#gambling at The Tops save me

[houses-snowglobes]

well everything kinda sucks rn im gonna go gamble in New Vegas to numb the pain

[thateclecticbitch]

"OMG we're gonna miss you we really want you to be there!" Yeah! I wanted to be there too! Don't take it up with me, take it up with the director. Oh! That's right! You can't. BECAUSE HE QUIT TWO WEEKS AGO.

[natalieironside]

So I used to be a pizza deliver driver, and that was pretty great for me; it made me feel like a video game character doing Quests. And when you started your shift as a driver, you got a wad of 15 singles for making change which was deducted from your tips at the end of the night. And this was back in the very early 20teens so $15 American just so happened to also be the price of half a tank of gas and a pack of Marlboro reds, so it was often also a sort of interest-free loan.

Now, a trope in pornography which was once so common that I myself have never actually seen a genuine portrayal of it but only seen it parodied runs thusly: A brave hero is delivering a pizza to some beautiful person who, upon receipt of the pizza, says, "Unfortunately I don't have any money; could I perhaps cover the cost of the pizza with sexual favors?" And always the hero agrees to this Faustian bargain which I'm sure must seem quite reasonable to you uninitiated civilians.

But, see, I'm making minimum wage. I have no savings. And I already spent my bank on half a tank of gas and a pack of Marlboro reds. So I'm $15 in the hole, and do you know what happens when you don't cash out at the end of the night? The manager calls the cops, and the cops come to your house. Mr. Domino is gonna get his $15 back by hook or by crook. I seen it happen. So if I accept the beautiful person's modest proposal, I'm mortgaging future tips against the $15 *and* the price of the pizza--which can get up there, depending on the order--and if I don't fix those books by the end of my shift, that could get to be a real pain in my ass.

Just doesn't make sense, y'know, from like a business perspective. Maybe it'd be worth a gamble. Maybe if it was like a beautiful woman who was a service top and also a werewolf, maybe you roll the dice and hope for the hard 6. But you gotta be risk-aware, is all I'm sayin.

[chatonarya]

I think there's really not enough content depicting Karlan Trio as three weirdos who vibe with each other's weirdness. Especially and including Enciodes.

Beneath his perfect social facade, Enciodes is extra and kinda strange. He thinks it's funny to dress up as a pirate on his off-time to go to the beach. He regularly gambled his allowance away as a kid. He got sold to kidnappers as a child by Gnosis and ends the day promising Gnosis a future. He comments on the taste of the food he's being fed while he's captive and says he felt safer tied up when Gnosis cuts him free. He thought it would be a swell idea to empty his bank account to save Degenbrecher while barely knowing anything about her personality. He decided to try to make a Viscount owe him a favor by trying to position himself as a savior and cat's paw while also being "that guy's son from that backwater country." He decides to just enlist with RI as an operator like "Hiii, did you miss me? <3"

He tends to do non-business-related things in an over-the-top way, because he's apparently Just Like That.

Then we have Gnosis and Degenbrecher. Canonically, they're both outcasts from their respective homes even if for different reasons. They're both people who have internalized the pain of being ostracized and made it into strength, refusing to allow public opinion to affect them. This is common ground for them and I believe it forms part of their friendship and why they always have each other's backs even if they mess with each other. But on a personal basis...

Yep, they're kinda weird too. There's the fact that homeless orphan Degenbrecher says Gnosis has "lousy taste" when it comes to food. What does that even mean? Is he an omnivore crane who'll eat anything in front of him? Does he like spicy food (fun fact, birds don't have capsaicin receptors)? Does he like the most hardcore weird traditional Kjerag food? Does Enciodes always have to pick the restaurant when it's his turn? How bad must his taste be for Degenbrecher of all people to say it's "lousy"? He has a penchant for blowing things up and setting things and people on fire whenever he can, apparently just because he can because why be subtle when you can be over-the-top? He's a consummate actor yet can't be bothered with pleasantries. He has an intimate knowledge of etiquette yet chooses to be rude. He's a scientist and engineer yet forges weapons because it's the family tradition.

Degenbrecher? Almost goes without saying. She likes to fight avalanches because survival is fun. Enciodes got her to come along to Kjerag partly by telling her she might be able to 1v1 God and she says so to God's face. She's the strongest person in the country but knows animal midwifery and does farmwork. She's an honorary member of the Kjerag fishing association. She has a great time roleplaying a witch because acting as the final boss means everyone will come at her and spends a long time trying to figure out how she can fit the hat on her head because she's that into it. She grins like a maniac when she gets the chance to destroy the trap house walls; she probably gets a kick out of wanton destruction just as much as Gnosis does. She goes on a Looney Tunes Chase after Trilby Asher with a single-minded intensity without a second thought. She has a cell phone but almost never uses it because she hates being contacted.

I would just love to see more content that shows them just being a bunch of total freaks with each other while vibing harmoniously all the while. Let me see Degenbrecher helping Gnosis blast new mineshafts because explosions and debris are fun. Let me see Degenbrecher throwing the boys over her shoulders like potato sacks to escape some building that's on fire because Enciodes was a cat who knocked something over for the fun of it. Let me see them trading parts of their meals. Let me see them going on vacation together and accidentally causing a minor incident just by being themselves.

Let me see them just doing stupid fun stuff together like the besties that they are.

[strawberrykidneystone]

tonight

summary: after a long day, there is nothing like plopping down on the lap of your scary girlfriend

a/n: save me sevika…. SEASON 2 IS SO CLOSE AHHHH

tags: 2nd person, fluff, alcohol, smoking, gambling, poker

ao3 version

after a long day of haggling with customers and delivering orders from your mechanic shop, The Rusty Nail, you needed a break. thankfully, one of Sevika's goons scurried in during the day to drop off a handwritten note from her:

The Last Drop tonight. Stop trying to pay for your own drinks.

-Sev

the note was written on a rough piece of scrap paper and it looked like there was a small heart that was drawn next to her name that had been haphazardly erased, which made you giggle. gently putting the note in a shoe box behind the counter that you kept all of her previous notes in as well, suddenly the day went by much faster with something to look forward to.

trudging into the tavern, you quickly walked over to the wooden bar and leaned your forearms onto the counter. you held up a hand to the bartender and they nodded, knowing your usual without you having to say it. while you didn’t frequent The Last Drop very often, they definitely saw your girlfriend often enough to make note of your order.

and of course, your drinks always went onto sevika’s tab no matter your pushback. oh well, the cost of your drink was quickly stuffed into the tip jar as appreciation.

your drink was set in front of you onto a napkin with a straw stabbed into the ice with a gruffness that was familiar in the undercity. you felt a pair of eyes searing into your back, feeling your girlfriend’s impatience from a mile away.

grabbing the drink and taking a quick sip, you strode over to the dark corner of the bar. like a beacon calling to you, there sat sevika slouched back in her usual creaky chair with a half-way burnt down cigar hanging out of her mouth, telling you how long she’d already been here. she was manspreading and glanced at her cards every so often, an unbothered aura surrounding her even though you knew that she clocked you the moment you stepped inside of the bar.

she had a tell playing cards that you’re pretty sure that only you had noticed. her right eyebrow quirked ever so slightly when she glanced at her cards, you would miss it if you blinked or didn’t know exactly what you were looking for.

that’s why you usually win at cards with sevika.

that and sevika liked letting you win.

the only person that she would let win against her.

you slipped your way through the crowd, keeping a tight hand over the top of your drink as you pushed through the maze of people. sneaking your way over in a very cat-like fluid motion, you stood in between sevika’s legs before perching on her left inner thigh.

sevika’s mechanical arm automatically wrapped around your waist and pulled you further up her thigh, close enough that the side of your torso was touching her chest. you wiggled your hips to adjust properly onto her leg, receiving a warning side-eye from your lover to behave. you leaned forward and checked the cards in her right hand, a perfect royal flush. she squared up her cards and stuck them down the front of your shirt, earning an annoyed look from you. she had a habit of sticking her cards somewhere inside of your clothing, insisting on having her hands free when you came over. it was a pretty full table, so it would be a while until her call anyway.

you set your drink on the floor slightly underneath her chair and leaned into her, resting your head on her metal shoulder. the cool bronze was a welcomed relief from the general body heat that was slightly stuffing up the bar. she ran her hand down your waist and squeezed the squishy flesh of your hip, the pointed tips of her fingers tickling your side.

you ran your hand over her mechanical arm, feeling the tactile textures for any imperfections or places that needed some TLC. finding none, you raked your eyes over her body to look for any new injuries from her own day of work. satisfied that she was completely fine, you pecked her cheek before settling back into her. she hummed in appreciation and reached her mechanical arm down, bringing up her cloak from freely hanging down from her shoulder to resting around your shoulders.

plucking the cigar out of the corner of her mouth, she stubbed out the lit end. you told her that you didn't mind her smoking even when you first met her, yet she still insisted on not smoking around you even as other patrons in the bar created a haze with their own smoking. the scent of nicotine reminded you of her and god she looked hot when she smoked. the two exceptions she made to this "rule" were when you begged her enough to shotgun into your mouth or after a particularly long love-making session, she would lean back against the headboard with one hand resting behind her head, a cigarette in her free hand and you tucked into her side.

one of the new faces at the table laid all of his cards on the table with a grin. the whole table leaned forward to see his hand, it was a perfect flush. sevika smirked and nodded to you, giving a playful tap to your hip. you dug her cards out of your shirt, flourishly sliding the cards on the table one on one. a collective groan came from the table as sevika barked out in laughter, the winning pot of coins being pushed towards her. she cupped your face with one hand and squeezed to make you pucker your lips and roughly pressed her lips to yours in a searing kiss. wrapping your arms around her neck and pushing yourself completely flush against her, chest to chest as you got lost in the kiss, your lips dancing in perfect rhythm.

parting from the kiss, she pressed the tip of her curved nose against yours and made deep eye contact with you, savoring the moment of winning with her favorite girl at her side, her gaze giving you butterflies in your stomach.

"c'mon baby, let's go home," she murmured and landed a playful smack on your ass, earning a squeak of shock from you. she held out her flesh hand to help you up, which you happily took and stood with her clock still hugging your shoulders. she stood up with a grunt and grabbed the bag of coins off of the table, tucking it into her side. she curled her around your waist and walked with you out of the bar and into the cool night with her winnings and the love of her life.

a/n: uppercase letters??? in my fanfic??? who am i

[sailorrhansol]

Hello hali!~ sweet & spicy established rs mingyu and reader dressing up as tuxedo mask and sailor moon for a halloween party!!🌙🥀

❀ Pairing: Mingyu x afab. reader

❀ Summary: It’s your first Halloween with Mingyu as a couple and when a power outage threatens to ruin your favorite holiday, Mingyu makes sure to save the night. 

❀ Word Count: 3,891

❀ Genre: Established Relationship

❀ Type: Fluff, Smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, recreational drinking at a party, brief mentions of gambling (poker), terrible Sailor Moon jokes/puns, reader gets a bit upset for stuff going wrong at a party, sexually explicit content including vaginal fingering, a little bit of cum eating, hooking up in someone else’s bathroom, Mingyu begs a little if you squint, heavy making out, lots of ass and thigh squeezing, Mingyu does help reader jump up onto the counter, a little bit of biting.

❀ A/N: I AM LITERALLY THRILLED THAT YOU ASKED FOR THIS. Mingyu is SUCHHHHH a good Tuxedo Mask. I wish I had done a little more with this, but at some point I need to commit to what I’ve written and be confident in it, so I hope you enjoy silly and a little spicy Mingyu and reader! 

❀ A/N 2: This is totally unedited - forgive me.

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliween

“Are you sure I have to wear the hat?” Mingyu pouts where he stands by the door, eyes wide and blinking at you. “It’s just going to fall off.” 

You put your hands on your hips, huffing in annoyance where you stand in the hall. Sweat drips on the back of your neck from rushing around the apartment to get dressed, and though putting yourself into the very itchy and difficult-to-get-into Sailor Moon costume will be worth it, you’re already worn out before the night can start.

Mingyu sees the way your brows pinch together. He grabs the hat in question from the arm of the couch, placing it atop his dark hair. He holds out his hands as if to say ta da and gives you a sheepish grin. “Hat it is.”

“Thank you, Tuxedo Mask.” 

“Prism power make your boyfriend do whatever you want,” he mutters under his breath, dropping his hands. You ignore him, instead appraising his costume. 

Looking at Mingyu up and down makes your heart flutter. He’s absurdly handsome outside of costume, but the well-fitted suit, elegant cape and even the top hat make him look even better. He stands near the door, chewing his lip as he lets you survey his costume, dark eyes wide. 

“You look really good,” you promise, crossing the space of the living room to your boyfriend. He reaches out toward you as you step into his orbit, drawn to your comforting touch. Wrapping your arms around his middle, you give him a squeeze, looking up at him through your lashes as you smile. “Really good.”

He smirks, his nervousness edged with the cockiness you know and love. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” 

“What do I get for allowing you to dress me up?” 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t want to do couples costumes.” 

“You’re right.” His hand drifts from your lower back to your ass, squeezing lightly. “And I wanted to see you in this little dress.” 

Rolling your eyes, you step away from him. He pouts as you do, watching you as you grab your back and point him toward the door to get going. “What?” he whines, trudging toward the door. “You look really hot in the outfit.” 

“Come on, we’re going to be late!”

Sighing, Mingyu follows your directions to the door, grabbing the clear glasses off of the catch-all to put them on and complete the costume. He frowns a little at the plastic lenses, squinting to see through them. Wordlessly, you grab his favorite pair of sunglasses from the catch-all, raising them up toward him.

“Really?” 

“I’m willing to make a concession.”

He grins eagerly, trading out the traditional costume lenses for his fancy designer sunnies. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Let’s go, handsome.” 

A stormy sky looms over the city. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolls. The chill wind makes the short skirt of your Sailor Moon costume flutter, a shiver sliding up your spine as Mingyu opens the door of the Uber for you to slide in. 

As the car drives, you lean over Mingyu and look out the window nervously at the darkening sky. It’s already late at night, but you can see the thick storm clouds threatening to break loose. 

“The party is inside,” Mingyu reminds you gently, sensing your nervousness. “It won’t get ruined.”

“I know. I just love Halloween, I don’t want it to rain.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, leaving you soft and out of breath. “It’ll be alright. We’re going to have a great time.” He points at the sky, accusatory. “Prism power go away!” 

Mingyu is the kind of love you thought you’d never have. When you’d met him at a bar all those years ago, you were sure he’d shake out to be another reckless decision, albeit fun. And it had been a fun decision, throwing caution to the wind and letting the charming, very attractive man take you home for the night. 

And then the next night, followed by breakfast the next morning. And then dinner and a movie, and coffee the next morning. Mingyu kept asking you to go places and you kept saying yes. Not just because he was unnaturally good at turning you into a mess late at night in your tangled, messy sheets, but because he was charming and funny. 

Trust has never come easy for you, but Mingyu has always risen to the occasion and exceeded your expectations. You feel a swell of affection for him as he slides out of the car and adjusts his costume, extending his hand to you with a grin. 

When you get out of the car, you stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his. You feel him smile into the kiss, hands resting on your waist briefly. When you pull away, you look up at him to see he’s already looking at you through his silky lashes. 

“What was that for?” 

“I just love you,” you quip. Lacing your fingers with his, you tug his hand toward the stairwell leading up to Soonyoung’s apartment. “Thank you for being my Tuxedo Mask.”

Mingyu flushes and smiles down at his feet. He lets you tug him along, hands linked. Music echoes down the stairwell, muted by the door to Soonyoung’s apartment. You let yourself in without knocking, immediately hit by the explosion of Halloween decor and music. 

Thriller plays loudly somewhere in the apartment. People fill out the entire space, making it cramped and difficult to navigate. Mingyu’s hands go to your waist and he pulls you to his chest, walking with you pressed close to him in the sea of people.

How Soonyoung ever manages to stuff this many people in his apartment is beyond you. You swear he doesn’t have a home that’s that large, and yet each time he has a party, you see more people than you’ve ever seen packed tight. 

Your friends are easy to spot in the corner, dominating the poker table space that Seungcheol has undoubtedly asked for. The man in question sits in a folding chair dressed as Jared Leto’s Joker, his crimson hair slicked back. He looks up and grins when he sees the two of you, holding out his hand for a fist bump while shoving chips toward the center of the table. 

“You two are cute,” he says, eyes drifting back to Jeonghan who is looking like the cat that ate the canary - and who is dressed like a ridiculous angel. “Want us to deal you in?” Seungcheol asks your boyfriend.

“Deal her a hand while I get drinks.” He squeezes your waist and kisses your head. “What do you want?” 

“A seltzer, please.” 

Jihoon looks up as you take a seat between him and Seungcheol. “Holy shit, he really does look like Tuxedo Mask. You weren’t lying.” 

“And why aren’t you in a costume?” You demand sharply, drinking in Jihoon’s jeans, black t-shirt and fitted ballcap.

“I am. I’m Jason Bourne.”

“Please.” You pick up your cards from the table, looking at your hand. “That’s not a costume and you know it. You literally wear this every day.” 

“Okay, well Vernon is in the same outfit so go yell at him.”

By the time Mingyu returns, you’ve won him a single hand. You feel his presence at your back, making you look up at where he stands close behind you. He grins and puts your drink down on the table, leaning over your shoulder to look at the cards you show him. 

He hums thoughtfully, hooking his chin between your shoulder and neck to watch you play. You motion for him to switch spots and let him play with his friends, but he shakes his head, content to let you try your hand instead. 

You’re not particularly good at poker. It’s a game that Mingyu taught you because he and his friends liked to play on Friday nights and he wanted you to feel included. Now, you tag along on Friday’s but instead of playing, you sit on the sidelines with Soonyoung, who is always eager to host games but isn’t exactly good at them.

The host in question appears out of the crush of the apartment crowd well into the game. He screeches happily when he sees you, bending down to press generous kisses on your cheek, which makes Mingyu grunt in annoyance. It earns him kisses on the cheek from Soonyoung as well, Mingyu groaning and shoving at the man dressed in the same tiger onesie he wears every Halloween. 

“Come on,” Soonyoung urges, pulling at your hands. “I want you to be my partner for haunted beer pong.”

“What makes it haunted?” You let your friend pull you out of your sweet. Mingyu swaps places with you, picking up your cards and winking playfully at you as Soonyoung tugs you along.

“Nothing, unless you count Chan lurking since he lost the first round.” 

“I definitely count that.” 

Chan is indeed lurking around the table handing out unwarranted advice to the teams playing beer pong. You eventually throw your ball at him and hit him in the head after he insists your elbows are too close to the table, earning a shriek of laughter from your friends.

You feel good, the early beginnings of a buzz taking over as you sip the seltzers Mingyu drops off as he checks on you between rounds of poker. When he’s had enough of Jeonghan cheating and taking all of his money, he slides his hands around your waist from behind and settles his chin on your shoulder, only detaching when you go to make a shot at a cup. 

Wonwoo comes around - dressed as a vampire - and holds up a camera, signaling for the two of you to stand together. You giggle as Mingyu scoops you toward him, dipping you backward for a romantic kiss just as the lights in the apartment go out and the music goes dead.

There are a few shrieks as a crack of thunder rattles the window. Mingyu leans upward, holding you close in the total darkness until a few people use the flashlights on their phones to light up the room.

Outside, the sky unleashes a torrent of rain, lightning lighting up the windows. Mingyu jumps a little at the next crack of thunder, offering you a sheepish smile when you look at him. 

The party doesn’t stop with the lights out, but it grows considerably hotter and a little more chaotic in Soonyoung’s apartment. Without the buzz of the music, the sound of voices is louder than before and as the minutes tick by without air conditioning, the crowd in the living room begins to make it humid and heated.

The gloves on your hand feel sticky with sweat as you fan yourself. It doesn’t help that the material the Sailor Scout uniform is made from isn’t made for being wet, which leaves you constantly checking the front of the costume for signs of sweat stains. 

Your mood deflates a little. Mingyu keeps by your side, sitting on the arm of Soonyoung’s couch with you on the seat next to him, leaning your forehead against his legs. Your drink has gone a little warm and now that it seems like the power will be out for a long time, Soonyoung has put an embargo on opening the refrigerator repeatedly until the power comes back. 

