#if you eat there for some reason still please go somewhere else

[lordjim777]

I genuinely need people to realize that Starbucks is not gourmet coffee. It is the McDonald’s of coffee but you’re paying gourmet prices.

[cybrasigilism]

I would die if you wrote an nsfw fic about Namgyu x reader 😭😭😭 like what if he’s your toxic ex or you guys just hate each other and it grows into an attraction… I love your writing so much btw!!

IFHY (Player 124/Nam-gyu x Reader)

warnings: smut of course, i mean have you seen my page? | not proofread | lowercase intended | unknown identities | nam-gyu’s a dick | unprotected sex (the pullout method is not reliable ladies and gentlemen) | fingering | degradation | rough sex | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character are different from yours

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: there needs to be a larger selection of GIFs for 124 man, i can’t find any ones of him NOT being in the background its unfortunate. hope y’all enjoy as always, i found this one sort of challenging to write, it’s definitely out of my comfort zone but i still had fun!

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

• ─────────────── •

toleration.

that was the one thing keeping you going in these new, uncertain circumstances of yours. as long as you laid low, didn’t complain, and simply tolerated your new life then maybe, things wouldn’t be so bad.

that seems easy, except for the fact that there was one thing, rather one person, you just could not tolerate. and that was player 124.

sure, the crowd he stuck to was overall quite obnoxious, but for some reason 124 in particular really got under your skin. first off, you didn’t like how he and his purple-haired crackhead friend would always pick on that player 333. sure, he may have scammed lots of people out of their money, but surely those idiots had bigger things to focus on over being petty nuisances.

secondly? the way he would stare at you with such hate for no good reason. you assumed it was probably due to the fact that you constantly voted X, even though you both knew it didn’t make much of a difference. it didn’t bother you that he hated you, seeing as the feeling was more than mutual, but you just wish he would focus his stare somewhere else.

and lastly, every single thing about him and his mannerisms just pissed. you. off. his whole smug demeanour really made you want to land a punch square between his eyes, but you figured he might actually be into that since he clearly had a death wish, seeing as how he always picked the O side of the vote. you were convinced that had it not been for his tweaker of a leader, he would have died a long time ago. to be honest, you wished he had.

that’s why, when he grabbed you by the sleeve and yanked you into a room for the mingle game, you were completely stunned. you would have figured 124 would have left you for dead, hell, you would have expected him to purposely knock you to the ground. maybe it was the adrenaline that made him grab you, maybe it was that he actually… wanted to save you? no, couldn’t have been.

unless..?

“what the hell did you do that for?” you asked, out of breath. he furrowed his brows, looking down on you with that usual stare. “well?” you continued, louder this time. he let out a chuckle before taking a glance out at all the unlucky players who couldn’t find groups.

“what’s so funny?” you questioned, steadying yourself against the wall. he looked back at you, with that shit eating smirk that you hated so much. “i just didn’t realize that you wanted to die that badly.” his response took you aback, a sour expression appearing on your face.

“oh, i suppose i should thank you for yanking me by the arm like that then?” you huffed, rolling your shoulder as you adjusted your sleeve. he approached you, and you suddenly felt the urge to swallow the saliva you just became alarmingly aware of. “you don’t have to thank me now..” he started, looking you up and down in such a way that made your cheeks grow warmer. “you can just pay me back later.”

just then, the doors unlocked, and player 124 was more than happy to swing it open and head back to his little group, not without looking back at you with a sly wink. you stayed stood in the room for a brief moment, still leaned against the wall, trying to process why your cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden.

oh god, you weren’t… catching feelings for 124, were you?

———

it was lights out when you started thinking about your guys’s brief mingle room interaction. you still couldn’t wrap your mind around what you were feeling, but now you found yourself squeezing your legs together as you thought more and more about player 124. you couldn’t believe this, you didn’t even know this assholes name, and now he’s got you all hot and bothered like this?

you knew what you had to do, and you were not proud of it.

after about 5 solid minutes of convincing the circle-masked guard to allow you access to the bathroom, you quickly secured yourself in a stall. “i can’t believe i’m actually doing this right now.” was all you could think as you pulled your pants around your knees, along with your underwear, and slid your hand between your thighs. you had hoped no one could hear as you began to moan softly, just as your thoughts spiralled about player 124, and the tension between you two in the little mingle room; how much you wished he would have taken you right there, inside that cramped space. you felt yourself approaching the edge when you heard something that made your heart stop.

his voice. his voice?

something inside you prayed to god that somehow your imagination had just been that good, but you heard him again, calling out your number from just beyond the stall door. you were too petrified to say, think, even do anything. but of course, he pulled the door open and there you were, hand between your thighs with the single most horrified expression painted on your face.

“wow, couldn’t even wait for me, huh?” he mocked, his gaze fixated between your legs. “what the fuck are you looking at, pervert?!” you whisper-shouted, so as to not alert the guards. he laughed, and you don’t know how or why but that did something to you, as if your fingers currently on your clit were helping matters at all.

“pervert? i’d say you’re the perverse one, seeing how you were just jacking off in the public bathrooms. are you that much of a slut that you can’t keep your hands outta your pants for more than a night?” his degrading was not easing things, matter of fact it was only turning you on, and you were sure he knew that. you started to pull your hand away, and he shut the two of you inside the confined stall.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 124 asked, now on his knees so you had to meet his gaze. “i was just-“ you started, before being quickly interrupted by him grabbing your now exposed hand. “stopping?” he finished your sentence for you, cocking his head to the side with the same wide eyed faux-curious expression you’re sure you’ve seen him give others in the games. “don’t you dare stop on my account.” you tried to avoid eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “i can’t do it.. not in front of you.” your response felt totally out of character for yourself, and 124 totally called bullshit then and there. “fine, then i guess i’ll just have to help you then won’t i?” his boldness shouldn’t have shocked you, and you don’t think it did. you barely had time to wrap your head around the fact that he now had slithered his own hand between your legs before-

“oh my god.” was drawn from your lips as he slid his fingers up your slick folds, brushing against your clit as he rubbed up and down your pussy. “holy shit, i’ve hardly done anything and you’re already soaked.” he exclaimed smuggly, earning an attempted glare from you. “oh please, don’t take all the credit.” you scoffed, using every bit of willpower you could muster to ensure you didn’t moan, god forbid. “i think i can,” he chuckled, continuing what would be the beginning of his assault on your nerves, “you know you got this fucking wet thinking of me.” when you least expected it, he pushed not one, but two fingers into your cunt. at this point you saw stars, feeling yourself clench around him so soon you felt as though you should be ashamed of yourself, but you didn’t care.

“shit, already so tight for me, huh?” you could tell through 124’s tone than he was totally turned on by this, by how horny he made you. “if i had known you’d be this easy, i would have done this a while ago.” normally you would be completely offended by his words, but when he started circling your clit with his thumb you really couldn’t bring yourself to mind at all. “p-please…i need to..” you could barely get your words out through your moans, you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t understand you. “need ta’ cum, so bad-“

“oh yeah? you need it?” he taunted, only increasing his pace as he pumped his fingers knuckle-deep inside your throbbing pussy. “i don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” he stopped suddenly. you cried out at the abrupt loss of friction as he released his fingers from your firm grip. he took in the sight of how desperate you were as he lowered his pants, ordering you to free up your seat, to which you were shocked you could even stand at this point. “if you need to cum so bad, why don’t you show me that you deserve it.” he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to him. you couldn’t process what situation you were in just now. one minute you were convinced you hated the guy, and now your pussy was inches away from his dick? you can’t say you minded your predicament, you were just terribly shocked.

“why the hesitation? didn’t you say you needed to cum?” the return of the mocking tone was not lost on you, and you could feel yourself begin to shake. not out of fear, but out of pure anticipation. “i’m sorry, i just…” you began, before he grabbed you hips and pulled you down onto his lap, the both of you gasping at the abrupt feeling of pure ecstasy. “holy shit!” you cried out, gripping onto the walls of the stall as 124 began to bounce you on his cock. it’s almost as though he was setting the pace for what he wanted you to do, and you quickly caught on, sliding up and down his dick as his grip on your hips hardened.

“god you’re such a pathetic little whore,” he said through gritted teeth, slapping your ass while you rode him, earning a hearty moan from your lips. “oh, yeah? you like getting slapped like the little cockslut you are?” “y-es! oh fuck, oh fuck.” it was as if you were in a trance, telling him anything he wanted to hear. “yeah? imma need to hear you say it.” he teased, you could still feel him controlling your every move through the grasp he had on your hips. you tell him exactly what he wants. “i..i’m your..” you moan senselessly “your little cockslut-“

“fuck yeah, at least you know what you’re good for..” his words started to get a bit unsteady, maybe it was because of how tight you were clenching on him. “oh shit, are you close already?” he gasped, to which you responded something unintelligible. “fuck, i can barely understand you, babbling like a needy little whore.” you couldn’t take it, the way he made you feel was immeasurable to anything you’ve ever experienced. all you wanted in that moment was player 124, you never wanted him to stop pounding up into you with such tenacity.

with one final squeeze of your cunt, he held your hips down and a hot feeling quickly filled up your insides. a slew of profanities were expelled from his lips and you felt your whole body shake. as soon as your collective breathing steadied, he motioned you to get off his lap and he pulled his pants back up. you, however, could not possibly muster yourself to stand up at the moment, your legs still vibrating from the wild ride you just experienced.

“like i said,” he started, “if i had known you’d have been this easy.. woulda fucked you a lot sooner.” he turned and left the restroom, and you stayed slumped against the wall. now you could say one thing was for sure..

you definitely tolerated player 124.

• ─────────────── •

thanks so much for reading! i know it’s sort of different than what i usually write but i hope it’s satisfactory! as usual please, if you have any advice or constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing it’s greatly appreciated!

have a great day/night 💋

tags: @gabbystinks

[daycourtofficial]

A Bite Sized Romance

Summary: you offer to make dinner for Azriel, but he gives you half-assed reasons as to why he can’t make it.

Author’s note: I love love love this idea it’s been floating around my head for a LONG time 💕

“Have you ever had ratatouille?” You ask Azriel, taking a bite of the dish in front of you.

Every Thursday, you and the shadowsinger go out to a different restaurant, usually in Velaris, occasionally in other courts. Seeing the shadowsinger could be difficult during the week, especially with your busy schedule, so you two set aside Thursday nights to eating dinner together.

Your brain had a hard time understanding that these were not necessarily dates, even though that is exactly what Cassian, Mor, the whole IC, and even Azriel and yourself call them.

“No, what’s rat patootie?” He says, taking a bite of his pasta.

“Ratatouille,” you correct, sighing wistfully, “it’s a traditional dish my mom used to make when I was a kid. I don’t think annyone in Velaris makes it. This dish kind of reminds me of it, but it’s not the same.”

You sit up, a smile stretching across your face. “Maybe next Thursday I’ll cook it for us. It’s so much better homemade - what do you say?”

He stills at your words, almost choking on his food. Through coughs he tells you, “surely there’s somewhere we can go for it, I wouldn’t want to trouble you with cooking.”

“But I like cooking,” you object. “And despite the copious amounts of meals we’ve shared together, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked for you.”

He doesn’t want to budge, so you pull out the big guns.

You pout your lip, making your eyes look as sad and endearing as possible, “please, Az? It reminds me of being a kid again. And I’d love to share that with you.”

Mother forsake him, he couldn’t say no to your sad, puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbles, sure he’ll figure a way out of it before Thursday comes. Perhaps he could find a way to get impaled.

You squeal, “oooh you’re going to love it!”

-

Thursday was fast approaching, and Azriel was trying to use every excuse in the book to keep this dinner from happening. He told you Rhys had to send him on a mission that night, which you immediately turned around and went to Rhys’s office and asked him to send someone else.

Rhys, having no idea what you were talking about, sees Azriel in the doorway who tells him mind to mind, “come on, say you have to send me.”

Rhys sends the equivalent of a smirk to Azriel mentally and tells you, “my mistake, I didn’t realize what day I was telling him to leave.”

Azriel stood in the doorway and gave his brother the finger from behind you.

Azriel made excuses, all ranging from Cassian needing help with training, Feyre needing an escort to the Hewn City, even to Mor needing help with the upkeep of the horses in the guard. Every excuse was denied by his so-called family, not allowing him to use them as scapegoats. It was starting to make you suspicious.

Thursday morning after Azriel’s last ditch attempt to get out of the dinner, involving some excuse about Eris needing rescuing, you sigh, exasperated.

“Okay Az, it was just an idea. Clearly you don’t want to do it, so just.. don’t bother, okay? Go save Eris from whatever it is that’s attacking him.”

You turn, wanting to leave the kitchen before Azriel sees how much this actually upsets you. “That’s not-“ he starts, trying to grab you as you pass him, but you wriggle from his grasp, disappearing into the hallway up to your bedroom.

Az was sitting on the kitchen counter, wallowing in self-pity over how poorly he handled that situation, when Cassian walked in.

“And what do you have to be so upset about, pretty boy?”

Azriel lifts his head, looking at Cassian eating a stupid banana. Gods, he wanted to throttle him. “Oh no, I’m Azriel and a beautiful woman wants to cook me dinner, even though I eat dinner with her most nights and have weekly dates with her even though I deny anyth-“

Cassian stops, taking a bite of his banana. He looks up, and realization dawns on him.

“Oh my gods,” he says, his mouth full of banana. Azriel decides to play the denial game, because surely Cassian did not figure out the secret he’s kept guarded for several months while eating a fucking banana.

Cassian looked at him, turning to look up the stairs where you had left just a few moments ago, “you two?”

Azriel rolls his eyes, “we’re friends, yes.”

Cassian rolls his eyes even harder. “I’m not an idiot. You follow her around like a pitiful puppy,” he says, coming closer to his brother, “you two eat just about every meal together, but the one day she offers to cook for you suddenly you can’t find time for her?”

Cassian narrows his eyes at Azriel, “you ashamed of her or something?”

Azriel’s eyes widen, not only at Cassian’s question that he could ever be ashamed of you, but also at Cassian’s change in demeanor.

Cassian slips into the protective big brother role when it comes to you quite easily, Azriel thinks as Cassian puffs out his chest while he strides over to stand next to Azriel.

“Now why on earth would I be ashamed of her?”

Cassian inspects Azriel for a second before asking, “then why haven’t you told her?”

He pauses, then asks, “how long have you known?”

Azriel huffs, “known what?”

“That she’s your mate.”

Azriel stills at Cassian’s words. They liked to poke fun of Cass, calling him a dumb brute, but Cassian was no fool. If any member of his family were to discover his secret, it would be Cassian.

Azriel looks at him, “a few months. I’ve been… waiting.” He sighs, “I keep wanting to tell her and then I psyche myself out. Once I tell her, things will be… different.”

Azriel hates how quiet his voice becomes as he says, “what if she is ashamed of who the mother picked for her?”

Cassian’s chest deflates, all sense of protectiveness over you gone and replaced with protectiveness over his brother.

“Then she’d be a fool.”

Looking down, Azriel watches as Cassian’s foot gently nudges his own, a silent request from Cassian for him to look up.

“There is no way she would ever be ashamed of you or be upset that you’re her mate.”

The way Cassian is looking at Azriel makes him want to shy away, but Cassian keeps his gaze steady, almost locking Azriel’s eyes into place.

“I’d be willing to bet she has journals full of doodles where she draws little hearts with your names in it, and she also writes “Mrs. Shadowsinger”

The rise in octave in his brother’s voice causes a laugh to burst out of him, but Cassian continues.

