#it’s where he puts his bedazzlements

[nat1volition]

emo dad

[moonlight-records]

A Nonsense Christmas| LH44 (HAC #9)

pairing: lh44 x reader

summary: you're performing at this year's IHeartRadio's Jingle Ball. Your boyfriend is here to support and being the naughty boy he is, has to have some fun with you.

warning: SMUT. oral (f receiving), fingering, lewis loves to spoil reader!!!

fc: sabrina carpenter!

wc: 1.6K

a/n: day 9 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar! also maybe a part two to this??

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | current day | day 10

“Hey babe–damn.” A low whistle behind you, “I’ve never wanted to be on the naughty list more than I do at this moment.”

You look through your mirror to see Lewis leaning against the doorway while your music plays in the background. You put your brush down and turn, smiling at your boyfriend. “You like?” You ask as you gesture to your outfit. You’re in a red corset with a heart shaped window that exposes the tiny bit of cleavage. Attached was a red lacy skirt that barely qualified for a skirt when standing still or sitting with how bunched up it became and therefore, almost nonexistent. Thankfully, you had matching red spanx’s under it.

“I do.” Lewis hums as he looks over your bedazzled corset before his eyes fall to your legs. “Do you have tights underneath?”

“I do,” you gently pull the skin colored tights away from your leg, “skin toned. Why? Worried people would get to see how wonderfully smooth my legs are?” You joke as Lewis makes his way over, laughing. “No, I was worried you’d get cold and everyone would focus on the goosebumps instead of your beautiful face and singing.” Lewis hums as he looks down at you before you gently place your silver bedazzled platform heel against his chest, smiling innocently as the clasps dangle. Lewis glances at you with a raised brow before smiling and clasping your shoe. You drop your foot and he gently pats his chest as you put your other foot against his chest as he clasp your other shoe. “Thank you darling.” You hum as you turn back around to finish your makeup as Lewis kisses your head gently, “you’re welcome, love.”

Grabbing a chair, Lewis sits next to you while watching you finish your makeup. “Do you have a copy of your set list?” You happily slide him the set list while applying your lipstick. You lean back after cleaning up the corners and glance to your boyfriend before grabbing his chin gently and planting kisses all over his face. You giggle, pulling back to admire the pale lipstick littering your boyfriend’s face. Lewis blinks away his shock before leaning in to look at himself in the mirror, laughing softly. “What’s this?” He looks at you. “Getting rid of the excess lipstick,” you remark innocently.

“Oh really? Because to me, it looks like you’re making your territory.” Lewis smirks as he tilts his head slightly. You look at him, and hate how god damn stunning your boyfriend looks. Even in his simple black long sleeve and matching jeans with combat boots, he looked like a Greek God trying to disguise themselves as human. You can’t help yourself as you close the gap, kissing him.

It’s very rare that you and Lewis take things “slow”. Sure, in the beginning you and Lewis tested the water, especially Lewis history with dating pop stars. You refused to be burned like the others and Lewis, much more calmer now that he’s older, wanted to prove that he changed and was serious. It was nice. The dates, the lazy mornings when he was home, the sex.

Sex with Lewis was probably the best. Sure, it was because he was older and actually knew what he was doing but there was much more. He was attentive. He was caring. He was open and very vocal and yet so laid back. You didn’t have to pretend that you liked something with Lewis or have to keep quiet on trying new things. You two would sit in the tub after, debriefing and telling each other what you guys like and don’t like. You two were open with fantasies and kinks. It was probably the first relationship where you felt so cared for and heard in bed that you constantly wanted to be riding your boyfriend.

But right now, you two had about 20 minutes before you were going to be brought backstage to perform next so slow was not an option. Pulling back, your breathing was labored as you found yourself straddling Lewis feeling his hard as you shift your hips, smirking when a low groan escapes past Lewis lips. You yelp in surprise when Lewis picks you up before placing you on the vanity. Your eyes flutter close, feeling Lewis start to kiss and nip at your neck, rolling your hips against his. “Ah, be careful Mr. Hamilton. I have to go on soon and can’t have people focused on the hickies.” Lewis pulls back and you giggle seeing him still littered with all your lipstick stains. You were a hypocrite, yes, but it would take you forever to carefully cover all of them given your outfit basically covered nothing.

