#it pins me down looks me directly in the eyes and tells me to “add this new cool thing or else... 🔪”

[hearted-anon]

little part 2 i wrote, 1054 words. (enough to be a fic actually..)

“But was it?!” Changbin whined, clinging onto the tired quokka as if he wasn’t the one who drained all that energy. Jisung shrieked at the feeling of two big arms wrapping around him like a vice, almost dropping his lollipop in the process. Hyunjin snickered in the background, shaking his head in faux disappointment, trying fruitlessly to pull the dwaekki off the poor quokka.

"Definitely." Jisung deadpanned, only to be met with a large pout and glossy eyes as the oldest of the trio began to waddle away and sulk in a corner all alone. Exchanging a familiar glance with each other, the two mischievously snuck up on the rapper, keeping their footsteps as light as humanly possible to keep their dear producer unaware of the chaos brewing directly behind him.

Before he knew it, he screamed as four hands began to wrestle him to the floor, struggling as much as he could to no avail, shaking his head in desperation. The duo above him only smirked evilly and continued trying to pin Changbin down with all their weight, eventually securing him down with Jisung on his waist and Hyunjin above Changbin's head, just like a very familiar position someone was in mere moments ago.

"Go on, tell us one of your jokes, we'll rate them." Jisung encourages, grinning ear to ear at the ferret who matched his energy right back like a mirror.

"O-Okay...W-What's the best way to communicate with a fish- WAHAHAH!" Changbin barely managed to get out his joke when nails began to scrape all over his armpits, another set of arms kneading at the pudge of his stomach. The scream he let out nearly bucked Jisung off alone, but seeing his wide smile as it was flashed to anyone in the room just strengthened his resolve not to be thrown off on this wild bull ride; and maybe some part of him wanted revenge too.

"Hmm, what is it, go on Hyung, tell us~" Hyunjin whispered into his ear with faux innocence, only pressing the pads of his fingers deeper into the center of the elder's underarms, his nails moving up and down rapidly in such a way that drove Changbin absolutely nuts, the teasing lit to Hyunjin's voice not making it any easier to get out his words in proper sentences. The moment his lips parted to continue the joke, all that came out were desperate screams as Jisung pressed right into his v-line, or sometimes suddenly scribbled over his stomach pudge, cutting him off completely.

"A little harsh don't you think? He looks like he's going to die soon~" Jisung tutted, but nonetheless his fingers didn't stop, jutting out his bottom lip to add to whatever charm that Hyunjin pretended to gag at. Meanwhile, the dwaekki under them was practically wheezing, eyes widening every once in a while, to be met with Hyunjin's empathetic gaze, which really wasn't ever in the slightest. His eyes were glossed over, entire face a bright red, and he could barely squirm with the quokka's legs on either side of him, trapping him in.

"I-I'M GOHOHONNA DIE! PLEHEHEASE HEHEHELP ME!" Changbin wailed, to no one in particular at this point, seeing how no one had come bursting through the exit at his desperate cries. His legs feebly twitched and kicked under the sensations, arms being locked by the ferret and held up to let his underarms be tortured for eternity, body trembling as Han pressed back into his waistline once more. He threw his head back in mirthful agony, this was so much more comedic than his jokes or aegyo, wouldn't one agree?

"No one's coming to save you Hyungie, until you finish your joke~" Jisung coos, very much tempted to blow a raspberry but his mouth was still preoccupied with the lollipop in his mouth, resorting to leaning down and rubbing his stubble against the elder's stomach, snickering at the ear shattering scream that followed. The stubble was rough yet oh so ticklish against his bare skin, the friction making it feel like absolute torture for him. Hyunjin gave a smile of empathy seeing how tears of laughter were streaming down his cheeks and pattering against the floor, lightening up and just gently scratching under his chin.

"Okay okay Sungie, let up, he might actually pass out if we don't let up on him," Hyunjin reasoned, seeing how Changbin's squeaky cackles had gone pin-drop silent, and finally at last did the ace let up, seeing the mess he's created. Changbin simply heaved on the floor, flinching harshly when hands came up to soothe his poor stomach and wipe the sweat off his forehead; if without context maybe someone would've assumed he had the workout of his life, who knew he just got tickled the living lights out of?

"Ahaha..Noho more.." Poor Changbin pants as he curls up onto the floor, screaming bloody murder when he was picked up by the duo to lay onto the comfortable couch, eventually succumbing to his exhaustion and melting away into the couch like putty. Hyunjin audibly cooed at the sight, pressing big chaste kisses all over the elder's cheeks while he weakly protested and pushed at his face; it was useless given how he was completely out of strength by now. Jisung simply watched in the background, enjoying the taste of cherry and laughter on his tongue while a hand wrapped around Changbin's shoulder tenderly.

"Think you're funny now hyung, our little comedian?" Jisung inquires, his eyebrows wiggling in mischief while Hyunjin gave a sneaky snicker, making the middle of them squeal in fear before nodding rapidly. Safe to say, he was not at all safe from their gentle affection, getting his cheeks repeatedly squeezed until they were as bright red as the lollipop in Han's mouth, little words of affection and compliments whispered into his ear till he felt like he was going to die, and it was supposed to be Jisung on the receiving end here!

By the time the lollipop stick was thrown into the trash, it was spotted that the trio were curled up in the living room, the rapper's arms wrapped around the duo with a blanket atop them, courtesy of a leader who couldn't help and take at least a thousand photos to remind them of the tender moment later.

𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙚𝙚! 𝙝𝙖𝙣 — 𝙙𝙖𝙮 3: 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣:

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 1.2k

𝖑𝖊𝖊: han

𝖑𝖊𝖗: changbin and hyunjin

𝖆/𝖓: mah favorite for @hearted-anon

𝖙𝖜: pinning, no restraints, rough and soft tickles, angst cause mah wife likes it.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚����𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s 🐾

“Okay okay okay GUYS!! I HAVE A JOKE!!” Hannie called out happily, a wide smile gracing his pretty features. 

“Did it make you laugh? Let’s hear it.” Chan clapped his hands, smiling at the quokka, who’s energy levels were off the chart that day. 

“What do you call two spiders that just got married?” Jisung giggled, scrunching his fingers in delight. 

“I dunno, what do you call them?” Felix asked, an amused twinkle in his eye. 

“Newlywebs!!” Jisung laughed, happily bouncing up and down. Chan was laughing; more at him than anything. 

“That’s a cute joke, Ji.” Minho sighed, staring at his phone. “Yeah, it was nice.” Seungmin replied next to him; they seemed to be watching a stage they had done previously, searching for mistakes in their performance. 

Jisung deflated a little, but he kept happy. “Is it okay if I tell you another one?” 

“Okay, why not?” Hyunjin turned off the television, glancing sideways at the quokka. 

“How do you turn a soup to gold?” Jisung asked, and Changbin, who had been previously typing away at his laptop, took pity on the aspiring comedian, turning to watch with an expression of curiosity. 

“Add 24 carrots!” Hannie cheered, expecting to at least hear a few chuckles from the members, but no one had even thought to laugh, and Binnie’s previous curiousity turned to boredom, even if he didn’t show it and clapped anyway.  

Jisung smiled defeatedly, heart shattering inside of him as he was left standing, everyone returning to their previous work without so much as a comment. They might as well have made fun of him; it would’ve felt better than this. 

His eyes welled up with tears, his emotions were becoming too overwhelming. Chan and Changbin turned to look at him when he let out a small, heartbroken sniffle, eyes widening when they noticed their dear quokka running from the room, door ajar. 

“Oh, Hannie…” Hyunjin whispered, running after the crying boy, Changbin following suit. 

“Sungie?” Hyunjin called gently, knocking at the ace’s door with two knuckles. It opened and Jisung, who had clearly been crying his little heart out, opened it, a wide smile on his face. 

“Hi, H-Hyune…do you need anything?” Jisung asked, smiling as he wiped his face. 

“No, no…come here.” Hyunjin held his arms out, and Jisung gave in, rocketing into his chest and letting out a desperate sob. 

“No, Sungie…I’m sorry, baby.” Changbin frowned, walking around him and pulling both boys into his hug; Hannie sandwiched between the two.

“S’Okay, Hyung…” The ace responded, warmth and comfort filling his body as Changbin gently massaged down his arms from behind. 

It all disappeared when Binnie kneaded along Hannie’s sides, and he tensed before letting out a small “Ah!”, reaching behind him to grapple at Changbin’s fingers. 

“Ticklish?~” Hyunjin asked above him, and a horrified Jisung could practically feel the air around him turning mischievous, and he was suddenly picked up, turned over, and manhandled onto the bed. 

“Plehease nohoho!!” He giggled cutely in anticipation.  

“Look, Hyune, he’s already giggling for us. Get ready, Sung.” Changbin laughed. 

“Whyhy are you tickling meehe??” Jisung asked cutely, covering his hands with his face. 

“You know Sung, there are other ways to make a joke funny,” Changbin grinned. Hyunjin nodded along with him. “Grab him for me, will you, Hyunjin?”

Jisung squealed and tried to bounce off the bed, just to feel two hands on his waist, grabbing him and pinning him to the bed, arms outwards to the sides. 

“Wait…Wahait Binnie hyuhung please…” 

“You’re always begging but you never want it to stop, do you?” Changbin asked, Hyunjin settling on the ace’s waist comfortably. 

Jisung was speechless.  

“No response to that~? Okay let’s start then.” 

Hannie squeezed his eyes shut just as a finger began to trace along the shape of his kneecap, nails suddenly spreading out and in along both of them. The technique was more torturous than some of the worst wreckings Jisung had received. 

“AH-haaahahaha! Hyuuhunjin plehehease nohohot thihihiss!” The poor boy giggled hysterically, twisting at the light sensations only useful in driving him mad. 

Hyunjin moved to the spot right on his inner knees, using his nails to trace all fingers along it, watching Hanji’s legs tremble beneath his touch. 

Jisung shrieked when Hyune wrapped his hands around his knees, using his thumbs in the area and hearing the cutest laughter from a trapped quokka. 

The dancer only smiled until his face hurt. 

Changbin took note of it. “See how happy you make us?” He praised, deciding to help out by trailing his fingers along the ace’s stretched armpits.  

Poor Jisung was going crazy already, tears were welling up in his eyes and he was giggling like a madman. “Ahahaahaaa!! Stahahahap ahahalreheheady!!”

“Stop? Now why should we do that…that takes all the fun out of it!” Hyunjin teased. 

“But as per your sweet request, we shall stop…” Jisung sighed in relief at Changbin’s words. “…going easy on you.”

Jisung only registered the words when he felt a truly unbearable sensation along his vulnerable ribs, Binnie’s fingers traveling up and down as he played the younger like a piano. 

Hannie shrieked at the feeling, breaking into loud laughter as he twisted side to side, unable to escape as Changbin’s fingers followed him wherever he went. “AGHHAAHA OHO MY GOHOHOHOD!!” 

“You’re too cute, Jisungie~” Hyunjin cooed, wiggling his fingers tantalizingly. Jisung was breathless, but mustered up the strength to string together a few pleas to stop the dancer. 

“Hyuhuhune…HYUHUNJIN-AH PLEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHO!!” He squealed when Hyune ignored his pleas, skittering up and down his thighs with no remorse. 

Jisung was messy with laughter, loud, unbroken cackles spilling out of him endlessly as a loud squeal or shrieks for mercy piled in between. 

“Okay, I have a joke, Hannie,” Changbin started. “Now let’s see if you find my jokes funny?”

Jisung screamed when Binnie moved to his waist, mercilessly drilling in. “Okay…” The older cleared his throat. “Why did the chicken cross the web?” 

Hyunjin gasped a faux gasp. “Why did the chicken cross the web?” 

“Why don’t we ask Jisung?” Changbin and Hyunjin both smiled down at the screaming Han beneath them, squirming crazily, laughing his head off and unable to form coherent words. 

“Awhh…Hyunjin look at him~”

“Our cute little comedian.” Hyune finished with a smile, watching poor Jisung pause his laughing to let out a flustered squeal. 

“I CAHAHAHAHAAN’T!! SOHOMEONE HEHEHEHELP!!” 

“Help? But we’re here! Don’t you wanna laugh together? How about you answer Bunny’s joke and then we’ll see about letting you go.”

“I DOHOHON’T KNOHOW!!”

“Okay, well, tell him the answer, and we’ll see if he can even remember it by the time I’m done with him.” Hyunjin threw the younger’s shirt up and pressed his lips to his side, blowing out and nibbling in an incredibly ticklish raspberry that had Jisung howling, flinging his head to the other side in desperation. 

“The chicken crossed the web to get to the other site!” Changbin cackled as Jisung wailed in the background, and the rapper let go of the poor boy’s arms, watching as Jisung shoved at Hyunjin’s head, cheeks red and wet as he pleaded at the top of his lungs. 

He finally managed to muster up the strength to yank the dancer’s head off. 

“Ohoho my gahahaha…” Jisung panted. Hyunjin unwrapped a red lollipop and handed it to the quokka, and Jiusng promptly latched onto the candy. 

“…Was my joke funny?”

“Reheheally, Binnie hyung?”

[whmp]

Whumpdev=alive?????????

Just askin :3

yes!

chained in my basement, malnourished and mistreated, but not forgotten, and still very much alive.

unfortunately, college has been kicking my ass lately, and will continue to do so until i finish my master's thesis. the good news is that this will continue for only about a month before i have more time to work on the project! the bad news is that i have only about a month to finish the entire paper. :' )

here's a little screenshot from a story sequence to prove that the project has not been completely neglected and forgotten!

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"What do you think of my outfit?"

Preview: How will the boys react to you wearing a revealing outfit? (and yes, I figured Sylus should be included too :))

Warning: TEASING, SLIGHT SMEXY SCENES!

SYLUS

"What do I think of that?" He gestured towards your skin tight dress that works really well in accentuating your curves. You, usually wrapped in comfortable and baggy clothes, had managed to go all out and reminding Sylus of the body you had always have under those loose clothings of yours. It is a date night in a fancy restaurant for a fancy event so you thought it was only right to play dress up. You had purchased this dress online as Sylus has been home for the past few days and going out alone would be too suspicious for someone as sharp eyed for him so getting it online is your best option. But, you certainly did not expect the outfit to fit too well, judging by the way your lover's eyes seemed to gleamed a darker shade of amber. "It's befitting for someone like you that's for sure."

When he was asked whether he is more than willing to let you wear more of these outfits in the near future, the man got up from his comfortable lounging seat, setting his gun aside onto the coffee table and he chuckled darkly as he sauntered over to you, pinning you against the wall in the process. "As long as you bear my marks, I am not worried about competition baby." He growled slightly as he leaned down and started groping you through your dress. His touch set off torrents of fire across your body, your undulating breaths quickening by every passing second. Moans of excitement raying from your mouth further edging him on to just rip the dress immediately off of you right this moment.

ZAYNE

Zayne would just sigh when he sees you clad in that skin-tight dress, twirling in front of him in excitement. He would lower his glasses and panned quietly at you, pinching on the slight bump of his nose when he tries to figure out what to tell you. "I would admit that you look good in any outfit. Including what I am seeing now." His compliment does come off to be quite half-arsed as he was not quite happy with the dress not leaving one with much imagination. Given this man would go the lengths of researching on 'how to be nice to the partner', he is not known for voicing out his repines. Hence, instead of being upfront, he would present a snappy remark in return. "But, do not come to me if you end up having a cold."

"If anyone tries to hit on you," the doctor has his slender fingers gripping onto his chin, eyebrows sewn together as he thought of a reaction towards the eidetic scenario. "I will tell them off only if you need me to." You were definitely shocked at his response, partially unsatisfied until he adds on, his confidence coming through immediately. "That's because we both know that, it will only be me that could heal you." He smirked, placing his glasses back onto the table and he turned his chair, now directly facing you. It only took two fingers for him to beckon you over and you became obsequious, prancing towards him and seating yourself onto his thighs. His hand coming to place onto your inner thigh, thumb rubbing softly over your sensitive skin. "Now, let me heal your cold first."

XAVIER

The blond man had blinked multiple times, looking at your outfit, more like staring. If he is in any cartoon shows right now, he would be drooling, with a cloud forming on top of his head, imagining how he could put your body to good use in that tight outfit of yours. It would be a 18+ cartoon for sure at this point. "You look stunning in that dress." His tone sounded...hesitant? He would try to shift his gaze to not make you uncomfortable, but let's be honest, who would not like to be stared at, especially by someone like Xavier? He had never been the type to judge you based on your styles. He finds most of it adorable on you, if not befitting. But this, this tight fitting outfit is fresh territory for him.

"This outfit does not suit you y/n." He does not hesitate one bit when your next question followed, asking him of his opinion what if someone else were to approach you when you are outside wearing this apparel. His answer is avoiding the question, only to mask his jealousy. When you ask for a more valid answer from him, he would simply take off the hoodie he currently has on and tosses it, aimed right at your face so it falls right onto your head. "You should put that on so that the others won't get to you before I do." A slight growl bubbled at the back of his throat when he careened over to you. The next sensation you felt was being pushed up against the wall, ready to be devoured.

