#haven / home puppet

[of-the-eclipse]

WH sketches using references.... woahh business and non-business

Also some of my puppet home because of course... 1st one using a ref

Yayyyyyyy 🌸⭐️🦋🏠

[xxsociallyunacceptablepuppetxx]

Announcement.

(I'm not very good when it comes to coloring things so bear with me here.)

SAVE HAVEN AU COMIC WILL START UP IN DECEMBER 2024

For those of you who don't know,

●Safe Haven was created as a au that shelters and protects aus who happen to be on the run, hunted down or running from Hunter. Their initial universe gets paused when they enter this world.

●There are two wallys, I know.

●the plot follows the idea, "Hey what if the aus could feel neglected or abandoned by their creator?"

I hope you all will enjoy this comic when it comes out

:)

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself.

While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.

You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.

It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.

Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.

You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.

It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.

While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.

You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.

You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 

“They chew up people like you.”

 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that.

And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space. 

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.

Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning. 

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.

That’s it! 

You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.

Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building. 

You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel. 

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.

Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.

You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.

Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you. 

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go. 

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.

There were more important things to worry about. 

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.

You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. 

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. 

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh. 

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you

It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears. 

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.

All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.

Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making. 

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.

He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.

Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. 

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

[heartfullofleeches]

You may not rest. There are monsters nearby.

Yandere Entity + Doomsday Prepper Reader

Gender Neutral Reader. Light horror elements. Reader has severe paranoia.

-

It isn't safe up there anymore.

Even now. Sectioned off from the upper levels of your home in a coffin of your own making, you can still hear it. The scrapping. The whispers. Small instances you made the pitiful, careless error of mistaking as the odd creak of your bedroom door. Why hadn't you left when you had the chance? Your fears and doubts hounded you like a plague, yet - in earlier days - you willed yourself to believe the trick of sound was just that. Your sight was the only true you needed. If only you knew it was your very own two eyes that had deceived you from the start.

Precious hours, finances, and the pain of departure stranded you in this place. This was your house - your home. The safe zone you created to protect yourself from the world and everything in it that would ruin you. You were so caught up keeping every danger out, you knew bothered to check for ones that were already there - decades before you took your first breath. An ancient, rotting carcass; old as if not predating the foundation of the worn, but well kept house that felt like a steal at the time of purchase for the bring it was listed. It smells the decay from your flesh as you waste each day away afraid of the unknown and discovered the ideal candidate for its equal.

A mortal who frees the world that birthed it to the degree that you do is not meant for that reality in its eyes. You gave up everything to make their land a safe haven for yourself and now it is too late. Where else is safer for you than the arms of a being who would embrace what others consider a fault?

"Are you still down there, Y/n? Look, there's nothing here. I checked every nook and cranny of this place, but there's nothing to be afraid of besides that wasp's nest on your porch. Come on out, take a shower, and we'll get you something to eat- Sound like a plan?"

The blankets wrapped around your shivering body nearly suffocate you as you press them firmly against your face. Your close friend of several years. You would've believed it was them had they not kicked you out of their apartment after chunks of spoiled meat began appearing on their doorstep. It's trying to trick you again. It's done so before. Loved ones, figures of authority, even characters from shows you watched in the past - It won't stop at nothing until you open that basement door.

"Y/n? H-hey... It's me. We used to sit together and lunch sometimes? Your parents gave me your address, but when I got here I noticed your front door was open.. Are you okay in there? Are you even in there? Open the door so I know you're s- so I know you're alright."

The fatal flaw in its mimicry. That word - it makes the creature upset. In its eyes, you won't be safe until you submit and thus promising your safety while wearing a false face angers it. Its not like the high-school crush act would work on you anyway. You doubt it was a car accident that took their life, but the less you knew the better.

"It consumes. Swarms. Devours. The fears you let puppet your sweet flesh will tear away at your meat and leave nothing in its wake before any disaster takes you from this world. Allow us feast upon your pain. We will pluck it from your bones before there is nothing for it to cling onto. This house is your domain. Embrace it. Embrace us."

There is it. That....thing's real voice. The exhaustion latching onto every word matches the heavy weight of your eyelids as you fight to keep them awake. You know it can't get in, but you can't take the risk of falling asleep. You're tired. So very tired, but you can't rest now.

There's a monster nearby.

[agent-grey-fics]

Oh, I love it and hate it at the same time. - Finnick Odair

Pairing: Finnick Odair x fem reader Wordcount: 6k pure filth

Warnings: porn without a polt, filth, drugs, mentioning of prostitution, sex, mental breakdown Summary: Finnick and y/n both won their games and when they returned home it became clear that they were puppets in Snow's hands. They’re the same, something they love and hate at the same time.

AN: This is pure filth, you're welcome.

A victor. That’s what you are. 

A victor of a game you never wanted to play in the first place. When you got reaped at the age of fifteen you never imagined getting out alive, you thought that you would get killed in the first couple of days by one of the careers. But the usual alliances never formed, the careers started killing each other off by day three and the odds ended up being in your favour after all. You were the victor of the 67th Hunger Games and became a Capitol favourite. Not that you won much. You got PTSD and woke up almost every night screaming bloody murder because of the flashbacks that haunted your dreams. That was the life of a victor. Well not only the haunting dreams but you were also expected to show your face at the presidential balls organised by Snow in the capital. It was no secret that he played the victors as puppets and used them in any way he pleased. That’s how you ended up on the dancefloor with a middle-aged man whose hands kept creeping lower and lower on your back. That’s what you hated the most. They made you a killer and when you got out you weren’t free at all. They promised you a life full of prosperity and serenity in the victor's village back home in District 5 but it was all a lie. You had your peace for three weeks, four tops, but after your victor's tour Snow invited you for a chat in his office and you finally realised you were on this train forever. He made it clear that you were his property from now on and that he could use you as he pleased. 

The guy you were dancing with was one of Snow’s associates, he was surprisingly friendly. Most of them didn’t treat you as a person, you were just a warm and desirable body for them to use as they pleased. You let your eyes wander over the dancefloor when all of a sudden they locked with a familiar green pair. Finnick gave you his famous cheeky smile but it didn’t reach his eyes, they had a sad tone to them. That’s when you noticed the lady on his arm, another Capotil elite. You gave him a small smile. The two of you were caught in the same trap, he a bit longer than you were. You met him at the end of your Victor's tour, after your chat with Snow. Finnick asked you to dance and while he spun you around the floor he warned you for the president and made sure you understood the danger. After that day he started looking out for you. The two of you stuck together, tried to save each other as much as possible and looked after one another. He became your safe haven. The capitol wondered out loud what kind of relationship their favourite victors had. They speculated that they spend their nights together in his bed. Even after it became public that they both had multiple lovers, the gossip continued. You did share his bed but not in the way they expected. You shared it when both of you were lonely, longing for loving touches instead of hungry ones. You could count the times you’ve kissed on one hand and never went further than that. You always wondered how it would be if the two of you had a normal Victors’ life. Would you have met during the next games as mentors and become friends? Would you be as close as you were now? You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to the male Victor, but it went beyond his good looks. The two of you just clicked, probably because of the shared trauma but there was so much more to him. He was kind, warm and loyal. He would do anything to protect the ones he loved. Finnick was just Finnick, he was one of a kind. 

‘Don’t you agree Miss Green?’ The man's lips almost touched your ear and a shudder ran down your spine. ‘I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that please?’ You averted your gaze from Finnick so you could look at your client. His laughter roared deep in his chest as he saw your confused expression. ‘I said that this party was getting boring and that we should go back to my place.’ Your heart dropped when you heard his proposition. ‘Is it okay that I go to the bathroom quickly and that we leave afterwards?’ He nodded. ‘Sure, I’ll wait for you in the foyer.’ With a small smile, you made your way across the room. Some partygoers greeted you as you passed them by. When you stood in the bathroom you slammed the door shut as you tried to calm yourself down. ‘Come on y/n, you’ve done this a million times. It’s just another guy and it’s just sex. You will be out of there in no time’ you mumbled to yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror whiles you fished a little baggy out of your bra. Another side effect of the games was your drug dependency. It started as a medical treatment to keep you sane but now all you wanted was to forget the games and their hands touching your skin. 

After swallowing the pill you waited a couple of minutes until you felt the familiar haze creeping into your system. You washed your hands and walked out without paying attention to where you were walking. You bumped into a tall person, their hands encircling your waist to prevent you from falling to the ground. “Shit, sorry.’ When you looked up you were greeted by the sea-green eyes you learned to love. ‘Oh Finnick, hi.’ He gave you one of his dashing grins when he saw the shock on your face. ‘You’re leaving with him?’ A soft sigh left your lips. ‘One of Snow’s associates.’ He nodded understandingly grin still on his lips but that faded when he saw your dilated pupils. ‘Are you kidding me y/n? You’re high right now?’ You took a step back and shrugged your shoulders. ‘You’re high all of the time, so it’s really not your place to tell me what I can do and what not.’ Finnick knew that the two of you were in the same boat, being sold to the highest bidders and you both had developed your own coping mechanisms along the way. ‘Never whiles I’m on the job.’ It was a mumble when it left his lips and he gave you an accusing look. ‘Yeah sorry Finn but I cannot do this sober. I should get back, let me pass please.’ Finnick dropped his head as he took a step aside to let you pass. ‘Text me when you’re done? I’ll pick you up so you don’t need to stay over.’ You just nodded as you brushed past him so you could get to the foyer. ‘There you are, ready to go?’ A fake smile found its way to your lips as you nodded your head. ‘Let’s go.’

Most of the time they took you to fancy hotels so their partners didn’t find out about their little affairs but he took you home. When you walked into his flat it was striking how neat his place was, you weren’t expecting this. There were pictures of groups of smiling people, holding champagne flutes and landscapes. He was wealthy, hence the penthouse and the ultra-modern design of the place. ‘What did you say your job was again?’ He had talked about boring meetings and how the dance was a much-welcome distraction. ‘Military detail.’ You jumped a little when you heard how close he was. ‘Right, sorry it was a busy night.’ His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, tracing soft circles on your hips. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ His hands spun you around and he planted his lips on yours. Throughout the years you learned that the more you fought the harder it was, so you just went along with his moves. You hoped that you could get out of this place soon. 