“How long do you have till you go out to perform?” Lewis asks. “20 minutes.” Lewis thinks. “I can get you to finish in ten.” Lewis murmurs which makes you shudder as he hooks a finger under your spanx and you lift your hips to help him pull them down just enough, taking your panties and tights as well while Lewis drops to his knees and tosses your legs over his shoulders. “Lewis!” You hiss as he kisses your inner thighs, looking up at you through his lashes, “hm?” Your heart flips seeing that mischievous grin on his face. Putting your lips together, “if you don’t get me off in ten minutes I’ll be really upset.”

“Oh baby,” Lewis murmurs, working his way up your thigh, “I would be more worried about if you’ll be able to perform when I’m done.” Lewis murmurs slowly against your skin as he starts to gently play with your folds. You whine as Lewis tries to softly shush you. Before you can ask, Lewis pulls your thighs apart as far as they can go before dipping his head between your legs.

Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the loud moan as Lewis takes a long deep lick across your slit. The heat from his tongue makes your head dizzy as he finally gets to work. You tilt your head back against the mirror as his tongue starts working on your clit. Your free hand flies to his braids when his tongue switches from kitten licks and figure eights. You arch your back mouth falling open when Lewis inserts two fingers into you, making a v-shape.

You snap your mouth shut as you fumble for your phone to turn your music up praying it’ll mask the almost pornographic noises that Lewis was creating between your legs. “I—fuck. Lewis,” you moan lowly as you try to keep your voice in check. You did not want to be banned from getting ahead before performing. You make the grave mistake of looking down and oh fuck.

Lewis is looking up at you through those stupidly beautifully long lashes. His lips and chin are slick and glistening from your juices when he pulls away just a few mere centimeters. Your chest is heaving, face and body flushed, and legs trembling slightly. The familiar burning is starting to form in your lower stomach as Lewis curls his fingers and hits that spot. You arch your back again and tug at his braids which causes Lewis to grunt softly. “Yes darling?” Lewis murmurs as he leaves wet kisses your inner thighs while continuing to pump his fingers into you.

A shudder runs down your thigh when you feel Lewis’ breath on your core before his head dips back between your legs. Your orgasm is rapidly approaching and let out a silent scream when it hits you harder than before. Your legs shake as you tip your head back, instinctively closing your legs and attempting to crush Lewis with your thighs. He grips your thighs tightly trying to free his jaw slightly as he works you through your orgasm, cleaning you up with his tongue. He finally leans back, pulling his fingers out of you slowly. “Beautiful.” Lewis murmurs as he stands.

You're seeing stars with your legs still shaking slightly but finally look at your boyfriend. Grabbing his wrist, you take his fingers into your mouth and lick his fingers clean. You watch his eyes darken even more as his breath becomes a bit labored as he watches you before slipping his fingers out of your mouth. You tilt your head when Lewis leans over you, kissing your neck up to your jaw, murmuring against your skin. “So beautiful and good for me. You look so good spread out for me like this.” He works his way up to your ear nipping softly at your earlobe. “We’ll finish this after your set, okay?”

You hum gently while bringing your gaze down to his pants. You bite your lip because damn, you really were willing to risk a ban if it meant having Lewis inside you. “You sure?” You ask as Lewis grabs some wipes nearby (and double checking they were baby wipes) before cleaning you up gently and then his face which included some lipstick stains but that’s fine. “Positive. You have to perform soon and don’t think you want to look so messy for your fans,” Lewis smirks. He helps you off the vanity and even has the courtesy to help you pull up your tights and shorts.

Once you sit in your seat, Lewis kisses you on the forehead with a smile. “I’ll see you after. Remember, have fun and be yourself. You’ll do great.” He massages your shoulders for a moment before you turn and give Lewis a kiss and watch him start for the door, adjusting himself and glancing back. “Is there—”

“Right next door.”

Lewis grins, mouthing a ‘thank you’ and ‘love you’ before heading to the bathroom. You turn back and smile while shaking your head. Fixing yourself, you stand up and shake slightly. Grabbing your cane, you use it as a walking stick as you head backstage for more nonsense Christmas fun.

