voice. “So, when can we play?”

“You can choose the day, but please wait until we’re not sick and when it’s not freezing cold outside.” 

He nodded at that. “Okay, deal.”

“What did you get Harold?” You asked as you picked up the present next to the tree that Steve had wrapped.

“A new wheel,” He answered and that made you laugh.

“I also got him a new wheel.”

It actually wasn’t entirely surprising that you and Steve had the same gift idea. You two loved Harold with your entire hearts, but at least twice a week he’d wake one or both of you up at three in the morning by running on the current wheel he had, which was the squeakiest thing in the world.

Steve looked over at where Harold’s cage sat on the coffee table in the living room area. “Maybe he’ll like having two.” 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Maybe he’ll designate one for daytime running and the other for nighttime running.”

Steve smiled at your joking statement. “Exactly.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 05

summary: you learn a couple new things about Miles as you fall into your new study routine. wc: 1.1k start from the beginning prev next a/n: probs won't update regularly if i'm being transparent but i gotta wrap the story up! so expect more in the coming weeks probably. and before you ask no this does not mean i'm returning to writing reader insert i am just finishing what i started bc i feel like i owe it to my audience ! much love <3

The auditorium was empty during lunchtime, which meant that no one was there to spectate as the sound of your voice echoed through the rows of unoccupied seats. You were working on one of the numbers from the second act.

“It’s not up to me…Just let me be…Legally–”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

You sighed, not needing to look up to know who it was.

“Have you come to take me away?” you asked dryly as you descended down the steps and trudged over to where Miles stood in the middle of the aisle with a smug look on his face.

“You can finish your song, if you want.”

You brushed right past him towards the double doors.

“Stop pretending to be nice.”

Essentially being a teacher’s assistant, Miles had elevator privileges that removed the hassle of climbing up five flights of stairs to reach Mr. Sanchez’s classroom, making it the most (and perhaps the only) pleasant part of the experience.

Sanchez was digging into a bowl of salad when the two of you arrived.

“Ah! Buenas tardes,” he greeted hastily through a mouthful of lettuce. “Thank you for being on time.”

You shoved past Miles and rushed over to the professor’s desk.

“I just have to make up for last week’s missing homework and a couple quizzes, right?”

“Well, yes, but there’s also–”

“Can I just do that at home, then? All due respect, but I really don’t need a partner to–”

“Hold on,” he held up a hand to stop you. “You also have some gaps in understanding when it comes to grammatical concepts such as presente and futuro, missing assignments notwithstanding. You’ll go over those with Miles first before making up last Friday’s quiz independently. Comprende?”

You visibly deflated where you stood. To tell the truth, the different tenses were never your strong suit, but you were able to get away with that with flawless vocabulary memorization and verb conjugation (in the present tense, of course). Now? Not so much.

“Comprende,” you groaned before turning away to grab a seat.

Miles had already taken a chair and pulled it up to one of the desks in the front, and was sitting on it backwards with his notebook in front of him.

“Ready, partner?” he said with a wide, mocking grin. He knew you couldn’t tell him to shut up in front of Sanchez.

You rolled your eyes and sat down with a slump.

“Let’s get it over with.”

He opened his notebook and flipped through a few messy pages before landing on a blank sheet. Sloppily ripping it free from its binding, he took out a Sharpie (which he uncapped with his teeth) and began to draw a line down the middle. 

“What are you doing?”

He began writing a series of words down either side of the line.

“Helping you.”

Miles slid the piece of paper towards you.

It was a verb conjugation chart, labeled ‘Past Tense’ in his strange handwriting that made no distinction between upper and lower-case letters.

“I’m gonna give you a sentence, and you repeat it back to me in the past tense. Then we’re gonna do the same thing in futuro.”

You sulked, “How come you don’t have to memorize anything? You said you don’t even study.”

He gave you a blank, ‘are-you-stupid’ look.

“I speak Spanish.”

“No duh, I mean in every other class. You know the whole periodic table front-to-back.”

“Huh? Oh, photographic memory. I only need to read something once,” he tapped his forehead, “then it’s locked in.”

Stunned, you could do nothing but lean back in your chair and slowly shake your head.

“Absolutely ridiculous.”

The rest of that week had you repeating the same song and dance of trudging into Sanchez’s classroom and running drills with Miles and his impromptu conjugation charts. For every wrong answer, Miles made an incredibly irritating sound that was meant to imitate a game show buzzer, which forced you to pay more attention to minimize how often you had to hear it.

You hated to admit it, but at some point you began to retain the tenses with more ease than before and noticed a steady increase in your quiz grades as a result. 

Thursday after school saw you arrive at an empty auditorium, thirty minutes before rehearsal. Any normal student would spend this extra time studying or doing homework, but you had seen enough flashcards and charts to last you a lifetime. Instead, you pulled out your highlighted copy of the sheet music for ‘Chip on My Shoulder’ and began rehearsing as a one-man ensemble.

Your singing today felt more difficult than usual; the lyrics suddenly felt heavy on your tongue, the notes coming out strained and forced. In the middle of a line, the double doors swung open just as your voice cracked.

“Damn, were you lip-syncing this whole time? You sound rough.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course it had to be him.

Miles sounded nearly out-of-breath as he strolled past you, his uniform rumpled shirt and un-tucked, as if he’d just put it on. The band-aid on his forehead was joined by another, more colorful one on his cheek. 

“As if you could do better,” you scoffed as you watched him toss his bag onto an empty chair two seats away from where you sat.

He looked up with a mischievous grin.

“I could.”

“Oh?” You smirked and shoved the sheet music into his face. “Try it, then.”

Miles squinted at it before pushing it away.

“Pfft, this song is lightwork. I don’t need that.”

“Alright, then recite your lines. I’ll start,” you inhaled deeply and held up the lyrics. “ ‘You came out here–’”

“‘To follow a man? Harvard Law was part of that plan? Man, what rich, romantic planet are you from?’”

Startled by his near-perfect pitch, you stuttered, lowering the sheet of paper a bit to give Miles an odd look. 

He continued, “ ‘Instead of lying outside by the pool, you stalk some guy to an Ivy League School’...et cetera.”

You blinked in utter disbelief. Miles’ voice had a tone as clear as a bell, and flawless diction to match. If he had auditioned, he would’ve been a shoe-in.

“...Huh. You sing? Like, actually?”

He shrugged, “I used to lead the choir at church, but not anymore.”

Just as he finished his sentence, Sarah followed by a handful of tech kids began trickling into the auditorium.

“Oh, sweet, you guys are early!” Sarah nodded, making two check marks on her clipboard as her bag hung off of one shoulder. “Miles, d’you wanna help figure out the lighting situation for the show? Josh said you were good with color.”

“Sure, not a problem.”

“You’re amazing, dude. I don’t know how we would’ve gotten those sets done without you.”

“All in a day’s work!”

[youaintnothinbuta]

“What are you doing up, little lady?” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: you and dad!Elvis have a close call, your daughter almost coming downstairs on Christmas Eve to see her parents putting presents under the tree. More domestic elvis for you cos it’s just so healing

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x mom!reader

Word count: 661

Warnings: fluff! Dad!Elvis being all domestic <3 probs typos sorry I’m tireddd

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The house had been buzzing with excitement all day, lots of family and friends coming in and out, visits from carollers and elves and cooking baking and everything else that comes along with Christmas time. Your daughter was 5 now and so she definitely understood that all the fuss meant Father Christmas was finally going to visit that night, hence it was a task and a half trying to get her to sleep. By the time it got to midnight, you and Elvis were very certain she was well asleep. You got busy putting all the presents under the tree and doing any last minute wrapping, getting everything ready for the big day.

In the middle of tying a bow, you thought you heard something. Snapping your head up, you reached your hand to Elvis’ knee with a stern “shh,” holding your hand up to motion for him to be quiet. He froze, also listening intently. His eyes widened at the soft rustle of tiny feet padding across the landing at the top of the stairs.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Elvis sprung up, quickly headed up the stairs, scooping up your daughter who was just about to take her second step down.

“What are you doing up, little lady?” He asked gently, resting her on his hip as he moved her away from the stairs.

“I can’t sleep,” she confessed. “Has Santa come yet?”

Elvis reassured her, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. “No, sweetheart, he won’t come until you’re fast asleep in bed.”

She huffed, worriedly.

“How about this. You wait up here, I’ll warm up some milk for you, and we can have daddy-daughter snuggles until you sleep again,” Elvis suggested.

She nodded, he put her down on the floor and watched as she wandered towards her bathroom, making sure she wasn’t about to follow him downstairs. After heating up some milk for her in record time, he handed her her bottle and carried her back to her bedroom.

With her bottle clasped tightly in one tiny hand, your daughter used the other to tug gently at one of Elvis’ fingers, leading him towards the oversized armchair nestled in the corner of her room. Taking the hint, Elvis settled into the chair, pulling her onto his lap and cradling her against his chest.

Elvis held her close, his arms forming a protective cocoon around her as she sucked contentedly on her bottle, her eyelids growing heavy with sleep.

In a gentle whisper, Elvis began to sing, the familiar lyrics of lullabies filling the room with warmth and comfort. He sang to her softly, with all the love in his heart, the melody of his voice wrapping around your daughter like a warm cuddle. For the next twenty minutes or so, he continued to lull her, until at last, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing signaled that she had drifted off to sleep once more.

Carefully and quietly, Elvis eased her limp form from his embrace, laying her down gently on her bed. He tucked the covers snugly around her, ensuring she was warm and secure before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Descending the stairs once more, Elvis found you waiting expectantly, concern etched across your features. In the time it’d taken him to get y/d/n to sleep, you’d pretty much wrapped up (no pun intended) and cleaned everything up.

“She’s all settled now,” he said with a reassuring smile.

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning into his body for a cuddle. “Thank goodness,” you agreed, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

Elvis chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “We would’ve made something up,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Now, let’s go to bed darlin’, we got an early morning,” he said, picking you up, reaching for the light switch, turning it off before carrying you upstairs, laying you gently down on your bed.

[mothwingwritings]

Frohe Weihnachten

Boyfriend To Death Strade X F! Reader X Ren

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! By some miracle of the holiday season I have arrived and even wrote something, even if it is random and I struggled to get finished before Christmas. But I did it and now  I offer it to you humbly as a lil gift.

This month has unfortunately bad. All the bad had me looking for distractions to keep me from the gloom, and the search for distractions lead me to replaying Boyfriend To Death 1, and replaying BTD made me start Boyfriend to Death 2, and well… Here we are. It’s been one of the few things I could focus on that brought me joy this month (what that says about my mental health we will leave up to interpretation loooooool :)), so I decided to try my hand at writing something for it. It proved to be a fun challenge, and I am hoping to do some more BTD stuff in the future. :3

ANYWAY here is a Strade-centric fic (Ren is there too, though) I churned out amidst the December bs. He’s spoiling you in it which isn’t really a good thing for you. I hope I did him justice. He is a very nuanced guy and I had a lot of fun writing this. I can slowly feel god awful, horrible men  becoming my forte , and at this point I am just embracing it.

Please be mindful that BTD and BTD2 are adult games, so even though there is no explicit NSFW in this fic, it is for 18+ only just as its source material is. No one under the age of 18 should be reading this, thank you!

WARNINGS: Torture, stabbing, blood, degradation, forced stripping, pet play, mentions of rape/noncon, Strade is filming a snuff film and though you are a part of it, you are not the one being snuffed (congrats!), severing of body parts, nonconsensual filming and touching, kidnapping, imprisonment, butchered German (my highschool German teacher is crying somewhere) and probs some shoddy editing (sorry for the rush!).

Staring down at the gifts laid out before you, a thin layer of sweat began to coat your body.

It wasn’t so much that the boxes wrapped in vibrant, pretty, paper were that unnatural (it was Christmas day, after all) so much as it was shocking that you had received them at all, given the circumstances.