02:45 Can you come to get me?  - y/n

You texted Finnick fifteen minutes ago with your location attached after you told the client you didn’t stay over. He offered to drive you home but you said it was okay. When you walked out of the apartment complex you noticed Finnicks bike, of course he rode his motor here instead of his car. He held a spare helmet out and you took it without saying a word. The two of you had established this relationship where you showed up but didn’t ask questions. As you swung your leg over the passenger seat you mumbled a small thanks. He sped away, the wind gave you goosebumps but so you pulled yourself even closer to Finnick. You had your arms tightly wrapped around his waist as a support so you didn't fall off. He placed one of his hands on yours as the two of you rode through the night. The ride back to your place took you less than ten minutes. You were standing in front of your small studio, looking for your keys. Finnick leaned nonchalantly against the wall next to you. ‘You know who that was, right?’ You just shrugged your shoulders. ‘Some military guy, didn’t pay too much attention.’ A soft laugh escaped his lips. ‘He’s head of the peacekeepers and Snow’s personal security personnel.’ ‘Oh.’ You finally opened your door and walked in, Finnick following close behind. ‘I’m gonna take a shower, please stay?’ He nodded as he made himself comfortable on your couch, kicking his shoes off. ‘I know the drill.’ The roles had been reversed hundreds of times when he was a mess and you had to put him back together. You immediately turned o the shower when you entered the bathroom, the water as hot as you could handle so it would burn the feeling of his wandering fingers away. The clothes you wore were thrown in a pile on the floor and you looked at your body in the mirror, bruises started to form on your thighs. At least it wasn’t in plain sight. When the water made contact with your body it stung a bit, but after a while it was a pleasant feeling. You washed your hair and body with a sandalwood-smelling shampoo and body wash and thirty minutes later you walked back into your living room where Finnick was flipping through tv channels, long shirt covering the black sleep shorts you were wearing. He patted the cushion next to him, signalling for you to sit down. The blissful haze you fell a couple of hours ago was wairing off and your hands were trembling a bit. ‘It’s getting late, I would rather go to bed.’ You mumbled as you pointed over your shoulder to your small bedroom. ‘Sure, whatever you want honey.’ He reached for his shoes to put them back on and leave you alone, you looked exhausted. ‘No stay please, I don’t want to be alone tonight.’ He didn’t say anything when he got up out of his seat, when he passed you by towards your room he grabbed your hand so he could pull you along. You immediately crawled into your bed and left the covers open for Finnick who was taking off his clothes so he could slip into the pyjamas he kept at your place. When he stood at the side of your bed he just saw the broken girl he met after her games when she first came out of the arena. The girl he nursed back to life to the best of his abilities. You looked so broken and small.

Your back was turned towards him when you felt the bed dipping in next to you. ‘Come here,’ he mumbled whiles he threw an arm across your waist pulling you into his chest. A shaky breath left your lips as you felt his body heat against your skin. You turned around in his hold so you could face him. ‘Finnick I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. The appearances at the parties I can handle, I can pretend to be happy to be there but the sleeping around with half of the Capitol’s elite is killing me.’ Tears welt up in your eyes and your vision got blurry. ‘You know what happens if we stop, you saw what they did to Johanna.’ She was the victor of the 71st Hunger Games and her entire family was murdered when she refused to be Snow’s puppet. ‘My family doesn’t even want to see me anymore, they think I’m some cheap whore.’ It was true, They were embarrassed for you when you visited them since your whole life was smeared on TV and in the tabloids. Everyone knew what you were doing but they didn't know why you were doing it. That didn't matter to them, they had already decided who you were. ‘He already took everything away from me.’ He gently rubbed your back, a comforting gesture. ‘They just don’t know what’s going on.’ You pressed your cheek against his chest while you sneaked your arm around his waist. ‘We’re going to be ok y/n, we’ll be ok.’

A week had passed since Finnick had spent the night at your place, you hadn’t heard from him since. It wasn’t unusual, the two of you needed space and alone time as well. You had spent the last hour on your makeup and hair since you were expected at a party again when your phone lit up with a text.

08:15 Need a ride? - F 

You replied a simple yes, knowing that he would show up within the next fifteen minutes. Tonight you were invited just as a guest, no clients or hidden agendas. Just you and Finnick socialising with the elites as usual. As you stood in front of the mirror in your room there was a knock at the door. ‘The door’s open Finn!’ You yelled back while you fixed the straps of your dress. You decided to wear a red floor-length dress with small spaghetti straps, it was a simple look but you were in love with the gown. ‘Y/n, are you ready to go?’ He turned around the corner when he saw you standing in front of the mirror and let out a wolf whistle. ‘Too much?’ He shook his head. ‘No, just enough you look great.’ A smile spread across your lips as you took his own appearance. ‘You look not too bad yourself either.’ It was a joke, he looked handsome and he knew he did. He gave you a wink as he stretched his hand out towards you. ‘Let’s get the gossip mill going again.’ You shook your head as a laugh rolled off your lips.  ‘Yeah let’s go.’ Finnick’s driver dropped the two of you off at the entrance of the mansion where the party took place. The stairs towards the house were packed, some of them turning their heads as they saw the two of you arrive. ‘Let’s give them something to talk about, shall we?’ With those words he slid his arm around your middle, placing his hand on the small of your back so he could guide you through the mass. You could feel their gazes burning on your skin as the two of you made your way towards the entrance of the building. You said your hello’s too familiar faces and plastered a smile on your lips. When you were inside Finnick walked in front of you whiles he grabbed one of your hands in his as he pulled you along. ‘What do you want to drink?’ He came to a stop at the beverage table. The table looked like a full-on bar with fancy drinks on display. ‘Something strong, need to be tipsy as soon as possible.’ Finnick reached for two tequila-based cocktails and handed one to you. ‘There you go, love.’ You took a sip and pulled a shocked face, those were strong. The two of you walked to the entrance of the main room so you could take a look at all those who were attending. Without thinking about it, he put an arm around you, his hand resting on your hip and you leaned into his touch. ‘What was the party for again?’ You asked him. Finnick had always been better at these events, he always knew who was hosting and what the occasion was. ‘The oldest daughter of the Pierces and the second eldest son of the Oakleys are engaged, so their parents threw an engagement party.’ You nodded as you remembered when you heard his words. ‘Right.’ His thumb traced small circles over the dress’s fabric at your hip and you were wondering if he was doing it on purpose. ‘They will gossip no matter what we’re doing so you don’t have to give a big performance,’ You joked as you nudged his side softly. ‘Mh?’ For a minute you thought that he didn’t know what he was doing but then you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Finnick Odair, unbelievable.’ A hoarse laugh left his lips before he took another sip of the drink in his hand.

‘What do you think of a dance?’ He looked down at you, waiting for your answer. ‘Yeah sure, but I was hoping for more than one tho.’ Finnick emptied his glass and you followed his lead, pulling a face when the alcohol burned down your throat. ‘You have my undivided attention all night Miss Green.’ You rolled your eyes at his comment as you pushed him in front of you. ‘If you say so Odair.’ Once the two of you found a place on the dancefloor he pulled you in by your hips taking one hand in his and started slowly swaying to the music. You placed your cheek against his chest and let him lead as you closed your eyes. His heartbeat pounded softly in your ear. Finnick lowered his head so he could whisper in your ear. ‘They are all staring.’ A small smile spread across your lips as his warm breath tickled your skin. You lifted your head from his chest and looked around, they indeed were eying the two of you. You could almost see the wheels spinning in their heads trying to figure out what you guys were to each other. ‘You wanted to give them a show.’ He rolled his eyes and a laugh left his lips. ‘I’m not complaining, I just warned you about what’s happening.’ You shrugged your shoulders. It was in these moments that you felt free and normal. Just a girl dancing with a guy she liked. He softly stroked a lost strand of hair behind your ear, it was such an intimate feeling that it made you blush. ‘Did I make the Miss Green blush?’ He had this cocky grin on his lips when he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Oh shut up Finnick.’ As the song ended the two of you found your way back to the bar, going for shots of tequila this time. 

The more alcohol flowed the more handsy you both became, not that you minded. By two in the morning, Finnick had your back pressed flush against his front and moved his hips along with yours to the rhythm of the music, hands roaming your body at the same time. You had thrown one arm back around his neck pulling him closer. You knew what they say, ‘Tequila is nasty but after a few shots, so am I’ and you definitely were far past acting descent and composed. But you weren’t the only ones, the dancefloor was packed with grinding couples who could not keep their hands off each other. Your little performance ran out of hand. Maybe you should have stopped after the fifth shot of tequila but you had gotten carried away. At one point Finnick had placed the lemon wedge between your lips and almost kissed you when he took it out of your mouth with his own lips. You had not meant to be glued against each other in the middle of the dance floor but there you were. Finnick leaned down and placed a trail of soft kisses on your jawline. ‘Mh, Finn maybe we should go home. I think you made your point clear and gave them a show.’ A chuckle left his lips and he spun you around in his arms. You weren't sure how much of tonight was staged and what was real but you hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, that’s for sure. He clasped his hands together behind your back and you swung yours around his neck. ‘Do you wanna go?’ You nodded. ‘Okay let’s go then.’ Once again he took one of your hands into his and started guiding you towards the exit before you were stopped by a middle-aged guy. ‘Y/n, do you have one more dance in you for me?’ He had this grin on his face that made you shiver, not in a good way. ‘Sorry mate we’re just leaving.’ Finnick spoke for you as he saw the hesitation in your eyes. ‘Oh come, you had her all night Odair let the others also have some fun.’ He stepped in front of you, shielding you from the guy. ‘I said that we’re going, so back off okay?’ Finnick spoke, his words laced with a threatening undertone. Everyone in his right mind would back off, he was one of the most deathly tributes the capitol had ever seen, crazily skilled in hand-to-hand combat. The other guy eyed him up and down and he then shifted his gaze towards you. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. ‘Finn let’s go.’ You softly pulled Finnick back indicating you wanted to leave as soon as possible. His hand tensed in yours and squeezed your fingers as he turned away from the guy, ready to leave. ‘Whatever dude, everyone already had her.’ Before you could say something, before you could pull him back, Finnick had spun around and his fist made contact with the guy's jaw. He almost stumbled to the floor when he got punched. ‘You fucking asshole.’ Several shocked gasps were audible all around you. No one expected the Capitol's favourite to lose his temper like this, he was known for keeping his composure in public. ‘Finninck!’ You stepped forward and clung to his arm in an attempt to hold him back. The man clutched his jaw in surprise as if he had not seen the blow coming at all. ‘If I ever see you near her again or even hear you talking about her I’ll fucking kill you, understand?’ All he could do was nod, still not getting what just happened. ‘Finnick let’s go.’ You urged as you saw people pooling around the scene you just caused. As he turned around and started walking away he pulled you behind him by your hand. It was because he was drunk otherwise, he would never have thrown that punch you thought to yourself. The alcohol was the only explanation. ‘Guess the rumours are true then, he’s sleeping with her.’ You heard a girl say to her friend when the two of you passed them. 

Once you were finally outside, he let go of your hand and went through his hair in frustration. ‘Fuck.’ he grumbled to himself. What the fuck just happened? You opened your mouth to say something but quickly shut it again when you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Snow was going to make you pay for this, you just knew it. Finnick’s driver drove the car out front and opened the door of the back seat. Finnick got into the car without saying a word and kept silent the whole drive back to his place. When the car stopped in front of his building and he got out, you stayed put expecting that Finnick didn’t want you there at the moment. When you didn’t follow him out he gave you a confused look. ‘Get out of the car y/n, I’m not letting you spend the night alone at your place after what just happened.’ You were still confused but you did as you were told and climbed out of the car. Finnick said a thank you to the driver and started walking towards the entrance of his building. It was one of the most modern places you had ever seen, you needed a keycard to enter the building and a code for the elevator since they went straight into his living room on the top floor. He got everything he wanted because he was so loved by the Capitol, he was their golden boy. 