[briefalpacashark]

~Drunk Boys~

The boys from 141 get drunk and you have to pick them up.

Warning: Drunk, violence.

Parts inspired from New Girl. If you know you know.

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One lovely evening you sat in your little office space. The boys had headed off quite some time ago for a few drinks. Your usual Friday night outing didn't include you that time because of a few reports you had put off. It was pulling onto 1am when your phone started to ring. It was a new number you had never seen before.

“Hello, this is Y/N speaking,” you said.

“Hey uh doc?” It was Gaz voice that came through the call. 

“Gaz?” you asked.

“Who you talking to?” you could hear Jonny ask in the background.

“I'm talking to doc,” Gaz stated.

“Oh, why?” Jonny whispered.

“I don't know,” Gaz murmured back. It didn't take a detective to establish by their slurred tones that they were drunk.

“Gaz, why are you calling me from a random number?” you asked.

“I don't know. Our phones got wet,” he explained.

“Our?” you asked.

“Yeah Me, Soap, Ghost and Price,” he stated with a sassy tone, as if it was your fault for not knowing. 

“So you fucked you phones?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Gaz nodded.

“And you called me, why?” you asked. There was silence for a bit.

“Captain, why am I calling Doc again?” Gaz asked.

“Because we lost the fucking car and we need a lift back to base,” Price snapped in the distance.

“Because we lost the fucking car and we need a lift back to base,” Gaz tone was much calmer and sweeter than Prices. A small smile worked its way onto your face.

“Alright, ill be there soon. Where are you?” you asked, making your way to the door.

“Not at the base,” Gaz said.

“I know that Gaz. Where are you now?” It was like talking to a toddler.

“Oh, We're at McDonalds,” he said before the line went dead. There were three McDonalds in the town. You thought they would be at the one closest to the bar. You were right. You were about to pull into the car park when you paused. Alittle down the street, right under the McDonalds sign sat four blobs. Driving up to it, you slammed on the brakes at what you saw. 

Price was sitting with his arms crossed. His hat looked to have been ripped in half and then shakily put back together with some staples, a tuft of his hair sticking out the top. Next to him Ghost with a traffic cone on his head and one tucked in his lap as he sat cross-legged. He was hugging it, and the one in his lap had been drawn on, and made up to look like a person, with a hat and a bikini loosely tied around it. One of his jacket sleeves was missing as if it had been torn clean off. Jonny sat next to him shirtless, with a patch of hair missing from his chest. Over it a pink glittery 21st birthday sash. His mohawk sprinkled with glitter and a kilt. Gaz had left in a pair of jeans, he was now in a pair of pink booty shorts that you would place money on that had some word like bitch or booty on the back of bedazzled gems. A crown of beer cans ducked taped around his head compelled the fit. All about them, strewn across the floor was a variety of McDonald's food, ranging from ice-creams to nuggets. They were all happily munching away. And they were all missing their left shoe?

You got out of the car phone at the ready.

“Say cheese boys,” you called. Drunkenly, they all looked up in your general direction, taking a photo. You chuckled, pocketing your phone and hands as you looked over them all. Wondering what the hell happened to them. 

“Ah, it's doc. What are you doing here, lovey?” Jonny asked in excitement, throwing his hands to the air.

“I'm here to pick you boys up,” you said.

“Pah, no we're alright. We've still got to go to another bar. Ain't that right LT?” Jonny asked, waving you away.

“Aye. I want another lager,” Ghost stated defiantly.

“I think you boys have had enough. Just look at the state of ya,” you gestured to them. 

“Wow, body shaming. Shame on you Y/N,” Gaz slurred, shaking his head disappointingly.

“Your all wet. Each of you has a piece of clothing damaged and all of you haven't even made eye contact with me yet,” you explained. Instantly, they all turned to stare into your eyes.

“Bull shit,” Jonny hiccuped before taking a bite of his burger. 

“Sargent, Report,” Price spoke up. You paused, considering his words as he stared down at the road in front of him.

“Report sir?” you asked. He nodded, tipping forward ever so slightly. Your eyes widened. He was absolutely plastered. They all were. 

“Your all drunk as fuck,” you said simply, your sentence finishing in a bewilder chuckle. The boys could hold their liquer, hell you have ever seen Gaz and Jonny drunk. 