“I once tried to sit next to you for a meal and I’ve never seen anyone move as quickly as she did to claim her seat. Honestly, this will come as a shock to no one.”

Azriel looked back up at his brother to find him already looking at him, a soft gaze grazing his face.

“We’re happy for you two.”

Azriel scoffs, “I take that to mean you’ve already told Rhysand?”

Cassian starts walking away, going to pick up the remainder of his banana. “Oh yeah, we’ve had a bet for about a year now. Rhys thought the bond had snapped for her, but I knew it would be you. You’ve made me a much richer man, Az.”

Cassian bows in thanks, ducking out the door as Azriel throws a different banana towards the space he was occupying.

-

You had been sulking in your room for what felt like hours after Azriel’s latest rejection. You spent the whole time flipping between thinking about all the little moments that had you swearing there was something happening between you two, and each and every excuse he had made to get out of this dinner.

Was your cooking that bad? Was he tired of you taking up every one of his Thursday nights?

The two of you spent an absurd amount of time together - you ate most meals together at the house, you saw each other multiple times every day. Were you wrong?

A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts, but before you can respond, the door is opening and Cassian pokes his head in. He has a hand covering his eyes, but he’s made a slit between his middle and ring fingers, allowing him to still see.

“Are you decent?” He asks, looking around the room.

He sighs at seeing you dressed on your bed, pulling his hand away from his face as he walks in, closing the door behind him.

You giggled, “Cass the whole point is to not see someone naked.”

He rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to you on your bed, “you don’t even want to give me a peak? I’ve had such a hard day, a little skin would make me feel better.”

You laugh, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it. He lets you hit him, pretending to fall dramatically onto his back.

“Tell Rhys I loved him,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to die.

You laugh at his foolish antics, but Cassian continues to pretend he’s dead. You lean into him, about to poke his face, when he grabs your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Now come on, I’ve got shopping to do and I need your help.”

-

After Cassian had left, Azriel spent some time trying to decide how he could make this up to you. He didn’t want to force you into accepting a bond that you didn’t know about by presenting him with food.

He paced his room, his long legs gliding across the wooden floors making no noise. His shadows were combing through the house, trying to find out where you had gone after your earlier spat.

Azriel replaced with pacing with purposeful steps as he headed towards his bedroom door, the perfect solution coming to him.

-

“Thank you Cassian,” you say, squeezing his arm your hand was tucked into.

“For what? My incredibly charming presence?” He smirks down at you.

You scoff, “I felt awful earlier but you pulled me out of my spiraling, thanks.” You say, nudging him a bit.

Cassian had gotten you out of your room and the two of you walked around Velaris, mostly people watching and talking.

He hums, “well, both of my brothers are idiots,” he says, getting a laugh out of you. “They take turns on who holds the idiot stick. Today it’s Azriel.”

“Do you ever hold the idiot stick?”

“Occasionally, very rarely, I will pass it between the two of them, so I only have it for a moment or two.”

You snort, looking down at your feet. If Cassian thought Azriel was being stupid, does he see what you see?

You start to ask him, to prod him for more answers about Azriel, when he pats your hand, turning your attention to where the two of you had ended up on this walk.

The townhouse.

Your brows crease in confusion as Cassian removes your hand from his elbow, pats your shoulder, and tells you to have a good night.

You start to sputter, wanting to know why you’re here. He shrugs, “I don’t question my orders.” He gives you a two finger salute before turning around and walking away.

You turn back around, looking at the entrance to the townhouse, afraid of what you’ll find on the other side of the door, but going up and knocking anyway.

The door opens, but no one is there. A small shadow swirls around you, moving up from your feet to your face, caressing your cheek before zipping off to the kitchen.

You step through the threshold and a new shadow comes and shuts the door, another two come and help you take your coat off and hang it up for you.

You walk towards the kitchen, where you can hear the clattering of plates and some delicious aromas filling the whole house. Inside the kitchen you find Azriel, with a frilly apron tied around his waist, putting the finishing touches on two plates at the table.

“What’s all this?” You ask him, doubt creeping in that this isn’t meant for you.

“Sit, sit,” he beckons, pulling out a chair for you. You look around the room, covered in flickering candlelight and flowers. He must have been working on this for hours.

You look down at your plate, the bright colors of ratatouille catching your eye. You gasp, wanting to know how much effort he went to find a recipe for it.

He takes off the apron, sitting across from you.

“I… made an ass of myself, and I’d like to apologize first and foremost for that.” You open your mouth to interrupt him, but he holds up a hand. “Let me finish, I have.. a lot to tell you.”

He takes a deep breath, stilling his nerves. You look so pretty in the glow of the candles, and the slight concern you’ll hate him is enough to distract him, but he has to tell you this.

“There’s a reason I didn’t want you to cook for me. A few months ago we were in the library, reading, and I looked up and I watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, laughing at something in your book and I.. felt it.”

You’re in a trance, listening to him speak.

“I felt like I was dying and coming back to life, like your hand was wrapped around my heart, squeezing in time, keeping it beating. I made up some half-assed excuse to leave, because I needed to talk to Rhys.”

You looked at him, hoping your gaze would encourage him to continue.

“Rhys confirmed what I thought it was - the bond snapping. And I was terrified.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was terrified if I told you, you’d deny the bond, you’d break my heart. So I… put off telling you. I couldn’t.”

He looks down at his lap, fidgeting his fingers.

“I kept trying to tell you, then I’d chicken out. Then when you offered to cook for me, I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let you accidentally accept the bond, accept me without knowing about it.”

He sighs, “I felt awful when I realized you thought I was rejecting you. Far from it. So I’ve uh.. made you dinner.”

You finally speak, “you made me dinner.”

“I made you dinner. And dessert, actually.”

Leave it to Azriel to outdo himself by finding the time to make dessert.

You weren’t letting a single emotion show on your face, and it made a shiver run up Azriel’s spine.

After what could have been hours, you slowly smiled, looking at him, “what kind of dessert did you make?”

He pauses, “I uh made you- us, uh chocolate mousse. I made two, but I thought we could share one.”

He looks at you, still not giving anything away, “if you want to, of course.”

He shifts, your silence making him uneasy.

“If you don’t want to accept it, I understand. I kept it from you, and I’m me, loving me would be rotten work- what are you doing?”

In the middle of his rambling, you picked up your fork, getting a nice helping of food on your fork, bringing it up to your mouth.

“Well, my mate made me dinner, and it looks incredible. Why would I not want to take a bite?”

He looks at you, a rush of emotions flooding him. Surprise, confusion, elation.

“But, but I can promise you to love me, to be my mate, it’s rotten work.”

You smile, “not to me it’s not.”

You pause, “not if it’s you,” and take a bite.

His chest sings, feeling warmth radiating throughout him. Feeling love radiate through him, and he realizes that’s you.

You keep eating the food, that hum getting louder and more vibrant, until you’ve cleared your plate, and stride over to him.

You grab his face in your hands, tilting his head so he’ll look into your eyes. “If you think I am not aware of who you are, what you do, your darkest parts, you are mistaken. And if you think I will shy away from those things, you are a fool.”

He hadn’t realized he was crying until you swiped your thumb across his cheek, swiping it away.

You smile down at him, and he has never felt so loved, so whole as he does in this moment. His mate, the one person the cauldron deemed would understand him, just chose him.

He feels like that little boy, looked in the dungeon, daydreaming about being saved by an angel. And he has.

He stands up, cupping your face in his hands, “I was in love with you before the bond snapped for me. I’m not here just because the cauldron told me to be, let me assure you that.”

You smile, a heat creeping up your cheeks. “I’m only here for the chocolate mousse.”

He laughs, a genuine, roaring laugh.

You pull his face in close to yours, gazing into his eyes. “And I have been in love with you since the day after I met you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “the day after?”

You smile, “well I thought I was in love with you that first day, but then on that second day I heard you speak, and I knew no one would ever compare.”

You feel his happiness in your chest, as if his heart is also in your ribcage, yours and his intertwined, dancing through your chest together.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his mouth so close to your own your breaths are intermingling.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, his hesitation.

“Only if you promise to never stop.”

[holylulusworld]

Extreme tight places (4) - Kinktober 3

Summary: You’re stuck with a soulless Sam again.

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Warnings: soulless!Sam being his asshole self, anal sex, smut, unprotected sex, degrading, creampie, voyeurism, outdoor sex, sex in front of others, violence, possessive soulless Sam, forced cum eating (not the reader)

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Anal sex

Square filled for @samwinchesterbingo: Square 18: Plot what plot?

Square filled for @spnkinkbingo 2022 (expired): Square 1: Anal Sex

Catch up here: Cramped (1) & Tight places (2) Very tight places (3)

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

“Sam! Sam, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You desperately try to drag Sam off a fellow hunter. You don’t like the hunter, but the last thing you need is rumors spreading that Sam Winchester killed another hunter. “Sam, please.”

“He tried to touch what’s mine!” Sam is like an animal. Not only because of his soullessness but also because the hunter tried to hit on you during a get-together to celebrate the life of a deceased hunter. “No one touches what’s mine.”

You huff. It’s not like you’re together or shit. Sam is simply obsessed with fucking you. There’s no love or even feelings between the two of you.

“SAMMY!” Dean and Cas finally come to your aid. They grab Sam by his arms and drag him off the hunter. “What the fuck!”

“He tried to grope my girl’s ass.” Sam tries to apologize that he tried to beat the life out of the man. “No one touches what’s mine, Dean. Not even you.”

“Sam, get your shit together,” Dean snaps at his brother. Lately, he’s struggling to see Sam as his brother. Death brought Sam’s soul back, but they are still trying to figure out how to turn the new version back into his former self.

Sam squares his jaw. “Let go of me, or you’ll get a taste of my strength too.” Dean shakes his head. The thing possessing his brother is so unlike the Sam he raised. “Y/N, come.”

He holds out his hand for you. You could tell him to fuck off because he flirted with one of the huntresses, but it would only cause Sam to go rampant and find a reason to fight with someone else.

“Sam,” you huff when he drags you toward the back of the place, away from the crowd. “Where are we going?”

“I need to fuck you,” he states, ignoring that you wiggle in his tight grip. “You need to feel it in your bones that your holes are all mine.”

“Says the guy flirting with some bitch moments ago. You’re only angry because the guy was nice to me.” You bite back.

He stops in his tracks to look you up and down. His eyes darken, and you bite your tongue. One wrong word and he fucks you right there, in front of everyone.

“He touched you,” he snarls. “I told her to go down on her knees and suck me off if she wants my help on a hunt.” Sam shrugs. “She was an uptight bitch. Not wet and soft like you.”

“What the—?” You can’t believe Sam sometimes. He tells you he wanted some bitch to suck him off after he almost beat a man to death because the hunter dared to talk to you. “You’re unbelievable!”

“I know, kitten,” he purrs and presses you against the wall. He slips one hand between your bodies to hastily unbutton your pants. Your eyes round. Sam can’t be serious. “That’s why you’re always so needy.”

“I hate you so much,” you argue, but don’t fight his hand slipping inside your pants to pinch your clit. “Sam, not here. Let’s go somewhere else.” You know Sam is pumped up and needs to release some steam. “Please.”

“I love it when you beg me.” He presses his lips to yours, swallowing the tiny moans escaping your lips. Sam smirks when you buck your hips, silently begging him for more. He hums against your lips as he slips his index finger inside your cunt. “Already so wet for me.”

“S-am,” you whimper against his lips. “Pl-ease. Somewhere else.”

“I want them to know you’re mine,” he growls and removes his hand. You don’t argue. Fighting with Sam is a lost cause. Instead, you let him grab your hand and guide you out of the bar.

Sam leads you toward a car you don’t recognize. He twirls you around to bend you over the hood. Sam rips your still unbuttoned jeans down your legs, taking your panties with it.

“That’s how I like you.” He slaps your ass, roughly groping your globes. If you weren’t in a parking lot, he’d spank your ass raw tonight. “Always so ready to take my cock.”

Sam uses his large hand to spread your ass-cheeks. He smirks when you wiggle in his grip. You know he wants to prove your ass belongs to him. Literally. A warm liquid hits the crack of your ass, making you whimper. “Oh, kitten. This ass is mine.” He hums. “It opens up like a slutty hole to me.”

“Sam, not here,” you try one last time, but Sam throws the empty bottle of lube over his shoulder. He unzips his pants and slaps his cock against your ass.

“You’ll let me fuck this tight asshole and take it like a good slut. Maybe I’ll let you cum this time too.” Sam laughs when you hiss his name. He ignores you’re angry at him for flirting with the other woman. While you lie on the car, giving in to his demands once again, he runs his hard cock up and down the crack of your ass to get lube all over his massive erection. “You’re my whore.”

He presses the tip inside, making you hiss. It’s always a struggle to take Sam up your ass. At least he’s less impatient tonight and slowly inches his way inside. His hands grip your hips hard enough to hurt.

“Fuck, Sam…”

“Yeah, I’m going to fuck this hole open,” he growls like the possessive caveman he turns into when it comes to fucking you. “Watch me ruin her ass.”

You don’t have time to think about his words. Sam pushes you down onto the hood of the car and holds you there as he shoves the last inches inside. You’re panting because his massive cock feels good in your tightest hole.

“You’re an ass whore. I knew it.” Sam leans over your body to whisper in your ear. “Say it. Say, I’m Sam Winchester’s anal slut.”

“I’m—” you choke out a moan when Sam slowly starts pushing in and out of your ass. He barely moves his hips, only pressing his cock into you with short strokes, but you feel immense pleasure. You don’t know why, but no matter how Sam fucks you, it always feels good. “I’m Sam Winchester’s anal slut.” You breathe out, making Sam laugh.

“Yes, you are,” he pants in your neck while his hips mercilessly crash into your ass. “Always full of my cock, only mine.”

“Yes…”

“I bet you’ll cum like the whore you are with my big cock up your ass,” he taunts. “Right? You’ll squirt like a slut because you’re my anal whore.”

You should be ashamed. Sam is fucking your ass over the hood of someone else’s car. He calls you his whore, but you couldn’t care less. The bastard ruining your ass isn’t wrong. The pressure in your ass has you tethering on the edge of an orgasm.

He’s pounding you deep, hard, and fast. Sam groans in your ear, getting more excited. His desperate groans get you more excited. Your body is ready to give in to the pleasured pain. You whimper his name, telling him to cum inside of your ass.

And he just lets go, slamming one hand between your legs to swipe left, right, left, and right until you squirt all over his hand. “Perfect whore, isn't she?”

Sam pulls out, stepping away from the car to let whoever watched him fuck your ass watch his cum drip out of your gaping hole.

“Perfect hole.”

You try to catch your breath as you lie on the car. Total spend. Sam eagerly spreads your cheeks to look at his cum. He hums before thrusting one finger inside to scoop a large amount of his cum with his finger. “Come here and have a taste.”

“Dude, I’m good over here,” the man grunts. He’s holding his bruised ribs and glares at Sam. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, but I’m out.”

“I said,” Sam growls in the man’s direction. “Come over here and have a taste. That’s what you wanted, right? To fuck my girl’s ass.”

“Sam?” You slowly get up from the car and pull your pants back up. You turn around to watch the man Sam punched earlier stand a few feet away. “What the fuck!”

“Buddy, if you ever get close to her ass again, you’re dead,” Sam smirks darkly. He wraps his hand around the man’s throat and forces his finger inside his mouth. “That’s the closest you’ll get to my girl’s ass. Now swallow like a good boy and get lost.”