As the two of you stepped into the elevator he only needed a second to push you up against the wall. A small gasp left your lips at his sudden movements. He didn’t give you any time to react as he crashed his lips against yours, these weren’t the sweet touches he used to give you, this was pure anger. You kissed him back, placing your hands against his chest and parting your lips giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in. Not even trying to gain dominance you let Finnick take the lead, almost melting under his touch. He only stopped kissing you when the elevator opened, ushering you out of the small box into his apartment. It gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath, a heat rose to your cheeks when you realised what just had happened. But those few seconds were all you got because the moment your feet touched the wooden floor he spun you around and his lips found yours once again. The two of you started walking, you backwards as he guided you through his living room. ‘Finn, what are you-’ He didn’t give you the chance to finish your question as your back hit a wall. One of his legs came up between yours, hoisting up your dress as he spread them apart with his thick thigh. ‘I’m done playing his games.’ His lips found their way to your neck where he softly tucked at your skin. A moan left your lips when he found your sweet spot under your jaw. He sucked on the tender skin until it stung to then soothe it with his tongue. That was gonna bruise. ‘I’m done pretending to be ok when I see you with other people and pick you up afterwards. I don’t want the pieces, I want all of you.’ It took every ounce of self-control left in your body to pull away so you could look at him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders. ‘Finnick-,’ This wasn’t new, you had this kind of conversation before but he never said that he wanted you. You longed for him in a whole different than the Capitol did. You didn’t want him for his body, you wanted him for the man he was. He was kind, caring and loyal. He had this great sense of humour and would do anything to save the people he loved. ‘As you said, we cannot do this. Remember?’ He pressed his forehead against yours

He pressed his thigh firmer against your core and your breath hitched in your throat, you were dripping wet. You were already turned on the moment he had you flush against his chest on the dancefloor at the party. He softly bit your neck, making your head spin. ‘Finnick, we’ve been drinking-’ You were going to say that you didn’t know this was the right moment for this situation, heads being clouded by alcohol but he didn’t give you the chance. He pressed his lips full force against yours, not asking for permission as he forced his tongue inside your mouth. This was a mix of pure anger and lust, you had an idea where this came from but you were still not sure if it was because of you or if you were just at the right place at the right time. His hands found their way around your body and rested on your ass, softly squeezing and not giving you any time to second-guess the situation. He softly tucked at your lower lip when he pulled back. ‘You have no idea about all the things that I want to do to you, y/n.’ A small gasp left your lips when you felt his teeth graze your ear as he softly spoke, his voice more sensual than usual. You just gave in. Your body reacted before you could and without thinking you started rocking your hips over his thigh hoping to gain some friction between your legs, almost sure that you were going to stain his pants with your juices. Finnick smirked when he felt your movements and started guiding your hips over his leg while he pushed you down, creating more pressure. ‘C’mon baby, be a good girl and make yourself feel good.’ Your legs started to tremble as you rode his thigh, swinging one arm around his neck and placing the other hand on his hips to stabilize yourself. With a swift movement, he pulled your panties aside and watch how your pussy rubbed against his thigh. A pink blush rose to your cheeks when you saw the wet spot starting to form where your cunt touched his pants. ‘So wet and I haven’t touched you yet.’ He mumbled as he saw your juices on his thigh. ‘All for you Finn.’ His name rolled in a moan of your lips as you were getting to your high. ‘Were you already wet when we were dancing?’ He breathed in your ear, followed by his teeth scraping your neck. You nodded frantically. ‘Use your words.’ ‘Yes, yes. Fuck��� you threw your head back and screwed your eyes shut. ‘So desperate for a good fuck y/n?’ The way he was treading you combined with the sound of his voice made you only wetter. ‘Fuck Finn, I’m going to come just like this.’ A chuckle left his lips. ‘Look at me.’ You were chasing your high and ignored his order. When you didn’t comply he grabbed your chin and pinched lightly with his fingers, forcing your face down. ‘Look at me I said.’ His dominance excited you. ‘Sorry.’ You muttered and looked at him. His pupils were dilated and radiated pure lust. ‘Sorry who?’ ‘Sorry, sir.’ It rolled off your tongue without thinking twice about it.  ‘Come for me’ After hearing those words the knot inside exploded, your orgasm washing over you like you never experienced before. Legs trembling and Finnick needed to support your upper body. This was pure filth and you were all for it. ‘Fuck.’ You tried to stop but Finnick kept pushing your hips in a grinding motion over his thigh. Your clit grazed over the fabric of his pants, it overstimulated you completely. 'Finn, stop too soon,' you muttered when you felt the knot in your lower abdomen tighten again. Tears began to sting your eyes when he didn't stop. ‘Ah, fuck.’ Your second orgasm came faster than you wanted. You pushed against Finnick's chest. 'Finn stop.' Tears streamed down your cheeks from the overstimulation. It was too much. ‘Are you going to let me fuck you like all of Snow's pawns?’ You nodded, that was all he needed. He took you in his arms in one smooth motion and walked toward his bed. 

'On your knees.' You had never obeyed anyone so quickly. He placed his hand gently on your cheek and stroked your lips with his thumb. 'Are you going to be a good girl for me?' Your hands found their way to the button of his pants. In one swift movement, you undid them and pulled them down eagerly. Finnick followed your every move. His boxers quickly followed causing his cock to stand up proudly against his muscular stomach. You licked your lips. ‘You know what to do.’ You nodded. You took his member in your hand and pumped up and down a few times, his head looking painfully red as pre-cum glistened on it. You teased him by rubbing his head slowly with your thumb. Then you bent over, and with your outstretched tongue you licked a long line from his base to the tip. A hissing sound left his lips. ‘Stop teasing’. You pulled your lip over your teeth and took his cock in your mouth. Gently you moved up and down, building the tension. A blissful sigh left his lips.  You relaxed your jaw and took his length as deep as you could in your mouth. His head pushed against the back of your throat eliciting a gag reflex. Finnick grabbed your hair with one of his hands and pushed against the back of your head as a sign to take him even deeper. 

When you looked up through your eyelashes you saw that he had his head thrown back in delight, his mouth gently agape. A sense of pride spread through you. That you could make Finnick feel so good did something to you; it got even wetter between your legs. ‘Fuck y/n, keep going.’ He wrapped his hands around your neck and squeezed gently. He pushed his hips forward and began to fuck your mouth. Obscene sounds echoed in his bedroom. Your gurgling filled your ears and tears pricked your eyes. 'You look so good like that.' Your mascara by now had to hang everywhere as tears ran down your cheeks in thick drops, saliva running from your mouth. 'Almost there.' he growled between his teeth. He didn't want to admit it but seeing you sitting there made him even hornier and harder. 

You didn't like to admit it but being degraded like that turned you on. You were super horny and couldn't stop your own hand. You slipped your hand into your panties and moved like crazy over your clit. You couldn't wait to bounce on his cock. A moan left your lips, the vibrations drove Finnick crazy and he began to pound even harder into your mouth. After he moaned your name, he squirted thick ropes of cum down your throat and mouth. With a plopping sound, you pulled your mouth off his cock and swallowed his cum obediently. 'Good girl. Now I know why they all want you.’ You had never been so submissive and it turned you on.  ‘Please fuck me.’ It was pathetic, you were begging him to feel his cock inside you. You were still rubbing your clit and he noticed. ‘So desperate for my cock, aren't you?’. You nodded, knowing he was going to give you what you wanted: a good, rough fuck. He pulled you up and pushed you on his back. Your back hit the soft matras. ‘You're never going to want another cock again’ said Finnick with an arrogant grin on his face. ‘Stop teasing, just fuck me Finn.’ The message was clear. He took your leg and pushed it up so that it rested against his shoulder. Without warning, he pushed his cock into you all at once. ‘Fuck.’ You hissed as you clawed at his shoulders, trying to contain the overstimulation. ‘I want to be the only one who can give you this feeling.' He pounded into you at a gruelling pace. It hurt, but it was a pleasurable pain. A moan rolled over your lips. ‘They’ll never touch you again.’ he murmured hoarsely in your ear. You felt the knot in your lower abdomen begin to tighten again. Your walls pinched his cock; he was also near his climax again. ‘Say it.’ Your breath stuck in your throat. 'Fuck, Finn you can only t-' You couldn't hold it back anymore, your orgasm taking over your whole body. Your legs trembled a blissful feeling spread throughout your body ‘-touch me'. He growled approvingly. He lowered your leg but continued to thrust for his own orgasm. He found your neck and began sucking around your pulse point. He left marks, you just knew it.

He moaned your name and came inside you. He leaned his forehead against yours as he caught his breath. 'We'll figure this out.’

[muddy-water-1997]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗

𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗. 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍! 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚘 𝚒 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝.

𝙸𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢- 𝙹𝚈𝙿 𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎.

𝚃𝚆: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢) 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.3𝚔 3𝚁𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙰 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ~ 𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 ~ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘 ~ 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎

The door slammed behind you, reverberating through the corridor as you executed a sharp 180-degree turn, your footsteps echoing with a mix of fury and determination. You headed straight for the studio, your mind a whirlwind of anger and betrayal.

Who were you even mad at the most? Your dad, who shipped you off to Korea with the promise of a paycheck in his pocket? Your uncle, the puppet master, pulling the strings and enabling the whole charade? Chris—or Bang Chan—who probably knew about the entire scheme and played his part perfectly, making Friday night feel like a cruel setup? Or yourself, for letting your guard down and actually beginning to enjoy the work, only to be hit with this bitter revelation?

Your thoughts churned as you navigated the hallways, each step fueled by the searing anger that coursed through you. It felt as if everyone had conspired against you, turning what was supposed to be an opportunity for growth and passion into a twisted game of manipulation.

Bursting into the studio, you found solace in the familiar surroundings of the equipment. The blinking lights and myriad controls were a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind, offering a semblance of stability. You took a deep breath, trying to channel your rage into something productive. You were grateful that the studio was empty, if 3RACHA had any sense, they wouldn’t even show their faces today.

Plugging your USB back into the computer, you shoved on the headphones and started messing around with a few tracks you had thrown together, trying to figure out your next move. Each beat, each note, was an attempt to drown out the chaos swirling in your head. The studio equipment felt like the only thing keeping you sane right now.

Going home wasn’t an option. Facing your dad, knowing he had sent you here for a paycheck, felt more like a punishment than a reward. Australia was out of the question, too. You couldn't face explaining this hideous plot your uncle had concocted to your friends. They wouldn’t understand, and you couldn’t bear the pity or the inevitable questions.

Retreating to your apartment was equally unappealing. Your uncle knew precisely where you lived, and you couldn't risk another confrontation. The studio felt safer, a haven where you could lock yourself away with your music and the state-of-the-art equipment, focusing on something more tolerable than the tangled mess of your reality. That was, until a hand tapped you on the shoulder. 

“Hey… Y/N?” It was Changbin, with Han standing closely behind him. To your relief, Chris was nowhere in sight.

“Oh…” you muttered, pulling off your headphones. “Hey. You guys alright?” They both looked withdrawn and tired, as if they hadn’t slept all weekend.

“Oh? Us? We’re fine.” Han’s fake smile almost looked real—idols and their media training.

“Okay?” you questioned tentatively. “Is there something I can help you with, or?” You didn’t want to be rude to them; they hadn’t done anything wrong other than choosing their career.

“Ah, um, yeah actually,” Changbin started, almost as if he had forgotten why they had come in the first place. “Look, we’ve hardly slept this weekend. Chris feels awful.” You rolled your eyes at the mere mention of his name. “We heard about what happened. It's just, not even a text back? That’s a bit cold, even for you, Y/N.”

You had to hold back a laugh. Cold? You? What’s cold is fucking a girl to get whatever your uncle had promised him. What could be worth making someone fall for you for the rest of your life?

“Me?” You overly flamboyantly waved your arms at yourself. “I’m the cold one?” you spat. “After what Chris did to me? No. I’m reacting appropriately.” You scoffed. It’s true; you had been ignoring his texts, and it’s a good thing you had after hearing what your uncle said. Never trust an idol.

