#had heard that this was recorded a while back

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

shots fired | s.r. x fem liaison!reader (inspired by 3x09. mentions of vomit, blood)

“nobody move! or a bullets going through this pretty head.”

you could feel large drops of sweat gliding down your temples, breath exhaling shakey as if that could pull the trigger of the gun that was digging into your skin. along with the fact many fbi agents were also pointing their guns towards you, many trying to get a shot of your capture without bringing you harm.

you scanned the room, emily and derek held their arms steady with laser focus, hotch was outside his office door with his arms held tight paired with his stoney expression. penelope and jj were hidden somewhere and spencer, spencer was staring at you with the most heart wrenching gaze. his mouth slightly agape with his thin brows pinched tight, a hand hovering over his weapon.

the hot tears warmed your cheeks, “spence…” whispering his name to yourself. you didn’t want him here, if you were to die tonight you don’t want this to be your last memory of each other and to traumatize him indefinitely. you wished it to be of the two just laying in your bed this morning as you watched him do his daily cross word in record time, you kissed his cheek as the reward.

“you don’t want to do this man,” derek spoke, “the repercussions for this will be severe. don’t do something stupid.”

the man behind you huffed, “not something for me to worry about. first i’m gonna need this one to get me access into the document room and all of you are gonna sit tight in here, unless they’re willing to have blood on their hands.” your capture roughly shook your body, “get mov-“

there was a loud noise then a warmth coating the the side of your face, a heavy weight dragging off your figure then down to the floor. with a ragged breath and stunned eyes you glanced towards your feet, dark red-

“sweetheart, hey just look at me.” hands cupped your cheeks and gently turned your attention away from the scene to connect with darting brown eyes. spencer ducked his head down trying to catch your dazed look. “just focus on me. take deep breaths.”

his words were muffled, his touch burning against your frozen skin. “spen-“ barely able to say his name before needing to run towards a trash can and throw up the contents from your stomach. heaves and whimpers mixed together as fellow agents walked around to assess the situation.

a hand caught up your hair and rubbed circles along your shoulder blades, “just let it out.” you had one more heave in you then you tied up the bag before allowing yourself to lean against spencer’s comforting body. he tucked your head into his neck while you tried to monkey hold him, wanting him close as possible.

“your safe now. your safe.” mumbling the words for your sake just as much for spencer’s. it feels different to be in this type of situation in your work environment, they shouldn’t be able to get past security and past multiple armed agents. while out in the field it’s the unsubs territory, their playground and your the outsider.

“i-i didn’t want you to-to see it.” stuttering through the panicked hiccups. spencer’s fingers carded through the hair beside your ear, “see what?” he whispered in your crown.

“my death.” barely audible, a whisper of air leaving your tongue. but spencer heard, his body shifted and he moved so he was directly in your eye-line, hands cupping your cheeks. he wiped away something wet, “it never would have come to that. we would have found an opening, thankfully his back was to the door and jj took her shot.”

you sniffled, “i didn’t want to leave you,” trembling fingers reaching to grasp onto spencer’s sweater. “i-i don’t-what i’d-“ your breathing picked up as your mind raced.

“sweetheart, don’t think about that. just listen to my voice and feel the fabric of my sweater. you need to ground yourself, the adrenaline is fading and you’re hitting a fast crash. okay, count to five with me.”

“one.” “o-one.”

“two.” “t-t-two.”

“three.” “…three.”

“four.” a deep exhale, “four.”

spencer inhaled, “five.” you exhaled, “five.” feeling your head dip from exhaustion. spencer kept you pressed to him, taking on your weight. praying to a thousand gods he doesn’t believe for this miracle they granted him.

[the-quaint-quail]

get stuffed!

jade leech x reader

jade fafo when he messes with the wrong shark.

i can imagine reader purposefully cuddling with a large stuffed animal because jade is being a bastard asshole refusing to snuggle you in favor of space.

fine. cool.

you understood, you get it you do.

jade’s just like that sometimes…

so he should be fine with sharing a bed with sharkie right!

jade’s eyebrows furrow and head tilts to the said, parroting what you said as you excitedly jump off the bed. matching pj set, courteous of jade, rubbed against itself as you made your way off the bed and yo your bookbag.

floyd’s curious now as he rolls on his side and haphazardly drops his home onto his bed.

you find what you’re looking for after removing a few belongings…. and y/n, he’s gonna be honest, how the fuck did you fit that in there??

the shark is a fat, fluffy navy shark the size your upper upper body.

floyd rolls back in hysterics, looking at you then his frozen twin as you skip your way over. falling onto the bed with a giggle, you land and bounce on the shark until it rolls you onto your side.

you squeeeeeze what would be considered the shark’s neck as you feel pairs of eyes watching you intently. you squeeze in intervals, breath and body relaxing with each tensing of your muscles.

it’s only when jade sees your body limp a few seconds later does he realize you’re asleep.

“ha! looks like your future mrs. would rather squeeze a shark to sleep than you” floyd teases, screaming when jade launches a pillow mock 5 at him in retaliation. 

jade looks back at you ignoring his twins whining and the pillow that smashes into his head.

he stares like this for a good ten minutes, unmoving despite floyd publicly stating for the record he’s creeping even him out. jade ignored this as his wrist and elbow cracks with disuse. hos hand slowly reaches for the shark with concentrated look.

once he had the shark’s nose in his grip it expertly yanks it out of your tight embrace and switches it with himself.

“threes a crowd, dont you think” he looks over your sleeping head, tucking it into his chest as he heard a soft thud in the other side of the room. floyd’s complains but eventually pack his things and calls azul, most likely going to another guest room so jade could have more… privacy, with his courting partner.

he untangles himself from you momentarily and rushes to the plushie. with the skill of a soccer player he manages to wedge it between the door that floyd was in the middle of closing. sharkie can only stare in horror as jade’s face was covered from the darkness of night.

he was sprinting towards the sharkie before punting it out the door and down the hallway. the stuffed animals thumps against the wall like a ping pong ball. he stares into its beady eyes the moment it stops ricocheting off the lilac walls and comes to a sad roll.

he closes the door with a victorious smile.

“jade leech.”

his eyes widen and shoulders hunch as he spins to see you sitting up in bed, arms crossed. he couldn’t see your face as the water’s netty light didn’t reach that far up and instead illuminated the carpet.

“where’s sharkie.”

“ in a better place” he says earntsly eith a hand across his heart.

“you better bring him back or i’ll withhold sex from you for a month. a month. “

his smile falters… so no kitty time? 😞

“she’ll miss me” jade whips a tear as you throw a pillow at him.

“2 months and i won’t help you during your season!” you hissed, flopping back into bed with your arms crossed. jade pictures steam blowing out in steady streams from your ears and nose.

“it was good while it lasted.” he sighs, fighting a smile at the annoyed whined at his name.

“i won’t cuddle you then.” you’re pouting now. upping the punishment has jade’s smiling slightly faltering… he could live with that as you’ll get tired chastity eventually.

jade climbs back into bed ready to snuggle when you jerk away, feet kicking at the covers as you shoot up from bed.

dropping to under the bed jade pens over as he watches you stretch and feel around. he’s able to catch a glimpse of your distressed look as you scurry around the room in search of your shark plushie.

after snooping around, you’re facing the door angrily when he you break the pregnant silence. “jade, if he’s in the hallway im not giving you kisses for 2 whole months”

jade’s body moves instinctively as he shoots up in bed. eyes blinking owlishly as you open the door.

wait, were you actually mad at him? for booting out the competition??

you peek around the hallway bobbing your head to try seeing through the flashbomb of light. after a few minutes you close the door sadly, your head thumps against the wood as you let out a shuddery breath.

jade stand immeditaly andslams open the door.

the shark is gone.

he butes bacl his toothy grin. you’re his again. all his.

…so why were you crying, “it’s a stuffed animal, you have me to cuddle and dote on instead. not some inanimate object incapable of reciprocating affectionate. lets go to bed and look for it in the morning.” jade steady hand finds your shoulder, attempting to guide you back to bed when you flinch out of his touch.

body contorting like you’d just been touched by a a cough. you bend down towards the door to your bad, gather your things and jacket as its colder outside this time of year and sniffle out “im gonna go back to ramshackle… back to grim tonight” you dont look at him when you slip through the door.

…”is my relationship dependent on a stuffed shark?”

yes jade. yes it is.

you ignore jade for an entire week after sharkie goes missiong. floyd sends his deepest condeolences and gives you a free meal at the lounge to ‘soothe your heartache,’ you ignore jade the best you can throughout your meal.

but jade is a D1 problem starter and annoys people for a living.

he pomes you once when you drop your fork and knife, pick up the plate and walk out the lounge. azul is furious that you stole a plate, running after you like he was on the Jerry Springer show.

he comes back after an hour and redirects his anger to jade. “look, what you do in your relationship isn’t any of my business- just give her the blasted shark back”

jade’s had enough of this childishness as it’s starting to bleed into his work life, his social life was drastically altered now that you saw him as the plague- and jade was sick of it.

he’s about to barge into ramshackle when he hears your cried through the rotting oak door. he peaks through the tiny door window to see a mountain of blankets and pillows.

a frown is on his face when he sees you, sobbing your eyes out into a blanket.

“he- he’s so mean” you hiccup “ he won’y cuddle me to sleep so i i brought sharkie right, but then he killed him and destroyed his body” your haggard breathing has you falling back into a pillow as you nuzzle it.

a whine leaves yiu as you throw it across the living room.