This was your first Christmas away from home, the first holiday season spent without the company of your friends and family, and their absence felt like a swift punch in the gut. None of the old traditions and celebrations you were accustomed to partaking in were around to bring you comfort this year, the laid back, pleasant atmosphere that typically encapsulated  Christmas was nowhere to be found. Any jolly vibe was replaced by discomfort, apprehension, and a festering disquiet that permeated the air, killing any and all fun normal for this day.

Across from the looming assortment of gifts, each wrapped in varying degrees of expertise, sat your captor Strade, and parked next to him was your fellow captive Ren. Both sets of eyes were drinking you in with great interest, the out-of-place youthful enthusiasm reflecting back at you doing little to quell your mounting anxiety. You shifted nervously in your seat, trying your best to remain calm. You had no idea what manner of sick surprise awaited you in those packages, all you knew was that you were dreading opening them, especially with these two watching. Thinking of what the wrong reaction to their presents may illicit was more stress inducing than the gifts themselves, which already made you feel like you were developing a hernia.

“Well, go ahead,” Strade was the first to speak, his lazy drawl and splayed out body contradicting heavily with the frenzied look in his eye, “What are you waiting for?”

Ren nodded beside him eagerly, “Go ahead, (name)! I opened mine earlier because I was too excited to wait,” he chuckled a little, a small, bashful blush illuminating his cheeks, “And um, there’s a few for you in there from me so… I hope you like them.”

Your eyes traveled from the men, down to the presents. You swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by their façade of innocence, violated by their unblinking stares.

“I-I’m sorry, I just um… Wasn’t really expecting… this…”

It wasn’t a lie, the last thing you could have predicted was a present, let alone multiple. You figured maybe Ren would get you something (he had the luxury of internet access, something you were yet to be trusted with), but it wasn’t even within the realm of fantasy that you may receive anything from Strade. The only thing you dared hope for was a small reprieve from the abuse he inflicted daily, but even that seemed too farfetched to hope for.

“Well, I say you deserve it,” Strade spoke, the calm cadence of his voice still clashing with the gleam in his eye, “what’s Christmas without presents, after all? So go ahead, open them.”

You hesitated for a moment before finally reaching a shaky hand towards the closet gift on the table. Your body was moving mechanically, and though your fear was palpable, you forced your demeanor to remain composed as you pulled the small box into your lap. Your fingers carefully tore through the thin paper, dreading revealing the mystery that shiny paper shielded you from.

And as the paper fell away piece by piece, you were shocked to find that the box contained… slippers.

You stared at them for a moment, dumbfounded. Of all the things in the world that could have been waiting inside that box, to receive something so innocuous and normal was beyond perplexing.

And the gifts continued this way. You unwrapped package after package of clothing, perfumes and toiletries, stuffed animals and snacks. Each new item bewildered you just as much as the last, leaving you feeling like all this was just the lead up of  a joke, one you felt like you were the punch line for.

 As if the gifts themselves weren’t mind boggling enough, the quantity and quality of them were just as shocking. Brand names and fancy, high end packaging stared back at you with nearly each ripped wrapping, a small slap in the face with each revelation.

It left a pit in your stomach. Not even your own parents would gift you some of these things, so why were you being treated this way by a homicidal maniac and his companion? To make matters even worse, most of the gift you actually liked. Definite thought was put into each present, unnerving you most of all. You didn’t want them to know your likes and dislikes, and you certainly didn’t want them to be so familiar with you that they could easily pick out things you may desire. It felt borderline offensive that they were able to peg you so well, like you had been wrenched open and all the hidden parts of yourself you had been hiding had been forced out in the open, secrets uncovered you wished to remain hidden.

Heebie jeebies aside, such normalcy left you scratching your head. You had an intense urge to inspect each and every item to make sure the clothes weren’t secretly lined with razors, or the stuffed animals weren’t just cute ways to conceal knives, but you contained yourself. No use in setting them off when things were going surprisingly well.

You kept yourself neutral as you thanked them, neither over eager or ungrateful as you graciously accepted the offerings. Ren beamed in recognition each time you mentioned him, delighted by the simplest praise. Strade remained nonchalant, leaning back as he leered at you with that unnerving smile he always so proudly donned on his face.

When the present pile had come to an end, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over you. You felt like you had made it out of a vary harrowing journey without so much as a scratch, and felt quite accomplished for doing so.

However, before you could feel the weight truly lifted from your shoulders, any sense of triumph quickly flew out the door as Strade slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His beady eyes drilled holes through you, delighting in the apprehension his subtle shift caused you. Your blood turned to ice as he gave you a lopsided grin, his words coming out drawn out and slow, as if he were speaking to a child.

“Myyy look at that,” he sneered, “so many nice things for our (Name)! She must have some very generous admirers. It’s obvious she’s the favorite, not a single one of those boxes were for you or me, Ren!”

The weight of your situation suddenly crashed down around you. Of course these gifts wouldn’t come without some horrible caveat-you were an idiot for even thinking you would get away with this scot free.

You tried to calm yourself with the fact that Strade most likely wouldn’t go through all the hassle of spending all this money on someone he planned to kill shortly after. What would be the point? But that thought birthed an even worse fear, the expectation of getting something back in return. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be able to provide him a physical gift, a fact Strade was intimately aware of. That left you with one option- he was looking for reciprocation through different means.

You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you clasped them in your lap, struggling with how to word the imminent question you had.

“Do you want… I mean, should I get you something in return?”

You hated how small your voice sounded, dreading the response your words may garner. A shiver rocked you as the smile on Strade’s face spread, his arms spreading out in a dramatic shrug as he shook his head with a laugh.

“No no, please! The only thing I want in return is for you to thoroughly enjoy your gifts, nothing else is needed. Your delight is a gift in and of itself.”

His words did little to help your dwindling nerves. A sudden harsh clap of his hands made your heart skip a beat, his body pivoting to face Ren with a sadistic smile.

“I almost forgot,” he exclaimed, his voice taking a dangerous edge, “we have one more very special surprise for our girl, don’t we?”

Your attention darted to Ren, hoping for a sign of assurance from him. The beatskin started to squirm a bit in his seat, pulling nervously at the hem of his oversized sweater. He looked over at you with lidded eyes, a dangerous gleam in them that you knew was a terrible precursor of the pain to come. 

Ren’s breathing had grown unsteady, the blush that had engulfed his face becoming so vibrant you could almost feel its heat from where you sat. While there was nervousness to his demeanor, he couldn’t quite mask the hints of his exhilaration from peeking through. The guileless enthusiasm was hard to face, causing you to avert your gaze, your heart sinking deeper. Ren was no saint himself, but he was all you had in this hell that masqueraded as a normal, middle class home. He was supposed to have your back (and often times did) in moments like these, but it appeared his demons won this round. The thrill radiating from him over your oncoming misery was perceptible. You were on your own with whatever lay ahead.

With a jerk of Strades head, Ren bounded off the couch to another room, the sound of subtle clanging reaching your ears as he dug around out of sight. You careened your body, hoping to maybe get a peek of whatever the hell Ren had ran so jubilantly to acquire, but you immediately stopped once you heard a chuckle rumble from Strade’s chest.

“My my~,” he purred, the sound causing an instinctive shiver, “so eager this morning (name)! I can only hope you keep that up once you see what the surprise actually is, hm?”

Before you had a chance to respond, Ren barreled back into the room, slightly out of breath and clutching some sort of metallic, chain linked contraption in is hand.

“Sorry,” he lightly huffed, handing the item in question to Strade, “I hid it really well so it took a moment to get.”

Once it was in his grasp, Strade turned to you, holding out the item so you could finally view it in all its glory.

It was a new collar-a dog training collar, to be precise. This one however had been modified, the spikes lining the interior of the collar, while typically coated with a thick, squishy plastic to as not to hurt the dog in their training stage, were missing their protection. The metal nubs that the plastic encased were also typically dull and rounded on most training collars, meant to poke and prod instead of maim and hurt. You would not be getting that manner of gentle encouragement it seemed, your body tensing as you stared at each harshly pointed spike. The needle like protrusions glistened so brilliantly in the overhead light it almost appeared as if the collar was made of diamonds.

You sat perfectly still, in a complete daze as Strade approached you and swiftly released the thick electric collar from around your neck. The cool air hit your sweat drenched flesh, giving you a chill. While it was nice to be without the weight of that vile contraption, the freedom was only momentary as he clasped your new chain links into place across your throat. Though it was much more delicate than your previous collar, for some reason it felt much heavier than its bulky electric counterpart.

You winced as he gave the leash a small pull, grinning when a sharp, shocked cry fell past your lips. The needles hadn’t broken the skin yet, but the action did make you become keenly aware of just much damage they could cause with very minimal effort. The delicate nature of your current standing was looking bleaker with each passing second, uncontrollable shivers wracking your body as you eyed Strade fiddling carelessly with your leash. He seemed pleased by the attention his minor ministrations were awarding him, humored by the pain he could bring you with a mere flick of his wrist.

“I-it looks pretty on you, (Name),” Ren stuttered, a nervous smile complimenting the red of his cheeks, “Kind of dainty, like a fancy necklace. It really suits you.”

“It is pretty, isn’t it?” Strade jeered, fingering the chains that hung heavy around your neck, “I considered one for you too Ren, I didn’t want to make you jealous, you know? But then I figured hell, if I get this for (Name) Ren’ll probably enjoy this just as much as I do, so it’s already a two for one deal.”

Giving your cheek a few mild slaps, Strade turned his gaze towards Ren, “I trust that you’ll take good care of (Name) if I’m ever out and about and you want to have some special fun with her. A little pet time for my pet would do him some good, I think.”

The flippant insinuation made bile rise in the back of your throat.

“Now,” Strade pulled tighter on the leash, prompting you to rise to your feet and stand before the men. He lifted the chain above his head, laughing as you rose to tiptoes to avoid gouging your neck, “What do we say after we receive such a nice present, hmmm~?”

“Thank you,” you choked the words through your indignation, the spikes scratching uncomfortably against your skin as you did so. After several seconds of your balancing act, Strade lowered his hand, granting you the ability to stand normally. You released the breath you were holding, thankful that for at least this moment, you escaped agony.

“So ein gutes Mädchen für mich,” he cooed condescendingly, patting your head as if you were an actual dog, “you are really making me proud! But the fun isn’t over yet, in fact, this is just the first part of your special surprise,” his eyes widened at your obvious despair, “Aren’t you lucky?”

Without further ado he stomped past you, leash gripped tightly in his hand as he led your further into the house. While there was more leeway to the leash than anticipated, you still hustled to follow after him, fearful of the barbs encircling your throat. His whistled as he walked, his demeanor so exuberant that for a moment you felt he might start skipping. Ren trailed behind you, following closely in your footsteps.

It didn’t take long for you to catch on to where you were headed. As you came to stop before the thick, iron door that separated the rest of the house from the hell-hole that was the basement, tidal wave of fear washed over you. Strade took a deep breath, relishing all that was too come, immersed in the anticipation he was undoubtedly feeling. He turned to you and smiled, and you fought to keep a grip on your sanity. Feeling feint, your eyes flicked from him, back to the imposing door. Your heart was banging so violently in your chest from the sheer amount of terror that was coursing through your veins that you worried you may pass out.

How many people had met cruel, agonizing fates down those stairs? How many gallons of blood had dripped down the walls, pooled on the floor, snaked through the drains? How many anguished screams had reverberated off those sound proof walls?

You began to panic as Strade opened the door with ease, wasting no time making his way down. You hadn’t been to the basement since Strade had kidnapped you many months ago and you had hoped it would be a place that you never found yourself in again. It relieved you when Strade had forbid you and Ren from stepping foot down there, one of the few orders he gave that you were actually happy to oblige. Strade only took people to the basement for one reason and one reason only, and the fact that he was so pleasantly dragging you down there right now did not bode well for you in the slightest.