“Am not,” Jonnys offended tone had you laughing again.

“Of sorry. My mistake, your only eating ice cream burger because you want to,” you jabbed you fingers at the burger in his hands. The ice cream was dripping down his arms and it looked like he had stacked nuggets, chips and a shit ton of cheese into the mix.

“As a matter of fact I did want to,” he said moving his hand about, the contents of the burger slopping onto the ground.

“Awww,” Jonny whined.

“Five second rule bruv,” Gaz said reaching bow to pick up a handful of the mess reconstructing the burger and handing it back to Jonny.

“Thanks Gaz,” Jonny seemed genuinely thankful. You held back a gag as he moved it to his mouth.

“Don't eat that,” you warned. You sure as hell didn't want him getting sick of all the gems that were now thrown into the burger mix. 

“I'll do what I want to do, because I can do whatever I want to do because I can do it,” he slurred.

“Jonny you eat that burger and I'll never speak to you again,” you proposed the ultimatum. He paused, pondering for a moment.

“What if I drink it?” he asked.

“Your gonna drink a burger?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“Aye,” he nodded confidently.

“I bet you a tenner you can't,” Price spoke up. The poor man looked to be dozing in and out of sleep.

“I'll take that bet,” Jonny said.

“Jonny that was on the road,” you pleaded.

“And?” he asked.

“Put it down,” you ordered sternly. With a grumble, he chucked the burger down like a toddler throwing a tantrum. The boys held back their giggles. You heard that right giggle. And it was stared by none other than the man himself. Price. He was giggling. The high-pitched noise sounded off coming from him.

“Ohhhhhhhh mums mad at you,” Gaz joked, nudging his side.

“Sod off,” Jonny grumbled.

“Alright where’s the phone you called me from?” you asked.

“Why?” Gaz questioned.

“Because you called me from a random number, which means you had someone else’s phone. By the state of you lot I wouldn't be surprised if you stole it,” you explained.

“Right, it's over there,” Gaz grabbed his thumb to the phone booth. You first thought they had called you from it, but when you noticed the little pink box, you walked up to it to get a closer look. It was an iPhone. In a pink case, it was cracked to kingdom come and they had somehow lodged it in the credit card reader. You tried tugging it out to no avail. What you did find was Gaz’s phone propped up on the little stand with his contacts open with your name and number on it. Deciding not to question the backwards thinking that led them there you pocketed Gaz’s phone, walking back to the boys.

“Alright, I want the truth ok. What happened?” you asked a little concerned.

“Meet up with some airforce boys. They tried to act all high and mighty,” Price shrugged.

“Said they could drink more than us,” Ghost added.

“We had to prove them wrong,” Jonny explained.

“And we did. But then they brought out, Um what was it called?” Gaz clicked his fingers. 

“Abstanance,” Jonny proclaimed proudly. 

“Absinthe?” you asked in shock.

“Hell yeah, drunk those fuckers under the table.” Ghost nodded.

“Dunk yourselves under the table by the looks of it. Why are you wet? And what the fuck happened to ya shoes?” you asked.

“The ducks were drowning,” Gaz stated simply.

“And there was a bar that takes your shoe when you start a tab. It's to prevent running out without payed your tab,” Jonny added.

“So you all rescued ducks and ran out on a tab?” you asked. The boys pondered for a moment realized how bad it sounded. 

“Yes,” Ghost nodded.

“No,” the rest of them said. 

“And only Ghost rescued the ducks, I fell in, Gaz tried to rescue me but couldn't and Price saved us both,” Jonny explained as if it fixed it all.

“You shouldn't have been hanging around ponds this drunk. It's dangerous,” you murmured.

“For your information, it wasn't a pond,” Gaz stated defensively.

“Oh yeah, what was it?” you cooed back.

“It was the fountain,” he pointed across the way into the park where a fountain was lit up. A knee deep fountain. 

“Right, get in the car. Come on,” the boys groaned.

“We can't,” Gaz said.

“And why not?” you asked.

“Cause,” he trailed off. “Legs an’t working,” he finished. The boys all gave him approving nodds thinking his excuse was to tire brilliance.