In the dim light of the living room, Chan trips over someone’s shoe and falls over, spilling his beer. You feel the lukewarm liquid splash down the front of your costume and you shoot to your feet, startled by the spill. 

Chan is apologizing before he can even peel himself from where he’s half crashed into the coffee table full of drinks and decor as you hold your hands out and wince, looking at the wet front of your body.

“Chaaaaan,” you whine, pouting. “Ugh.”

“I’m so sorry!” He peels himself from the table and looks at you, eyes round and pleading. “Fuck, let me get paper towels, ugh I’m so sorry!” 

Mingyu holds out a hand and rises. “I’ve got it. I don’t trust you to not make it worse.” 

Grabbing your hand, Mingyu leads you away from the living room toward the stairs. Frustration mounts inside of you as you follow him up the steps, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. Your night isn’t ruined but it’s not going the way you imagined, and now you’re covered in the stale smell of beer and your costume is stained.

It’s quieter upstairs. Bypassing the guest bathroom, Mingyu leads you straight into Soonyoung’s primary bedroom and to the ensuite bathroom. You’re grateful the two of you have privileges in his house, going where others aren’t allowed to get away from the crowd with your soaked chest.

Mingyu flicks on the light and spins you toward the counter. He taps your thigh and you nod, jumping a little as he hoists you the rest of the way onto the granite countertop. The bathroom is a decent size with him and hers sinks, double doors leading to a closet, and a massive bathtub. 

“This sucks,” you mutter, looking down at the vaguely yellow color of your once white dress. “I was having fun until this.”

“I know.” He doesn’t disagree or try to tell you it doesn’t suck - he is well aware that the ugly stain does suck. He takes off his top hat and glasses, eyebrows furrowed. “Peel this off for me, yeah? I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t see you raise your brows as he vanishes from the bathroom, leaving the door to the bedroom open. Rain rages against the bedroom windows, flashes of lightning lighting up the bathroom momentarily.

Carefully, you do what Mingyu has asked. You peel the gloves off your arms, carefully setting them down on the counter before you reach behind your back and reach for the zipper. You can’t quite seem to get it, struggling and angling your arm backward, fingers grasping.

Mingyu reappears with a bottle of detergent in his hand and some rags. He notices you struggling and laughs a little, setting down his things to sweep his hands over your shoulders to the zipper.

Dropping your arm, you watch him in the mirror as he focuses entirely on your zipper. It’s dark in the bathroom but you can see him enough to make out his features, watching the way his dark brows pull together and his bottom lip tucks between his teeth in concentration.

He manages to get the zipper free, pulling it down slowly so as to not snag the fabric. The rough pads of his fingers scrape against your warm skin, sending a shiver up your spine. You watch as he smirks, dark eyes flicking up to catch yours in the mirror when he realizes why you’re twitching. 

Biting back a smile, Mingyu makes sure to drag his hands across your skin as he pushes the fabric from your shoulders and down your arms. His touch heats your skin and you feel breathy, immediately affected by something as simple as his fingers on your arms. 

Mingyu pays extra attention to helping you step out of the costume, feather-light fingers brushing down your thighs as he pulls the fabric along. You know he’s doing it on purpose. Still, you find it a little harder to breathe, leaning heavily against the counter. 

He stands back up to his full height and leans around you, pressing his chest to your back in order to reach the things he put on the counter. His breath puffs against your shoulder as he murmurs, “Cold? You’re shivering.” 

You glare at him in the mirror. He’s grinning widely, eyes a little hungry. “Was this all just a plan to get me naked?”

He shakes his head and pulls away from you. You watch as he turns on the sink, pulling the stopper to fill it with cold water and detergent. He puts your costume inside the sink, soaking it.

“I’d never risk ruining your Halloween just to get you naked, baby.” Your neck and cheeks heat, feeling shy suddenly. “However, I’m not complaining about my view.” 

Of course he’s not. Without the Sailor Moon outfit, you’re left in a lacy white thong and bra to match. He dries his hands on a towel, prowling back over to you as he drinks you in, gaze heated. “Did you wear this on purpose?” 

“It’s the only white I had that couldn’t be seen under the costume.” 

“Hmm.” He reaches for your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch ignites a fire inside of you, your costume long forgotten as he tilts his head, admiring you. “Sure it had nothing to do with me loving you in white?”

“Nope.”

Mingyu’s hand skates from your waist to your ass, squeezing a handful playfully. “Well your costume needs to soak… so we need to pass the time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” He presses in close, putting his forehead against yours. You feel his mouth brush yours when he says, “Hop back up on the counter for me.” 

With shaking limbs, you do as he asks, spreading your legs to give him space. He crowds you into the counter, making you lean backward against Soonyoung’s mirror as he presses in. He steals a kiss from you, lips hungry but slow. You make a sound in the back of your throat, sliding your fingers into his hair and tugging. 

Mingyu is an enthusiastic kisser, pleased hums escaping him as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands skim up and down your thighs, a warm contrast to the pool granite of the countertop. You squeeze your knees into his hips, feeling a dull throb between your legs at just innocent touching and kissing. 

Somewhere outside, thunder rolls again. You’ve long forgotten about the party, lost in the heat of Mingyu’s mouth as he trails a blazing path of kisses toward your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him access as he attaches his mouth to your pulsepoint, sucking lightly.

A moan escapes you, echoing in the bathroom. Mingyu groans in response, eager and fueled by the way you melt in his hands, sagging against the counter. One of his hands squeezes your thigh greedily while the other sinks between your legs, pressing against the damp silk of your underwear. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, biting your neck and making you squeak. “Really? From just kissing.”

“And the costume, a little.”

“I’ll wear it whenever you want,” he promises. He buries his face in your neck, moving his fingers in a slow circle against your clit. “Just tell me when.”

Instead of answering verbally, you let out a breathy sound, hips twitching forward as he increases the pressure. It feels good, pleasure sparking low in your stomach as he continues to tease you. 

“Mingyu,” you mutter, fingers tugging harder at his hair. “Be nice to me.” 

“I like when you’re needy for me.” You can’t see him, but you know he’s pouting.

“I need you now. Please.”

His smile presses against your neck. He relents, hooking a finger through your panties to pull them to the side. He leans back to look down where he drags his knuckle down your sticky folds. He swears quietly, throwing back his head. 

A flash of lightning splashes him in silver for a moment, making him look like a god. And he sort of is, in a way. You cannot imagine worshiping anything the way you worship him and he returns the sentiment tenfold, his touch almost reverent as he circles his fingers around your dripping entrance. 

Mingyu knows exactly how you like to be touched. It makes you dizzy and leaves you panting against the mirror, sinking further and further so that you’re nearly bent in half as his fingers expertly circle your clit properly, applying enough pressure to drive you wild but not enough to work you up too fast.

It’s a marathon, not a race for him. Your thoughts turn to static when he sinks a finger into your pussy, both of you groaning as you clench around his fingers. The intrusion feels good, especially when he shallowly fucks his fingers into you.

“There,” you gasp, digging your nails into the back of his neck. Mingyu moans at that, the sound sweet to your ears. “Right there, Gyu. Shiiiiit.”

“Feels good?”

“Uh huh.”

Your pleasure fuels him, making him a little harsher. A little more feral. He crushes his mouth against yours, stealing your breath in a fiery kiss. He presses another finger in, fucking you with his hand in earnest now. You fall to pieces under him, tongues tangled and teeth clinking together. 

Mingyu presses his thumb to your clit as he works your pussy, applying pressure while pressing his fingers against your front wall, movements precise and dead on. You let out a loud sound, burying your face in his neck to quiet yourself. It makes him laugh roughly, increasing his pace, the wetness loud against the silence of the bathroom. 

“Come on,” he pleads, voice gentle. “Come for me, I wanna see it.” 

“Close,” you pant. “Close close close.”

He’s persistent, driving you right toward an orgasm, skillful fingers divine. You feel the coil wind tight in your stomach until you’re shivering in his hold, squeezing your eyes close as your breath starts to shorten and you feel your muscles start to twitch, a sure sign of your orgasm.

Mingyu presses his mouth against yours, wet and spit-slicked from your messy kissing. “Give it to me,” he begs. “Please baby, come for me.”

The desperation in his voice and the ferocity at which he presses that spot inside of you makes you unravel. You bite down on the cloth of his costume, muting your scream as you come around him hard, vision white. 

He praises you through it, peppering you in sweet compliments as he kisses your head, fingers moving at a leisurely place to work you through your high. You feel the stickiness between your legs, heaving a sigh as you drop your head back hard against the mirror with a thunk. 

“Be careful,” he chastises, slowing his hand until he’s stopped entirely, fingers pressed deep. You look up at him with stars in your eyes, blinking dreamily. “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

“Meh.”

He smiles, retracting his hand slowly from your core. You wine, feeling the slick pull of his fingers as he lifts his hands. You watch as he brings them up to his mouth, dark eyes locked on yours as he presses them in, sucking the gleam right off his skin.

Mingyu hums happily, closing his eyes as he savors the taste. You lick your lips, mouth going dry as you watch him, lips parted. When he opens his eyes, his pupils are a little blown.

“That was hot,” you tell him honestly, staring.

His smile is a little shy. “We still have time to kill. Your costume needs to soak a little longer.”

“Does it?”

“Mhmm. Plus,” he grins, kneeling and pressing you open by the knees. “I wanna prism power eat this pussy.”

“Mingyu!”

“It was a good joke!”

“No it wasn’t!”

He huffs, eyes zeroing in on your dripping cunt. “Whatever. Now let me have a taste, baby.” 

-

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[angelcent]

𝟑:𝟎𝟏𝐀𝐌

summary. toji comes home late at night from a job. he reflects on his love for you.

tags. established relationship, modern au, hitman!toji, fluff, introspection, toji is in love and can’t believe it, oral sex (f.recieving), suggestive. wc.2k+

note. based on my fic series, but can be read as a standalone. the reader and toji are unofficially engaged. inspired by rainy nights & gymnopedie. re-posted <3

toji regrets passing on the umbrellas strategically placed outside of the 24 hour Family Mart in the pouring rain. the fabric of his worn black jacket practically seeped into into his shoulders, weighing him down. there'd be a storm tonight, no doubt.

his phone died before getting on the last bullet train to tokyo so he hadn’t expected the sudden onslaught of rain. the weather greeted toji like a whirlwind when he stepped out the train—sharp and unforgiving against his sore muscles. 

still, he was too preoccupied with getting home, barely giving the umbrella stand a second glance as he made his way through kabukicho. the red light district was busy despite the weather and late hour; people crowding clubs and bars to escape the cold. even the hostess girls and scammers have retreated from the rain.

toji ignored it all, practically dragging himself through the narrow neon lit streets. his shoulders were heavy and sunken with the fatigue of a weeks long job, but toji was solely focused on getting back home.

to you.

he knows this neighborhood more than any other; knows all the restaurants that give shady men like him good discounts and the illegal gambling rooms hidden amongst ordinary establishments. he knows exactly where to pick up women that are eager to give him a good time with no consequences.

all of his past vices are right at his fingertips, so close that he can easily imagine blowing through his entire payment in a few hours. but none of this calls to him anymore, though. there's nothing in these fleeting excitements that draw him in. he's a man with a future now.

the apartment is pitch black when he enters, save for the glow of the small nightlight plugged into the genkan, only ever on when you’re expecting him in the early hours of the night. the soft orange glow greets toji home like the kiss of your loving sunlight—a sweet reminder of your consideration. it softens some of the violence that remains inside of him after a contract that ends, with bloody hands being scrubbed clean inside a motel bathroom.

because a bastard like him somehow found you in the turbulent shitstorm that was his life. toji fushiguro found another kind soul who loved him and kept him close to their heart. you were the angel who healed his wounds with your bright laugh and reminded him that good things were still possible despite all that’s happened. to him, you represented a future that didn’t end in sorrow and bloodshed and loneliness.

the downpour was muted through the building, thumping heavy against the rooftop. the frigid breeze no longer reached him. it was comfortably warm inside.

removing his jacket and shoes, he made his way through your shared shitty 1K—a one room studio apartment with a kitchenette and not much else. one could say this place was his home, but toji’s home was anywhere that you or megumi resided in. in the kitchenette was the sink and a small counter space with a microwave on top. beside it was the fridge and stuck to it with a miffy magnet was a post-it that read: 

left some shogayaki for you, it’s in the blue container! the sencha is in the cabinet. drink some to warm you up! wake me when you’re back ♡

cute. actually, the soft kitten snores that reached his ears were even more adorable.

the rain pattered against the balcony door as he stopped by the bed tucked into a corner. this place was too cramped for a man like him, let alone a couple and occasionally a child. toji couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of here, to give you and megumi a home that you deserved. to be done with this shady lifestyle.

you stirred as the bed dipped with his weight. “t’ji?”

“hey babe,” he murmured, softer than he intended. softer than he ever felt capable of. the storm outside continued on, now raging on the streets of tokyo. “just got back.”

i’m home. fuck, when did the tides inside of him calm? 

toji's lips curl up as your small hands blindly felt up his arms and chest with a dubious hum. because you don’t fully know just how cutthroat he is when he’s not being your boyfriend. your soon to be husband. “mm. you’re ok? not hurt?”

half asleep and you’re still fussing over him. the devotion and sweetness of your love made his teeth ache sometimes. it took all of his sins and washed them away like the storm just outside the window. now, toji was a softie who turned down risky jobs despite the big paychecks that they promised. 

all because he had a girl and a son to come home to.

“who do ya think i am?” toji scoffs, pinching your nose between two thick fingers. he tugged gently, grinning at your lazy swats in retaliation. you reminded him of the kittens at the cat cafe that you had gone to when you first began dating. “hm? have some faith in me. i always get the job done just fine, no big deal.”

smacking his hand away with a grunt, your palm curled over his cold nape to pull him down for a kiss. in the dark of the room with the moonlight blanketed by dark clouds, his lips blindly met the corner of your mouth instead. huffing a soft laugh, you turned slightly to give him a proper kiss.

it’s something you always insist on, to give him a welcoming kiss home no matter what hour he returns. he thought it fuzzy and clingy at first, a testament to your almost decade age difference, but the gesture has grown on him.

toji hums low in the back of his throat, pressing you back against the bed with the weight of his much larger body. his tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the minty mouthwash from the hundred yen store down the street. your body unconsciously adjusts for him, allowing him to pin you down fully the way he's done so many times. his hand settles over the curve of your waist, and the little whimper you let out has him reaching down to unbutton his pants.

before he can do so, you let out a shaky gasp and pushed him away. albeit reluctantly. “wait! go shower first, you stink!”

toji scowled. “tch. no I fuckin’ don’t, you little brat. the motel had a bathroom.”

“yeah, and the stuff there is crap ‘cause I can tell you smoked. you didn’t take the travel kit i made for you! i spent all day in shibuya looking something you wouldn’t hate only for—”

flipping the blanket over your face, toji got up with a groan. he ignored your muffled curses. “fine! i’ll go take one, shit. what a fuckin’ moodkiller.”

dodging the pillow you threw towards his back, he allowed himself to smile at your continued cursing. the kansai accent and slang always slips out when you’re upset and it’s the cutest fucking thing. he doubts you’re even aware of it so it’s just for him to enjoy.

a quick hot shower later, toji wiped at the foggy mirror. looking at his reflection, he allowed himself to settle into the tranquilty of the apartment. the edge of a job released with the sigh he let out. he came to terms with the fact that the blood would never wipe clean from his hands. no matter what, toji was tainted with the death of more than he could count. 

he still didn’t care that the lives that he took were worth nothing more than horse races, cigarettes, tokens, cigars, and petty material possessions. it was a life that he felt shackled to—choked down into. 

but outside the small bathroom door was his salvation. 

emerging from the bathroom in only sweatpants, toji found you standing in the kitchen. your back was faced towards him, taking something out of the microwave to place on your miniscule countertop. the small space smelled of pork and ginger; you had gotten up to heat up his dinner. it wasn’t until he met you that he realized how small gestures could contain so much love. 

toji walked towards you, taking a quick glance at the clock against the wall that read 3:01am. is this considered an early breakfast, then?

unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently pulling you against his broad chest. you didn’t mind this, instead humming contently and settling back against him while you stirred his food. it was all so comfortable and familiar; it’s something he’s done hundreds of times now. toji placed a kiss at your temple, soothed by the scent of your coconut shampoo and jasmine body wash. generic products that countless women in tokyo could be found wearing, yet they were something novel and fresh on you. it was something he couldn’t get enough of.

in fact, he could never get enough of you.

“did ya miss me?” toji crooned into the shell of your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth to suckle on. your responding whimper had his gut tightening in arousal. “'cause i missed you. you’ve got no idea how badly, babe. these long jobs almost aren't worth the fuckin’ money anymore.”

a sigh escaped your lips as you gave him more access to kiss down your jaw and neck, leaving little nips. "mmm, i missed you every single day. i even started missing seeing your dirty clothes all over the place."

"that so?" toji hums in amusement, giving your hips a slow squeeze. the stirring in his gut only grows at your proximity. the softness of your skin, the delicious sounds you make, how small you feel beside him.

perfect girl. his perfect girl.

"mhm, it was lonely without you," a shiver crawls up your spine at toji's big hands caressing you. you mutually find each other irresistable, often unable to stop once you've begun. "but you should eat first...we have all day tomorrow to..."

you trail off when toji licks up your neck, feeling a familiar bulge at your backside.

“I had to listen to you play with that sweet cunt through the shitty burner phone,” he grunts into your ear. back in that motel he had stroked his cock alongside your moans, filling his ears with the sounds of your wet pussy. you were so needy and slutty that night, whining filth into the phone while he was cities away. “c‘mon, baby. all you’ve gotta do is sit on my tongue. lemme taste how much you missed me.”

he's playing with your tits now, kneading the soft flesh in his big rough hands. the way you take your lower lip into your mouth tells him all he needs to know. toji sinks to his knees, pushing your hips to rest against the counter as he pays his respects to your sweet cunt. his hands slide the shirt—his shirt—up to expose more of your soft skin to him. plush thighs begging to be bitten into, cute comfortable underwear, smooth belly and a peek of your bare tits.

the rain outside faded into the background, becoming nothing more than a backdrop. toji absently thought of the people he had seen out in the streets; who were nothing but props in this moment. this moment was suspended in time between your bated breaths. the world blurred around him, leaving only you in his line of sight. 

greed has been a companion throughout his life, one that he welcomed with open arms. he's been selfish and quick to give into indulgence, but none hold a candle to you. none had his blood buzzing in his veins the way your body did. that soft and gorgeous body of yours, that cunt that squeezed him so well...

toji smirked, taking notice of the small wet spot over your soft cotton underwear. it made his mouth water, the taste of your cunt ever present in his mind. he rubbed a thumb over your mound, light enough to tease. your breath hitched slightly, sensitive for him as always. “tsk, tsk. don’t know why you try and pretend like you’re not aching for me. look how wet this cunt is, baby.”

he continued on, pressing into your clit until you begin to squirm and beg under your breath. but he wants to get back at you a little for messing with him with that phone call, so he focuses on your clothed pussy. pressing his nose over your mound, toji inhales deeply with a broken groan. when you shyly try to close your thighs, his hands grip around the soft flesh to keep them apart, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to keep you comfortable.