“W-wait,” you called out nervously, grabbing at the chain leash in an attempt to stop his descent. “W-why are we going down here?”

“Because it’s where the rest of your present is,” he answered as if it were obvious, a tinge of annoyance in his voice as he shot you a pointed look, “Now come on.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle touch on your shoulder stopped you.

“It’s ok, (Name),” Ren’s voice sounded softly in your ear. You could tell he was doing his best to sound reassuring. “We are allowed down there today, Strade said we could as a special treat for Christmas. It’s OK, I promise,” he gave your shoulder a small squeeze, before planting a fleeting kiss to your cheek, “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

His words did little to assuage the overwhelming terror you were feeling, sinking its claws deep in your battered soul, holding you in a death grip. You were past the point of a panic attack, now fearing a heart attack may be what does you in. At this point you wondered if that would be a mercy over whatever awaited you down there.

Forced breathes rattled from your lungs, erratic and strained as you stared into Strade’s expectant eyes, knowing his patience was rapidly diminishing. As much as you wanted to get whatever was coming over with, your legs lost the ability to move, your body denying every command your brain was giving to take the first step.

Hesitating a moment too long elicited a brutal tug from Strade, effectively ending your indecision as you were sent tumbling down after him. You whimpered as you felt the barbs of the collar tear into your flesh. Small rivulets of blood snaked from each fresh wound, dripping down your shoulders, back, and chest to strain the collar of your shirt. As a rare act of mercy, Strade caught you, his thick arm acting as a barrier between you and the concrete you were plummeting head first towards.  For once you were thankful to be within the monster’s grasp, a sore chest and aching shoulder from where he grabbed you were far better than any injury you would have attained from the fall.

Consumed by a rush of adrenaline from the tumble, you neglected to realize your hands had latched to Strade’s arm like a lifeline. Embarrassment flooded you, quickly prompting you to release your hold on him. He laughed at the flush on your cheeks, your body jostling along with the rumble of his chest. His hand relinquished its grip on your shoulder, leaving behind angry red fingerprints, as if he had seared your flesh with a mere touch. His newly freed hand moved to tangle itself in your hair, eliciting a whimper as his nails dug into your scalp. Each place his body made contact with yours felt like it was burning.

Without warning, he roughly brought the side of your head to his lips, the stubble of his cheeks scratching your skin as he smashed his face against yours, taking in a deep breath. Excited puffs of breath tickled your ear as he spoke.

 “Hurry up now,” his voice was gruff, but the words came out in a sing-song manner, “Don’t start misbehaving now, it would be a total bummer if you had to miss out on this, (Name)~”

With a wistful sigh he released his hold, leaving your momentarily reeling as you stumbled back, trying to reclaim your baring’s. Strade didn’t give much of a chance to do so, continuing on his way with another yank of the leash, forcing you to scramble after him once more.

Your body gave an involuntary shiver as your feet touched the chilly concrete floor. Strade flipped the lights, causing you to recoil at the sudden brightness. Your eyes grew watery as they struggled to adjust, but when they finally did you wished more than ever you could have just remained in the dark.

Though you hadn’t been in the basement since the week of your capture, everything was just as you remembered it. Horrible memories flooded your mind as you took in your surroundings, your brain assaulted by flashbacks of months prior. All the same home appliances and tools still lined the back wall, typically innocent devices most people used for repair jobs and building projects that no one would take a second glance at were this a normal basement. In Strades hands however, they became tools of destruction and torment, capable of the vilest atrocities.

You heard the loud whirring of the freezer off to the side before you saw it, the outdated device still valiantly chugging away as it preserved god knows what on its rickety inner shelves. The noise it spewed was so grating you wondered why he didn’t just replace the damn thing, or at least try and fix it. Near it stood the work table that housed his buzzsaw, looming ominously as it waited patiently for its next use (whether that be for flesh or for wood, who was to say?).

Witnessing these normally mundane items again made your chest hurt, a deep, indescribable level of horror spreading through every inch of your body as you struggled to reacclimate yourself. You were sure this place would haunt you as long as you lived, whether you stood in it or not didn’t matter.

Your throat went dry as you stared at the dark stains that littered the floor, remnants of various human’s bodily fluids. Blood, vomit, piss, and everything else that may leak from a human corpse was so continuous and abundant that there was no hope of the marks ever diminishing. Something told you Strade didn’t seem to mind, however. If anything, seeing those stains probably brought him some level of happiness, acting as pleasant little reminders of all the slaughter he had committed, a trophy for the lives he had stolen.

And there, smack dab in the middle of the basement stood the support beam he had tied you to, effectively barring your escape from this place. Witnessing it again was bad enough, but as your eyes locked onto it your heart started racing once more, your terror hitting unprecedented levels at the realization that there was a body there, tied up and trapped just as you once were.

At first you thought maybe you were hallucinating, seeing some phantom version of yourself your mind had conjured under the extreme stress you were facing. But as you continued to stare, noticing the slight rise and fall of their chest, hearing the small wheezes coming from their direction with each motion, it became apparent they were no figment of your imagination. Long hair fell from their slumped head, obscuring your vision of their face, but judging by what you could see of their body they looked to be around your age, similar to your build. You couldn’t help but wonder if you shared other features, had the same eye color, or maybe a similar facial structure.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Strade picked them because they reminded him of you.

Witnessing another human in this state made your stomach turn. It wasn’t so long ago that you were in that exact situation, and seeing them there helpless and oblivious to what lay before them filled you with the distressing urge to try and rescue them. If you could only run to them, untie their bindings and embrace them, let them know you were there for them and that they would be ok… Stupidly wisheful thinking, but maybe a miracle could still happen and that sweet lie would come true…

You shook your head slightly, dispelling the thought. No, it was all a tragic pipe dream, the fact they were here meant they were as good as dead and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop that.

“Hey!”

Strade barked, breaking you from the spell you were under. You jumped to attention, your wide eyes turning to him to give him your full attention. His scowl lessened at your recognition, “I know it’s all very exciting (Name), but pay attention when I am talking to you, alright?”

“Sorry,” your mouth barely formed the word, spitting it out so fast you wondered if it was even understandable. You were still in shock from being in such a terrible place, your brain lost in a fog as it struggled to comprehend why you were here, what Strade wanted of you, who that person on the floor was, and if you would make it through the day.

He sighed before stepping closer to you, irritation still lingering in his features. You fought every urge telling you to bolt, your body jolting as he gently patted your cheeks. After a few soft pats to garner your attention his strong hands continued to cup your cheeks, cradling your face in his palms. His skin was warm, the sweat from his hand moistening your skin as his thumb traced absentminded circles across scars he had created.

“Strip.”

The command didn’t register at first, making him lose patience. As you stood stock still his brows began to knit, foot tapping a bit as he waited for you to comply. After several seconds of inactivity on your end, he snapped his fingers in realization, his expression relaxing as something donned on him.

“Oh wait, it’s probably hard with the collar, right? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

From an unseen back holster, he brandished an imposing hunting knife, one that you would remember anywhere. It was the same one he tormented you the day he met you, the feel of it on your skin seared into your memory for all eternity. It had done a brilliant job keeping you at bay when he first imprisoned you, serving him well as the main tool that broke you.

Seeing it again was all too overwhelming, all too horribly familiar. Your body quaked, tears starting to flood your eyes, making your vision waver. Your lips moved, your throat struggling to speak, fighting to come up with something, anything that may stop him from using it on you. But ultimately there was nothing you could force out, so you just stood there blankly, flapping your lips in a failed attempt at self-preservation.

“What’s wrong?” Strade pouted, pulling at your collar, forcing you closer to him. You could barely feel the pain through your terror. “If you have something to say, you should say it. Or are you just so thrilled by all this that you can’t form a coherent thought,” he tutted, “Ah, I know the feeling well (Name), but don’t suddenly go mute on me! I want to fully enjoy all of your reactions, so don’t hold back. Think of it as your gift to me.” You shivered as he placed the knife under your shirt, cutting away haphazardly at the thin fabric, uncaring that he was nicking your flesh in the process.

With his body so near, the only sound you could focus on was Strade’s labored, rasping breathes as they rattled from his throat. He blithely ripped what was left of your clothing from your body, leaving it discarded in torn heaps on the ground. Thankfully he spared your underwear, but as his fingers languidly played with the strap of your bra, you wondered if he wouldn’t also reconsider letting you keep what remained of your decency.

“Tonight will be so good, meine Haustier,” his voice sounded hoarse, thick with anticipation as he hovered over you, nuzzling his face into your hair, “… This reminds me a lot of the night I brought you home. Maybe I am just feeling nostalgic, having you down here with me again, but it’s hard not to get wrapped up in such fond memories.”

He chuckled, “I’m thankful I was able to reel myself in back then and keep you, no matter how much I wanted to do otherwise.” He pointed his knife to the unconscious body on the floor, “This one I brought here today won’t be nearly as fun as you were, so I don’t want you to feel jealous, alright? You’re where you are for a reason, just as they are where they are for a reason. Mein Liebchen, I’m so glad I can share this moment with you...”

He pressed in closer to you, an unmistakable bulge in his pants grazing the exposed flesh of your leg as he did so. You both shuddered at the brief contact, though his reaction was for reasons far different than your own.

“This intimacy is nice, don’t you think? Sharing your passions with those close to you is what meaningful relationships are allllll about.”

He pulled away from you slightly, pressing the blade of his knife under your chin. Wincing at the briefest of contact with the blade, you raised your head to avoid slicing of your chin, stopping once you were eye to eye with Strade. Your noses nearly touched as he took in the features of your face, smiling at the sheer horror reflected in your eyes.

“And I want to remind you just how passionate I can be~”

He spun you around, giving you an abrupt shove. Unable to keep your balance you fell forward, your knees colliding with the stony floor. A hiss of pain slipped past your lips at the contact as Strade kneeled down next to you, tangling his fingers once more in your hair. With a sharp yank, he pulled your head up, directing your attention to the far corner of the room.

With his guidance, your gaze landed on something new.  A cage you couldn’t recall ever seeing filled your took up a sizable chunk of the side wall, making you wonder how you missed see it to begin with. How he got such an unwieldy contraption down the stairs previously without your notice was also lost on you. The thing looked far too heavy for one person to easily transport, even if it came in pieces.

It looked incredibly sturdy, each side comprised of thick, imposing iron bars. The cage was moderately sized- large enough for people to sit in, but not so large that it would be a comfortable arrangement. At a glance, it seemed to be made for a dog, but the girth of the bars and thick padlock on the door were completely unnecessary features for a canine, even the largest and most aggressive dog breeds wouldn’t need something so robust to keep them contained. Strade must have had it special made, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who it was made for. You clenched your fists, fighting the queasiness that this new facet of the day brought to the table. You knew the cage shouldn’t have surprised you as much as it did, but you couldn’t help but be a bit addled by it. You briefly wondered if there was a limit to how much he would spend to fuel his sick intentions.

The cage sat off to the side, out of the way of the main walkway and slightly hidden behind the stairs so that it wasn’t immediately noticeable, but it was still close enough to the rest of the rooms fixtures that anyone trapped inside would have a clear view or what was happening around them. Which you figured was the point. What better seat for an unwilling audience?

“I originally bought this for Ren, but he was much easier to house train then you were.” Strade laughed, removing his hand from your hair to clap you on the shoulder. He turned his gaze to Ren who stood by the cage expectantly, waiting to fulfill his role in the nights unfolding misery. “Why don’t you show her inside, Ren? Get yourselves all comfy for the show.”

With a quick nod, Ren scampered in before you, giving you just enough room to squeeze in beside him. Nestling in, he turned to you with a strange mix of fear and anticipation in his eyes, patting the area next to you with a small smile on his lips.

“Come in, (Name),” he looked up at you through his lashes, bashful despite the situation he willingly crawled into, “There’s plenty of room.”