“Well, I guess I'll just help you. Come on,” you helped Gaz up first, sliding him into the back of the car. 

“I don't wanna go,” Jonny whined.

“I know big guy,” you cooed. Sliding him in next to Gaz, you shook your head when they started giggling. 

“Your turn,” you gestured Ghost up. 

“Am I under arrest?” he asked.

“What? No,” you shook your head.

“Oh really. Seemed like it.” his hint of sass had you pointing to the car. With a grumble he got up and walked to the car, slipping into the middle seat. You frowned, ducking your head to see the other door open, Jonny now sitting at the far side and Gaz nowhere to be seen. Looking back to the makeshift picnic, you saw him back at the phone booth.

“For fuck’s sake, Stay,” you order the two in the car. Walking up to him, you frowned as he held the phone up to his ear.

“What you doing Gaz?” you asked.

“Ringling Doc. She needs to come pick us up,” he said whole heartedly forgetting that you were there already. With a huffed you took him by the arms, pulling him back. You sighed when you saw Ghost and Jonny sitting back on the curb happily munching away. You sat Gaz in the back of the car, deciding to lock the back door this time. You then filed in Jonny than Ghost. Closing the door behind them, you made your way back to Price.

“Come on sir,” you called softly. He looked up to you and with the biggest beaming brightest smile, and he giggled. God you had never seen anything more pure.

“Your sweet Doc,” he said. 

“Thank You sir. Now can you get in the car please,” you begged. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he nodded, suddenly shooting to his feet. And with that, he toppled back like a domino landing in the bush.

“Christ,” You scrambled to get him out, practically carrying him to the car. Putting him in the driver's seat you buckled him in. When your head rose to make sure the boys were all in you were met by empty back seats. 

“Doc, we can't leave the boys,” Price stated pointing out the window. Where the three men were gathered around a tree relieving themselves. Only Gaz seemed to just be standing there and Jonny appeared to be pissing on Ghost's boot.

“Get in the car!” You called out the window. Begrudgingly, they all piled back in. 

“Hang on, I need a piss,” Price spoke up just as they all buckled in. With a tired sigh you patiently waited. Then when he returned you drove off. 

“Wait, a minute, this ain't the way home,” Gaz suddenly pointed out.

“Yes I know. I think I know the bar you're talking about. We're going to go back there and pay your tab and get your shoes back. The higher ups would have a field day if you guys got in trouble,” you explained. Pulling up to the bar, you parked the car.

“Wait this is a police station,” Jonny pointed out. Yes, on the other side of the street, there was a police station. 

“We should go fight that police officer,” Ghost suggested.

“What? What police officer?” you asked.

“The one we stole this from,” Gaz said, pulling a taser gun that had been tucked in the back of his pants.

“You stole from a police officer!” you exclaimed.

“First of all he was an absolute piss head. A real fucker,” Price spoke up in a logical tone.

“Yeah, he tried to arrest Gaz,” Ghost added.

“Prick,” Gaz grumbled.

“Let's do this Lads,” Price grinned at the rest of them. Like a toddler hyped up on sugar.

“Actually, I think that might be a bad idea,” Gaz spoke up.

“Gaz,” Price called and Gaz hummed in response.

“I got two of these and you got two of those. And we got whatever da fuck Ghost is, lets go,” he held up two fists before stepping out of the car.

“No NO nonononono,” you reached over trying to grab at Price, but he was already gone.

“I swear to god if any of you move I'll give you tetanus shots in the morning,” you threw the threat back at the remaining men in the car. The tetanus shot was one of the worst shots you could get, and they all had bad memories of it. So at the threat, they quickly did their seat belts back up. 

“Christ,” you hissed, quickly hopping out of the car when you saw Price walk up to an officer hanging around outside.

While you were trying to deescalate the situation and explain to the cop why there was a drunk man trying to pick a fight, the boys were watching from the car. 

“She's scary,” Gaz whispered.

“What a fucking woman,” Ghost grumbled.

“I think I'm gonna ask her out,” Jonny declared. Ghost head snapped around faster than light.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Jonny rumbled back.

“I bagsed her. You can't do shit,” Ghost said.

“Fucking when?” Jonny asked.

“Just then,” Ghost stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You can't bags a woman,” Gaz interjected.