"smell so fucking good," he whispers, licking up the damp cloth to where your pubic hair would begin. the thin fabric is growing more wet against his mouth, and soft curses are spilling from your lips. "gonna devour you."

when your body begins to sink down against him, that's when toji knows to hook a finger over the side of your underwear and show him what he's been thinking of day and night. your pussy is gleaming wet for him, lips puffy and begging to be kissed.

eating your pussy is the final welcome home after a long job—he spreads your lips apart to spit at your hole before going in and licking your mixed juices back up. makes sure you’re nice and pliant for him before he slides a thick finger in, nice and slow.

your smaller hand fisted in his midnight hair, pulling every time he suckled on your clit. he groaned in response, silently urging you to tug harder. rougher. to pull his hair back only to shove his face back into your cunt.

if it were up to him, he'd suffocate between your soft thighs and die a happy man. his grunts vibrated against your skin, only making you hotter knowing how much he enjoys eating your pussy. the flat of his tongue licks up your twitching hole, gathering your juices before suckling on your puffy clit.

it all felt insignificant inside of this apartment. he was alive and well, much more than someone like him could ask for. because a man who kills for a living never quits counting his days. for so long he was accustomed to rising in the morning, resigned with the fact he may not live to see the sun dip below the horizon.

except that this morning his first thought had been wonder if she got some more razors for me. it was so horrifingly domestic that it gave him vertigo. you had, in fact, gotten him more razors. for toji, life was no longer about surviving—now it was about making it through his hardships and planning a future. and you were always at the center of his thoughts when he envisioned the future. it was your stubborn optimism that made him believe in it, after all.

toji feels your thighs quivering just before you begin grinding over his face frantically. his cock is leaking through his sweats, aching to be touched. but his needs come second to yours, and isn't that fucking wild? the thought still baffles him a year later—the knowledge that he wants you coming all over his tongue before he even takes his dick out.

and when you start mewling and gasping and losing your rhythm, he growls into that heaven and urges you to soak him in your pleasure. his fingers are fucking in and out of your tight hole while he makes out with your clit, knowing the exact moment when you come. your cunt clenches around his fingers before clear liquid comes out in spurts over him, drowning him in your juices.

"fuck, fuck fuck," he moans in between, drinking you up like a man starved. "keep going, baby. give it to me, give it all to me."

up in the clouds, you nod along absently, using his face to ride out your high. without thinking, you allow yourself to slide down the counter because you know that toji always catches you. he already expects your limp arms to wrap around his neck as he hoists you up to take you to bed.

kissing blindly against his throat, you begin gaining your senses. "still not gross, right?"

“pfft, look how fuckin’ hard I am for you.” toji scoffs, settling you down onto the mattress to fully remove your underwear. you whimper when your eyes meet the outline of his drooling cock. “I should kill the asshole that made you think that way, huh?”

you're still insecure about what you've done and it makes no sense to him. he finds it so attractive and exciting to see you unravel like that for him. still, because he's fucking soft, he always reassures you no matter how many times you need. his words are gruff and blunt but you appreciate it. your kindness and acceptance healed his remaining wounds, giving him a place to lay his head.

just as you’ve helped him work through his past, he’d do the same to you.

toji took you apart on your shared bed, your sweet moans and whines muffled by the storm that continued raging on into the early morning. sopping wet and aching to be filled, your cunt opened up for him perfectly. your gasps of toji, toji, toji, made him hazy enough to pray to gods he’s never believed in.

the cash that weighed down his jacket pocket meant nothing to him. it was merely a means to relieve his debt and nothing more. none of that would compare to the feel of your body against his in the dead of night—keeping you warm. the embrace of his future wife tethered toji to the earth. love was a peculiar thing.

[ennabear]

Hiya ennnabear!! Back with another req (　ﾟ 3ﾟ)

can i ask for sum sevika x hyperfemme!reader? Could either be a fic or a list of headcannons, nsfw or sfw, i really dont mind !! >3< the prompts up to your interpertation!! Whatever u feel comftorable with!! ＼(^o^)／

I can just imagine Sevika, with her pastel pink, poofy-dressed eyecandy, sitting on her lap as she plays cards .. the people shes playing with all sorta eyeing reader because like what the fuck?? And reader is just like 'oh sevikas just so adorable shsjkassjksksk cutie patootie i wuv her!!!!!' while Sevika is off in the distance beating someone half to death because he touched her shoulder .. on accident ( ﾟーﾟ)

also, i beg of you to use inspo from that one scene in deadpool where he meets yukio. I kid you not thats where i got this requests inspo from.

"What in the fuck knuckles is this?"

(Sevika, with a literal living doll in her lap) "Shes my girlfriend you intolerant shit."

"Woah! Pump the hate breaks, fox-and-friends! Im just suprised anyone would date you! Especially pinkie pie from my little pony."

aaaaa i love this woman sososo much ( ´∀`) my 6' criminalistic murderer drug (shimmer) addict babygirl (〃_ _)

thanks in advance if u decide to write this !! sorry for the agonizingly long yap sesh (^_^;)

--🃏🌀⭐️

(and now to crawl back into my pit of lesbian shame .. (ФωФ))

HIII ANON sorry this took me so long to answer but i’m occupied with writing 2 sevika oneshots so i hope i can earn your forgiveness once they’re out 🫶 also i yapped a lil about hyperfemme!sevika here so ignore the fact that i can’t follow a request to save my life!!! 18+

ok so the way i envision sevika’s girlfriend would be a little bit… drag-ey?? i don’t really know how to explain it so allow me to elaborate…

1. we already know that femme lesbians are feminine in a way that’s different from feminine straight women (more cutesy, stylish, female gaze, etc.) but also…

2. with the way people dress in zaun (when they’re not murdering each other) and the general way they’re animated is very costumey. lots of face paint, masks, sophisticated outfits.

so i think in the arcane universe you’d probably dress something like this. painting your skin weird colors, covering yourself head to toe in body glitter, wearing expensive wigs, corsets, and heels that look impossible to move in, and stuff like that.

that means sevika would try to make sure you’re comfortable 24/7!!! especially if you’re wearing something potentially dangerous like heels that are two feet tall, she wouldn’t let you walk the whole night, instead picking you up and hauling you around.

as if the money silco pays her isn’t enough, she makes tons of money from the guys she gambles with. she spends every last PENNY on you. it’s not like she needs to spend it on herself though, her arm and her scowl are a pretty deadly weapon, and she doesn’t go all out with clothes like you do.

also i think she’d completely fold if you ever wore a low cut top or even no top when you go out with her (and she doesn’t believe in bras… so…) especially if you have piercings in/around your tits, she’d be fondling them and groping them all night!!!

she 10000000% has a thing for public sex!!!! while she’s playing cards, she’ll slide your skirt up (if it’s even long enough…), and have you ride her strap. the dumbfucks she’s playing with would gawk and stare at what’s obviously going on in her lap, but she’s about to rob them of their money, so they really shouldn’t be focusing on it.

oooh and once you finally cum, she’d be like “good girl, now give me another. okay?” and her fingers would start vibrating as you slump down next to her… of course you might get weird looks, but if anyone tries to say or do anything about it she could literally just kill them. (or maybe she’s feeling nice and will break a few of their ribs instead, who knows…)

she’d be constantly covered in some kind of your makeup. especially if you wear a crazy color lipstick like bright blue or something, her lips and cheeks and nose would be that color the whole night. and if you wear body glitter, it would look sooooo pretty on her skin. she’d be glaring at people all night like 😡😡😡😡 but her face and hands would look like ✨✨🌈🦄🩷✨✨

adding onto that, she’d look sooo pretty if she let you experiment (which is a pretty big IF), but imagine her with her hair curled, wearing pretty purple glitter on her cheeks and arms, in some sort of heeled boots that make her even taller than she needs to be, and in a dress?? in a short dress??? sevika in a short dress???? i’ll (s)cream right now…

if someone manages to corner you and talk to you about sevika, the conversation would be hilarious and very unproductive. they’d be like “why her? doesn’t she scare you?” and you’d be like “sevika? my little baby bear?? my knight in shining armor who screams at the sight of bugs??? no… she doesn’t scare me…”

meeting silco and the rest of the last drop crew would be… quite the experience. they’re all staring with wide eyes, practically shaking because of how scary she looks, and then there’s you with your hands entwined with hers, some of your bright pink face paint smudging onto her cheeks and neck as you nuzzle into her. silco’d find her alone for one moment and ask “who the hell is that?” and she’d reply with “my girlfriend. 😾 don’t mess with her.” and he’d be like “your girlfriend? your girlfriend is a barbie doll?? o…kay… congrats to both of you…”

[featherandferns]

gamble (alternative ending)

after some feedback from the original fic, I've decided to share the original ending to gamble that I had to change/cut because of Tumblr's post-size policies!

gamble - a jj maybank x fem!kook!reader 22k word fic - can be read here!

BBBRRRINNNGGGG. BBBRRRINNNGGGG. 

You startle awake, shooting up in bed like you’ve been electrocuted. It’s one of those feelings when you don’t remember where you are or when you fell asleep. As you rub at your eyes and let them focus on your surroundings, illuminated by the soft glow of your bedside lamp through the darkness, you remember. You’re in your bed, in your room. Your mom must have left you to sleep after you nodded off, finally at some semblance of peace to get some rest. The sleep you fell into was dreamless and well-needed. 

BBBRRRINNNGGGG. 

Blindly reaching for your vibrating phone, you squint at the bright screen and make out Kie’s contact picture and name. You swipe to answer. 

“Hello?” you mumble, half-asleep. 

“Hey! Can you hear me okay?”

“Yeah,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes again. “What time is it?”

“I don’t remember. Like ten, maybe? Eleven?”

“Hmngh.”

“Are you busy?”

“Not really,” you sleepily reply. 

“I think you need to come over,” Kiara says. Something about her tone has you awake like a shot of espresso. You push the covers down off you. 

“Is everything okay?”

She sighs and that does little to ease your worries. “Look, I know you and JJ are in a bit of a fight-thing right now - I don’t know, maybe that’s why he’s acting the way he is, at least partially but–”

“Kie? What’s going on?” you interrupt. 

“I just…” She sighs again, then finally says, “I just think JJ really needs you right now.”

“I’m on my way,” you reply, hanging up. You climb out of bed and don’t bother getting dressed past pulling on a sweatshirt. The clothes on your body are three days old; you changed once since the conversation with JJ. A pair of mac and cheese stained sweatpants and an old tank top. Ranger wakes as you make your way down the stairs and you decide to let him join. It’s disorientating as you sneak out the house into darkness, considering that you fell asleep in the daylight. The two of you load into your car and you’re leaving your house in record time. In the rearview mirror you check your hair and cuss, trying to smooth it down. Your skin is makeup free and body empty of jewellery, save from the bracelet that twins JJ’s. It makes you feel somewhat naked. As if he heard the whole conversation, Ranger whines from the passenger seat. You murmur reassurances and pet his head as you drive down the deserted roads. The Chateau beams into sight from your headlights. But there’s something else. Some other light, bright and illuminating, from the yard that wasn’t there before. You park your car and climb out, Ranger quick to follow, and walk into the yard. Your eyes widen as they land on a hot tub. 

“What…the…fuck?”

“Oh, thank God,” Kiara exhales in relief, appearing in the doorway of the porch. She rushes down to you and wraps you in a hug, and you’re happy to return it. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to get involved in whatever it is going on with you and JJ, and I never really know if we’re friends or just circumstance friends but–”

“Kie! It’s fine, it’s fine,” you interrupt with a small laugh, a tad concerned. You pull apart, hands on her shoulders, to meet her gaze. Your smile melts with unease, eyes heavy with worry. “What’s going on? Is JJ okay?”

She sighs and shakes her head. She takes a step away from you and rubs at her head. “He got in a fight with his dad. Some stuff went down after you two had your…talk. I don’t know…It might just be better to ask him.”

You purse your lips and nod slowly, contemplatively. 

“He’s inside,” Kiara tells you. With that, you make your way up the porch stops. At the front door, you falter and stop. Would he even want to see you? Was this somehow breaking the rules of your ‘non-break’; not giving him the space he needs to think and function away from you? You recount the past three days of your side of the non-break. How you’ve spent them hiding in your bed, crying at the oddest moments, feeling the lack of JJ’s company like you lost a limb. Ranger rubs at your leg, whining, and you decide to trust your gut. If he wants you to leave, all he has to do is say, but you’re certain Kiara wouldn’t call for just any old thing. 

The spare bedroom door is shut. Ranger whines and whines and scratches at the door. Your hands wrap around the handle and you take a steady breath in. The rickety handle creaks as you slowly push it open, the hinges protesting loudly. One of your hands leans down to grab at Ranger’s collar to keep him by your heel. On the bed is JJ, slumped as he sits, his back to the door. 

“Kie, I told you to jus’ leave me alone, a’right? I’m fine,” he mumbles. His voice is thick like he’s been crying. You swallow. 

“It’s not Kiara,” you quietly confess. JJ whips around. His lips part and eyes gape and he stares at you as you stand awkwardly in the doorway. You probably look just as much of a mess; days-old clothing, unruly hair, make-up free and irritated skin. Funnily enough, a diet of purely Reese’s Pieces is not the best for keeping spots and blemishes at bay. 

“What are you doing here?” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher. 

“Kiara called me,” you reply, shrugging as you add, “she’s worried about you and thought I should come over.”

“Oh, uh, right.”

His head slumps and he stares at the blanket atop of his bed. You purse your lips and feel the awkwardness and unease consume your entire body. Contemplating leaving, you glance behind you, into the silent hallway. But then Ranger somehow manages to slip from your hold. He races over to JJ like a rescue dog in the mountains, clambering onto the bed, ambushing JJ. He laughs at the onslaught of slobbery kisses, letting Ranger imitate a lap dog. His fingers scratch into the coarse fun on Ranger’s neck and he chuckles. 

“I missed you too, boy,” he murmurs. You smile at the sight. JJ glances over at you. 

“I figured you might need a puppy-pick-me-up. He missed you like crazy.” You then take a shaky breath as you go on to admit, “we both did.”

A look flashes across JJ’s face then. His smile lessens as if in thought, and he nods. “I missed you too.”

“I can leave if you want me to leave,” you tell him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“No,” JJ blurts, quick like a cat running from a loud bang. “No, don’t…don’t leave. Please.”

You nod. You’d stay forever if he asked you to. You’re not sure there’s many things JJ could ask of you that you’d protest to. Closing the door behind you, you wander over to the bed and sit sort of opposite to him, on the side nearest the door. Ranger settles half laid in JJ’s lap, appeased now that he’s in the company of perhaps his favourite person in the world. Your eyes survey JJ’s face for new injuries and am relieved to find none. The old have healed completely now too, thank God. That’s a relief at least. He’s unharmed. Or so you thought.

“Do you, uh…Do you remember when we went fishing, just last week? I don’t know, it feels like a lifetime ago now but…” you cut yourself off nervously with a laugh. JJ nods vaguely. “D’you remember what I said to you?”

“That you’re an armed woman, now?” JJ wonders, quirking a brow, that cute, playful smile trying to break out. 

You laugh quietly, shortly, and dip your head for a moment. “Not just that though. D’you remember that I told you that you can always tell me anything, and that I’m always gonna be on your side?” 

JJ nods again. 

“It’s kinda ironic cause I think that’s when you started putting up these walls,” you say. Another small breath in and then you continue, “and I don’t blame you for it, JJ. In fact, I think I understand it.”

His brows tug together, unclear, and you’re not sure you’ve ever known him to be this quiet before. 

“I can’t relate to you, JJ. I have my own struggles with trivial kind of stuff but I don’t know real struggle. Not like you do. So, I don’t blame you. I mean, why would you let a rich, stook-up Kook into that?”

“I ain’t mean it like–”

“--No, no, I’m not mad. I’m not saying that to be all ‘woe is me’ or whatever. I mean it. Like…I get it,” you interrupt, fighting to hold his eyesight. “It just hurts, y’know? Cause the thing is, I love you. I love you no matter what. No matter the ‘bad decisions’ and the stupid choices, like the Midsummer’s fiasco or whatever. But I can’t love you, JJ, if I don’t know you. If I don’t know these things about you. I don’t like being left on the outside. It makes me feel like I don’t matter to you, and I don’t know if I can take that feeling, y’know?”

JJ licks his lips nervously and clears his throat. He nods, glances around the room, uncomfortable by your candidness. JJ doesn't come from a place where conversations like these were encouraged or common and so, as if to reassure, your hand finds his on the blanket. You softly envelope it with your warmth. He stares at that small gesture for a long while. 

“I just don’t want you to think less of me,” JJ confesses quietly. “I’m a scumbag, a’right? I make dumbass choices and get myself into dumbass situations and I’m not good for you.”

“Yes, you are, JJ. You’re a good person.”

“No, I ain’t,” he quickly dismisses, meeting your gaze once more. And he means that. It hurts you so bad because he means it. “I ain’t a good person.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re a good person to me, okay? I don’t care about all that other noise–”

“--Well, you should, alright?” JJ snaps, losing his tether. His hand slips from your comfort to flail out into the air in a wild gesture. “I mean, Jesus! I just fuckin’ robbed a drug dealer and blew the money on a hottub, for Christ’s sake - and you’re sitting here telling me I’m a good person?”

You look down with that. JJ catches his anger and sighs, shakes his head, disappointed. “I’m sorry, I just…This is what I mean. I can’t let you get that close to me.”

“I get it,” you mutter. “You don’t love me, JJ, that’s okay. That’s not your fault.”

“No, hey - what? I never said I don’t love you.”

“You never tell me that you do,” you whisper, eyes stinging with tears yet again. You look at him and offer him a shaky smile. “I don’t want to force someone to be with me, JJ.”

“I don’t want you to tie yourself to me,” JJ out-right states. As if surprised by his own truthfulness, he’s spurred on. “I don’t want you to say you’re okay with these things now and then look around in three months time or whatever, and realise just what a fuck-up you’re with.”

“I’m never gonna think that,” you tell him. “I’m never gonna think you’re a fuck-up.”

JJ looks unsure of whether to believe you or not. Your hand finds his again, the other landing on his thigh. “I mean it, JJ. I’m in love with you. I don’t care what batshit, crazy stuff you get yourself involved in, as long as I’m in it too. I’m in, okay? All of it. I’m in. You just gotta stop shutting me out, yeah?"

JJ shakes his head slowly. But he’s easing up, coaxing open like a conker from its spiky shell. His tone is joking, lighter like buttercream, as he says, “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling sweetly. “But I’m your baby.” 

He smiles at that. 

“So, will you tell me? All of it? Please,” you request.

And he does.

It’s hard at first, like he’s forcing the words out syllable by syllable, but then it gets easier. The stories. The reasons. The motives. It starts with the hurricane - hurricane Agatha - and then with the white boat that they found. That’s where he got that gun - the same gun that you used to save him from Rafe and Topper - and you distantly recall his story. Then bits and pieces continue to crop up surrounding the Royal Merchant: the compass, the package…Then comes the grocery run and the jump on Pope, and the revenge. How Pope sank the boat, not JJ. That’s when the scruff up happened at the outdoor theatre, with you wielding the gun and saving their asses. Soon after came the arrest, originally intended for Pope but JJ gladly taking the fall. The pictures in the interrogation room of those men, bludgeoned and killed with a fishing spear before being left for shark bait. How JJ was terrified of that happening to John B but, more importantly, of it happening to you. First Rafe's ever-looming threat over your head and now this, and JJ felt like it was all because of him.

So he started to shut you out of it. Wanted to keep you at arms length. You couldn't get wrapped up in the Royal Merchant madness if you knew nothing about it.

"Cause I have to keep you safe," JJ mumbles, gazing into your eyes. "You're the most important thing in the world t'me, y'know? If something happened to you...and it was because of me..."

His voice trails off as if he can't bare the thought. Your heart swells. You squeeze his hand reassuringly and it prompts him to go on. JJ returns to the story. To how his dad beat him when he came to pick him up, and that’s why he was black-and-blue when he came to your house for dinner with your parents. God, if only you knew. After, with Midsummers, with John B dating Sarah Cameron (hence the secret note) and the meet-up at Rixon’s surrounding the Royal Merchant and the gold. How you weren’t invited because above everything else, JJ had to keep you safe. Then, they found it. They actually found the gold, under the Crain house, and they were going to be rich. Stinking, fucking, stupid rich. That brought them to today.

“So we melt the gold down,” JJ recounts, petting Ranger’s sleeping head. “And go to this pawn shop, a’right, way up town in like dodge-ville. I’m the one who’s gotta pawn this hunk of crap ‘cause I’m the best at bullshitting, so I go in and spin this whole yarn about my dementia-crazed mom or some shit. The pawn broker sends us out to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, and we get jumped by this random guy with a gun. He held it to our heads and made us give up the gold, but John B got the upper hand, right? You following? And I lost my shit, okay? Like things just felt…With you and the whole ‘break that isn’t a break’ thing, and the gun…I lost me shit, and I wanted to get even. An eye for an eye and all that crap - I mean, you know, you’ve read the bible. So we go to his shitty ass trailer and I steal the twenty-K that I owe for that boat Pope sank. But the others weren’t, uh…they weren’t super cool with that, so I went off alone, a’right? Cause I don’t need anybody but me, yeah? And I go to my dad and give him the money to settle up with the cops. But…But he don’t wanna do that. So this whole…thing starts and…”

JJ loses his momentum. His lower lip starts to tremble and this infuriates him. Huffing, he presses his hand over his mouth. You frown, worried, brows so closely knit they might as well be one. A shuddering breath that’s so deeply unfamiliar to hear in JJ lets slip. A tear trickles tellingly down his cheek. 