Strade gave you no opportunity to refute his invitation, dragging you along the floor by the collar until you arrived at the cages entrance. You gagged as the spikes dug into your flesh, your fingers attempting to find purchase and pull them out. But your grip kept slipping, the blood that coated each metallic link making it impossible to pry away.

At the entrance, Strade quickly unlatched your adjoining leash, pushing the side of his foot against your ass to shove you into the cage, treating you much the same way you would a misbehaving dog. He slammed the door behind you the moment your limbs were barely through the door, preventing you from backtracking. He hastily secured the huge padlock after he did so, effectively trapping you and Ren inside.

“I know you’ll watch, but I can’t trust her,” Strade spoke to Ren, kneeling down so that he was eye level with the two of you, “Latch her collar to the top bar, I want her focused.”

Ren was quick to follow orders, contorting himself around you so he could bind you to the cage. Part of you hoped he would show mercy, sneakily attaching the collar to a lower bar on the cage to give you more breathing room. As you felt the spikes dig farther into your skin that dream dashed from your mind. You choked back a sob as you heard the clasp click into place behind you, Ren planting a fleeting kiss to the top of your head as he did so, his way of begging forgiveness for the pain he was helping inflict

Sitting with your back completely straight, you kept your legs tucked under you, the full weight of your body supported by your knees. The slightest bit of slouching, leaning, or turning your head would plunge the spikes into your already torn up neck, amplifying your suffering. Locked into place, you were left with no choice but to sit at attention.

Maybe you could have unclasped the collar yourself for a bit of reprieve, you were sure after some blind fumbling you could figure out how to free yourself. But stuck behind a formidable lock with Strade on the other side, what would be the point? There was no place for you to run to, and if you disobeyed Strade at this point you were a sitting duck. A heavy sense of resignation settled in your soul. You no longer fought the tears that came to your eyes, letting them freely dribble down your checks to land in soft drops on your lap.

With no hope of escape, that left you with one option to get through this-endure.

“Überraschung,” Strade exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as he stared down at you with wild, manic eyes. “What a sight this is! I must say (Name), even though your overall your obedience has improved, you still have quite the rebellious streak, don’t you?” He leaned down to get a better view of you, breathing deeply as his face began turning red from excitement, “Not that I don’t like when you get feisty, training and domesticating wild animals is something I take great pleasure in after all. But I have to say, seeing you like this?” He released an elongated, low whistle. “Schön. Keeping you has been worth it for moments like this. You really are a treat, behavioral issues and all.”

He exhaled as he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes never once leaving yours. “This is good, natural even. You belong here, (Name). Chained up like that… You’re right where you are supposed to be.”

His words were shaky, his composure slipping as his tongue trailed his bottom lip. The flush of his cheeks was now also creeping down his neck, ardent lust seeping from his expression. You shivered. Were it not for these bars separating you, you loathed to think what atrocities he would commit against you in this amped up state.

You bit back the retort that threatened to spill from your quivering jaw, biting so hard on your bottom lip you tasted blood. You hated him, loathed him with your entirety, but you also understood that one misspoken word was all it would take for you to be swapped with whatever unfortunate soul was tied to that pole. Despite it all, you still wanted to live. Clinging to the hope that someday you would get the chance to leave this place behind and return to the life that was stolen from you.

Making your freedom a reality was your daily affirmation you repeated to yourself, the one thing that truly kept you going. You made a promise to yourself that Strade would someday turn into nothing more than a horrible nightmare, a dirty smear in your past, and you very much intended to keep that promise. You would someday live out the rest of your life happy and safe, surrounded by friends and family, people you loved and who would love you in turn. Maybe you would even get married, have a kid or two.

Part of you knew thinking that way was foolish, and it usually caused you more despair than bringing you any true peace. But even if it was a silly dream, it was all you had. Strade has already stolen everything else, so you clung to your dream as your only salvation, relying on it as a means of survival.  

You had to make it through this, you had to get away and rebuild yourself from the shattered pieces Strade had broken you into. Not just for yourself, but for everyone he had ever murdered and brutalized. It was the only way you could beat him. It was the only way you could win.

“Well, no point in making any of us wait any longer,” Strade announced as he turned on his heel, making his way over to the slumped form in the center of the room. Your heart went out to them as he directed his full attention their way, staring down at them with a crazed, bloodthirsty smile. “This is pretty new for me too, ya know? Usually this is ‘me’ time, moments I can work and enjoy myself with the new friends I bring in in peace. But having a live audience? That’s sure gonna add some thrill to this.”

He turned his attention back towards you and Ren, his face glowing in excitement. “And I figured what the hell! It’s Christmas, right? Why be greedy when I can share in the celebration!  Ren already loves watching my little home movies, so I thought, ‘why not do a special live performance for my two favorite individuals?’”

Your body lurched in horror as Strade abruptly kicked his hostage square in the stomach, the force of it waking them with an agonized groan. You gasped as they coughed in pain, spit and blood sputtering from their mouth as slowly they came to. You watched on in morbid silence, a frown spreading across your lips when as you noticed the dawning horror that came over them. They were no longer in an ignorant fog of sleep, fully aware now that something truly dreadful was about to happen to them. 

Terrified recognition filled their eyes when they landed on Strade. Instantly they started to cry, whimper and plead, leaving you to wonder just how badly things went down between the two of them before you all ended up down here.

Trembles wracked your body, each quiver faintly clanging the metal of your collar against the cage. How you yearned to deafen your ears, gouge out your eyes, or will yourself away from what was unfolding before you. The mere thought of witnessing the oncoming torture, reliving your own capture through this doomed sod…  it was all too much. If given the opportunity, you would have done anything to flee and hide.

But there was no running from this. You couldn’t turn away. You couldn’t do anything at all.

“Hey buddy, calm down!” Strade spoke in a light hearted manner, invading the captive’s personal space as he crouched down in front of them. “Don’t you know it’s Christmas? Since you were looking so sad all alone at that bar last night I decided to play the role of Santa and give you a little gift! I took you in out of the goodness of my heart, because no one deserves to be alone on the holiday, right? And look,” He roughly grabbed their chin, forcing their tear stained face towards your cage, “I even brought friends to assure you wouldn’t be lonely! Pretty thoughtful of me, huh?”

You averted your stare as soon as they made eye contact, unable to stand the sheer hopelessness reflected in their forlorn gaze. Their whimpering and pleading continued, unfettered by the dialogue Strade was droning on. The desperation in their voice as they tried to reason with the most unreasonable man on the planet was making your skin crawl, irritation setting your face into a scowl. Couldn’t they see how amped up Strade was? Were they really so deluded to think their incessant begging would do them any favors? Did they not realize their cries were just exciting him more?

Eventually, you squeezed your eyes closed, wanting a break from it all even for a few seconds. Their naivety was driving you insane- a cruel reminder of the person you once were.

Suddenly, an ear splitting scream pieced the air, causing your eyes to fly open. The blood in your veins turned to ice as you saw Strade’s signature knife protruding from the captive’s leg, his hand still wrapped firmly around the handle, wriggling it further into their meat. The blade was buried deep, deep enough to cause true damage, and the blood that gushed from the new wound quickly gathered in a morbid puddle beneath their legs. If left unattended, you were sure they may bleed out, dying in slow agony.

“Oops, maybe I went a bit too deep there,” Strade nonchalantly spoke, pulling the knife carelessly from their leg. They released another sharp cry at the blades exit, squirming in pain and misery as blood sputtered from the gash. Strade continued to speak, unfettered by the gore that splashed against his leg, “But you weren’t listening very well when I was trying to talk earlier, so hopefully that’ll help you focus. I’ll try and be more mindful though, don’t wanna do too much too soon. You’re the star of the show today buddy, can’t have you dipping out on us before we even get started.”

Strade cut a piece of fabric from their victim’s shirt, tying it sloppily around the gaping wound he inflicted. It wasn’t placed as a means to help them so much as a way to help staunch the bleeding to keep them lucid for as long as possible. If there was one thing Strade hated, it was his fun being prematurely cut short.

“Well,” Strade slapped his knees, lifting himself up to his full height, “Usually I like to get to know you a little better before we get to this point, but what with my special guests and all, we don’t have as much time as I would have liked to become acquainted.”

Your eyes trailed Strade as he walked over to a tripod sitting off to the side. Your eyes widened as he reached for it, setting it up with skilled expertise as he had done so many times before. His captive stared blankly at the camera, clearly confused as to what awaited them. You couldn’t decide if their ignorance was a tragedy or a godsend. If they knew this was their final moment of relative peace before their violent end… Would they try an appreciate it, or would that just bring them more dismay?

After the main camera was set up to his liking, he made his way towards you and Ren. You stiffened at he approached, a new spike of anxiety rising within you as he fiddled with something in his pocket. It was your turn for confusion now, staring in perplexion as he pulled out another small camera, setting it up so that it faced your cage. After some finagling to get it just right, the small red light on it turned green.

“There we go,” Strade smiled, tying his signature bandana around his mouth after he completed his setup, his wide eyes gleaming with cruel intent, “Figured the viewers at home deserved a little special something, too. Smile for the camera you two!”

Shame flushed your exposed body as you did all you could to avoid looking into the camera’s nebulous, black lens. You curled yourself up as much as physically possible, revolted by the realization that other sickos were tuning in, getting off to an impending murder and your humiliation. How many people were on the other side of that small orb, desperately waiting for Strade to begin so they could scratch their fucked up itch? How many pairs of eyes were roving over your barely clothed, bloody body right now, pleased for such an enticing appetizer before they dug into the main course? You didn’t know what disgusted you more, Strade himself or the fact that he had enough ‘fans’ out there that were of a similar mindset, who avidly watched and supported him enough that he could live comfortably off live-streaming his slaughters.

After some brief adjustments (apparently your camera wasn’t focused enough, the ‘fans’ were complaining about not having a clear shot of ‘the bitch’s stupid, sniveling face’), Strade eventually made his way back over to the main camera, flicking it on and checking the feed on a nearby laptop to make sure everything was looking as it should. Once he was satisfied, he hopped in front of the camera, the jovial smile on his face noticeable even behind his mask.

“Frohe Weihnachten an alle! Oh wait,” he fished around in a drawer beneath his laptop, eventually yielding a slightly wrinkled Santa’s hat that he plopped gleefully upon his head. “That’s better! How is everyone doing this fine, festive holiday?”

Strade’s eyes scanned over the chat, laughing here and there as he read peoples responses. “I see you all noticed the new edition to the party. Ren, (Name), why don’t you give the nice people watching at home a smile?”

Refusing to acknowledge his deluded request, you kept your eyes to the floor, focusing on anything else but the situation you were in. Your legs ached from your balancing act, the impression of the cold cage bars long since deeply engraved in your skin. You grimaced when you tried to reposition them, the bastard could have at least thrown a towel in here for you.

Strade responded to a few more ‘questions’ before releasing a low whistle. “Hey now,” he chided, his voice holding a warning edge to it “I’m happy to share my cute pets with you, but some things only I get to see, yeah? Get your minds out of the gutter, the requests for the day aren’t for them, they’re for our latest catch.”

Strade scratched the back of his head, looking towards you with an amused twinkle in his eye.  “I think you two may be a bigger hit then our new friend! A little rude to our guest, but I can’t say I blame the masses.” He gave an exaggerated shrug, laughing a bit as he shook his head. “But enough talk. Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

He made his way over to his tool wall, his finger trailing the varying allotment of devices he owned. He stopped briefly, looking back towards the camera with lidded eyes. “So what are you guys feeling? Should we bust out our old friend the drill, or maybe something a bit more colorful, like the new handsaw I purchased the other day?”

The captive began to struggle with renewed intensity against their binds, thrashing about in a final attempt of escape. Their cries for help turned into wailing screeches, screaming and cursing as loud as they could muster in the hope that someone would magically hear them and come to their rescue. You hissed under your breath angrily, wishing they had never been caught, wishing they could spend Christmas with their family, wishing they would just shut up, wishing this would all end.