RAFAYEL

A pout. The same pout he gives whenever he is frustrated at you. Now, he wears it when he catches sight of you in that bodycon dress. It was gifted to him by one of his sponsors to congratulate him for the announcement of his muse, aka you. He took it with the image of you wearing it but damn, he had never figured that it fit you like a snuck glove. If he was not pouting, he would have been the one drooling over you. But Rafayel, is a man of standards. "The brand seems to dote on you by picking this outfit for you." He then turned around and got onto his phone, pressing his phone against his ear.

You assumed it was Thomas judging by how Rafayel was frowning through his tone. "List out the brand that gave y/n the bodycon dress from now on. They are trying to get my girl stolen from me." Your lips are pressed together tightly when you witnessed Rafayel 'burning the brand deals just for you', all for the sake of covering up his jealousy. "Now, you are only allowed to wear this whenever you are around me alright?" He is quick to walk back over to your side, slipping his arm effortlessly around your waist and planting a chaste kiss to your lips. "Because a shining star like you only deserves a spot next to me."

[kana-daydreams]

ms. delinquent || sakura | humour | 0.8k

°*:･ᰔeveryone, but sakura, knows you're a girl.

tags: cross-dresser!f!reader. tall!f!reader. gender stereotyping. mild swearing.

wbrk masterlist

The soles of your well-worn black sneakers skid back to a screeching stop; your gakuran, coloured the same and thrown casually over your shoulders, billowing behind you like a cape against rushing wind.  

Further to your left, a chorus of male voices erupts. They bellow your name in exuberant cheer when you manage to dodge, with practised ease, the strong arm that intentionally hurtles a fist towards your face; while others egg on your split-tone haired opponent and junior who continues to throw punch after punch at you across the courtyard of your school— the infamous Furin High. 

“Going soft, already? Don't tell me yer thinkin' about backing out.” Sakura teases with a wide grin when you gather some distance between you both. “Thought you were the second-years’ Top Dog?!” he adds, his predatory grin growing further before he starts sprinting in your direction, lunging at you with a raised fist.

Just like you, Sakura was determined. Determined to find out who was the strongest between you two.

Determined to be the strongest.

He’d posed the challenge of a duel after he witnessed yesterday with his own eyes, you practically eliminate an entire squadron of guys twice your size without a single scratch marking your surprisingly flawless skin. And kept on pestering you the entire day like a petulant child that didn’t get their way, until they did.

Well...it wasn't as if you weren't itching for a fight with the emotionally reactive teen who’d defeated Shishitoren’s second-in-command.

So why not indulge him?

You scoff. "Who said anything about backing out?” Your body twists to the side, evading his punch and you slip behind him, your hand catching a hold of both his wrists. You pin them firmly against his back, then lean down slightly, lips inches away from his right ear. “Huh? Kitty cat.” You drawl and Sakura’s body involuntarily shudders at your warm breath, ticklish against his ear.

Your lips curve into an amused smile as you watch the tip of his ear colour a deep red, before he forces himself free from your grasp.

“D-Don't call me that, y-you creep?!” He springs back, arms up and fingers curled into fists, in defence. 

“Aww, but you're such an easy tease.” You coo, clutching your stomach, unable to stifle your fits of laughter. “It’s cute.”

Sakura growls at your words. “Ain’t nothin’ cute about me! If anyone’s cute, it’s you, pretty boy!” 

His words catch you off-guard, your lips forming a small ‘O’, heat warming at your cheeks. You peer down, bashful from his 'compliment'.  “You think…” You squirm, voice soft almost timid as you raise a shy gaze to look across at him. “You think, I’m cu—” A sudden force barrels into your stomach and you feel as if all the air has been knocked out your lungs.

Your face scrunches and a grunt falls from your frowning lips when you notice the smug look on Sakura's—your assailant—face, your body falling backwards from the force.

“Heh, that’s what you—”

“You asshole!”

Sakura feels a tight grip pull on his shirt, his blue and yellow eyes drawing wide. 

“If I fall—you fall!”

 And he does— directly on top of you.

His head lies buried against your stomach, his nose catching a muted floral scent, both your limbs tangled together.  

Sakura groans and his hands attempt to find purchase to pull himself up. But when they do, they cup something soft…squishy? And definitely not solid ground. 

Your breath hitches. Sakura freezes. Everything and everyone stills—silence.

Sakura feels a shock ripple through his body, and the hairs on his skin standing tall like soldiers. 

He lurches…? Scurries back, seemingly teleporting as far as he can away from you, and points a finger, wiggling it aggressively in your direction. "W-why is t-there a lump of f-fat on your chest?!"

You push yourself up on your elbows, before sitting fully upright. "Why do you think, dumbass?" You mumble, heat fanning lightly across your face.

And when it clicks—your floral scent, your plush chest masked by an oversized white shirt, and the softness of your body underneath him— Sakura’s ready to combust from all the heat burning underneath his skin.

He looks up at you. He looks down back at his deflowered hand and then up at you again, his lips refusing to cease their relentless quiver. “Y-You’re a g-girl?” He swallows thickly, the feeling of the full mound of your boob he'd attempted to use as leverage, still tingling in the palm of his hand.

You confirm his question with a single nod.

"I just...my hand was...it touched—"

"My breast?"

Sakura sucks in a breath, his face growing impossibly more red. He then clears his throat in a futile attempt to collect himself. “...But how? Are you sure you're a woman?" He arches a brow. "T-There must be a mistake. You've always seemed so...so rough. Way to aggressive and so mas—”

Sakura never gets to finish his sentence when his mismatched eyes cross, and he doubles over in pain from the powerful punch that meets him square in the stomach.

© 2024 kana-daydreams

[gaarakun]

Late Nights

Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

dom!charlie

since there’s just a few charlie imagines and smut, i will take the matter in my own hands, pls don’t judge me if something is written wrong, English is not my first language

warnings: +18, smut, mean dom to soft dom, nicknames such as daddy, baby girl and slut, oral (m to f and f to m), slight choking, face fucking, slight manhandling, tugging on hair, i think that’s all, if i need to add something else you can tell me.

—

A night like every other night with your boyfriend Charlie, you love these nights of just cuddling into each other as you hear Charlie rambling about whatever silly thing he is thinking of right now, making you laugh until your tummy ends up hurting.

“I love you” he mentions out of nowhere as he holds your cheek and admires your face.

“I love you too, Charlie” you say with a smile on your face as you get up and sit in his lap while he is half sitted, you kiss his lips softly which slowly starts to become more passionate, making Charlie wrap his buff arms around your waist.

“We should stop now, unless you want to start something” he says between kisses, each kiss making his way closer to your neck, his words say something but his actions say another thing.

You can only whine while he sucks gently on your neck and behind your ear, your eyes closed as he continues down your chest, leaving wet kisses on the way of your boobs but before he can arrive to the desired destiny he stops.

“I need you to tell me that you want this before I continue, user your words, my love” he says, looking directly at your eyes, searching for a sign of discomfort, his big hands on your waist.

“Please, Charlie. I want this so bad” you whine while moving your hips slightly, trying to rub your most sensitive part and relieve some of the aching.

He smiles, looking kinda smug about you being so desperate for him, his hands keeping you in place and evading you from moving your hips and release the ache you were feeling.

“Didn’t know you needed me this much” he suddenly turns you both upside down, leaving you under him, his weight pinning your body down. “Such a slut, waiting for me to touch her” he grins as he takes of your shirt and starts playing with your nipples, circling them slowly making it almost painful at how neglected you felt.

“Charlie… please” you whine pathetically. “Please… daddy…” you mention the nickname which you know that makes him go crazy.

His moves stop, meaning that the nickname worked. He smirks and grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him directly. “Oh no, you didn’t… you want me to treat you like a slut, right? you like that” he chuckles.

Charlie let goes of your jaw and starts moving around until he is standing at the edge of the bed, palming himself on top of his pants. “Come here, baby girl” he yanks on your ankles until you’re in the edge of the bed too, manhandling you.

You look up at him with fake innocence in your eyes, you don’t have an option but to look at him palming himself, you could see the outline of his cock, marked obviously in his pants.

Charlie smirks at how hypnotized you look, you couldn’t stop staring at the delicious outline. He takes your hand and places it on top of his pants, giving you permission to play with it. You caress the shape of his cock, feeling how hard he was and making you blush in a intense way.

“Oh… did my babygirl got shy suddenly? but you were just whining for cock” he chuckles and takes his cock out, sliding his hand up and down. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you” he says as he holds his cock on one hand and takes a handful of your hair in the other. He taps his cock slightly on your cheek, getting a bead of pre cum on it. “Open up, baby”.

You do as he says and open your mouth, your breath a little bit shaky, he brings his tip to your lips and you kitten lick it, causing his grip on your hair to tighten up just a bit. “Oh, such a good girl, I can’t believe you were being such a brat earlier, rubbing your little pussy on my crotch and everything” he says as he puts the tip inside your mouth, your tongue receiving it and Charlie’s mouth agape at how your tongue is making out with the tip of his cock.

He lets go of his cock to leave it up to you but he keeps the tight grip on your hair, allowing him to move your head at the rhythm he desires. You take his thick cock into your both hands as you start sucking slow at first, your hands sliding up and down where your mouth isn’t touching.

“S-so big and tasty” you hum as you kitten lick the vein that was coming from the base of Charlie’s cock. He let’s out a whine and puts his head back, enjoying your mouth. You starts sucking again but this time you slowly try to fit as much as possible not stopping until you feel your gag reflex act up, you try to get up from his cock but his hand stops you.

He slowly moves your head up and down his shaft, fucking your mouth for a few seconds until you start tearing up when you get out of air. You regain your air after he let’s go, your breath heavy and quick, and strings of saliva coming out of your mouth while his cock rests on your cheek.

“You look beautiful like this, teary eyes and your pretty cheeks all blushed from sucking cock” he caresses your cheek as he strokes himself. “Makes me wanna cum on your face and those plump lips, but I need to feel you clenching around me” he says as he makes you stand up and kisses your forehead, quickly checking on you and any sign of discomfort.

“I’ve been neglecting you a little bit, baby. Come here.” he says as he makes you lay down, his hands putting your legs apart as he watches the wet spot on your pink and see through panties. “Oh… my kitten got wet from sucking his daddy off” he coos as he uses his thumb to overline the wet spot, slightly touching your clit and making you squirm a little bit.

“Please, daddy. I’ve been a good girl.” you whine as you feel his thumb sliding softly on top of your panties. “i’ll do as you say, please?” you move your hips up trying to feel his touch more.

“You were a good girl” he smirks, “doesn’t mean I don’t like to see you squirm for me” he chuckles. He moves down in your body, his hands holding your thighs from closing and he start’s lapping up your core on top of your panties, your sweet smell addictive to Charlie.

He moves your panties to the side and gives your pussy a taste. Moving his tongue and almost devouring you. He desperately takes off your panties and laps up your juices, almost making out with your pussy. You feel his big and angled nose touching your clit, making you squirm but his buff arms stop you from moving too much. You pass your hand through his hair and tug on it as he devours you, the grip on his hair making him go even more feral when sucking your clit.

“Oh god- daddy-“ you moan. “I-I’m close, please don’t stop” he sucks continuously on your clit while looking at your face, he wanted to watch you while you cum on his face.

He gets apart from your pussy for a second, “Cum, kitten. You’re allowed to” he says and immediately starts devouring you again sending you over the edge while you tug his beautiful hair. His mouth doesn’t stop sucking when you cum, slurping every single drop, he keeps going until you squirm and detach from him.

Charlie’s smile is so big, seeing your beautiful cheeks full of tears of pleasure and your legs trembling after your first orgasm. He lays on top of you, careful not to crush you. He kisses your cheeks and checks up un you. “How do you feel, kitten?” he cleans some of your tears and puts away the little stray hairs that are in your face.

You know he is checking up on you, seeing if you can continue. So you just kiss his lips and nod. “Please, I need you” you look into his blue eyes and beg.

“Good girl” he smirks and and lets you lay down again as he stands between your legs, his thick cock laying on your stomach as Charlie gets ready. He knows your pussy is small compared to him so he takes his time.

He takes his cock into his hand and stroke just a bit before he taps it in your clit making you squirm but soon he inserts his tip, he looks at you and your reaction.

You feel a light sting from his thick cock just entering but you just need more so you move your hips up causing Charlie’s cock to move a little bit, he hisses at the sudden movement and puts his hand in your neck, trying to control you. He squeezes his hands just a bit as he enters more of himself.

“You’re doing so good, kitten. Just a little bit more and that’s all” he coos at you, knowing not even half of his cock was inside. He pecks your lips and starts kissing you deeply as he inserts his whole cock, his lips distracting you from the sudden pressure and the stretch.

“It’s too big, daddy” you say as you squirm, feeling your pussy full.

“It’s okay baby girl, it will feel so good” he says trying to stay still to let you adjust but he can’t help but to start moving softly, his cock starting to move inside you. Soon his movements start being quicker and you can see the outline of his cock showing in your tummy as he moves.

You can help but moan everytime you feel his tip hitting the perfect spot. “Do you see that, kitten? look at my cock inside your little pussy” Charlie chuckles when seeing his own cock so deep inside you. He can’t help but pressing on your tummy making you scream from pleasure.

“You were made for me, darling. You were made for me to use” he says as he starts moving faster hitting your g spot repeatedly. “Oh you like it when I fuck you fast, don’t you? I can feel your walls clenching and sucking me in” he says in your ear.

“I-I think I’m close” you whine as you look for Charlie’s hand to hold onto. He takes you hand and intertwine your fingers with his.

“Already?” he chuckles, “You can cum, kitten. You deserve it” he maintains the rhythm, making sure you get to your orgasm but he doesn’t stop, since he isn’t even close. “Oh- you’re making daddy get closer, baby. But you need to keep still, so I can use this tight cunt” he smiles and places a few kisses in your neck.

“Daddy… is too much” you whine while tears come out of your eyes, feeling overstimulated but soon it starts feeling so good, you start feeling your walls clenching around Charlie again.

“Oh fucking god-“ he moans out of breath. “You’re cumming again, aren’t you? your walls are clenching in my cock so tight” he even closes his eyes, trying not to cum right then and there.

“I-I can’t hold it anymore” you cry as you feel the edge so close. “C-Can I-I cum please daddy?” you moan as you look at him with begging eyes.

“Cum, cum right now” he says as he starts pistoling inside of you at a incredible speed, making you go over the edge immediately.

He groans as he feels your liquids covering his entire cock. Right when he feels his cock pulsating, he stays still inside your pussy, your walls milking him. His heart is racing as he finishes inside of you.

Once he feels overstimulated he puts his cock out of you, making you whimper. His seed immediately coming out of your hole, Charlie watches as it oozes out of you, feeling proud of himself.

He checks on you quickly, making sure you’re okay, then he proceeds to go into the bathroom to get some towels to clean you up. He grabs his bottle of water and gives you some before he drinks from it too.

“Come here, baby” he says as he lays down, moving your body to cuddle into him, your head in his chest, he kisses your forehead and starts caressing your hair softly, making sure he doesn’t tug on it. “You did so good, I love you so much” he hugs you.

“Thanks, I love you too, Charlie” you say in a quiet voice.

He smiles and holds you tight as you slowly dooze off.

[gothlcsan]

Puppy ; LEE SOHEE

PAIRING non idol!sohee , afab!reader

GENRE smut 18+ , fluff towards end

SYNOPSIS teasing your boyfriend and compromising with him by letting him ride your thigh

WORD COUNT 1033

WARNINGS thigh riding, pet names, “good boy”, hand job, biting, kissing, nipple play, sub!sohee, cum eating, fluff

♫ stupid for you - waterparks

a/n happy ninth day of kinktober! not proofread but i adore sub!sohee so much and wanted to add to the seemingly nonexistent agenda ㅠㅠ i hope you enjoy! please consider liking and reblogging ! ♡

Sohee lays his head on your lap, staring up at you with a bright smile, humming happily as you ruffle his hair fingers connected to his scalp. He sits happily content with the head scratches until he rolls over onto his stomach, unintentionally (we all know that’s a lie) stuffing his face directly into your crotch. You try and push him away via his shoulders complaining he acts too much of a dog, him wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he protests. Trying to convince him to get up, he looks directly up at you with a pouty scowl.