“Oh, JJ,” you murmur. 

“I nearly fuckin’ killed him,” JJ gasps. More tears fall. He stares you down as he repeats, “I nearly fuckin’ killed him and I-- I just couldn’t take it anymore, y'know? I couldn’t take it–”

You throw your arms around his shoulders and pull his shivering body into you. JJ rests his head on your shoulder, burying his face in your collarbone, and he sobs. Your own eyes well at the feeling of his pain leaking onto you, and you press your nose against the collar of his shirt, breathing in the only smell that can bring you calm. Your own personal brand of nicotine. His arms raise to cradle your back, holding you close just as you do him, and you let him cry. With every tear, it’s as though another brick has been pulled free from the walls he’s been building in the past two short weeks.  

Even when the headfirst sadness has passed, you hold him. It’s safe here, in this corner of the world, once again lapped in moonbeams and darkness. 

“I do love you,” JJ says against your skin. His breath is warm as it fans across the flesh. “It’s jus’...my family, we didn’t do the whole talking thing. I’m not used to really tellin’ anybody anything, let alone how I feel. It’s easy enough saying it to my friends but with you, like that…It scares the crap outta me.”

“Why?” you breathe, pulling back to be able to meet his gaze. Your head shakes as you gently say, “why is it so hard when I say it to you all the time? You know I’m never gonna turn you away or shoot you down for saying it.”

“I don't’ know,” JJ admits. “I don’t know, I guess I just have this thing that tells me I shouldn’t ever tell anybody.”

“In case you ever want to take it back?” you wonder. 

JJ swallows thickly like taking medicine. He shakes his head. His eyes look so sad you could weep. 

“No. In case you ever want me to.”

Lips parting, something clicks in your head. You think about the past two weeks. How your parents welcomed JJ into their house with open arms, whereas JJ is lucky if he can stay in his for a week without a blow-up. How you lean into your mom for comfort, whereas JJ can only find that in the bottom of a bottle. You’d only ever been met with love and grace and forgiveness. JJ? He knew betrayal and abandonment and disdain. You said you understood before, the first time he told you that he loved you, way back after the fight at the outdoor movie, but you didn’t. Not until now. 

“I drove past your house everyday, y’know?” JJ mumbles. “I wanted to call you so bad but I know you wanted this space and that I'd already fucked it up with the whole Ashley thing. I don't know...I guess I just didn't wanna push you. But I wanted to come over, so bad.”

A laugh bubbles up your throat and you can’t swallow it back. Shaking your head, you admit, “I thought about you everyday.”

JJ smiles, then starts to laugh under breath. “Wow. We’re really good at this, huh?”

“You should’ve come over,” you tell him, a teasing smile on your lips. “That’s what the guys do in the movies.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, grinning. “Now that just ain’t fair!”

The two of you sit in your laughter. It’s heavy like it holds stones in the pockets, but with each giggle you feel yourself becoming lighter. When the humour dies down, the two of you are left with sated smiles, gazing at one another. But JJ’s smile begins to fade. That same look of sorrow comes over his face. 

“I don’t wanna lose you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I shut you out. I just...I just never wanna lose you.”

You shake your head. “You’re not gonna lose me, JJ.” 

“You promise?”

“On Ranger’s life,” you say with a flicker of humour. He smiles, small, and nods. His hair is still damp and sits sticky on his forehead. 

“I should’ve told you about Ashley. I thought I was maybe saving you, or somethin’, by not but…You deserve to know. You’re entitled to know,” he affirms. “I’ll tell you anything you want. I swear.”

“I don’t need to know about the others, JJ,” you reply, meaning every word. Your hand squeezes his tightly. “I trust you.”

Both of your gazes drift down to your interlocked hands. On yours and JJ's wrists sit your handmade bracelets; the beads of your initials press against one another as if embracing. 

“Fuck,” JJ breathes out in a dying laugh. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Your head darts up. The words hang themselves in your head like bunting. A girlish, giddy smile breaks out on your lips. JJ begins to mirror it. 

“You do?” you giggle. 

His head bumps against yours. The smell of chlorine and prosecco comes and goes like the tide. Your lips want to chase his but something keeps you at bay, waiting for him. You found him first: now it was his turn to find you. 

“I can’t promise that I’m not gonna keep fuckin’ things up. But you came into my life and fuckin' turned my world of grey into colour. And I don't...I don't know if I can see those kinda things without you."

And somehow, someway, that's deeper than 'I love you'.

"Promise to let me in, now?"

Despite your closed eyes, you can see JJ's smile clear as day.

"I promise. You're officially a Pogue."

JJ’s lips find yours like a migrating bird returning home, and you feel as though you can finally breathe right for the first time in three days. Your fingers slip into his hair, combing through the strands, and JJ’s palms and fingers caress across your figure, as if tracing your body back into his mind. 

And as the two of you kiss, you realise that this was all it ever had to be. It was never that complicated, never that layered, because all that mattered was JJ. Wonderfully, recklessly-imperfect, Pogue through-and-through JJ. 

[poisonheiress]

Someone needs to say it: The "Heaven is actually bad" plot line that Hazbin is based around is useless when you spend more then 2 minutes thinking about Vivzie's Hell and her characters.

Besides it being much too early for this idea, the revelation that Heaven or at least the beings running it aren't good people has little to no impact when the people who are being harmed by this are all horrible people. Stay with me here. None of these people are people who were unfairly brought into hell and we are never ever introduced to someone who was either. Why should we care that Heaven is "evil" and blocking redemption when all the sinners in hell we see are the worst of the worst who would have never gotten in even if it was fair.

For the "Heaven is bad" plot line to actually work, you need people who were just one sin away from Heaven, who would've gotten into Heaven if circumstance hadn't forced them down a path that stole it from them. You need characters who aren't comedic villains but land in the middle of morally grey. Those who deserved to be in Heaven but because Heaven refused to consider their circumstances, they were tossed to burn with people much worse than them. Those are the people who should be your main cast cause those are the people who would actually be impacted by Heaven being bad/ Heaven lying.

Angel dust, for all his trauma, was still part of the mafia and likely had killed people before (showing to almost take joy in it). Husk became an overlord and gambled souls, so he had to have had blood on his hands before hell. Alastor is a serial killer, and the list goes on and on. Sure, these characters are (somewhat) interesting, but they don't make for good characters to have when the key plot line is that Heaven is a scam. Even if that fact is true, none of them were ever going to get there in the first place and this is something we also se in every single background sinner shown in Hell too. They were never close to getting there, so why would they or we care that Heaven is bad when all sinners are shown to be horrific people who are at best in the dark grey area of morality.

If you look at it from the "angel's are unfairly killing sinners" route, it still doesn't work. If the angels are killing them, what makes it different then the sinner on sinner violence that hell is full off? Why is them dying by angels this bad thing when they are just as likely if not 10x times more likely to get knifed in the back by other sinners in hell the other 364 days, especially when everyone here apparently is just as horrible as the next person. You cannot condemn the angels for killing demons and then make a joke of out sinners killing each other and never show sinners who doesn't want to kill people. Life either matters or it doesn't and when the main cast doesn't even show a care for life (outside of Charlie's who's entire flaw is her naivety), why should the audience.

On top of that, Vivzie's whole overpopulation aspect and the Heaven plot line would connect better if she actually had people like those I mentioned above, people who stole to survive but got tossed out cause stealing is technically wrong, people who killed another to protect someone else but were still sent to hell because even though they saved that person's life that person wasn't supposed to be saved, people who passively engaged in sins but never really did anything harmful under them. This would add into how Hell is so overpopulated and highlight why its so important that Heaven is evil/ why Charlie's plan isn't just a naive pathetic fever dream.

In the end, Vivzie should have never made Heaven the central plot of this show nor tried to assign this blatant good vs evil to that conflict. Neither her characters nor her writing choices are able to respond to this conflict in a way that will end or even tell the story in a satisfactory manner.

[delulustateofmind]

Married to Fire (One Shot!)

Summary: You married Eris a decade ago! Sweet moments with your mate :)

A/n: ALRIGHT! Who ordered the Eris fluff, oh wait that's me because there's like NONE out there. Okay there's a couple. Anyways, I wrote this puppy up before some drinks, so it is unedited. I'm currently on summer break in case you were like how are you writing so fast. It's because I am bored out of my delulu mind.

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: SUPER FLUFFY, mentions of keir *vomit*, drinking, mentions of gambling.

****

Eris, who was now a High Lord after the death of Beron, was somehow your mate. You, the daughter of a poor parsnip farmer, had found yourself bound to the High Lord who did not judge your upbringing. The balance, however, was difficult—getting used to living in a massive castle and all. With your mate constantly busy with his duties, he still made time for you the best that he could.

Even with your petty arguments...

"No, my flame," Eris drawled as he lay in bed reading budget reports. The velvet comforter rested below his hips, exposing his muscular chest. You, however, stood in the doorway with a huff, your twelve hunting dogs leashed up and tails wagging aimlessly.

"Please, it's cold out there, and imagine how warm they would be in our sheets," you pouted, batting your lashes and giving him your best doe-eyed look.

"They're dirty, and I don't think twelve dogs could even fit in our bed," Eris replied, raising his gaze to you. His reading glasses rested on the bridge of his nose as he continued, "Don't even think about it during my business trip to Hewn City next week either," his tone scolding as if you were a child.

You sighed dramatically, slumping against the doorframe, fake exaggerated tears pooling out. "But they're so lonely without us," you whined, giving the dogs' leashes a small tug as they all stared at Eris. Their eyes were not so pleading, as they probably did not understand the situation, but it was still an effort.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, running a hand through his amber hair. "My flame, my love, oh how I adore you and your...enthusiasm. But twelve hunting dogs in our bed is simply not practical." Eris drawled out, setting his reports to the side, completely understanding that he would not be getting work done this evening.

"I could wash their paws?" you offered in a small voice, the pout remaining on your face as you looked at him.

Eris chuckled before replying in a teasing tone, "And their asses too?" You grimaced as you looked away, your cheeks heating up. That was something you would rather not partake in.

You looked away for a moment before relenting with a sigh. "Fine...but I ordered them all dog beds with their initials," you said, looking back at him with a challenging look.

Eris's lips twitched into a small smile. "If that's what you want to spend your allowance on instead of fancy dresses and jewels, then by all means, go ahead," he teased as he patted the space beside him on the bed, a silent invitation for you to join him.

A maid ushered the dogs away, perhaps thankful that they were all so well-trained, as she shut the door behind her. You smiled as you began to crawl into bed next to Eris, nestling into his warmth and feeling his arm wrap around you.

"Please don't cause too much chaos while I'm gone, alright?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You grinned as you nuzzled closer to him. "No promises, I have to keep you on your toes, High Lord."

*****

Eris was not cut out for manual labor; could he sword fight? Of course! Could he help your family harvest parsnips? Hell no.

Eris grunted as he lifted the basket full of parsnips into the wooden trailer. You were helping your mother harvest from the fruit trees, yet your gaze constantly shifted to him. The way his muscles flexed under the autumn sun, drenched in sweat, and those leather pants so tight around his thick thighs—Mother above, save you. Your mother gave you a look that said, "Stop gawking and get back to work," causing you to roll your eyes as you picked an apple from the tree.

Eris walked over to you after loading the last basket. Using his tunic to wipe off the sweat, his amber gaze fixed on you.

"My sweet little flame, you know I could hire people to do this for your family, right?" he grunted as he pulled you into an embrace and planted a kiss on the top of your head. You pretended to be grossed out by the sweat, pulling away from him. He gave you a mocking smile and a deep laugh. "Seriously though, love, your family could move into the palace. I mean, we have more than enough space," he continued, furrowing his brows.

You shrugged in response. "This is how they like to live; it's honest work after all. My father likes to brag at the market that the High Lord loves our produce," you flashed him a cheeky smile as he rolled his eyes. "Plus, they wouldn't know what to do with themselves. They wouldn't feel like they belonged. I mean, hell, sometimes I don't—"

Eris stopped you by flicking your nose. "You do belong in the palace," his look was stern as he gazed down at you, the heat in his eyes resembling a flame. "If anyone ever dares to make you feel like you don't belong at court, I will...do unspeakable things to them," he breathed those last few words. You just nodded and pressed against his chest. Eris still had some trauma to work through, but he was better now after the years you two had been married.

Later that evening, when Eris had to go to Hewn City...

With a plop of a turnip onto Keir's lap, Eris entered the room. "Sorry I'm late," he said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He still had to maintain relations; without Keir, he wouldn't have been able to execute his father.

"Bath or something, you smell like a farm," Keir grimaced.

Eris smirked, taking a long sip of his drink. "It's called honest work, Keir. Something you might want to try sometime."

Keir rolled his eyes. "I've heard of it, thanks. But really, what were you doing?"

"Helping my mate's family with their harvest," Eris replied, leaning back in his chair. "They're good people. And it was...refreshing, in a way."

Keir raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "High Lord of Autumn Court, sweating it out in the fields. Never thought I'd see the day."

Eris took a long sip of his whiskey, feeling the burn slide down his throat. He glanced at the glass as he learned back into the armchair. “I’ll take that bath, Keir. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten why I’m here. Let’s get down to business.” 

******

Obviously, Eris could handle a drunken mate.

When you drank, you drank like a sailor. Eris would just blame it on your upbringing—how you were so used to drinking at taverns with rogues and mercenaries.

With a tug of his embroidered vest, Eris walked into the loud tavern. Dancers swirled on the stage, their scarves dancing in rhythm with the beat of the drums. In his younger days, he might have enjoyed this scene, but now, with you, well, that was all he could ask for. His eyes traveled the room until they rested upon you, chugging a pint of beer on top of a table.

By the Cauldron, you were a handful.

The crowd was cheering, "Chug, chug, chug!" as you finished and set down the glass next to fifteen others. You cheered triumphantly with the crowd.

Dear heavens, this was his mate. With a scowl, he walked over to you. You cheekily smiled at him, but some members of the crowd backed away, sensing the tension.

"Eris!" you exclaimed, your voice slurred but filled with joy. "Come join us! The fun's just getting started!"

Eris sighed, reaching up to steady you as you wobbled on the table. "My flame," he began, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement, "you know how much I adore you, but this is not exactly the best place for you to be showcasing your drinking talents."

You pouted, hopping down from the table with his assistance. "But they love me here! I'm like a legend!"

Eris couldn't help but chuckle, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. "A legend, indeed. But perhaps it's time to head home?"

You gave him a pout as he continued, “You do know gambling is outlawed, correct? You wouldn’t have been betting right, on perhaps who could drink the most?” 

Your eyes widened innocently, but the mischievous glint remained. “Who me? I wouldn’t dream of it,” you said, attempting to sound so sincere yet clearly failing at the task. 

Eris cocked a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Because I swore I saw a few coins being exchanged after you finished that glass.” 

You bit your lips, unable to suppress your nervous giggle, “Alright! A little, teeny-tiny bet.” Showing him your fingers how small the bet was. 

Eris sighed with a groan, shaking his head, “my flame, you really keep me busy, you know that?” 

You grinned as you leaned against him, “That’s why you love me.” 

With a hum he nodded, “Let’s avoid anymore gambling tonight, alright? I wouldn’t want to banish my own mate.” He smiled as you laughed, so bright and carefree, “Let’s get you home before you decide to challenge a mercenary to a duel alright?” 

The crowd murmured in disappointment, but no one dared challenge the High Lord as he guided you through the tavern. You leaned heavily against him, your steps unsteady.

"Eris," you mumbled, looking up at him with bleary eyes, "I love you, you know that?"

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know, my flame. I love you too. Now let's get you to bed."

You giggled, your head resting against his chest as he led you outside. "You always take such good care of me."

"And you," he replied softly, "always keep me on my toes."

As the cool night air hit your face, you shivered slightly, and Eris pulled you closer, his warmth comforting against the chill. Despite the chaos you often brought into his life, he wouldn't have it any other way. You were his mate, his love, his flame, and he was more than willing to handle every drunken escapade, every wild adventure, just to see you smile.

Reaching the palace, Eris helped you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. As you drifted off to sleep, he sat beside you, watching your peaceful face. The tavern escapade is already a fond memory.

"Sweet dreams, my flame," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I'll always be here to catch you when you fall."

[tumb1rprincess]

Okay, I just binged the rest of the Hazbin Hotel episodes.

Carmilla and Zestial are hot. And Carmilla is so interesting. I loved her and Vaggie's song. I actually didn't expect them to reveal who killed the angel so quickly. But I love how they're showing that even some of the top overlords in Hell care. The only question now is what Alastor is going to do with this information.

I love Vox. He has a great voice and his rivalry with Alastor is hilarious.

Sir Pentious is such a fucking loser and I adore him.

Nifty almost reminds me of Little My from the Moomins with her little gremlin energy. I don't know if we'll get any serious moments with her like we have with the other characters, but I guess we'll see.

I love how Alastor's room is a literal bayou/swamp. And him eating the whole fucking deer was hilarious.

I didn't expect for some of the others to find out about Angel and Val's toxic relationship so quickly, but I did like how it showed an uncommon angle: how trying to save someone from an abusive relationship can make things worse for the victim. I can't think of any other media off the top of my head that shows that kind of thing. But with Charlie and Husker knowing about this (and Cherri Bomb if we're counting Addict as canon), how long before everyone else finds out? And what are their reactions going to be?

I haven't been the biggest Angel/Husker shipper, but holy hell, am I on board now. Husker once being an overlord and pretty much implying that he sold his soul to Alastor much like how Angel did with Val was a development I didn't expect, as well as drawing parallels between his addiction to gambling and Angel's addiction to drugs. Hell, I really didn't except this angle they took with Husker. We only saw his bitter attitude in the pilot, and we still get plenty of that here, but I didn't expect him to also be a good people reader and being able to see how the other characters really are and what they're hiding. He's almost empathetic in a way.

All of the songs are fucking bangers, Poison especially. I listened to it once before the show and I liked it okay, but seeing it in context, it hits you ten times harder. I almost cried.

The show is so good at making the viewer feel so uncomfortable with how Val treats Angel, it's almost too hard to watch. I've seen shows tackle abuse before and they've done it well, but this was very raw and in your face and it makes your insides twist. And I love it.

Looking at the show's cast, Vivzi got so many people with Broadway experience and I love that. I feel like a lot of popular media nowadays just like to cast popular actors regardless of whether they can actually sing or not (I'm looking at you live action Disney remakes). But every actor who's sung so far is fucking good at it and it shows.

So far, I am in love, love, love with this show. I remember first watching the pilot when it was causing some controversy and I fell in love with it immediately. It almost became a comfort thing for me for a while. I was watching it over and over during 2020 when Covid was running rampant and everything was shit. I'm so proud of Vivzie and everyone else for their hard work and dedication and love. This show is so different from everything else out there. I hope now that it's out, even more people can fall in love with it.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Leon’s the type of guy to have an enemy that he knows he can’t truly hate. (ANGST WARNING)

You had been Leon’s enemy for as long as you can remember. Always interfering with his missions and getting in his way as you both searched for the same objective.

But something went wrong during a fight in which you two fought against a B.O.W. As the creature was about to fall dead, in its last moment’s it stabs its tentacle into your abdomen before pulling back and falling limp to the floor dead.

“Ha, take that you son of a bitch,” Leon says in victory right before he here’s a thump behind him. He turns around and finds your body lying on the ground with a pool of blood surrounding you. He immediately runs over to you, falling to his knees as he picks you and rests your head against his thigh, “Y/n? Y/n!”

“It… hurts,” you muttered as your hand gripped your wound to apply pressure but it was futile, you haven’t stopped bleeding. He puts a hand on top of your hand to press more against the wound to stop the flow, “I’m right here. Don’t close your eyes, listen to my voice. You’ll be okay,” he tried to sound calm but the nerves of potentially losing someone put him on edge.