Han and Changbin exchanged glances, their concern evident despite your outburst. Changbin took a step closer, his tone softer. “Y/N, we get that you’re angry, but Chris—Bang Chan—he genuinely didn’t know about whatever your uncle’s plan is. He’s been beside himself all weekend trying to figure out how to make things right.”

“So he did know.” You stated, your gaze flicking between Han and Changbin for confirmation.

“It’s not our place to ask this, Y/N, really,” Han began, his eyes almost pleading, “but is there any chance you could just come over? Talk to him? He needs to get out of his head.” His earnestness made you feel a pang of guilt. Despite your anger, Han and Changbin had been the most tolerable people you’d met since arriving.

“If I speak to him, I’m going to need something in return,” you offered, sensing this might be your chance to get what you truly wanted: a way out of Korea and back home.

“Anything…” Changbin retorted without hesitation.

Walking into the dorm, you found Chris sitting on the sofa. The room looked different; it wasn’t filled with people and loud music. It was quiet, the energy softer than it was before. 

“Chris.” You said, your tone sharp. His head flew round to meet yours. You noticed his tired eyes, the untamed curls in his hair, and the paleness of his skin. If it wasn’t for the fact you knew that he knew how to act, you might even feel guilty.

“Y/N.” He replied, his tone just as sharp but more tired, lethargic. He wasn’t looking for a fight.

“I’m here.” You announced the obvious. “Talk,” you demanded, crossing your arms.

Chris took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know about your uncle’s plan until after… after Friday night. I swear. When I found out, I was furious. This whole thing was supposed to be about your talent, not some twisted matchmaking scheme.”

You stared at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because I care about you, Y/N,” he said, eyes locking onto yours. “What happened between us wasn’t because of your uncle. It was real, at least for me. And I’m sorry if I hurt you. That was never my intention.”

You wanted to stay angry, to keep the walls up, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. Could he be telling the truth?

“You care?” You raised an eyebrow. Was this Chris, the producer you met in the club on your first night, or Bang Chan, the idol trying to get a paycheck?

“Yes, I care!” He sounded hurt. “Of course, I care. I remember what it was like walking into JYP for the first time, trying to make my way from the ground up. I wanted to make your ride smoother than mine. I don’t care who your uncle is; you have talent. That shouldn’t be wasted.”

A silence settled between you, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. You searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit, but all you found was a raw honesty that made your resolve waver.

“Maybe I overreacted,” you admitted quietly, glancing down at your hands. “This whole situation just threw me off balance. I never expected to be caught in the middle of something like this.”

Chris stepped closer, his presence comforting yet intimidating. “I get it. I really do. But I want you to know that my intentions were always genuine. I saw something special in you, Y/N, and I still do. Your talent is undeniable.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s hard to trust anyone right now. Everything feels so… manipulated.”

“I understand,” Chris said softly. “But I’m willing to prove myself to you. I’m not just a producer or an idol. I’m someone who believes in you, someone who wants to see you succeed.”

His earnestness was disarming, and despite your reservations, a part of you wanted to believe him. “Alright,” you said slowly. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust.”

“I’m not asking for anything more,” Chris replied, relief evident in his voice. “Just a chance to make things right.”

You nodded, feeling a small spark of hope igniting within you. “Okay. Let’s see where this goes.”

Staying on for the internship turned out to be the best decision you had made. Did you still despise idols? Absolutely. But you found solace in the company of 3RACHA. They didn’t ask about your uncle, and they didn’t invite you to idol events. Instead, you spent evenings in the studio with takeout food, creating the most ridiculous tracks for fun. The three of them would spit out the silliest verses while you spun tracks that didn’t fit the vibe in the slightest. You ended up with a mini-album of goofy songs to take home as memories. You were making music for the sake of making music.

As for your uncle, you confronted him about the conversation with your dad. The look on his face was picture-worthy. He stammered out explanations mixed with the slightest hint of apology. Although, he wasn’t sorry. You didn’t care anymore. You came to Korea to do what you wanted: make music and have fun.

And sure, you had fun in more ways than one. Mia and Kat weren’t the only ones having a hot girl summer. You and Chris had become close in more ways than one; luckily, the cold bathroom tiles were a thing of the past, opting for the bed… and the couch… and the kitchen… and the studio, to name a few. It was nice to fool around and enjoy your last summer of freedom.

Han and Changbin hooked you up with some amazing kit to take home and even more valuable contacts to get you into the production scene once the internship was over. So, when they broached the idea of a farewell party, you weren't as reluctant as they expected you to be.

“It would just be something low-key…” Han explained, and you rolled your eyes as you lay on the studio couch with your legs draped over Chris’ thighs.

“I’ve heard that before.” You chuckled. “If Seungmin is involved, I better pregame harder than last time.” You joked.

“Y/N has a point…” Changbin spoke up. “Maybe we just go out to dinner?” He suggested.

“And be surrounded by security all night? No, thanks.” Chris argued back.

“It’s fine, I’ll go!” You laughed. “I’ve learned how to blend into the idol lifestyle.” You joked, pushing your cap over your eyes, imitating how they all looked when they went undercover.

Chris chuckled, gently tugging the cap off your face. “You look ridiculous,” he said, smiling down at you.

“Hey, it’s called fitting in,” you retorted playfully.

Han clapped his hands together. “So it’s settled. A low-key party it is. No crazy idol stuff, just us.”

You should have made a bet. Rocking up to the party was just as crazy as last time. Seungmin must have put out more invites than usual because the dorm building was bustling with people. You walked through the door, more confident than the first time you entered a few months back.

The moment you stepped inside, you were met by the cheers of 3RACHA in the middle of the room, their excitement evident. Other people in the room didn’t even bat an eyelash, already accustomed to the trio’s exuberant greetings.

“Y/N! You made it!” Han shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the sight of your friends. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied, making your way over to them.

Changbin handed you a drink, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We thought you might bail on us,” he teased.

“Not a chance,” you said, taking a sip and savouring the familiar burn. “This is my last hurrah, after all.”

Chris smiled, pulling you into a quick hug. “We’re glad you’re here,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear.

The party was in full swing, a mix of loud music and laughter filling the space. You navigated through the crowd, greeting familiar faces and meeting new ones. Despite the chaos, there was a sense of camaraderie that made you feel right at home.

As the night went on, you found yourself drifting back to 3RACHA. They were in their element, joking around and creating an infectious energy that had everyone around them in stitches.

Seungmin appeared beside you, a sly grin on his face. “Having fun?” he asked, nudging you playfully.

“More than I expected,” you admitted, grinning back.

“Good. You deserve it,” he said, his tone sincere. “We’re going to miss you, Y/N.”

“I’ll miss you guys too,” you replied, feeling a pang of sadness. “But I’ll be back. You can count on it.”

Later, as the party began to wind down, you found a quiet spot on the balcony. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the heat inside. Chris joined you, leaning against the railing.

“Crazy night, huh?” he said, glancing over at you.

“You could say that,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “But it was perfect.”

He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m really proud of you, Y/N. You’ve come a long way.”

“Thanks, Chris,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “That means a lot coming from you.”

He took a deep breath, his expression serious. “I meant what I said before. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You reached out, squeezing his hand. “I know. And I’ll always be grateful for that.”

Just for a moment, you basked in the silence and moved closer to him as he slung an arm over you, watching the night sky.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?” He said, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world.

“Yeah,” You agreed, meeting his eyes. “The moon really is beautiful.”

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌! 

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

𝖳𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌

@bandolls @resi4skz @n1nme4r @seoyeonleexoxo @mellhwang @palindrome969 @jisunglyricist

[creepling]

begging you with everything in me that you do another brother!johnny fic-🪓

cotton white - stepbro!j. slaughter / <1k

i don't wanna leave you hanging anon, so i cooked this up and hope it meets your seedy needs!! for these type of fics i make them stepcest for johnny, just bc it's canon that nancy stole that mf so i make reader in the same predicament. but these pervs don't know that...

tags. smut - mdni. stepcest. fem!reader. giving farmer girl vibes. mention of marriage/old traditions. semi-plot. fucked dumb. johnny being perverted. dirty talk. climax on face.

Johnny liked returning after long trips, hiking from the parked truck and heading for the haven. You are the reason he calls this place home. His pretty sister hangs damp clothes on a line, the sun revealing more for his eyes under your thin cotton dress. The loveliest flower among mother’s flowerbeds, your smile bright and innocent at his arrival. Johnny approaches you, resting his hand on the dip of your waist, planting a prolonged kiss on your crown.

“I missed ya, darlin’,” He whispered, his eyes dangerously suggestive.

You chuckle nervously, side-eyeing the window. “Momma might be looking,”

Throughout the years, there were many chances Nancy caught on to the prohibited relationship between the two of you. If she has, she has decided to keep silent about it.

Johnny only chuckled, leaning back and admiring you, until he slacked off and hooped his thumbs into his belt hoops. “Wanna meet me tonight?”

You were never allowed over in Johnny’s shack under Nancy’s eye, hence why it consisted of you sneaking out of your room at night. You were the prized jewel, under the protection of the home, blossoming to someday be married off – learn the trade of your mother. The separation from Johnny only tempted him further, and his promise of pleasure and experience was too blinding to ignore.

You simply nodded, picking up the empty wicker basket to return it inside, bidding farewell to your brother with an abrasion of the shoulder. His eyes were on you until you vanished inside.

Your bare feet paddle through the cold grass and retreat to Johnny’s shack door, sneaking through the ajar door that creaked lowly. Johnny waited patiently on his busted couch, a drunken beer bottle on the coffee table, his smirk enlarging at the sight of you. Fresh from bathing, your white dress draped temporarily from your short trip, your flimsy bra strap hanging from your shoulder. Johnny rose and approached you, pressing your body against his with a swift grip on your waist, peering down. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek, stirred by your soft features. He spoke with his movements, pressing his rough lips against yours, engulfing your smooth mouth and kissing it plump. As his lips move to your neck, you sigh in pleasure.

“You’re immaculate, as always,” he chimed, “Betcha miss me, ay sis?”

You nod through the pleasure, the cold air smacking your back legs as he hikes up your dress, gripping your ass, fingers tickling your soft white knickers. Your feet press into the rough hardwood, reaching the height to wrap your arms around him, giving in to the sinful lust. It wasn’t wrong. It was never wrong. It didn’t feel bad.

Johnny ruts your pristine body harder into the couch, your arms pinning your breasts to stabilise their uncontrollable bouncing. Your moans muffled with pursed lips, afraid of making too much noise, mesmerised by your older brother drilling his cock into your tight pussy. It was intoxicating, like all the other times, giving yourself willingly to him. Your skin toughening from his grip that never loosened, a harsh smack to your ass now and then to remind you who you belong to. Bouncing against his cock like your life depended on it, never feeling full enough of him. You let him manhandle you, puppeteer your body in a desired position, drunk on his toned body pressing against you, engulfing your frame.

Johnny lets you grind down on his cock, eyes locked on your body and amused by how desperate you are. His hands guided you, forcing you to take his full length, drawing circles into your puffy clit to chuckle at your mewls.

“So desperate f’ me,” he breathed out, “‘Missed this tight little pussy.”

He took back complete control, pinning your body under him, burying his dick deep inside you, his face on your neck and inhaling your familiar scent. You whined and choked under the pressure but still succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure soaring through you. A feeling only your brother could ignite in you.