“Ohhh, we got a lively one~” Strade purred, grabbing a tomahawk off a nearby hook as he eyed chat, “and I agree with the majority here, it’s best to start off slow. Let’s begin with some little stuff and work up to the main event, really taking our time to enjoy this wonderful moment together.” He eyed the tool in his hand, picking at a remainder of a price tag that stuck stubbornly to the handle. “You may not believe me, but I only purchased this little guy to help with some pesky overgrowth in my yard, not to use on my company. Guess it can’t hurt to test out its sharpness and strength beforehand though, can it?”

Your heart palpitated as Strade stalked his way over to his cornered victim, mutely praying that some act of god would occur that would keep them from being decimated. He towered over them, thoughtfully musing on where he wanted to begin, what part of their body he wanted to mutilate first. He absent mindedly tossed the tomahawk from one hand to the next as he considered his plan of attack, sizing up his prey as if they were nothing more than a slab of meat. You struggled briefly against your binding in last ditch effort to shield yourself you from the ‘show’. But like a cruel child jabbing their fingers into you when you weren’t paying them enough attention to them, the spikes gave you a torturous reminder of the position you had been assigned to play in this performance.

Oddly enough, the stab of the protrusions didn’t hurt nearly as much as they did before. Maybe your body was adapting to the cruelties Strade subjugated it to, or maybe you were finally becoming desensitized to everything you had been forced to experience.  Maybe someday it would get to the point where you could be completely unfeeling, like a robot just going through the motions as Strade lived out his wicked life, you forcefully in tow. It was almost a comforting thought, whatever adjustments your body and soul had to make to assure your continued survival, so be it.

However, if the pit forming in your stomach and sweat drenching your brow as you watched Strade inch closure and closure to his victim was any indicator, you were sure something inside of you would always hold on to amity, reminding you just how painfully human you were, heart-breaking empathy and all.

‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,’ you chanted in your head, fresh tears carving slick trails down your cheeks when Strade kick their leg, digging the heel of their boot harshly into their stab wound. Bright red bloomed around the fabric covering the wound, their screams growing gravelly the longer they strained their vocal cords. You did your best to hold back the worst of your sobs, rogue sniffles and hiccups escaping despite your best efforts. If there was an afterlife, you hoped that theirs was full of nothing but warmth, peace, and all the things they love. It was the least they deserved for this.

You were vaguely aware of Ren repositioning himself next to you, his head nestling against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, shielding you slightly in an almost protective manner. Pressed so close, you could feel that he was shivering, his heart beating a mile a minute as it thrummed against your skin. Whether it was from fear, excitement, or both, you were unable to say.

Strade turned around, giving you one last mirthful glance as he readied his tomahawk over the toes of his captive’s right foot.  Though they squirmed intensely, he held a death grip on the limb, keeping them from breaking free. “Make sure to pay close attention now,” desire radiated from his demeanor, voice husky as narrowed eyes briefly roved your restrained form “and don’t feel too neglected over there, I’ll make sure to save some of the fun juuust for you once I finish with our pal over here.”

His eyes darted to the camera, shooting it a look of mock sympathy “For my eyes only of course, you all understand right? Thank you for being here friends, and Frohe Weihnachten für mich!~”

He slammed the blade down. A blood curdling scream erupted from the center of the room as their toes disconnected from the rest of their foot, signaling the beginning of their end.

And you sat like a statue, cold and rigid as your unwilling eyes bore witness to each act of savagery.

[hearts4golbach]

Can you do a tara yummy x reader where all the fans feel bad for jake since tara and reader got together when in reality jake and reader are the best of friends?

Clearing the Air.

a/n:

should I have proofread this? prob. it's js a blurb though <3.

not proofread

warnings:

established relationship, nothing else.

word count:

0.6k.

"There's nothing to worry about, babe." You kissed Tara's forehead before going back to folding freshly washed laundry. "You know me and Jake are fine. Don't let people get to you."

"I just don't want problems between you and Jake." she sighed, plopping down onto the bed next to you. she began putting laundry away.

"Look, we'll get it cleared up on his live. I'll talk to him beforehand, too. does that sound okay?" You looked at her, the concerned look on her face subsiding.

"Okay, thank you." she gave you a sad smile before pecking you on the lips.

"But, so what if I had beef with Jake? Who should care? the only thing they should care about is the fact that I could kick his ass." you joked, trying to make light of the situation.

you and Tara worked together to get the rest of the laundry put up before getting ready to head over to Jake's. the three of you were going to stream with him and try Crumbls weekly menu.

the supposed drama between you and Jake confused both of you. you and Jake had been streaming together for years and still continue to do so. why would people think you two had problems?

you could feel Tara's anxious energy on the drive over. she looked out the passenger windows lost in her own thoughts.

you gently rested your hand on Tara's upper thigh. "Don't stress, Tar. it'll ruin your time."

"I know, sorry." she interlocked her fingers with yours. "I just don't want shit to get fucked up."

you rolled your eyes. "I promise, that's the last thing that'll happen."

you arrived at Jake, Johnnie, and Carringtons house shortly after. you rubbed her thigh comfortingly before getting out of the car. you opened the passenger door for her and walked inside.

Jake greeted both of you with a hug. "Hey, jake!" you greeted. "Can we talk real quick?"

he placed his hands on his hips. "Yeah, of course. what's up?"

"People are saying we don't like each other cause of Tara. the rumor is actually getting bad. should we address it on stream?" You asked. Your only goal was to comfort Tara.

"shit. if it's getting bad, yeah." he scrunched up his nose. "bitches need to mind their business." Jake muttered sassily.

he got the crumble cookies ordered. they came in no time, and the three of you made your way out to Jake's car.

"What's up guys, how's everyone?" Jake greeted. "we have something serious to adress when more people arrive." he raised one eyebrow.

'wait why is y/n here?' someone commented.

'y/n??!??'

'y/n showing up is crazy.'

"guys, shut up about y/n for two seconds." he laughed. "yeah, of course y/n is here."

"yeah guys," you stuck up your middle finger. "fuck all of you." you said jokingly.

Jake smacked his lips. "to clear up some of these rumors, me and y/n are literally best friends. yeah, I dated Tara. that was a little while ago and now she's dating y/n. that's it. i have no problems with either of them."

Jake wrapped his arm around you, causing you to smile. "yeah, how about them apples?" you rebuttled ironically.

[sethsclearwater]

request: Ok really dunno if you're still taking requests for Seth but just hear me out, what about a second part of that amazing imagine where Seth's s/o is pregnant BUT they have to tell the boys about the pregnancy and all of them get like so freaked out bc now is prob that Sam knows from the wolf link or something like that lol Love your blog btw ✨💗

notes: this is so cutie🥺

warnings: none

link to part 1 and part 3

…

it had officially been 48 hours since sue confirmed your pregnancy. you didn’t really know what to do with yourself. you and seth were busy trying to figure out what exactly you needed to do over the next 9 months to ensure everything was ready when your baby arrived and the looming thought of telling the rest of the pack that you were pregnant remained in the back of your mind. 

seth had managed to get out of patrol yesterday, telling everyone that you were sick and needed him there. and, although it worked initially, you failed to realize how much the rest of the pack would be concerned for your well-being. 

you and seth were sitting on the couch in your apartment, watching home renovation shows while you lay curled up in his lap, one of his hands holding you to his chest and the other drawing mindless shapes on your abdomen. 

“i don’t think we can hide here much longer.” seth broke the silence and you exhaled, laughing softly at his comment.

“i don’t think so either.” you mused, peeking up at him to see him smiling softly and he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

you smiled, “maybe we just go over to emily’s and do it? i don’t like hiding from everyone.” you suggested softly.

he nodded, hugging you tightly into his chest before continuing, “i agree, let’s do it.” seth stood up, helping set you down on your feet before grabbing the remote and clicking the tv off. 

you grabbed your phone and texted emily, letting her know that you and seth would be coming over in a few minutes. luckily for you, her house was a short 5-minute drive from your apartment. 

you grabbed your purse, seth helping you into your jacket before the two of you left the apartment and got into the car, heading over to emily’s to finally break the news to everyone.

–

as you pulled into emily’s driveway, the boys ran out the front door, jumping off the porch before seth even had a chance to park the car. the two of you exchanged glances before bursting into laughter at the situation. seth gave your hand a quick squeeze, “i love you.” he murmured and you nodded, cupping his jaw in your hand and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. 

“i love you too.” you murmured back, smiling softly at him before you both got out of the car. 

quil was the first to get to you, immediately pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you up to spin you around, “what happened to you?” he exclaimed, “seth wouldn’t tell us anything!” 

“easy quil - you’re gonna squish her.” seth teased, coming to your rescue and wrapping his arm around your waist, resting his palm on your abdomen protectively. 

you laughed softly, “sorry. i think it was the stomach flu.” you mused, not sure if you should be breaking the news right then and there or wait. 

quil paused, taking a step back then and looked you up and down, “oh my god.” his jaw dropped when he saw the way seth’s hand rested on your abdomen.

 embry seemed to pick up on it then too as he murmured, “no fucking way.” 

you could feel the blood draining from your face and you turned into seth, looking up at him for help and he just laughed softly, “i swear i didn’t say anything babe.” he reassured, his gaze moving over to the porch as emily and your brother, sam, stepped out. 

“you’re pregnant?” quil questioned, much more loudly than you would’ve liked and you winced, looking over to your brother nervously. 

sam wore a blank expression and you nodded, turning your attention back to quil, “yea… i’m pregnant.” you confirmed and seth’s grip momentarily tightened around your waist as you gnawed at your lower lip nervously, curling further into his side.

“you’re pregnant!” embry and quil exclaimed, quil immediately pulling you out of seth’s grip and into a, much more gentle, hug. you could hear emily’s laughter from behind quil and you peeked over quil’s shoulder to see emily’s smiling face as she made her way down the porch and over to you.

“congratulations y/n,” she cooed as quil released his grip on you so she could hug you. you smiled, returning the gesture and hugged her back, “how far along are you?” she asked softly, gently releasing you so she could press her hand to your abdomen, feeling for any sign of a baby bump.

you smiled, placing your hand ontop of hers, “only a few weeks,” you murmured, peeking up at her and she smiled, nodding knowingly. “we just found out on monday.” 

emily pulled you into another hug before turning around to your brother, “sam come over here and congratulate your sister!” she called before adding, “and don’t you dare stress her out!” 

you looked up at the sound of your brother’s chuckles, smiling softly at him as he approached you, gently pulling you into a hug. “you’re okay?” he asked after a moment, gently releasing you so he could look you up and down. 

you nodded, “‘course i am.” you reassured before looking over your shoulder to grab seth’s hand and pull him over, “got the best baby daddy in the world.” you joked and sam rolled his eyes but you could see the way his lips almost cracked a smile.

“whatever you say.” sam muttered, still keeping up his usually tough-guy facade, before asking, “are you coming in? or are you two still hiding from everyone?” emily smacked his shoulder at that and you laughed, allowing seth to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his hands on your hips and giving you a soft squeeze. 

“don’t be rude! of course they’re coming in. aren’t you y/n and seth?” emily cooed and you nodded, peeking up at seth who also nodded and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before allowing emily to lead you into their house, the boys’ excited laughter echoing around you. 

despite your anxiety about the whole situation, everything turned out alright. the boys spent the rest of the afternoon fussing around you while you and seth finally relaxed a bit, happy to know everyone was just as excited as the two of you were to be having a baby.

[my-lungs-hurt]

• The Need For You •

Nsfw, AFAB Reader with she/her pronouns, König established relationship, Cheating (which I don't condone), Praising, Degradation, Dom!Simon, Sub!reader, no use of Y/N. Idk if I misspelled anything or missed tags, but here we are. Enjoy! <3

Ps. It's prob bad, but I had fun writing it

König is still overseas. He hates it you're all alone in the apartment. It's only been a week since his deployment, but he always worries about you.