“Leon,” you tried to catch his attention, your eyes brimming with tears as your hand weakly wraps around his wrist to stop him, “I don’t want to die—please—I’m scared.”

He freezes, he’s never heard you admit your fears. He’s always thought of you as someone strong and confident but now as he saw you, he felt his heart drop, his own eyes burning with the all too familiar sensation of tears.

“Dammit, Y/n, don’t say that. You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it, I promise,” he whispered as he puts his other hand against your cheek, gently holding your head up so you wouldn’t choke on your own blood.

“Leon, I’m scared,” you repeated in a quiet and shaky voice. He saw your tears spilling from your eyes and the way you held his wrist so tightly, “I know I haven’t been the most amazing person in the world but I don’t want to die. I’m sorry, please, save me. I don’t want to die. Please, Leon, I beg you.”

It broke him. It shattered him. He’s always blamed himself for not being able to save people and he couldn’t even save his own adversary despite the irritation and annoyance he felt around you. Leon is a good guy and even killing his enemies chipped at his heart.

He could only continue to wipe your tears and soothe you but he was also breaking.

But as your voice slowly came to a deafening silence, his eyes widened and he shook you, “Y/n?” He muttered in fear.

It was only then he felt your hand fall from his wrist lifelessly. He immediately couldn’t control himself anymore and he cried. He held your body towards him, almost as if with his body heat, you’ll come back to him.

You’ll come back as his enemy and he’ll be able to relive your battles together.

But that was far from the truth. You were gone. And you took a part of him with you.

[also, I’ll post part three for my Cupid doesn’t gamble fic soon. I’m in the process of revising!]

[kbwrites]

TOXIC! Boyfriend Toji

Synopsis: you’ve been dealing with toji’s antics for far too long, but can you really ever quit him??

⚝content: toxic bf! Toji x f!reader, Toji is literally the worst, nsfw, mentions of cheating, makeup sex

⚝a/n: to all the Toji apologists: SAVE YOUR BREATH. He’s toxicccc. Love it though. I hate cheating but for him I’d drop a “he knows where home is”.

⚝wc: 2k

Toji Fushiguro.

Sorcerer Killer. Gun for Hire.

There wasn’t a job he couldn’t do, or wouldn’t take. His name whispered in the darkest corners of the underground. This last job though… went on longer than he’d expected. What was supposed to be “quick and easy” turned into three weeks of cat and mouse. Shadows and whispers, close calls and narrow escapes. Shui would be getting an earful when he saw him again.

He trudged lazily up the stairs to his shared apartment. Each step was heavy, the weight of countless sleepless nights bearing down on him. As he reached the top of the fourth-floor walk-up, a tinge of annoyance flashed upon his tired face as he saw—

All of his shit in black trash bags outside the door.

He fumbled for his key, shoving it into the lock, his irritation only grew when it didn’t turn.

You changed the locks.

Dating Toji Fushiguro for two years, you had been through a lot with him. But through all the ugly arguments, empty promises, heated breakups and subsequent make ups—you two would always find your way back to each other. The cycle as predictable as it was toxic.

He was terrible for you, at least that’s what your friends would tell you. Yet, there was something just so intoxicating about being with him. Like a drug you just couldn’t quit.

But this time, after he disappeared for three weeks, not even bothering to call or text—this was the very last straw.

You lay on the couch flipping through the channels when you heard the banging on the door.

“Hey! (Y/N) Open up!” The voice of your sorry excuse for a boyfriend boomed from the hallway. You rolled your eyes, not moving from your spot. You were done with Toji Fushiguro, finally realizing that he’d never change. You hoped he’d take the hint and leave, maybe go stay with that dumb brunette you caught him with the day after your one-year anniversary.

Instead, you only heard a series of faint metallic clicks before the doorknob turned open.

And in storms Toji, chest puffed out as he watches you nonchalantly surf the tv. His eyebrow quirks up expectantly, waiting for you to jump into his arms after being missing for a month, but instead, you just roll your eyes at him.

He strides over to you, blocking your view.

“You changed the locks.” He huffed.

“Yeah, that usually means don't come in.” Your sarcastic tone only fuels his anger. He glares as he towers over you.

“You’re actin’ like you didn’t miss me.” He chuckles. You stand up, walking away from him to the kitchen. He quickly follows behind you, leaning his muscular body against the doorframe.

“Actually? I didn’t. Three weeks of not worrying if you’d come home in a body bag. Not worrying if you were laid up with that bitch from downstairs. AND better yet not worrying about you gambling away all our money. Truly, it’s been perfect.”

Toji laughs, he fucking laughs at your comment. Only serving to irritate you even more.

“So y’er sayin’ I’m only good for givin’ you stress?” He taunts, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Didn’t realize you grew a brain in three weeks.” You snap back, rummaging through the fridge for a beer. You pop the cap off, taking a sip. The cool liquid providing a brief, soothing distraction.

Toji watches you from the doorframe, his eyes dark with amusement secretly loving the way you got worked up over him. He was a toxic bastard and knew it. Thriving on the chaos he caused in your life.

“Most women would be happy t’see their man.” His tone mocking.

You scoff taking another swig. “You’re not my man anymore, Toji.”

“Is that what you think?” His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint appearing as he pushes off the doorframe, striding toward you with a predatory grace. He stops mere inches away, his rough hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. His half-lidded eyes bore into yours, their intensity igniting the white-hot anger within you.

“Let. Go.” You spit, your voice trembling with barely contained fury. His grip loosens, taking a step back to look at you.

His eyes rake over your form, being away from his woman for so long wasn’t easy. And right now, dressed in a pair of shorts and tank top—you looked good enough to eat.

“I’m done, Toji,” you sigh, setting the beer bottle on the counter behind you. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to steady your breathing.

“Y’really think I’m gonna let you go just like that? After everything we’ve been through—“

“You promised you were done with that life, Toji! And for once, for ONCE I actually believed you.” Your voice rises, your anger spilling over as you clench your fists at your sides.

“You knew who I was when you met me.” He scoffs, crossing his strong arms across his chest.

“You’re right. And I’m finished.” You storm past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you head to your bedroom. You grab his backpack and return, shoving it into his chest. He grabs hold of your wrist, his anger bubbling up to match your own.

“Bullshit. You don’t want me gone. I know you don’t.” His eyes lock onto yours, his hold firm and unyielding. You try to wriggle free but fail as he pulls you closer to him.

“It’s that little bitch Yosuke isn’t it? You wanna leave me so you can go fuck that rich asshole?”

His mind whirs with the thought of your coworker, one he’d mentioned multiple times he hated.

His jaw clenches as he pushes you against the counter, your smaller frame now trapped between the marble countertop and your ex-boyfriend’s imposing body.

“You think any of those pricks in designer clothes could handle you? That they could give you what you need?” His voice is low, a dangerous growl.

“I want you OUT Toji.” Your hands come up to his broad chest, pushing against him, but he doesn’t budge. The pain in your voice is evident. He leans in closer, chest pressed against yours. The frustration—the tension at an all-time high. This wasn’t the first heated argument or time he’s left without word, but he knew that after everything was said and done; he’d eventually come home. And now that home had been stripped of all his things. Reduced to black trash bags.

He was so angry; you were such an infuriating woman. And yet, at the same time he wanted nothing more than to be here in this moment. Seeing you so fired up, so pissed off—makes his mind go crazy. His towering figure looms over you, your bodies impossibly close, you could feel each other's heart beats pounding in sync.

And there it was. The reason why you couldn’t ever really shake the habit that was Toji Fushiguro.

He pulls you into a hungry kiss, crashing his lips into yours. The intensity is overwhelming, a mix of anger, passion, and desperation. His hands are everywhere, rough and demanding. As he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he strides toward the bedroom, each step filled with purpose.

He drops you onto the bed, the mattress bouncing from the force. His calloused hands roam your body, feeling every inch of your scorched skin. You melt into his touch, already losing your breath. He smirks at you, his emerald eyes dark with desire

“Ohhh I get it, it’s been three weeks without me huh? All you need is some dick.” Your senses are overwhelmed with him. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the faint hint of blood makes your head spin.

“F..fuck you Toji” You hiss as his lips attack your neck, he smiles against your skin.

“M’gettin’ to that Doll.”

He really was a toxic bastard.

His hand reaches for the hem of your shirt pulling it off you, leaving your chest exposed to him. He looks at your bare chest with hungry eyes. Toji’s head delves down, capturing your breast in his mouth. He sloppily sucks as his tongue swirls your sensitive bud. His other strong arm holding your waist as he works his mouth on you.

You breath hitches in your throat, your hands finding their way to his hair. Nails dragging against his scalp, tugging as he moans into your chest. He releases your nipple from his mouth, looking up at your panting form.

“Missed you so much doll, you have no idea..” he mumbles, setting you down on the mattress as he crawls between your legs. His fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with intense force.

He growls as he finally sees your sopping wet entrance. His own length straining against his pants. If it was up to him, he’d live and die between your plush thighs.

“No one’s touched my pussy while I was gone right?” He questions lowly. A hint of possessive anger in his voice as his brain imagines that idiot from your job touching what was rightfully his. He bites down onto your inner thigh.

“No! Only you, Toji!” You whimper as he nips and sucks at the skin between your legs. He moans as he hears those delicious words leave your lips. Wasting no more time he latches onto your clit, deep moan rumbling in your core as he tastes you for the first time in weeks.

Your back arches into the bed as his skillful tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves. He mumbles against your cunt.

“M’sorry baby… so fuckin’ sorry..” As his tongue lolls out to tease your entrance. His finger rubs your clit as his tongue fucks your weeping hole bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He thinks it’s ridiculous, absolutely laughable that you would even think you could leave him. Why would you? When he knew exactly what to do to make you come undone?

Your body shakes as you reach climax, your essence coating his tongue. He greedily laps at your cunt, slurping up every drop of your slick. He climbs on top of you, kissing you hungrily—allowing yourself to taste just how good he could make you feel from just his tongue.

Pulling away, he looks at you smirking.

“M’not done with you doll, on your hands and knees.” You only half register his words, mind still hazy from your orgasm. He flips you over, pushing your head into the pillow.

You feel the head of his aching tip rub between your folds, gathering your slick before sliding into you. You both let out breathy moans as his thick cock is sucked in by your walls.

“Ffuccckk, missed this pussy so goddamn much.” He groans as he bottoms out. You whimper into the pillow as you feel him deep in your cunt. His large hand rests on the small of your back as he pumps into you. His strokes long and hard, heavy balls slapping your clit with each thrust.

“You know thump. That little bitch thump. Can’t fuck you like I can.” He bullies your cunt, anger and jealousy behind each thrust. He gives your ass a harsh slap, you yelp as he rubs the sting away.

He mumbles and drones on as you moan into the pillow, his hips stutter as he feels your walls clenching around him.

“Yeah doll, juuusst like that.” He grips your hair, yanking you up, flush against his chiseled chest as he pounds into you. “Who’s pussy’s this mama?” He whispers into your ear, hot breath and raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Your’s Tojiii!” You whine as you cum on his cock. Your mind emptied, all the stress he caused disappeared as he fucks you through your orgasm, pistoning in and out of your pussy. His arm leaves your hair, wrapping it around your neck as he roughly thrusts up once more. You feel his length twitch inside of you as he cums.

You fall back onto the mattress, Toji’s weight sinks next to you, the bed dipping under his muscular frame. You turn over to look at him, his chest rising and falling heavily, glistening with a sheen of sweat that catches the dim light of the room. His black hair is tousled and damp, sticking to his forehead, a smile etched onto his scar-laden lips. He looked so good, too good.

He pulls you against his chest, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. As he whispered lies into your ear. You knew his apologies meant nothing. That you’d probably be in the same exact position next month. He was a liar, a killer, but he was yours. Flaws and all.

“Y’still want me gone doll?”

[the-californicationist]

he trims his beard

Pirate!Price/Reader

God, I want to write thirty damn chapters about Pirate!Price so badly. Someone tell me not to, please? Lol. Otherwise, y'all might be getting thirty chapters of Pirate!Price...

MDNI/18+ TW: virginity reference

Summary:

Captain John Price is king of the Seven Seas, and after he saves your life, you owe him a debt. His fee? To take you as his wife.

The Mediterranean Sea, 1708

“I just can’t…ARGH!” Price slammed his hand down on the porcelain basin as he tried to shave his chin, unable to use his right hand after the accident. 

You pitied him, but you were still terribly afraid of him. When he rescued you, you thought he had been Death riding in on his ghostly white ship. But, now that he had been with you going on a fortnight, you realized the hardened, gruff exterior was but a hard shell encasing the soft, warm center of Captain Price, leader of the Queen’s special unit of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. 

You’d been marooned on Cassadaga Island for two days, stripped of your jewelry and purse, beaten within an inch of your life, and left for dead. Your would-be husband had planned the whole attack, hoping to cash in on the dowry money. The joke was on him. Your father had a gambling problem and had not two coins to rub together. The musket he kept above the mantle didn’t even have any gunpowder in it, you were so destitute. As soon as your fiancé found out about your lack of adequate funding, he tossed you overboard on his father’s ship. When Captain Price found you there, you were barely hanging on. 

The captain had nursed you back to health, promising to chase down the vagabond and kill him for his dishonor. He’d been true to his word, slaughtering the lot of them, but during his vengeful assault, he’d been shot through the hand with a musket. You’d cleaned the wound, and he had yelled at you for the pain. Now, you were cowering in the corner of your shared room, back to being a prisoner. 

He eyed you from his shining mirror above the basin, 

“C’mere, girl.”

You edged closer. It wasn’t quick enough for him, so he crossed the room, his black leather boots banging on the ash wood of his quarters.

“I said come here,” he growled, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you over to the wash bowl, razor in his uninjured hand. 

He let go of you, straightened himself, and sighed, fixing his harshness into a more genteel tone,

“My apologies,” the words came out of his mouth oily and practiced, not at all his natural verbiage, “Would you be so kind as to trim my beard? With my injury, and my left hand being more useless than a fuckin’ hook, I am at your mercy.”

He handed you the razor and you took it from him, 

“Yes, sir - I mean, Captain. Yes, Captain.”

You were stuttering, full of abject fear at his possible retaliation. 

As you approached his face with the razor, your hand was trembling and he noticed it. Something in him softened, his icy blue eyes melted just enough for him to hold you around your waist and gaze down at your face,

“It’s okay, pretty girl. My bark and my bite are both nasty, but I won’t harm you.”

His warm body was so close to yours, and with him leaning over you, breathing into your space, you could smell the tobacco scent that lingered in his clothes and beard. His long, braided hair was adorned with gold coins, bent and twisted into it to make little beads, and he had been caramelized by the sun. At the top of his sternum, you could see thick tufts of curly hair poking from his shirt. You tried not to stare. 

“Captain,” you asked as sweetly as you could, “Can you sit, sir, so that I may reach your cheek?”

He smiled, 

“Alright, love.”

He sat on his down mattress. The bed creaked at the addition of his familiar weight. 

At this more convenient angle, you were able to reach his face and neck, so you began your task. You applied the foam in thin layers, working gently as you went, mindful that the captain kept his blades sharp enough to cut steel twine. What you hadn’t realized was that, by requesting that he sit, he was in full, direct eye sight of your heavy breasts. They were corseted up, as was the fashion, but without your normal over-dress to cover you, your nipples ghosted through the thin chemise, hinting at little pebbles beneath the surface. He had not stopped staring at them since you began to shave him. 

You looked down while you were cleaning the blade, trying to discreetly glimpse at his growing passion, curious and fearful all at the same time. His breeches could barely contain him, and his thick phallus pressed into the join of his pants. He caught you staring, and he laughed at your rosy complexion, rolling his eyes,

“Ha! Embarrassed at your thirst, pretty girl? Surely those vagabonds did not leave you a virgin during your ordeal.” 

“They did, sir,” you admitted, returning to your work, sad at having been discovered sinning with your abject perversion. 

He made a small noise, unable to talk while you were shaving his prominent chin, careful around the curve of the bone. He liked to keep the sides long, trimming them with shears, but he always shaved his chin. You followed the razor’s line down his neck, careful not to knick his protruding Adam’s Apple. 

“Is that so?” The captain purred. 

“Yes, sir. At my fiance’s order.”

“Ah, I see.”

He was silent again, his eyes growing hungrier at the sight of you. His hands returned to your hips as the waves tossed the large vessel on the high seas. You stilled, feeling your belly flutter, wondering if it was seasickness or excitement from his newly focused touch.

“You alright, love? Bit choppy tonight. Storm’s brewin’.”

“Oh,” you nodded, finishing with his neck, “There. All finished, Captain.”

He moaned, holding your hips tighter, situating you between his open knees,

“Shame, that. I was enjoying your skillful hand, pretty girl.”

You blushed, setting the razor cleaned back in its case,

“Thank you, Captain Price. And thank you again for your rescue. I would be dead if not for your mercy. I am in your debt.”

“Aye,” the Captain eyed you slyly, “a steep debt at that. Your dowry should solve that for us. Then, you’ll be on your way. When we land in Málaga, your father can pay me.”

“Sir,” you gasped, “I don’t have one. My father took it to the game house and lost it on his cards.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you looked down at him in shame, hoping his mercy was deeper than his greed. 

“Hmm, I see. Then, perhaps you would consider a captain as your betrothed?”

You looked up at him in shock, and he was amused by your fear. He used one hand to hold you by the hip, and his other, uninjured hand delicately pulled at the silk ribbon of your bodice, aiming to free you from your painful restraints. 

“Y-y-yes…sir,” you could feel the heat on your cheeks, “My family would be most pleased with such a match.”

“Bugger your family, girl. They left you for dead. If you’re mine, you’ll be only mine. Once I have a bounty in my grasp, there’s not a man on God’s green earth who could take it from me. Does that scare you, girl? Do you want to run off home, turn to the cloth, become a nun instead?”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, sir. I owe you my life, and if it is my hand that you wish, I must oblige you.”

“I wish not your hand, love…” His tone was darkly suggestive, “Well, maybe at first.” He laughed warmly. 

It was a joke that you had missed, but you knew it was your innocence that kept you from divining its meaning. In your core, your body yearned for him. Seeing him command his men, the fiercest swords on the Seven Seas, watching him take down pirates and vagabonds like it made his heart beat in his breast, it was mystifying. His huge muscles and broad bones made his tall figure all the more imposing, and every port you landed in, women swooned over him while the men cowered in fear. Yes, you’d enjoy him as a husband. No one would ever dare lay a hand on you again. 

“What are your terms, Captain, should I accept your proposal?”

He ran a finger into the hole he had created in your leather bodice, letting you feel his warm touch through the thin fabric of your chemise. It electrified you.

“You’ll be mine, and only mine. I’ll be yours, and only yours. When I fill you with my seed, you’ll carry my children, and you’ll love them in earnest. You’ll sail with me, and learn the trade. There’s no comfortable manor house awaiting you, girl. What say you?”

“I agree to your terms, sir. But, I have one of my own.”

“Name it.”

“You’ll not lay a hand to me or our children, no matter the height of your rage.”

“Never. You have my word.”

Looking into his eyes, softened and vulnerable now, he meant it. You felt relief for the first time in weeks. Safe, protected, cared for, and welcomed into his adventures. It was everything you’d dreamed of. All of your childhood friends had dreams of servants and painting rooms and buying linens, while you had wanted to see the world. Here he was, offering it to you. 

“I accept.”

“As do I, love. Now,” he finished removing your corset and bodice top, letting it fall to the floor, “as your husband, I’ll have what I’m owed.”

“Yes, Captain. But, please,” you felt a tear roll away from your wet lashes, “be gentle with me.”

“I promised no such thing,” he said, lowering his mouth to your nipple, sucking it and wetting the silk of your chemise, using his hand to pull down the fabric on your other breast, exposing it to the sea air. 

You gasped, feeling his hot mouth explore your skin, your nipples tightening in the heat of his attentions. He was using his tongue to flick back and forth across the tip of your breast, not caring that you were trembling at every swipe of his tongue or thumb. You moaned, involuntarily, as you felt the sparkle of pleasure rush into your belly, making you wet under your skirts. While you had explored yourself plenty of times to discover the hidden secrets of your body, to have a man - especially such an aggressor like Captain Price - do it, it was so much more exciting. His forbidden fruit made you clench your legs together, upset and tingling within your core. 