His dirty talk echoed in your mind as he pressed his lips to your ear, reserving his words only for you. “Such a good ‘lil sis, letting your big bro fuck you whenever he wants. No man ever gonna make you feel this good, ya hear me? Only me - only fucking me - yeeah, that’s right.”

Your mind fogged from his fast pace, dumbly nodding to his words, unable to consider their extent. You can only drown in his eyes, your cunt slick and fucked raw. Willing your puppy dog eyes as Johnny cums all over your face, easing at the grunts of his release, your face presumptuous as you taste him on your lulling tongue.

“That’s it, princess,” he chuckles, “Take it all.”

Perverted to the state of your face, Johnny prolonged his stare, wishing it was only inside you, dripping from that slick cunt he couldn’t get enough of.

[prettysunnyday]

Hanahaki Disease: Wasted Love Part 1

Helen Otis x Reader

Warning: Fluff, sad, angst, cheating, fighting, mentions of violence, torture, death

Please enjoy...

🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀💙❤💙🥀

A quiet wind blew through the meadow that you currently laid in. Small violets and sweet bee balm grew thick on the ground. You had been sprawled out in the sun, reading a good book that caught your eye a week ago and had finally gotten ahold of. The warm day had made you feel drowsy and after a few hours of devouring the book, sleep took over your dreary senses. In no time you had closed your eyes and fallen asleep.

Your dreams were peaceful for a time until you heard distant shouting. Your dream self began running but you weren't scared. You were nearing a cliff as a voice behind you called your name. The voice sounded loud and impatient. It echoed all around you as your body began to shake. Right before you could see over the cliff's edge, your eyes opened.

Late afternoon sun greeted your (e/c) eyes. You gently rubbed your eyes and yawned. As you sat up, your book flopped onto the ground.

"Shoot!" You muttered. Now you'd have to scour the pages to find where you stopped.

"You snore you know."

You snapped your head towards the voice. A blond boy in a green graphic tee and sweat pants knelt next to you with a smirk on his narrow face. His red eyes dripped blood as he snickered in amusement.

You scowled, "No, Ben. I wouldn't know if I snored because I'm asleep."

Ben shrugged, "Yeah and you sleep heavy. It took sooo much effort to wake you up!" He exaggerated with a sigh.

You swatted his arm as you stood.

"Hey!!" He whined.

"Deserve it." You smiled to yourself as you heard Ben scramble after you. You had collected your book and headed for the mansion. "Anyway, where is your Zelda costume? I didn't know you wore other things."

Ben scoffed, "It is not a costume! It is a masterpiece. Besides, I wear other clothes, I just have preferences. Today I wanted sweats." He patted his legs to make his point.

You laughed lightly. Ben always got you giggling at something and his current antics were no exception. He noticed this and stuck his tongue out at you. You gasped in mock offense before laughing harder.

Soon the mansion came in view. You stared at the melancholy building that you dubbed home years ago. Despite it housing serial killers, you loved every inch. As you ascended the steps you turned back to Ben.

"Why did you wake me up?"

Ben smirked again. "Your manly love is coming home tonight from his mission." He said in a mock baby voice.

You ignored his incessant teasing as your thought began to spiral. Finally! After two long and seemingly endless months, Helen, your Helen, was coming home. You missed your boyfriend dearly and thought he was going to be gone a week. But that turned to two, which was three, then six and ten. You had watched the clock and counted down the days for his arrival.

"When is he coming home, Ben?" You asked.

"Tonight, doll. Helen and Puppeteer should be here and Slendy has an announcement." Ben rolled his eyes at your lack of a reaction.

You beamed at Ben as you nudged him inside. Once in doors Ben headed for the living room. You waved him bye before making it upstairs. Your room was your safe haven and decorated to your style. Beside your bed sat a photograph of you and Helen in a tree. It was taken when you first started dating. You had been looking for Helen after receiving a note to go and find him. Eventually you discovered him in the tree, sketching the mansion. You climbed up to him and he had kissed you lovingly. The picture was taken unknowingly by Ben, who gifted it to you on your birthday. Now it sat in a wooden frame painted red and blue by Helen. It was a beautiful memory and a keepsake present for you to admire.

"Soon you'll be home." You whispered.

You and Helen had met when you first became a creepypasta. He was a shy boy who loved to paint in his room. Of course the observing boy caught your attention. His beautiful eyes stared right back at yours with a hard gaze. They never left you, even after you turned away from him. His blue eyes bore into the back of your head. After several more encounters of you making light conversation and Helen listening to your every word, he finally asked you out.

It took a very long time (six months) for Helen to have mostly opened up to you. Once he adjusted to your presence he began talking. With that milestone under wraps, you realized that quiet Helen had more to say than he lead on. Not only did he talk to you in a gentle and sarcastic manner, Helen had a large vocabulary. Soon his words drew you in more than his looks and attitude. Eventually, neither of you could deny it. You were both smitten with each other, and the affection was still growing.

Now it has been three years of you being together. Well, almost because your three year anniversary was coming up in a month. This excited you beyond belief and you felt light as air when Ben told you Helen would be home soon.

You paced your room in buzzing anticipation. You still had at least a few more hours to wait, so in the meantime you decided to bathe and put on fresh smelling clothes. As warm water filled the tub, you poured lavender Epsom salts in for them to dissolve. Quickly stripping, you eagerly stepped into the soothing water. A sigh of content left your lips and quelled your excitement some. You washed your body with your favorite soaps and slowly rinsed it off. It didn't matter that it was a rather warm day, the water felt luxurious on your skin.

After a while of soaking the water was nearly cold. So you peeled yourself out of the tub and dried off with a soft towel. The fresh clothes you brought was a pair of sleep shorts and a baggy shirt with small orange flowers printed on the cotton fabric. When your hair was dry and brushed you left the bathroom to lounge on your bed.

Your intention was to look at your book and find your unmarked page then head down stairs to eat. One of those things would never happen as you ran to the bed and practically threw your body at a masked boy, who was sprawled on your bed. Despite being dressed in his signature outfit, your boyfriend looked clean of blood and grime. In fact he looked immaculate in your eyes.

"Your back Helen!" You squealed.

You landed on the boy's relaxing form. He still wore his mask, which he strated to remove, before being pummeled back into the bed. Helen wrapped his arms around your waist as you buried your face in his chest.

"I've really missed you." You snuggled as close as your body could get. Helen's chest rumbled with enthusiasm as he let out a small laugh. He ran his long, slender fingers through your hair and gently rubbed your shoulders.

"So have I, Y/N." Helen's smooth voice, which held a faint French accent, calmed your nerves. The knot of emotions tied tightly in your stomach gradually unraveled. You felt your muscles relax against Helen, who hugged you close.

"Two months is to long, Helen."

Helen petted your head, "I am here now, Y/N. No need to fret."

You laid there for what felt like a few minutes, but was actually an hour. Helen told you of what happened in those two months. He and Pup were stalking a rich guy who had valuable information Slenderman needed. They followed him through five different States and eventually cornered him in New York where they tortured information out of him. As Helen spoke, you hummed along matching your breathing to his. It looked like you could fall asleep, and maybe you would. But you were currently invested in his story and periodically asking if he had gotten hurt and if he was ok. Helen caressed your back as he nodded yes and patiently answered your many questions. Eventually your peace was broken by none other than a pleading call from your stomach.

"Helen, I'm hungary." You complained as you raised your head to look at him.

"I heard loud and clear." Helen smirked.

"Oh!" You flicked his arm as your face reddened faintly. This caused Helen to laugh and you shook your head.

"I love you, Y/N." Helen whispered.

You beamed, "I love you, too."

Helen hugged you tightly but you pulled away after a second. Helen tilted his head in confusion. You reached up and pulled his mask away.

"That is much better." You breathed through your teeth.

"Agreed." Helen cupped your face and leaned in to kiss you softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Helen grinned. He broke away to kiss your cheek and down to your jaw. He brushed his lips on your neck before sucking on it with a sweet tenderness that made your stomach flutter. After a successful hickey bruised your skin, he licked the spot and blew on it. You shivered and felt a sudden wave of nervousness. Helen smiled at how flustered he made you before kissing your lips softly. The kiss, though chaste and short, left you breathless.

Helen leaned back to admire your face. Your heart was beating fast as you waited in anticipation. Then out of nowhere a strange gurgling noise met you ears. Instead, Helen blushed.

"Come my lovely." Helen said after a moment. He began to sit up and you followed him. "We are both evidently famished and I heard we have a meeting tonight or something."

You grasped his hand and you both left the room. You still felt light as a feather as you walked beside Helen's poised figure. His tall, lanky frame and long blue coat hid his built form and gave him a rugged and boyish appearance. Helen was stronger than he appeared and more graceful then expected.

You smiled as you descended the broad staircase and went into the kitchen. Slenderman greeted you kindly and you saw Puppeteer lounging in a chair talking to, or at least trying to, Hobo Heart. The poor guy looked ready to cry. You chuckled to yourself as you sat at the counter. Slender gave both of you a plate of fettuccini, to which you thanked him and started eating.

You weren't half way done when someone called your name. You turned to see Jane making her way over to you. She was dressed in a lovely black beaded dress and matching heels. Satin gloves without finger tips ran up to her elbows. Her luscious ebony hair graced her shoulders. Perfectly round pearls hung from her ears that matched her white skin.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she sat down beside you. Slender gave her a plate and she started eating. "So guess what Y/N." She said, irritable.

"What?" You were mildly intrigued. Jane was a good friend, but all your brain could process was how enjoyable it was to be on cloud 9.

Jane smiled sarcastically, "We have a newcomer."

You thought a moment. "That is the announcement." You said this as a statement more than a question but Jane replied anyway.

"Her name is Olive. She is a real beauty but don't underestimate her." Jane spoke with near venom as she glanced at you.

"I assume you know her?" You asked hesitantly. "What did she do?"

Jane sighed before turning to face you, "Yes, I know Olive. We were friends for a while but nevermind what happened. You are a good friend of mine and I don't want you getting to close to her. There is more to Olive than you think." While saying this, Jane looked you dead in the eyes. "Promise you won't interact with her more than necessary."

You were taken aback by Jane's attitude, but nodded. Jane sighed again before leaving. You watched her leave in surprise at her abrupt visit and departure. She hadn't even finished her food. "What a waste..." You thought before turning to speak to Helen, only to discover him gone. You shrugged and scanned the room for his piercing eyes. Upon not seeing him, you ventured into the living room.

You sat next to Ben, who was playing Mario Cart, but paused when he saw you sit beside him. He swung his feet onto your lap. At first you didn't notice because you were thinking about where Helen had gone. Ben then wrapped his legs around your waist and pulled you close. This brought your focus back. Looking down, you growled.

"Let go Ben." You glared at his smug face

"Hmm..." Ben tapped his chin. "Nah!"

Rolling your eyes you shoved his legs off, only for him to slap them back on your lap. "Ben!!" You groaned.

"Y/N!!" He mocked you.

"SLENDY!!!"

"Stop your crap Ben." Masky said as he walked through the doorway.

Ben grunted and removed his feet. You smile victoriously just for Ben to stick his tongue out at you. Masky flicked Ben's head as he sat in the rickety rocker by the t.v. Hoodie also came in and sat on the couch. He had a bowel of fettuccini in one hand and a bloody hatchet in the other.

"Why do you have Toby's hatchet?" You asked absentmindedly.