“Let me be.” Sohee whined, dropping his face back into your crotch. For some unknown reason this embarrassed you trying to scoot him away until he got up, crawling off the bed, and sitting on the floor looking away from you. You tell him not to pout, apologizing saying you were just playing around, leaning over the side of the bed to ruffle his hair. He moved at the last second making you nearly tumble off the bed, freezing as you regained balance. Talking to him in a baby voice telling him you were sorry for being mean, you try and compromise on a solution, his ears pricking up as you mention him riding your thigh. With a slow turn of his head he raised an eyebrow as if to question your sincerity, you whining that you were telling the truth and for him to get back into bed with you. Hesitantly Sohee stands up and slowly gets back into bed, crawling towards you settling in front of you. Placing your hands on his waist you guide him into a kiss, Sohee climbing onto your lap to easily wrap his arms around your neck, his fingers intertwining into the baby hairs on the back of your neck. A moan falls from his lips as you bite his bottom lip, swallowing it while helping him out of his shorts. You’re a bit obsessive with his noises, doing everything you know makes him tick, loving the way he mewled against your lips.

“Lift your legs up, baby.” You whispered into Sohee’s ear as you pulled off his shorts, palming him through his boxers. His breath hitches in his throat as he impatiently changes position to straddle your thigh. He starts off with slow girates of his hips, his forehead pressed against your chest as he moans shaking. You can feel himself getting harder against your thigh, the wet patch growing as he continues rolling his hips. You want to pin him down and take him right then but this visual is incredible, kissing against your boyfriend’s neck as he takes off his shirt needing to feel his skin pressed against your own. Trailing your hands down his chest you rub your thumbs over both of his nipples, watching his eyes light up and flutter, his skin flushed in a bright red.

Sohee trembles when you lean down and brush your lips against his nipples, your tongue swirling around the hardening bud. His fingers digging into your scalp makes you groan as you wrap a hand around the band of his boxers to help him out of them. You moan at the sight, wrapping a hand around his leaking dick. It’s messy, all over the place as the two of you try to get impossibly closer. The need to feel one another makes the other crazy, pushing him back onto the mattress not breaking the connection between your lips and his pretty nipples. He begs for you to kiss him, obliging as you lift yourself up to cup his face giving him a firm and passionate kiss. Precum soaks your hand as he’s already nearly close just from the bit of foreplay alone, giggling into his mouth as he whimpers it’s too good. Quickening the pace of your hand you remind him he’s such a good boy for taking everything so well. Sohee wraps his hands around your fist begging for you to allow him to lay you back so he can ride your thigh once more. Sohee is lost in it, head hung forwards as he all but practically bounces against your thigh desperate to reach his high. His stomach tightens, chest heaving as he reaches his orgasm, you coaxing him to cum. Sohee moaning loudly, babbling into the base of your throat. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends of his hair, helping him work through his climax, kissing up his face.

“You’re such a good boy, hm?” You asked, wanting to give him reassurance, cooing at him as he leans down to grab your wrist. His eyes widening happily (has he always been this puppy coded?) as he wraps his fingers around your wrist - - wrapping his swollen lips around your fingers. Sohee hums as he licks off his arousal, your chest swelling watching him acting so cutely while doing something so lewd. You press kisses on his face letting him move and nuzzle into your chest as a tired expression covers his face. You adore his blissful post orgasm glow, the way he pushes his body against yours to get comfortable. Running your fingers through his hair you let him relax, knowing he’s fallen asleep as his breathing slows down, falling into a rhythm. Gently removing him off your arm you slowly walk to the bathroom to wash your hands and warm a washcloth, bringing it back into the bedroom to clean up the mess. Sohee’s eyes flutter open as he sleepily asks what time it was, you shushing him gently telling him to go back to sleep as you cleaned him up. Placing the dirty cloth into the hamper, you climb back into bed with him, helping him to settle under the covers and wrap your arms around his waist cuddling him tightly up your chest. Pressing a kiss onto his shoulder blade you let out a yawn, burying your face into his back muttering, “I love you,” before falling asleep. Unbeknownst to you the huge smile on your boyfriend’s face as he whispers back that he loved you too, the both of you falling asleep happily.

[cassiefromhell]

Unexpected (pt. 6)

Part One Part Five

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: Eris, freshly mated to you and volatile as ever, has walked in on you and Azriel in a hostile position... what will he think? It's up to you to diffuse the situation.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: fingering, dirty talk, suggestion of oral

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3 (anything from hc's to drabbles to fully blown fics! ever had a great fic idea but cant write? send em over!!). Thank you so, so much for the notes on this lil series! I read all comments and reblogs.

In the split seconds that follow Eris’s arrival, things go down far too quickly for me to comprehend well. 

As Eris’s expression turns to rage, Azriel realizes the gravity of the situation before I can even react. He releases me from his death grip, gently nudging me away from himself and backing up.

But he was too slow; Eris saw the hold he had me in, and he’s descending on Azriel.

I step forward — honestly, involuntarily, for I did not tell my body to put myself between two very opposing males — and Eris collides with me. “Eris, Eris, love, look at me. Look at me. I’m okay.”

Eris doesn’t even spare me a glance, but he does place a protective hand on my lower back, which means I have his attention. But his whole body is tense and ready to pounce at Azriel.

I continue to soothe him, rubbing circles on his chest. “I’m okay. We were just having a little fun with sparring. Nobody got hurt—”

“That was not sparring,” Eris hisses, eyes narrowing further. “I could hear you down the hall—you were asking him to let you go—”

“You act as if I had her in a chokehold,” Azriel adds, his voice coming from behind me. “She can hold her own — unlike you. I could kill you in an instant.”

His comment causes an immediate growl from Eris, and the red-haired male gently pushes me aside, and then lunges for Azriel.

The movement is too fast for me to react in time, and Eris knocks Azriel to the ground, sending the two sprawling across the floor.

Groaning, I pinch the bridge of my nose, one phrase on loop in my brain: Stupid, aggressive males. Stupid, aggressive males.

I let them brawl for around twenty seconds, wincing when Azriel lands a solid punch to Eris’s nose, but wincing harder when Eris swiftly kicks Azriel’s groin. The sharp cry of pain from that, quite literally, low blow makes me decide that enough is enough.

I stride over to them, then wait until Azriel is on top of their little rolling spree, knowing that he’s more likely to listen to me. When that happens, I speak, my voice demanding and echoing throughout the room. “Enough.”

That word in my signature ‘listen up buckaroo’ tone is enough to make both males pause and look over to me.

“I said, enough. Get off, Azriel, before I drag you by your scruff like a mangy dog — because that’s what you’re both acting like.”

Azriel, with his tail between his legs, gives Eris one last sharp glare before standing, shuffling away.

Eris is on his feet immediately, not looking quite ready to let him go.

“Eris!” I shout, stepping in front of him and grabbing his shoulders. “Look at me. Eris!”

It takes a moment, but he does relent, my first mate’s eyes shifting down to my own. 

“He’s hurting more than I am now. You’ve gotten your petty revenge. Now sit down, and listen,” I scold him, pushing on his shoulders.

Obediently, he sits on the ground. He knows my rage, and he’s learned that a happy mate keeps your life straight.

I whirl, putting my hands on my hips. Azriel is standing there, silent as ever, his shadows angrily swirling. His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, concealing his burnt—and likely now bloodied—hands. His attention is trained on Eris, seeming moderately amused that I have him on the floor like a scolded puppy.

“You too. Sit. Now.”

He too sits, but after more hesitation and a skeptical look towards me. The faint amusement on his features vanishes.

I stride to be standing directly between the two. “I will not tolerate any more anger-fed, impulsive, and frankly violent tendencies between you two. If you’re fighting for me, then do it better — I don’t know, buy me flowers or something. If you’re angry about our whole double-mate predicament, take it out on someone else. Yell at a council member, Eris. Spar with a particularly annoying Illyrian, Azriel. You know what? If you reaaaally need to get out the urge to punch each other’s teeth out, go ahead. But not in my presence. If that’s what you need, then you get a licensed sparring referee to watch you two and make sure no-one dies. But don’t go complaining to me.

“Eris,” I turn to face the male in question, flashing my teeth as I speak. “You will learn to accept that Azriel is also my mate. We’re bound to spend time together, and I understand that we’re freshly mated and you encountered us in an irregular position, but you need to leash your anger towards him.”

I hadn’t planned much of a lecture for Azriel, but a quiet, mocking “leash it, like your hounds” from behind me has me turning to face him once more.

“And Azriel,” I continue, raising my voice an octave. “You will behave. You will watch your mouth. You know better than to egg on a volatile, freshly mated male, especially in front of his female. Do you understand?”

Azriel bites his tongue like he’s refraining from insulting Eris one last time… but he nods.

“Eris. Do you understand?” I ask, crossing my arms.

The red headed male nods, more eagerly than Azriel had.

“Good. Now, both of you up.”

Equally obediently this time, they each rise. 

“Shake hands.”

Eris scowls, giving me a sidelong glance. “Love, you know how I feel about this. I will be civil, but—”

“Don’t make me force you to promise each other eternal pacifism and harmony.”

Eris immediately holds out his hand.

And, thank the Mother, Azriel shakes it.

“Good,” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Eris, put away my harp. Azriel, I will visit Velaris in four days’ time. I expect you to be here to pick me up.”

Azriel blinks for a moment, then grins. “I’ll be there.”

Eris makes a pouty face, but I manage to brush it off for now. I’m not very good at resisting a clingy Eris, however, so I know that I need to take my leave.

I turn to the exit and leave, slamming the door shut behind me. I have to trust that those two will either talk it out or disperse on their own terms, because I am desperate to get out of the palace after the deadly combination of this encounter and so many days spent in our chambers. Not that I haven’t immensely enjoyed them.

But, honestly, my hips need a break.

An hour later, I sit high up in a tree, deep in the luscious forest surrounding the Autumn Court treehouse-style castle. 

My horse, a disagreeable andalusian mare with a stunning dapple gray coat, is tied to the trunk of a nearby tree. I’m sure she’s happily eating apples or picking the bark off of a stump.

I find these woods incredibly calming. The rustle of leaves, the crunching of pebbles under the hooves of animals — it creates a soothing atmosphere. 

Eris has graciously left me this time on my own. I’m sure he could sense through the bond how upset I was about all of the fighting — I have enough on my plate as it is. However, he won’t be able to stay away for much longer, not with being freshly mated and all.

Right on cue, a soft tugging comes from Eris’s end of the bond. I hesitate, but then match his little tug.

Not thirty seconds later, Eris winnows to a branch above me. First I feel his eyes on me, then hear a soft sigh, and then the shuffling of leaves as he climbs down to my level. He is wordless the whole time, slipping into my branch and sitting behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He tucks his head against my neck.

Equally silently, I reach back and stroke his hair.

We sit there, straddling this tree branch, for an incalculable period of time. It could have been two minutes, or two hours, I find myself genuinely unsure. 

Eris is the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry for causing you unneeded and unwarranted stress,” he mumbles against my skin. “I love you. So much. And I just want you safe… and happy. Even if that means that you accept Azriel, too.”

Sighing softly, I tilt my head to kiss his forehead. “I love you, too. And I know you do. I accept your apology wholeheartedly.”

He grins against my neck, gently biting my skin. “That’s good, because I wasn’t going to last the night without dragging you back to me by your hair.”

“By my hair?”

“Did I stutter?”

I laugh softly, gently taking his jaw in my hand. I tilt his head up to face me, then give him a long kiss.

Eris leans into it, pulling me closer. When we finally part, he murmurs against my cheek, “Four days, hm?”

“I came up with it on the spot… but yeah. Scores us four more days alone, and then I go to visit Azriel in an environment where you won’t be shooting him glares and scowls and rude little quips—”

“I was not the one making the rude little—”

“Eris.”

“Sorry, love.”

I turn to face him, my legs laying over his. We stare at each other for a very long time, before he smiles and kisses me softly. 

“You know, a lot can be done in four days,” he croons, rubbing my lower back, and then slipping his hand around to my front, over the seam of my trousers.

Whimpering, my head rests against his shoulder. “Eris… As much as I want it, my hips need a break,” I whine, though my body betrays me as heat pools under his touch.

“We don’t need to move your hips at all,” he soothes me, leaving gentle kisses along my neck as he palms me. “Let me take care of you, little flame.”

I open my mouth to, I don’t even know, object? But how could I say no to this, to the delicious sensation his hand is bringing me even through fabric? So instead, I nod, whimpering softly. “Please.”

With Eris and I temporarily gaining a break from the mating frenzy this morning, I had nearly forgotten the intense pull that builds in my abdomen now, the sharp need seeming to stem from my very soul, pulling me towards him — and dampening my underwear.

And so when his hand works its way into my trousers and breaches my folds, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Eris tugs me a little closer, so that our bodies are flush against each other, only his hand between us. His touch is gentle right now, thumb dancing circles around my clit and his pinky finger tentatively dipping inside of me. Even the light contact has my heart racing, blood thrumming in my ears.

“So wet for me, already,” he purrs, pushing in his ring finger as well, slowly thrusting in me out. His other hand holds me close as he speaks into my ear. “Such a good girl. My perfect little mate.”

My hips involuntarily buck forward as his thumb presses against that sensitive bundle of nerves, but his other hand grips my thigh tightly.

“Ah,” he growls, shaking his head. “You said your hips needed a break. So keep them still.”

He switches his pinky out for his middle and pointer fingers, slowly thrusting in and out, in and out.

My whimpers shift into moans, and I find myself biting his shoulder to muffle them. His fingers continue to work magic on me — indescribable, fiery magic. And soon, my abdomen begins to tense and flutter, and I murmur a quick, “please.”

“I know, love,” Eris whispers against my ear, quickening his pace. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

With a sharp cry, my release comes. Pleasure and pressure wash over me and up my spine, making me instinctually close my legs around the overstimulation at my apex. Panting, the sensation seems endless, until I manage to float back down to reality, immediately registering Eris’s voice.

“You look so pretty when you cum on my fingers,” he croons, kissing the shell of my ear. “So innocent.”

“Innocent?” I ask, raising a brow. “When I’m orgasmic and moaning, I look innocent?”

Eris grins, sneaking in a few kisses at my pulse point. “It’s hard to explain… but yes.”

I reach down, seizing his wrist and pulling his hand out of my panties. His fingers glisten with my slick, and without hesitation, I bring them into my mouth… and suck.

“Still innocent?” I speak around his fingers, allowing a soft moan to slip from my throat, gagging a little as my lips meet his palm. 

It’s hard to miss the tent that pops up under the fabric over his crotch.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the crunching of footsteps over leaves interrupts our peace.

Eris sighs heavily, retracting his fingers and fixing my trousers for me. I watch his deft fingers button and straighten my pants with lust-filled, hooded eyes, tongue flicking across my lips. He gives me a ‘wait a moment’ look, and then shifts his attention to the ground.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” He calls down.

My hand reaches for the button of his own slacks, but his fingers capture my wrist without even sparing me a glance.

Damn Fae instincts.

“Apologies, my lord,” a voice calls up — he has quite the regal tone, so perhaps a guard or even a low-ranking, attention-seeking courtier. “But Lord Lucien was looking for you — something about a starry mate matter? He was rather cryptic, my lord.”

Eris groans, leaning his head down to rest on my shoulder. He whispers, “It’s always him. Always.”

It takes me half a second longer to realize what that message means. It’s an Azriel matter. Of course it is. Azriel being my other mate has yet to be exactly… announced… so far, so Eris’s brothers and very few servants or guards know of the situation. It’s no surprise that Lucien is trying to be discreet.

“Tell him I’ll meet with him in just a moment,” Eris calls down, then looks at me and speaks in a hushed tone. “I’m sure he just wants to speak of your departure in four days — I informed him earlier. I’ll meet you in our rooms later.”

“Eris,” I whine, nipping his nose with a graze of my teeth. “Can’t you feel it? The bond is—”

“I know, my love,” he murmurs, capturing my chin between his forefinger and thumb. “And I will make it up to you tonight. I’ll even bring you those smutty little romance books you like and let you recreate a scene with me.”

That satiates me. “Really?” A smile spread across my lips, my posture straightening.

“Yes, really,” he grins, pecking each of my cheeks and then giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “Look forward to that.”

And with that, he leaps from the tree and disappears down the path.

“I’m bringing a hound?”

“Yes.”

“A hound? This is a stake of dominance if I’ve ever seen one.”

“It’s not just any hound,” Eris whines, gesturing to the blonde bitch at my feet, sitting at attention with her ears in the air. “She’s your favorite hound. You love her. You even sneak her extra treats.”

I roll my eyes, kneeling to stroke the dog. She leans into my touch only slightly, but remains at attention, ready to take orders. “Yeah, because look at her. She has the prettiest blue eyes. How could I say no to that face? Hmmmm? How could I say no to this sweet baby?” I nuzzle the hound’s ear, cooing to her. 

When I look back up, Eris is giving me his best puppy dog face. 

“Oh, come now,” I groan, giving his leg a light push. “I’m sure Azriel would not appreciate me bringing Kelpie, whether she’s your dog or mine — she’s still an Autumn Court hound.”

Eris shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “First of all, I’ll never get over you naming a bitch Kelpie. Secondly, I’m sure if you bat your eyelashes and ask nicely, you can bring her,” he raises a brow, “and I want you to please bring her.”