“sh sharkie was the only thing i brought with me from home and and he’s gone- im gonna break up with him if he doesn’t find him at the end of the week!”

jade’s blood freezes when he hears voices of approval and comfort. telling you that ‘they didn’t like jade anyways’ and ‘you could do so much better’

.. they’re not wrong… but, he had thought your friends finally came around to your relationship, it appears that was just wishful thinking.

jade himself doesn’t really know why you said yes to him. pausing the moment you said yes to a date to ask if you were sure. that you didn’t mind his cruel reputation and eccentric habits. you embraced them, yet he couldn’t embrace yours…

you had given him space when requested, and sought out an alternative source of affection and comfort because jade withheld it from you. he didn’’t expect you to pull out a damned shark, thinking you’d whine and crawl on him like usual until he’d give in with a sigh and secret smile.

letting you know he’s allowing you to cling like a barnacle to him.. the shark just accepted and soaked up your love like a sponge.

jade turns his heel with a sigh, he needs to fix this. immediately.

it isn’y until three days later, on friday do you text him with a ‘we need to talk.’ it was the only text sent by you in the entire week, jade being moved to ‘silenced’ as another string of barbs around his body.

but not to worry, he called in a favor.

there’s three confident knocks on ramshackle dorm. fanning your heated face you prepare yourself for the breakup.

you open the door-

“hi y/n! i missed you so much!”

you gasp “sharkie!”

you thrust yourself at the slightly discolored shark and trap him in a tight squeezing embrace as you take a long, deep inhale. the scent of laundry detergent and lingering dirt fills your nose as jade watches you visibly relax.

“don’t forget about me” jade’s hiding his face again as he talks in a silly voice. you look up at him ready to chew him out when you close your mouth. in his hand is a long, thick stuffed eel. its eyes closed with a smile itched with black thread. its teal green body had speckles of lighter blues running along it as you excitedly gasp.

jade wraps it around your neck and lands its smiling head on top of yours. your smile falters at his serious face.

“…i didn’t know how much the shark meant to you.. i apologize for the distress i’ve caused you as it wasn’t my intent”

you nod, listening to his apology.

“ i had no idea it was from your home…” your eyes widen, you never told jade that but just chalk up the sudden information leak as jade being jade. you side step him and motion for him to come inside.

he declines, “i have a shift at monstro in 10 minutes so i must be on my way.” he’s about to bend down for a kiss when he stops himself with a hand politely covering his mouth.

“dear me, almost forgot i have another 7 weeks to go with no kisses” he deflates “ill be on my way then”

just as expected you grab for his collar and yank him to your height. smashing your lips onto his jade hands reflexively goes to your cheeks, smushing them slightly as he deepens the kiss.

“next time” jade pulls away, wiping your lip of salvia, then swiping his on lip his the covered thumb. “don’t bring ‘sharkie,’ as eels are very territorial of their mates.”

[moonsonder]

TRUE ROMANCE 夏油 傑, GETŌ SUGURU

synopsis: five years has passed since getō suguru, your best friend since junior high, left to pursue his career in music in los angeles after being signed to a record label. as time went, what remained of your fading friendship slipped away—but your feelings for him never did. with suguru returning home to perform a homecoming concert, you’ve held onto your ticket, uncertain what everything will mean once you see him again.

warnings: normal au. no jujutsu. angst/emotional angst. implied unrequited love. feelings of self-doubt and anxiety. feelings of loneliness and isolation. getting a tattoo as a coping mechanism. musician!suguru (plays piano, keyboard, guitar). famous singer!suguru. suguru has tan skin and piercings (earlobes, nostril, and snakebites). reference/mention of underage drinking. reference to smoking (shoko). proofread-ish (apologies for any mistakes or inconsistencies). inaccurate concert experience (never been to one, so i wrote what i thought would be correct).

word count: 3.6k

author’s note: hey, so, i formerly wrote jjk fics for a few characters on a previous, now sideblog, main blog known as @/solarenchanting (went by the pen name sunnie; not so different to sonny lmao). long story short, i found myself favouring to write for suguru more than anyone else. so, this is me, in the middle of starting over, with writing for my favourite jjk character <3 (also, i do not condone underage drinking and suguru has tan skin because i say so).

now playing: true romance by pinkpantheress.

mp.3: ❝i got a tattoo just to show how much i care, but there’s so many girls around you that i’m scared.❞

“SO, ARE YOU EXCITED FOR TONIGHT?”

shoko had asked, her raspy voice drawing your attention from the café’s window and back to her, with a ghost of a smile tugged on her lips and an arch of an eyebrow. she was sitting across from you with an elbow propped onto the edge of the square table. her other hand held the handle of her teaspoon, with motioned practice, and stirred her coffee in the mug as the steam swirled. the morning sun casting a glint over her features.

“y—yeah, i am!” you shifted in your seat, the chair screeching against the floor. your leg bounced, vibrating up and down underneath the table. your right hand wrapped the ceramic teacup, fingers right below the rim, and the palm of your left hand supporting the base. “also, i heard that satoru wasn’t going.”

“not surprised,” shoko said, shrugging her shoulders. she removed the teaspoon from her mug and tapped it against the rim to let a drop of coffee drip back into the mug. placing it on the saucer, she lifted her mug to take a sip. “but, you know that wasn’t what i meant, right?”

“i know,” you muttered in defeat. with your hands cradling the teacup, you set it down onto its saucer. turning your head as you glanced around the café.

it hummed with a quiet energy today. the warm glow of the sun spilling through from the windows and the scent of freshly brewed coffees and teas mingled with the faint sweetness of the pastries in the display case. a soft tune played through the speakers, seamlessly blending in with the clinking of porcelain and ceramic cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.

there were only a few customers in at the moment. they were either absent mindlessly scrolling through their phones or reading the newspaper or a magazine while they lingered by the wooden tables. the air carried out the occasional murmur of conversation or the scrape of the chair against the floor.

outside, the streets of shibuya were waking up and coming to life. people walking on the sidewalk, the engine of cars purring as they drove past. it was a stark contrast to the atmosphere to the highly anticipated night you were going to experience. the thought of caused your heart to race widely as you gulped, beginning to feel a tad bit uneasy.

your focus shifted back onto your cup of tea, refusing to meet shoko’s gaze. after a second, you glanced up at her with a weak smile, fixing your posture to sit up straight.

“i guess i’m kinda nervous,” you admitted sheepishly.

“as expected, frankly.” she murmured, not at all surprised.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you pulled back, creating distance between yourself and the smoothened edge of the table. your back almost hitting against the wooden surface of the backrest. your eyebrows furrowed, the skin above the hairs bunching up to form faint lines, and your lips twisted in a slight frown.

“really?” shoko deadpanned, sarcasm laced in her tone. she stared blankly at you. her eyes narrowed, the grey eyebags — a feature that came from being enrolled in med school, sheʼd always jest — scrunching up. “need i remind you that you stupidly got a tattoo instead of just confessing your feelings to suguru? why wouldn’t i expect you to be nervous?”

“hey!” you exclaimed, offended.

your arms came back to your side, abandoning your teacup, as they found refuge underneath the table. you pulled onto the cotton material of your sweater, tugging it down further, gliding it down to stretch it over your palm. your fingers curled into a fist with your nails digging through the cuff to keep it in place, hiding where the indelible design was punctured into the skin of your inner wrist.

“it’s not stupid!” you retorted, your voice raising a little bit, just loud enough for you to realise. you cleared your throat, glancing around to see if anyone heard.

“i never said the tattoo was stupid,” shoko clarified. she gazed down to where your arms were hiding, specifically the arm that had the tattoo, and gestured with her coffee mug in hand. “i said getting the tattoo was stupid.”

“semantics,” you huffed, leaning back in your chair and readjusted your legs into a figure four. you crossed your arms over your chest, burying your hand deeper into the crook of your elbow.

“uh huh, keep telling yourself that.” shoko tilted her head back, drowning down the last of her coffee and dropping the mug back down. she let out a relieved sigh, using a napkin to wipe away any sticky residue around her mouth. “if i may ask, why did you do it?”

you froze, your arms dropping lower against your chest. “because… i just wanted something to remind me of him, of us—” you paused, considering you words carefully as you shuffled. “of… our friendship—to commemorate it.”

you turned your head away, facing the window nearby to watch passers-by before hearing whatever shoko had to say. being under her scrutiny was the last thing you wanted. it’s bad enough that you’re in your own head about it—about everything when it comes to suguru. maybe even worse knowing that you’ll be seeing him tonight.

to your surprise, the silence broke at the sound of shoko’s laugh filling the space between you and her. you whipped your head, maybe even experiencing a second of whiplash, not even bothering to mask the disbelief on your face.

“friendship, huh? it that what you’re still calling it?” she asked, shaking her head. she run a hand through her hair, pushing it back before it fell into the exact same place, framing her face. “i don’t understand…”

you bit back at your bottom lip, mulling her words over. a hint of frustration in your tone. “it’s not for you to understand, shoko.”

“i see…” she mused, leaning back in her seat and mirroring your pose. her thoughtful stare made you tense, expecting more prodding from her. “oh, well, i’m heading out.”

shoko pushed her seat back and got up, your head tilted. she smirked, pulling out a fresh pack of the familiar, classic white and red box of marlboro cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of her pants.

you nodded absent mindlessly, not even registering that she was going to have a smoke break. you didn’t even watch her leave the café as you stared blankly ahead at the table, still hurt over the fact that she laughed over the reasoning of your tattoo. on top of that, she even had the audacity to question it.

you barely heard the sound of the soft thuds of her footsteps or the café doors opening and closing, leaving you to sit there alone with your thoughts. immediately, almost mechanically, you unfolded your arms and uncrossed your legs. leaning forward, you slid the forgotten teacup to the side. placing it right near the edge of the table where shoko’s coffee mug was.

it was half-full and the tea was probably cold—not that you knew, but you weren’t going to risk worsening your mood with a sip. still, as your fingers rested around the rim, you hesitated. on second thought, you slide the teacup back to its original place in front of you.

as if you were reeled back into reality, you scoffed with a shake of your head. “god, what’s the matter with me? you’d think i would’ve learned by now…”

you groaned inaudibly and hunched over, deflated. propping your arm on the table, you rested your cheek in the palm of your hand — a grave mistake, considering your eyes automatically peered down and gazed to where the tattoo was — while your other arm rested flat, your fingertips tapping against the table.