“Mmm,” he praised you, “Like that, love?”

“Yes, Captain,” you whispered softly, placing your hands on the back of his neck, rubbing the firm musculature you discovered there. 

“Good girl,” he told you, pinching your nipple cruelly to make you moan again. 

He kissed you then, full and with his long, ravenous tongue, forcing it into your mouth to feel your tongue and throat, the silky skin of your cheek. As he kissed you, he was busy rucking up your skirts, searching for your dripping heat. He found it, and he stilled. Barely moving, he stopped kissing you and looked up into your eyes with his stark blue ones, a look of pure delight on his face. 

“Oh, my stars. There it is. You’ve been hiding it from me. So willing? Tell me the truth. Have you been hungering for me as I have been for you?”

It would not be proper to confess such a thing, even to a man who would be your husband. You shook your head in denial, pressing your lips together to keep from telling the truth. 

“Say it! Tell your naughty thoughts to me, love. This is not the cunt of a frightened girl.”

You blushed, red as a rose, unable to meet his gaze. 

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he moved his finger inside of you then, gently sinking into his drooling sheath, ready to send home his sword to it.

“Y-yes,” your voice was barely audible.

“Yes? What have you been thinking of?” He returned to your nipple, pressing his finger deeper into you, massaging your walls as he explored.

“You…when you fight pirates, sir. You look…”

He chuckled, biting your firm nipple softly, teasing you,

“You like seeing me murdering those devils, do you? In all my days, I never thought I’d find a lass who had a taste for war.”

“Not the war, sir. Just the warrior. You seem to be in command of the chaos, and my body…well, I guess…I am unsure how to describe it.”

He pulled you down to the bed and tossed you on your back, rutting against you with his length, letting his hardness press into your core through his breeches. 

“You like seeing me in charge, hm? Your captain, barking his orders, tossing those traitorous rats into the drink, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” you confessed, rolling in the broiling pleasure he was building inside of you, his hand knuckle-deep inside of your core. 

“Good,” he said smugly, “Then, I have a command for you.”

You looked up at him, watching him roll your skirt up above your knees, his eyes never leaving your dripping folds. He smiled when he saw it gleam for him. 

“What do you ask of me, my love?”

“Open your legs, girl. Feed yourself to your Captain.”

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

How 'bout I stay here and you fight? 

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Let me start off by saying I'm sooo sorry for the time it took me to update this, I know that it's been quite a gap since the last upload. Hopefully the wait was worth it though, because I have written about 30 pages for you here, so there's lots to sink your teeth into! As always, thanks for all your support and interaction and all the questions you have about the series, having everyone's lovely messages and art means a lot 💕 knowing I have this community to come back to while I stress out about life stuff is amazing, so thanks for being there! Enjoy the next update ☺️

Part 8 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

“Ghost before you-”

“Before I what, Sneak?” Ghost spat, shaking with the effort it took to contain himself. “Before I tell Price? Before I jump to conclusions? What? You gonna try and tell me those aren’t what I think they are? Are you going to keep lying to me? Well go on then, tell me what you think I want to hear, Sneak. It’s what you’ve been doing this whole time isn’t it! You selfish little lying fuck.”

“No! I never wanted to lie to you Ghost, I just-”

“You never wanted to lie to me? Yet, you let me believe that König had screwed you over that day in the gym. Mustn't have been some cheap lay by the looks of things, that must have been you that clawed up his back like that! And to think all this time, I thought better of you,” he snorted, pounding the wall next to you with his gloved palm. “You made us look like idiots running around after you, trying to make you feel better all this time! You’ve had us all concerned about you while you’ve been fucking that cunt behind our backs!”

You whimpered and shrunk into the cold plaster at your back, distantly feeling like you were lying on a slab at a morgue. Everything in you said that it wasn’t long until you were going to be meeting your end. Ghost was wide eyed and loud as a lion as he tore into you, now slapping both his hands on the wall and sandwiching you firmly between him and it. You gulped and clenched your fists, trying to swallow the burning feeling that crept up your throat like a trail of gasoline. Everything was falling apart and you couldn't even see the pieces through the wreckage to try and save them. 

“I didn’t intend for that to happen…it just happened that way. You assumed that König had slept around - I didn’t say it - I just didn't correct you. I couldn’t correct you!”

“Do you think that helps? Do you think it’s better knowing that you took advantage of my trust - in all of the 141’s trust? Do you know how much it hurts to realise that someone that you thought you could count on could be capable of deceiving you for months? That someone that you treat like family apparently doesn’t give a shit and would throw you away for a bit of Austrian Muscle? He’s barely even a person under all that fight and armour, he’s a fucking monster, Sneak, and yet you’ve left us for him!”

You clenched your teeth and rubbed the tears from your cheeks, furiously shaking even though you tried to resist. Ghost knew he had you overwhelmed. He was taking full advantage of your upset, taking his revenge on you now and tearing you down. After all those months you spent running ahead of him, keeping on top of all your lies, you’d really thought that you might manage to get away with it all. Not anymore. Your feet were knocked from under you now.

“I- It- It wasn’t like that!” You protested, choking on your words.

“How wasn’t it?” Ghost roared.

“Because he’s not a monster! We care for each other, he- he cares for me, Ghost.”

“Oh, clearly! You’d have to, it has to be worth it, doesn’t it? You’ve made your choice haven’t you? You’ve gambled your place in the 141 all these months and now your chickens have come home to roost. You think you broke our trust by going against my order that day on the field? How do you think this elaborate fucking lie is going to look to Price? It’s going to ruin you, Sneak.You’re going to break up the team!”

“You mean- you, and Pr- Price is going to kick me out?”

“Who knows what the fuck he’ll do! All I know for fact is that this is going to shake the trust of everyone here. It sure as shit rocked my faith in you, who knows what the others will think when they hear about this. Doesn’t make sense to keep someone around that’s capable of going behind our backs like this.”

A boulder settled in your stomach then. Ghost’s voice had dropped severely low, his angry snarling dying down to a quiet threat. His eyes were narrowed and staring at you with a deadly precision, betraying the scene that surely played in his head - the one where he strangled you for making such an idiot out of him. 

“Ghost, please,” you whimpered, closing your eyes. “I didn’t want things to be this way. I had every intention of staying away, but it’s just…Well…I couldn’t give up on König, I care about the team and I love you all like brothers, but that doesn’t mean I could just abandon König and all the feelings I had for him. I just… I just thought that I could have both.”

You felt like an idiot saying it out loud. 

In that moment a haunting realisation overtook you, the minute you opened your eyes and saw Ghost’s almost hollow mask sockets staring back at you through the gloom, you knew something. You’d made your choice all those months ago. You’d chosen König. That’s how everyone would see it anyway, they’d never understand how much you wished you could be a part of both worlds. 

You knew Ghost could see exactly what you were thinking. He snorted as all the features in your face drooped, backing away from you. You sniffed and pushed yourself off the wall, barely keeping yourself from stumbling as you chased after him. 

“Ghost, wait!”

He chuckled, his throat emitting a dark and choppy sound, one you hadn’t heard before. You shivered and tried to catch up with him, boots slapping hard and fast against the floor as you attempted to match his furious pace.

“Ghost, please, you can’t tell Price yet!”

“And why’s that, Sneak? You want a little accomplice in this, hm? You want someone else to go against Price just to make you feel better? The 141 isn’t a fuckin’ joke, even if you want to treat it that way.”

“I’m not asking you to lie!” you cried out, finally skidding to a stop in front of Ghost. “I’m asking you to wait.”

“Why would I do that?” he scoffed.

“Because we have a job to do,” you said, steeling yourself as much as you could even while tears still ran hot as acid down your cheeks and over your jaw.

“Oh, so now you care about doing your job, huh?”

“I care about you all, I care about the team, I care about this job more than anyone could ever know. Even though I fucked up…even though what I’ve done says otherwise, I do care. That’s why I’m asking you just to hold onto this until the job’s finished. I know exactly how this will go down Ghost, I know everyone will say the same as you have. Do you think this is what the team needs right before going away?”

You sighed and rubbed a palm over your sweating forehead, running your fingers over the wet strands of your hair. You’d been caught dead centre in your web of lies, the least you could do is untangle it with a sense of grace. Let your ruin come at the end of your last mission, let Price handle it all with a clear head, it was the least you could do. You had to make him see that.

“You can’t afford to lose anyone before you go after, Rousseau,” you continued, “Not the night before we leave. Just let me help you with this and then I’ll go to Price myself after all this is through. Just let me try to make things right and then…and then if- if Price wants to kick me out he can. I accept that…just let me help.”

Ghost halted in his tracks and balled his fists, kinetic energy fizzling away as he seemed to consider swinging them. You winced already, scrunching your eyes as you prepared for him to send you flying, but the hit never came. He opted for rolling his shoulders back instead and he paused on your words. For a moment, you worried he might reconsider and give you that well deserved blow, you weren’t completely relaxing yet. Tension sizzled through you both like a bomb fuse. 

Deep down though, you knew he wouldn’t follow through on any of the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. Simmering in the burn of his gaze was a man that was deeply hurt. Even though you were probably one of the lowest life forms in his eyes at that moment, you were still family and he would never punish you like that. Even if he would willingly watch you go into exile.

“You’re telling me you feel fit to operate right now?” he asked, his words coming out with careful measure. 

“There’s no other choice. I have to be,” you said with a bitter laugh, feeling like if you continued anymore, you might go hysterical. “All I know is that if we bring this to Price now, it puts the whole mission at risk and becomes a distraction. I accept that I fucked up, and that you probably can barely stand the sight of me, I do. For the sake of a mission though…don’t you think that we should get through this and let the team deal with it after? The last thing anyone needs is this. Please Ghost, you know I’m right. Even if this is the mission I go down on, at least let me do it without putting the others at risk because of what I’ve done.”

Ghost grunted and looked away from you, letting his body sag as he weighed your words. You’d gotten through to him, you’d delayed the inevitable. You knew it. You just needed him to say it. 

You wished that he’d just tell you he’d let it go completely. For a hopeful second you wondered if maybe some time would stop him wanting to let Price know at all. Though that was never going to happen - if not for the fact that he was hurt from being lied to, then it would be the complete destruction of his faith in you. 

Why couldn’t you have just listened to Ghost from the start? Why had you hurt him like this? 

It was all getting too much to carry. Your heart thumped slowly and filled with lead and oil, thickening the blood in your veins like tar. Your whole body felt wrong, your lungs were gasping just to get by. Your head was spinning as it tried to process all that had happened, rattling with the drum beat of your pulse. It took every ounce of energy you had left just to stay upright, feeling like you might start swaying as you lingered in Ghost's heavy shadow. 

“Alright,” he said eventually, voice gruff and distant. “Fine.”

You swallowed thickly and risked eye contact with him. That only served to reignite his anger though, the shadows in the hallway seemingly shivering around him as he loomed over you again.

“I won’t tell Price yet, but I’m warning you - you wait a single moment to tell him when we get back from this, then I’ll find that dopey Austrian cunt, and I’ll string him up and make you watch as what little light he has in him leaves his miserable fucking corpse. Do I make myself clear?”

You froze before nodding stiffly, body jerking as he shoved past you. 

“Clear,” you whispered, talking to no one as you were left alone in the empty grey corridor. 

-☠️- 

You confined yourself to the darkness that night. You were alone in your room, curling your hands around your knees in bed with the lights off, heavily breathing like some kind of demented horror movie creature. The Only thing that haunted you though was your mind. 

There was no getting away from it, no sharing the load with anyone else, who was there to tell? It was just you and your horrible thoughts, locked up tight together with no respite from any voices of reason. It wasn’t like you could tell the others. 

König had tried to message you, but you couldn’t face him. You just messaged something quick back, reading only a couple lines of what he’d sent you first. You couldn’t talk to him either. There was no way he could know about what Ghost knew or otherwise you’d be kicking off the fight of the century.  

Even with the complete lack of light in that tiny space, you still continued to see the bright whites of Ghost’s mask in front of your face. His hard blue eyes were burning holes into you like the pits of hell. It had your heart racing. Your skin felt too hot, your lungs burned with effort, feeling like they would burst with your heart ramming into them. Nothing could calm you down.

Knock.

Knock. 

You froze in your place, back stiffening somehow even further against the corner you’d shoved yourself into. You weren’t expecting company. Part of your mind wondered if Ghost had given in and told Price. Though as you thought on it for a few more seconds you knew in your heart of hearts that the moment, if Price knew about your relationship he sure as fuck wouldn’t come quietly knocking on your door. The sound was too soft, like someone that was trying to be discreet. 

Only one person that could be - surely.

You padded over to the door and took a breath, holding the cold handle in your palm for a moment and letting it recenter you. If it was who you suspected it was, you couldn’t let him know that you’d been found out. He couldn’t get mad at Ghost and give you away. He couldn’t have the stress of your relationship reveal running through his mind while you were in an active warzone. If something were to happen to König because of your stupidity, then Price finding out about you both would be the least of your worries. 

Why had you chosen the path that had put everyone you love into such a horrible position? Why had you lied so much to them all? 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a second, only just opening the door as a tall figure had begun to retreat in the darkness. You watched as the giant stopped in his tracks and then you smiled softly when he walked back to you. The red tears of his mask were the first things to reveal themselves as he stepped into the flickering light that buzzed by your door. 

“Did I wake you?” König asked, honey thick voice coming in at a low whisper. 

“No,” you sighed, gesturing for him to come in, “couldn’t sleep. How come you’re here? You haven’t messaged.”

“I couldn’t sleep either. I wanted to see you before we left - see you alone,” he answered, stepping into your doorway. “And i did message, you messaged me back - remember? You were a little blunt with me, so I got worried.”

Oh.

You shut the door behind him and watched as he walked confidently past you and over to the lamp by your bed. He’d only been in your room a couple of times, despite your insistence he shouldn't risk showing up. Though even those stolen moments were enough for him to remember the layout as if the room were his own.

He flicked the switch on your lamp that sat on your bedside table and looked back up at you then. He was bathed in warm yellow light like an angel that had been sent to soothe your troubled head. Even his eyes seemed to melt through the edge that had settled over you. 

“You don’t look very good, darling,” he noted, frowning over at you. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

He tilted his head at you and with that, seemed to remember he was still wearing his mask. His eyes had grown wide like pale blue whirlpools. With fumbling hands, König tugged the fabric over his head and got himself out of the draped material, his tired face was revealed. His hair blew around before it settled into a messy nest on top of his head and his dark eyes refocused on you once he’d been freed from the hood. They were baggy with exhaustion. 

You knew that feeling well. Not that you could tell him the real reason why.

“Hm?” he hummed, walking towards you now. “What’s got you so upset?”

You shook your head and tried to smile at him, accepting the hug that he wrapped you into with a sigh of relief. You didn’t have a good answer for him. Instead you pressed your head into his chest and inhaled his scent, taking in hints of gunfire and metal that his mask had left behind and, of course, the faint notes of your berry tea - betraying his thievery. 

“Have you been stealing my tea again, mister?” you asked, trying to distract him.

“Me? Stealing from you? Never,” he chuckled, the sound reverberating through his body and soaking through to yours. 

“More like all the time!” you grinned, finally chancing a look up at him again.

“Well really, you only have yourself to blame,” he said, stroking his thumb across your chin. “You should never have got me hooked on it if you didn’t want me to indulge myself every once in a while.”

“Mmm…Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.”’

You shook your head at him and tapped him on the arm, prompting him to release you. He let you go, but followed immediately behind you when you went to sit on the bed. He took little time in swiftly drawing you back into his hold once again, nestling you both into the wrinkled sheets on your sad little bed, adjusting himself into your extra cushions. 

His presence might have been making you feel uneasy, the pressure to not tell him anything growing with each passing second. However it was undeniable that the weight around your body was helping you, scattering your worries the tighter he held you.

“Are you going to tell me?” König pressed.

“Tell you what?”

“You know what,” he said dryly. 

You huffed out a sigh. He wasn’t going to let it go though, he repositioned you then and made you face him, keeping you pinned and lying on your side. 

“I know that the reason you smell of berries is because you don’t lift your mask all the way when you drink my tea. Then it gets damp and rubs off onto your shirt,” you said softly, smiling to yourself as you thought of him guiltily sneaking cups of it.

He looked down at you pointedly and rolled his eyes. Ok, so he wasn’t going to let it go then. You stared back at him for a moment before you lay back against his chest and proceeded to close your eyes, reaching out into the beyond to try and think of something to say. Anything other than the truth behind your insomnia. 

“I’m worried about this op,” you whispered quietly. “And what comes after.”

“What? Why?” he asked, wrapping his arm around you tighter. “Why on earth would you be worried?”

“There’s a lot riding on it. It’ll be dangerous too, more than any of the other missions we’ve been on,” you shrugged. “Then there’s the unknowns that’ll come after it as well.”

“You know what will come after it,” König said, a smile weaving itself into his voice. “We will go to Austria together and I will take you on many adventures and buy you lots of good food, real food.”

You laughed a little at what he said and relaxed against him. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart thudding away behind your head, working away, strong as ever. Maybe the world wasn’t going to completely end, you thought distantly to yourself, maybe even if you didn’t have the 141 you could still make the best of things. Hell, maybe you could move to Austria. 

In choosing König, you weren’t going to be alone after you were kicked out. You would still have him. It didn’t lift the burden that was sinking your heart any, but it sought to bring some light back into your mind. The thought of mountain trails and mornings waking up to his gentle kisses and calloused hands trailing their way down your back weren’t so bad, maybe there was something even a little enticing about those thoughts... 

Your life would be in tatters, sure, but it would still be worth living. There would still be some happiness, even if you were down the love of four family members… Even if you never got to speak to them again. 

“I am looking forward to our trip, that’s for sure,” you replied measuredly. “I just…I mean- I guess I don’t know what things will be like after all this is over. We’ve been working together through this mission through our whole relationship and now that it’s coming to an end… I dunno - I guess I’m just intimidated by all the unknowns.”

You felt ok saying that. It wasn’t completely false. In reality you were far more worried about the situations you knew you’d face rather than the ones that were unknown, but ultimately Price being told about your relationship was still a mystery in terms of punishment.

You had no idea what he might decide to do with you once he’d found out about your betrayal. For all you were aware he could’ve been planning to send you off to one of the worst deployments that you’d ever known in your life. What then?

“You always worry so much” König sighed, tracing his hand up your body so that he could stroke the side of your face. “Know that whatever we both do next…no matter what…you will have all of my heart, and I will do anything to make sure that you get to hold it in your arms whenever possible…because I love you.”

You froze in place, eyes going wide as you processed what he said. He had spoken the unspoken, he had finally put into words the feelings that you knew were there, but both of you had been too guarded to let slip. He was telling you that he loved you, giving you a gift while you lied straight to his face.

“I love you and I will do anything to make this work. I’d dig a hole through to the otherside of the world just to be with you, there’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your cheek. 

You let a little breath of silence hang in the air for a moment and bit your lip, feeling a tear track its way down your face while you battled with your throat to stay silent. You couldn’t let him know what you were actually upset about. 

You loved him too after all. 

And for that reason you couldn't reveal the truth that Ghost had uncovered, it would send him spiralling. Would compromise him and mission. You could put him in danger, more so than you had already by involving Ghost - and soon Price’s - wrath. 

“I love you too, König…” you murmured. “I love you so much.”

He let out a breath at your admission, you felt it whistling past your neck. You shivered, and tried not to think too hard on what would happen when he found out you’d withheld the truth from him that night. 

“I love you so much, in fact, that I’m looking past the fact that you chose the night before a huge operation to tell me that,” you said with a laugh, trying to distract yourself from the demon’s in your head. 

He laughed too. You both relaxed into the vibrations of each other's bodies and then lay quietly for a moment, staring up at the old scuffed ceiling above. 

Though you couldn’t linger there for long. You pushed your way out of his almost iron grip and rolled around, propping your head up so that you could see his face. You were surprised to see the look of consternation that greeted you. It was like looking into a mirror. His eyes were half lidded as he looked down and his lips were pursed, the pink line of his scar stretching taught as he thought deeply on something.

“Well, seeing as you love me too… Would you offer me some assurance?”

You reached over to him and cupped his jaw in your hands, adjusting his face so that he’d meet your gaze. You searched his eyes for a moment and suddenly something clicked in the place as you were finally broken out of your wallowing. 