Hoodie shook his head, "Not Toby's, it is for the newcomer."

You thought about what Jane had said. She wants you to stay away from her as much as possible. You figured you would since it made her so upset, which was unlike her. The new girl was going to have a hatchet as a murder weapon. You vaguely wondered about it as you thought of Helen. He disappeared without a word, which was normal, but he just got back from a long mission. Maybe Slendy called him or he was taking a shower.

You were getting ready to go find him when Slenderman came down the stairs. Jeff was behind him with Sally on his hip. EJ took up the rear before he, Jeff, and Sally came to sit with us. Slender pulled back the curtains and looked out the window. The room was silent, even Ben stopped his game to wait for Slender to speak. Soon he unlocked the door and it swung open.

"She is here."

🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀💙🥀

Note: I will have part 2 posted soon. I apologize for any spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only part 1 and I promise it will get more angst as the story progresses.

Thanks for reading💐

[franki-lew-yo]

An alt-universe's version of The Owl House's final season

"Thanks to Them" - Luz, Amity, Willow, Gus, Hunter and the Palismans get stuck in the human realm after King's heroic sacrifice. Luz properly meets Vee and reconciles with her mother.

"HalfWay House Noceda" - The Demon Realm kids attempt to make themselves 'useful' to Luz and Camilla by doing chores around the house even though their magic/skills are a bit more of a detriment. Meanwhile Luz shows Camilla some videos she took of Eda to prepare her for meeting the Owllady and King and Camilla is unnerved but also thrilled.

"Abduction of the Innocents" - Vee and Hunter have a heart to heart while everyone else pretends to like Camilla's and Luz’s favorite movies, except of course for Gus, who is inspired by the images on screen to really explore his illusion powers for Camilla. 

"Next to Nowhere" - Luz begins school again and ruminates over accidentally helping Philip, but her friend's determination help's her to keep going. Also Amity and Luz bond over Azura with Amity being able to tell Luz that she doesn’t like the Azura movies. 

"Kids of Gravesfield" - The other Palisman have been noticing Flapjack pacing around and both hiding something from the kids while also looking for someone. Luz and Hunter investigate a certain feeling they have around town while the rest of the gang heads to the Gravesfield Historical Society to get answers. Unbeknownst to everyone, Belos is amassing power and does something to Jacob Hopkins. 

"Season's Feedings" - On Halloween Night the kids learn the story of brothers’ Wittebane. Through this Luz regains some of her glyph magic by finding the portal Evelyn and Caleb originally used. Hunter gets possessed by Belos who kills Flapjack, but Hunter gets unpossessed. With just enough Titanblood to take them to the Demon Realm, Camilla joins the kids after Belos while Vee stays home to cover for them being missing.

"For the Future" - A look as to what our Demon Realm friends have been doing all this time; King keeps the Collector entertained, Lilith and Eda try and reach the immobilized citizens, and Hexside becomes a safe haven for the unconverted kids of the Boiling Isles. 

"Outside, Over Here" - The Collector, King and the Clawthorne sisters begin actually knowing Collector and bonding over his past - but things get interrupted by the Owl Beast and further interrupted by Lilith being puppet-ized for 'bad behavior'. Or, is it? Lilith, Hooty and the Owl Beast begin their own psyche-plotting within their inner mind and find a way to communicate with Eda and King despite still being puppets.

"Revenge of the Bad Girl Coven" - Just as it looks like Matholomule is coming into his own, Boscha decides she's taking over the remains of Hexside after her Grugby Team are turned into Puppets and two new students appear on campus.

"Watching and Dreaming" - Luz, Camilla and the crew return to the Boiling Isles and discover what's left of the Owl House and Hexside. They aren't alone, however, as Belos has also returned. 

"After All" - Amidst Boscha's reign of terror, Luz heads to the basement to recount her memories of Philip's shortcut to the head of the titan. The kids ultimately thwart Kikimora's takeover with the help of the Bat Queen though not before Willow finally looses her cool. Luz on the other hand finally meets her palisman, Stringbean. 

"The Brothers Wittebane" - Flashback episode that shows the complicated life of farmhand-turned Witch-husband Caleb Clawthorne and the brother he didn't mean to leave behind."

"Collector Says" - In an attempt to get more information on the archivists and what happened to the Titans, King and the Collector travel once again to the Titan Trappers, who listen to whatever the Collector says. Luz and Stringbean get separated from Camilla.

"How it shouldn't have Ended" - Luz, King and Eda all get reunited in an unconventional way while befriending Collector, while Belos makes a break for the Heart of the Titan to amas his final body.

"Inbetweens" - Belos' uses various hosts to get to the Titan's body which he takes over and starts destroying the Boiling Isles in his wake, but also leaving behind the now-mobilized hosts (Covenheads, Raine, harpy-Lilith) who each help Eda, Luz, King and Collector get to Belos from the inside out. Luz jumps in the way of the Collector being killed and appears to die herself, setting off Eda and King.

"Now Eat this SUCKAAH" - The puppet-ized kids regain their consciousness and begin fighting back and freeing the others under the Collector's spell. Luz wakes up in the in between realm and is helped out by King's dad in finding a way to get out and defeat Belos using the magic of the Titan. In the end Belos melts in the boiling rain and the Collector thanks everyone and goes to confront his family.

"Gone Bygones" - Peek into a bright, Belos-less future for all the characters.

Upside of this alt reality = proper Gus and Willow development, resolution to the Batqueen, actually seeing Caleb and Evelyn andbeebybaby Belos, an answer as to who really made the original portal door, more Stringbean, Lilith having her moment of bonding/actualization with the Owl Beast, resolution on the Titan Trappers, and just a final season overall to really close out the series and send off the characters we all love.

Downside to this alt reality = because Disney's no longer funding it the animation had to be finished by Dingo Pictures and all the voice acting is done by Chris Pratt. Also a nuke went off and we're in the middle of WWIII officially.

[gaylordscooter]

Log of the Multiverse: Cross and XChara

Cross and XChara (usually referred to as just "Chara") both hail from Xtale, an au that's fallen into ruin ever since the creator, XGaster, was contained.

I was shocked to find out that the creator was one of the characters in their universe, but Ink told me he was a false creator, as he was merely a puppet to the true creator that lies beyond our realm and comprehension. It's like how a meta character in a piece of fiction can be written to act "aware", but it's still being written by somebody. Ain't that weird?

Don't think about that for too long.

So Xtale was kinda an empty void after XGaster was taken care of—that's the fault of Cross who killed like, all of his friends (but xpapyrus was the one who killed basically everyone else. GEEZ i couldn't imagine my brother killing a fly! hurting a fly definitely. but killing?? yeesh) and then absorbed xfrisk's soul because he thought he'd be able to OVERWRITE (<- a mechanic their world has where you can basically do whatever the hell you want, or something) his world turned out he couldn't do that sooo.

yeah he was NOT happy about losing his world (and somewhat playing a part in its downfall)

and also xchara's linked to frisk's soul for some reason. so he kinda just had xchara haunting him for awhile.

Luckily! Ink, Dream and I were able to help Cross cope through his loss!

It took so much time. like so much.

He eventually came to accept his world would never come back, but he got an idea. Since his universe couldn't be repaired to what it was before, why not create something new? Of course he couldn't create new people but after learning there were more people that have lost their homes like him (and me) he thought: why not make this place a safe haven for people like him?

Ink encouraged him. He was Very enthusiastic about it actually, he even helped with decorating the place (as in he painted every building. and all the scenery).

Of course, Cross isn't like Dream and Ink, who can sense negativity or when someone's world is destroyed, so those two tend to give him a heads up on where to go (or they just drop people off themselves)

At first we've just been calling it "Xtale" but obviously the place has changed drastically so we decided to call it something else.

unfortunately somehow all of us (even the ARTIST) weren't able to come up with that creative of a name and settled for calling it "the hub"

Now, I didn't forget about XChara, they were getting tired of having to haunt Cross all the time, so I decided to take up a little project.

And by me, I mean I asked Alphys (from a post-pacifist undertale au, we're buddies. yes i'm allowed to be friends with her because they're no longer following the game's script) to help me make a robot body. i made a prototype that ended up being completely non-functional. so alphys kindly made a complete one that WAS functional for me. even though i insisted she didn't need to do that but she said she enjoyed doing it and that i would've popped blood vessels i didn't have if i kept trying to make one (she's right. i was never that big of an engineer)

so the hard part was separating cross and chara. except it WASNT because their souls are WEIRD and i literally just wrenched their pieces apart like lego pieces it was crazy. unfortunately they still only have half of each of their souls. but hey, they can live just fine like that! they're just not as strong as they would be.

well, mainly in cross's case. chara has a cool robot body now that's loaded with defense.

So anyway, yeah! That's about it.

Pretty happy outcome for these guys, despite all the hardships of course.

But I heard from Ink, in this other multiverse this thing called the "X-Event" occurs. It sounded pretty rough from what I remember. But fortunately our Ink isn't like the one in that multiverse! He's too much of a softy

[nerves-nebula]

Talk about the Groe Hole

ok well dont call it THAT fasjfmsdfsdf

so yknow how in some stories the heroes find out that the Big Bad villain they're tryna defeat isnt actually A Guy but is instead a spirit or a force of nature or something puppeteering a guy/vessel? And sometimes they gotta banish the spirit itself and the Guy/Vessel survives after that? Groe was the vessel.

It got brought back to life by a, uhmmm, like a cult? it was brought back using one of its seeds, which are very magically potent and which they had to go to great lengths to acquire. What the cult needed was a body/vessel for their god, and the seed sprouted Groe a new body. I mean, it's HIS seed, right? So Groe is back and spends like 70% of his time being possessed by a hugely powerful spirit god thing. When he wasn't busy being possessed, he was being imprisoned and tortured/abused so that he couldn't escape. there was basically nothing he could do about this until some adventurers or heroes or whatever finally took down the cult and freed him. They did that kind of on accident, cuz they thought that Groe was just an empty vessel and weren't sure what to do with it once they realized it was like.. an actual person.

at which point Groe nearly immediately tripped and fell into another cult. but like, a REAL cult this time, not like the fantasy idea of a cult I just described. Like a close knit high control group. It was supposedly a safe haven for plant and nature spirits to live peacefully but it's run by the worlds worst plant-based HOA. this was mildly inspired by my interest in christian fundamentalists and also new age cults. Groe spent around 5 to 50 years there (idk i haven't figured it out) before skeedaddling and eventually just dragging its ass back home, out of a lack of anywhere better to go.

(both cults sexually abused him but in one of them he was in a child body and it sucked)

unfortunately Maureno had moved back in and had a kid, so Groe had to set up in an abandoned trailer it found nearby. it didn't wanna grow itself a new home cuz of Personal Reasons and Trauma or w/e so. metal rust bucket it isss.

so basically The Hole was a cavernous system of caves and man made labyrinthine structures where Groe was kept underground by a magic cult for an unknown amount of years before being sort of rescued and then immediately falling into a different, harder to escape cult. (harder to escape because he didn't know it was a cult)

[of-the-eclipse]

Home and Barnaby dynamic is so funny... They're friends and they get along but Barnaby just pisses him off sometimes.

They're the "can't stand her fake ass! -> Me and the bestie" image except home constantly switches between the two sides

Anyway dialouge from this stupid image:

[kanerallels]

Today's @spectre-week prompt is dedicated to @keeper-of-sparkly-things, because it was her genius idea in the first place! Here it is on AO3, but it's also on here! Enjoy!