Thirsty, you begin to boil the kettle, waiting until it whisles. Before it does, three knocks echo from your door. You weren't expecting company, but you open it, only to find Simon standing there with a duffel bag.

He crinkled his eyes—his way to smile with his black surgical mask—and you move out of the way so he can come in. "I didn't expect to see you here." You call behind you, taking the now screeching pot off the burner.

"König wanted me here as soon as possible." He replied, looking around the place. He looked a bit quizzical before he spotted the 'guest' plaque hanging on the door.

He made himself at home while you poured two cups of steaming peach tea. He didn't say much when he came back out, but under the remainder of his raccoon paint, he looked tired as hell.

"You don't have to be out here with me. I can watch TV while you sleep." You slide his cup over to him, along with sugar and milk. He added the ingredients in, thinking for a moment, before shaking his head no.

"Okay, but you don't get to complain about what we watch." You smiled kindly, as you made your way to the living room couches. Browsing the channels, you settled on Bones, a crime-solving show.

It wasn't long before Simon noticed two things. The first, your behavior. Bundled up with a thick blanket on your lap, secluded in the corner, your hand holding your head up.

The second, was the state of the apartment. It wasn't hard to notice the takeout containers in the trash you haven't thrown out yet or the dishes you haven't done. You knew Simon took heed of it, but you didn't pay attention to him.

He knew König liked to live tidily. Being in the military, you learn that living any different is uncomfortable, for lack of a better word.

A phone rang, breaking the comfortable silence you shared. Simon reached in his pocket, pulling out his burner. He answered, excusing himself to gain privacy.

His conversation lasted way longer than he expected. By the time he walked back to the couch, you were asleep, your arm holding your head up.

Simon carefully sat next to you, not wanting to wake up, but he didn't expect you to snuggle up next to him. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you are drawn to the human heaters of the 141.

--

You wake up in the arms of Simon, the full moon lighting the dim room. The oven's clock read 2:13 in the morning, and some random show playing quietly on the flat screen.

Simon's arms are wrapped around you tightly, reassuringly. He looked so peaceful, aside from the smudged black paint that now looks like a bandit mask.

You stare at him while he sleeps, one of the only times he looks at peace. "Staring is rude." His gruff voice cutting through the night.

"I'm not staring." Your voice whispers.

"What is it then, hmm?" He sounds amused.

"Just..stargazing," You reply.

"Stargazing?" He looks at you, his head raised up from resting on the arm rest.

"Yeah." You feel the blood rush to your face, the red in your cheeks hidden by the night.

"Is that so?" You feel his hand caress your jaw. It's warm, and calloused.

Simon's phone rings again. He didn't look at the caller's ID before answering. "Hi König." he answered, swiping his thumb over your cheek. "How are you?" He asked.

After a moment, he replies, "Yeah, she's right here." And hands you the phone.

"Hey König," You greet, sitting up from the couch.

"Hi, Maus. How have you been?" He asked, voice full of care.

"I miss you. Simon is great company, though." You smile at the phone, wishing he was with you. Simon reaches behind him, clicking the lamp on, illuminating the space.

"I know, Maus. I'll be home before you know it." He tries to comfort.

"You don't know how much I missed your voice." You can't help but let your mind wander, letting your legs cross at the thought of König between them. This doesn't go unnoticed by Simon.

"Horny are we?" Simon asks, loud for even König to hear. You feel his hand graze your thigh. He doesn't try to be subtle about any of it.

"Can you put me on speaker, meine Liebe?" König asked.

"You're on speaker." You announce, shifting around in your seat.

"Are you thinking what I am?" König asks Simon.

"I think so, mate." His voice firm.

"How needy is she acting?" Hearing that makes your face turn red.

"Very." Simon simply said.

"Are you horny, Maus?" König directs his question to you, his voice low.

"..yes." You answer, a bit embarrassed at his abruptness.

"Do you want us to fuck you?" Simon asks for König.

"Us?" You draw your eyebrows together in confusion. The statement in general throws you for a loop.

"It's simple sweetheart. I fuck you, and König tells me what to do." Simon smirks, as he sets the phone on the coffee table.

"What do you say? Or can you wait a couple more weeks until I'm home?" You look between Simon and the phone, thinking about it before nodding your head yes.

"Use your words." Simon mutters.

"Yes. I want to." You give consent, looking at Simon's heterochromia eyes— a starry blue in his left eye and hazelnut brown in his right.

"That's my girl." König praised. "She likes to be praised, just f.y.i." A fun little fact by König, for the people of the crowd.

"Lay down f'me." Simon demands as his hand meets your waist. He kisses you softly and slowly, like he isn't sure about it. But soon, his sweet kisses fill the air, and Simon's hand runs along your soft skin.

You break the kiss, moving your head to the side as Ghost starts to kiss along your shoulders and neck. His lips—oh, his lips felt like grace against your skin. His gentle kisses trailing along your jaw.

He pulled you closer by your waist, so you were flush against him. As his hand moved along the kisses he left, he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. His thumb running along your bottom lip while his eyes bore into yours.

You tugged on the hem of his shirt, "Take it off." You unbuttoned one or two buttons of your own shirt, just enough to slip it over your head. Your shirt and his laid in a small pile on the floor. Your nails dragged down his torso while you drank in every inch of his physique.

The way you react makes him weak, though he wouldn't show it. "You're so pretty, just for me." Your praise clashes with Simon's demeaning front.

They way his body flexed and reacted to your touch drove you wild. He looked like a Greek sculpture, carved from marble. Like he was made in the image of Farnese Hercules, by Glycon of Athens.

Your hands traced the scars across his body. All his scars, even the ones dotted across his face, made such a beautiful constellation. And his crooked aquiline nose—broken more times than written in his file—a waxing cresent to fill your night sky.

"She loves to be teased." König's voice sing-songs, adding to the ever-growing tension with the Lieutenant.

Simon never breaks eye contact. Following the ethereal contour of your body, he savors all of you. He admires you, he can't get enough.

His fingers hook over your waistband, slowly pulling your shorts off. Every inch of you waits for a simple touch. As much as he loves to kiss your neck, he kisses your calves. Stalling before going up to your knees and thighs. He could kiss every square inch of you without ever growing tired.

He kisses your inner thigh, leaving a hickey or two in its place before moving to the other leg. You whine at his antics, arching your back for Simon. It's too bad he enjoys the teasing more.

"Not so fast, lovie." Simon purrs. His hands holding your hips to the couch.

"Please, Si.." You plead.

"Please? I didn't even start and your begging for me already?" His hand finds the lace hem of your lingerie, teasing your skin beneath it, knowing you wouldn't do a thing about it.

Simon grasps the fabric, pulling it off even slower than he did with the shorts. You squirmed against him, steadily growing more impatient.

You softly buck your hips toward him, trying to get something, "Not so quick, love." He purred to me, but subsequently earning a not-so-quiet response from König, too.

"Please, get on with it." König all but growled from the phone, making Simon roll his eyes in response before turning his attention back to you. He pulled them completely off, tossing them toward the rest of your wardrobe.

"You heard the man." Simon slyly smirked, ducking his head down between your thighs. He kisses your inner thighs, closer and closer to where your vulva was, already wet with arousal.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath fanning against you, patiently waiting for König to tell him what to do. "Eat her out." Was all König said before Simon's tongue flattened against you.

If someone told you this would be happening, you would laugh at them. You had a little crush on the man when you first met, and apparently he did too. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, making you focus on every single inch Simon's hot tongue made contact with.

He licked one big stripe from your enterence to your clit, flicking his tongue upwards to catch the clit again. His tongue danced across you, music to his ears.

"Finger sie." König sounded out-of-breath, regardless, Simon teased you again before stretching you out with his fingers.

You could have mistaken this man for a prisoner. He was eating you out like it's his last meal. Your soft moans and whimpers are fueled by his skilled tongue and hand. Just slightly quieter, you begin to hear König breathe harder, shallower as groans slipped from his mouth.

The more Simon kissed, the more pleasure you felt. He knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn't hard to tell you were close, the way you became the little slut you were. Your moans getting whinier by the second, the way your back arched for more friction.

"Hold out for me, yeah?" Simon mutters, his pace still unforgiving.

You groan in frustration, knowing by experience how ruthless König can be. "Simon, please?" You beg to him, but Simon doesn't acknowledge you.

"Such a good girl." König praises after his silence. His praise go straight to your head, and it really doesn't help your control.

"What are you begging for, Hase?" You hear the message he tries to convey behind is cunning smile.

"Please let me cum, Lieutenant." Your voice, pleading, finding some semblance of strength.

"Cum for me, baby." Such a simple sentence has the ability to hold so much power over you. "-not you though, König." He added, staring the phone down in hopes he got his attention.

"What-" König sounded suprised.

"Did I stutter?" He waited until König answered no, which he did almost immediately.

He watched as you came down from your high, massaging your thighs gently. "She likes to-" König was cut off by Simon.

"Praise her? I will praise her when she fucking deserves it." Simon hung up on König, a flash of anger crosses his eyes.

"Get on your stomach or I'll do it for you." He didn't leave much of a choice, but being manhandled was a strong contester.

When you do, Simon doesn't waste any time pulling his grey joggers off. "You're a fucking slut, aren't you." He growls while grabbing a pillow to put under your hips.

"Simon.." You whimpered.

"Why are you with him? I'm so much better than König. I'm faster than him, I'm stronger, endurant." He rambled. You felt his hands rub your hips and waist.

You felt the head of his cock rub up and down your cunt before he slowly putting it in. He went slow, allowing you to adjust before he started to move. You heard him groan, his hands pulling your hips back to meet his.

He started slowly, but it wasn't long before he couldn't wait any longer. "You seem jealous." You smile, dropping from your hands down to your elbows.

Simon didn't speak, but his actions were screaming. What's louder? His hand threading through your hair, pulling you towards him? Or calling you a good girl, for taking him so well?

[subskz]

Tall girl anon back. Omg I’m not sure about the picture, it probably is but in my memory I feel like it was more visible, but then again memories can be wrong. And although being into the “masculinity” of body hair in certain places is one way of interpreting it, I don’t think it’s the masculinity part. I think it’s just the whole sort of naturalness(???) of it. Humans are animals and things like pubic and pit hair are signs of hormones and sexual maturity and the presence of it just seems very sexy in a “raw” sort of way that idk how to describe. Anyway….

So I need to get this thing off my chest somewhere and my friends probs don’t wanna hear it so imma do it here since we’re all horny on here anyway.