“Why?” I groan, standing once more and bracing my hands on my hips. “So that you know that I’m safe? I am perfectly capable of protecting myself better than a dog can.”

“It’s for my peace of mind,” he begs, stepping forward and tipping my chin up to look at him. “Please, little flame?”

“No.”

“……Please? For me?” Eris juts his bottom lip out, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

The four days left in Autumn have flown by, and Azriel will be here to pick me up any moment. Which perhaps, maybe, has me questioning my resolve on this matter. I know Azriel will let me bring Kelpie, but honestly it might end up feeling like Eris is watching me.

However, the face he’s making…

I groan heavily, eyes shuttering. “I really hate you, you know that?”

I can feel his grin as he kisses me, one hand sneaking around my waist. “That sounds like a concession, because you know you love me.”

Opening my eyes once more, I give his chest a gentle nudge. “I’ll bring the hound. But if I sense any funny business, and I mean any—”

“Yes, yes,” Eris smirks, patting my head, “you’ll have my ass. I know.”

“Damn right she will.”

I whirl around to find Azriel standing there, arms crossed across his leathered chest. 

“Right on time,” I say, with a glance to the clock. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wish to bring a dog from home. Just for comfort, you know?”

Azriel nods, striding to my side and kneeling to stroke the hound’s side. “That won’t be an issue. What’s her name?”

“Kelpie,” I say, patting her head.

Azriel pauses, and glances at Eris. “Did you…”

“She did,” the High Lord responds, gesturing to me. “And I will never understand why.”

“It’s a perfectly capable name!” I huff, crossing my arms. “You males are just too ridiculous to see the creativity in it.”

Azriel stands with a shrug, and then holds his arm out to me. “Are you ready to go?”

I give Eris a small smile as he hands me my bag, and I take it and Kelpie’s collar in one hand, taking Azriel’s arm with the other. Eris and I had said our goodbyes before Azriel had arrived, and before our hound discussion, so there’s no need for that now.

“Yes,” I reply.

And with that, we are enveloped in shadows.

Velaris is a beautiful city, and the place we are staying in is even more beautiful — they call it the House of Wind. 

However, on the topic of wind, I would have appreciated it more at first had someone, anyone, warned me that in winnowing in you have to either fly or drop the last few yards. 

When our winnow ended and I found myself midair and then suddenly in Azriel’s arms, shooting down onto the balcony, I was not pleased. Luckily, the Illyrian had the foresight to grab Kelpie, so she’s fine, but the whole experience was very jarring. 

“I would have appreciated a warning,” I had told him once we landed, holding a hand over my mouth to ease my queasiness.

“I didn’t think you’d be afraid of heights — I’m sorry, it’s so normal to me that I failed to even consider it,” he apologized over and over, placing a protective hand over my lower back.

“I am not afraid of heights, I am afraid of falling.”

That ended the conversation.

Which is why now I sit in the room they prepared for me, resting. Azriel thought it’d be best for me to be able to settle in a little bit before lunch, after which he’ll take me on a formal tour of the city, and then there will be a dinner at a dwelling known as The River House — Rhys has sent me paintings and descriptions of it times before, so that one isn’t new to me. I do still find it a tad bit curious that I was never informed of the existence of the Wind house, but I decided earlier not to ask.

There are a few extra tidbits I’ve learned about the building I sit in now: it can hear you and will do essentially anything you want, and it houses Cassian and a female named Nesta. I’ve been informed in past letters that she’s one of Feyre’s two elder sisters, along with Elain. I’ll be meeting her tonight, at dinner.

One thing I do know is that I like this place. I was told that the House itself arranged my room based on paintings and descriptions of me, and it’s done a fine job. A bookshelf lines an entire wall, filled with literature that, at a glance, seems to be precisely my type. It placed a knife under my pillow and on my nightstand, which is very typical ‘me’ behavior. When I first stepped in, a steaming cup of my favorite tea was placed on a desk, next to a book titled ‘Velaris: Myths and Lore of the City of Starlight.’

The house likes history.

Currently, I sit in a comfortable lounge chair, that book in my lap and tea in hand, reading up on my historical and mythological events.

I’ve been here for around an hour when the door swings open, revealing Azriel.

“Hi,” I say, closing my book. “Come to collect me?”

He gives me a quick once over, nodding. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“Of course,” I reply, taking the final sip of my tea — but when I shift to put the items on a table, they vanish. “I must admit, that’s a tad unnerving.”

“You get used to it,” Azriel responds with a shrug, extending his arm. “Now, let me show you Velaris.”

“This time, I hope you’ll warn me before plummeting us to a certain doom,” I grin, taking his bicep gently.

He returns my grin with a wry smile of his own. “Only if I feel like it.”

Azriel’s tour of Velaris was exquisite. He showed me each quarter of the city, the squares for creative people, especially the musicians one — where I walked away a happy customer with a new, magic infused, harp cleaning cloth. Azriel carries it for me in a small paper box as we walk along the Sidra to our next destination: dinner.

“I hope you’re not too nervous,” Azriel starts, tensing a little at my side.

I raise a brow, a piece of hair falling over my temple. “Why would I be? I already know Rhys and Mor, and I’ve met Feyre and Cassian.”

He remains rigid, so I slow to a stop, tugging his elbow to turn him towards me. He says nothing, but does make eye contact.

He’s not exactly lying. But I do have the feeling that he’s omitting information. And as a spy, he must be rather good at it.

“What do I need to know, Azriel?”

A pause. The calculations passing through his mind are visible in his eyes, which sets me in an uneasy state. I find myself gripping his arm tightly now.

But the moment has been stretched out in my mind, because not even two seconds later, he replies. “There will be a couple extra people at the dinner. Their names are Gwyn and Emerie — Nesta’s friends.”

“Good. An imbalance leaning the female way is never a bad thing. Offsets you males and your volatile behaviors,” I laugh, my voice ringing through the air with the sound.

I’ve almost forgotten the way that he paused before he told me that. Like he was deciding what, exactly, to tell me.

Almost.

But when I open my mouth to inquire more, I find that we’re already on the gravel path leading up to the river house, so I snap my jaw shut and resolve that going in half-blind will be my fate.

The door swings open, and out comes Mor, who rushes over and sweeps me out of Azriel’s hold, ushering me into the house and buzzing like a bee. “Ah! I’m so glad you’re here — happy to have you back in the Night Court. Is this your first time in Velaris? Oooh, has Az shown you the city? I hope that—”

“Mor—” I cut in, to no avail.

“—he’s given a good tour; he misses all the great places. Did he show you Rita’s? We love that place! I heard you officially mated with Eris — uhm, good for you. What exactly are you doing here anyway? I thought you and the oh-so-mighty High Lord would still be in a little bubble, so I have to wonder— oh, hey, are you hungry? Since we made a—”

“Mor,” I successfully cut in, and she stops, looking over to be with a raised brow. “I’m happy to see you too. And I’m starving. So, lead the way to the food.”

A snort comes from behind me, undoubtedly Azriel. Mor nods and agrees however, placing a hand on my back and shepherding me towards the source of the food smell. 

I know that Cassian has joined Azriel behind me when the sound of wings colliding occurs, followed by hushed whispers.

But I’m distracted rather quickly as I’m led into the dining room, which is full and bustling with people, some that I recognize and some that I don’t.

I immediately spot Rhysand and Feyre, although they’ve spotted me first, judging by the dinner roll that’s hurtling towards my head. The first time I met Rhys, I defended myself by throwing a sandwich at him, so this has sort of become our tradition. My hand snaps out in front of me, catching the bread. I examine it, then take a bite. 

“First of all, are you ever going to get over this joke? Second of all, this is really good bread. Who made this?” I scarf down the food, walking over and taking a seat to Rhys’s left, Feyre already on his right. Azriel quickly takes the seat next to me.

A petite female across the table warily raises her hand. “Oh, I did. I baked the bread,” she explains. Her voice sounds like falling rose petals on a warm autumn day, and gives off the scent of lavender and honey.

“Hi,” I smile to ease her obvious nerves, holding my hand out. I introduce myself, and she shakes my hand.

“Oh, this is Elain, my sister,” Feyre cuts in, gesturing to the brunette across from us. 

“Ah, yes — I’ve heard from the letters.”

“Lovely to meet you, then,” Elain adds, smiling softly. Then her eyes flick to Azriel, her cheeks color, and she looks back to me. “You must be… Azriel’s.. friend? I was told you were visiting.”

My eyebrows draw together, and I glance at Azriel, and then back to Elain. I open my mouth to ask why she’s being so weird about the fact that I’m his mate, but then I realize the way she’s openly biting her cheek and stealing glances at the Illyrian by my side. It’s suddenly abundantly clear; either she has a thing for Azriel, or they have some sort of past.

Don’t let it bother you.

But it does. Just a little. Tiny bit. I shut my mouth, as the table fills in, every seat being filled.

Introductions go around, and I memorize each face and name. It goes: Elain, three females named Gwyneth, Emerie, and Nesta, and then Cassian. On the far end of my side of the table sits Amren, who gives me a slightly frightening grin.

I note that Gwyneth, or as everyone calls her, Gwyn, is charming and witty, paired with a wall-shaking enthusiasm. I quickly learn that she works in the library, so this must be an important form of socialization.

Emerie is nice, as far as I can tell, definitely headstrong and bold. She has an obviously strong form, but I don’t miss the way that her wings seem to sag a little behind her.

I’m halfway through my assessment of Nesta (sharp-tongued, sarcastic, and moderately unapproachable) when a macaron lands on the edge of my plate. I glance over to find Azriel watching me. 

“Oh, thank you,” I murmur, starting to pile food onto my plate. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.”

Azriel leans over, speaking into my ear, his breath tickling my skin and rustling my hair. “You weren’t distracted. You were analyzing.”

“Perhaps,” I shrug, a little smirk curling on my lips.

“I do it too. It’s just easier when you have shadows that are whispering all that you need or want to know,” he murmurs back, then leans away and starts piling food onto his own plate.

Five minutes pass easily of good food and easy conversation… and not one, but two females making eyes at Azriel. 

Elain is the most obvious about it — blushing and batting her eyelashes and aiming to brush her hand against Azriel’s by reaching for a dish at the same time as him. Thank the Mother, Azriel is mainly unaffected. In fact, his end of the bond shows affection for her, but no romantic feelings whatsoever… at least not right now.

Gwyn is the other, but she’s sneaky. More just making jokes and smiling at him than anything else, though I caught her staring at him a couple times.

Am I a little tiny bit uncomfortable? Yes.

But mostly shocked at how bold these females are. After all, his mate is sitting right next to him, right at their table.

I recite to myself: Don’t let it bother you. You and Azriel are hardly anything anyway.

Hardly anything.

“So,” Amren starts, leaning forward to bore her angular silver eyes into me. “Is someone else going to say it, or am I?”

Elain looks over at the female through her lashes, blinking in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta rolls her eyes, immediately jumping on Amren’s train of thought. But then she points at me, and my heart falters. “This. Her,” Nesta says, smirking. “Why, exactly, is Eris’s mate in Velaris, with Azriel?”

Rhys raises a brow. “You two are so strange. Mor and I have known her for centuries — she’s always welcome to visit.”

Cassian gives Azriel an amused look, like he’s thoroughly enjoying the situation. He raises his wine glass in a ‘good luck’ fashion. But I’m just confused.

All of the people at the table are looking at us, with a range of expressions. Some are questioning, or confused, others looking to us for confirmation on Rhys’s claim.

And then it hits me.

Oh, shit.

They don’t know.

No one here except for Azriel, Cassian, and me knows.

They don’t know that I am Azriel’s mate.

Oh, shit.

Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @5moremin @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @nightless @the-sweet-psycho @mali22 @bubybubsters @hannzoaks @menagerofmischief @theviewfromtheotherside

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[vivalas-vega]

easier / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

this idea came to me very suddenly last night and I just knew I had to write it!!! pls lmk what you think - also lmk if you want a part two, i might have some more ideas for this one 

easier / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader 

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 4k

warnings: language, mentions of death, definite flying inaccuracies

The ride home on the carrier passed by in a blur, a mix of voices and sounds that didn’t quite reach your ears as you responded on autopilot. Your body taking over and saying what you thought people wanted to hear as your mind was somewhere else entirely, still replaying the mission over and over, focusing in on every little detail you were certain you weren’t ever going to forget. It was all the same, excited congratulations on a job well done, comments on the skills you’d exhibited, and praise for your first mission as a team leader going successfully. You were acutely aware of the fact that you needed to hold yourself together, getting picked as team leader was an incredible feat and you weren’t about to let anyone think you weren’t cut out for leadership long term by breaking down now, but that didn’t mean your mind was present. You weren’t even aware you’d docked back in San Diego until Bob was softly tugging on your arm and letting you know it was time to go, weren’t even sure how you’d gotten home until the sound of Rooster’s keys hitting the entryway table in your shared home somehow jolted you back into your body and you dropped your bag as you looked around. Home. You felt like sinking to your knees, kissing that damn creaky floor and never stepping foot outside again. 

“You haven’t said a word since we docked,” he commented, trying not to prod.

“Yeah, uh- tired. We prepped so hard for this mission and then uh… guess it’s finally catching up,” you muttered, slipping your boots off and pulling the pins from your hair. “Mind if I grab the first shower?” you asked and he just shook his head, watching you carefully as you made your way down the hall. The second the warm water hit your skin you gasped, suddenly feeling the weight crash against you and you braced yourself against the tile as you felt each emotion you’d been so carefully repressing for the past twenty-four hours. Shock, anger, shame, fear… they all cascaded over you and you almost willed them to mix with the water and wash down the drain but things don’t work that way. You forced yourself to go through your routine, trying to block out the sounds of bullets hitting your jet and your teammates panic in your ears. 

“Tally two, three o’clock!” Payback said and you cursed to yourself as things began to fall apart around you.

“Fuck, it’s a dogfight. Keep your eyes up, watch your teammates.” you yelled.

“Smoke in the air!” Rooster shouted in your ear and everything devolved into chaos, everyone trying to keep their line of sight straight as they bobbed and weaved around each other, the SAM’s, and the terrain around them.

“Stay low when you can!” you yelled, deploying flares and bailing Phoenix out seconds before Payback had to do the same for you. Enemy fire was raining over your jet and you couldn’t take much more, “cover me, we need to take them out.”

“I’m on you, Siren, go,” Phoenix affirmed as you veered off course and set your sights directly on one of the bandits, fighting back every survival instinct telling you to bail. “Backup, backup, on my six, we’re pinned.” she shouted and your blood ran cold. 

“Talk to me, what the hell is going on?” You were struggling to get tone on this guy, whizzing through the air as he seemingly played cat and mouse with you.

“Rooster and Payback are getting hammered,” Bob answered.

“Shit, shit, shit.” you muttered to yourself, trying to take a deep breath but it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of your lungs.

“Come on, kid, what would I do?” You suddenly heard Maverick in your ear, and somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered if he’d physically subdued Cyclone to get to the mic. “You can do this in your sleep, Siren, you just gotta do it.” you nodded, you knew what to do. Increasing speed you suddenly took a sharp right, disappearing behind a ridge and dropping below the radar.

“Comanche, talk to me.” 

“You’re parallel, they can’t see you.” 

“You know what to do.” Mav said and you swallowed all of your fear, it was now or never. Flipping over the ridge you cut them off, knowing you were putting yourself wide in the open but hoping the element of surprise would give you the two seconds you desperately needed to lock tone, and it did. You watched as your hit ripped through the canopy of their jet, pulling up on your throttle to avoid the inevitable explosion as it crashed into the rocks below and you didn’t even have time to process it as you whipped around. 

“Dagger One, confirmed bandit kill. Dagger Squad, proceed to carrier.” 

“What? Siren-” Rooster began to protest in your ear as you deployed counterstrikes against missiles that were headed directly for him. 

“Go, now. None of you can take anymore fire,” you ordered as you lifted yourself back onto the radar, giving your enemy a clear sight at where you were. You waited until they changed courses, abandoning Phoenix to take on the bigger threat: you. You waited until the last second before taking off in the opposite direction. 

“Is she-” Bob started to ask before you cut him off,

“I mean it, that is an order.” You whizzed through the canyon, taking each turn in stride as you dropped low enough to confuse your opponents radar. You knew this terrain. You studied it, made sure you knew it better than your old childhood neighborhood… you just needed to keep him locked in, distracted enough to lure him right where you wanted him. You lifted up, just briefly to keep him on edge, practically taunting him before dipping back down and hurtling directly towards the rocky hillside. Your calculations told you that you had about ten seconds to bail out before you became one with that hillside and Mavericks words in your ears kept you on track. “Three… two… one.” you whispered before roughly pulling up on the throttle, gasping at the sudden force of the incline, leveling out just as soon as you could to be sure your plan had worked, sighing at the smoking wreckage beneath you. 