“You found a way?” You whisper to not wake Sam. After the fucked-up stunt, he pulled his brother, knocked him out. “How can I help you?”

“You need to distract him. Stay inside the room until Death arrives. It’s only a few hours; Y/N. Sammy will be back soon,” Dean gives you an apologetic look. “I know you liked this one, but...”

“Not after tonight!” You hold up your hand. “He risked my safety, Dean. If that guy was a little more..." You sniffle. “If he knocked Sam out, it would’ve ended badly for me, Dean. If we can bring the normal Sam back, I’d do anything to help you.

Screams echo through Bobby's house. You press your hand to your ears and try to blend out that Sam is suffering inside Bobby’s panic room.

Death brought his soul back and finally found a way to get the old Sam back too.

If only it weren’t so painful...

“It’s going to be alright.” You look at Dean, nodding. You don’t know if he wants to convince you or himself. “It must…”

The screams abruptly end. Death slips out of the room. He ignores you and whispers something in Dean’s ear. “I know, we will be careful.”

You gave the brothers time and space to reunite, promising to stick around for the next case. The procedure was a success. Sam is back to his old self.

What Dean didn’t tell you before Death got to work was that Sam wouldn’t remember your time together. The truth is, Sam doesn’t remember anything after he jumped into the pit.

Maybe it’s for the best. What you let his soulless version do to you was something the old Sam would never understand.

“Y/N, hey.” You look up from your book when Sam calls your name. He leans in the doorframe, eyes glued to your exposed legs. “I heard you helped Dean while I was gone.”

“Uh-yeah. Kinda,” you lie. It’s all you can do. Death warned you and the others not to tell Sam what happened over the last months. If you do, the consequences will be dire.

“Hmm…” He pushes off the doorframe, stepping inside your motel room. Sam slams the door shut and hums as you flinch at the sudden motion. His eyes are softer, and his behavior changed, but the smirk creeping on his face is not different from his soulless version’s smirk. “I see, you liked riding my dick.”

“What? I—what?” You splutter. He can’t know. It’s impossible. Death said Sam won’t remember a thing.

“I can’t remember much, but the videos on my phone helped me. I must say, you have been a good little slut for me.” He laughs darkly as you stare at him like a deer in headlights. “How about we refresh my memory and you let me fuck that pretty cunt and ass again?”

Tags in reblog.

[mywifealhaitham]

Could I request Dr Ratio and Aventurine being given a cat plushie of themselves made by their partner?

♡: Dr.ratio, aventurine x gn!reader, petnames (dear and doll), reader is drunk in aventurines part, kinda short I'm sorry :(

a/n: I adore these 2 so much I wanna eat them.... I hope u enjoy anon

dr. ratio

- before getting into a proper relationship the great Dr. Veritas Ratio expected many surprises, after all this was his first relationship.

- in secret he reads books about romance and observes the types of gifts normally given to one another; flowers, sweets, accessories. he isn't a fool, he knows you well but still something like this... he wasn't expecting.

Veritas stood still, eyes used to logic and reasoning, solitude and knowledge glaring into the small little plush sitting in your open palms. As he processes this he makes a quick realization; the lovely blue fur, the scowl of the face, the golden accents and the book in the cats mouth wasn't just picked randomly no, it was him. A blush spread across his face as he picks up the plush to get a better look. you're bright smile begins to fade as his silence continues but before you could properly frown a cough rumbles from the man's throat. "The craftsmanship on this plush is amazing, dear. I..." he praises your work a slight smirk on his face before he looks away from you the evergrowing blush on his face getting darker by the second. "I do appreciate it... and I suppose it is adorable." he says pacing over to you and leaving a kiss on your cheek before scurrying off, hiding the Dr. catio plush behind a book. Later in the day you don't fail to notice the way his eyes dart to the cat then to himself in the mirror, his expression almost instantly matching the plush.

aventurine

- like his fellow IPC Co worker, aventurine also expects many surprises in this relationship. he's always been terribly lonely so this new gamble of love is something he's loving so far.

- and this surprise is definitely one of things he loves about you. none has ever even dared to think of him like that, to take the time to make something that looks like him? it has his heart racing.

Aventurine was almost suspicious when after a late night doing his rounds at a local casino you called him up and asked to stop by because there's an emergency he simply needs to come help with. He could tell this wasn't life threatening by the way you'd giggle after every few words but nonetheless he'd comply to your orders and before you know it you hear a few gentle knocks at your door. As the power of a brand new open bottle of wine flows through you your feet stumble to the door and swing it open to meet the man you simply adore. "Aventurineee~! you actually came!" you slurred slightly with a grin and with your free hand you gently took his arm and lead him onto the nearby couch. "Well hello to you too doll" he smiled as let his body be weightless as you plopped him onto the couch. before he could ask what the emergency was you began talking. "sorry for calling you out of nowhere but I have a gift!" you stay speedwalking to your kitchen and grabbing a wine glass for him before pouring him some. "now wait heree~" and once again before you could speak you ran to your room and back out again this time with a small plush. he pulls down his glasses and allows himself to observe the plush you've brought him closely. when he takes it from your hand you plop down next to him and begin pointing out every detail. "lookie here! I made the pupils card suit shapes! since your eyes are so beautiful I made sure I made them justttt right" you said nuzzling into his shoulder more almost like love was pouring out of you. the smile on his face never seems to fade but he does go silent, letting you rant about whatever details you please but his mind goes somewhere else, the fact you love him and all the features he's resented this much to preserve him forever.

[tojisun]

dbf!simon is very much dear john by taylor swift coded

my goodness?? no yea absolutely!! im??? WHAT???? i cant move on, this hurts terribly

toxic!dbf!biker!simon was sent to me so i can hurt all of us and yk what? im actually sorry for this one because dear gods simon is mean

!! made simon unlikeable (ooc, even) and im really sorry for that; suggestive; age gap; power imbalance // biker!simon mlist // prev - 01, 02

simon’s late.

of course he is. when was he ever on time? when has he ever prioritized you above all else?

he said he’d pick you up at six and promised that he’d bring you the helmet that’s only ever reserved for you. it’s a pretty pink one with a little skull painted on the right top of the shell, personally customized by simon.

“reminds me of you, sweet girl,” he whispered the first time he presented it to you, grinning as though he’s the only man who’s made you feel special; as though he knows he is.

he promised to bring his bike because he said it’s faster; because he said he’s got somewhere to bring you. some place, probably in the outskirts of the city, where he can spoil you. because that’s all you are to him anyway: a secret. a fling. someone who he knows he can always turn to.

and you should’ve known that simon’s promises are ephemeral. that all that they’re good for is to make your stomach swoop and your heart flutter, long enough that when the betrayal hits, it hits harder. you should’ve known that his promises are but cacophonies that get smothered in the wind because simon doesn’t follow through. he never has.

but you never learn, huh?

too busy being in love, too busy being starry eyed. too busy counting down the hours, minutes, seconds because for some reason, for some stupidly heartbreaking reason, you think he loves you back. you think that he even can.

you think that once simon comes, he’ll be all apologetic, begging for your forgiveness as he whimpers his i’m sorry’s and his i’ll do better’s on your forehead or on your cheeks or even on your lips. that he’ll cradle you in his arms like the precious jewel that you are, careful and tender, before helping you get on his bike.

but an hour has already passed and the next hour is just eleven minutes away from being completed, still, simon has yet to show up. your messages remained unseen and your calls continued to be unreturned.

you’ve bitten your lips raw, not enough to bleed but just enough that you feel the sting whenever you sigh. you’ve taken to walking around the lounge area of the library to stretch your legs out and to give your numb butt a break, occasionally bumbling towards the water dispenser to grab a quick drink, because you wished that all these little things can eat up time faster. you wished that if you just distracted yourself enough, then time will speed up and simon will finally come.

still-

“hello everyone, the library will be closing soon. i repeat, the library will be closing soon. please proceed to the checkout for those who want to bring home items, otherwise, thank you so much for coming in today! we open at 09:00 am tomorrow!”

oh.

you gather your things with a sigh, pretending that the back of your eyes aren’t stinging as tears begin to prick and pool. you ignore your trembling fingers as you swipe at your phone again, checking to see if simon’s called or messaged, only to feel the remaining pieces of your heart shatter at seeing nothing from him at all. you throw your phone back in your bag before zipping it close and slinging it on your back. you stomp out of the library, your breaths stuttering at the weight of your heartache.

you fall into a quiet autopilot as you get on the bus and trek back to the dorms. you remember that your mom had asked if you were going to come visit soon and you decide that perhaps what you need is a change of scenery for now so you dig for your phone just to tell her you’ll be home for the weekend, dutifully ignoring the desire to check if simon’s replied.

(it takes a heartbeat before you do check, thrums of morbid anticipation being chased away by the lack of notifications from him. this seals your need to flee back home.)

you mumble a hello to your roommate and to her girlfriend before locking yourself in your room to pack a duffel bag. you continue to pretend that you are not hyperaware of your phone as you stuff your bag with clothes, your laptop, and your books.

a knock brings you back to reality.

“hey lovie?” your roommate asks, her voice trembling from exhaustion.

“yeah?” you respond as you pad towards the door and open it for her. she smiles when she sees you. “what’s up?”

“someone’s downstairs, buzzing for you.”

“oh,” you say because you already know who it is.

“yeah,” she replies, standing up taller in sudden attentiveness, her previous sleepiness dispelled at hearing the dejected timbre of your voice. “you want me to chase him off?”

“no!”

you cringe at the ferocity of your reply, which makes her flinch, and you awkwardly clear your throat when the moment settles.

her girlfriend peeks around the corner to check on you two. “everythin’ alright?”

“yeah,” you say, coughing. “i, uh. i got it, thanks.”

you wave off their concern as you snag your keys from the counter and slide into your shoes before taking the elevator back down. you worried your bottom lip again, your brows furrowed as reality rushed back into you—simon’s come to your dorm. simon’s come to you.

you play with your fingers as you step out of the building, your lungs constricting at seeing simon parked just a few feet away. his helmeted head is turned towards the entrance of your building, and even though he’s got his face hidden by the visor, you know simon’s seen you.

still, he doesn’t stand.

he doesn’t make any effort to come to you. so you stay there by the building, blinking your eyes at him, waiting for simon to come close. for simon to be the one to take that first step into apologizing—because why else would he be here if not for that? if not for a pitiful and pathetic apology which you will digest as you are starved of any inkling of affection from simon?

but simon continues to remain still and even if you are desperate for everything he has to give, a bigger part of you knows this is too much. so you turn, sniffling as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes, and move to walk back into your dorm building.

“love, wait!” simon calls, but you remain facing the building even as your ears pick up the sound of scuffed boots against gravel, speeding towards you.

you whimper when simon’s hand closes around your wrist, tugging so that you are facing him again. his helmet’s still on but the visor’s pushed up and you bite a whine when your eyes meet his stormy ones.

“i said ‘wait,’ sweetheart,” simon murmurs, his hold tightening before he tugs you ever so closer to him. close enough that you see the lines on his face and the lone scar that runs from the side of his temple before disappearing into the tresses of his hair. close enough that you smell a faint vanilla sticking to his leather jacket. close enough that you see a littering of faint hickeys on his exposed neck.

“fuck you.”

simon’s head rears, not expecting the vitriol from your voice. he barks out a laugh.

“where’d my sweet girl go?”

“i’m not your fucking sweet girl!” you snarl, shaking his hold off of you. “i’m not your fucking anything!”

simon sighs like you are being difficult on purpose. like you are the one at fault. like you are the one who made him wait for two hours as he hanged onto the promise that you whispered to him nights ago. like you are the one who didn’t show up and forced him to find his way back home even amidst his heartache. like you are the one who chose to fuck someone even when you knew he was waiting for you.

because simon knew. he wouldn’t be here in front of you if he didn’t.

and isn’t it almost laughable how you thought he was going to apologize?

“love, is this about-”

“just leave, mr. riley,” you breathe out, the fire of anger that burned within you was extinguished into quiet sputters of your agony. “i made it back anyway. you don’t have to be here anymore.”

simon huffs a humourless laugh, the sound almost resembling a growl instead. “oh, so i’m ‘mr. riley’ now?” he pulls you even closer. “what happened to calling me ‘simon’? or even ‘si’?”

he leans towards you, his helmet bumping your head. “what happened to calling me ‘daddy’?”

simon steps back far enough that your hand misses his head, a hit that would’ve been futile anyway given his helmet.

you choke on your sob, the sound ripping from the base of your throat and tumbling into the cool air. and even then, even amidst the display of your heartbreak, simon continues to just stare you down.

“fuck you,” you repeat, your voice a quiet rasp.

simon hums, his boots crunching against the gravel as he turns. then, he says, “call me when y’r ready to talk to me like a mature person, kid.”

you run back into your building, not bothering to respond to him or to watch him drive off. you barely make it into the elevator before you crumple to your knees, your head dizzy with the intensity of your misery, your heart shredded into pieces.

made myself tear up too yey!!! @prttyangelz u got me sobbing teehee <333

[dlysthings]

Little crush

AN: Hi! This is the first time I am posting sometning here and i hope you like it. I got the idea from @darylsgarden. Any constructive critisism is apreciated. Also english isn't my first language so i apologize in advance for any gramar and punctuacion mistakes.

Word count: 678

Daryl stood in the buzzing high school hallway ,fidgeting with his locker, watching you. There you were. With your back to him, happily chatting with your friends, laughing at whatever one of your girlfriends has said. With your shining hair, framing your beautiful face, an angel like smile grazing your lips. God, you were perfect.

So beautiful. Nothing like him. Not some white trash reddneck.

 He turned around. He’d been watching you for months. Weeks and weeks of secretly sneaking glances at you in class or in the hallway. But only that. Nothing more.

He didn’t have the courage to go and talk with you, only to be met with rejection and mocking laugh. He couldn’t. And what other reaction could you have. He was just damaged goods. What could you possibly see in him beside that?

Thinking that, he went into class. He entered the classroom and plopped down in his seat. Next think he knows you sit in the seat beside his. You glance at him and shoot him a small smile.Fuck.