“Assurance for whatever it was that you couldn’t sleep over?” you guessed. 

He nodded, the scratch of his stubble sharply rubbing against your palm. You smoothed your thumb over his cheek and he leaned into your touch, somehow looking younger and smaller than he usually did. 

“Things will be intense tomorrow…I will be breaching rooms with countless unknown men that will be shooting at us, and I’ll be having to make quick decisions - act on instinct. Whatever you see tomorrow, know that I love you and that I wish you didn’t have to witness any of it. In another life, I’d spare you from ever having to even know about it. I just need to know, that after we come back, no matter what you see, that you won’t run from me. As much as I’ve tried to protect myself, I know that that’s all over now. I know now there’s no way to save myself from the hurt, the same way I couldn’t protect myself from anyone else I’ve ever loved in my life. I just want to know that you’ll give me a chance to explain myself if you see something that you don’t like again… that you won’t leave me.”

Oh König…

You felt the remainder of your tears threaten to spill over and flood your sheets, but you held them back and closed your eyes instead, thinking for a moment.  You hadn’t reacted well the last time you’d heard him at work. How would you react if you were to see him in action now? 

You shuddered at the thought, but let it pass quickly. At the end of the day, you were all going there to reap an unspeakable violence to a group of people that had committed atrocities in return. There were no pure intentions and there were no good players between any of you. There was only putting an end to a group that threatened to kill innocents. If König was going to be at the head of the speartip, then he had to be damn sharp. You couldn’t have him ineffective with worry over what you might think.

Couldn’t put him at risk.

“König, I promise that whatever I see…whatever I think or feel in the moment…I won’t shut you out. We can talk about it all when we get home again. But whatever you do, don’t put yourself in harm's way trying to protect my feelings. We’ll make it through this together, no matter what, ok?”

He smiled at you, a twinkle returning to his sapphire irises. He turned and kissed your hand, you still held his head, and you both closed your eyes for a moment, revelling in the private moment between yourselves. 

“Ok,” he finally replied. “I feel like I can sleep now. Why don’t you try to get some rest as well? See if you can shut off that busy mind of yours.”

You both settled into a silence after that, letting yourselves relax into the calm. At some point you turned back around and a little while later, König switched off your lamp. In the back of your mind you worried that you’d be discovered come morning time, but König assuaged your fears before you could air them and whispered to you, tickling your ear as he told you that he’d set an early alarm. 

“I love you, König,” you whispered, your half smile lost to the night.

It felt like something to giggle over, like a secret between school children. You could barely contain your smile. 

“I love you too,” König replied, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll love you always.”

-☠️- 

König had stayed true to his word and had left while the sky remained dark, shutting off his near silent alarm on the second ring and scurrying out quietly before anyone would be any the wiser. Anyone that didn’t already know anything anyway.

It felt like Ghost had almost sold you out the moment that you’d stepped foot onto the transport. The sound of your boots nervously clanging against the metal ramp drew his attention, and all at once his conversation with the Captain ceased and he fixed his eyes on you with a glare.

It was enough to freeze you into place, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him until he released his mental hold over you. You Clutched furiously onto the handle of your backpack, hoping like hell that it wouldn’t shake too badly.

For a few painful seconds you were stuck still, though just as you thought that Ghost might say something after all, he turned away again and blanked you completely. Price gave him a frown and said something low under his breath, but whatever it was Ghost shook his head and carried on with what they were discussing before.

It was like some kind of twisted game of red light/green light. If that’s the way he’s going to play things this’ll be a hell of a way to go out, you thought to yourself. That is if you even made it out of the mission.

You were supposed to be on Ghost’s team, and at that point you weren’t completely convinced that he would bother too much to look out for you anymore. No, now it was just you and Horangi, and as much as König seemed to get on with him, you and he had never exchanged more than a couple of words to each other. 

Would Soap and Gaz offer swapsies?

You shook your head at the thought of Gaz ever going off plan, especially one that Price had approved. No, instead of hoping for better, you faced reality and took a seat far away from Ghost, throwing your stuff down for what felt like the last time. You sank down on your cracking knees, settling next to your bulging bag and holding it like a plush toy. The squishy material was solid under your grasp and made a great pillow for you to rest your head on. It was enough to lull you into a sense of security, enough to make you close your eyes. 

“Sneak!”

Your head shot up and you lost your breath, staring wide eyed into the direction that you’d heard the voice come from. Was it Ghost? Was he going to reveal everything just to spite you now that you were getting comfortable?

No. Soap looked down at you instead, shooting you a grin as he saw how much you’d shit yourself at his shout. Stupid bastard. You hit out at his leg and huffed when he sat down next to you, feeling like his loud obnoxious voice in your ear was just about the last thing you needed.

And just to sour your mood more, just to make matters all the better, he shoved your shoulder and almost sent you keeling over and tumbling over to Ghost and Price. As if Ghost needed another reason to want to get back at you. 

You threw your hands out and pushed yourself up, attempting to shove him almost twice as hard back. He’d dodged at the last second and had you wheeling forward this time, though at the very least you had your bag to fall onto instead of Ghost this time. 

“What the fuck are you being so childish for?” you grumbled, recovering and rubbing the sore spot where he’d shoved you. 

“Ooft, someone’s grumpy, eh?” Soap tittered, smile never leaving his face. “Did you not get much rest last night?”

You grunted and folded your arms, staring straight ahead like you might melt the plane’s walls. 

“The fuck does it matter to you?”

“I’ll take that as a yes then - as usual.”

Soap raised his brows, challenging you to defend yourself. Normally you’d probably shove him again or throw a verbal barb at him, but that day you were in no mood to play. Especially not when the truth was going to come out sooner rather than later, and you weren’t convinced you were going to be on joking terms anymore. 

No, it wouldn’t be long until he knew about you and König, and your mind was already filled with the sight of his angry frown setting itself upon you. It was better that you didn’t make it all worse by pretending everything was fine, you reasoned, so that being the case you ignored him and planted your head back down on your bag. 

“Crabbit little twat,” Soap snorted. “Better find your sense of humour before you wake up again. And if you’re gonna be in a mood with me, then you can forget sleepin’ and drooling all over me too!”

You grunted in response, and gave him nothing else. You were too sick with worry to respond properly, even despite the ache that developed as you realised that that might be one of your last ‘friendly’ interactions with him. The weight in your heart increased tenfold, feeling as if it were a sand timer growing heavier by the minute. Better not to think about it. Better to shut it all out, to shut down. 

Unsurprisingly your mood wasn’t lifted by the sleep you caught up on. It only served to keep you from agonising about your situation until the plane slammed down onto the dodgy countryside landing strip. That shocked you back to life again. From then on, until you reached the safe house, your mood remained sour and kept the others from bothering you much.

When you got there, of course, you had to buck up and try to act normal. You couldn’t have the others picking anything up, couldn’t let them think you were anything else except tired and grumpy. It wasn’t that far outside the realm of normal, you never slept very well whenever you had to travel away anyway. 

When it came time to go over the briefing, you quietly set yourself as far away from Ghost as you could muster and stood around the projector wall, listening to Price’s briefing intently while you locked your arms into a folded position. The light splashed across his face in brief interludes, his weight was shifting from foot to foot as he walked you all through the plan in his booming voice, he was restless. He was right to be. 

Price knew that the intelligence that had been gathered was of questionable accuracy - he told you all as much and Laswell confirmed it. She didn’t look that much more confident that him. The men who’d spilled their guts to the interrogators had varying degrees of incentive to reveal the true nature and layout of their base and all of you knew that they were highly fantastical to boot. It didn’t matter how many exercises you’d run through, none of you could’ve really known what was in store for when you raided the warehouse. 

You’d looked round the room as he’d talked about that, scoping out the faces of all the men that you were going to fight alongside. Your eyes slowly ran over the 141, König, Horangi, and all those of the other team that Price had assembled to lock down the perimeter. There were hard eyes all around, everyone stayed quiet, listening to the captain until his very last word. Even Laswell had limited interjections, she was just as stone faced as everyone else, letting Price take the lead.

“I want all of you to be at the top of your game. On a mission like this there is zero and I really do mean zero margin for error! You make a mistake on Rousseau’s home turf and you will get yourself or one of your teammates killed. All of you must communicate, I want clear positions and status updates on comms. You will tell me where you are in the warehouse and you will let me know who you come across, is that clear?”

You all responded, an impassioned “yes, sir!” rang throughout the room, ricocheting off of the walls and back into the crowd  like a bullet. 

“Good,” Price said curtly. “Now, enough talking,we move out in thirty minutes. And remember - Zero margin for error! Clear communication! Don’t get yourselves killed.”

“Yes, sir!”

You all sounded off for the last time and set to work scurrying around, gathering gear and preparing the trucks for departure. You’d be driving out until you reached the edge of the forest and from then on you would be trekking out to the compound, a group of old warehouses that had belonged to a logging company before it had gone out of business years before. You were in for a hard day.

Though as Ghost reminded you, when he icily stared at you from the otherside of the room, the hardship wasn’t going to end at capturing Rousseau. Your problems were only going to multiply from that day on.

You were the first to break eye contact that time, nervously shifting away and grabbing your gear, double checking your ammo and your pockets. You stroked your hands up through the curves and rough textures of your armour and bags and went through your mental checklist, trying to fill your mind with something other than all the swirling thoughts that threatened to compromise you. 

“All good, Sneak?”

You snapped your head to your left side, meeting Gaz’s tilted stare. 

“All good, Sergeant,” you answered, repacking a few of your rounds. 

“Sergeant?” he chuckled.

“Did your rank change while I was asleep?”

“No, but you seemed to,” he shrugged.

“I’m stressed, there’s a lot at stake here,” you said, swallowing down another of your silly lies. “But all that matters is that I’m here right?”

Gaz shook his head as you reminded him of the words he’d said to you months before. Ever since he’d lectured you about letting König distract you, you liked to tease him and call him mini Price, reciting his words back to him without fail. I wanna go out there knowing you’re here with us and not turning yourself into a walking target. You’d do your best Price impression whenever you recounted them. 

You didn’t bother this time - not while Price was in the room with you. Gaz rolled his eyes and patted your back, almost turning away to sort his own things before a smile lit his face. 

“Well with a good attitude like that I might just keep you around when I get promoted to Captain,” he laughed, walking away before he could see the smile dropping off your face. 

Gaz might’ve wanted to keep you around - but would Price? 

-☠️- 

It was unsurprising, to say the least, that you were going to discover John Rousseau’s last stand wasn’t going to be easy. No. He was intent on going out with a bang.  

It had been a difficult breach, you’d lost a couple of the men that Price had sent to crack the warehouse open with you. They’d fallen in the fatal funnel that had been created when the enemy worked out your entry point. Despite the high levels of bloodshed though, König remained mostly unharmed.

You’d tried not to let yourself get distracted by him, but even still, had found your eyes magnetised to him at times, had seen him shooting quickly and forcing enemies close when he needed to, basically folding people in half in an effort to break them. Some of the sounds their bones made still echoed in your ears. 

Everything had moved so fast. Your mind had very little bandwidth to process it all. One moment you were on the first floor, desperately trying to locate the stairs and get to Rousseau’s ‘war room’, the next you were deep into the building, continuing to blast through doors with Soap at the head while you, Ghost and Horangi secured the rear. 

Gunshots echoed out throughout the hallways, lights flickered and sparked and rained down electrical orange confetti as they were shot from the ceiling and swung out like some kind of deadly assault course. The floor in front of you flashed white and gold and soon you were drowned in darkness. All the lights in the room crashed down into their final resting places.

Ghost was in the room across from you, Horangi was with him too. You’d decided to separate when you’d seen a lone man run into the little office, you were convinced you’d seen someone hauling a massive gun across his back. It was hard to be sure what it was, maybe some type of PKM, but whatever it could have been would do a lot of damage, you knew that much. Though now, as you were left alone in the shadows, it had felt like your mind had played tricks on you.

Your breathing was shallow, and no matter how thick your earbuds were, your ears were still ringing from all the abuse they’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been crammed under an old church bell and someone was hitting it on all sides. There was a lightning storm in your head and a heatwave through your whole body. 

Part of you was almost begging to be in the debrief with Price already. 

You flicked your night vision down and scoped the room, tracing through the green fog for any signs of enemies. There was nothing obvious. The pulse of your speeding heart thumped away steadily in your ears while the room remained deathly still. Where the fuck are you?

Something flashed out of the corners of your eyes and before you could even turn to see it, you were being overwhelmingly set upon. You stepped backward and leveraged your weight, getting yourself in a good position to strike your assailant and baulked when he stopped you in your tracks and smashed you against the wall. 

Ouch.

The air shot out of your lungs, your goggles had skewed over your eyes, but after a few seconds of shock you were thankfully able to dodge the figure from hitting you and shoved them off to your side. With tears in your eyes, and knees screaming out, you got yourself up. 

It was fight or die. You picked up your gun, scraping the heavy weapon against the floor, and unloaded it into your attacker, just as he tried to rush you again. 

His body collapsed to the floor in a spray of mist and you watched motionlessly as he fell forward and into a lifeless heap at your feet. The gun was like a lead brick in your arms, but still you held it aloft, waiting for anyone else that might try to get the drop on you.

Why’s it so quiet?

“Sneak, what the fuck was that?” Ghost called out. “And where the fuck did you run off to?”

You could hear him distantly through in the other room, but his voice was also straining loud and clear over the busy comms, you knew your reply would be too. All of you had been running around for a lot longer than you would’ve liked. Then again, it was a blessing that you were still up and kicking if anything. There had been so many surprise attacks launched on you, you were lucky to only sport a few bruises for your troubles. 

“In the room across from you LT. Took down an enemy, heading back to you now.”

You took one last look around the ruins of the office, and once satisfied there were no more hidden assailants, you walked toward the doorway. After plastering yourself to the wall, you took a look up and down the hall, pivoting out a little just to be sure no one was going to take a lucky shot. All clear. Well, one end of the hallway anyway, the other was completely blocked off by a stack of fallen units and desks. 

Probably not a good sign.

Were they directing you?

You crossed the threshold fully and bolted into the next room, locking eyes with Ghost as he perched his foot on a fallen desk chair, it was rattling from his weight. Horangi gave you a nod from Ghost’s side and glanced over to the head of the room, keeping watch over Soap as he set up his charges with no small amount of grumbling. That wasn’t a good sign either. 

Your body was getting tired, your back was aching from all the weight you’d been hauling round. The only thing getting lighter was your ammo. You were praying that you were close to the end, hoping that wherever this supposed room was that Rousseau had locked himself into, it was going to reveal itself soon. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“Stay on that door Sneak, make sure no one else goes looking for hiding spots” Ghost directed. “What’s taking so long, Soap?” 

You turned and followed Ghost’s order, side eyeing König as he stood over your struggling teammates, dwarfing Gaz and Soap under his watchful stance. He was breathing heavily, you could see the dramatic rise and fall of his hood giving away his fatigue. Other than that though, you were relieved to see that he was still unhurt.

Focus!

You snapped your attention to the hallway again and ignored your boyfriend, pulling your thoughts away from him completely. It had been a long time since you’d been on a mission with König and you were unused to the amount of space he took up. He was clouding your thoughts, sending your brain churning out worry like a spitting volcano as he kept charging through doorways and getting up close and personal with men as if he were indestructible.  

You shook your head and cast your eyes through the shadows, watching out for movement. You couldn’t linger over König any longer. 

Soon you realised that there wasn’t any noise. It wasn’t right. Things never went the way you’d trained for almost one hundred percent of the time, but it was strange that there hadn’t been more men around. You’d encountered most of the men on the way in and now that you were further into the heart of the building they were sprouting up in numbers few and far between. That combined with the fact the building felt strategically blocked off in areas was all just one big red flag, waving and buffeting like a sail in the breeze. 

“LT, there’s explosives already set here,” Soap shouted. “I couldn’t be sure before…but they've hidden them in the door casing. Powerful stuff by the looks of it too. If we try to get through this we could end up blasting ourselves to the moon by the looks of it.”

You whipped your head around and back to the group at the door, watching as they all stepped back. All at once everyone's heads snapped to Ghost and he frowned deeply enough that it could be seen through his eyeblack.

“Price, did you get that?” Ghost asked, speaking clearly for the comms. 

“Copy,” Price said, his voice crackling through all of your headsets. “Can you find an alternative route ahead?”

“Not on this floor,” Ghost responded. “This is the only way up.”

“Fuck!”

You winced at Price’s outburst and bit your lip. Should you speak?

Fuck it.

“There haven’t been a lot of men compared to what we expected either,” you noted. “Anyone else get the feeling we’ve been set up?”

Everyone else seemed to have the same thought, Gaz nodded your way, König looked like he wanted to scratch his way out of the walls and take you with him, Ghost narrowed his eyes. Was he annoyed you’d stated the obvious? You frowned over at him, but he moved shortly after that, sidling up to the window and taking a cautious peak outside. His back visibly stiffened as he caught a glimpse of something. 

“Price, there’s a truck heading out the gates to the south side. Do you see it?”

“We’re tracking it now. Ghost, take both of the teams out of the warehouse, whatever’s going on, I don’t like it. Meet us back at the extraction point, copy?”

“Copy, Captain.”

Ghost motioned his head in the direction of the doorway you were still guarding and while the others filed toward you, you stayed in place. You had to ensure no one would surprise them while they stepped out of the room. Ghost passed you and patted your shoulder, his touch like a lightning shock to your system. 

As much of a professional as he was, you hadn't expected him to be at a point where he was making an effort to praise you. A warmth spread over your chest then. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t let yourself get too carried away. You put it to the back of your mind and followed up the rear of your group, looking around as you passed through the hallways of fallen men. Bodies littered the floors and by then most of the hallways were dark and devoid of any lighting. The green haze of your night vision goggles continued to wave unsettlingly and the crunch of debris was ever present under your boots. 

“We need to move slowly and quietly,” Ghost directed, heading toward the front of your group. “If the bastards have set up bombs there’s no telling what way they were trying to direct us and what happens if another one of them catches us alive. Any one of them could have a detonator, and we know from previous encounters they’re not shy about martyring themselves for the cause.”

Your heart rate picked up, but still you kept marching ahead. The group moved forward like a little troupe of ants, following your masked leader to what you hoped was safety. Each skittering stray piece of furniture under your feet had you jumping, every breath you took was like a gust of wind. Even with your ears ringing it felt like every bit of muffled noise was coming through like the beginnings of a dance anthem.

Knowing that someone with the power to blow the whole building on you might jump out at any second wasn’t great for your weakening composure. That wouldn’t stop you though. Your group powered on down the halls until you reached the lower stairway, and each of you took every step with care, pointing your weapons in different directions just to be sure that every angle was covered. 

With your gun pointed down, you were able to see that there was activity on the bottom floor, you could see people moving down below. You tapped Soap on the shoulder and pointed them out, allowing him to pass on the message until it carried on through the line and down to Ghost. All of you stopped moving then and watched the little group, stuck in silence while they propped open a piece of wood that had been covering a doorway in the stairs.

Ghost extended his arm and gave you all a series of clear hand signals, watching down the line to make sure you all read him clearly. Stay silent. Stay on me. We’re following them.

There was more pressure than ever to make sure that your steps were soundless. Your heartbeat was in your ears and your body was buzzing with how tightly your muscles were wound. Every step took you closer to the bottom and to the hatch, every successful movement gave you hope that you wouldn’t be found out. 

When your group reached the bottom, you were able to see that the men had replaced the sheet of wood and old construction PVC to try and hide the secret exit. Clearly that hadn’t been meant for your eyes. Perhaps it was lucky that you’d come to the stairway at the right time - it was hard to say, maybe they’d meant for exactly that to happen.

Ghost looked to König and together, without having to communicate, they shifted the board and König took position at the front. As always, he was first to breach.

All of you crept into the blown out entryway and were surprised to find a tunnel at your feet, complete with a very haphazard ladder built down into it. Aside from that, the little room you were in was empty. König replaced the piece of wood over the door once everyone was inside and soon you were surrounded in complete shadow, staring around at the others through the green hues. 

“Price, we’ve found a tunnel under the stairway of the building. What do you want us to do?” Ghost enquired, keeping an eye on the tunnel to make sure no one down below indicated that they’d heard him.