These memories keep coming back to me… I went to a concert at one point, not gonna say when or who, all that’s important to know is that it was a kpop boy group. And I had a sex dream immediately after. This legit never happened before. I’ve had sex dreams, but not after concerts. But anyway… I’d never noticed in videos, but onstage (I had great seats) one of the members was visibly smaller than everyone else, by a lot. I looked it up and the next shortest member was three inches taller than him (he’s 5’6”) and something about seeing this skinny, short, very attractive guy (especially in comparison to the rest of his members) snapped something in me. In the videos, you don’t really notice it but in real life…. Wow…Like, I need to have him. He is so small and for whatever reason that makes me want him even more. And I feel so weird for that very specific feeling but the memories keep coming back and I can’t get rid of it. I need to hug him, I need to pin him down, I bet I could pick up his tiny little body— he’s so skinny that I refuse to believe that he weighs more than me. And this feral urge consumes me. I want to hold his face in my hands and tell him he’s so pretty but I also want to see his face twisted in pleasure and gasping with his eyes rolling back. I want to hold his little hands in my larger ones in the most wholesome way possible and I also want to see how far my long fingers could wrap around his neck. I want to kiss him and love him and hold him and ruin him. Or even just have the most vanilla sex possible just as long as I could hear him moan with his pretty, high-pitched voice. I’m not gonna try getting myself off because tbh I don’t think that’ll be enough to fix this and as much as this feeling is frustrating, I’m not entirely sure I want it to go away. Anyways……

Sorry for the big rant. But if I don’t let this out it may consume me more than it already has.

hihi it’s good to see u again! if there really is a highqual pic of lix’s happy trail out there i hope we find it someday 🔎 i completely agree w you abt finding body hair “sexy in a raw way” that describes it perfectly! there’s nothing more attractive than humans in their most natural state, no makeup, unshaved, their natural scent etc ♡_♡ slight tangent here but when lino’s skin isnt covered w that awful pale smoothing filter and u can see his real complexion with all his little bumps n acne scars…..literally makes me drool

the way this concert awakened smth in you that u already thought had been awakened LOL it seems like it was quite the lifechanging experience 😽 he sounds so adorable 5’6” men are kinda the perfect size…plus him having an itty bitty frame on top of that so you could probably pick him up like he’s weightless and manhandle him if you wanted to…that’s the goal isn’t it <3 being able to eclipse a boy’s hands w your own and scoop him up in ur arms and hold him up against the wall, making him feel small, safe and helpless all at the same time

i hope ur brain stops tormenting you w these thoughts soon but i cant even blame u for being so hooked on it he sounds like a dream for ppl w size kinks ❤️‍🔥

[th3-0bjectivist]

The Salvation Day Interviews (2 of 2) with musician Anthony Tadlock

     Dear listener, this is part 2 of 2 of my Salvation Day Interviews with Anthony Tadlock, A.K.A. t-underneaththeradardancing on Tumblr. For reference, Part 1 is here. Without further ado let’s start picking T’s oddly poetic and musical brain once again...

    Mr Tadlock, SD’s style of music seems quite distinct and doesn’t sound exactly like any other band I’ve heard of. When you two record music, what is the specific style you’re aiming for? Do you and Ms Vita Rhie Quintanilla align on any favorite influences that heavily sway your sound? Do you two enjoy the same type of music outside of SD? How much does classical or modern music affect your own expression as musicians?

     whether we are recording - playing live - just fucking around (what passes for "practice/rehearsal ") we dont actually aim for a style - early on we talked in general about "goals" we agreed that what we aim for is transcendent magic healing - and we will settle for being in tune and not sucking - influences many and varied but both agree if on a desert island - and could only have one album it would b miles davis "kind of blue" - we both enjoy a wide range of music...

     everything we hear - have heard - from classical to punk rock influences us - we also play a fair amount of "covers" live - a typical example would be "i know places" which is a kind of dirge by lykke li - vita had never heard it before - it was a staple in my live performances at the time - vita listened to what i had done w it and it became a staple of early performances having morphed into almost a stax type r&b - like many songs we play - we worked out the arrangement during performances with little or no discussion about arrangement

     I find that some of the most effective musical groups out there are duos. There’s just something that seems more concentrated and concise about a duo’s ability to wrap an album in a tight bow. Compared to other musical projects you’ve worked on in the past, do you prefer dealing with one single other creative mind… or many others… and what are the disadvantages of both from your point of view? When you’re playing guitar and she’s singing, for example, how do you deal with the inevitable issue of adding percussion to ‘enhance’ a track or live performance?

    at this time there are actually 3 members of SD - the 3rd is london - he plays guitar and bass - is engineering / producing our next project - at various times we have had a 3rd musician join us for a song or 2 - and there is maggie umber the artist, who created our web site - a video and some behind the scenes stuff - which is not precisely answering the question - i understand about duos though - with 2 minds/ souls it is easier to keep the connection - the unspoken - and be as 1 - with the whole being more than the sum of - it was only in making the album and making hard choices / dealing with forced choices and realities that i realized my true role / gift as a guitarist/musician is being a catalyst for magic to happen - to digress - often at open mics - peeps play along from their seats - impromptu collabs occur - sometimes the whole place becomes the stage - today im gonna prob play 1 song w the host/emcee - we have played 2x together - 1st time was cuz someone who had someone die that they were close to requested she play hendrix purple haze and she asked me if i could - tho i have heard the song countless times - the last time i played parts of it - i was maybe 15 - but it’s a simple structure - i said give me a minnit - went outside tried out chords as i remembered and something resembling the guitar parts - spent maybe 5 minutes total - came back in and said yah sure but u have to sing - no rehearsal - loose and nothing like note for note - ffs i dont play anything note for note or exactly the same way twice –

    anyway - it’s like that w vita - she often asks - can we play xxx - i say sure - look up chords if i dont know and ...w vita it has been consistent magic from the start and while not effortless by any stretch - we both put everything we have into the music as we play - whether we are loosely playing in my dining room / her living room - out in the street - onstage - sometimes we think there is no audience and a neighbor will later say they liked it - or look up on the street and realize we have attracted a small audience - in terms of the limitations - especially when vita isnt playing guitar - partially i am accustomed to playing solo just me and guitar - have developed different strategies for compensating / filling holes in the sound - that said we have wanted a percussionist from day 1 - on the album and ep we used synthesized drums / percussion which can be hard cuz we are a bit quirky - so in some ways salvation day will always be vita and t at the core - tho our 1 performance w london was ez and in some ways our best - and playing w him is ez and natural - unfortunately no recording

    I have but one final query and it’s a general one, so buckle your fuckles. I’m curious Mr Tadlock, what do you think of the state of modern music? When I listen to Salvation Day, I hear a group that is 100% genuine. You’ve got an interesting story and your entire act and delivery is sincere… when I turn on modern radio I just hear utter nonsense. Nonsense that is often dumbed down by multimillion dollar corporations that are trying to turn the talents of others into a saleable product. Do you think the vast majority of modern music is even healthy for people, and is there a conscientious effort on your behalf to keep the presentation pure with Salvation Day?

     the state of modern music ? idk tbh - it’s a scattered and confusing landscape - like always - much of wat is out there is crap - but then again - i lissen to 60s station on sirius when on road trips w the unpoet and much of what i hear is pretty crappy and i love the 60s lol - same same modern music which i get sporadic exposure to via tumblr instagram and youtube - hearing while in cafes or in ride shares - SNL ... and every once in a while an absolute gem is heard so is "mainstream " pop /commercial music "healthy" - fuck if i know - i remember 1st listening to top 40 am radio in 1st grade - loved the chipmonks (Alviiiiiiin!) singing witch doctor - a one off "flying purple people eater " lots of "novelty records " when previously listened to moms opera and frank sinatra - beatles werent on the radar yet but beach boys - mostly vacuous but fun - have gone thru phases - only listened to jazz and opera for almost a decade - have compulsively listened to 1 album or artist for periods - was any of it "healthy" maybe - it fomented trance and being outside myself - sometimes music is entertainment - sometimes just background for a lot of people - but also a way of coming together - a way to express confusing/conflicting emotions - i could critique modern music as being cookie cutter and meaningless - but no more than say doo wop dang a langa ding dong indeed or has there ever been anyone more transgressive than little richard then again chuck berry stooping to my dingaling ffs

     so did we do we trynna keep it "pure" w salvation day - fuck yah - i mean how fucking audacious (pretentious) to call it Path of Sacred Art - i thot our producer understood and they did sorta but - and i love our album but at one point i almost walked away from it - the process slowly grinds - yah rough edges r smoothed but - a case in point - the epitome of early salvation day - the sacred art side was/is "reincarnation" something went terribly wrong in the studio - after spending waaaay too much time recording vita's guitar - and too much autotune on her vocal - her guitar track had a "glitch" making it unusable - by the time that was discovered vita was in davis again - covid was just about to go into the lock down phase ...it was expedient to hire a classic trained studio musician that the producer knew and could record studio quality on his laptop

     and tbh i still am not sure how much of the electric on it is actually me or if some was replaced w same studio guitarist - little dramas like this went on for months during the mixing process and much of the email text exchanges w producer were late night sleep ruining drama - in the interest of ever getting the album finished - vita - whom i gave ultimate decision making since they are her songs - deeply personal - she has literally shed blood (read her book) during the writing of performing recording , allowed almost all of her guitar to b scrapped - replaced by same studio musician - tho to said musicians credit - she did a good job of re creating vita - and if some of my guitar - we only talking about a few notes - was also replaced - she faithfully re created - tho i did go in studio one day a couple weeks after recording was "finished" and laid down a lot of riffs / repeating lines / solos and i was sooooo stoned i truthfully dont remember - in those daze because of intense constant pain - i used what in retrospect were enormous amounts of thc and cbd - no other drugs or alcohol but i was high 24-7 and rarely got as much as 3 hours sleep a night - anyway - so yah we did our best to keep it pure - and there is nothing cookie cutter about the album

     T !!! JFC !!! Thanks so much for your time and your FANTASTIC riffing here on Tumblr. Listen to Salvation Day here on YouTube or here on Spotify. Their website is here. If you liked this post, please spread the word about SD and consider reblogging this set of interviews. And if you haven’t done it yet, scroll to the top and middle-bottom of this post and smash play!

[pasdasin]

Entanglement ch 3

levi x reader

summary: meeting again after a while

cw: cussing, violence, bad writing and grammar, prob more (lmk)

an: I love writing this so much! Lmk if y’all think I should post on ao3

read under the cut

previous — next

“Jean unhand her,” Levi commanded, his mind moving a million miles and hour.

“But captain-” Jean was silenced by a glare coming from the captain. Begrudgingly, Jean let you go and you quickly stood up. The two of you stared at each other for a second before you pounced on Levi. Beating his chest weakly as you screamed incoherently. His team prepared to remove you from him, but the guilt was all over Levi’s face. You let out a sob before you wrapped your arms around him. Without any other word to his team, the two of you left towards the master bedroom.

Levi sat you on the bed while he stood up by the door. All it took was a simple look at you before he felt everything rush back. The many nights spent together and the painful memories of his friends.

“You still look the same”

“It’s been seven years, Levi…” You said after calming a bit. “I thought you were dead.”

“So did I” An eerie silence fell amongst you two. The two of you just inspecting each other. Levi looked much older despite his age. Only 26 yet had the face of an old man. Strange really, how much fate had changed both of your lives.

“Did you get the package to?” Levi questioned you. Your eyes widened. “I’ll take that as a yes”

“Why are you here?” You finally spoke up. Your gaze burned holes into him.

“We are both in danger. I needed a place to lie low.” Levi turned his head to stare at the broken mirror on the wall adjacent to him.

“Oh,” you sighed. “You want to stay here?” Levi let out a hum. “Okay, they can stay in…” your voice trailed off. “I thought all three of you died.” Levi turned to you again before wordlessly leaving the room.

----

Levi returned to the living room to direct his squad. The boys will stay in the room on the left, the girls the right. Levi then spouted out some basic rules that they would have to follow. After a while of his mini lecture of the underground, a knock at the door occurred. Levi ordered them in a hush to go to their assigned rooms before he made action to open the door. As he was about to turn the door knob, your hand grabbed his, putting a finger telling him to hide. The moment Levi disappeared and you made sure that the cost was clear inside, you opened the door. Outside stood Conrad.

“Oh my dear sorry for not letting you know I was stopping by!” His voice boomed throughout the house.

“Oh sir! I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, please come inside.” You let in your boss, putting up a cheerful facade. You pulled out a drink for him as he made himself comfortable on your broken couch.

“I see this couch needs to be replaced. I will be sure to find someone who can do that for you.” You handed him the drink and offered a smile as a thank you. “Now the reason for my visit. You see I thought I could discuss your future in the business. You by far are the most popular girl in the whole joint. I was thinking that you could continue to be my bookie while also only being visited by my top dollar connections.” You froze at the suggestion.

“You want me to prostitute myself out?” Your voice was meeker than you liked it.