He turns the opposite side, his face growing redder by the second. There is no way you just smiled at him, no. You probably were looking at someone else in his direction. That must be it. No other reason, he tries to convince himself. No way she is smilin' at ya, dumbass

The whole day you were somewhere around him. The table beside his at lunch, the desk next to him at class. Always smiling at him. At some point he decided you knew about his crush at you and were mocking him. But how could you know? He’s never told anyone. He didn’t even have someone to tell it to. So this couldn’t be it. So why were you smiling at him?

~~~~~~~~~~

Later the same day Daryl was at the supermarket in town. He needed to grab a few things to make himself something to eat. He was just about to go and check out when he saw you.

You were wearing a red sundres, that was making you look even better. You were triyng to reach an item from a higher schelf and failing miserably. You were on your tip toes, with a streched out arm, fingertips barelly missing the item you were trying to grab.

That was his chance. He can go and help you,starting a conversation. But could he. He wasnt like his older brother,Merle,full of confidence. But if he didn't do it, there probably wasn't going to be another oportunity to leave a good first imresion. Fuck it he thought.

He went to you and grabed the item you were strugling to get. Handing it to you, he looked for the first time at your face from that close. You were even more beautiful from closer. Eyes with vibrant colour and such perfectly shaped features. Your eyebrows were lightly raised in slight surprise.

But then you smiled at him. Such a sweet smile, directed directly to him and only for him. You were gorgeous. that was the only thought in his head until he heard your sweet voice.

"Thank you,Daryl" you said in that sweet voice of yours. You were looking expectanly at him. Respond ya dumbass! Cant ya see she's waiting for you?

"N-No problem. Yur welcome" he said and baschfuly ducked his head, scraching his neck. He stood there not knowing what to say, luckily you said something.

'Well, again, thank you. I will see you tomorow at school." you said and with that you squezed his hand, that was still outstreched to you. After that you went your way, turning around once but Dryl didn't saw you.

Daryl was satring at his hand that you had just squezed. He couldn't believe it. You, the girl of his dreams had just touched him. He could still lightly feel your hand on his. I'm never wasching my hand again.

[some-stars]

for today's poolverine-adjacent thoughts, i offer you: Major Character Death! please scroll past if you reasonably want to avoid this.

so most of the time i just ignore that logan is aging slowly while wade seems literally immortal, because most days i don't have the emotional bandwidth to deal with the implications. but i do have a longstanding soft spot for fic about grief and picking up after and finding ways to go on after having and then losing the love of your life. so sometimes i like to think about--they get a good ~200 years together, and it's the happiest either of them have ever been and they grow into and change each other and are so, so in love. and then logan dies.

and for a long time--decades--wade is just...not really in the world. sometimes literally (he spends a good eight years holed up in a cave mostly asleep, letting the sensation of starving to death become soothing white noise) and sometimes in the sense that he'll eat and get out of bed and maybe even find some kind of work to do, but he isn't there.

but eventually--because he is human, and this is what happens to humans--he connects with someone again. not in the same way (never the same way, it's never going to be the same) but he finds himself taking care of someone who needs help, or running into the same person often enough that he starts to respond when they try to start a conversation with him, or just--someone. somewhere. that buried rusting part of his heart creaks to life, the way he was sure it never would again.

and god, how badly i want a story about the slow agonizing process of coming back to life, realizing that despite knowing how it'll end, despite everything, he does still want to reach out and build that connection. and he can. his heart can do that, still. and how beautiful and horrible it is that he can feel this way again even though logan is gone. i want him to get to a place where he can tell his loved ones stories about logan, those centuries of funny and sad and sexy and stupid stories they made together. and i want him to have that again, with someone else. and then someone after that, and after that, and forever.

[pedropascallme]

u said u are always looking for a reason to write jim smut so let me deliver bc i’m actually so fixated on this movie it’s CRAZYYY!!!!! anyways i would like like a build up to a confession kind of? like there’s so so much romantic and sexual tension and it just like breaks and yeah😭😭 idk if that makes any sense but yk!! ok thank u so much!!! you are amazing dude

In Our Perfect Present Tense

Pairing: Jim x f!Reader

Summary: "And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?"

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, fingering, praise kink, Jim can be soft!dom if I say so!! Allusions to canon typical violence, I know Cillian Murphy is 5'8 but Jim is 6'2 in my mind, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: Max you make my heart go badumbadumbadumbadum (good) I hope this is to your liking <3 Also continuing to cross tag my Cillian fics because my Jim fics rarely gain traction so we are trying some METHODS.

The cottage was so quiet.

You could hear Hannah shift under the blanket and sigh in her sleep, and though seeing her so peaceful made you feel a pang of protectiveness, watching her chest rise and fall, your mind was elsewhere. Maybe you were still in London, or Manchester, or anywhere else; maybe this was all fake and you had died somewhere along the way. Was this Heaven? Or maybe Purgatory, given that nothing seemed to have changed much.

And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?

No. You closed your eyes and his face flashed across your mind; eyes you wanted to drown in and cheekbones sharp enough to make you bleed. Maybe that’s why you kept him around in the first place. You’d never had to help him, save him from the congregation that chased him down the road; never had to take him to your hideout in the underground. At first, (and you knew this for a fact, at least) it was simply because Mark…bored you. He was cheesy and had a chip on his shoulder, and you didn’t like how he looked at you—didn’t like that he seemed to expect you to fall in love with him. Jim made a good buffer. And it helped that he had such kind eyes that seemed to be full of fear and morbid curiosity, and that he was, in every sense of the word, pretty.

You hadn’t been sad when you’d had to kill Mark.

But once you had made it clear to Jim that you didn’t want to fall in love with him, either, your snap judgement fogging your mind, you thought that was the end of it. Thought maybe he would go out like Mark did. And was it really your fault that Jim assumed you didn’t care about him? You didn’t. You wanted him to think you didn’t. Wanted him to think that he was essentially on his own when you ran up the stairs to the top floor, with his head splitting in pain and your legs going as fast as they could carry you. But when he came up to you that night to apologize to you, thank you, hold out an olive branch, it was then you realized that you felt isolated. And, yes, doomsday will do that to you, but it wasn’t just that. It was that even when humanity was rearing its ugly head, Jim still had the time to recognize and respect you; he was willing to put you first in a way nobody would’ve done even if their life didn’t depend on it.

You felt so guilty that night, touching yourself under the covers with everybody else just a few rooms over.

It was one thing to be wandering around the desolate city with him as your only company, but once you had Frank and Hannah (and a car) you felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope. There was a glimmer of something behind Jim’s eye when you were eating out on the countryside after ransacking the supermarket—and it could’ve been the way the light was hitting him, or the way he laughed with Hannah, or the fact that he was eating fruit for the first time in weeks, but you thought maybe it had something to do with you. Maybe he had figured out that you did care. About him and about the state of things and about what the hell you would do if there was any sort of relief from running away. You thought about kissing him then, and he might’ve, too. There was a certain tenderness in the way he curled up next to you that night, under the stars.

In another life, he might’ve done it for reasons other than keeping warm.

And then, of course, that all came crashing down. It had been too good to be true, and in retrospect you hated yourself for allowing any harm to come to your small posse. You got out alive, but the hope you had was minimal, at best. Was alive good enough anymore? Was alive good enough when you’d fought off every evil you could think of in the span of 12 hours?

No. It wasn’t until Jim turned around, soaking wet and bleeding, that you realized that being alive was no good if he wasn’t there with you to enjoy it. You’d wanted to wrap yourself in him, to feel the sweat and blood caked on his chest and kiss him until you lost consciousness. Instead, you crumpled to the floor in the red dress that had been forced upon you, hugging yourself to his shins and begging him to tell you he was ok. It was mortifying, only made slightly more bearable when Hannah lobbed a bottle over his head. At least you knew there was still humor to be found in the worst of situations.

Shortly thereafter, when Jim got shot, you were certain that it was all over; you might as well follow him out. Maybe you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Hannah crying silently next to you as she floored the gas and begged you to stay. To do something. For once you felt like you had people worth fighting for other than yourself. It made you dizzy.

Which brought you back to the present.

There were two rooms in the cottage; both were damp and smelled like the lint from a dryer, but having a bed was enough. You had discussed the sleeping situation the night of your arrival, and there had only been some mild bickering.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. S’ok.” Jim remained gentlemanly throughout, but it was apparent, to you, at least, that the person with the bullet hole through their stomach should be able to sleep comfortably.  

“Hannah and I will take one, you’ll take the other.” You were blunt, dancing around the subject of who would end up sharing by deciding then and there to divide it based on sex.

“Wha—” Hannah began to protest before deciding to shut her mouth.

“It’s really not that big a deal,” Jim stood his ground, “I’ll find something to rest on.”

“Absolutely not.” And that’s where you ended it. Saving face, dismissing any deeper urges, leaving no time for Hannah or Jim to propose a different arrangement.  

But now that you were somewhat settled, it felt wrong to be in this room. The wallpaper was a reflective pink, and it felt too bright even in the pitch-black night. You couldn’t get comfortable, and all you could do was mull over every past interaction you’d had with Jim. Every interaction, and the way his mouth moved when he spoke, and the way he smiled at you, and the way he had quite literally killed for you—nearly been killed for you.

You felt hot. Nauseous, even, to the point where you felt that you had to move around or take a walk or do anything to feel more at ease. But it just so happened that you felt the most at ease around Jim.

You tiptoed across the floor and into the hallway. You almost didn’t bother knocking on the door, but felt that you at least owed him that decency.

“C’m’in.”

You peered into the room, allowing yourself a small view of Jim’s shirtless figure splayed out on the bed. You smiled, feeling shy out of nowhere.

“Just wanted to check on you.” You excused yourself, not wanting him to think it any more odd than it already was for you to be in his doorway at midnight. “You feeling ok?”

“Better than ever.” Jim crossed his arms behind his head, sitting up against the pillows. You could see the bandage on his abdomen, and his skin covered in a ray of moonlight.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, patting the mattress to encourage you to sit with him. You closed the door behind you. “Why’re you really up?”

“Honestly?” You paused to build tension, leaning in slightly, “Hannah snores.” Jim chuckled under his breath. “And…and I don’t really feel at home in that room.”

“Would you feel more at home in this one?”

“Maybe…”

“’Cause if you’d like it, you and Hannah could have it. ‘V’always wanted pink wallpaper, anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, “No, that’s—it’s not that.”

“Then…?” Jim tilted his head slightly, and you looked down and away from him, inhaling deeply.

“Can I stay in here tonight? With—with you?” You could feel your pulse in your throat and though he responded almost immediately, you felt as though hours were passing.

“Sure, f’course.” Jim nodded; eyes wide with eager bewilderment. You swing your legs over the mattress, straightening yourself out beside him. You looked up at the ceiling, lying on your back and waiting to fall asleep.

“Closer.” Jim whispered.

“Hm?”

“Y’can come closer. If you want, I mean.”

“Oh…yeah.” You shuffled closer to him. Somehow you ended up spooning, his hand draped hesitantly over your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his breath blowing against the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Comfortable?” He was still whispering, as if he would wake the crickets if he spoke any louder.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah…” You both fell silent again, and you wondered if he could feel the tension, too, or if it was something you had just made up. You turned over to face him.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, though his eyes were closed, and you thought maybe he had already fallen asleep.

“For what?” His eyes were still closed when he responded.

“For—you know…” You reached out to graze your fingertips over his bandages, withdrawing it just as quickly when you realized that what you were doing was so forward.

“You didn’t shoot me.”

“I didn’t stop you from getting shot.”

“Not much you could’ve done. Three of us and more of them.” He opened his eyes, “Plus, you drugged Hannah, so just the two of us, really.”

You buried your face into the pillow, “Was trying to help.”

“You did.” Jim reached out to goad you from your hiding spot. “Been nothing but helpful since I met you. Consider this me returning the favor.” You managed to peek an eye out from the pillow to look at him smiling at you. He was so gentle. How could a man who had been comatose while the world was thrown into shambles remain so empathetic?

“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, barely audible when the words came out through the pillow.

“Didn’t want you to get hurt, either. Think I went to all that trouble for myself?”

“No.” You brought your head up to fully look at him.

“Exactly. You would’ve done the same for me.”

“You say that with so much confidence.”

“Cause it’s true. Cocky, but it’s true.”

“It is.”

“True?”

“Cocky,” you smiled when he feigned defeat, “but also true.” You quieted again, keeping eye contact with one another. Jim’s smile faded slightly.

“Why did you help me?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In the first place, by the gas station—why did you help me?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “I needed the company.”

“You had company.”

“I needed company I would enjoy.”

“What if I wasn’t enjoyable?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I was willing to take that risk.” You raised an eyebrow back at him, mocking his curiosity and his pushback. “And…I mean, plus, you were…I d’know. Tragic. And pretty.”

“Pretty?” His other eyebrow shot up.

“And tragic.” You giggled. “It’s not like I saw you tearing down the street screaming and thought that you only deserved help ‘cause you were good looking, it was just—it’s why I kept you around.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stop yourself from sounding too sincere, unsure if Jim was willing to recognize the attraction you had toward him. Unsure of whether or not you were willing to admit it right here, right now.

“You liked me.” Jim teased.

“I like you,” you clarified, “Present tense.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, opting instead to look down at his wound once more. He gawked at you, grinning. Placing a hand on your chin, he redirected your gaze to his face.

“How long have you been holding out on me?”

“What?”

“How long’ve you been wanting to say that? Not since day one, hm? Since we went to my parents’ house?”

“Didn’t want to say it,” you huffed, “wanted to help you stay alive.”

“C’mon, all that talk about how you didn’t care if I fell in love with you? Cared more than you let on, I knew it. Could’ve saved us so much time if you just came out with it.”

“Shush.” You tried not to dwell on his words, the realization that, this whole time, he was waiting for you.

“Say it again.” He gleamed, “say it again.”

You took his hand from your face, holding it in your own. “Jim,” you brought his hand to your chest, “I like you.”

You couldn’t take a breath before he was on you. You felt his lips first, plush against your own, and then his hands over your waist and his legs tangling with yours. For someone who had almost bled out less than a week ago, he was shockingly quick on his feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the release of weeks’ worth of tension that had been festering inside of you when his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned, hands grabbing at any part of him you could reach: You felt his chest against your own and ran a trail down his spine with a finger, feeling him shiver at your touch. He ground his hips into you slightly and you reached for his arms, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.

“Knew it.” He whispered when you pulled away for air. “Knew it.” He began sucking on your neck, running his tongue over your pulse point and licking stripes down your throat. You gasped at the feeling, still trying to touch him wherever you could. You found yourself stroking his jawline while he sucked bruises onto your chest, feeling the way his cheeks hollowed when he made an especially strong mark.

“Jim—” You pleaded, trying to touch him, feel him, all around needing him. It was almost all too much.

He returned to eye level. “Mm?” He kissed your neck again, soothing over the fresh hickeys. “Tell me what you need.”

“You—need you.”

“C’mon,” his grin returned, “specifics.”

“Please,” you needed to feel everything, everywhere, “fuck me.”