The comms were quiet, nothing but the ghostly whisper of static crumbling away at your ears. All of you eyed each other, stares hard enough to the cut the air between you all. The little room was getting hot with all of your bodies filling it, each breath getting harder to take. 

“Price, come in,” Ghost demanded. “Laswell? Anyone?”

Nothing. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Soap breathed.

You pursed your lips and kept your stare fixed on Ghost. His eyes were jumping between you all like he was deciding on his lunchtime football team. He took a moment to think, trying to bring clarity into the stuffy room, he was probably waiting for Price to come back in too, but nevertheless the line remained dead.

“Right. Here’s what we’re gonna do. More than likely this entire building is rigged to blow, we need to get out, but more than likely this tunnel is a sign that Rousseau must be here. He would never have left all his men behind, he likes to make a show of being on base and ‘protecting’ and taking control of his men. König, you’re gonna lead Horangi and Gaz through the back entrance at the loading bay and head to the extraction point, find out why command isn’t talking to us. I’m taking Sneak and Soap with me and we’re gonna see what’s down there, see if we can’t dig Rousseau out.”

“What?”

All of you turned your heads as König spoke, the sharpness of his voice coming out muffled through his hood. 

“Did you not hear me right?” Ghost asked.

“I heard you clearly, Lieutenant,” König sneered. “But I don’t agree with that course of action. You can’t just go wandering around tunnels with only two people with you, that’s suicide. Price gave his orders before the line went down, he was very clear, therefore we should all be going to the extraction point.”

“This isn’t the time to disagree with me, König.”

“It is if you’re going to get yourself and two of your subordinates killed,” König said, clearly gritting his teeth. “Not to mention you’re abandoning us with god knows how many men waiting outside to stop us from leaving.”

“Nice of you to care about what happens to us,” Ghost remarked, “Then again there’s probably only one person you’re trying to protect here, isn’t there?”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. It was like a small fire had broken out in the room and now you had the urge to go beating down the secret entrance and throwing caution to the wind. Was this really going to happen?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” König asked.

“You know what it means. Now would you like to press the issue or would you like to get back to your job and do what you’re being paid to do, you fucking goon.”

König seemed to shoot you a sideways glance, you couldn’t really tell with his visor down, but before you could think to warn him otherwise he decided that it was indeed time to press the issue. Every fibre of your being wanted to throttle him then. If your choice was crawling into a death tunnel or ending up in an argument between Ghost and König during an operation, then tunnel of death it is!

“Paid personnel or not, at least I’m trying to get us all out safely,” König retorted. 

“All? Trying to make sure we all get out, or just trying to make sure you’ve got a warm hole to crawl back to at the end of this? Which is it really?”

There was an almost tangible silence in the room. It was as if there was a thick bubble coating you all, preventing a single whisper of noise from escaping. You couldn’t even hear the others breathe, not over König anyway. He was panting like a charging bull, breaking through the bubble, he sounded like he was ready to tear Ghost down into a stump.  

“Ghost, what’re you talking about?” Soap said, not able to contain himself. “We shouldn’t be arguing, we should be moving! Let’s just go.”

“You’re not going down into that tunnel, Sergeant!” König warned, making a move to stop Soap.

“Or what?” Ghost asked, rising to his full height and jumping into König’s path.

König stood silently, he didn’t say anything - but he didn't allow Ghost to intimidate him either. He stood perfectly still, besides straightening his back, and eyed his opponent. The two of them looked like windup toys ready to strike. 

“Nothing to say?” Ghost sneered. “Then move.”

“Lieutenant, be reasonable,” König said. 

“I am being incredibly reasonable, König,” Ghost laughed, a dark chuckle rumbling from his throat. “In fact, judging by the way you’re acting, maybe Sneak can tell you just how reasonable I’m being.”

Everyone’s heads turned to you, navigating the thick silence that followed with ease. Their night vision goggles stared you down as if they were being programmed to move in sync. You swallowed a thick lump in your throat and gripped tightly at your gun, holding onto it like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. What were you supposed to say now?

“What’s going on?” Gaz sighed, clearly at the end of his tether. 

“Tell them what’s going on, Sneak,” Ghost ordered. “Tell them exactly why this little song and dance is happening right now. Go on. Let them know why Captain Rags has his face in a twist over you going down into the tunnel. Let’s get it out there for the world to know.”

Every one of his words hit you like a knife in your gut. There were blades sticking out at all angles and it was taking all your strength just to stay up. So this was it? You were truly going out in a blaze, but it was far from glorious. 

“Sneak?” König said, his voice strained with confusion. 

“König, Ghost found the pictures in your wallet when he knocked your stuff off the rack yesterday,” you said quietly. “He knows we’re together.”

“What the fuck!” Soap whispered.

“Sneak, what do you mean you’re together?” Gaz asked. “You can’t be together, Price will fucking kill you…”

Horangi remained silent. 

“Apparently they’re not ones for following orders,” Ghost sneered. “Otherwise we wouldn’t even be having this discussion would we?”

Ghost looked between you both and you growled out at yourself, sinking into disbelief that all of it was really happening. It felt surreal to be standing around arguing in a building that was full of god knows how many explosives. Why was it that König could never just follow orders? Why couldn’t you? The room was so hot it felt like you were all starting to cook, smelt like it too. 

“König, just do as Ghost says and take the others,” you commanded. “At this rate we’re all going to get blown up and this whole argument won’t even matter.”

“Sneak-”

“No, König! Just go, we can all talk about it later.”

“That’s if you even make it back later!”

“Don’t think like that. Just take Horangi and Gaz back to extraction and find out why Price hasn’t answered us. Otherwise none of us are getting out of here!”

König continued to stare for a second more, but finally he’d seen sense. He shook his head and furiously muttered something to himself in German before he walked back to the exit. He gave you one last look and with that, slid back the wooden panel and walked out with Horangi in tow, missing only Gaz as he left you all. 

With the door open and König gone you felt like you could breathe a little easier again, but as soon as you looked back at the others, the feeling went away. Gaz shook his head at you and walked out, mumbling something that was too low to hear and soon it was only you, Ghost and Soap left. 

“Steamin’ Jesus, Sneak. What the fuck were you thinking? Have you really been lying to us all this time?”

You sighed and looked at Soap, watching the way his mouth downturned in disgust. A horrible nauseous feeling permeated in your stomach and in your throat, but you couldn’t pay too much attention to it. You had to keep your head on more important things. 

“Clearly I wasn’t thinking,” you sighed. “Look, I’ll answer whatever questions you want after we’re out of this, but we need to get moving.”

“Agreed,” Ghost said, already heading for the tunnel. “We’ve had enough distraction already.”

Ghost cut Soap off from interrupting, shooting him a hard look before he took a flashbang from one of his holsters and primed it. He threw it down the tunnel and waited for a reaction. Nothing. After being met with silence, he quickly flew down into the darkness, leaving you and Soap up top. Soap surely burned a hole through his night vision and into you. 

You shivered and followed Ghost, cautiously setting your foot on the ladder, not liking the way it wobbled with Ghost’s weight and yours. There wasn’t much to be done about it though. You had to get down there quickly and make sure he had backup.

You scurried down and stuck one foot behind the other, releasing each of the metal rungs like they were on fire. It didn’t take long until you were at the bottom and eventually Soap followed you both and rather nicely decided against booting you in the head on his way down, dropping to your side instead.

“There’s no one here, but they’ll have heard that, no doubt,” Ghost warned. “Stay close and lets find out what these fuckers are hiding down here.”

You nodded your agreement and followed him down the tunnel, watching the rickety support beams with a cautious eye. König had been right to worry.

What’s he thinking right now? Is he hurt?

Not again, stop thinking about him. Focus! 

The tunnel didn’t seem like it had been in operation for very long. Something that had seen more use would surely have been built better, you reasoned, not looking like it could crumble at any second. As you took a few more twists and turns and continued to follow the path it didn’t seem to get much better. The walls looked hastily dug out and like any little disturbance might bury them. Though as you all turned another corner and followed the winding walkway, you were surprised to find yourself in a rather large cavernous room.

It was built solidly and looked far more like a permanent structure, it was supported by thick metal beams from which overhead lights were suspended and hanging down from long wires. It also contained a plethora of scaffolding like shelves, housing a few abandoned looking wooden crates, some of them looked like they’d been raided, others were dusty and dark with disuse. You flipped your goggles up and watched the two men at your sides repeat the action, finally noticing the true extent of all the grime and blood that had covered them both. 

“What is this place?” Soap wondered out loud. 

“Looks like some kind of storage facility. Well, it was one anyway,” you remarked.

You didn’t miss the way Soap narrowed his eyes at you from the side of his vision. He advanced forward through the looming racks while you stayed behind and watched the other men go. You had to give yourself a second for the bile to stop rising in your stomach. To say that being on an op with two men that had it out for you was making you feel uneasy was an understatement. 

However you didn’t have the luxury of lingering on for very long. Once you noticed Ghost heading to the set of shelves that blocked your view of the head of the room, you started to follow after him, ensuring that he’d have some cover. Part of you felt better being around someone that had had longer to digest the news. 

Once you’d flown past the racks and over to Ghost you began to realise that there was a thrumming noise emanating from the far side of the room. It rumbled and growled and grew harder on your ears the closer you got and as soon as you made your way round the racking you saw the source of it. A big set of metal doors.

Soap joined you from the otherside, clearly finding the rest of the room just as empty as you had. Ghost looked over to Soap then and back at the door, motioning for him to get close. 

“Soap, do you have the borescope?”

“Aye, hold on, I’ll sort it.”

Soap reached into his bag and pulled out the long snake of wire and fetched his drill. From there he made a small opening in the door with quick precision and sent the coiled camera through, taking a look at the monitor as he did so. The monitor quickly flashed on and you and Ghost were able to peer round and see a flurry of men running around a mixture of freight and pickup trucks, loading cargo onto them. There were some that were beginning to drive off, halting just as they made it onto the big ramp then ran up the far side of that room. 

How on earth had they managed to hide that? 

You frowned as you watched on, realising that the last trucks were beginning to get closed up and prepared for driving off, you could hear the echoes of the doors being slammed shut. The men were shouting louder now, driving each other to go, go, go. You watched Ghost out of the corner of your eye, waiting for him to make a decision. All until the final man walked into the centre of the room, he was surrounded by a group of heavily covered up muscle men toting machine guns like they were little more than big boys with pretend sticks in the playground. The man walked in the centre of them with a confident strut - he looked just like he did in the videos.

“Holy fuck, is that Rousseau?” Soap whispered.

Ghost nodded tightly.

“Brothers! We have done well today, the enemy safehouse has been destroyed and the rest of the soldiers will still be trapped in the warehouse trying to route us out. Let us leave and go to our new base, onwards and upwards my friends!”

The enemy safehouse has been destroyed? Price? Laswell? Were they ok?

You widened your eyes, but you didn’t get much time to think about Price and the others. 

Rousseau had sped over to one of the trucks and once inside, had set off a cataclysm. The doors to the ramp opened, bathing the basement in startling sunlight and from there the explosions began, a loud series of bangs that shook the room like a hurricane, each one unsettling the walls and floor as they got closer. It felt like a tiger leaping ever closer, ready to land straight onto your belly and tear you open. 

What the fuck!

“We need to get out of here!”Ghost roared. “Head for the trucks, we can try to get into the one at the back. 

He kicked at the door and luckily it burst open, allowing you all to run forward and into the next room. Because the room was so long, you were still covered by shadow and no one seemed to notice your group’s appearance. No one was shooting at you anyway. 

Your throat burned as you ran, your mind was racing, intent on following Ghost as he stuck to the walls, keeping yourselves hidden in the darkness. He was racing out ahead while you and Soap tied with each other, running neck and neck and panting like hounds as you propelled yourselves ahead of the blasts. The room was really shaking now and while the last truck began to pull away and ascend up the ramp, your eyes teared up. 

No, no, no. Not like this!

You pumped your legs a little bit harder and Soap did the same, managing to sprint ahead like you were all in a murmuration, moving fluidly and in sync with one another. With that effort made, you all managed to jump onto the last truck, detaching from the wall at the last minute before attaching yourselves to the back. You all grabbed onto what holds that you could, affixing yourselves to the bolts that kept the doors closed and held on for dear life, watching on with horror as you saw the warehouse burning up in the distance, leaving it in a trail of smoke. 

It was then you were finally able to hear the crackle of comms and a blended mixture of broken up accented shouts, German, Korean and English. The others were trying to contact you. 

Had they made it out ok? 

“Gaz, is that you?” Ghost shouted out, trying to adjust his headset while he gripped onto the bolt. “We’re on Rousseau, we’re out of the warehouse. Did your team make it out?”

If you weren’t busy being terrified for everyone’s lives  you would have rolled your eyes. 

“LT, is that you?” Gaz called out, his voice finally coming through clearly. “Are you all ok?”

Ghost didn’t get a chance to say anything to that, he was quickly cut off.

“Lieutenant, respond!” König snarled, his voice snapping out like an angry wolf. 

“We made it out,” Ghost confirmed. “Did you hear what I said? Where are you? We’re following Rousseau, we’re on one of his trucks. His men must’ve been instructed to set this up for him upon capture. They must’ve had a plan to move when they knew we were coming.”

“We made it out, we started heading for the extraction point, but we got cut off by Rousseau’s forces in the woods. He must’ve left men behind to try and stop us from getting out, we got em’ though. We still haven’t heard any word from Price. What direction are you heading in? Should we follow?”

“We got word that they destroyed the safe house,” Soap said. “Price and Laswell might not’ve made it.”

You finally turned and looked up, blinking back at the rush of air as you changed direction and looked at Soap. He looked like a terrified cat that had got itself stuck up a tree. Both of his hands must’ve been white knuckling the bolt from under his gloves - he was holding onto the same one as you, standing over you while you crouched low and hooked your feet into the groove of the bevelled doors. The extra grip was helping your shaking body. 

Why couldn't Ghost have just let you and König pair off? You’d have taken jungle warfare over hanging off the back of a speeding truck anyday. It would have avoided the whole stupid argument back at the tunnel too. In that moment, while you held on for dear life, you realised that there was a lot of things that you’d have wished that could’ve been done differently. 

“Don’t follow us,” Ghost said, taking back control of the line, “Try to find out if anyone made it to the extraction. You hear that, König? Make sure that we can make it out of this, don’t do anything stupid!”

“Hard to say what’s stupid when your definition seems so different to mine,” König snarked.

“König, don’t be a smartass! Just try and find Price so we can get Rousseau,” you growled. 

Ghost tilted his head at you, clearly surprised that you’d been the one to tell him off for that. As much as you were relieved to know he was ok, and as much as you’d like to comfort him, you knew the mission was much bigger than yourselves. Getting everyone out safely and trying to successfully capture Rousseau was the most important thing and you could only do that if you were apart.

The line remained quiet for a second.

“Ok, we’re heading to the extraction again now,” Gaz confirmed. “We’ll let you know when we reach point.”

“Copy, Sergeant.”

You looked up at Ghost and then at Soap, watching as both men struggled with staying stuck to the truck. This wasn’t going to work long term, you could feel your own arms wanting to give out, it wouldn’t be long till you’d all come tumbling off and crashing onto the dirt road. You had to figure out a way to get to a more secure location. 

“Ghost, do you think you can hold on to the truck and try to support my weight at the same time?” You asked.

“Why?” he barked.

“If you hold onto me, I can try and climb up the truck and get myself on top,” you explained. 

“And then what about us?” Soap growled. “All very well sorting out a nice place for yourself up there.”

“If I move up there, then you can crouch next to Ghost and open the door on the side we’re standing on,” you said, glaring up at him. “That way we can all hold it so it doesn’t swing out and you two can climb in and shut it.”

This wasn’t the time for accusations. You waited for them both to share their thoughts, and jumped when the truck hit a bump. It almost sent you all flying. Soap yelped and hugged into the bolt tighter and Ghost grunted. You fumbled as your feet were displaced and wobbled, your hands slipping off of the bolt and sending you sprawling backwards. 

Ghost reached out and grabbed you in the nick of time, just when you thought you were about to be grated parmesan on the side of the pebbled road. You huffed out a breath and grabbed a hold of the bar, swallowing down your pulse as it tried to climb out of your throat. 

“Right, get on with it,” Ghost said, “I can only hold you for so long.”

You shook your head and had to remind yourself of the plan. That close call rocked you.

Without any more interruption, you grabbed onto the bolt on Ghost’s side with both hands and swung your legs up, planting them against the wall while Ghost kept his hand flat against your back. As you got higher up, his support dwindled, but from there you were able to reach around the top and kick your legs against the doors. With one last grunt you were able to get yourself fully on top of the truck, but kept yourself belly down on it, ensuring that you wouldn’t be seen. 

“Ok, I’m gonna hold onto the door now. Open it when Soap’s in position.”

The other two fumbled around, getting themselves steady. After a few moments of contoroting themselves around one another they were able to open the door, it was heavy and it took everything in you not to go flying out with it even with Ghost holding it from his position too, but you were able to stop it just enough so that Ghost and Soap could climb in as they both took turns to hold the door alongside you.

Once they’d disappeared inside and snapped the door shut, you realised that there was a small fault in your plan when you were left gripping on for dear life. Not to mention how much colder it was on top with all the wind rushing past your face. Then there was also the bugs…

“Nice work, Sneak,” Ghost congratulated, voice coming in quiet over the line. “I’m gonna get soap to drill a hole in the ceiling. Have you got your knife with you?”

“Yeah, why?” you asked, frowning as you slowly worked out where he was going with this.

“That should give you something decent to hold onto.”

“Are you serious? Can’t you guys cut a hole in the ceiling for me?” you huffed.

“Who do you think I am, Qui-Gon fuckin’ Jinn?” Soap retorted, you could hear the drill going in the background. “Must’ve forgotten my lightsaber at home. Beyond blowing the thing off, how am I gonna cut a hole in the roof, sneak?”

“I’m not asking you to melt the whole roof off soap, you must be able to make a small hole with that drill, just make a few drill holes and weaken the metal!” you growled. 

“Negative. We need you up there, Sergeant,” Ghost interrupted. “We need someone who can see ahead and tell us when the trucks are stopping or if we leave the forest. If they reach base or they leave us with no cover we need to get ready to jump off and hide.”

You sighed and watched as the drill bit poked its way out behind you, grating through the metal with a sound like grinding teeth. You would need to turn and slide forward a few inches to be able to reach it, but it looked like that was your best way to keep on top of the truck.

Without anymore stalling, you flipped around and watched as it disappeared and appeared a couple times more, forming a ragged little line. That would be enough for your knife to eat through.

You shakily reached behind you and to your knife holster, gripping the handle like a vice in your hands, whatever you did you couldn’t let it fly from your hold. With that in mind you quickly extended your arm and stabbed it through the hole, gritting your teeth as your hand slammed into the metal. That was surely going to bruise,

“Could’ve done with some warning, Sneak,” Soap huffed. “You almost took my finger off.”

“Poor baby, maybe you’d like to swap places,” you retorted. “See how you like holding onto the top of a truck with nothing but your hands.”

“Watch it, or I’ll send that knife flyin’ out,” he barked back.

“Shut up, Soap,” Ghost growled. “Keep the line clear. Sneak, let us know what you see, copy?”

“Copy that, Ghost.”

You hardened your gaze onto the horizon, watching as the trees came waving by and flew into your periphery, and adjusted your position. With both hands firmly wrapped around your knife, you were deadset on keeping your fingers wrapped around it with a snake like constriction. In that moment you were picturing it as Rousseau’s neck, already seeing red as you thought about Price and König and all the shit that you’d been through since chasing after the bastard.

You were going to get him. You were going to make him pay. 

If König, Gaz and Horangi didn’t get back to you soon with good news, then you were fully prepared to unleash hell on him. It didn’t matter what Price was going to do when he found out about you and König, it didn’t matter about the rising blood and seething vitriol that would surely come with the revelation. Price was the one that helped shape you into the soldier you were, he was the one that had gotten you back alive from countless missions, he was your reason for marching on in some of your toughest fights. He cared about you and he believed in you - it was why he was so protective in the first place.

If Price was gone then it wouldn’t be long until the killer met the same fate…of course only after suffering for their actions in the meantime. 

Next part here