You stepped out of the shower with shaky hands as you dried off before making the quick dash towards your bedroom where you changed into your comfiest sweats and sweatshirt, the sound of the tone still ringing in your ears. By the time you reemerged, Rooster was already in the bathroom and you made your way through the silent house to check the fridge, which was a wasted effort on your part as the two of you never kept it stocked, especially not before a deployment. You raked through the take-out menus from the junk drawer, narrowing down to pizza or Chinese and leaving it to Rooster to be the tie-breaker. You cracked open a beer, the one thing that was always stocked, and leaned against the island as you took measured breaths, mind slipping further and further away from the present until Rooster’s tap against the pizza menu startled you back.

“Get extra breadsticks,” he said, grabbing his own beer and you nodded as you grabbed your phone, exchanging pleasantries and your order quickly before setting it back down with a sigh. “You okay?” he asked and you lifted your gaze to meet his with a nod.

“Yeah, just ready for food and my own bed,” you said and it wasn’t entirely a lie. Rooster decided to accept this, for now, knowing it was best not to pry until you had some food in you. 

“Okay, Maddie texted. Said we had some packages delivered, I’m gonna go grab them, probably from your dad.” he said as he slipped his shoes on and you chuckled.

“Mmhm, is that all you’re going to do?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him and he just stared back.

“She’s our neighbor, Siren.” 

“Our super hot, super single neighbor that you’ve had a crush on since we moved in… but if it’s not about anything else I can go grab them, since they’re probably for me anyways,” you teased as you stood and he all but pushed you back down. 

“My shoes are already on, I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not saving you any breadsticks if you aren’t.” You watched as the door shut behind him and exhaled forcefully, finally alone for probably the first time in weeks and you tried to decide what to do, settling on making your way through the house to take stock of any damage to your houseplants. None seemed too far gone, and you began gathering the ones that needed some extra love by the sink when a knock on your door startled you. Grabbing your wallet you went to meet the delivery driver but were only startled further when you swung open the door.

“Hangman? What are you doing here?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the pizza boxes in his hand.

“Ran into the driver when I got here,” he said, pushing into your house and you stepped aside confused.

“By all means, come on in,” you sighed, watching as he set them in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” you asked again.

“Mind if I?” he gestured to the box, grabbing plates down from the cabinet and making himself right at home as he grabbed the red pepper and ranch from their respective spots. 

“Clearly I can’t stop you,” you threw your hands up in exasperation before grabbing your own plate, eyeing him suspiciously and not waiting for him to explain himself. The second the smell hit your nose you realized it had been far too long since you’d eaten anything that didn’t come from a Naval carrier cafeteria, and all of that likely came out of a freezer. You ate in silence, and it wasn’t until you finished your second slice that you were reminded of his presence. “So, is there a reason why you’re here or is it just to steal my food?” 

“Well, I paid the driver so technically it’s you stealing my food,” he replied before taking another bite.

“That you intercepted. Seriously, Hangman, I am not in the mood for whatever is going on,  I just want to be alone and go to sleep, so if this is about the mission or another long-winded rant about me making you Dagger Spare can it please wait?”

“That right there is why I’m here.” 

“What is?”

“Being alone, not sure that’s such a good idea,” he grabbed both of your plates and set them in the sink before fixing you with a look that you couldn’t quite decipher and you felt your patience wearing thin.

“What does that mean?” you sighed. You were currently utilizing all of your energy at putting up a front and you weren’t sure how much you had left, and Hangman was just about the last person you wanted to crack in front of. 

“That mission was kind of a lot, and I know Rooster’s not coming home anytime soon, so…”

“So, you just decided to show up out of the blue? The mission was fine, Hangman, same as it always is,” you replied but it wasn’t convincing and you knew that… you just prayed that Hangman would accept it anyways and leave.

“Except, it wasn’t the same, was it? Some pretty big differences in this one over any of our other ones,” he said, popping the pizza boxes in the fridge and you just stared at him bewildered.

“What is going on right now? Why are you suddenly so interested in my well-being after a mission?” 

“Is it surprising that I consider you a friend, Siren?” he shot back. 

“Actually, yes it is.” He contemplated this for a moment but shrugged it off before walking into your living room and sinking into the couch and you tentatively followed. 

“Regardless, I know that any minute now you’re going to lose the thread that’s keeping you together and I just don’t think you should be alone when that happens.” he said and you just furrowed your brows.

“Again, what does that mean?” 

He sighed, “Siren, you have clearly been stuck in your head since the moment your jet landed on the carrier.”

“Hangman, I’m fine.” You felt it, the first clench of your chest as you lied through your teeth and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You hadn’t been able to shake the sound of that god awful tone ringing in your ears, the panic in Bob’s voice as he called out SAM’s in the air, the way Phoenix tried to keep it together to cover you only to be pinned with no way out. The image of a man, too far away and too distorted through the canopy to actually make out, but a man nonetheless before your shot ripped apart his jet and sent him plummeting to the ground. The sound of the explosion beneath you as you fought gravity after your hail mary. It was all there, at the forefront of your mind replaying so loudly and so clearly that if you closed your eyes you could be certain you were still there in the thick of it. And Hangman saw all of this, the internal struggle to keep it all buried. He heard it in the dismissive responses on the carrier, and he felt it in the faraway look in your eyes.

“You’re not fine,” he said softly and you just shook your head, suddenly feeling the oxygen in the room thin out, each breath beginning to feel more and more like a chore.

“I- I am fine, you don’t need to be here.” you whispered and he moved closer on the couch, carefully watching as your chest began to heave and your eyes fluttered shut. Flashes of SAM’s exploding in the air, white smoke, and that barely-there figure clouding your mind and that small crack gave way under the unbearable weight, allowing room for everything you’d been trying to keep at arm’s length. White hot tears fell down your cheeks but you hadn’t even noticed over the sights and sounds so sharp in your mind, not until you felt your hand being raised and pressed against something warm and firm.

“Open your eyes, Siren.” You heard it but it didn’t quite register, not until you felt another hand on your cheek wiping your tears, “open your eyes.” He repeated and this time you heard it, slowly allowing them to open as you hiccupped and noticed his other hand was pressing yours to his chest. He pulled away from your face, grabbing your free hand to press to your own chest and took a deep breath, nodding for you to do the same. The rise and fall of your chest was rapid and erratic in contrast to his, so measured and calm and you felt like you were fighting your lungs trying to get them to fall into the rhythm he’d set but eventually they relented and you began to feel calmer as the tears continued to stream silently down your face. He let your hands fall but kept one firmly wrapped in his grasp, offering you a physical tether, a reminder that you were here. “Do you want to try telling me what’s going on in your head?” he asked gently.

“I-” you started but shook your head, clearing your throat and trying to regain some composure. “It all happened so fast. We completed the mission and should have been home free, then the bandits came out of nowhere… I don’t- I don’t know what we missed, what we did wrong… we were below the radars level of detection. We let our guards down and then they were on us and we had to fly where we could trigger the SAM’s and it was just chaos I-I mean it was hard to tell up from down at one point,” you felt the emotion begin to build back up and Hangman just sat silently, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb and giving you space to continue. “I was waiting for a command, waiting for someone to tell me what to do and I realized it was my call. Everyone was shouting, calling out their moves, trying to figure out what was going on… it was my responsibility to make sure everyone made it back. I knew what I had to do, hearing Maverick just confirmed it and I… I just went for it, followed the instinct and before I could even register what I’d done I had to get the other one off Phoenix… I had to get them home but I-” you choked on your words, “two people, Hangman, I-” you couldn’t finish around the sob that left your lips and he nodded knowingly before pulling your legs across his lap wrapping you in a hug. His arms held your shaking frame close to his as you sobbed, tears soaking through his shirt as he just rubbed your back and told you that you were okay. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, but when your cries quieted and your breathing evened out he pulled back just enough to cradle your head in his palms.

“I need you to hear me when I say this, Siren. What you did was brave, and you did exactly what you had to do. It was them or you, or Rooster, or Phoenix and Bob, or Payback and Fanboy. It was them or your team, and you did what any leader would have done. If you hadn’t someone wouldn’t have come home, and it was your skill and quick decisions that ensured everyone did. It’s because of you Rooster is with that hot neighbor right now, because of you Bob is on the phone with his Ma, Payback is with his kids, Phoenix is with her girlfriend, Fanboy is… I don’t know what Fanboy’s doing but the point is you pulled through, you protected your team.” 

“But, those people, I… I mean, fuck they’re just doing the same thing we were, right? For their own country? What about… their kids, their family-” another wave of tears pulled you under and he shook his head, forcing you to keep eye contact.

“They were doing the same thing we were. They knew what they were doing, knew the risks, same as we do. You did what you had to do to survive. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why does it feel like this?” you asked and Jake just smiled softly.

“Well sweetheart, if it didn’t feel wrong then we’d have a whole different set of issues right now,” he said and it managed to coax a laugh from you. Small and fleeting, but it was there. “It’s not supposed to be easy, and no one tells you about this part, mainly because so few people in our position have actually experienced it. They only focus on the victory and the glory, breeze right on over this part… and this part is shitty, I’m not here to tell you it’s anything but. I just need you to know you did what you had to.” 

“But you have… experienced it,” you stated and he nodded.

“Ever notice how I’m never the one to bring it up? It’s a lot easier to boast and move past it than to get into the nitty gritty of just how much it sucks. And believe me, it does.” 

“How did you- how do you move on from this?” you asked softly and he dropped his hands to rest on your thighs. 

“You just do, you keep telling yourself you did what you had to and eventually it gets a little easier. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it though, this will always be with you, it just gets a little easier to bear with time. And you have me, everyone’s going to want you to try and talk to them about it eventually and you should talk about it, but if you ever need someone that gets it… I’m here.” 

You nodded, “thank you.”

“Everyone always talks about what an accomplishment it is to have a confirmed air-to-air kill, they never talk about the burden that comes along with it. What people don’t know is that it looks good on the resume but it’s not a club you want to join, and I’m so sorry you did.” He squeezed your leg reassuringly, “but you’re strong, and you’re good… like, better than me, though I’ll deny it if you ever repeat it, you’re going to get through this, I know you are.”

You smiled softly, “I’m telling Phoenix you said that.” He squeezed your leg a little harder, intentionally hitting a pressure point causing you to squeal and giggle.

“I can’t believe you would do that, after all of that,” he said and his shocked expression only spurred your giggles further.

“I would never, I’ll take that high praise to the grave,” you promised, crossing your heart. 

“What is going on here?” Rooster asked tentatively from the doorway, taking in your position half draped over Hangman and you just narrowed your eyes at him, grabbing Hangman’s wrist to check his watch.

“An hour and a half to get some packages from next door and yet… I see no packages, do you, Hangman?” you asked, looking at him puzzled and he just smirked.

“I reckon there was a different package delivery that took place, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It seems so, Rooster, what do you have to say to that?” He just looked between the two of you, halfway between caught and confused before shaking his head.

“Whatever is going on here I don’t like it, and you better have saved me some breadsticks.” he muttered, walking into the kitchen. 

Hangman turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening, “you should get some rest, I know you didn’t sleep at all last night on the carrier.”

You nodded, “I know I just… every time I close my eyes-” you started but shook your head, not wanting to get worked up again. 

“I can stay, if you want me to,” he offered and your eyes widened though he mistook it for offense, “not that I- I mean-”

“Would you?” you cut him off and he nodded, and when you disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for bed you couldn’t help but chuckle as you heard him talking with Rooster in the kitchen.

“Spending the night?” You heard Rooster ask suspiciously, “should I make up the couch?”

“No, uh- gonna be in Siren’s room.” he replied.

“Seems a little… precarious, don’t you think? What are your intentions here?” 

“Listen you big dumb flightless bird, I’ve been where she’s at. Things are going to get really intense before they get better and I just… I don’t know, I don’t want her going through that alone. My intentions are to just be there for her.” You smiled to yourself, heart warming at the notion of Hangman, someone you’d once believed to be a bit of a pompous ass, being so selfless and helpful. 

When he entered your room you’d already climbed into bed, limbs aching and heavy and he noticed the change of clothes you’d set on the end of your bed. “I don’t know what you like to sleep in, I stole those from Rooster so you have options.” He smiled softly before leaving, quickly returning in a tee shirt and gym shorts before sliding in next to you and you almost sighed in relief at the prospect of finally getting some sleep.

“Get some rest, honey. I’m here and you’re safe,” he said as you laid your head down, “just close your eyes.” And when you did the images were there, the sounds and smells but so was Hangman… just as he’d promised he was there to anchor you to the Earth and keep the nightmares at bay the best he could and in that moment you knew. Things weren’t going to be easy again, not for a long time, but he would be there every step of the way and that alone made it just a little easier to bear.

[enid-rhees]

Hey! Can you maybe write a Rosita x reader? (Smut) where Rosita is just kinda working and doing stuff and Y/n is teasing her and being very touchy (maybe even moaning in Rosita's ear or something) and Rosita acts like she's annoyed but secretly she enjoys it and eventually Rosita ends up taking Y/n behind a building like kinda out of sight for the rest and Rosita "punishes" her? Idk i just thought of this i think its a pretty nice idea😭🙏

i love this omg 😮‍💨 tysm for requesting !! hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

— warnings: SMUT, fingering, edging, slight overstimulation, semi-public sex. MINORS DNI.

— a/n: hope you all enjoy! reminder that requests are open! if you’d like to request, just read pinned for rules beforehand! 🫶🏻

Rosita was working in the garden today. you tagged along with her because you had already finished your work for the day, but didn’t want to be bored inside.

you laid on your back, watching her add more seeds to empty spaces and pour water over them, patting down the dirt to make sure it’s fully covered.

your hand reached over, brushing over her glove covered fingertips. Rosita looked over at you, a small smile painting her lips. “what’s up, sweetheart?”

“nothing. you just look pretty.” you replied. she shook her head and looked back down at the plants, “don’t start distracting me from work now.”

a smirk made it’s way to your lips, “i won’t.” you said, looking back up at the sun. your eyes closed as the sun soaked into your skin. you loved days like these, it wasn’t hot outside, but it wasn’t exactly cold. it was the perfect weather.

you turned back to Rosita, she was now focused on checking on the vegetables, making sure everything was growing properly and nothing was turning rotten. biting your lip as you thought, you sat up and crawled over to her.

slowly, you trailed your finger up her arm, leading it all the way up to her neck. you leaned forward, pressing one light kiss in that spot.

Rosita froze, “what do you think you’re doing?” she questioned, still not turning to you. you hummed, “what do you mean?”

“i’m working, baby. not now.” Rosita stated strictly. you pouted, but knew you weren’t going to stop until she finally broke. when she got back to work, you started to think of a new plan.

you moved to sit behind her, and wrapped your arms over her from behind. while placing your head in the space between her neck and shoulder, your hands slid down her thighs, squeezing them lightly.

one of your hands trailed back up, and slid between her legs, cupping her whole. Rosita tensed as she let out a slight gasp, “you’re playing with fire, baby.” she whispered.

“i want you.” you whispered back pleadingly. your lips were directly next to her ear, so you whimpered out, “i want you so bad.”

it seemed to be the breaking point for Rosita as she stood up and grabbed your hand to pull you up as well and drag you towards behind the building.

Rosita pushed you against the wall and trapped you in, her lips attaching to your neck. your jaw fell open with silent moans.

“what’s wrong with you? teasing me and touching me while i’m trying to work?” she hissed out at you in between kisses. you gasped, “need you, Rosita.”

“yeah?” she taunted, and you can tell she was at her limit with you. her hands worked on the button and zipper of your jeans and she pulled them down along with your underwear.

Rosita placed her fingers at your wet entrance, barely prodding her fingers inside of you. you whined, hips bucking up into her fingers, “please.”

she finally pushed her fingers inside of you and you let out an accidental loud moan. Rosita slapped her hand over your mouth, “do you want people to know what i’m doing to you back here? how i’m making you feel from just my fingers? you want everyone to see you with my fingers so deep inside of you?”

you felt your legs go weak at her words. your hand reached up to grab onto her shoulder as her fingers ruthlessly thrusted in and out of you. suddenly, her thumb reached up to run at your clit. you moaned into Rosita’s hand, eyes rolling back. 

deep inside of you, you felt the approaching orgasm. Rosita removed her hand from your mouth, “i’m close.” you whispered. as you said that, Rosita removed her fingers.

you whined again, and she smirked. “you really thought i was just going to let you cum? after what you did to me?” a scoff left her lips as she teasingly rubbed feather-light circles on your swollen clit.