“God, sounds so pretty coming out of that mouth.” He stood up from the mattress, pulling you up slightly to allow him to disrobe you. It didn’t take much effort; the threadbare clothes you were trying to pass off as pajamas had already practically disintegrated the moment you had put them on. He shucked his bottoms off before retaking his place on top of you in bed.

“So fucking beautiful,” he kissed you again, “so, so pretty. Wanted to make you feel so good f’so long.”

Feeling confident, you cupped his cheek in your palm, “touched myself thinking about this.”

“F—when? Thought about me while you touched yourself? Tell me.” It was a breathless demand, and you could feel his erection throbbing above you.

“The night in the apartment. Came on my fingers, came so hard while I thought of how good you’d fuck me—oh!” Your sexy display was cut short when you felt his fingers brush your clit.

“Yeah? Touched right here and thought of how nice I’d fuck this pussy?” You whimpered at the way he massaged you just right, and his words only added fuel to the fire. “Should’ve just asked me to take care of you, baby, would’ve helped.” God, he was wicked. Such a good man, and so, so wicked for speaking to you like this. You arched your back, and he took the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt. “Fuck,” he huffed, delighted by how wet you were for him, and your eyes rolled back, “get yourself this wet? Or is it just me?”

“You, fuck, Jim—it’s you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Cocky bastard.” You managed between whines and gasps.

“You love it.”  He continued to push his fingers in and out of you, and a delightful squelching noise filled the bedroom. “Fucking beautiful.” He kept at it for a while longer, enjoying the noises you made for him and the way your face contorted when he hit an especially sensitive spot. When he pulled his fingers from you, you sighed, feeling the low of being empty, until he brought the wet digits to your mouth and encouraged you to clean them off for him. He let out a low groan when you began sucking, using your tongue to gather your slick off from in between them. “Yeah, good girl.”

He slotted himself between your thighs, and you could feel the drag of his cock over your stomach. You looked down, wrapping a hand around him and ogling him; so long, so beautifully outlined by thick veins. He gently grasped your wrist, pushing your hand back onto the mattress.

“Wanna make this last.” He half-joked. He kept your arm pinned under him, and you could feel his tip exploring your folds, until finally he pushed himself into you. You let out a shaky, breathless moan as he shallowly thrusted into you, working you open to take him as deep as you could. When he bottomed out, he leaned his forehead against yours, and you could feel the stickiness of sex and sweat on your skin.

“Good, yeah?” He was still being smug, though ensuring you were comfortable. You felt devious, rolling your hips against him and grinning in response, earning a choked “fuck” from him. “Dirty fucking girl.” He pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back into you, forcefully enough that you felt your back drag against the bed. Your tits bounced as he rocked his hips into you, and he took the opportunity to grab one in his hand, taking the other in his mouth.

“Jim!” You couldn’t remember your own name, could barely remember who you were or how you got here; all you could think was Jim, Jim, Jim. “Fu—uck, oh my god, Jim!”

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood?” He was incapable of being serious even in the most intimate of moments, knowing full well that the people in this house were the only living souls for miles. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who’s fucking you?” Your lips parted, letting out small moans and whimpers of his name with every thrust.

You could feel his fingers on your clit again, and the feeling was electric; maybe it was because you had wanted him for so long, and tried to deny it for almost as long, but you’d never felt this good—never felt this perfectly sated. The way he kneaded your swollen bud while pounding into you hard enough to make the bedframe shake, the way he whispered such filthy things into the skin of your breasts, the way he wanted you too.

“Gonna—Jim, I’m gonna cum!” You tried to move in sync with him, but it was all too much; he was everywhere, and it was going to be your undoing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to fuck you deeper. He leaned over you, tracing his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your face in one hand.

“Cum for me, baby. So good, my perfect girl, cum on my cock like this.” You were as good as gone. You felt your legs tighten around his body at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. You dug your nails into the skin of his arm, and he growled at the way your body responded to him. “Yeah, like that—just like that, sweetheart.”

You were trembling, dripping down his cock and unsure of how to rationalize this amount of pleasure in the midst of end times. Who cared, anyway? You felt fuzzy, barely registering Jim’s words as his strokes became messier and rushed, catching up to you with his own high.

“Want it inside,” you mumbled through your haze, “please, inside.”

“Can’t fucki—can’t say that baby, can’t risk it.”

“Please…” You knew how stupid it was, knew that he would have to say no, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“When we get out of England—when we get out of England, I’ll fill you up as much as you want. Yeah?” He slammed himself into you, and his words bounced around inside of your head: “When we get out,” “as much as you want.” If you weren’t so spent, you’d cum for him again from that statement alone. “Promise I will, whenever you want it, baby.”

“Mm.” You sighed contentedly at his assurance. “Tummy.”

“Yeah, good girl, gonna paint you with my cum.” He groaned when you reached up to brush your fingers down his happy trail.

“Give it to me. Please, Jim. Needed it f’so long.” Your mouth hung open, sensitive and sore from his cock and his hands, and somehow still so needy for him, desperate to see him to completion. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and letting your moans fill his ears as his hips stuttered and he pulled out. You felt his knuckles against your stomach as he stroked himself, finally feeling the warmth of his spend land and spread across your abdomen with a long moan of your name. You stayed like that, both of you breathing heavily, Jim lying on top of you. The gluey feeling of his cum on your stomach and your own between your thighs only heightened when he sat up on his elbow, looking down at you to appreciate how pretty you looked after being fucked out, and you could see the strands of cum dripping between your bodies.

“So beautiful.” He kissed you again, and despite the passion from the last kisses still being present, he was significantly gentler with you in your bleary state.

You blinked up at him, smiling through the fog in your brain, and hugging him close to you. “Gonna have to change your bandages. Covered in your own cum.”

“But what a way to go, right?” He laughed, and you buried your face into him further. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Need a towel?”

“Would it be gross to sleep like this?”

“Gross? No. Uncomfortable? Maybe.”

“I’ll take my chances. Too tired to wash off.”

“As long as you’re alright.” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, maneuvering himself to look down at you while you were pressed to his chest.

“Feel amazing.” You reassured him. “Should’ve said something earlier.”

“No,” Jim pet your hair, smoothing it down over the back of your head, “this was perfect timing.”

“Perfect timing.” You murmured his words back to him in agreement.

[d0zuki]

“True Beauty” -"Fate always plays tricks on us"

⋆˚࿔ Pretty bag from Kuro𝜗𝜚˚⋆ :: a bag to hide your letters

― ʚ summary ɞ ― day 11 of fluffprill handwritten letters

― ʚ words ɞ ― 347

― ʚ warning ɞ ― designer found no danger in her creation

― ʚ author note ɞ ― I'm going to be honest getting handwritten letters is a cute idea

―𐙚 Jing Yuan

Hello dearest.

It's me your partner Jing yuan, work is Xianzhou Luofu been hard may I say but that doesn't matter how have you been? I heard you took Yanqing out to buy him a sword, I'm grateful you want to grow his... passion even more but please don't spend too much money for him, it's best to help him learn the world isn't perfect but still I want to thank you somehow,next week I have some free time how about we go out for dinner?

-Your lover Jing Yuan

―𐙚 Gepard

Hello there love.

I know it may be my 4th letter for you today but for some reason I find comfort in writing them for you, I went to see Serval today and she told me about a restaurant she saw I was wondering if you want to go there with me of course if you are too busy or don't like the restaurant we don't need to go, we can go somewhere else I certainly don't mind, I don't have much time to write we going on an expedition I talk to you soon

-Your love Gepard

―𐙚 Dan Heng

Hi darling.

How's Peacony? I hope it's going well and that you and the rest of the Express are fine, if you find something interesting there you want me to see feel free to tell me or note it somewhere I check it out when I'm more relaxed about everything that happened in Xianzhou Luofu, though if there is something you want to see if it's in the date bank feel free to ask that too I will find some information just for you

-Your Beloved co-travaler

―𐙚 Welt

Hello there [Y/N]

How are things going up in the express? I hope everything is alright and both you and Dan Heng have no problems up there, stuff has been happening here in Peacony though I won't spoil it too much for you once I'm,Himeko,March and Trailblazer done with Peacony I will tell you everything, but more importantly please look after yourself eat and drink well

-Welt

[sweetprfct]

The Hate Formula

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Living in the same building, across from each other shouldn't be much of a problem, right? But how come you and Joe tend to always push each other's buttons every day? Is it because you both truly just hated each other or is it because there was something more to it?

Author's Note: Well, look who finally decided to open up the last chapter and finish it. I'm so sorry for the delay! Anyways, I just want to thank you all for supporting this series. This one had been a lot of fun! Please let me know if you'd like to get tagged on my next one. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: 18+

Wordcount: 2.9K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

“Oh, shit!” You cursed under your breath as you ran from the bathroom and towards the kitchen.

Wes and Sara, who were sitting on the sofa, turned their heads, their eyes following your tracks. You have left the mixer on for too long while you have occupied yourself in the bathroom, trying to calm yourself and hold in the tears that were welling up in your eyes. You have been trying to distract yourself by baking a cake but for some reason, your mind had wandered somewhere else and ended up at the thought of Joe. 

You tried your best to look strong in front of Wes and Sara because you didn’t want to worry them, so you left the mixer on for a while, thinking it was going to be okay while you go and collect yourself. However, you have taken too long and totally forgot about the fact that you were whipping some whipped cream. Now, here it was. 

Turned into butter. 

You turned off the mixer and took a deep breath, setting your hands on your hips and shook your head. 

“There goes the whipped cream turned into butter.” You complained under your breath, grabbing the bowl and dumping it on the bin.

“What is she doing?” Wes turned to Sara.

Wes wasn’t used to seeing you like this yet. He only had known you for a few weeks. Every time he had seen you the last couple of days, you were in the kitchen baking like you were catering to some birthday party. 

“Stress baking.” Sara replied, laying her head on Wes’ shoulder. “I don’t know what she has done to the other two double layer cakes she made the last two days.”

“Wait, those two cakes were already gone?”

Sara nodded her head, “Yeah, I don’t see it in the fridge, so I don’t know where it is.”

“Do you think she ate it all?” 

Sara laughed softly, gazing up at Wes. “No, she just bakes. She barely eats whatever she bakes.”

It has been two weeks since you haven’t seen Joe. He had been trying to contact you ever since that night, but you kept ignoring him. Whenever he saw you in the middle of the hall, you’d make up some excuse not to see him. You didn’t really know what else to do because your heart was still in pieces after what he had told you. How could you face him after that? How could you act like it was just nothing? He only wanted to hook up with you, and you wanted more than that. You had to cut it off before this could hurt you even more. 

“Hey.” Joe gave you a small smile when he saw you coming home from work one night.

“Hi.” You replied, nonchalantly as you unlocked your front door.

“How are you?” Joe asked. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

It was small talk, and you couldn’t even look at him. You kept your eyes on your front door and forced yourself to not look at him at all.

“Yeah, I've been so busy at work.” You opened your front door when Joe grabbed your forearm lightly.

“Is everything okay?” 

You nodded your head, “Yeah, sorry I’m just really tired.”

You gave him a small smile before you slipped your arm away from him and entered your apartment. Seeing his face made your heart swell every time. You didn’t want to keep hoping when it came to Joe. You have already gotten your heart broken before, you weren't about to experience it again. 

So, here you were stress baking and trying to distract yourself with something else but somehow, it wasn’t helping at all. It usually would but this time, even baking wasn’t helping you mentally. 

“Hey, do you need some help?” Sara interrupted your thoughts as you poured heavy cream in the mixing bowl.

“No, I'm fine.” You said, your attention focusing on the mixer in front of you. 

“Hey,” Sara set a hand over yours. “I’m worried about you.”

You turned your attention towards her, finding Wes standing behind her with a concerned look on his face. He set a hand on Sara’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

“Joe’s been asking about you.” Wes added.

You raised your brow at Sara as she took a deep breath and said, “He knows.”

You slumped your shoulders, walking towards the dining table and pulling up a chair. You wiped your hands on your apron and sat on the chair, letting out a sigh.

“He thinks he did something wrong.” Wes said. “I’ve never seen him like this with anyone.”

You played with the fabric of your apron and hung your head low. Your mind had been running a thousand thoughts ever since you left Joe’s apartment that day, and you thought maybe Joe would be okay with you disappearing from his life. After all, you two were just hooking up right? Why would he care this much? It was easy for him to let go of those other girls he had before. 

“I just need… space.” You got up from the chair and excused yourself.

Wes and Sara watched you slide your apron off, setting it on the kitchen counter and walked towards your bedroom. Sara and Wes didn’t know what to say or do besides just let you and Joe solve your own battles at the moment. 

“Hey,” Wes greeted Joe that night when he had gone back home.

Joe was sitting on the sofa, his eyes focused on the television. Wes grabbed himself a bottle of cold beer from the fridge and settled himself next to Joe. He could see the concern in Joe’s eyes and the fact that he wasn’t even focusing on what was on the television said a lot about what he was feeling. 

“I think I found a flat a few blocks away.” Wes said. 

Joe immediately turned his attention to him, his eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“Well, you know I was only here temporarily.” Wes stated. “You need your own space, mate.”

“I don’t mind you being here.” Joe shrugged, his attention back on the television.

Wes side eyed Joe for a moment before reaching for the remote from the coffee table and muted the television. He turned his body to face Joe as Joe threw his head back on the sofa. He already knew what Wes was about to say right before the words could slip off his lips. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, Wes.” Joe groaned softly.

“Seriously, what the fuck happened?” 

“I fucked up.” Joe shrugged. “When did I ever not fucked up?”

“So, what did you exactly tell her?” 

Joe took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment and said, “She asked me about the different women that I brought in here before, and I told her it was because I had commitment issues.”

Wes’ eyes widened from his explanation. “So, you’re telling me that you still haven’t told her that the only reason why you were doing all that was because you wanted to get over her because you fucked up when you first met her two years ago, and you have been trying to get over her since, but you can’t?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Joe exhaled a sharp breath. “I fucked up… again.”

“Talk to her.” Wes insisted. “Talk to her and tell her the truth!”

“She won’t even talk to me, mate.” Joe shook his head. “Just let it go. It’s over. I fucked it all up.”

“You’re not the only one who’s feeling like shit about this.”

Joe turned to Wes, his brow raised at him. Wes gave him a look as if he didn’t know what he was talking about. They both knew Joe knew exactly what Wes meant when he said that.

A conversation between him and Wes had flashbacked in his mind when Wes had first moved in the apartment building. Before Wes and Sara even dated. Wes had moved in the building because of the job opportunity he had accepted, and he was staying in Joe’s apartment temporarily. Joe had told Wes about you when Wes had witnessed Joe grumbling about you one night. 

“Who is that girl anyway?” Wes had asked him one night. “Why are you two always arguing?”

“I just like to tease her.” Joe chuckled softly. 

“You like her?” Wes’ expression had turned into excitement when he had seen the emotions that washed over Joe’s face. 

“I’ve been trying to get over her.” Joe murmured under his breath. “But every time I walk out my front door, she’s right there.” 

“Well, yeah. She lives across the hall.” Wes said sarcastically.

Joe rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant!” 

Joe shook off the memory of that conversation and saw Wes’ encouraging smile slowly creeping up on his face. 

“Talk to her, please?” Wes said. “Tell her the truth.”

Joe bit his lower lip and got up from the sofa, looking out the window for a moment. Wes had a point. Joe had been trying to get your attention ever since you ran out of his apartment a couple weeks ago, and he needed to tell you the truth. 

Grabbing his jacket, he gave Wes a thankful smile before walking out the door and walking across the hall. Knocking on your front door, it was Sara who immediately greeted him at the door. 

“Oh, hi.” Sara smiled. 