if you had five yen for every time you’ve been in this position — ending up doing something stupid and utterly foolish, as shoko would say, instead of facing and owning up to your… feelings — you would’ve been rich enough to relocate and change your name right after you graduated high school.

but how could you?

this was suguru you were talking about!

suguru, who you meet when you were fourteen-years-old. he lived in the same neighborhood as you, his family home was a walking-distance from yours—and you met his parents. you’d walk home with him after school and club activities wrapped up, stopping by a vending machine or convenience store for snacks.

now, he was getō suguru, the famous and talented musician who composed his own songs and even had credits for a bunch of other artists. five years into his career, and he already won many title-worthy awards.

not like you were surprised, after all, who was the one who lingered too long by the door of the music club’s after hearing him singing a melody while playing the piano? albeit, you never said it out loud.

you’d guess that was because it was once something sacred. whether it was listening to him sing his own songs while strumming his guitar or keyboard whenever you hung out in his bedroom, or laying on your bed in a comfortable silence when you shared your earphones with him and listened to music together. even the times when he’d quietly ramble about his favourite songs and artist, while you found yourself staring at him as if he hung the stars and the moon.

you never thought that one day you’ll never be able to hear from him anymore. the time zones used to be your excuse whenever he couldn’t reach out in the first few months. after that, you reasoned that maybe he was at the studio or at a concert rehearsal. maybe shooting a music video? photoshoot? currently doing an interview?

but then you’d see him plastered all over billboards in the city. you’d hear his songs play on the radio, see his music videos play on the tv whenever you tried looking for something to watch. you’d see magazines on display with him on the front cover. you’d overhear conversations with his name, showering him praises—just like you used to do.

and yet, here you are, five years later and sitting in a café and reminiscing. enrolled for postgrad and having worked extra shifts at your part-time job just to have earned enough money to purchase a vip ticket to his concert for months just to see him. with a tattoo dedicated to him that you didn’t even have the heart to tell him about for some reason—as if he wasn’t your best friend.

yeah, the same best friend who you shared your first kiss with at seventeen-year-olds when you were in third-year of high school on a hot, summer’s night in august 2007. both of you were drunk, face flushed from cheap liquor with heavy-lidded eyes.

you and him found a brief moment of respite in satoru’s bedroom where satoru threw another infamous party in his family’s home while his parents were absent. you couldn’t even remember how one moment led to either of you washing away the line of your friendship drawn onto the sand.

however, you did remember the countless times you hesitated to bring up the topic or avoided it days later. either making up excuses, beating around the bush to say something completely unrelated, or walking in different directions to avoid talking to him at school—not once ever bringing it up directly and instead tried to move on from it like he did, seeing how completely unbothered he appeared to be about it.

cringing, you buried your face in your hand, lips twisting in a frown. fuck, not even satoru—judging from how he has been lately—seemed to be this affected by suguru’s absence. especially since they had a falling out right before suguru left for los angeles after signing the contract to a record label and haven't spoken to each other since.

if anything, you expected him to probably understand where you were coming from since he and suguru were each other’s best friends too; ever since high school. but maybe satoru was better at hiding his emotions than you were. because it clearly seemed that you wore your heart on your sleeve—more like, the tattoo on your wrist.

you rolled your eyes and snapped yourself out of your reverie, shaking your head as means to wake you up from continuing to walk down memory lane. you sat upright, your eyes fluttering close for a second; inhaling through your nose and exhaling out your mouth. you didn’t need to be doing this. besides, what’s happened has happened, and you need to leave it in the past—yet the bittersweet memories linger like an aftertaste, and no amount of water could wash it out.

opening your eyes, you reached for your phone in the back pocket of your pants. unlocking it, you were immediately met with a message from shoko. wincing, you hoped it was nothing urgent or important since you kept your phone on silent. tapping on the screen, it opened the message.

ieiri shoko: meet me outside once you’re done just read

you let out a breath of relief, smiling softly. sliding your—still half-full—teacup next to shoko’s empty coffee mug, you stood up from the chair and pushed it in gently. adjusting your sweater and smoothening your pants, you casted one last glance at the window to see your faint reflection. satisfied, you made your way to the front door, smiling and bowing your head in respect to the workers present.

once outside, the fresh air filled in and you were met with the sight of shoko leaning against a streetlight pole while applying a coat of clear lip gloss on her lower lip, rubbing her lips together for a few seconds as she screwed the lip gloss shut. shoko turned to you with a half-smile, tucking the tube into her pocket, and strided towards you as you both began walking down the sidewalk amongst the growing crowd of people.

“still excited?” she asked, turning her head to look at you.

“yeah, can’t wait to see him again,” you replied, forcing a smile, unsure if you meant it.

there was only one time in your life that you could vividly remember being this anxious. that being in mid-spring 2004, when your family moved and you were transferred to a new junior high school. it was embarrassing, sticking out like a sore thumb. everybody was already in their cliques and aligned with the syllabus by the time you stood in front of the class and introduced yourself.

your heart pounded against your ribcage, threatening to burst out. everybody probably saw how your legs were shaking, knees buckling and ready to give out. it didn’t help that the tremble in your voice decided to come through, undoing all your efforts to appear confident to your new peers.

if only the classroom floor would’ve swallowed you whole then, you wouldn’t have had to experience everything else that followed—just like you wanted the floor beneath you to do right now ever since the show started and suguru appeared on stage.

you’d say that life enjoyed making cruel jokes, having you be in the same position from years ago, but the joke was on you this time around. you’re the one who bought the ticket furthest away from the stage—not that it helped, you were still able to see his performance on the enormous projected screen behind him for the fans even further away to enjoy the show.

seeing him now on the screen, you could tell; gone was the cute, class president—who your homeroom teacher delegated the task of getting you acquainted with the school—with sun-kissed tan skin, and his thin, violet eyes that seemed to smile in unison whenever his lips tugged into one as well.

with short black hair neatly combed with bangs over his forehead that never had a single strand out of place. who wore his full school uniform down to the pressed blazer—it was no surprise that he was perfect in every single way even back then, almost as if he was destined for it.

on stage, suguru was seated on a chair, dressed in an all black outfit with his right leg crossed over his left and his guitar perched on his lap as he strummed and sang an acoustic version of one of his recent popular songs, with a plush white towel wrapped around from the back of his neck.

his hair was styled partially in a man bun while the rest cascaded down his back. he still had his signature bang, from his high school years, covering his left eye. He was thoroughly pierced too, having fairly large black circular earrings in each ear lobe, with a silver eyebrow piercing on his right, a nostril piercing on his left, and snakebites.

the lights shining down on him from the stage illuminated the glint of sweat on his face and neck. his eyes glanced around the arena, taking in the sight of his fans that swayed and sang along to the melody with their arms in the air and their phone’s flash on, while others had posters and banners in his name.

and the hopeless, unrealistic part of you wondered if he could see you in the crowd.

if he could see your hand.

this was a mistake. you should have never come here. what were you thinking? you probably weren’t, is the answer shoko would’ve said if she was here with you. she’d probably watch you, bored and amused, panic and fidget with the vip wristband as you stood in the queue with other fans.

despite you never admitting it out loud, she’d be right.

she was right about everything she’s ever pointed out about you, and you hated that you were agreeing with her.

you have been ever since you stormed over to her place the day after that drunken kiss happened and ignored her advice to simply just tell him that it meant something—he meant something; that he was more than a friend to you.

naively, you thought that the worst had already happened. but, that was only the beginning of convincing yourself that your relationship was explicitly platonic.

even when you embraced him tighter, refusing to let him go as you bunched up the material of his hoodie, and felt the vibrations of his chest against you as he chuckled dryly and made a teasing remark about you.

reluctantly, you let him go, and watched longer than you should’ve when he walked away to the terminal gate of his flight until he disappeared into the throng of passengers boarding too—it was still platonic, is what you told yourself.

maybe that’s when you should’ve said something; told him how much you loved him. that the kiss, and every moment leading up to it, held value because it was with him. and you wanted to do that again and more; to experience something real and intentional with him.

you could’ve freed yourself.

and deep down, you knew that’s why you wore yourself out at your part-time job, picking up extra shifts whenever you could.

because a broken clock is right twice a day, isn’t it?

could you really do it this time? it wasn’t as if you could ask to have a private moment with him. he’s surrounded by the backstage staff, his manager, security and fans. forget wondering if he still viewed you as a friend or potentially return your feelings, would he even recognise you?

you shook your head vehemently, starting to do a breathing exercise to ground yourself to be in the present. you were over exaggerating. while much can happen in five years, hopefully that much didn’t occur for you to slip out of his mind.

right?

“next!”

the security guard called out, snapping you out of your thoughts, your eyes widened dramatically, turning your head with lightning speed. you realised that you were near the door, only three people away from him.

from your vantage point, you watched suguru hug the fan whose. as they parted, he smiled at them and listened attentively as the fan spoke, pouring their heart out to him, as suguru signed something for them while nodding along. flashes of light were going off throughout the interaction, capturing every moment.

for a split second, you were transported back to the hallway of your junior high school. where mr. class president, suguru, patiently showed you the directions of your classroom, giving his own commentary on what he thought about the teachers of each respective subject.

he checked-in on you throughout the interaction, if you were comfortable or needed anything, and made small talk. soon enough, you had begun adding to the conversation. and you left school that day feeling grateful that you possibly had suguru in your corner.

unshed, hot tears brimmed in your eyes, a hurting pang filled your chest. you swallowed the lump in your throat, one that you didn’t even realise had been forming. with a shaky breath, you blinked the tears away, eyes darting everywhere before finally landing on suguru as he hugged the fan one last time.

a wobbly smile etched upon your face as you watched the next person enter, receiving the same treatment. there was no doubt in your mind that you were happy for him, proud of him for pursuing his dreams.

that’s why you couldn’t do it. thus, like a fool, you stepped out of the queue and walked off to the exit door, grasping onto your wrist with the dedicated tattoo, before you could second guess yourself more and have tears streaming down your face.

if only you could’ve turned your head over your shoulder for one last time. you would’ve seen the way suguru’s face morphed into concern, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned into a frown.

the way he froze after taking one step forward with his hand stretched out in mid-air, as if he was going to grasp onto something—to you, perhaps—before composing himself to resume engaging with his fans; eye’s glancing towards the exit, wondering if you’d come back.