“I know, women are strong beautiful beings to be respected and we are to respect their choices,” Ghost said, all the boys agreeing.

“But I still bags her,” he added at the end. 

“Fuck you Brit. If you like her, do something bout it!” Jonny snapped his blink slightly delayed. 

“Suck a cock scotsman,” Ghost snapped back.

“Do-Do you think you can beat me in a physical altercation of feisty cuffs?” Jonny fumbled with his words, raising his fists slightly. His aim was to star threateningly at his face but he missed the mark slightly staring at his knee. “I will beat you in a way you have NEver Beeenn beaten before,” Ghost stared at Jonny’s unfocused gaze. Before casually reaching over and giving him a gentle backhanded tap on his face. 

“OHHHHHH,” Gaz called from his middle seat.

“DAMMIT!” Jonny explained as if he had just received a full on punch but didn't move in the slightest.

“You just got hit in the face lad,” Gaz giggle.

“Hit me again!” Jonny dared. So Ghost did, repeating the same action. Only it didn't seem to compute in Jonny mind the second time. “I dare you, you put your hands on me one more time, Cause I swear, it will be an, I will-” Ghost reached over his wrist wrapping around the back of Jonny neck.

“Come closer so I can put you in a choke hold,” Ghost asked politely.

“No!” Jonny declared going to hit back only for his hand to completely miss and fall to the side harmlessly. The two fumbled in the back of the car not really accomplishing anything.

“Guys, look he's gettin the cop!” Gaz announced. They all looked out the car window to see the cop walk off.

You had tried and failed to calm them down. Price had demanded to see the cop that tried to arrest Gaz. The boys all piled out of the car, some more graceful than others, before rushing up to you.

“Oh god no, get back in the car please!” you begged.

“Gotta get loose,” Jonny stated, starting to do jumping jacks.

“Guys Doc is right. We should go,” Gaz stated.

“Pussy,” that one word from Ghost was all it took for Gaz to shrug his jacket off and start stretching.

“You guys are really gonna fight a cop!?” you asked, bewildered by it all. 

“Yes we are!” Jonny yelled confidently.

“No you're not!” You yelled. You couldn't believe it. It was like all common sense had been turned off in their heads.

“Ohhh Jonny’s in trouble,” Gaz grinned.

“Fuck you,” Jonny called reaching out to try and give Gaz a slight tap on the nuts.

“Dont touch my balls!” Gaz cried. 

“Yeah Jonny,” Ghost chuckled, amused by it all only for Jonny to try and hit his. Bewildered, you were utterly bewildered as you saw the group of highly trained soldiers all become involved in what you assumed was a game of hit the dick. They were all relatively bent over trying to protect their jewels while simultaneously trying to hit each other. Even price had been pulled into it.

“Guys come on,” you begged. 

“He touched my penis!” Jonny cried in a high-pitched voice.

“Don't touch my penis!” Gaz screamed right back. 

“Can I help you boys?” A cop walked out of the station.

“Officer. Hi. I am so sorry about them there just a little drunk, I'll get them home safely,” you quickly interjected yourself between them.

“It's the cop!” Jonny declared pointing at him. The cop was beyond confused. Because for one, he had never seen the boys before in his life. 

The truth of the story was that it was a comply different cop that had tried to arrest Gaz. They looked similar, and that was about it. And the only reason why he was trying to arrest Gaz was because he had stolen his taser gun.

But the boys could hardly see straight, so when they heard the cop was there, they trusted his words comply. 

“Come on, let's go!” Jonny declared as they all crowded around the poor man. Well, you tried to keep them back trying to speak over their taunts for a fight. The cop spoke into his radio, requesting backup.

“Please, this is all a big misunderstanding. They're actually really nice blokes,” your words fell on deaf ears.

“Pig!” Ghost said.

“Oh look, the little boy needs back up. We can take em,” Gaz said.

“If Laswell finds out about this, she’ll have your heads!” Your yell instantly had the boys silent.

“FUCKEN RUN!” Price ordered the fear filling them. Instantly they took off down the street.