Sara could tell that Joe’s eyes were studying the empty apartment behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she pursed her lips and looked back at Joe. 

“She’s at Central Park. She said she needed some space.” 

Joe nodded his head and right before he could walk away, Sara called out his name. He paused in his tracks as she ran back inside the apartment for a moment, grabbing an umbrella and handing it to him. 

“It’s supposed to rain in a few minutes.” Sara said. 

Taking the umbrella from her, Joe gave her a thankful smile and said, “Thank you.” 

“Good luck!” Sara called out as she watched Joe walk away. 

As soon as Joe walked out of the apartment building, the dark clouds were already covering the city of New York. Light raindrops started falling from the sky as he made his way down the sidewalk and down to Central Park. 

The park was 840 acres, but he knew exactly where to find you. You had mentioned it to him once from one of the nights where you two would just cuddle and talk about anything that could fill the silence of your bedroom. 

He held the umbrella over his head as rain started to pour and made his way towards Bethesda Terrace. On a bench, he found you sitting alone under the old architecture, watching the raindrops fall from the sky. You gazed up at him as he slowly walked over to you. 

“Hi.” He murmured. 

“Hi.” You whispered. 

Getting up from the bench, you stood in front of Joe as he stared at you for a moment. He took a deep breath and gave you a small smile. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. 

“Looking for you.” Joe replied, shrugging lightly. “What are you doing out here in the rain?”

“I needed some space.” You said, looking down at your feet. 

You wondered why Joe walked all the way here but then again, from the conversation that you had earlier with Sara and Wes, you sort of had an idea why. You took one step closer to him and took a deep breath. 

It was time. 

You needed to ask him this time. You needed to at least tell him how you really felt. 

“I heard what you said.” You muttered. 

“What exactly are you referring to?” Joe asked, taking a step closer to you. 

“The three little words that you probably only said because you were in the moment.” You fiddled with your fingers nervously. 

You could feel your heart beating right out of your chest as Joe stared at you. You didn’t know what was going on inside his mind, and it was killing you that he was just standing there without saying one word. You could only hear the raindrops hitting the pavement and the silence blanketed between you two felt like eternity. 

“Did… Did you mean it?” You asked, your voice shaking slightly. 

Suddenly, a small smile tugged on Joe’s lips. His eyes were filled with love and affection for you. 

“I meant it.” Joe stated. “I meant it with all my heart.”

You felt your lungs give out when Joe finally answered your question. Joe cupped your cheek with his hand, brushing your cheek softly. 

“I love you.” Joe murmured. “I love you so much it consumes every part of me. I love you with all my heart.” 

You hitched your breath, staring into his eyes. 

“But what about what you said…”

“The commitment thing?” Joe raised his brow. “Yes, I have a commitment issue but that was before I met you.” 

“R…Really?”

Joe took a deep breath and nodded his head. “I’m sorry if I made you take that the wrong way. The reason why I’m always bringing girls is because I just wanted to get over you. I know it was wrong. I didn’t mean to hurt any of them at all, but I wasn’t like this before.”

You bit your lower lip and waited for Joe to continue. 

“When I first met you when you first moved in, I fucked up.” Joe explained. “I stupidly brought home a girl the night before because I was drunk, but I didn’t mean to lead her on like that. Then, I met you the next day, and I thought I was still having a hangover because I saw this beautiful girl moving in across the hall—”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly as Joe did too. You shook your head, taking both of his hands in yours and intertwining your fingers together. 

“I’m serious.” Joe laughed. “Then, I went ahead and fucked it all up.”

“Yeah, you did.” You joked as Joe laughed with you, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry.” Joe murmured. 

You shook your head, smiling softly before pressing your lips against his. Smiling through the kiss, Joe kissed you back softly and pulled you close in his arms. 

“I love you too.” You murmured the moment you parted from the kiss. 

Joe smiled, grazing his nose over yours as you both chuckled together before he pulled you into a tight hug. Burying your face on Joe’s shoulder, you took a deep breath, feeling relief from all the overthinking thoughts you have been thinking of. 

Cupping your face between his hands, Joe grinned happily at you as he kissed you again, letting your surroundings blur around the both of you. The sound of the raindrops were the only thing you could hear as you smiled through the kiss. 

“Maybe I’ve loved you all this time too.” You laughed softly, letting your forehead pressed against his again.

Joe grinned widely, kissing your forehead softly before intertwining his fingers with yours. Holding the umbrella over the both of you, you both walked back towards the apartment building. Your eyes admiring the raindrops that were falling from the sky. Raindrops softly dropping from the leaves of the trees. The wet pavement shining as you both continued down the park. Your heart pounding in your chest as you enjoyed Joe’s soft fingers intertwined with yours. 

It almost felt like a dream.

Stopping in your tracks in front of the building, you gazed up at the tall skyscraper and smiled softly, remembering the first day you had moved in here with Sara. 

Who knew two years ago, it would be the beginning of something special in your life? Even if you didn’t know about it then. You couldn’t help but smile when you remembered all the times the both of you had bantered in the hall.

“What is it?” Joe paused in his tracks, looking over his shoulder. 

You shook your head and entered the building with him. “Nothing.”

The look on Wes and Sara’s face was something you would remember forever the moment you and Joe had entered your apartment. They were in the kitchen microwaving some popcorn when they had turned around and saw the both of you entered, fingers intertwined together. 

“Oh, good!” Wes exclaimed happily. “Finally!” 

You laughed softly as Sara quickly ran towards you and embraced you happily. You chuckled softly, wrapping your arms around her body and hugged her tighter. 

“Thank you.” You whispered to her. 

“I’m so happy for you.” Sara whispered, squeezing you softly before parting from the hug. 

“Does that mean we could do a double date movie night now without you two arguing?” Wes joked, shoving a piece of bread in his mouth. 

You looked over your shoulder and saw Joe shaking his head as he grabbed one of the throw pillows from the sofa and chucked it at Wes. You and Sara laughed softly as Joe walked up behind you, rubbing both of your arms softly. 

Looking around the room, you smiled happily before the four of you settled on the sofa. Wes browsed through the movies on the tv screen, while Joe had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his side and planting a soft kiss on your hair. Sara gave you another happy smile before moving herself close to Wes and laid her head on his shoulder as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders. 

In here, you were warm and safe in Joe’s arms. In here, you were with the people you loved. 

In here, you were finally home.

The End.

*********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @munsonluvrr @ali-r3n @quinnyficsy @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf @mvnsonlover @mdurdenpitt @siriuslysmoking @blueleonor @bejeweled13swiftie @reoalessandra

[everythingelseisextra]

Treasure The Memory

Part One: Everything Is Fine

Part Two: Commit To The Bit

Part Four: Petty Criminal

Description: A couple days after the hose incident, you find yourself feeling empty, and set off to find Thomas and apologize. Warnings: Language, alcohol Word Count: 2292 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @globetrotter28 @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Twelve horses. From six in the morning to six at night, you work without stopping. It’s your purpose, your drive, the only reason you have for getting up in the morning. The only reason you eat or drink. There’s an aching kind of emptiness that begins after the car drives away, that makes the time go by slowly while you work through the horses. Heaviness that pushes your muscles to work harder than usual, an odd sense of carrying something. But, still, you put your head down. You have work to do. You don’t have time to fantasize a life beyond what you trudge through. You don’t have time to imagine things had gone differently. 

You don’t.

But on the second day after, the weight is the same. You wake before sunrise and find yourself expecting to see him watching you ride in silence again, observing. You fill buckets and clean stalls and turn out and all the while, the back of your mind stumbles off somewhere, looking for the dawn to break like it did two days ago, like some groundhog day. You were given a splash of color in the long span of gray, and now you can’t forget what it was like. Now you can’t stop yearning for the boldness, the attention. 

That night, you lay in the twin bed shoved into the corner of a tiny room, and you stare at the night sky through the cracked window. Cool air caresses your face, and you sit up to look out. You see only the shadows of the barn and the void of the countryside, all-consuming darkness. Here, you think, is where everyone else’s ghosts come to haunt. Here is where the forgotten come to waste the rest of their lives. Here is where I will live, and here is where I will die. 

No. 

You stand up and walk the two steps to your wardrobe, pulling your clothes out and scrambling to put them on. Whatever you plan, whatever strange scheme, will present itself to you as you move. You can’t be like this forever. You can’t keep being fine, fine, fine, until you’re ready to go and all you can look back on is mediocrity. You can’t keep going out and waiting for someone to ask you who you are, what you’re about, whether you’re okay. 

You need to be the one to ask. 

You rush out to the barn. This late at night, no cabs will come to you, not when you’re so far out. Wired, almost manic with desperation, you halter your quickest horse, a mare named Secret, and forgo the saddle to ride bareback. The night is still young, and if you get there soon enough, get there fast enough, then maybe, maybe you’ll find him. Gripping your mare with your thighs, you cluck and urge her forward, loosening your reins and pushing your calves into her sides. She shoots off, and suddenly, you’re coursing through the night, the wind whipping your hair, the sound of hooves pounding the only thing you can hear. 

The first few minutes, exhilaration runs through you, and you breathe in the wild rush of the darkness. Then you feel the cold, and the dryness waters your eyes, and your skin grows red and chapped from the constant battering of the wind. And still, Secret gallops, and you cling to her back and duck your head and clutch her mane in your shaking hands. 

City lights blink softly at you through the mist of early night. You sit back and talk quietly to the mare, bringing her from a gallop to a canter, then to a trot, then, finally, to a heaving, breathless walk. Her sweat seeps into your pants, her fur covers the inside of your thighs, and your own sweat drips down your forehead. Still, you walk on, her hooves clattering on the stone streets. Eyes glint at you from alleyways. The city murmurs its quiet song. And, you, an interloper walking boldly into an unknown territory, hoping. 

You remind yourself: hope is a thing with teeth. 

The Garrison stands solemn in the darkness. The lights inside silhouette figures moving, dancing, banging their hands on tables and chairs. Tonight is Saturday night. Closing your eyes, you steady your breathing. Cold penetrates your bones and you find yourself trembling, coming and going in waves. You run your fingers through your hair, like it could be tamed, and slowly slip off the horse. You find an old hitching rail a few blocks away and tie her, offering her a bucket of water. You leave her there, in the dark side of the alleyway. You won’t be long. 

When you open the double doors to the Garrison, you’re flooded with golden light and feral singing and warmth. You still tremble, but less so. The chills are chased away by the faultless sense of revelry in the air. You push through the crowded sitting area as though fighting your way down an overgrown path. Limbs swing into your way, people stamp their feet, and a rousing chorus starts up. 

You stumble through to the bar and lean on it, facing towards the seating area. Men on tables, men dancing, men drunk and throwing up in buckets. Men howling like wolves, men grabbing their women, men cheering each other on. No sign of the man you came here looking for. Your heart sinks. 

The barmaid laughs from behind the bar while she walks towards you. She leans over, smiling faintly. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m—” Your voice doesn’t carry; she leans closer to listen. “I’m looking for Thomas Shelby.”

She points immediately to a slim door, closed, but that opens into a small, octagonal room. “I wouldn’t interrupt.” 

You hesitate. “Who’s he with?”

“His brothers.”

“Thank you.” You nod to her, then push through the drunken party to stand in front of the door. You breathe in whiskey and cigarette smoke and body odor, and breathe out. Then, cautiously, you knock. 

If there’s a response, you don’t hear it. Throwing caution to the wind, you place your hand on the handle, take another breath, and push it open. 

Three pairs of eyes stick to you; two angry, one surprised. You step inside and close the door behind you. Silence, so thick it seems to buzz with the energy of their gazes. From their seats behind the table, they look you up and down, and you’re suddenly in a spotlight, caught in the blindness. No one speaks. 

The man on Thomas’ left breaks it. “Who the fuck are you?”

Your eyes drop and you mouth the words; no one.

“I said,” The man stands awkwardly, scooting out from behind their table and approaching you. He’s considerably taller than you, leaning down to loom over, speaking far too close to your face. You catch the smell of whiskey and beer on his breath, and your eyes lock onto bits of food stuck in his mustache. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Enough, Arthur.” Thomas leans back in his seat, arms loosely crossed, a cigarette in one hand. 

“I thought you hadn’t taken a woman since—”

“I haven’t.”

“Is this the one that sprayed you with the hose?” The man on his right grins at you. “My kind of girl.”

“Wouldn’t let someone spray me with a hose.” Arthur steps back, though you keep yourself shrunken away, a little too overwhelmed by what you’ve stepped into to unravel yet. “I’d knock ‘em out and spray ‘em meself.” 

“That’s enough.” Thomas stands and walks out from behind the table, brushing past you to open the doors. The riotous sound of the bar fills the small space again, and you step away from the door, trying to get away from it. “John, Arthur, go join them.” 

“No, I want to hear what hose-girl has to say.” The man still sitting, presumably John, stays sitting, eyes going straight to Thomas’. “I’m staying.”

“John.” Thomas’ head tilts slightly, his eyes flicking to you, then back. “Get out.”

John looks at him a moment longer, smile fading, then shrugs, stands, and walks out. Arthur follows. Thomas closes the door after them, and you close your eyes, relieved by the quiet. 

“Sit down,” Thomas says. You hear his footsteps move past you, then the sound of him sitting back down. After a moment, he adds; “Please.”

You open your eyes. His hands lay on the table in front of him, his cigarette between his ring and pinkie finger. His dark hair sits as though he styled it, and you become suddenly aware of your appearance, the wildness of your hair, the goose pimples still on your skin, the slight shiver of your body, the sweat dried on your temple. His eyes are on you, expectant, and so you nod and sit on the other side of the table as he asks. Your gaze remains downcast.

In silence, he pours you a small glass from the bottle of amber whiskey, and you take it, slowly sipping the smooth liquid. Once you place it back down, and settle into your seat, he speaks. 

“If you came to ask for forgiveness, it’s already given.” His voice rolls off his tongue, a plodding sort of sentence that you can’t help but get wrapped into. “Past in the past. We can go our separate ways.”

You look up at him, head still tilted down, and you toy with the rim of the glass, running your fingers along it. Your voice is quiet, not quite even enough. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” 

“No. When you said I didn’t know who you were, what did you mean?” You look back down, unable to hold your gaze steady with his for long. 

He rolls his shoulders and sits back, hands still laid across the table. “I’m the lead of the Peaky Blinders.”

“The razor blades.”

“Aye.” He inclines his head to you.

“And you guys do… what?”

“What needs to be done.” 

“That’s very vague.”

“We’re a group of well-intended people who do very bad things to achieve our goals.”

You smile faintly. “I’m supposed to be scared of you.”

“Most people are.” His eyes search your face. “You’re not.”

You shrug. “Truth is, I’m scared of everyone. I’m so used to it that it doesn’t make you special.”

He brings his cigarette to his lips, takes a slow drag, and exhales a plume of smoke. “So you are scared of me.”

You take another sip of the whiskey, hoping to avoid answering. Your body shivers, despite the warmth of the drink inside of you, burning as it goes down. 

“Smart thing to do now is go home, feed those horses of yours, and forget you pointed that bloody hose at me.” He sits up, leaning towards you. The space between you shrinks with the intensity of his gaze, and you sit back, meeting his eyes. “No need to get mixed up in the shit I live with.”

“I don’t want to forget it.” Something about him sparks some bravery in you, helps your voice come smoothly, helps your mind connect with your body. Or maybe that’s the whiskey. “It might’ve been… unfortunate, but it was the most fun I’ve had in— well, in years.”

“Treasure the memory, and get out while you can.” 

You look down. This conversation is not going the way you’d hoped. You play the last cards you have. “I won’t sell you Draco, but I’ll let you ride him.”

Silence. Your gaze shifts upwards. One of his eyebrows is slightly raised, his cigarette paused halfway to his lips. 

“What do you want?” He gestures at you, still holding the cigarette. “Why do you want this so badly?”

“I don’t know. I guess I want something different. I don’t want… to die in a house I feel trapped in. I don’t want to—”