[revelboo]

May we have some Swindle love please?

Sure! 18+ 🌶️

Hangman Pt 3

Swindle x Reader

• “Wait, wait. I’ve got to set the mood,” he grumbles, carefully arranging pillows and plush furs into a decadent little nest for you. Had heard your little feet padding over to him after you changed, but he doesn’t bother to look. Too busy draping layers of sheer material in muted peach and pink colors as a backdrop. He’d already mass shifted to get closer to your level and to be able to handle the fidgety, alien equipment. Trying to set the stage, because while you’re the star, the mood has to be right. Exotic and soft. Oh, yeah. His patrons are going to eat this up. A live human. “Alright,” he murmurs, straightening and turning toward his recording equipment and stopping short. Your face red and hands awkwardly trying to cover yourself. “Oh, Primus you’re perfect.” Servos brushing your arm, he guides you to the stage he’s set up. “Let’s roll with that innocence, that uncertainty. Play the ingenue.”

• Embarrassed, you let his warm servos help you ease down among the furs and pillows. Not able to admit that it’s not an act, this is way out of your wheelhouse. Painfully aware of him as he adjusts your pose, and nudges your thighs together so you’re reclining. Knees together and heels drawn up against your body to somewhat hide you. ‘They’re going to love you,’ he says and you offer him a shy smile as he strides to the recording equipment. ‘That’s perfect. We’re rolling, babe.’ “Hi,” you whisper, smiling uncertainly at the camera and Swindle frowns. ‘No, smile like you just were.’

• And you stop staring at the camera to look at him, that shy smile back as he slowly nods his encouragement. “That’s right,” he growls. “You’re what they’re all waiting for. Wanting. Show them what they need and can’t have. Make them adore you, babe.” Watches you reach up to brush your hair back behind your ear, your fingertips sliding down the line of your throat. Hand lifting as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, uncertain and shy. Then your hand slides over a thigh. “Show them.” And you part your thighs, palms sliding along your inner thighs. Those eyes drifting away from his optics, dropping shyly as your fingers slide against yourself.

• Ignore the camera. Easier said than done, but with Swindle crooning soft encouragement, it’s a little less awkward. Fingers dipping into yourself, stroking until you’re slick. “Let’s them hear you, babe,” he growls. “If it feels good, makes some noise for me.” He’s awful. His visor bright as he watches pump two fingers into yourself. Encouraging you to be as awful, as wanton as you want to be. Tipping your head back among the pillows, you give in. Breath hitching, whimpering and sighing as you lazily play with yourself.

• Primus, those soft noises. In the vids, those humans are loud, urgent and theatrical, but your little sounds are almost lost to the wet sound of your fingers pumping inside yourself. “You’re so precious,” he whispers, knowing he’s going to have to edit out his voice, but he can’t help it. Can’t stop encouraging you. Because this is wholly different than those other videos. This is intimate. Shifting slightly behind the recording equipment as your hips rock slightly and you still for a moment with a shudder before slowly starting again. Realizing that while those other videos never did slag for him, watching you does, his spike aching where it’s trapped. “Show me how wet you are, babe,” he groans, knowing he’s going to have to take care of himself later in private. Watching you pull your fingers free, a thigh sliding to give him an even better view of you. Primus. “You want one of your toys?”

Previous

[devixncy]

Hey! I’ve got a heavy hurt/comfort request here that is pretty angsty, so if it’s too much please just ignore this.

Anyway if you’re comfortable could I request a Thanos x reader (no games AU) where is read of the recruiter finding him in the bridge, the reader does? Maybe they were good friends before his career fell apart.

I just wanted to hug him so bad when he was telling his backstory to Minsu 😭 and I can in fic form

a/n: i wrote this one so fast. ty for this request (hopefully i did it justice)

✧ pairing: choi su-bong (thanos) x reader

✧ summary: you come face to face with your best friend on the bridge instead of the recruiter

✧ content: heavy themes (suicidal ideation, thanos at the bridge as mentioned in squid game), angst, no games AU, swearing, some comfort at the end bc that's how i roll

✧ word count: 2.3k

‘Your call has been forwarded to voicemail. The person you’re trying to reach is not available. At the tone, please record your mess-’

Your thumb hit the end call button, letting out a sigh of frustration. You weren’t sure why you kept trying, maybe it was because you always held out hope and your heart didn’t want to give up. At this point, your name had probably flashed across what used to be your best friend's screen hundreds of times–only to never receive a response. 

Su-bong’s radio silence worried you to no end. The two of you had been inseparable once, from pre-teens all the way into early adulthood. He was your best friend, your partner in crime. You helped each other through heartbreak, you consoled him when no one else understood what he was going through at home. You had shared countless late night talks, discussing quite literally anything you could think of because there were no secrets between you. Unfortunately, you hadn’t realized how much of a crush you had developed on him until it was too late.

When he began his rapping career, you were nothing but supportive. He was following his dream, wanting to make a name for himself under the alias ‘Thanos’. You always reposted his music on social media to help promote it, and always went to his shows once he began performing at small venues and clubs. As always, rising to fame didn’t come without consequences. It started with small, miniscule things that you brushed off as nothing at first. He started to take longer to answer your texts; what used to take seconds would now take him almost a full day until he was basically ghosting you. He began to “forget” to tell you when his shows were scheduled, disappointing you to no end because you wanted to be there for him.

Then, there was the night he showed up at your apartment, stumbling and pupils blown so wide you almost couldn’t see the blue of his eyes anymore. He was high out of his mind, coming to your door to beg for money so that he could pay back some of whatever debt he had accumulated. Your heart broke when you had to kick him out without sparing anything, as you had very little money to spare yourself. He was erratic and loud, and you couldn’t have him in your apartment that late in the state he was in. You had cried that night, seeing what was happening to your best friend.

After that night, you hadn’t heard from Su-bong again. Your desperate attempts to contact him were futile, you never received a response. It left you angry and defeated, wondering what you had done wrong. You missed him dearly, and it had been almost a full year since you’d spoken. 

A pebble went scattering across the concrete as you kicked it, lost in thought while you walked. It was getting late, the sun disappearing behind the horizon as the stars began to brighten the dark sky. You shoved your hands in your pockets, a shiver running down your spine as the cold air nipped at you. You wandered aimlessly, having no real destination–yet it was another reminder of Su-bong. Walks to clear your minds was something you both did together often, and now it was just you. He used to boast about how he would protect you and that no one would bother you if you were with him, not that anybody ever did. 

Something wet landing on the tip of your nose broke you out of your thoughts yet again, causing you to tilt your head up and look into the sky. The light patter of rain began to hit your face, starting as a sprinkle and gradually turning into a steady rainfall. Great. You grumbled, knowing you still had a while to walk and no umbrella. Pulling up your hood, your feet carried you in the direction of your apartment. Eventually, you began to approach the bridge that you had crossed not too long ago, signaling you weren’t very far now. A sigh of relief began to escape your lips, no longer wanting to be out in this weather as you were already soaked. However, whatever air you had in your lungs was immediately sucked out, leaving you frozen in shock. A figure was standing eerily still by the rails of the side of the bridge, their grip on the steel bar tight. 

You had no idea what to do in this situation. Your heart sped up, thumping against your rib cage. Your eyes diverted from the figure to the unforgiving river below, the dark water angry as rain beat down against it. Its currents roared, jagged rocks lurking beneath the churning surface. Your stomach twisted, hoping this wasn’t what you thought it was. Taking a deep breath, you began to move slowly and silently. You knew the person couldn’t hear you and you hoped they wouldn’t see you from their peripheral vision even though they had their hood up. Creeping closer, you almost had a heart attack as they suddenly hopped up onto the rail, swinging their legs around so that they were sitting facing the water. Moving quicker now, you were merely feet away.

Deep breaths. You had to act quickly. The glow of the city in the distance seemed dampened by the rain, and time seemingly slowed down. You took another slow step forward, not too fast or eager. The figure’s hands clenched tightly against the railing, knuckles turning white. Their breath came in shuddering bursts, visible in the coldness of the night. 

“You don’t want this.” Your gentle voice carried through the wind. 

They flinched at the sound of your voice, but didn’t turn around. 

“I know it feels like there’s nothing left. I know it feels hopeless, like the weight of the world is crushing you,” you continued. “But I promise this is not the way. Not like this. There is someone out there who cares about you, who would be devastated if you made this choice.”

They shivered. Whether it was from your words or from the chill in the air, you weren’t sure. You took another small step forward.

“Please,” you whispered. “You’re not alone. Please come down and let me help you.” 

For a moment, time paused. The silence was loud, and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears. 

And then–slowly, cautiously–they turned.

And you felt as if somebody had punched you in the gut, all of the air sucked out of your lungs in an instant. The weight of a million tons felt as if it were crushing your body. The world blurred at its edges, sounds turning distant as if everything was underwater.

Su-bong, your Su-bong, was staring back at you. His cheeks were tear-streaked, noticeable even in the pouring rain. His eyes were distant, hollow–though you could clearly see the blue in his irises, meaning he wasn’t high at the moment. He showed no emotion in his face, something you weren’t used to seeing. 

“Su-bong…” You whispered, and it came out strangled, like somebody was squeezing your lungs. You stood there with your arm slightly outstretched, lips parted in shock. He stared back at you, unmoving, no words coming out of his mouth. The tremors began, your fingers shaking uncontrollably as the weight of the truth settled in like ice. Your best friend, the person you loved the most, was about to kill himself. 

“You shouldn’t be here, (Y/N).” His voice was strained, raw, like he had been screaming. It was devoid of emotion, but his eyes told a different story. There was conflict flickering in them, maybe uncertainty, you couldn’t tell. 