Rosita leaned forward and sloppily connected your lips, slipping her fingers back into your hole. your hips jolted at the overstimulation and moaned into her mouth.

she resumed her fast, unrelenting pace on you. your juices ran down her finger as she repeatedly plunged them in and out of you. Rosita bit your lip and when you moaned out, she slipped her tongue inside, swallowing all of your moans.

the pleasure was overwhelming, and you were struggling to keep quiet. her fingers worked magic on you, she knew your body better than you did. she knew just what to do to make you go insane.

her fingers kept pushing in and out of you until you felt your orgasm approach once more. you whined into her mouth and squeezed your legs around her hand. your whines became louder the closer your orgasm got, but before it could hit you, Rosita removed her fingers again.

“Ro, please.” you cried out. “please, i’ll do anything. please baby, i want to cum. i want to cum for you.” you begged.

Rosita’s mouth opened in a smirk, “i didn’t even have to ask you to beg for me. you’re so fucking needy, aren’t you?”

you nodded into her neck, breathing heavily. “okay, i’ll give you what you want. but only because you’re being so good for me.”

Rosita entered her fingers into you once more and you moaned out, gripping onto her shoulders for balance. the squelching sound filled your ears as she moved her fingers at a fast pace.

her thumb rubbed at your puffy clit simultaneously again, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

your legs tensed and you squeezed them together as you felt the feeling rise in your core. “close?” she asked in a whisper. you nodded, gasping when she moved her fingers even faster.

your orgasm came closer and closer until it hit you like a truck. before you could scream out, Rosita slammed her lips against yours to swallow your pretty sounds. her fingers fucked you through your orgasm until your legs became shaky from the powerful feeling.

“so good for me.” Rosita whispered against your lips. “don’t tease me while i’m trying to work again, yeah?” she asked with a small chuckle.

“if you’re gonna fuck me like that? i don’t know…” you trailed off teasingly. she raised her eyebrows, “oh you’re such a little shit.” she mumbled, pushing you against the wall again and shutting you up with a kiss.

[legolasghosty]

writing prompt of Juke as Enemies to Lovers + "you can throw how many darts at it as you want, but you still put her picture on your wall"

Anon, I am so so so sorry for how long this has taken! I swear my brain just hasn't been working for creative stuff and I'm sorry but here it finally is, I hope you find it!

-----

"I hate her," Luke growls as he enters the studio, slamming the door behind him.

"No you don't," Alex sighs from his corner of the couch, hunched over a history book.

Luke just shoots a glare at him. Alex rolls his eyes and grabs a pencil to start filling out the questions on his worksheet. Luke turns to Bobby, who is taking up the rest of the couch with his unfairly long legs.

"Don't look at me, dude," Bobby sighs, giving him a flat stare. "I'm with Alex on this one."

Alex reaches out and offers Bobby a fist bump without looking up. The two bump knuckles and Luke fumes.

"Do you guys even listen to me?" he exclaims. "Julie Molina is literally the bane of my existence."

At that, Reggie just starts laughing from his spot on the coffee table. "Really, Luke?" he teases. "Julie?"

Alex chuckles as well. "Yeah, not like, I don't know, biology or your curfew or the flu or something?"

"She's literally the worst person I have ever worked with!" Luke cries, fed up with the distinct lack of sympathy from his no longer best friends.

"You printed out her picture in the school yearbook to pin up on your wall," Bobby points out.

"For literal target practice!" Luke nearly yells. "And it's working, I've gotten pretty good at nailing that gap between her front teeth. And her eyes. And all the little colored things in her hair." When his bandmates don't say anything, Luke barrels on. "She won't say two words to me that aren't directly connected to this stupid assignment, she won't meet up anywhere other than school to work on it, and she glares at me for 'humming too loud', even though I know she's an amazing musician!"

Luke has hated Julie Molina for the better part of a year now, and it's easy for him to trace it back to its beginning. She'd performed in a spring recital at the school last year. She'd blown Luke's socks off with her incredible voice. It shook him down to his bones and he couldn't wait to find her afterwards and tell her how amazing it had been. He hadn't been able to find her, but hadn't worried much. They went to the same school after all.

But when he'd finally run into her a few weeks later near the bathrooms, she'd practically bitten his head off the second he called her a musician. And from that day on, Luke hated her. Because he can take people being rude to him, but turning on music?! Only a monster would do that. And in their interactions since then, she's only proven his point. She's a jerk.

"You can throw all the darts you want, but you still put her picture on your wall," Alex groans. "Have you tried actually having a civil conversation with her? Without talking about music?"

"What else would there be to talk about?" Luke demanded, kicking at the leg of the coffee table in pure frustration.

"Movies?" Reggie suggests.

"School?" Bobby adds.

"Literally any other interesting thing about life?" Alex finishes.

Luke lets out an angry huff and spins on his heel, heading for the bathroom. As soon as it slams shut behind him, Bobby lets his palm connect with his face.

"This is pointless," Reggie sighs. "Just got a text from Jules too, stating that Luke is a selfish moron."

Alex pulls out his phone. "I'm texting Flynn. If they aren't going to have a conversation themselves, then I swear I'm going to lock them in a closet until they do."

"I mean they're both already out," Bobby jokes, but he nods. "But yeah, I'm very sick of the headaches induced by them not realizing they're in love with each other."

"Ditto," Reggie says.

[ameliawarnerr]

Criminal Haven

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2: Emotions? How About No

—The Leader—

Darkness' revelation brings fresh questions to the table. Some of which I could answer right now but I rather not think of them yet and draw conclusions– not without discussing them with Jake.

I glance at him, searching in his face if he's thinking the same. The expression he gives me as he looks down at me tells me that we are indeed thinking the same thing.

“Who is he?” Hannah breaks the silence, her tone has become that of a tired worker. She longer hides her wince as new information keeps surfacing. For her, it might be exhausting. For Jake and I, it is everything. The scheming, the truth and the lies, the masks and the uncoverings– we can never alter our minds out of this catacomb of games.

“He contributed to finding you.” He explains, vaguely. But I think he has not read much of my and darkness' messages. I think he realises that too as he sighs. He pulls someone's emptied chair– Richy’s, I think and places it facing both my and Kai’s chairs.

I add, “He was the most cooperative person, believe me.” I turn to Hannah. “If I were you, I’d thank him.” I curl my lips into a natural smile.

She stares at me, blankly, standing in the middle of the room. She looks as if she doesn't understand what I am implying. She's suffering from unimaginable things, I understand that. I feel that better than anyone else. Considering her condition, I won't ask much of her in whatever escape plan we might come up with. But that doesn't mean she’ll be excused from endeavouring as little as saying a thank you.

‘Say it.’ I mouth to her. My natural smile turned into a threatening one, unintentionally, but I can't deny that it has worked every time.

Her eyes dart to Jake who cannot see my face. I don't know if he encouraged her to do it or not but she whispers, “Thank you.” to the walls as I keep my glare pinned on her.

Go easy on her, I remind myself, mostly because Jake would prefer the same thing. I turn almost too quickly realising how much Jake is interfering in my smallest decisions.

Kai acknowledges her gratitude as he nods to the floor.

I make a mental note: he can be helpful but he's awkward accepting compliments or gratitude. That concludes why it was necessary for me to compliment me and for the same matter, Hannah to thank him. He already believes it my fault that he's here. I'm not afraid to accept that he is. But if he blames the part he played in Hannah's search, he might as well believe that he did it well.

Jake is looking at me strangely. I ignore directly looking at him exactly like I ignored Richy’s defeated figure dropped into a corner, his legs pulled to his chest and his head on his knees.

This isn't like solving a mystery through texting. This is real life and I cannot be vulnerable to one person while being persuasive to someone else on the different chat window.

I have to mention the mindset where my mind weighs more than my heart. That is the only way to get things done. We can be vulnerable when we are safe.

I inhale a deep breath, hardening my posture. “If we really want to get the hell out of here,” I speak loudly, ensuring my voice reaches Richy in the corner. I continue, “We’d need to stick together. Doesn't matter if you hate each other. Suck it up and bear it.”

I’m on my feet when I take a turn towards the door. Richy’s head turned in my direction. I realise, it's not only him. Everyone's looking at me.

“I don't really expect anything from you. Don't want to help? Don't. Just don't get in my way.” I announce, loud and clear. Though expecting the opposite of what words suggest. “Questions?”

Dead silence.

“Need a ten to think?” I provoke.

Kai is the first (and probably the only one who would) raise a question. He begins by quoting me, “Don't want to help? Don't.” I remain composed as he continues, “More like don't want to follow? Then, don't. But you know, whoever leads the way out of here, others will follow him or her.” I break into a smile, realising what he's bringing to others' attention. “You're just initiating to make sure that we follow you.”

I stride towards him as I quote him, “Initiating.” I stop by the chair I was sitting on and place my head on it. “That’s right. I am initiating. And if anyone else had the balls to do the same, they would have. But no one did. I guess that justifies why you should follow me.”

“Well, you couldn't have initiated it if he didn't uncuff you.” He gestures to Jake who is about to interfere. But that looks weak on my part. I appreciate it but I don't need it.

“That's a petty argument.” I cut in before Jake could. I shake my head at Jake as I pace towards Kai.

“Reasonable enough.” He refutes.

Stopping behind his chair, I break off a shim from the chair and use it to unlock his handcuffs. I intentionally pulled the shim from the part of the chair which was reachable in handcuffs.

Jake is by my side in a matter of seconds, probably because he doesn't trust Kai yet. But I do, to a certain extent which tells me he would not physically hurt me. He's just pissed.

“Now,” I talk loudly again. “Anyone up for breaking down that door?” I point at it with one finger.

—The Hacker—

From the moment she called reading Dan and Jessica's conversation illegally an exciting event, I knew she was trouble. And she only keeps proving it again and again. Sometimes, I admire it. Sometimes, it throws me to the edge.

Like right now. I understand what she was aiming for. There's no way out if we operate like five individuals without a common link who we all trust at some level. But she didn't hesitate once before uncuffing this guy none of us knows enough to trust.

Hannah, MC and I stand back as Richy and Pierce hammer their shoulders against the door. They continue thrice without pause but the door doesn't budge. They take a moment.

Kai glances back at me. “Why isn't he helping us again?”

This is why I prefer to work alone (and of course, this preference doesn't apply to MC). I don't like being questioned. “Is the door broad enough for the three of us?” I reason, very calmly.

They continue at it, knowing they are the two least trusted people in our group and raising nonsensical questions wouldn't change that. After six minutes, the door broke.

Neither of the guys step outside. Instead, they step aside, catching their breaths and stealing glances outside the door. MC is the first one to shift to the door. I grab her hand at the threshold. She glances at me as I step outside the door before her. “After me,” I tell her. She complies.

I glance in both directions. The corridor stretches so long in both directions– it seems endless. They are almost identical except there seems to be a little light coming from the right. Little by little, everyone's out in the corridor.

“Which way is it? We should go to the right. There's light coming from there so it isn't a dead end.” Hannah comments, her voice growing anxious.

“Should we break into two groups or something?” Kai suggests as no one addresses Hannah’s opinion because she's making a rookie mistake– being hasty and going with the obvious choice.

I think of Kai’s suggestion but I can't come up with a possible reasonable arrangement of two groups without separating me and MC.

“No.” I answer.

“So we choose one? On what basis?”

“We’ll come up with the basis if you stop asking questions.”

He glares at me, pissed. Then, he glances at MC and looks away. Everytime I say something to him, he looks at her as if reconsidering arguing with me for her sake. My eyes fly to her as well, wondering if she noticed it. But she's distracted and hasn't said anything after stepping out of the door.

She's shifted towards the left corridor. While everyone looks around, she looks down at the floor. I walk to her, she crouches down and picks something up. I bend to see a note in her hand at the same time she springs up. Her head collides with my chin.

She looks up, annoyed as I hide my smile. “What are you, glancing down at me? My guardian angel?” She takes a tiny step back.

“I’d prefer being called a partner.” I retort. “Although, I do feel bad for your guardian angel.”

She shoves a hand at my chest, walking past me but stops. I follow her gaze– everyone looks at us questionably, clearly not having as much fun as us. She clears her throat, the first time getting awkward.

“What does the note say?” Kai asks.

“What does the note say,” she echoes mockingly or …playfully?

I peer at the note as she read, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood/ And sorry I could not travel both.”

“Robert Frost.” I say, immediately.

She nods a couple times. “The road not taken.”

“What’s that?” Hannah asks. I remember our conversations via emails and literature wasn't one of the topics ever. Come to think of it, we had nothing in common.

“A poem.” MC and I say I'm unison.

Kai jumps in. “Didn’t he take the less travelled path?”

Both of us nod. Richy adds something for the first time. “Well, how did he decide which one was the least travelled?” He looks at no one in particular.

“The less travelled one was more grassy.” MC answers.

“So in our case, the less travelled one would be the left one, right? Because it's dark and could be a dead end or something.” Kai remarks.

“So can be the right one.” Hannah weighs in.

“At least it has the probability of having a window.”

I contemplate the poem, analysing from word to word. I remember each word clearly. “No,” I cut in. “We are taking the words at face value. The message of the poem wasn't to travel a less taken route. It was to make a decision carefully.”

MC looks at me, creasing her brows. “Then, we are at square one again.”

“No, we are not. Half of us thought about taking the less travelled path which means that is exactly what he wanted us to think.” I point out.

“Which means,” MC points at the way from where a tiny ray of light penetrates. “That's where we need to go.”

“Exactly.”

We start following the light. I can sense the others are not entirely sure of this but they will begin trusting us as we’ll give them hope by getting nearer to the way out.

A small smile emerges on MC's lips as we walk behind others. “You a literature guy?” She gives me a side look.

“You have no idea.” I tell her and then, I add, “We need to talk.”

She nods. “We do.” She whispers. “The only way that a lunatic could know about Kai is by having access to my messages. You had access to my messages. You're a hacker.” I smile, knowing we were thinking the same thing again.

“We are up against a hacker.”

“One who's pissed off. Can you think of anyone?”

I inhale. “I could think of a thousand. I've screwed many guys in the same field as me but none was as strong as to have all of us here.”

She considers it silently.

“We have another thing to discuss.”

She thinks for a moment as she arrives at no answer, she looks at me, “What thing?”

“Unlocking his handcuffs when you know a hundred ways it could turn out as a bad idea.” I don't beat around the bush.

“I needed to show him that I trust him to have him do the same. And I don't like being looked down upon.”

“I know you won't stop doing risky things just because I tell you not to. And I won't tell you that. Just promise to give me a heads up before you do something like that again. Deal?” I say, softly.

“Deal. But you have to promise not to talk me out of my stunts.”

“Deal.”

She offers her fist and I bump mine against it lightly.

______________________________________

*Not edited*

______________________________________

I wanna thank @lyon-amore and @itsnotzka for helping me figure Darkness' character. The reason this chapter took me as long as it did is because i was having trouble with Darkness' character because I forgot most of him.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

Thanks for reading!

:)

[just-some-teag]

The Fallen Angel's Guardian Demon: Chapter 1

Thanks to @oculianilluvinial here on AO3 and @onemoregayapollokid on Tumblr for beta reading this. Please note that neither the emails nor the phone numbers for the characters work.

Please note this, as it will come up in later chapters: Angels and those descended from angels will have elf ears rather than none, and elf ears are prehensile like cat ears.

Word count: 2.9k

================================================

A few days after the most recent Extermination, a moose demon sits at a desk in her quiet office while she sorts through a stack of torn papers. Once she pairs two pieces together, she sadly sighs and writes down the name of the dead Sinner. The torn contracts are the usual for post-Extermination bookkeeping. Under the name of the lost soul, she adds some bullet points of the Sinners who should know of this soul's death. As always, the list includes the names of the souls she controls at the top and the names of the demons under the control of other Overlords so that she can write letters to their Overlords.

The office is fairly large, with more chairs than one would think is needed for a solitary Overlord. All of her furniture is made of Hell's version of mountain mahogany, with the chairs and loveseat upholstered with wool. A television from the 1950s sits in the back corner of the office, almost directly mirroring the cathedral radio on a shelf near the desk. A black, gold, white, and red Turkish rug lays underneath the majority of the furniture. It was a gift to the Overlord from one of her owned souls for keeping him safe from his abuser. An analogue clock hangs on the walnut panelling of the wall, ticking a soft reminder to the moose of the interview she wanted to watch: the Princess of Hell promoting something on 666 News.

The office isn’t the only room on this floor; a smaller conference room sits further down the hallway, with magical alarms that sit at odd intervals between the two doors. The sigils were laid by an old friend of the Overlords and made to trigger when an unfamiliar soul signature crosses over them without one of the staff with them. A useful gift that the moose is still trying to repay–even if the sigil maker has refused all repayment other than taking the souls that land in his territory that he knows she should have. It's an odd gesture, but it’s always welcomed. 

The Overlord’s eyes slide over to the analogue clock on her wall before heading over to the 1950s-style television and turning it on. It’s all she can do to hope the Princess can handle dealing with Katie Killjoy without being humiliated. The news broadcast intro music, and the program's name floats into view of the screen before fading to the blonde praying mantis and gas mask Sinners. A shorter blonde woman with bright red circles on her cheeks sits nervously in the interviewee's chair with her attention on a camera.