“I’m not here to play games.” He stands, starts for the door. He stops, looks over his shoulder at you. “I’m not here to listen to girls who don’t know what they want.”

He opens the door and begins out. Sound rushes in, a deluge that almost catches you off guard and drowns you. Instead, you stand and project your voice. “Thomas.”

He pauses, looks back at you, slowly closes the door. His eyes are cold, calculating, a glint in them that tells you he’s teetering on a line between anger and amusement.

“I want freedom,” you say, finding some strength to your voice. “I want to feel like I’m more than my past, and more than the money I have. I want to have people care about me. I want to not be alone anymore.”

I want you.

“And,” you let out a short breath. “I want a do-over. I want you to come ride with me. Without spraying you with a hose.”

“A do-over,” he repeats, one hand still on the doorknob. 

“Yes.”

He considers you, blue eyes sharp, but not as cold as before. “Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Okay.”

His gaze falls to the door beside him, and, almost imperceptibly, he takes a breath. “You ready?”

You nod and walk forward, moving towards the door. 

“Wait.” He steps in front of you, blocking your way. You stop short, a foot away, and your eyes trail over him, marking his positioning, ready to dart away if needed. 

He takes off his coat jacket and holds it out to you. “Wear it on your way back. Don’t need you getting sick.” 

You take it, and offer him a small smile. “Not so scary.”

“Don’t decide yet.” He opens the door and the world floods back to you. As you walk out, you hear him say, “Goodbye, No One.”

[1-800-local-slut]

rio getting to know shy reader but realizing she far from that now that’s she’s getting comfortable with him.

-🪡

He's Right

I hope you like this! I made it hella suggestive at the end. Please let me know what you think! I just started this show Rio is literally my baby daddy but I'm only like four episodes in so I'm if it's too out of character.

Likes and reblogs are very appreciated!

Pairing: Rio (good girls) x shy! black! reader

Warnings: cheating, mentions of traumatic past, cursing, suggestiveness at the end, reader has a boyfriend

I need him in a way that isn't natural, I need him in my draws NOW.

______________________________________________________________

"Can I help you with anything sir?" Rio glanced up, his sharp eyes leaving the book he was examining.  The Lord of the Flies or some shit. He was sure he read it in school. But that didn't matter. What mattered was the woman standing before him. His eyes flicked to her neckline, seeing the star shaped necklace around her chest. That right there was perfect, telling him everything he needed to know about her relation to his target.

The woman was the younger sister of King Jericho. Otherwise known as some lame ass pimp who made the mistake of stealing from Rio. And no one steals from him and gets aways with it.

He still remembers how he was sitting with Marcus in a McDonald's drive through. Marcus was eating chicken nuggets, getting barbecue sauce and shit all over his mouth. Rio was telling him to take it easy, then he heard chiming. His phone rang, and Mick told him that their man went ghost. And when they couldn't find him, that meant they couldn't find Rio's money. And THAT was a problem.

So to make a long story short, Rio had to go the long way and go to his family. Mom sent him and Mick packing, dads dead. Only person left was his sister. And that led him to the gorgeous brown skinned woman before him.

"Of course you can, mama. I need help, I'm looking for King." His eyes scanned over her entire body, looking for something, anything, that could get him some help. Her brown eyes, and long eyelashes blinked at him but they didn't show fear or recognition. Instead she stared patiently waiting for him to continue. Nothing, time to try something else.

"Is that a series? Or an author? Do you know the genre?" Trying her best to do her job, he watched her reach into her side for her walkie talkie. So she didn't know about the King part, time to check if she knew about Jericho.

"Nah, it's none of that. I'm looking for Jericho." And there it was. The second the words left his voice in his usual charming manner her eyes filled with panic. Goosebumps appeared on her brown skin and one of her hands flew to her hair. He noticed for the first time that it must be a wig, black hair was in waves down her body and parted down her middle. For some reason her shiny hair was oddly enticing to him. Her teeth sunk into her plump, glossy lips and Rio's eyes flickered over them.

"Like...from the Bible?" Her soft voice was like music to his ears. If only that sentence wasn’t so stupid.

"...The Bible." He repeated while narrowing his eyes. Either he was being played for stupid,which was not a smart thing to do or she was stupid. He wanted to believe the woman he just found attractive even for a moment wasn’t an idiot. 

“Nah girl. I think you know what I’m talking about.” Placing the book that was still in his hands on the table behind him. Her chest was heaving quickly and she was clearly beginning to panic. Rio moved his eyes up to Mick, who was looking at a cookbook with Snoop Dogg on the cover. With a wave of his two fingers, Mick began to intercept her escape.

“I don't, I'm sorry. I don’t think I can help you, maybe you should check somewhere else.” Slowly turning on her heels, she walked head first into Mick. His solid chest stopped her, and nudged her glasses further up on her face. Stepping back she softly groaned and readjusted her lenses.

“Now, this looks like an interesting book. Can you tell me what it’s about?” Rio asked, sitting down and Mick led her to put her plump behind, that Rio noticed when he saw her through the shop's window. She nervously took a seat. While clenching and unclenching her hands on her skirt, Rio watched her with observant eyes. With a glance, he motioned to the book attempting to get her to tell him the truth. With a shaky breath one of her manicured hands reached for the book.

“It’s Lord of the Flies. It revolves around this group of British boys who are stranded on an uninhabited island and try to govern themselves. Things go bad really really fast.” Her brown eyes met him once more and he smirked. In response, she looked down at the table and snuck two looks at him.

“Oh nice nice, it got a nice ending n shit?” With a swift nod, he hummed. He kept his eyes trained on the golden star dangling from her chest, probably bought with Rio’s money.

“Alright, here’s the deal. Your brother’s a bitch. He stole from me and ran out, and I need to find him. And I need you to tell me where he is.” She swallowed thickly. 

“And who exactly would you be?” 

“My name ain’t important moma. Just know, I know you. I know your mom, I know your auntie and your grandma, I know your boyfriend too. You mom is vicious, she sent my ass packing and told me to try you next.” Her eyes got wider and wider with each sentence. He’d probably be shocked too if his own mom sold him out. Her brother had always been trouble for her. At least that’s what he gathered. She’s had to get him out of trouble more than once. Mostly out of trouble with men, going on dates and what not for his sake. No way they weren’t talking any more. 

“Look, I don’t know anything about my brother. I haven’t talked to him in like 3 years! I can’t help you. Whatever debt he’s got with you, I can’t settle it.” With a scoff and a sigh, Rio rolled his eyes lightly. Her eyes went wide at his laughter, her finger digging into her nails. She was afraid of him. He didn’t like that, but that brother of hers seems  to have gotten her involved with a lot over the past few years.

“Relax, ma I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just need you to tell me where he is.” Her head shook quickly, her hair flying around wildly. She was still denying contact.

“That’s a nice necklace. You enjoying 21?” Her face went stiff. Her mouth opened slightly to respond, her glossy lips parting. Then they shut quickly as he saw tears well up in her eyes. He was right. The necklace was sent to her apartment by her brother exactly one week ago for her 21st birthday.

“I can’t help you. I don’t know where he is, this didn’t have a return address. It came in an Amazon bag! I mean, if I could I’d help you but I can’t do anything for you gentlemen.” She was trembling in her seat, and two tears escaped her eyes. But if she could receive something from him, she could learn exactly where he was. And given he had no leads, he had to settle for asking her to find out for him. 

She was crying like he had threatened her, and he partially imagined what type of people she had been around to warrant a reaction like this.

“Look ma, I just need you to stop crying. Can you do that?” He asked and she nodded, wiping tears from her face.

“I can’t just let you go though. Your brother sent you something and I need you to find out where he sent it from. That’s it. Tell you what, put this book on hold for me. Imma be back tomorrow, with enough to pay for it. Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I just need you to learn this for me.” He slid out of his seat, leaving the trembling woman there and she placed her face in her palms in dismay.

______________________________________________________________

“Shit! What the fuck Rio?! You just break into my fucking house, you couldn't give me a phone call?” Growled the woman in a  slightly drunken anger. She turned on the lights next to the door and kicked off her heeled shoes. His eyes looked up and down her curved figure and she glared at him. Rio let out a laugh and his head lolled back on his shoulders. He was sitting on the back of her couch, petting her black cat who purred gently. Rio already found out that her cat adored anyone who fed her. 

“Well yeah baby. We still haven’t found your punk ass brother.”  Her eyes rolled hard into her head, and she threw her purse down and came around to the couch. Plopping down on her couch, Rio looked over at her soft skin covered by her golden dress.

It had been about two months. Two months since Rio went into the bookstore she worked at. Two months after the third day he entered the shop and she informed him that she found him. Then when he got there and found Jericho skipped out once again. And from there, something about her kept Rio coming back to bother the shy woman. Except she wasn't what he thought at first.

The woman slouched on the couch right next to him was vulgar, loud and proud, abrasive and more. She cursed at him, cursed out the TV, cursed out her mother and grandmother and boyfriend. She cursed out Rio. She was perfect for him. She was nice to him, despite their off putting first meeting. She put him in his place when she felt he needed it. She wasn’t afraid to tell him to shut his goofy ass up in her exact words. But still, sometimes he’d look at her and she looked just about ready to fold for him. And Rio liked that shit.

Now in a golden mini dress that she wore, with body glitter all over her breast was enticing Rio. She smelt like a mix of vanilla and a bar. In truth, if she could find her brother for him he didn’t care anymore. He could find him on his own with the clues they found at his last known location. In fact, soon enough they’d get their final location. He just liked bothering her. And it wasn’t like she was even bothering to look for him anymore. Last he asked she told him to suck her dick, she wouldn’t be searching for shit. 

“What’s wrong baby, you have a shitty night?” He asked, taking one of his large hands and cupping her face. He noticed her thighs pressed together with intense pressure. A smirk came across his face, and ran a thumb over her stained lips. She leaned into his touch and he waited for his answer.

“My boyfriends being a cunt again.” She sighed and her cat jumped into her lap, patting his paws on her soft thighs. Rio wanted to do that too, boyfriend be damned.

“Oh yeah?” He asked his hand itching down to her neck and his pinky scraping over the chain of that star necklace. That same necklace that pushed them to meet. Her eyes stayed glued to his, as she glanced up at him with wide eyes.

“He’s going on about not trusting my friendship with you. Then he told me to get the fuck on, since I didnt want to dance at the club. He was like ‘oh you rather dance with that other nigga?’ and I was like  ‘he’s not a fucking pussy, he could probably dance better than you’ so he told me to fuck off and I left him and told him not to come home tonight. You’re the other nigga in question. The niggas trippin, he keep bitching about it. He says he knows you wanna fuck me. He’s being a bitch, it’s making me want to cheat on him.” Suddenly he smirked at her. She raised an eyebrow, still feeling the heat of his hand on her throat and rubbing her thighs together.

“And what if I told you he was right?” His hand was now lightly around her throat, and he brushed pieces of her curly afro out of her face with his free hand. Slowly she began to process his words. Then a wicked smile crossed her face and she licked her lips.

“You should do something about that then.” Her voice now low and seductive, as he saw sparks of mischief in her eyes. He leaned in and pressed his lips against her soft ones. They pulled away for a moment and he lightly squeezed her throat harder. Licking his lips, he tasted the liquor and her strawberry lipgloss.

“I’m about to show you what else I’m better than his ass at.”

[seenoversundown]

Insidious : Seven

Jake Kiszka x Rory (fem oc)

Warnings: drinking, language, subtle illegal behavior, subtle nudity, Jake is a man after all. (I don’t think I missed anything but feel free to dm if I did!)

Word Count: 2.8k I think idk

Author's Note: I— 🤭🫠 have fun babes!

Albuquerque, New Mexico | Day 1 

After the night we had, all of us slept in. When I got up, Josh and Rory were sitting in the front of the bus, sipping on coffee together. I had chilled out after talking to Sam for a bit, but she was already tucked away in her bunk by the time I went to sit with the boys. 

Our show wasn’t until tomorrow night, so we had all day to kill. Fortunately for us, the hotel let us park there early, we just couldn’t check in. The three of them take off to grab something to eat, and I don’t know what possessed me to linger behind with Rory. 

“You don’t have to hang out with me, you know?” She says, walking into the bathroom with her little makeup bag. 

I wander over, leaning against the doorframe, looking at her in the mirror, mumbling, “I know.” 

“Are you just gonna watch me do this?” She asks, making eye contact through the mirror. 

My arms folding over my stomach, I hum, “Mhm.”

She just laughs to herself before opening the bag, and starting to pull various things from it. Watching as she just gently rubs a few things into her face, I could see the slight redness on her face. Did she cry? 

“It’s weird to do this with an audience,” she says, peeking over at me. 

Knowing that she was actually upset bothers me. Not that I’m mad she knows what happened, she probably needed to know about it really. I just.. wish she could have figured it out on her own. The last thing I ever want to tell someone is that kind of information. 

I’ve been in enough situations before where I’ve watched men do heinous things involving women and wasn’t able to help. Now that I’m in a position where I can handle myself in a fight, I’m not going to sit by and watch anymore. She may piss me off, but I’m not going to let her get taken advantage of like that. 

“Whoops,” I let out, still watching her as she takes her time. Truth be told, I find it a little comforting. 

Grabbing a different brush, for whatever reason, she asks, “So, what’s the plan for tonight?” 

“The guys are figuring out where they wanna go right now, so your guess is as good as mine.” 

She chuckles quietly, breathing out, “Well, okay then.” 

We sat in a semi-comfortable silence for a bit, just the sounds of her opening and closing products. 

“Do you get sick of being on tour?” She asks, startling me. Frankly, I had zoned out by that point. 

Clearing my throat, “Um, sometimes, yeah.” 

“I looked up what you guys had done before and it seems like a lot,” she tells me. 

She looked us up.. she probably felt like shit after what I said to her. 

“Just lucky, I suppose,” I chuckle. 

Hours pass and all of us find ourselves at a bar nearby, per usual. The vibes in this one seemed decent so I have to give the boys credit tonight. 

Ever since Danny found that Ruby girl, he’s just been Sam’s wingman when we go out. Not that Sam really needed help getting girls attention, he has an aura about him that just caused heads to turn. It’s beyond me, they don’t live with him. 

I wander around with Josh after we grab some drinks. Rory decided to follow us around, which made sense since she seemed to gravitate towards Josh. 

The two of them whispered to each other as we found somewhere to linger. I couldn’t help but watch Sam try to pick up girls, of all nights— not tonight, bud. Please. 

“How’s that beer?” Rory pipes up, getting my attention. 

I look at the bottle I’m holding and it’s already practically empty, telling her, “Apparently, it’s hitting the fuckin spot.” 

Making her laugh, which is an improvement from last night. She sips on her drink and then turns to Josh.

It’s been a while since we had any sort of girl around us like this. She was the last one and I think we all needed time before anybody else joined us after that. Though it was nice when Ruby visited, she really is a sweet girl. Incredibly innocent from what I’ve gathered— or was innocent. 

“I think I’m gonna go grab a new drink real quick,” Rory tells Josh, and I glance over. 

“Do you want another?” Josh asks, grabbing my now empty beer bottle. 

I nod, “Sure, whatever you’re feeling.” 

Keeping them in my line of sight, I watch the two of them go up to the bar. It’s only a couple minutes before I see her shooing Josh away. He comes back with two glasses, holding one out for me. 

“You didn’t stay with her?” I ask quietly. 

He shrugs, “She told me it was fine.” Pausing to sip his drink and then following with, “Plus, I could feel you burning a hole in the back of my head with that stare of yours.” 

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” I breathe out. Looking around quickly, asking, “Can you figure out where the other two are? I’m trying to make sure nobody gets too loose before..” 

“I’m on it,” he says with a salute. 

Trotting off to go find Sam and Danny, I find myself watching Rory at the bar. She really is a pretty girl and it’s hard to deny it. I don’t know what it is about her specifically yet, but something is just captivating. 

Alternatively, I finally see my brothers emerge from the crowd and Sam is chatting up a tiny little blonde. She definitely seems into him, which isn’t shocking. The moment she touches his arm I can’t help but laugh to myself. If she only knew. Watching them has me entertained for a few minutes at least. 

When I look over and Rory seems like she’s searching for someone as this guy talks to her. She’s been nursing the same drink for a while and the fact she’s holding it so one of her hands is over the top, she’s clearly nervous. 