Your knees nearly gave out as he turned back around, seemingly having his mind made up whether you were there or not. Panic set in, adrenaline coursing through your veins like fire as you lurched forward, although stopping yourself before you made a dumb decision.

“Su-bong, please! Please don’t do this, don’t you dare,” You cried, your breaths coming in short gasps as desperation clawed at you. Logic went out the window, your mouth was moving faster than your brain. “I love you, please don’t do this. I need you here.” 

He didn’t say anything. But mere seconds later, his shoulders began to shake violently. You began to hear sobs escape from the man in front of you, tearing your heart into a million pieces. And after a long, excruciating moment that seemed to stretch on forever, he slowly turned back around. Your hand, although violently trembling, was outstretched towards him. “Please come down.” You tried once more, barely audible over the unrelenting rain. Your eyes betrayed you, his outline blurring as they were swimming with tears that wouldn’t stop coming. 

But you felt his touch, his hand hesitantly grabbing yours. Slowly, but surely he swung his legs back around until he was facing you instead of the water below. As soon as he was facing you, you yanked him towards you with all of the strength you had left. His body collided with yours, and like something awakened in him, he threw his arms around you. His grip was tight, crushing–but you paid no mind, your arms finding their way around his back and clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie so tight he might fly away if you let go. He sobbed, his head dropping onto your shoulder. His knees buckled and you followed suit, lowering the two of you onto the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), god I’m so fucking sorry,” He cried. You didn’t respond, you couldn’t find words. Your chest was heaving, emotions all over the place. You just rocked him gently, quiet hiccups coming out of your mouth as you tried to grapple with reality. “I thought your life, and everyone else's, would be better off without me in it. I’m so sorry, I-I wasn’t thinking, I’m just such a fuck up-”

You cut him off, leaning back so that you could grab his face. “Do NOT say that to me, ever! You are one of the most important pieces of my life, you always have been and that has never changed. My life got better the day you came into it. Even if you feel like you have nothing else, you have me. You always have,” You took a deep breath as he rested his forehead against yours, shame written all over his face. “I love you so much, whether you know it or not. But the point is, I will always be here for you. Through the good and the bad.” 

Su-bong closed his eyes, tears still running down his face. The rain chilled the both of you to the bone, soaking through every inch of your clothing. You wiped his tears, holding him close. 

“I want to get out of here. Please, let’s go anywhere but here.” He finally whispered. You nodded, not saying a word as you slowly helped him to his feet. You kept an arm wrapped around his waist, helping him keep upright as you walked as he was unsteady on his feet. He was exhausted–emotionally, physically, and mentally. 

No words were exchanged as you brought him into your apartment. You led him into your small bathroom, sitting him on the edge of your bathtub. Grabbing multiple towels, you stood in front of him between his legs. His trembling hands didn’t go unnoticed by you, your chest aching as you looked at him. He looked distant, but was watching you. You offered him a small smile, one that was filled with warmth and familiarity. With gentle hands, you began to towel dry his soaking wet hair, bringing back some of the vibrant purple as it no longer stuck to his forehead. You had him strip out of his wet clothes, bringing him some spare of his that had been left at your apartment from long ago. Making sure he was dry and comfortable was your number one priority at the moment. 

“You’re still soaking wet.” He murmured as you were hanging the towels up to dry, making you pause. You turned, frowning as that was the first thing he’d said in a while. 

“No, you’re not worrying about me right now.” You said sternly, dropping your hands to your sides. He grabbed one of your hands, pulling you towards him. You stopped in between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into your stomach. Your hand instinctively came up to his hair, running through it like you had done many times before. After a couple of moments, he lifted his head, chin now resting on your stomach as he looked up at you. 

“Thank you,” He said softly, vulnerability shining in his eyes. “For everything. I owe you my life. I promise that I’m going to get help. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” He whispered as you cupped his cheek. 

“I’ll be with you every step of the way, my love. Anything you need, I’m here. You’ll always have a home here.” You replied sincerely, your heart hurting for the man in front of you. 

“I know. I don’t know why I didn’t come home sooner.” He whispered, and the back of your eyes stung.

You went to bed that night with hope for the future, holding Su-bong close and him holding onto you all night like a lifeline. You didn’t know what exactly he had gone through in the time you were apart, but none of that mattered now. All you wanted was to protect him from his demons, and you so badly hoped that he would let you in. It would take time, but there was nothing more you wanted than to help him heal. 

[maverices]

post-TG AU, in which Mav gets re-assigned to another squadron after his own is dissolved, and is greeted by a familiar face. set a couple of years after the movie. (wordcount: ~1k)

---

„Commander Kazansky, I believe you know Lieutenant Commander Mitchell? He’s been assigned to fill the spot in your squadron.“

Wait, what?

„Yes, thank you, Captain.“ If Iceman is surprised to see him, he doesn’t let it show on his face. Maverick isn’t too sure what his own is doing, in part because he has no idea what he’s feeling.

„Maverick.“

He controls his face, takes the offered hand and squeezes it, briefly.

„Iceman.“

The captain glances between them, looking for god-knows-what, and then nods. „I’ll leave you to it.“

They both stand to attention until he’s left the room.

„So,“ Mav drawls, turning to face Ice, „who am I replacing?“

„Me.“

„What?“

„Our CO was injured and had to take an extended medical leave. The position has been filled, but we’re still a pilot short.“

„And by the position being filled you mean…“

„I am the commanding officer of the VFA-25.“

„So you’re like, a Commander-commander now.“ Ice’s blank expression is definitely straining now, and Maverick really needs to move on from this.

„Is this going to be a problem? I can ask for you to be re-assigned, if that’s what you want.“

„And leave me with yet another mark on my record? No, thank you.“

„There are ways to do this that wouldn’t reflect badly on either of us.“

„I’ll manage. Sir.“

Ice doesn’t bare his teeth at him the way he used to, but Mav is still intimately familiar with the way frustration looks on his face.

„Look, Mav. I didn’t request for you to be here, but I am glad that you are. I would love to fly with you again, and that’s why I need to know that we’re on the same page here.“

„And what page would that be?“

„You are my friend, Mav, and my wingman. I trust you, with my life.“ He draws a deep breath, clenching his fist around the backrest of his chair, a concession to his emotions Mav has never seen him make. (Only heard, guessed at, in an empty locker room back at Miramar.) „But as of today, you are also my direct subordinate. I need you to separate Ice, your friend, from Commander Kazansky, your CO.“

„You give this speech to everyone in your squadron?“

„No?“

„So you trust them to keep things professional, but not me? Jesus Christ, Ice, I’ve been in the Navy as long as you. I clawed my way up from the Reserve to become one of the best aviators the Navy has, and I can guarantee you, while my sheer talent and my irrestible charm has opened me a lot of doors, they would have closed just as quickly if I didn’t learn the importance of keeping my mouth shut, occasionally. I know how this works.“

Under any other circumstances, Mav would tease the hell out of Ice for his stunned expression. In contrast to his usual aloof arrogance, he’s doing the Iceman-equivalent of staring at Mav with his jaw on the floor.

Ice rubs a hand over his face, and sinks into his chair.

„I know,“ he mumbles. „I know that. I didn’t mean to come at you like this, it’s just-- it’s not you, it’s me.“

Ice grimaces the second he says it, and Mav starts laughing despite the tension in the air.

„Real original, Kazansky. Got any more where that came from, or are you going to tell me what’s really going on here?“

Ice hesitates, so Mav adds with a conspiratioral smirk, „Y’know, just as a friend telling a friend his troubles.“

„Did you know I’m the second-youngest officer in the squadron? Third-youngest, now that you’re here. I’ve only served as XO for three months. Commander Rowles was training me up to replace him, eventually, but that was not going to be for another few years.“

„You think you’re not qualified for the job?“

„What? No, of course I’m qualified.“

Mav can’t help the snort that escapes him, and immediately shrinks under Ice’s glare.

„You disgreeing, Mitchell?“

„No, no, not at all, it’s just-- I forgot how fucking arrogant you can be.“

„It’s not arrogance if--

„If you’ve got the skill to back it up, yes, I’m aware, it’s basically my life motto. So if you’re qualified, and you presumably want the job, what’s got your panties in a twist? Not to inflate your ego even more than it already is, but you’re a natural leader. Most of our class fell in line behind you after day one, and let me tell you, that’s not how it usually works.“

At least that’s what Viper told him when after the first week of training the class had been clearly split into three groups who were constantly antagonizing each other. Apparently, theirs was the only group in years that hadn’t needed any more than the initial speech about teamwork to cooperate in any combination. Well, almost any combination.

„Except for you.“

„Except for me, but I respected you, even if your by-the-book flying annoyed the hell out of me. Honestly never thought it possible to be as good as you are without stretching the rules a little.“

„And yet, orthodox flying wouldn’t have gotten me or anyone else out of a confrontation with five MiGs alive.“

Mav blinks, once. „Careful, Kazansky, that almost sounded like a concession to my superior skills.“

„Imagination has always been your greatest strength.“

Tone, lock, hit. Mav cracks up, bending over from the force of his laughter, before collapsing into the visitor’s chair. Ice’s face is doing something strange, caught half-way between amusement and something far, far softer that Maverick carefully catalogues, but doesn’t point out.

„You’re still dodging my question. You’re qualified, you’re a good leader, if a little young. So what?“

Ice sighs. „I need them to respect me. Not just as a fellow aviator, but as their CO.“

Mav frowns. „Do they not? I’m sure your CO wouldn’t have picked you as a XO if they didn’t.“

„They do.“

„So, what? Come on, Ice, just spit it out.“

„How can I demand respect and subordination from aviators older and more experienced than me, if I can’t earn it from my peers and juniors?“

„Oh.“

„Yes.“

„To be entirely clear, am I your peer or your junior in this scenario?“

„Maverick.“

„Because depending on the answer I might take you up on that re-assignment offer.“

„Mav.“

„I’m kidding. What do you need from me?“

„I need you to pay me the same respect you would any other commanding officer.“

„Done. Although I’d like to point out that I’m not exactly known for my polite and respectful conduct.“

Ice pinches the bridge of his nose. Mav is getting more expressions out of him in this conversation than he’d seen in the weeks they spent getting on each other’s nerves at Miramar.