The Kingdom of Sand was, in a word, hot. Blisteringly hot, in a way that weighed on the scales and seared through the flesh. Zeb had only been there for a few days, and he felt like he was melting, scale by scale.

He hated it with a passionate fury. But he didn’t have a choice. Home… wasn’t an option anymore.

A shudder rippled through him at the memories— Insidious’s guards showing up at his home village. Lady Crystalline facing them, her children Petrel and Tern behind her, curious.

Blue blood, staining the snow bright.

So much death. Too much. Zeb had barely made it out alive. He still wasn’t sure how he’d made it out. He was captain of the guard, by the moons. He shouldn’t have been the one who was still alive.

But he was. And now he was in the Kingdom of Sand, watching himself evaporate drop by drop.

Pulling his wings a little closer in hope that there was some leftover cold in those scales, he squinted at the desert around him. He’d been traveling for five days, switching between flying and walking, and there was officially no sign of the Ice Kingdom behind him. Just sand and cacti, and the odd desert creature.

Luckily, Zeb had always been good at maps. And if he remembered correctly, he was getting closer to his goal. The Scorpion Den was at the heart of the desert, past even the old Sandwing palace, from back when rulers other than Insidious had actually held power. These days, they were just puppets or talonlicking scum who agreed with Insidious’s lies.

The Scorpion Den wasn’t like that. Mostly because it was a haven for criminals— or so Zeb had always heard. There had been times when it was more organized, run by dragons who wanted to help, not to harm. Now, who knew? All Zeb cared about was that it was a place where, hopefully, he could disappear.

After that… he didn’t know what would come next. Pantala wasn’t watched as closely as Pyrrhia was, so maybe he’d travel to the other continent. But once he was there, then what? Just hide away while the Empire continued their atrocities, massacring dragons who dared to stand up to Insidious?

The truth was, he didn’t know where to go next. The only thing he could focus on was putting one talon in front of the other, and the burning heat beating down on his scales.

It was worse down on the sand, though, and he’d been there for a couple hours already. Flaring his wings, it took Zeb a couple tries to get into the air, but once he was there, flying was a relief. It was a repetitive action, giving him something to focus on, and the wind rushing around him cooled him a little.

Time ticked by, but not much had passed before Zeb saw a dark shape looming on the horizon. As he grew closer, he recognized it with a jolt. This was the Sandwing palace. He’d been to once when he was new in the guard, years ago.

If he’d reached the palace, then it couldn’t be long before he reached the Scorpion Den. Beating his wings harder, Zeb pushed onwards. He was close— and he hadn’t had anything to drink in a while. There would be water there, and he could submerge himself in an oceanful.

He thought wistfully of the frigid seas of the Ice Kingdom, and kept flying.

Hours slipped by. The sun sank in the sky, but Zeb didn’t stop. It was smarter for him to fly by night, anyways. Kept him safe from prying eyes, and from the heat of the day.

So he flew through the night, the moons glittering off his wings, the temperature dropping to something far more pleasantly chilly. The night passed in a blur, the sky going dark and then fading into light again.

The sun slowly bled over the horizon, turning the sand below him orange and staining the sky. In the distance, the dark shape of a sprawling city marred the wide expanse of desert.

Zeb had made it to the Scorpion Den.

He landed outside the city limits gracefully. And by gracefully, he meant his wings faltered and his head spun and he wound up in a tangled pile, face down and spitting out sand.

In his defense, he’d been flying all night. And it had been a long time since he last had any water.

Scrambling up, he shook off his wings, waited until his head stopped whirling, and then started towards the city gate.

Zeb only made it a little ways into the city when he realized this wasn’t like any cities he’d ever been to before. The Ice Kingdom, while welcoming to other tribes, was simply too cold for other species. They generally had to leave their home to experience others. That had been more common, before Insidious. Now, with his reign, the Icewings kept to themselves. The idea of a Nightwing king ruling over everyone was just a little too close to certain past events to be anything less than ominous.

So the town where Zeb lived, and most of the others, were just Icewings.

There wasn’t an Icewing in sight here. There were Sandwings, mostly. But also Skywings, their orange and red scales bright against the sand, and duller brown Mudwings. The colors overlapped in an autumnal medley, with an occasional pop of blue from a Seawing or black from a Nightwing.

They were a little unusual. Zeb stuck out like a sore thumb, and everyone around him knew it. A lot of hostile and suspicious glances were being sent his way, and it was getting old. Zeb put on his most aggressive look— which didn’t take much, he was a natural at looking mean— and decided to find the closest oasis or well. If he didn’t get water soon, he was probably going to pass out.

He hadn’t made it far when things started to get interesting.

First, the streets started to get emptier. The dragons around him slipped out of sight or darted down alleyways, and Zeb frowned. Something was wrong.

Second, a squad of Insidious’s armored stormtroopers came barrelling down the street, and Zeb froze. Just the sight of them brought back memories he didn’t care to relive, and he tensed, ready for a fight.

But they went right past him, like he wasn’t even there, charging into a nearby alleyway, bristling with weapons.

What was happening nearby that was more dangerous than him?

Curiosity tugged at him until he found himself heading down the same alleyway, ears pricked. It wasn’t long before he heard… something. Snarls and shouts, clattering weapons. There was the barest hint of smoke, and Zeb slowed a little as he came closer.

Peeking around a corner, he took in the sight before him.

There were six stormtroopers, all carrying swords or spears and clad in white armor that covered their scales. They’d backed their quarry into a corner, and Zeb realized, with a jolt of surprise, that it was a Leafwing.

He hadn’t met too many Pantalan dragons in his time, and he was pretty sure this was the first Leafwing he’d ever seen. His scales were green, with highlights of brown, and his eyes were a surprising shade of blue-green.

More surprising than that, however, was his reaction to the troopers. He didn’t look remotely concerned. In fact, a bit of a smile crossed his face as he bounced on his talons a little, ready for a fight.

Zeb was already pretty sure he liked this guy.

“Surrender, rebel,” one of the troopers barked at him. “You’ve been interfering in Emperor Insidious’s business.”

The Leafwing snorted. “If keeping you from beating up a dragonet is interfering, then I think I’ll keep doing it.”

“Hybrids are outlawed—”

“For existing, yeah. So I’ve heard.” Flexing his talons, the Leafwing glared at them. “Dragons shouldn’t have to justify their right to live.”

“Disrespect like this won’t be tolerated,” the stormtrooper snarled, and the Leafwing grinned.

“Then do something about it.”

The troopers were about to attack. Zeb could see them tensing, ready to move in. And while the Leafwing looked like a warrior, that didn’t mean he could handle six on his own.

Which was good. Because Zeb was about ready for a fight too.

Stepping away from the wall, he inhaled deeply, then exhaled a long blast of frostbreath across the bare wings of the troopers in front of him.

Some of it missed, collecting in frosty spirals across the armor on their back, but it hit the mark well enough. The two dragons recoiled, howling— and the Leafwing moved.

He was fast, almost faster than Zeb as he barrelled into the nearest trooper. Letting out a snarl of satisfaction, Zeb hurled himself into the fray, yanking a spear from one of the trooper’s talons. Grabbing him and one of his companions, he slammed their heads together, and let them drop to the ground.

The Leafwing had already dispatched one of the dragons Zeb had hit with his frostbreath. The other one had collapsed, unmoving, on the ground. Another was fighting the Leafwing. And the sixth—

A blast of fire seared Zeb’s side, and he jerked backwards with a snarl. Swinging the spear at the dragon advancing towards him, he forced him backwards, backing him against the wall. He sent a blast of frostbreath towards him, then, when the trooper was distracted pulling back, slammed the hilt of the spear into his head.

It cracked against the helmet, but it worked. The trooper folded to the ground, unmoving. Dropping the spear, Zeb let out a satisfied grunt. It had been far too long since he’d gotten in a good fight.

“Thanks for the assist.”

Zeb turned to see the Leafwing, eying him curiously. “No problem,” he said.

The Leafwing nodded. “I’m Kanan. We don’t see a lot of Icewings here.”

“Can’t imagine why. Not like it’s a blasted inferno around here,” Zeb said dryly, grimacing. “And it’s Zeb.”

Kanan studied him for a minute, then seemed to come to a decision. “Well, Zeb, I think I can help with some of that. Come on— let’s get some water on those burns.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and ducked down an alley. Zeb hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to follow a clearly proficient warrior down a dark alley— but at this point, he was too thirsty to care. He headed after the Leafwing.

They wound their way down narrow alleys and edged between buildings, keeping away from the main crowds— though Zeb could hear them, calling and arguing and selling things. Finally, they popped out in front of a large white tent, and Kanan led the way inside.

The interior was shady and cooler, and Zeb enjoyed the lack of sun for a minute before taking in his surroundings. There were a few rugs and pillows piled in a corner, along with a wooden chest and a rack of weapons, and an opening at the back, which Kanan was heading towards. “We’ve got access to one of the oases out here,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re lucky— the Empire and the gangs have got all the others.”

Zeb hurried after him, coming out in front of a wide pool, surrounded by palm trees. There were a handful of other dragons, filling waterskins or flasks, but Zeb didn’t pay any attention to them.

Heading straight to the pool, he stuck his head in, gulping down several mouthfuls with a groan of relief. He heard Kanan off to his left talking to someone, but didn’t pay attention to the words as he scooped water out of the pool, dripping it over the burns from his encounter with the troopers. None were too bad, but they did sting, and Zeb wished, more than ever, for a pile of snow. Or at least for a lack of oppressive heat.

He settled for dumping a talonful of water over his head, then drinking a little more, this time slowly. The last thing he wanted was to be sick, and he was pretty sure that was a thing that could happen.

Sitting back on the sand, Zeb glanced towards Kanan. The Leafwing was approaching him, holding something, and at his side was another dragon. At first glance, to Zeb’s surprise, she looked to be a Silkwing.

Silkwings were a little more common than Leafwings— but where they were seen, all too often, they were slaves. Ornaments of society, as pretty as Rainwings but without the magical death spit. Zeb had always hated that practice. Thank the three moons, it was rare in the Ice Kingdom.

And this Silkwing didn’t look like a slave. Her green eyes were steady and calm, not a drop of subservience or fear in them. She held herself like a leader, not a servant. And while her green wings with the silvery lighter green patterns resembled Silkwings closely, the yellow highlights looked decidedly… sandy?

Interesting, Zeb thought. This might explain why Kanan had been picking a fight over a hybrid dragonet.

“Zeb, this is Hera,” Kanan told him, nodding at the Silkwing. “She’s the boss around here. Hera, this is—”

“The reason you’re not dead right now,” Hera finished, and Kanan gave her an offended look.

“I can handle myself.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, dear.” Oh, they’re totally a thing, Zeb thought as Hera turned her attention to him. “Thank you for helping him out, Zeb. I wish there was some way we could repay you—”

“The water is just fine, ma’am,” Zeb told her.

Grinning, Kanan said, “I think we can do better than that.”

He tossed him the object he’d been holding, and Zeb caught it. It was an armband, made of green leather, and he frowned. “Right. Jewelry. That’s… great? Totally won’t look hideous on me?”

Rolling his eyes, Kanan said, “It was all I had. Put it on— you’ll see.”

Dubiously, Zeb strapped it onto one of his front arms. The minute it clicked shut, he froze.