“Serpentine!” Gaz yelled had them all running in a squiggly line. Which had Jonny and Gaz running into each other. Ghost even knocked his head on a low post not even flinching as he kept on running. That left you standing there out the front of the police station with a group of police officers. And you all watched as the boys disappeared down the street. 

“So um that,” you trailed off, pointing to them. “I uh,”

“I have no explanation for that,” you whispered in defeat. 

When you found Gaz he was still running down the street.

“GAZ GET IN THE CAR!” you yelled out the window.

“FUCK THE POLICE! FUCK POLICE WOMEN!” he yelled.

“WHAT!?” you yelled. He instantly stopped running up to the car window.

“I have nothing against women, officers. I understand how my words were terrible. I just heard you were a woman and everyone calls you all policemen so I wanted to be inclusive but I realize I was just singling you out,” he explained drunkenly.

“Gaz I'm not a police woman. Get in the fucken car,” you ordered.

“You can't fool me. FUCK POLICE WOMEN!” he yelled, taking off sprinting again. 

“Fuck this,” you grunted slamming on the breaks and jumping out he car. Gaz wasn't really sure what happened but one moment he was running down the street and the next he was in the back of the car the seat belt cut and tied around his hands and feet.

The others were a bit harder to find. Price was up a fucking willow tree. Getting him out of the tree was a fucking mission. You ended up just throwing random stuff at him until he eventually fell out. You used branches to tie him up and put him in the car as well. Finding Soap was a lucky find. You saw him stumbling down the street and when you called out to him he rushed into a club. As you walked in you realized quickly that you wouldn't have much luck finding him. It was packed to the brim and you couldn't see over anyone's heads. So you make your way up to the DJ booth.

“Hi, I'm trying to find a drunk scotsman. He's a vet. Do you mind?” you asked, gesturing to the microphone.

“Anything for our boys,” he said, handing it over.

“If you're a Scot and wearing a kilt, come up on stage for your prize!” Everyone cheered as you tucked yourself behind the DJ stand. Jonny walked up on stage basking in the cheers, raising his hands high in the air. 

And then you crash tackled him to the floor, tying him up with some power cords.

“Fucks sake Jonny,” you grunted after you had lugged his body out of the club and into the car. 

“Wow, they caught you before me, Captain. I'm surprised,” Jonny grinned smugly. You spent the next hour searching for Simon. You were about to give up when you decided to ring his phone. If Gaz’s still worked there was a chance his did too. Hearing the ringing you frowned. It wasn't just coming from your phone. Looking back to the boys, you could hear the muffled sound.

“Hello?” Ghost asked through the phone. His actual voice sounded once again from the back. Getting out of the car, you rounded it before pulling the boot open. There Ghost lay, his large body comedically tucked into the back, the Traffic cone still in his arms.

“How long have you been in there?” you asked.

“Since you caught Gaz,” he stated simply. With a deep sigh you gestured him out of the back. You knew you didn't need to tie him up and helped him to the front seat. Locking the doors, you started to drive everyone back to base.

“Boys, we've been kidnapped,” Price stated slowly. 

“Like hell we have,” Jonny whispered back.

“What are you boys whispering about back there?” You asked. With your eyes on the busy road, you failed to see them untie themselves and jimmy the lock.

“RONDEVU AT THE PUB BOYS!” Price ordered. Instantly, they all threw themselves out of the car and legged it in opposite directions. You had slammed on the brakes once they had done it. You watched them run, letting your tired head fall to the steering wheel.

“Give me strength,” you pleaded. This time you weren't so lucky in finding them. 

What happened was your phone rang again. From a new number.

“Hello?” you already knew who it was.

“Hey doc. Can you come pick us up? We lost the car,” Gaz's voice wafted through.

“Sure where are you? You asked.

“The police station,” he whispered bashfully.

So there you were back at the police station. You smiled bashfully at the officers the boys had tried to fight. Luckily for them you were a sweet talker. And the fact that they were military helped as well. They would have been charged with theft of a police officer and walking out on a tab. But you returned the taser gun, which hadn't been discharged. And you paid the tab with a generous tip getting their boots back in the process. The boys embarrassingly walked out of the station looking like puppies that had just been kicked. 

“Are you mad at us?” Jonny asked.

“Not mad, Just disappointed,” you shook your head. For the four drunk men the sentence was devastating, making them drop their head in guilt. A tiny smile pulled at your lips.