„I’m aware. That’s why we’re having this conversation in the first place. Just-- I don’t know, reign it in a little? At least for the first few weeks, especially around the rookie. I don’t want him to get any wrong impressions about me.“

„What, that you’re not just ‚ice-cold, no mistakes‘?“

„Ideally, yes.“

„Why?“ Mav wishes he could take the question back the second it’s out of his mouth. He’ll need to work on his impulse control, if he doesn’t want Ice to kick him off the squad within 48 hours.

Ice looks just as taken aback, so Mav starts back-pedalling.

„Nevermind. Forget I asked.“ There could be any number of reasons for Ice being the way he is, and none of them are Mav’s business.

He rises out of his chair and salutes. „Commander.“

Thankfully, Ice gets the message, and stands up.

„My XO is expecting you in the mess hall. He will show you around, introduce you to the squad, and answer any additional questions. Report in for the briefing on your first hop at 0700 tomorrow.“

„Yes, sir.“

„I look forward to flying with you, Commander. Dismissed.“

[starsinmylatte]

I saw your dilf Veritas post and listen I had to hop in cause I am so damn hungry for this man istg

Anyway, I don't think I've seen anything in regards to the moment when Veritas loses his cool for maybe even the first time in his life. And that's the birth of his child. He has knowledge on birth and all about it but with that comes the knowledge about all that could go wrong and bro is stressing 🥲 he wants his beloved partner and his precious baby safe and sound and healthy. He also hates to see his partner in so much discomfort throughout all this

I have failed my fellow HSR cuties bc I have been HOARDING some delicious content in my drafts while waiting for the hyperfixation to return. Everyone thank @delirious-donna for pinging my last brain cell and reminding me that hoyoverse still exists 🙂‍↕️💕

Anywho..... Back to our scheduled simping!

Veritas is the man who always has a logical plan or a well-thought-out answer to everything. He is aloof at most times, able to step away from any situation happening in front of him so that he may analyze and produce the best course of action. He prides himself on his ability to organize his thoughts and process his feelings according to logic, oftentimes being the only person to take charge during emergencies. That is, until you wake up in the dead of night to find that your bedsheets are.... strangely damp? Oh shit.

Being the chronic over-planner, Veritas had your due date neatly penciled into his calendar for precisely two weeks from now, so when you tapped at his shoulder rather urgently, he was decently confused. "My darling, I know cravings are intense, but eating at this time of-"

You cut through his raspy, sleepy drawl- the same one you'd heard groaning obscenities against the shell of your ear as his son was conceived-" Veritas, the baby is coming."

His head twitched, raising off the pillow as if he needed both ears to hear what you were saying, "I, I apologize, but it sounded li-"

"Veritas. Get the bag. Our son is coming."

For the first time since you'd met the man, you swear that you can hear the subtle clicking of Veritas Ratio's mind running as he processes a set of data. During that particularly pregnant (ha) pause, you heard one distinct tick as he registered the condition of the bedding, and then the father of your child was immediately out of bed vaulting across the room.

A choice string of vehemently hushed obscenities falls from his lips as he snarls in frustration at all the extra fucking buckles on his goddamn pants that he's never noticed before and-

"Dear, just keep your sweatpants on. Just find a shirt and some shoes first, and then grab pants and shoes for me."

Your clear voice stops his thoughts on a dime. Of course, How had he not thought of that? His beloved wife was so brilliant.

For the first time in his entire life, Veritas's brain was simply on overdrive. His carefully separated thoughts and feelings were clashing with no intention of stopping, leaving the man on autopilot. If it were any other situation, you'd have been amused.

Veritas's mind snapped back to normal after you winced from a contraction as he helped you with your shoes. Knowing that you were in distress gave his mind the kick it needed to prioritize correctly again, and he got you to the hospital in record time.

Originally, you had planned to go to the hospital that was further away- the one Ratio didn't lecture at daily- but now that didn't seem like a possibility. Getting you comfortable as quickly as he could won by a mile in Ratio's list of priorities, so many heads turned in the Emergency Department as they suddenly heard their strictest professor's voice at three in the morning. Some twitched in their chairs, fully convinced they were in the throes of a nightmare as the widely respected, widely feared Doctor Veritas Ratio strode toward them at a breakneck pace in his pajamas.

"Mywifeishereandsheneedstobetakenuptoaroomimmediately."

The doctors glance at each other. From the sea of confused faces, that didn't make sense to anybody. "uh- sir?"

"My wife. Is here. She needs a room. Now." Veritas annunciated his words very slowly as if they were the densest people on the planet, which meant that he actually managed to speak his sentence at a somewhat normal pace.

As if to drive the point home, the nurse Veritas had left to gather your things and bring you in suddenly appeared, quickly wheeling you into the room. The staff paled as they noticed you groan softly in pain, one arm draped protectively over your heavily pregnant belly.

The medical team whisks you away to a delivery room, and Veritas is quickly thrown into an unfamiliar world. The man used to having decisive answers is sat squarely in a chair next to his wife's bedside, grasping her hand tightly as she cries out in pain. He can't stop thinking about all of the variables, all of the things that could go wrong- the way your face is scrunched up in agony- the knowledge that he's about to meet his son.

The thoughts continue on a revolving loop of horror and wonder until a shrill little cry pierces the air, and Veritas Ratio snaps to attention to meet his son for the first time.

[k0nanharv3y]

Robin Hood Au - Part 7.5

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

"I'm telling you they are pre-written messages!" Steph exclaimed over the sound of the entire family in the cave

Bruce was in front of the batcomputer, silently reading everything that a quick search threw at him when he put in "The Nest Coffee Shop" while another screen had "Drake's Industries"

Jason, Dick, and Damian were sitting on the floor reading some records. All about the acquisition of the building and material that contained the cafeteria

Cass placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled understandingly

"We are never too sure" said Dick

"The kid was a genius, why didn't he go to college? He could be in my class right now" Jason took out a school record under the name Timothy Drake

"His father died in an accident and his mother was murdered. He seems to have tried to keep Drake Industries afloat before it went bankrupt. Technically, the guy is poor" Damian threw some sheets at his older brother

Duke, who was watching everything from his spot, still in his pajamas and with traces of sleep, "Can I go to sleep now? Do you guys really need me here?"

"You can go rest now, Duke, we will wake you if something comes up" Bruce turned to look at his second youngest

"Please, don't" A yawn was the last thing heard from him before he returned to the mansion above

Steph heard the machine hum stop and turned to look at the results, before a small child snatched them away and walked away with them

"Damian!" She exclaimed indignantly

Cass smiled beside her

"There is no presence of any toxin or trace of DNA in the cardboard cup" he declared, returning to the center with his brothers "An old trail from the ink and Richard's DNA remains"

"Really?" Dick stood up and took the results from the younger's hands

"Really!, there's nothing wrong with Tim you freaks!" It seemed like everyone ignored her

"Bruce, this can't be a coincidence, right?"

All faces looked up to seek guidance from their father, who sighed and looked at his children

"It could be one"

Jason leaned on Steph's shoulder and leaned in further, making the girl flinch further. The boy smirked

"Why don't we do some field research? Let's go tomorrow!"

Steph's face was disfigured "You traitor!, I wanted to take y'all, but if you screw this up by being conspiracy theorists, I'm moving into the tower with the titans!" She exclaimed, and when she didn't get much of a response, she pulled out her last card "And I'll take Alfred with me!"

Everyone now seemed to react a little

"Tim is a good guy, he is only a fan of the Bats, you can see he's happy with his coffee shop. You can't- We can't just go and accuse him of being some kind of threat!"

And silence came to the cave

///

10am Tim hated 2am Tim, how dare he? He'd already had 4 people complaining because the coffee shop didn't have a coffee maker and therefore no coffee

The 8am Tim had crossed off all the drinks that needed coffee and posted a sheet apologising for the lack of it. But it's Gotham and you don't say no to the people of Gotham

And here he was, trying to calm down a woman who was complaining about the lack of coffee at a coffee shop and wanted a discount because this was her first time here, and it wasn't possible that a machine was broken (Tim had actually seen her here three times already, and she always ordered a tea, but she was a bitch)

He raised his hands over his face, cringing and explaining that, no, they couldn't give her a discount or any promotion and if she wanted to come back tomorrow, they would have her coffee drink

He registered the sound of the bell, but didn't get a chance to say hello because of the sounds of the woman yelling in his face

The cafeteria, otherwise, was noisy, people having breakfast, leaving their offices to take a break, others leaving work, some about to go in, a group of college students doing homework in the corner of the cafeteria. Monday mornings were actually the busiest, but Tim didn't complain (Yes, he complained a lot. He had considered hiring Bernard after getting back in touch with him, the guy needed a job, but Tim didn't like the idea of having to teach someone how to do everything)

And then a loud, familiar voice rose from behind

"Hey, there's more on the menu! Order another one!"

Tim finally turned to look at the new customers and smiled when he saw Steph

His heart sank when he saw Steph's family

The Bats

Scratch that. The Waynes

Scratch that again. Bruce Wayne

The woman turned around as if she had been whipped, her brow furrowed in rage

"And what is your problem? Isn't it possible that a coffee shop doesn't sell coffee and doesn't offer compensation for it?" She spat angrily and Tim stepped back a little. Not because of the woman, but because... if he left quietly, he could pretend the kitchen was on fire or... or call Shiva to finish the job

"My problem is that there are other people in line, and it's too early for a bitch like yo-" Her brother covered her mouth, smiling apologetically on his face

The woman seemed to be about to continue arguing. But an alarm on her phone stopped her, and with grunts and a red face, she stomped out of the cafeteria, insulting her

Tim was already halfway to the kitchen when Steph leaned over the bar, smiling hugely and leaning almost half her body on the counter

"Hi, pretty boy!" She greeted with her usual energy, looking directly at him

Tim took a deep breath and smiled, his shoulders tense. Maybe they could blame the woman who had just yelled at him, but... But he walked back to the bar, smiling at the girl

"Hi, Stephanie, do you want your usual, or will you try something else today?" He started typing some things on the tablet next to the cash register and pretended, really pretended with all his might not to notice the onetwothreefour... six people behind her

"I actually want a whole meat, this time" she explained, trying to see what Tim was doing. "To have it here, is it possible?"