Literally. A wave of icy cold swept the heat away, bathing him in arctic temperatures. It felt like he was outside on a perfectly cool day at home. “What—” Zeb stared at Kanan. And then he saw the narrow bracelet clasped around Kanan’s wrist, and the matching one on Hera’s. The kind that were generally animus touched communicators.

“Temperature regulator,” Kanan said, looking satisfied. “Removable at any time, and it’ll adjust to any climate. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Zeb said, staring at him. “What— are you—”

“Not that we make that public,” Hera added, her voice quiet. “The less people who know what he can do, the better.”

Nodding, Zeb said, “Got it. Well, thanks. Er— why did you help me?”

Kanan shrugged. “You helped me. It’s the least I could do. Besides… we’ve been hearing rumors about something bad happening in the Ice Kingdom. If you are running from that, you’ll need it.”

A memory of blood and terror flickered through Zeb’s mind, and he shoved it away. “Yeah. You’re not wrong.”

Hera nodded, her gaze sympathetic. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. Do you have any plans?”

“Not yet,” Zeb admitted. “But… I guess I could stick around for a bit.”

“We’re glad to have you,” Kanan told him, and for the first time since Zeb had run, things felt… not quite easier. But he was somewhere safe, with people who he could trust. And that was a step in the right direction.

[welcome-back-home]

Hi! Noticed your asks are open, (and also, I love your recent work! The dynamic is so cute!!) and I want to request a wally x reader who is a popstar, I wanna see your take on it!!

Also, Have a great day! 💜💜

thank you so much! im so glad you liked my work! i really appreciate it ^^ you have a nice day too and happy reading!

link: puppet reader

note:this is a massive story im so sorry

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the day started like any other...at least at first, wally does his daily painting routine at his favorite painting spot, underneath a tree with a easel in front of him. the painting he was making resembled a apple cut open with many colors inside in a lemony yellow backgound. he figured his beloved would enjoy it. no matter what personality, they always loved his work and almost immediately hangs it on their wall.

he then paused, mid motion of dipping his paint brush into red paint...now thinking about it, he hasnt seen you all day or hardly anyone for that matter. normally you would show up to say hello or he finds you during his journey to his painting spots, but he was so caught up in his own little world to notice that...time passed and you still haven`t shown up.

a chill goes up his spine at the thought of something wrong might`ve happened, getting a breif flashback of the time his beloved developed a daredevil like personality and they almost got themselves killed.

he looks at his painting as he set the tools down, "it can wait" he thought, as he ventures off to find you.

walking to your home he noticed the design has changed again, it was covered in colorful music notes and fake plastic vinyl records here and there and music is playing from inside. a pleasant musical theme. however over the music thats playing inside was the sounds of construction behind the house and friends talking. wally thought you where back there building something. so he walked behind the house to not see you, but sally, julie, and howdy. the three are apparently working on building a stage, it looked to be almost done as its firmly standing tall and decorated with star covered curtains and fairy lights.

the neighbors have been busy most of the day making a mini concert for you, a treat you 'the famous pop star' wanted to give to the community as a thank you for being great friends. of course you didnt ask them to make the stage, they offered to make it for you. the three of them was having fun putting the last finishing touches on the setup while frank gets chairs, barnaby gets snacks, and eddie finishing his final mail run for the day, poppy was nowhere to be found. wally wonders where both you and poppy could be...but he figures the both of you are busy with something else important for this setup. so instead he went to say hello to sally,julie, and howdy.

"hello friends!" wally greets the trio while he waves "wally! where have you been? you was about to miss the show" sally asks with a smile, a bottle of glue and a jar of glitter in her hands, she was making glitter covered shapes on the stages platform to give it extra flare "im sorry, i was caught up with my painting and did not notice the time" wally sighs as he confessed where he has been most of the day, embarrassment and a hint of remorse in his tone "thats ok silly! you`re here now!" julie speaks up, understanding that anyone can lose track of time when they are doing something they enjoy, "am i still able to help?" wally offers, even if its kind to late, howdy holds out a paintbrush to him thats coated with green paint "can you help me paint the rest of the stage?" howdy smiles, even if he had it covered already with his four arms, he would love to have some help.

with a grin wally accepts the brush and helps howdy paint the wooden stage. everyone else returned from their tasks and soon the set up was finished, poppy showed up after a while to sneak someone behind the curtains of the stage and took a seat with everyone else in the small crowd.

and then the show begins.

the curtains open to reveal you on the center of the stage, the fairy lights illuminating the stage and makes you shine brighter then anything in the world in wallys eyes. you was smiling, dressed in pop star getup, and face framed perfectly with the new hairstyle you have for the day. you looked like a angel standing on that stage.

"hello neighbors!" you said cheerfully into the mic thats on a stand in front of you "i wanted to give you something in return for the never ending kindness you've always given me since ive moved here" you continued, a spark of confidence in your voice "i`ve written this one for someone special, i hope you all enjoy it" you say as a song starts to play from the speakers.

as you began to sing the world practically stood still, your voice was so beautiful it practically made wally swoon. his heart sped up and his face grew warm as he rests his head on the palm of his hand, never taking his lovestruck gaze off of you. a song you have made for him you`ve sang with all the confidence in your very soul, each lyric and note he will forever know by heart. he has never fallen as hard as he did at this moment...

and even when the song finished he never took his eyes off of you or even stopped listening when you started the next song, he hung on to every word. just enjoying every second of your beautiful performance...

[cleo-arty]

Yeah fuck it imma share the AU idea I have going on

🏵️Welcome Golden Flower🏵️

An AU that takes place after the events of Welcome home's cancelation.

To make this short, the story goes that during the cancelation the directors were discussing on what to do with the cast. Eventually setting on reusing their stuff and fabric to save money. So during the night they took everyone of the puppets away, all except Wally. Thanks to Home locking him out when the directors tried to take him as well. Afterwards, Wally didn't understand where his neighbors went, and after months of trying to search for them he began to lose so much hope. He soon settle down next to Julie's house as a way to hope that she was still there, maybe playing some sort of joke on him. Wally then looked at her golden flower bed as he remembered all the times him and the others would chat there. So in a way he decided to lay there, hoping and wishing to see his friends once again. Then he woke up in a strange area called "The Garden" where bundles of golden flowers lay on the ground. Julie found him afterwards and greeted Wally back after so long of them being apart.

Wally in this AU goes by the nickname Marigold or Goldie based on the flower he was given. His personality doesn't change here, he's more so the same. He does however not know about his friends demise still...

Wally is unsure about the Garden and it's whole purpose, he just goes there every night for now on to see his friends again. He tells home a lot about his time over there but Home never believes him.

Julie in this AU goes by Crocus or Violent. Still the same bubbly and cheerful girl she is. She however is moreso aware of the events that happened along side her friends. However, she refuse to tell Wally about it since she doesn't want to break his heart.

Julie still loves to cheer people up, but she took inspiration into dancing as she thought letting all her positive energy out will help others remain happy.

The Garden

A beautiful and peaceful place Julie created way back then as her own safe haven. The Garden is a place for positivity for everyone who steps in. There are many things you may encounter in the Garden, but only if you have something you truly desire most.

It's said that if you hope and wish for what you want, you may find a path of your flower color guiding you towards the area to your wish. Anything can come true in the Garden.

Beware of the wilted flower path however, no one knows what you may run into but...It's best never to go down those paths.

Flower Color Lore

Your flower can be anything you wish, based on your own personality and beauty. The colors however is something that is very important.

Pastel or light color flowers shows the person either being created from the garden or shows the person is sadly deceased. Because of that you may stay in the Garden forever. However, you may never leave no matter what.

Vibrant or bright color flowers shows the person being linked to the real world or if the person still is alive. With that you only are allowed to visit the Garden during the night. However, once day breaks your body will disintegrate into flower petals. Allow your body to be brought back to reality.

That's all the lore I got omg I fr planned all this out hdjdhd

Anywho um the other character I'll hopefully be able to show since I am still making their refs. Thanks for reading through if you made it here :"D!

[angelof-thevoid]

Memorable Moments / Wisdom

Io remained the same in spite of everything else that’s happened. Ikora came to the Jovian moon expecting it to be changed as well, but found the only thing different was her. As a person. Doubtful. Hopeless, and stripped of the light. What was once the steady presence of a background hum is now a gaping void of silence. Emotions that had been long-time strangers now rise back to the surface to force their re-acquaintance if she lingers too long on that thought.

The traveler was caged and the last safe city was no longer safe, overrun with red legion troops making a mess of what humanity had re-built. She scans the horizon, eyes dragged to the focal point of the cradle, a strange series of geometric risings carved out of the yellow sulfur infused ground. Like the beginnings of a project once started but left unfinished and abandoned. 

Like how she abandoned the city. Ikora draws in steady breath as she turns around to face the area commonly dubbed the lost oasis. Lost, like I am. It’s hard for her to reach for the usual faith she holds in the light as Ikora stands by watching idly the taken in the distance near tear shiver and teleport in that unnatural way. She feels powerless. She hates this feeling. 

All the wisdom Ikora possessed seemed outside her reach at this moment, feeling untethered to an integral part of who she was and her belief system. Holding the highest crucible record meant nothing if that bravado was only backed by the strength of her light, who is she outside of that capability? Another cowering mortal, waiting out the oncoming days, seeing which day might be the last?

Who did she want to be was the real question. Her hands tightened for a moment behind her back before deciding to get down in a kneeled position, choosing to meditate on the dilemma. Ikora shuts her eyes and sets her breathing into an even pace as her mind flickers between images of what used to matter to her, what matters now and what always had. 

The pursuit of knowledge. Proving herself and her strength. Learning to study and grow from other’s teachings. Knowing her identity separated from that and knowing when to walk away. Ikora inhales, then exhales.

Her fire team. Zavala. Cayde. Her Hidden. The rest of the guardians and the mortal civilians of the last city. Everyone who is still there, doing their best to survive this current crisis like many others. But this was different, this threat brought right to their doorstep, right on top of their home and safe haven. Ikora clenches her fists in her lap again. How dare they. Taking the traveler and their home. 

Ikora continues her meditation with her evened breathing to prevent herself from feeling overwhelmed, when she hears the tell-tale sound of a jump ship flying overhead. She looks up and sees what she believes to be the guardian’s ship, now hovering to settle in low orbit as they transmat out of the vehicle.

She rises and looks back out toward the cradle, feeling a sort of kinship to it out here half undone and lonely on its own. Ikora hears the guardian’s footsteps behind her with what seems like misplaced confidence, all things considered, and she feels… Wait. She feels the presence of the guardian as she always had, including their light.

The guardian’s light? How? Ghaul cut off the traveler! Ikora kept her surprise inward as she argued internally over this. The guardian had proven to be quite extraordinary, maybe they were somehow unaffected? But there was footage of them falling from high up, like a puppet cut from its strings along with their ghost being spotted searching for them. 

Even so, if it’s possible to have the light returned and the guardian found a way, not all was lost then. If they have that knowledge then that could mean there’s still a chance to turn all of this around. A spark of hope ignites within her chest as Ikora basks in the familiar sense of that background hum of light coming off the guardian, although a part of it seems a little… Changed. 

What that could mean she doesn’t know nor have the wisdom at this present moment to determine. But what it did mean was in her mind a turning point as Ikora addresses the guardian, confiding in them her concerns while still sticking to the wisdom of their faith in the light. And she considers the reappearance of the guardian before her as a sign of that wisdom being true.