“Welcome back!” The shrill voice of the head news anchor cuts through the previous silence, causing the moose’s ears to pin themselves back to protect against it. “We’re here with the daughter of Hell’s head honcho, Charlotte Morningstar!” The shorter blonde woman on the screen seems to shrink into herself a little as she attempts to correct Katie Killjoy, but she is ignored. “Charlotte, tell us about this new passion project that you’ve been incessantly pestering our new station about!” The crazed look on her face doesn’t hide her inner thoughts, ‘ We’ve only accepted because you’ll bring more publicity and money to us .’

“Well,” Princess Morningstar takes a deep breath, bracing her hands on the newsdesk before speaking, “as most of you know, I was born here in Hell. Growing up, I always tried to see the good in everything around me, even during the darkest times.” A beetle crawls across the desk in front of the newswoman, who takes her pen and stabs it. The moose-demon’s eyes look towards her television as she hears the thunk of the pen, her eyes following the trajectory of the beetle guts to where it lands on the princess’ face and, for a moment, she hopes that the princess puts the insolent newswoman in her place.

Instead, she wipes it off with a mildly disgusted look and the tips of her ears becoming hidden in her hair due to her ears laying flat against her head before continuing, “Hell is my home, a-and you are my people. We… just went through another Extermination; we lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see my people slaughtered every year.” The princess’ face hardens as she says her next sentence, not even noticing that Killjoy has fallen asleep next to her, “No one is even given a chance!” She slams her hands on the desk with frustration written across her face, and her ears become visible again. The short look of shock at being woken up flashes across the newscaster’s face. She quickly dons a look of confusion as Princess Morningstar gets up in the middle of her speech and walks around the studio audience.

“So I’ve been thinking, isn’t there a more humane way to hinder the overpopulation of Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through… redemption?” A camera follows the princess as she moves about the audience, and a small split-screen on the television shows the news reporters and the princess as she slides an arm across a Sinner's shoulders. “Well, I think yes! So, that’s what this project aims to achieve!” The camera follows her as she heads back to the news desk.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between, I’m opening the first of its kind, a hotel that rehabilitates Sinners!” She looks so proud of her idea but gets no reaction from the Sinners in the studio. The moose demon hums thoughtfully at her desk as she thinks it over before nodding, grabbing a blank piece of paper, and starting to write.

“I can think of a couple of my souls who would want to get rehabilitated, and others, including them, who don’t deserve to be down here,” Ameillia says as she gets to writing a letter to the princess to offer her help with protection and new patrons. She keeps an ear trained in the direction of the television, waiting for what the Princess of Hell says next. When nothing except a small sigh comes from the television, the moose looks up. The princess looks self-conscious while no one says anything, losing what little confidence she had when proposing her idea.

“Y’know? ‘Cause hotels are for people passing through…” Running out of even more steam, she looks defeated, and the tips of her ears lower enough to be visible as they pass through the curtain of her hair, “temporarily…” The princess seems increasingly uncomfortable as she tries another time to get a reaction other than judging silence from the audience, “I think it’ll serve a purpose… a place to work toward redemption… yay..!” Another demon’s voice comes through the television speakers, but it’s unintelligible right before the camera shakes and almost falls to the ground.

The moose winces at the now quiet voice of the Princess of Hell, finishing up the letter to her and calling the Overlord’s fastest messenger to take the letter to the princess and her associates. She returns to going through the stack of torn contracts and continues writing. When the princess’ singing voice and the piano sound come through the television speakers, the Overlord’s ears pin themselves to her head in secondhand embarrassment for the heir to the throne.

“Oh dear… you’ve chosen public ridicule for your advertisement, eh?” Her voice is soft as the messenger comes in and takes the proffered letter, “Take this to Station 666, hand it to either the Princess of Hell herself or an associate of hers. Hurry, they might be leaving the studio soon.” The messenger nods and takes off, the feathers on their wings making little noise as they rush out of the room to their launching pad. The princess’ song is still going as the moose heads over to the television to turn it off and then to her cathedral radio to switch it to the jazz channel to have something to listen to while she works. A short look of melancholy fills her face as she looks at the red and gold radio, her mind automatically going to her friend, the Radio Demon.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

An owl Sinner arrives at Station 666 as the Princess of Hell and her companion exit the building. They land in front of the two women and wait for the white-haired woman to be calmed by the Princess. The owl appears unphased by the sudden angelic spear at their throat, and they just hold up the letter from their Overlord.

“Vaggie, don’t! They have something to give us!” The princess nudges down the other woman's spear and steps before her, “I’m so sorry. Were you looking to join my hotel?” The Sinner looks briefly panicked before shaking their head, continuing to try to hand the letter to the princess.

“Princess Morningstar, my Sovereign Overlord, the Guardian Demon, would like to offer her financial support and guardianship of your hotel,” the owl speaks softly, moving forward a step as the princess’ limousine pulls up behind them. “Please read over her letter and respond to her post-haste. She’s over in the gated territory inside the Radio Demons district. No one will harm you, although, if you wish for more protection as you head to her territory, please contact the number enclosed in the letter to request her to send someone to escort you.” The owl bows deeply as they finish speaking, moving to the side as a small goat-like Hellborn goes to open one of the doors into the back of the limo.

“Uh—” the princess looks shocked to hear the Sinner speak to her so politely as she takes the letter from them. “Thank you for delivering this to me. Would you like a ride back to your overlord’s territory to get a small respite for your wings?” The owl smiles as they shake their head, looking fairly grateful for the offer.

“Apologies, Your Highness, I need to get back to my overlord as soon as I can,” they bow their head as the princess and her companion duck into the vehicle, “because I’ll need to deliver more letters to other overlords for her. Again, please try to contact her as soon as possible, Your Highness.” The owl Sinners’ wings open wide and take to the sky; the only indication they’ve taken off is the sudden gust of air rushing into the limousine. Vaggie watches as they fly away, a shimmer of sadness in her eyes that barely shows. The flying owl takes note of this as they fly away, making sure that they remember to tell their overlord.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As the moose demon catalogues who she lost in the Extermination, the Princess of Hell, her girlfriend, and their one patron arrive at the Happy Hotel. The rundown hotel looks like a mishmash of different eras and buildings. Half of a pirate ship sticks out of the building near the bottom, and the crow's nest is connected to a whole mast that sticks up from the ship's deck. A carousel sits on the opposite roof; it passively runs with no music emanating from it. The trio slinks into the building. The white-haired woman slumps onto a nearly broken couch that faces a very clearly collapsed fireplace while the spider demon slinks to a fridge in the back of the entry hall. He digs around and pulls out a partially melted popsicle box.

“Eh, it’s probably a good idea to get some actual food in this joint,” the man speaks in a New York accent with a sarcastic tone as he waves a popsicle about, gesturing to the empty and rundown lobby. “Y’know, to feed all of th’ wayward souls ya got in here!” He forces a chuckle to try to make light of his hurtful statement, wanting to apologize as soon as he says it because of the princess’s face. He watches dejectedly as she leaves the room, knowing he messed up by saying that. “Angel Dust! What the fuck was that!” Vaggie angrily says from the couch, going onto her knees and turning around to face him, “You’ve already done enough to hurt her today. Why the fuck would you even try to joke about that? You participated in a territory war; thankfully, you didn’t actually kill anyone, and it was evident through the feed we had in the studio that you had taken drugs beforehand!” Angel has the grace to look chagrined at the scolding and moves to the other end of the couch.

“I know we went over this in the limo, but come on Angel,” she sounds exasperated as he sits near her, and she continues. “You’re here to at least try to get redeemed. If you continue to join territory wars, abuse drugs, and participate in porn, you might not be able to be redeemed. Charlie wants you to be happy, and you’re not! We can both tell that you’re not happy whenever you have to go to work, and you almost always return depressed.” The spider shrinks in on himself as she continues to lecture him. He goes to speak when the front door opens and closes again, a quiet thump coming from that direction.

“Charlie, sweetheart? Is everything-” Vaggie’s concerned question is drowned from Charlie’s hearing as a haunting knock in the rhythm of ‘shave and a haircut, two bits’ sounds from the door behind her. She startles away from the door she’s leaning on and turns to it, barely able to see the outline of the person behind it.

She cautiously opens the door, freezing at the red fabric filling her vision when she looks behind it. Slowly, she moves her head upwards to look the person in the face. Her eyes move past the white-lined red lapels of a blazer over a blood-red dress shirt, leading to a black bowtie with a scarlet oval-shaped gem in the centre. The princess’ eyes continue upwards, where she sees a sharp and yellowed grin before making eye contact with the crimson eyes of the person in front of her. A low static comes from him, becoming louder each second as she stares without saying anything.

“It is quite rude to stare, my dear!” because she’s staring terrified into the demon's eyes. Charlie doesn’t see his mouth move as he speaks, “Hello! It-” She closes the door quickly and retreats back to where her partner and Angel Dust sit.

“Vaggie, the Radio Demon-” she mimes the demon's large smile before continuing with her sentence, “-is at the door!” She groans with her hands dragging down her face before speaking again while sounding distressed, “What should I do?” Her girlfriend looks terrified while their one resident just looks confused.

“Th’who now?” The protests of Vaggie drown out his question.

“Well, don’t let him in! Who knows why he’s here?” she shouts, a tone of fear in her voice, and she’s clearly worried about what the demon outside has planned for the inhabitants of the Happy Hotel. “Why don’t we send Razzle or Dazzle to go get the Guardian Demon? She did offer to protect the hotel, and this would be the perfect time to ask for her protection. I know you don’t like fighting, and I don’t think Angel and I could subdue the Radio Demon if he’s here to hurt us.” Charlie looks like she’s considering it as a shadow seems to spread across the floor, taking up residence in the fireplace.

“Wait, wait, wait- the Guardian Demon approached ya two broads in th’flesh to offer protection of this place?” Angel Dust’s confusion switches to shock as he puts his hands in a T while he speaks, “She doesn’t leave her territory except for th’Overlord meetin’s or ta protect her people! How th’fuck did your broadcast manage to pull her from there?”

“Well, not in the flesh… But she did send one of her people to deliver a letter to me…” The princess pulls out the letter delivered to her by the owl earlier and opens it. The letter's length momentarily takes her aback, a bit shorter than what she expected, but she quickly skims over it. Her face brightens, and she smiles happily at what the Overlord wrote.

As Charlie takes out her phone and starts dialling the number on the letter with the extension, the Radio Demon sends out another of his Shades to go and invite his old friend to join him at the hotel. He’s barely paying attention to what the princess says on the phone, only noticing when the Shade inside the hotel alerts him to her moving back towards the front door after hanging up. He widens his smile as the door opens again to show the Princess of Hell.

“May I speak now?” He asks her, prepared to put on a show until his old friend arrives.

================================================

[1]: Dear Princess Charlie Morningstar of Hell, heir to the throne,

I’m known as the Guardian Demon and the Overlord of the Abused, so you can imagine that your project intrigues me in terms of what it can accomplish. I have many souls that don’t deserve to be down here, their only sin being that they killed someone in defence of themselves or others. I am willing to come to your hotel with these people as long as I’m able to participate in their rehabilitation and protection. I’m also willing to provide financial support for whatever charges my souls incur on you.

I look forward to hearing from you concerning this.

Sincerely, Ameillia Azaadi The Guardian Demon Overlord of the Abused (Signature: A . A)

Email: Guard.Abused.825@pridemail.hell Landline: +666 (632) 555-6958, ext. 825

[lemonluvgirl]

Drinking Games

Ok, so this is a hard one and I think it will be very apparent to all who read why I decided to not include it in the story. Set in the Golden Cages universe after Katniss' rescue. It begins with the idea of everyone discussing what age they lost their virginity. They are sitting around, drinking some contraband liquor they found and just shooting the shit. But then hijacked Katniss decides to come out and play!

It's just 100% angst and heartbreak. But also drama. SO MUCH DRAMA.

trigger warnings for mentions of loss of virginity, brain-washing, mind tricks, and really f*cked up situations.

“Fine. 18. District 12. Victor’s Village.” 

“Better late than never!” 

“Must have been true love, if you waited that long.” 

They pass me the bottle, I stare at it dumbly. 

I feel a hollow pain, like something sharp rattling around in my empty chest at this comment. For a moment I can’t decide whether I want to drink from it or not anymore.

But then I think of the horrors of the day, the perils in the future. And the only thing I am certain of is that whatever the future holds, I will never have a night like that night she climbed in my window again. She and I are broken beyond repair. And all I want is to forget. So I take a big swig and try not to cough as the liquor burns through me on the way down. 

Despite my efforts though, I do cough, right at the very end. And I wait for them to start teasing and cracking jokes, but everyone is suddenly quiet. I look around and see their eyes glued to a spot almost directly behind me, a little to my right. And I feel her presence a split second before I hear her voice. 

“Same.” She says as she takes a seat a few spaces down from me. “At least I think so. I guess I don’t know. I was hoping someone could vouch for me, my memory being what it is.” She adds as an afterthought. Then she cocks her head towards me, staring directly into my eyes, and blinks at me, emotionlessly. Waiting for me to agree or contradict her. But I’m so startled by her sudden appearance, I can’t speak.

“I guess that’s a no. So, it was you then?” She comments without concern, as she swivels her head in Gale’s direction. Their eyes meet, and he stares at her incredulously. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. How can you not remember anything about that at all?” He replies in a flabbergasted manner after she continues to stare at him expectantly. 

She widens her eyes in what can only be described as cold calculation and then pins him with a sardonic smirk. 

“The problem isn’t that I don’t remember anything at all. It's the opposite. There are about a dozen different versions in my head that all contradict each other. Sometimes it's you. Sometimes it's him,” She cocks her head over in my direction but doesn’t look at me, “Sometimes it's even him.” She says in an amused voice and she looks over at Deen. 

Deen looks like he’s going to be sick. Gale’s eyes narrowed at her harshly. I feel dreadfully numb. What the hell is she thinking, talking about all this so openly? No one else mentioned specifics. No one else was bringing faces and names into this. The atmosphere shifts, completely, to a darker, more unbelievably horrific tone. 

“They liked messing with that memory. Picked it apart until the pieces were so tiny they blew away like dust in the wind. The overall theme I believe was that I had some kind of incest fetish.” She says as she laughs darkly, so coldly it sends a shiver down my spine. Who the hell is this woman? The feeling of sitting next to a stranger who wore the face of the girl I had loved all my life came back then.  I was consumed by the surreal horror of it. 

“You know, the whole cousin thing.” She tells Gale with a pointed look. “Then the surrogate brother,” She elaborated as she looked over at Deen again who now seems to have gotten over being nauseated and moved on to being pissed. But he wasn’t looking at her, he was staring straight at the ground with such a furious gaze. 

“Then of course they tried to make some connection between the blond hair and blue eyes he and my sister share. The implication being I wanted to sleep with my own flesh and blood sister and used a substitute.” She says as she glances at me quickly. And my numbness rushes away and is replaced by instant revulsion so strong I have to fight hard against the compulsion to regurgitate. Her sister? Prim? They had tried to taint the memory of her love for Prim. 

I felt sick, so disgusted by this entire conversation. But she seemed completely unfazed, and unconcerned with how uncomfortable she was making everyone feel. 

“So, what do we do here? Compare dates and times?” She says in a joking voice, but it's obvious no one finds this funny. She laughs anyway. Then Deen is on his feet in a flash, with burning anger in his eyes as he locks gazes at her. But when he speaks he doesn’t yell. He talks slowly and enunciates every word. 

“No. Never. Not once. Not even close. We were never like that. You were never like that, do you hear me? Fuck those pricks! I hope they all rot in hell!” He says finally raising his voice to a shout, and he looks in the direction of the faraway Capitol. He breathes harshly for a minute, before stalking off towards the woods. 

Everything is quiet, in the wake of Deen’s angry confession. There is a brief flicker that could pass for relief that rushes across her face as she watches Deen’s back retreat farther into the forest. But then it's gone and she’s turning back to Gale. 

“One down, two to go. Care to weigh in?” She asks him in an eerily blank manner. Her face is devoid of emotion again. It's painful, how cold she sounds, how unimportant it seems to her. She could be asking about the weather or what he had for lunch. 

He stares at her, hard for almost a full minute. And there is such a fit of resentful anger in his gaze, bordering on hatred. But she seems completely unfazed by it. She just waits for his reply patiently. 

“You sure you wanna do this now? Like this?” He asks her, in a cold detached voice. 

She nods. “I’m getting tired of trying to figure it out on my own.” 

“Fine.” He says through gritted teeth. Then he mimics her head cocking gesture in the direction Deen took off in. “Same. I don’t know what the hell they did to you. I have no idea how they could change any one person so much. But he was right. You were never like this. I can count on one hand the number of times you and I kissed in the seven years we knew each other. That’s not some lie to make you feel better or to save you or anyone from feeling uncomfortable. It's just the damn truth. And you know what else is the truth? This is not you!” 