“Well I guess that’s one way to put it. This is a one time condition It’s just once, tomorrow.”

“I don’t know what to say…”

“Okay I will decide for you, as your boss it is a command. You will sleep with Titus O’lare.” Your boss put a hand on your shoulder. “If you are lucky, he even offered you above-ground citizenship.” With that, Conrad had left and you stood still in the living room. A hand touched your shoulder and you turned to see Levi.

[flokali]

seen ur hsr charas and there's only one thing in my mind....

h-how u got all of the mats?? 🗿🗿

(i mean yea, there's "ways")

oooohhhhh but prob just good management of the trailblaze power/fuels or r they just leveled up? (i meant the others,,, (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠) ) like genuinely curious fufu

Hello, hello~

To be completely honest, the main reason I’ve been able to advance in the game so fast is because I’ve been sick and resting - so no class nor work for me - which means I’ve had a lot of time to do nothing other than playing. It’s partially why I’ve been able to reach lvl 36 in under a week, compared to Genshin where it took me almost twice the time to do so;;

When it comes to mats, I’ve set up a bit of a system for myself!

UTC because it got… really, really long - I did not think this game would have me this excited, alas here we are - almost 760 words of me just rambling about it…

I try getting exactly what I need rather than grinding and hoarding as many mats for the future; if I need, let’s say, 3 character ascension materials then I’ll set the rewards to get me exactly 3 mats!

Since I’m at Equilibrium lvl 2 and only have until lvl 3 to set, I know I’ll be getting 2-3 drops per round, so I’ll set it to use exactly the needed amount of Trailblaze Powder so as to not waste it.

I’ve also used up a lot, and I mean a lot, of the Trailblaze Fuel, which means I haven’t had to wait as much time to have the Trailblaze Powder filled up again.

Then there’s the local shops for each location, you have them in Herta’s Space Station, Jarilo-IV, and the Xianzhou Luofu! They use unique world currency that you have to get via quests and progressing through the story, but they have a lot of materials for both Light Cones and Character Ascension! There’s also the rewards you get from spending a certain amount in each shop where they give you Stellar Jade, Wrap Tickets, and other materials.

Another pretty good way to level up your characters fast is to claim the Level up rewards Pom-Pom gives, some of the drops are Trailblaze Fuel, Travel Guide, Adventure Logs, Refined Aether, Condensed Aether, Wrap Tickets, etc.

Then there’s the classic Embers Exchange (the little blue things you get from the Wraps), where you’ll get Trace and Light Cone ascension materials from 4-12 Embers, this resets each month so you have plenty of time to get them!

Other than that, I tend to work on all the characters at once when it comes to leveling them up and ascending them; I don’t prioritize my main team from the others, though I tend to treat my favorite characters a little better, I don’t know if that has helped me much but I thought I might add it? I do tend to try and always have all my characters at a certain ATK and ascension level - mostly because the game relies a lot on having different characters with different paths and elements. I kind of, just click add and see if I have enough for them to reach the next level, lol.

I do tend to neglect Relics a lot, mostly since I can’t really get the five star sets yet and I’d rather wait until I can get my hands on the good stuff than waste my resources on something that I’ll be replacing, so I can’t give much advice for them (T^T);; I tend to mostly use the ones I get from chests and completing quests/missions but it’s worked quite well so far!

These are all my tips and reminders for material compiled into a list:

1) Don’t hoard yet! Try getting only what you need, that way you’ll save Trailblaze Powder and grind for different materials.

2) World Shops are your best friends, they’re a quick way to get your hands on materials and give you rewards the more you spend on them.

3) Don’t be too afraid of using your Trailblaze Fuel, it’s there for you to use!

4) Some characters are easier to grind for, some are harder - some use the same materials as others, some will be the only character that needs a certain material: make a mental (or physical) list of characters that have similar materials and choose who to level up first and if you’ll grind for both of them or not.

5) Learn to prioritize what talents/cones/characters you want, even with all of what I’ve said; there will be times a character will be slightly behind, that’s okay - just focus on having fun and on the ones you’ll use the most.

6) Do both the Simulated Universe and Hall of Echos, if I had to pick one I’d recommend Herta’s SU since it gives weekly rewards for points and hands out EXP and materials as well, it also doesn’t use Trailblaze Power so you’re free to do it as many times as you wish.

7) The game is incredibly generous, it’s not afraid to give you materials the more you progress in the story and levels.

Hope this helps;; it’s kind of (very) long but I racked my brain to give as many tips as possible!

[reidbae]

DAY 21: Birthday Sex — romantic sex w/ dom!spencer reid

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: You were doing work on your birthday, and your husband isn't happy about it. When he asks to let him take care of you instead, who are you to say no?

pairing: dom!husband!spencer reid x sub!fem!wife!reader

warnings/mentions: lotsss of petnames i'm prob gonna miss/add one but use of baby, baby doll, sweetheart, honey, sweet girl, and my love, vaginal sex, implied unprotected piv sex, lots of praise, def stuff i missed but whatever, superrr short and cut off i'm so sorry

wc: 1.5k

a/n: this was supposed to be w hotch and spencer but yk i had to do my best man for my bday today <3 sorry this is so short but i hope y'all enjoy anyway <3

You were sitting at your desk at the BAU, working tirelessly on paperwork.

It was your birthday, and you had just finished having a small party with your coworkers in the round table room. You had been working all day prior, and your teammates had all but begged you to stop working just to celebrate.

You gave in for a while, allowing yourself to have fun with your friends. But the workaholic in you wouldn't allow that for very long, and you were right back to where you were before the party.

You were scribbling away on the latest case file, when a hand landed on your shoulder. You hadn't spoken or much less looked up since you had sat back down at your desk, and the physical touch was fairly out of the blue.

"You're still here, honey?" a raspy male voice rang out from behind you, rubbing your shoulder as he spoke.

When you looked up, your eyes met your husband's, Spencer Reid's. He was still dressed up from the party, wearing a grey suit, a white button down shirt, and a patterned tie. You smiled up at him, giving him a nod.

"Oh, yeah. I just have some stuff to finish up. Do you need something?" you asked curiously, tilting your head at the taller man.

"You to go home. Come on, baby, you should be home laying down, not doing work," said Spencer in a caring tone. You rolled your eyes at him, letting out a small sigh.

"I knew you were going to say that," you said with a small smile, but your tone was a bit annoyed.

"Well, it's true," Spencer smiled.

"You're still here," you reminded him with a shrug. Spencer put his tongue in his cheek, giving you a smirk.

"That's true. But it's not my birthday," Spencer reminded you. Spencer crouched down to your level, putting a hand on your thigh. You felt yourself blushing at the move, looking down.

"You need to stop overworking yourself like this, sweetheart. You're going to burn yourself out," Spencer told you, rubbing your thigh in slow circles. "It's only worth pointing out because today of all days, you shouldn't be doing a thing. These case files can wait until tomorrow. Please, honey."

You were looking up at him now, biting your lip. You let out one more sigh, before nodding your head. "Okay."

Spencer gave you a small kiss on the cheek, moving a hand up to rub your arm. "Attagirl. Now, will you let me take you home?" Spencer asked.

You gave him another nod, and allowed him to pull you up from where you sat at your desk. Without allowing your hands to touch even an inch more of work, Spencer put your jacket over your shoulders, his hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the bullpen, through the lobby, and into his car.

Spencer's hand was around your waist as the two of you got into your house, and he closed the door behind the two of you.

Spencer wasn't kidding about you relaxing after work. He did all that he could to make sure you were comfy. After you showered, he got you into your pajamas, and carried you to the bedroom afterwards, laying down with you in bed.

You were laying next to the brunette genius now, his arms wrapped around your body. You were blushing as you laid with him, adoring the attention more than you'd like to admit.

While the sweetness was nice, you were feeling something a little more...

Lewd.

And it was your special day, so who would your husband be to deny you?

"Um, Spencer?" you said in a shy voice. You said it so inaudibly that you weren't sure if he'd even heard you, but he responded only seconds later.

"Yes, my love?" Spencer said, playing with your hair as he spoke to you. You cuddled into him a little more, needing to feel him close to you.

"Can we, um—Can we—" you fumbled, doing your best to get a grasp on your words. Even after being married to Spencer for such a long time, you had still been very shy when it came to asking for sex.

Luckily, however, Spencer always knew just what you were asking for.

He smiled down at you and nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Of course, baby doll. You don't even have to ask," Spencer whispered.

That was all it took, really.

Spencer moved himself on top of you and began to kiss you slowly, making sure you were comfy before progressing anymore. You gave into him, obviously, reciprocating his kiss with a soft, slow passion.

One of his hands was being used to hold himself up while the other was cupping your cheek, his lips beginning to move faster as the seconds went by.

Soon enough, slow burned to fast, soft turned to hard. Spencer's lips were attacking yours with a passion that only lived in couples with unbelievably special bonds. Spencer knew just what you needed, like the genius was tapped into your mind.

Maybe he was.

All you had been wearing was a thin evening gown and underwear, so it was no surprise when Spencer's fingers danced their way up your dress. You let out a little whine when he did, your face heating up in lust.

"Is this okay, baby? Can I do this?" asked Spencer as he played with the hem of your panties. It took you less than a millisecond to nod, eager to feel his hands on your body.

Spencer pulled your underwear down and out of the way, discarding it on the floor somewhere. Spencer moved his hand even higher, and began to rub your clit with no delay.

You whined and whimpered as the brunette rubbed you in slow circles, your legs closing around his hand.

Spencer let out a low chuckle, using his free hand to open them again. "None of that, baby. Let me see you," he said, but his tone wasn't teasing at all. It was loving.

You whimpered again and complied, opening your legs even wider for him. Spencer smirked down at you and gave you a kiss, which you took as a sign of his approval. "There you go, sweet girl. Such a good girl for me."

Spencer made you come a couple times just by rubbing you, knowing just what to do to make you feel good, after having done it so many times.

When he decided to stop, you were a little sad, but your face of worry was quickly replaced by one of desire. Spencer had pulled his fingers away from you, and stuck them into his mouth.

He chuckled as he heard you moan in response to what he'd done. He removed his fingers and kissed you again, letting his tongue run across your lips. "How was that, baby doll?" Spencer whispered.

"G- Good. Really good," you whined out.

"Mmhm," Spencer hummed down to you, smirking. "And would you like more, baby?"

You'd be a fool not to say yes.

When you nodded, Spencer removed his joggers with ease, leaving him in only his boxers. You felt yourself growing wetter at the very view of his hard cock through his boxers, licking your lips.

Spencer pumped himself up and down a few times before pushing himself inside of you, and you reveled in the view. Spencer only smirked at the obvious look in your eyes, before finally giving you what your body had been begging for.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Spencer asked as he began to move into you.

Like he even had to ask.

"Y- Yes, it does," you whined for him, the back of your head buried in the pillow. "Please," you begged, not even sure what you were really begging him for.

"What, baby doll? What is it?" Spencer cooed, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

You just shook your head, not having a word to say to him. Somehow, though, Spencer understood what you wanted, or didn't want, for matter, and nodded.

"It's okay, my love. I know what you need. Just relax and let me take care of you, okay?" he said in a soft tone.

You were happy to let him do so.

As you came undone for the millionth time and Spencer for the first, you had never understood more what it was like to be loved. There was nothing and no one that could ever replace Spencer Reid, come hell or high water.

And you were perfectly fine with that.

Spencer talked you through your high, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you released all over his cock.

"You feel so good."

"Taking me so well."

"Such a good girl."

And it didn't stop there.

When the two of you had finished, Spencer got off of you and laid down next to you again. He wrapped his arms around you once more, finding your body in a loving embrace.

"I love you so much, baby. I wish you knew how much," Spencer whispered to you, running his fingers through your hair again.

"I- I do, Spencer. I do," you giggled. "I love you, too."

Spencer laughed, too, pulling you closer. "You better, birthday girl."

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