Moving a little closer, she spots me, letting her eyes get wide for a second. She looks back over to this guy and takes a little step back. Ahhh, she wants to be rescued this time. Quickly drinking what’s left in my glass and setting it on a random table, I walk towards her, waiting for her to notice. 

The moment she saw me, I could tell she was over whoever this person was, but couldn’t get away from him. Trying to decide what to do as I’m walking over to her, she turns her head when she sees me, her hand reaching out towards me with a smile. 

“You made it,” She says, in an overly happy tone. “I missed you.” 

Oh, okay, lay it on thick then. Feeling her hand slide around my waist, I pull her into me, her head tilting up slightly to look at me, as I tell her, “I know, I’m sorry baby. Work was crazy.” 

Glancing over, I reach my hand out, “Hey, I’m Jake. You are?” 

“Oh, uh, Matt,” he hesitates, shaking my hand.. sort of. “I didn’t realize–” 

Smiling at him, I cut him off, “Oh, it’s okay, bud.” I glance at her and then back to him, her hand lightly scratching my back as I say, “A girl this beautiful– I can’t blame you for wanting to talk to her.” 

I wasn’t anticipating her next move, but she turns into me, her face close my throat and she lets out, “Aww, babe.” 

“I’ll just-” Matt points behind him, turning away. 

Giving it a second and then whispering, “He’s gone.”

“Ugh, thank you,” she mumbles, pulling back from me a bit. Her hand grabs mine before I can pull it back, and she just.. holds on. “He just kept talking and wasn’t getting the hint that I wasn’t interested.” 

Distracted with the way she’s casually just tracing the veins in the back of my hand as she talks. I can’t help but look at the drink next to her and how she hasn’t drank almost any of it. 

“I just don’t want.. that.. to happen again,” her voice is small as she says it. She looks back up at me, her stare is soft, almost scared. I look  at her for a second, I notice the way it almost looks like she has gold mixed into the brown of her eyes. 

“Hey,” I mumble, my thumb barely grazing her wrist. “I won’t- I mean.. none of us are going to let anybody do that to you, okay?” 

She just chews on the inside of her lip, like she isn’t sure what to say. Glancing over, I see the time on someones phone before they lock it, realizing it’s just late enough. Looking back at her, I can feel the uncomfortable anxiety coming off of her. Now’s your chance. 

“Do you just want to go back to the hotel?” I ask her, moving a little closer. “It’s okay if you do.” 

She looks back at me, “I guess you guys don’t really need me here, right?” 

“I’ve hardly had anything to drink, so I can wrangle them later,” I tell her, hoping she takes the bait. 

Letting out a deep breath, she asks, “Can you come with me?” Pausing for a second, but then quickly adding, “Just like until I’m there, then you can leave obviously.” 

“I can if you want.”

“Please?” 

She holds onto my hand as I turn and start walking toward the exit, pulling my phone out to let Josh know what’s going on. 

Me: hey i’m bringing rory back to the hotel, let them know to be ready 

Josh: okay gotcha

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, I couldn’t decide if she was still nervous or just uncomfortable talking in an uber. Either way, I walked her back inside, wandering to the elevator. Standing on opposite sides of it on the way up to her room. 

She whispers, “Thank you, by the way.” 

“Yeah, of course,” I mumble back. 

Walking down the hall and finding her room, she lets us both in. She flips all the lights on, and seems to nervously walk through the room making sure nobody else is here.

“Are you always this timid in hotels?” I ask, a slight chuckle coming out with it. 

She whips her head around, telling me, “Well, usually I don’t have rooms to myself so it’s less scary. But, lets be honest here, I’m not winning any fights.” 

Watching her pull her arms up and pretending to flex, I feel corners of my mouth twitch, fighting the urge to laugh at it. I spit out, “We may need to work on that.” 

“Why?” she flops down onto her bed after successfully checking the entire room. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have said it like that. “That’s what I have the four of you for,” she giggles out. 

Looking at the floor for a second, I let a small laugh out, “Hah, yeah.” 

My phone vibrates in my pocket, I slide it out to check. 

Josh: give us like 10 mins, well be there. 

Me: just lmk when i can stall in here 

“How late do you guys normally stay out?” She asks, pulling me out of my phone. 

Oh, you don’t wanna know. I mumble, “Ehh.. maybe like three at the latest.” 

She taps her phone, lighting up the lockscreen, she tells me, “Well, don’t feel like you have to sit here.” 

“No, it’s okay,” I start. Hesitating to sell it, but adding, “I just figured I’d hang out for a few minutes until you we’re comfortable.” 

She gives me a small smile, “Well… thanks.” She stands up, grabbing her bag and then looking at me, “Actually, I’m gonna change real quick if you don’t mind waiting.” 

“Go for it,” I tell her, sitting on the edge of the bed and waving toward the bathroom. 

Scrolling through my notes on my phone for a minute, trying to ignore whatever she is doing in the bathroom. It is only another minute or two before she walks back out. My eyes feel like they’re deceiving me, but I blinked a million times and it’s not going away. 

Rory walks out, just in a bralette and these shorts that are practically painted on her. Doing everything in my power to not just watch her walk past me, but my brain isn’t in control at this point. 

The hidden tattoos on her sternum have me struggling to keep my jaw together. A few pieces I couldn’t fully make out on her stomach as she passed by. The blur of her legs passing me and I guess I hadn’t looked at her hard enough to notice the tattoos on her thighs.

My head follows her as she passes me and bends to put her bag back in the corner, and the way her ass was barely hanging out of the shorts– if I didn’t need to leave in a minute, I would be sweet talking my way into her bed. 

Shaking my head quickly as she starts to turn around, my phone vibrating in my hands making me jump. 

Josh: we’re here 

Me: give me one second

“Better?” I ask, trying to look respectfully at her but, god, she’s making it difficult. 

She nods a few times, plugging her phone in and flipping open the covers. I try to stop her from getting too comfortable.

“Why don’t you come lock me out?” I ask. “That way we know you’re safe.” 

Standing up from her bed, I start to walk out and wait for her to come grab the door from me. Turning to face her, telling her, “Text one of us if you need anything, okay?” 

“That works,” she says. Whispering, “Thank you again. I’ll see you in the morning.”

My eyes drop from hers, glancing down at her body for a split second, before I say, “Get some rest.” 

30 minutes later.. 

“Ready?” I look back at the three of them, Sam pulling his hair back into a bun. 

I pull the door open, not hearing an alarm. We all make our way into the building, seeing a soft light coming from down the hall. The click of the heavy door shutting louder than I would have liked. 

“Hello?”

We all stare at each other as I shake my head silently. Moving through the halls of this building, trying to figure out where we’re supposed to be. It feels like years trying to stay as quiet as possible as we do this, but we finally get a grip on where we are when we’re faced with a problem. 

“Who are you?” they ask. 

Glancing back at the boys, before I answer, “I think you already know, don’t you?” 

“No,” the hesitation in their voice enough to know that tonight would be an easy night on us. “I don’t owe them anything.” 

Stepping toward them, cracking my neck on both sides, I smirk at them, “Sadly, I’ve been told that you do. So, we can make this easy or..” 

Six

Eight

Masterpost

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@justwantjosh

[fire-lizard-ro]

Could I request Jing Yuan slowly falling in love with a baker reader who manages to win his heart through the power of delicious baked treats?

Oml thank you so much anon I can finally write a request for my beloved malewife JY. <333

Reader gender: gender neutral

It starts out on a peaceful afternoon. I imagine that no matter how busy the Arbiter-General of the Luofu is, he likes to occasionally take breaks from the Seat of Divine Foresight to take a stroll or visit places on the ship to see how things are going. Despite his fame, I like to think that people have enough respect for their dear general that when he's out on these outings, they'll allow him his privacy.

On these walks, he likes to find something to eat if the timing is right. Seeing as it's just past lunch and he's yet to eat, Jing Yuan supposed it would be good to find somewhere to grab a bite while he was out.

It's then that Jing Yuan stumbles across your bakery. Initially he merely listed it as an option in the back of his mind, filing it away as a new bakery he'd have to try out later or maybe now if none of the other places suited his fancy that day. But then as he began to pass... The smell that wafted out from the door as a smiling customer left the building convinced him to go inside. He was pleased to find that while it did have Xianzhou specialties, it also had foods from beyond the fleet's norm.

Another thing that he was pleasantly surprised with was you, the owner of the bakery. Even with the unspoken rule of allowing the general his leisure time in peace, many would at least gawp at him for a bit before poorly hiding their awe and shock at seeing him in their shop. But you merely waved at him just as you did the customer who'd entered before him. The feeling of being treated just as a normal person was... Very nice. Jing Yuan's ever present smile widened a tad as he nodded to you before going back to perusing the options behind the glass of the counters.

He decided to get a wife cake (sweetheart cake) to enjoy on his way back to his office. The exchange between you two was easy and pleasant. You did your job and nothing more. Though- it was done with a smile and in such a way that he felt quite comfortable.

When he left, he glanced at you again. You were seeing other customers, not sparing him another glance.

Taking a bite of the wife cake, he found that it was better than any he remembered having before and the flavor brought back memories of times gone by. How lovely. Perhaps he'd have to visit your bakery again.

And he certainly did. Over time, the two of you built up a rapport. You were his favorite baker, and he, your loyal customer. Something about your baking made him feel warm inside. When he asked what you did to make them taste so good, you would respond that you baked them in the hopes of each good you sold bringing just a little more joy to the lives of those who ate them. He chuckled and said that it was surprisingly believable.

At some point, he became aware of the fact that the two of you were becomming... quite close. Concerningly so.

I like to think that with the life he's lead and with the personality he has, Jing Yuan is the type of person to give his affections freely. But his trust is hard won. Sitting in the seat of an Arbiter-General, not only has he had to lead troops to victory, but he's had to manuever on the political battlefield as well. After holding his title for longer than most of his peers and having to be the one so plan behind the scenes... Always planning ten steps ahead of everyone else... It would be hard to put his trust in others. Especially when you add on what happened to his old friends. Sometimes, no matter how good he is at what he does, fate will take matters into its own hands.

So when he notices this predicament... he's a bit... afraid, honestly. Huh- The Divine Foresight himself, afraid? It was the truth. He was still mortal and still had his fears and flaws.

Even so, he had no real reason to avoid you. Especially because he thought it would be best to continue as normal so as to not alarm you. You two did have a solid friendship after all this time... As much as you could when he held you at arms length.

Yet there was still tension there. In the brush of fingers when Jing Yuan handed over his payments and when you'd give him what he'd bought. The smiles the two of you would exchange. The heartfelt words that you gave Jing Yuan even when he was trying to keep a firm distance between the two of you. It made him feel a bit guilty for keeping a wall up when you were none the wiser... And perhaps the kicker was the way his heart felt full of warmth when eating the pasteries and other snacks you'd prepared for him specifically that morning, knowing he'd be in. The simple pleasure of always knowing you'd have food he'd more than enjoy ready for him. Knowing that you made it for him. Knowing you cared enough to do so. Knowing how much care and love you put into everything he ate.

And it was a moment like that in which he realized he was already too far gone.

He had been enjoying one of his favorites of yours while sitting in your shop, having enough time that afternoon to do so. He was brought back to memories of his old friends and comrads... And this time. Warm, fond memories of you. That was... new. It was then that he heard your laughter, causing the man to look up as you patted the hand of a woman who was smiling widely at you. She had been thanking you profusely for your help in making her anniversary with her boyfriend so wonderful. They had both loved the pastries and said that it seemed to make their hearts even more filled that day.

Oh.

Oh no.

His eyes crinkled as he felt a smile stretch across his face, unbidden.

He was in love with you.

From that point on, he subtly did what he could to become even closer to you. Let down his walls and allow you in. Just you. He did things to subtly court you, as well. Little gifts here and there that show his sincerety and that he remembered the things you said to him. Sometimes this would include ingredients you needed for the bakery. Eventually, he even gifts you a hairpin (even if you don't have long hair, this is mostly for the symbolism).

It was that gift that made you realize his intentions. It was a quiet morning, even before you opened shop that he stood in the back with you, under the artificial light of the shop and in casual wear due to a day off he took for this. Quietly and softly he told you that he had a gift for you and took your hand gently in his to place the elegant hairpin. He softly closed your hand around it with the hand that had previously been holding the hairpin, your hand and said hairpin held tenderly between his two larger, calloused and scarred hands. When you looked up into his eyes, searching, you saw how they had narrowed and clinkled at the edges with his warm smile. This was not a side of him you'd ever seen before in more than the barest of glimpses.

With a slow grin that he matched when he saw it, you leaned up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down into a kiss.

It seemed that not only your food could warm his heart.

Thank you again for the request! Feel free to send in another one~ Especially if it's for JY I love him so so much ijogee I could talk about him for daayyyysssss.

[sewinrat]

If you were one of Luther's Cat:

Obviously you're not a normal cat. No gender mentioned dw;

While Nyon has those floppy cat ears and Nyen has like a cat hat, you have a beret with cat ears. Do with that information as you will, but either way no one knows if it can come off.

You eat poison once. It was an accident. Trouble likes to linger around you but they can get worse as years went by.

You were the middle cat. What I meant by that is, both in role and personality. You were not as mean as Nyen can be but you were also not as nice as Nyon is.(Unless of course you have a different opinion.) Remember the tier list they had in Vol 1. Lucid 5? Yea, you're placed either in Dime, Ace or something else like Hearts/Diamonds but never higher than that in tier 4. Close to Tier 3 actually but Nyen can be petty.

Danger Level: MODERATE

You are often found around the kitchen or the living room. Any other parts of the house you might be seen is because you have to go there under an order or for other reason. Once, Sebastian found you somewhere in a hallway sitting on the floor terrifyingly staring at the wall.

Unlike Nyen, when it comes to vacuums, you're one of those that chill on it. Just pop hide your limbs, be a bun and sit on top of it. If this ever happens, Nyen usually respects you more than he does when you're off it. It doesn't last long tho.

Of course since you're Luther's cat, you are loyal to him. It's inevitable especially in the ivory house. Luther's house. Maybe when you were a regular human, you would've accidentally met him in Michigan. You lost everything before so why must you worry about your human life when you can be a cat while gaining inhuman traits from Luther. Don't mind whatever happens within the house, you can do anything under his permission.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You;

Randal: "Yeahh I don't care much about them.. However they're my favourite out of big brother's cats! They're willing to play with me unlike the other two! It's fun since Sebastian don't play my games. I would call them my friend if it weren't for the fact that they're big brother's... And also the fact they can act like him." In short, he would see you as his friend but non friend.

Sebastian: "O-oh.. Who are you? Uh uhm.. okay? I guess they're fine. They're not as crazy as that other one.. but they still make me uncomfortable.. especially when they stare at the wall for no reason. I just hope they won't try to kill me.." He's afraid but he's fine. He can tolerate.

Nyen: "Oh them? I guess they're okay. They're boring to me but they are terrifying when they're on the damn vacuum. *shivers* eugh.. thinking about it makes me sick. Don't tell them that or else I would have to suffer their smug smile for a while." He doesn't care much. Don't try to snitch on him.

Nyon: "... They're okay." He's too quiet on the matter but don't worry, he likes you. You're not mean as Nyen. If anything, you also amuse him randomly. Especially when he saw you intimidating Nyen one time.

Luther: "Ah yes, one of my lovely cats. Out of the other two, as a kitten, they act so good. Better than the two. However, I love them all equally. As they grew older, it seems that trouble stirs around them more but it's fine. It's not as troublesome as some of the things Randal puts himself into. Now, while you are here, come have tea or please leave." His opinion has not changed. He loves you just as much as he loves his family.

Bonus! Ratman Robert: "How the hell did you get here? Whatever, you don't look like one of them. The middle cat? No comment. I don't know if I should be afraid that they seem to be plotting something or grateful they don't attack us when they see us. I would like it better if they don't stare at the wall. It's uncomfortable to feel their eyes on me." He's scared. But he would offer you food that he has as peace offering one day. Don't eat him.