Tim scanned the entire cafeteria, stopping at an empty table in a far corner. People didn't like sitting there because it was only a one-seat table and it was small, and Tim had to pretend he didn't know the entire Wayne family was here

///

Part 2 of the Part 7 i think this is hilarious

[slutforsnow]

High But Not Stupid

Oh my gods?? a one shot?? hell yeah <3 Thanos my love 💜 YUMESONA X THANOS

CW: Discrimination, 18+ implications, transphobia.

I hope the translator I used wasn't awful💔

Player 069 was.... unhinged, to say the least, and it wasn't just because he was the only American in a room filled with 455 other men and women. He was the only foreigner in the giant bunk room, and not to mention, he was a broke college student with terrible spending habits. Yet, Thanos wanted him on his team from day one.

The male had somehow snuck a butcher knife into the games and currently was spinning the blade between his fingers as Thanos & Nam-gyu drunkenly rambled about non-sense while being high, Thanos throwing in his rapping skills. Se-mi, Min-su & Cael watched them, talking amongst each other in rough English, the two teaching Caelus Korean to try and break down that language barrier.

It was just another couple of hours of waiting for the next game when Cael had to use the toilet and he begrudgingly pushed himself up.

"나는 화장실에 가고 있습니다. 잠깐 후에 돌아올게요," He told them, slowly pronunciating the words so he didn't mess up. [Translation: I am going to the bathroom. I will be back in a minute]

"Well done!" Se-mi told him, playfully swatting him on the arm. "좋아지고 있어요!" [Translation: "You're getting better!"]

Caelus gave her a smile once he mentally translated her words and walked off to the bathroom, but not before putting his knife on the bunk he had been sitting on.

Once he was passed the guard, he walked into the men's bathroom, only to be slammed into the wall, hitting the ground, his glasses sliding off his face clattering against the cold tiles.

"AUGH, HIJO DE PUTA," Caelus groaned, his ears ringing from the force of the fall. Muffled laughter came from above him as he tried to force himself up, only to be met with a kick to the stomach, which ripped a grunt of pain as he hit the floor again. [Translation: "SON OF A BITCH"]

"그녀의 진짜 목소리가 여기 있어요," An older man's voice said, snickering. [Translation: "There's her real voice"]

'Her,' the man had said. In Cael's buzzing head, that was a word he caught, and he groaned. Older men who were stuck in their transphobic ways and probably needed their dicks wet on a 'small foreign girl'. They just needed confirmation that Cael wasn't cisgender and seized the opportunity when Cael walked in.

He let out a shaky sigh, pushing himself up, coughing. Of course, he left his knife back with Se-mi. He left his knife behind the ONE time he truly needed it. Damn South Korea and its lack of anti-discrimination laws. Shaking his head, he pushed his hair out of his face, his vision blurry as he searched the floor for his glasses. Fuck, his vision must've been shitty if he couldn't find them on tiles.

"Looking for these?" *One of the men asked, holding Cael's glasses in front of his face, snatching them away when the American reached for them. "Ah, ah, not yet. You'll get them back when you do us a favor."

"For fucks sake-" Cael started, sitting up now, leaning against the stall divider.

But the younger was cut off when the familiar aiuns of random English broke into the bathroom. "Heyy, man, leave him be!"

"Thanos," Caelus said, laughing as he easily plucked Cae's glasses from the other two players. "Thank the gods you're here."

"Heard some whispers, spreadin' Caelus' name.; Lemme set the record straight, listen close, it's plain: Leave that trans guy alone, he's just cruisin' his own lane; He ain't botherin' nobody, livin' his true life free,; Got no time for drama, got more important company.; Don't be hatin', perpetuatin' foolish strife,; 'Cause last time I checked, Caelus rolls with Thanos, that's his lifeline!; Yeah, Thanos, the Titan, collectin' stones with glee,; Got Caelus by his side, a loyal friend, you see?; So back the heck off, keep your negativity away,; Before Thanos snaps his fingers and you vanish in a day!; Respect the pronouns, respect the space he holds,; Caelus ain't your problem, let the story unfold.; Mind your business, stay in your lane, it's the golden rule,; And remember, Caelus is protected by a very powerful tool!" Thanos rapped, taking the other 3 men by surprise.

Once the shock blew over, the older men grumbled, glaring down at Caelus before leaving. Thanos pulled Cae to his feet, rubbing his back. "You safe, okay? Thanos got you," He informed, handing Cael his glasses.

Not even attempting to get his brain unscramble, Cael just spoke in English. "Thanks, Thanos.. but how did you know to come check on me-?" He asked, looking up at the purple-haired man. He simply shrugged.

"Had a feeling. You also left your knife behind, which confused me," He replied. "I may be high, but I'm not stupid."

Cael just laughed, putting his glasses on. "Definitely not. Now to do what i came in here to do and shit."

@noxiousmelody @sevenratz

[buggyboba]

Hypnotized

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𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖

↳ ▣ | Hi my loves, sorry it took forever, but we did it! surprise! anyway I really said this man whines, and enjoys praises. I don't think I really gendered reader, so this is in fact for the girls, the gays and the theys~ It is smut so like mdni, proceed with caution. I did do TWs, so there is that. I could use some comments, I was really flippant about this one, like ya'll almost didn't get it, I almost scrapped it, but we are here so hopefully you all like it~

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Dhawan!master x Reader (GN)

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

↳ ▣ | Anon asked | The reader and the master are together in the library and the reader confesses to the master some things that they want to try in the bedroom to heat things up (including sexual hypnosis) and how the reader would like to be in control. The master agrees, and they both then go into the bedroom and do those things. After a while, the master snaps his fingers, revealing that the reader had been hypnotized the entire time. the reader the master never left the library (its up to you if the reader remembers or not.) Either way the master now knows the reader's hidden desires and wants to try them for real sometime soon.

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | SMUT, unprotected sex, not really gender descriptive. Hypnosis. petnames, hand job briefly.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

↳ ▣ | 2700

𝔸𝕠𝟛 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜

↳ ▣ | x

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The library was peaceful, and the fire that you two sat in front of warmed your bones; it was nice after a long, stressful day of running and crime. Maybe crime was putting it mildly; it could have been war crimes, but he kept you out of it on a need-to-know basis, and you didn’t need to know. You looked through an old book, thinking on some things, and one thing had been on your mind lately: you enjoyed being physical with him when he let you; he was oddly touchy lately. Like right now, he was leaning against your shoulder as he read his own book, fixing the glasses he wore every so often. The silence between you two was comfortable, the crackle of the fire and low music from the record player. Classical; sometimes it was rock or 70s pop; sometimes it was ‘current’ pop. The Master had a wide range of musical interests, but the classical music was fitting for the mood. You lazily let your fingers trail through his hair; you swore he shifted to move into the touch, but you knew better than to say anything.

“I've been thinking.” You started.

“Oh, that's dangerous, pet.” He smirked, not looking up from his book; he licked his thumb and flipped the page.

“Hey! Seriously, I want to try some…” You paused, trying to form the words correctly, to articulate exactly what you wanted. “New things.” You continued.

“New things? Is space and time travel getting boring to you, dear?” He mused and looked at you, snapping the book closed.

“No! No, not no.” You shook your head. “That is still very exciting, and I adore traveling with you.” You clarified quickly. “And before you get ideas, I enjoy you, adore you, but there are some things in a more intimate setting that I would like to explore with you.” You said it felt like you were trying to do a proper negotiation with him. He chuckled and sat up.

“What proper words for saying you have some deeper kinks.” He teased, and you cleared your throat, a blush against your cheeks. “Oh, go on, I'm sure I've heard worse.” He grinned and patted your knee, leaning back. You nodded and took a breath in, trying to decide exactly what you wanted to say.

“Well, it’s something that will benefit us both.” You started; he tilted his head slightly, looking at you with those dark brown eyes.

“You don’t have to bargain with me, you know this, My Dear.” He said there was almost a slight pout. You gave a weak, breathy chuckle and shook your head; of course, you knew you could just say what you wanted and hoped he would oblige.

“Well, I mean, I…have a few requests.” You settled on and nodded, “I would like to explore being the one in control. I know it’s a big ask, considering your whole thing is ‘The Master.’ But I think it could create a new dynamic, and then there is an opposite of that. I know you, um... hypnotize,” you said, searching his face.

“I can…in fact do that, yes…it’s a fun little thing I can do.” He said his face was unreadable, and you hated that; you wanted to know what he thought of your requests. “Is that all, pet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because the way you made it sound, it was like you were going to ask for something heavy…not that I mind heavy.” He looked pensive for a moment before he gave you that charming grin of his.

“I mean, for the moment, yes.” You gave a sort of curt nod, and he frowned.

“You know if you want something, you can ask; we have been…intimate.” He decided on the word; you knew he viewed such acts as beneath him, but you also knew that wasn’t the full truth; he could say that, but his actions spoke louder than words, just like how he would say he had a human allergy, but then you would be trapped in his arms when he decided he finally needed sleep or craved contact. You found he was like a cat; everything had to be his idea, and he liked to pretend that you were just a passing fancy or a companion that he could prove his brilliance to and show off that he had one too. “And being open can lead us down some interesting paths,” he continued.

“Yes, I know that.” You nodded.