“And who gets to decide that? You?” She replies with a laugh. It's bitter and mocking. His nostrils flare, and he opens his mouth to say something but then thinks better of it. He closes his mouth, shakes his head at her, and holds his hand out to Joanna for the other bottle. 

“Mind if I borrow that?” He asks. 

“Go ahead. I’d say you earned it.” She says quietly and passes him the bottle. 

“Thanks.” He mutters and stomps off in the direction that Deen left. 

I barely have a second to digest what just happened, and what Gale said, had they only kissed a handful of times? Before she zeros in on me. 

“I guess we’re down to you by process of elimination.” She says as she looks at me. Her gaze is so hollow, so empty it doesn’t even contain sadness or humiliation or anger. She’s just….blank. 

“I guess.” I finally say, not knowing what the hell she wants me to say exactly. She couldn’t want a play-by-play, could she? 

She leaned back as if assessing me. And drummed her fingers on her knee. The icy look in her eyes made my skin crawl. 

“Well, you gonna cop to it or what?” 

I let out a startled laugh, shocked at her words, at her cavalier attitude. Even Joanna wasn’t this emotionless about sex. Joanna at least talked with a wicked gleam in her eye or an impish smile. But...there was nothing underneath Katniss’ gaze. 

And it makes me...hate her. I genuinely, really, hate her, for the first time. Here she was putting our private lives on display again. Dredging up the past, making me and Gale and even Deen seem like interchangeable pegs. I knew that it wasn’t her fault she couldn’t remember what happened. I knew she must somewhere, somehow underneath that mile-thick cold exterior, feel some kind of loss, some kind of pain. Yet, I hated her anyway. For taking this precious thing, this moment and memory that meant more to me, than I could even describe, and cheapening it. Ruining it, with her brash questions and her nonchalant attitude, and her fucking despicable apathy. 

“Sure. You want details?” I ask her, anger fully setting in now. She nods. I pointed an accusatory finger at the middle of her chest. 

“18. Victor’s village. October 29th, 11 pm.  My house. My bed. There was a half moon that night. You climbed in my window. You wore dark blue flannel pajamas, with little white buttons on them. You said you wanted to talk, to apologize for being such a shitty friend. I didn’t want to hear it. I tried to kick you out. You wouldn’t leave. You told me you were sorry for lying to me for so long-”

“What was I lying about?”

“Everything just about. You were never straight with me about what you had with Gale, or how you felt after the Games or any of it. You especially weren't honest about how much you wanted me, and for how long. Almost as much as I wanted you. That’s how it finally happened. Only because for once, you lowered yourself enough to my level to tell me the truth. And like a pathetic idiot, I jumped at the first fucking sign of recognition from you. God. Even now, everything is still on your terms. Always on your fucking terms. And it always will be, except now there’s not even a chance. There’s no way in hell we’ll ever even be friends is there?” 

She stares at me, with such an unreadable expression. It makes me feel like someone turned on a paper shredder and started to feed my heart into it. 

“Don’t worry about answering that. That’s one thing they didn’t change. Even after all they did to try and erase you, they couldn’t change that. Katniss Everdeen never fails rip out my fucking heart every time she has the chance.” I slam the bottle down in front of her and she flinches, just barely. 

But her face is still unreadable. It's like I didn’t even speak. I get up, as quickly as I can and start walking as fast as I can. Just wanting, needing to get away from her empty grey eyes. But I know I can’t escape them. They’ll just find me in my dreams. She always finds me. Still, I try to outrun the overwhelming despair that is close on my heels as I leave, not looking back. 

[everythingsf1ne23]

𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓) | 

𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 & 𝘞𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘯

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🎀💕:

@yarrystyleeza If you want to be added check out my pinned post! 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 💌:

ooh the action is really coming through in this chapter but the next chapter is gonna be even better hehe :) ~Jess

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 📝:

in which, her gang gives a visit to Michael’s house 

𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘷:

I ended up leaving the pharmacy early on Monday after pretending that I felt sick,

I admit I feel bad leaving Molly for probably the whole week but I have to go through with the boys’ plan.

It’s now Tuesday night, I suggested having an early night so I feel less anxious tomorrow, the two of us were in bed at 9p.m.

“Are you feeling okay gorgeous?”, Wayne asks me and I nod,

“Yeah I’m fine, just what if something goes wrong with the plan?”, I turn in our bed so that I’m facing him. 

“Everything is going to be fine, 

they won’t let anyone hurt you, 

remember they promised”, I feel Wayne gently caressing my hair, which is something that he always does before 

we go to sleep.

“Yeah I’m sorry, I’m just being paranoid”

I respond and Wayne looks directly

 into my eyes,

“It’s okay to be scared, I understand that”

“Well as long as I have you,

I’m sure that I’ll be grand, you honestly make me feel so safe Wayne”

“I’m glad that I do, I’ll always protect you”, 

He wraps his arms around me and the two of us fall asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, I’m woken up by my alarm at 8a.m, Glen said that they would be here between 9:30 and 10:00 so now I have plenty of time to get myself ready and make breakfast,

After turning off my alarm, I turn over and gently poke Wayne trying to wake him up.

“Good morning handsome”, 

I notice his eyes opening.

“Morning gorgeous”, Wayne replies and I couldn’t help but smile, he truly is the perfect person for me.

“Is there anything specific that you want for breakfast?”, I ask him.

“Can I have pancakes please?”

“Yeah of course you can?”, I made the pancakes within 20 minutes and the two of us sat down at the table,

I begin eating my pancakes and I notice Wayne staring at me,

“Do I have something on my face?” I question and he chuckles

“No you don’t, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you 

like you’re so beautiful”, I feel my heart almost explode with happiness.

“Aww well I’m ever luckier to have you”

“I’m glad that you chose me”

“I would have always chosen you”.

After breakfast, I got changed from my pyjamas into a white tank top, a black hoodie, black jeans and my leather jacket.

I hear a beep from a car outside so I knew that it was the boys,

“Bye my love, you stay safe”, Wayne tells me and he gives me a kiss.

“I will, I love you”

And with that, I walk out to Glen’s car.

I greet them, “Hey guys” 

as I get into the backseat.

“Well”, was all Clayton said and Glen asked me how I was.

“Oh I’m good”

“That’s good to hear!”, Glen replies as Clayton speaks up again

“So the plan is that now we’re gonna go get the guns from Glen’s Mam and then we’ll go to Michael’s house, Glen is gonna try see if he’s there and you’re his backup as always in case anything happens”

As we got to Glen’s house, the first thing I heard was the dog barking from inside his inclosure, we walk up just as Glen’s Mam told the dog to “shut up”, I’ve met her before and she’s the exact same as my Mam used to be, always annoyed at something and greedy for money.

“We should also go after Viking, 

he deserves a bullet in the head”, Clayton tells us and I nod in agreement while Glen’s Mam hands me a gun along with Clayton 

“They’re giving the most money for getting Michael so you go after him first!”

“He’s a cagey fucker though” Glen says and I add, “Also wouldn’t it be difficult to get Michael?, I mean he’s so careful”

She glared at us,

“It doesn’t matter, you know where he lives and where his young one lives, just fucking find him”

Glen’s Mam, Nellie pushes the gun into Glen’s chest and he gives her a dirty look as he checks the gun to see make sure it won’t seize up. 

“And where the fuck did you go after? Everyone around though that you had died”, Nellie asks me.

“I was in America, being a dj with some friends if you must know”, I respond with attitude as I didn’t particularly like how she was treating Glen, she said nothing back so the three of us went back to the car.

Clayton starts up the engine and the car is silent for a while until I speak up,

“God your Mam is the exact same as when I left, actually maybe even worse now”,

I tell Glen 

“Tell me about it, I don’t even trust these Turks but all she cares about is the money we might get”

“We might get? Jesus Glen, I sure hope that we get that money anyways”, Clayton complains 

“Stop whining! Clayton I wouldn’t trust them either to be honest, I don’t know why Wayne agreed to being partners with Hamza”

Soon enough, we arrive up near Michael’s house,

“This is Michael’s gaff up here”, Glen says and I pull up my balaclava along with pulling my hood.

We check our guns to make sure that they won’t seize up once again.

“Don’t even wait until he opens the door, shoot through the glass”, Clayton warns as Glen pulls up his balaclava and hood.

“I know”, was all Glen replied and we got out of the car, I walk up quickly behind him.

Glen knocks loudly on the door and he puts his gun up, I admit I feel nervous but I couldn’t back away now. 

I hear Glen breathing heavily as he knocks once more, after a few moments, it doesn’t seem like Michael is there.

“Come on before someone sees us!”, Glen exclaims and I run after him.

I hop back into the backseat and Glen gets into the passenger’s seat.

“What’s the story?” Clayton inquires.

“He’s not in there, let’s go”,

And with that, Clayton drives us away.

[charaznablescanontoyota]

for the 3 sentence fic meme - Shaq and Chicago?

He goes to see live theater for the first time in - well, Derrick says it's been over a hundred years that they've been outside the land of the living. Shaq kind of believes him. Anyway, people mostly leave him to himself after the first few weeks in the Firehouse, and he takes the opportunity to actually walk around Chicago, see the parks, eat at restaurants, go to the arcade and the Lyric Opera.

He makes it through one scene of The Magic Flute before he has to slip outside for fresh air.

It's not the quiet, dark, enclosed space that does it, and it's not being packed in a room with so many people. It's fucking O zittre nicht, something about the way the scenery opens up and the Queen of the Night comes out of the moon, larger than life. Something about the glow of the spotlight held like embers in her eyes, the way her dress envelops her like a cloud of black smoke. Panic grips Shaq's chest and won't let go until he's out, whispering an apology to the people sitting on either side of him as he stumbles into the aisle and shuffles to the bright light of the exit doors.

Shaq sits down on the stairs to the mezzanine so heavily it almost knocks the wind out of him, and scrubs his hands over his face. He's being stupid. The last time his heart raced like this at the theater was when his parents took him to see Don Giovanni way too young. It's just playacting - there's nothing to be scared of.

"Goodness," one of the ushers says from the bottom of the stairs. An older woman, dark hair threaded with gray and pinned up at the nape of her neck. "I thought this one was more of a comedy."

"It is," Shaq says into his hands. Then, inanely, as if it matters, "It was my mom's favorite. She had a - a record of it. I used to listen to it to fall asleep as a kid."

"Does it always make you cry?" the usher asks.

"Just the end. Usually."

(And it's a cathartic cry; Pamina and Tamino brave the trials of the elements and prove their love for each other. Who wouldn't cry?)

The usher cocks her head. "What scared you today?"

"The Queen of the Night. " Shaq laughs, watery, like can you fucking believe? He remembers being afraid of the Queen as a kid, but not like this. Not anything that would set his heart hammering this hard.

"Is that how you see me, Shaquille Torres?"

"Fuck," he says. His hands are still over his face - probably not good to look directly at a god, or a city-avatar, or a patron, or whatever. Even if she's currently an usher who looks a little bit like an older version of his tía.

"No," he adds, finally. "I don't know."

"You cried when you first heard the Call."

"I know."

"And when you first heard the Dispa-"

"I know," he says again. Maybe it's rude to interrupt her. Maybe he shouldn't have. The rules aren't clear. "I cry a lot. Surprises make me cry."

"I cannot help being a surprise, at times," Chicago says. "And you were a surprise to me."

Shaq sighs, letting the release of air deflate him, his shoulders sagging. "Great. Then we're even."

(For the record - it is how he's always imagined her, even as far back as Kirby and Josh telling him stories about the city, though he didn't realize it until she asked. He'd never tell her. It feels impolite, to be scared of a city trying its best to welcome him.)

"You have not answered the Call," Chicago says, "to my satisfaction, Shaquille Torres."

"I was dead three weeks ago," he says, pointedly. Sure, he's been using it as a catch-all excuse for most things; in his defense, it's a pretty rock-solid excuse.

"And now you are not," Chicago says. "You are From Chicago. And you have much work to do."

"Cool," Shaq says, maybe a little more derisively than he means to, and gets to his feet.

The usher-that-was-Chicago is gone, predictably. Music is leaking through the shut doors of the theater. He probably hasn't missed much, and he's heard The Magic Flute enough times to pick up where he left off, if and when he goes back inside.

"You couldn't have caught me during Faust or something?" Shaq asks the air. He shoves his hands into his pockets, slouching back towards the theater doors. "The Fiery Angel? Fucking Hamlet? I thought you gods liked thematic cohesion."

He swears he hears a laugh in the opera house's A/C blast.

[godesssiri]

One of my favorite Youtubers Laura Caldwell has done a video of her top 22 thrift finds of 2022 and I thought I might try a top 10. In no particular order:

I found a Herend Queen Victoria pattern ceramic basket. I've never liked ceramic baskets but this is my dream if-I-won-the-lottery dinner set so when I found something in this pattern in a thrift store I HAD to get it.

I got a mid century ceramic panther 2.5 feet tall, no cracks or chips. I had literally had daydreams where I walk into the thrift store and before I'm even in the door I see a ceramic big cat, I make a bee line for it and grab it growling 'Mine!' and march it up to the counter without even looking at the price. When I find out the price it's ridiculously reasonable. The only things that went different to how I'd daydreamed it was that my mother was very embarrassed by my squealing and my brother carried it to the counter for me.

The most stunning 1884 copy of The Life and Exploration of Dr Livingstone The Great Missionary Traveler. There are some horrifically racist bits, it was written by Victorians but he was very anti slavery and in one of his adventures someone was attacked by a lion so there's gorgeous pictures, in gold on the brown leather cover, of a slave with broken shackles and a white man being pinned down by a lion.

I got a parrot carved out of clear quartz with his beak and tail carved out of agate and his crest carved out of adventurine, he's perched on a chunk of amethyst.

A beautifully detailed framed ink drawing of a birds eye view of a snake skeleton in a box, every rib every vertebra and every fang is perfectly detailed and the shadows are all exact. It must have taken someone so long to draw.

A lovely not-for-export rose medallion vase. It's very old and you can tell from the precision of the painting and the lack of a mark that it was made for the Chinese market, they kept the good stuff for themselves and exported the sloppily painted stuff. It likely came to New Zealand with a Chinese family intending to set up market gardens or go gold mining in the late 1800s.

A hand painted plate for hanging on the wall as art. It's a night time jungle scene of a toucan silhouetted against a double waterfall. I'm a biiiiiiiiiiig fan of jungle themed stuff and I love scenes of the jungle at night.

6 pink Arcoroc Rosaline wine glasses. I have collected Rosaline for 2 years and in that time I only ever found 1 wine glass, I've got champagne flutes, cocktail glasses, liqueur glasses, sherbet dishes, bowls in 4 different sizes, more plates than I need, but could I find wine glasses? Then there they were, directly at eye level, $2 each, a set of six. I almost couldn't believe it. I had looked in every single thrift store I'd been in for the last TWO years, and I go thrifting at least twice a week, and in that whole time I had only ever found the 1 single wine glass.

A vintage great white shark jaw. I collect oddities and it was a bucket list find. I didn't expect to ever find one in the wild and I figured if I ever found one online here in New Zealand, I'd be paying a bomb for it, they're illegal to sell here unless they're pre 2006. I walked into my favorite thrift store and embarrassed my mother (again) by squealing when I saw it - embarrassed as she was she still bought it for me for Christmas.

My #1 best find was exactly a year ago today on the 2nd of January 2022. I went to a fabulous vintage market and walked into a booth and just thought 'I'm going to spend $$$ here'. I bought the most stunningly gorgeous hand-painted, artist signed 1865, French porcelain jardiniere with iris' (a flower that has special meaning to me) painted on it and lion handles. It's gorgeous and I got it for a steal considering how old it is and how intact. It's gorgeous colors and exquisite painting.

I probably could do 22 if I sat here for long enough but I'll just add a few honorable mentions:

Brass butterfly candle holders

A taxidermy cane toad (the exact day I had put a display case I already owned onto a new shelf and decided it looked good there I just had to figure out the perfect thing to put in it)

A mid century Italian brass tortoise trinket box

2 lovely Victorian vases and a gorgeous Art Nouveau vase

The perfect plant pot to compliment the Victorian Majolica plant stand that I bought a couple of years ago that was missing it's original matching jardiniere. It's modern but the color is almost exact and the lines are similar enough that it looks like it belongs, especially since I have a lush boston fern in it covering most of the pot.

Lots and lots of the Sun Purple glass I collect, I've gotten really good at spotting it over the last year.

Several gorgeous antique books but especially a set of 3 1910 Natural History books with gorgeous illustrations that were so pretty I took photos of some of them and got them printed on coasters.

The largest paua (New Zealand native abalone) shell that I have ever seen.

A Japanese rip off of the Minton Majolica Monkey teapot, I doubt I'll ever see the Minton one in the wild but I'm very happy to own the bootleg version.