“And I do like to know everything about you…” He grinned; it was light, but also held a sort of sinister air to it, though that was something you had gotten familiar with. There were always little red flags; hell, the man himself was a red flag, but he would look at you with those eyes or say something so sweet it knocked you off your feet, and you told yourself the feelings you got weren’t just one-sided; you were his human, and while he was a killer and brute, the same hands that were stained in eons of blood would touch you with soft reverence. He always kept you safe; if he had wanted you dead or didn’t feel something, you would have been dead by now. You watched him shrink a man just for looking at you. Possessive came with the territory, but it didn’t matter at the end of the day; you loved that violent, funky alien.

“Well, one thing at a time, you know. Maybe later we can get into heavy things; right now I would be interested in starting slow, figuring out that dynamic a bit, maybe.” You said, He hummed watching you; he was silent for a few moments before he nodded. His hand moved up your arm, to your shoulder, and then to cup the side of your neck. You felt his fingers drum against your pulse point, a subconscious one-two-three-four, though now it was just an old habit for him. He leaned forward, and your lips parted softly, but the kiss you expected didn’t come. He chuckled at your over-eager action and how you melted, softly.

“You are a needy thing.” He whispered close to your lips, so close you felt his lips brush against the corner of yours, his thumb stroking your jawline. “But you are my needy thing.” He smirked, his nose crinkled up before his mouth was capturing the space between your jaw and neck. His tongue pressed, taking in the taste of your skin. He made a throaty growled sound as he pressed closer to you.

Your mind felt foggy, your body warm at his actions; you let a breathless chuckle escape, his fingers trailing down your arm, before gripping your wrist as he nipped at the spot his mouth pressed against, before sucking a deep mark into your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed out at the feeling; his teeth grazed your skin, biting just enough to give some pain before he pulled away, which pulled a sad sound from your throat, but his hand moved to grab yours, fingers tangled together as he stood up, pulling you up with him.

“You wanted to be in control, no?” He asked, looking you in the eye. You nodded a bit, and he moved to lead you out of the library; your head was spinning, hazy from the feeling, and your neck stung a bit from the love mark. Love bite? From whatever he had done to your neck. He opened the door and motioned you in, and you happily entered the familiar bed awaited, dark covers of black and sheets of deep purple. It was a good color combination, one that had been consistent between Missy and him; you didn’t know about the Lumiat; he barely talked about that time; he called it his ‘phase’ and left it at that.

You turned and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a kiss that was more biting and tongue than anything as you pulled him towards the bed. He grinned hungrily, kissing you back, his hands cupping your cheeks. As he let you lead him, he was mindful to not let either of you fall. As your hands moved to undo his shirt, barely breaking the kiss, his hands moved down to pull up your shirt, casting it aside. He broke the kiss to kiss the other side of your neck as you worked on getting him free from his pants and boxers. His arm wrapped around your waist as you quickly got out of your pants and underwear. The movements felt ravaging, unbridled, and passionate. You moved to push him against the bed; a low growl escaped his throat, and you were on him, straddling his hips as you captured his mouth, his hands moving to your hips and up to hold your waist, his fingers splayed across your lower back. You trailed your kisses to his neck, biting him, returning the favor of the earlier love bites. His fingers tightened against your back, and a low sound rumbled in his chest.

The sound turned higher, almost a whine, as you rolled your hips against his with a cheeky grin. You hadn’t expected that sound from him, but goddamn, you wanted to make him make it again. You peppered a few kisses against his lips, pulling back each time he tried to kiss you back, producing an annoyed sound from his lips. “You are a needy thing,” you hit him back with his line from earlier. He blinked at you, a scowl crossing his lips, but you kissed him again before he could say anything back to you. His hands ran up your back, and you took that as a sign to roll your hips again, slowly starting to rut against him; you could feel his arousal.

His breath hitched a bit as he slid his hands back down to your hips; clinging to them, he tried to pull you down more, and one of your hands grabbed his throat. You knew nothing would come of it, but it gave him pause at the display of control. “Nuh-uh.” You sounded your other hand, grabbing one of his wrists. “You get what I give you,” you warned; his eyes widened, and then he gave a sort of weak nod, watching you.

You hadn’t felt like this before, being the one in control, getting to set the pace, setting what pleasure that both of you were allowed. It felt good, him shifting beneath you; the way he pressed against you, you knew he couldn't handle giving control up for a long time, so you would take what you could.

“Say please.” You grinned as you moved your hand down your fingers wrapped around his aching member, his hips jolting as you grabbed him. The command registered in his mind barely; at least you weren't asking for him to say something nice.

“Now darling—” he began, with a low hiss as you stroked him, your thumb rubbing under and over the tip. “You expect me to beg?” He practically whined again. “I do not—” he was interrupted by your grip getting a bit tighter, and you moving to position above him, letting him tease against your entrance.

He wanted to thrust, to bury himself in your warmth; he could too; he could take control back and take what he wanted, but this was for you, he had to remind himself. He breathed out when you let the engorged tip sink in some. “Please!” The word came out quickly, almost desperately. It surprised both of you.

The foreign word from his lips caused you to grin more. “What was that?” You had moved your hands to his hips, holding them down so he couldn't push up into you. He looked at you, his features softened, looking at you with those soft, dark brown puppy dog eyes.

“Darling!” He started. “I…please!” he said, sounding exasperated at having to beg but needing to move, so he would play your game for now.

“What a good boy!” You purred out; his eyes flashed something, longing, excitement, at the praise. You filed that away for use at another time, something to see about later. “One more time, puppy.” You let your fingers graze his cheek. He had called you plenty of pet names; it was time you got to call him one. You liked this, being in control, bringing him down to this level; it made you feel good.

He frowned, “Stop teasing.” He breathed out, trying to buck up, but your one hand was firm on his hip. “Ah fine, please, Bunny, please.” He relented.

“See, not so hard, and I am benevolent; I won't make you beg more like you do to me.” You allowed yourself to sink down fully. A low moan escaped your lips; his hands moved to your thighs, holding them as if to anchor himself. His hips rolled up and drew another moan from your throat; you moved up, sinking back down, and finding your rhythm. His fingers dragged across your skin, moving up your sides and back down your stomach as you moved. Soft sighs and growled-out groans escaped him. He watched you bounce his eyes hazed with lust and something darker, yet his touch remained almost reverent, worshiping in his own way. He moved his hands to your arms as you put your hands on his chest to keep yourself steady, and he pulled them forward so you would lean down, his mouth capturing yours, his tongue tangled against yours, taking in your taste. His hands moved one at the nape of your neck and the other around your waist as he picked up the pace. His mouth swallowed your groans, and yours swallowed his; you felt the pooling tightness in your stomach, the pleasure starting to push at the edge. Your hands tangled in his hair as your sounds pitched higher, the kiss broke, and the cacophony of sound was freed; your cheek brushed against his, the stubble on his cheeks scraping against your skin as you panted and whined into his ear before your body shook and tensed. You groaned a low ‘Master’ into his ear as your pleasure washed over you. Your eyes closed, the hazy pleasure feeling washed over you and cleared.

When you opened your eyes, the crackling of the fire caught your attention; there he sat fully clothed, that cheeky smirk edging at his lips as he was reading his book. You were also fully clothed, though you felt the stickiness between your thighs, and your heart was still pounding. There was confusion in your eyes as you looked around, then back at him. “What?” you stammered.

“What?” He parroted and looked at you, closing his book again. “Oh…that…yes…you wanted to be hypnotized.” He said, Looking at you. “So I did. Then I wanted to see how far you would go and what images you could be guided to see, not hard to do, of course. And my, my, what a naughty pet.” He grinned.

You didn't know what emotion to land on, and your brows furrowed as you looked at him. “You mean…” you trailed off. How should you feel knowing that it wasn't real? God, it felt so real.

“Yeah. I wanted to know what would happen, so I indulged you, formed a hypothesis, and the results are quite interesting.” He grinned, looking at your thighs. “You asked, and I delivered.” He shrugged. “Funny how you picture me whining. I don't whine,” he mused. “Begging was a fun choice too. Did you like playing in control? Of course you did,” he said, shaking his head.

You scrunched your nose up and made an annoyed sound before you leaned over and bit him hard on the neck; the whine that turned into a hiss startled both of you, and he pulled away quickly. “Ah…yes, well…point made, Dear.” He muttered and put his hand to his neck, rubbing the spot where you bit.

You moved to get up, to go bathe and change, but before you got to the door, he called out. “Maybe tonight I'll indulge you with the real thing, pet.”

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Taglist: @sessa23 @toastvogel @super-just-because @kurtsmellsliketeenspiritt @chaoswithrory @d3lta-200x @bobabats @koscheiluv @that-one-creep @bands-tv-movies-is-me @the-noble-watermelon @penumbra-the-unicorn @lilyfrogisnotneurotypical @millabela @Variansimpclaire @neurodiverse-dumpingground @sirenympha @frillytimetraveler @skarkkie

If you would like to be added to the tag list [ x ]

[marleneoftheopera]

Clip from the (forthcoming?) Chinese cast recording!

[tinyclowndancer]

pspspsps porretta besties from the dark place who refused to bring this song to its end here's a little something for you. 🎙️

[pinkfey]

i may be obsessed.

[tytonnidaie]

its always when u have just finished a big project that ur brain starts spinning the creativity wheel. but u have no energy to actually Make the idea

[snowshinobi]

take your dead newlywed wife’s soul back to the surface with you, but you must not look back at her until you both get there. let’s say Orpheus was able to do it. what’s that supposed to prove? Hades and Persephone only cut this deal bc they were genuinely moved by Orpheus’s grief. this is a weird time to play games. this condition has to mean something.

i wanna believe it’s about trust. even if Eurydice gets her life back, it’s not guaranteed that she and Orpheus will live happy together forever. bargaining with the gods of the dead for your love’s soul back is a leap of faith and so is marriage. not looking back proves that Orpheus accepts the inherent volatility of love. he’s not bringing Eurydice back just for himself. he’s also bringing her back for her.

[radrobotz]

tbh the way every time i did record myself and sometimes in general irl i try to keep my voice lower in pitch was definitely a fucking red flag that something was wrong with the gender