“Come on, let's get you home,” you ruffled Jonny's hair gently pulling them all out of the police station.

“Can we get McDonalds on the way home?” Gaz asked.

“I want an ice cream,” Price spoke up.

“Sure, why not?”

This time, the drive was much more peaceful. When you got back, you made sure they were all changed, well hydrated and tucked into bed. Which was incredibly hard because they had hit the pass out drunk stage. Ghost was the hardest. You managed to get him on the bed and his shirt and jacket off relatively easily. You paused momentarily as you saw his bare upper body. God damn the greek sculptures could take pointers from him. Your gaze softened as you saw all the scars and bullet holes that lined the ripples of his muscle. He's been through a lot. You felt slightly perverted as you undid his pants. Only they were wet and long, so you stood there yanking at them pulling them off inch by inch. Now you were using your whole body to get those bad boys off, so it didn't surprise you when you flew halfway across the room when you finally got them off. Breathing heavily, you gently lifted his legs back onto the bed. Grabbing the blanket, you tucked it up to his chin, your hand brushing against the wet mask. While the room was heated, it was still cold. Plus, you couldn't tell if it was water or blood from the hit that was on the top. 

“Alright Simon, I'm gonna take off your mask. But I'm gonna close my eyes so don't worry. I just don't want you waterboarding yourself in your sleep,” you whispered. He gave no response. With a deep breath, you reached up and closed your eyes. Your hands gathered the material at the bottom of the fabric and started rolling it up. In your focus you hadn't noticed Simon's eyes snap open at the movement. His hand had almost snapped around your wrist, only stopping when he saw your eyes closed. Slowly, he let his hand fall as you pulled the mask fully off. 

“Alright, now let's see if you did any damage to that head of yours?” you asked. Your hands brushed away his hair from his face, humming at the loose curls. His heart stirred as he stared at you, loving the blissful feeling your hands gave him as they moved across his face. When you were happy that it was only a lump he had sustained a small giggle left on your lips.

“That's gonna be a shiner mate,” you whispered.

He watched as your smile dropped slightly when her thumb brushed over a scar. You got a weird sense of DeJa'Vu as you thumb gently traced the scar. So many scars. Life certainly hadn't been kind to him.

"What am I gonna do with you huh?" you asked softly. Brushing his hair back once again, you stood.

“Night Simon,” you whispered before blindly making your way out the room. Simon watched the door close before looking up at the ceiling. His hand clasped over his rapidly beating heart as he came to the sudden realization. 

He was absolutely smitten for the Doc.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

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

=COD Master List Here=

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[angelkiyo]

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who you met at a house party that your mutual friend oikawa threw. your friends got the flier on instagram and decided to bring you in attempts to bring you out of your shell—where you were brought in his sights while getting something to drink. you in your sparkly pink velour halter top and skin tight jean mini skirt drove him crazy, driving the need to talk to you.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who comes up and talks to you once your friend gets caught up in the party, awkwardly starting the conversation by asking what you’re drinking. catching wind on how you want to get fresh air from the heavy presence of weed, alcohol, and sweat, offers to drive you around the neighborhood. he simply does so, turning the windows down, stopping at a grocery store’s parking lot and offers you some weed to which you surely agree to. “the night’s been rough” — in which conversation and sativa rush ends in a rough make-out session before he drops you home and leads both of you wanting more after.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who slowly but surely, became the only guy you really talked to after the party you attended, with every other guy attempting to ask you out scared off by him. maybe it was his rough and intimidating exterior— with his years of self-discipline showcased by his biceps and the tattoos tattooed on his sun-kissed skin, or maybe it’s his demeanor; talking eloquently and clearly adding on to his intimidating appearance. either way, both reasons are some of your favorite things about him (and he knows it and loves that).

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who brags about you, his smart and pretty little girlfriend. he loves to show you off at parties, especially when you showcase your necklace with his name on it or your nails with his initials. once you’ve reached a year with him, he definitely has your lipstick mark tatted on his neck. if he isn’t promoting his business on social media, he posts those subtle mirror selfies with you, the flash covering your face as he wraps his arms around your waist, fingers slightly toying with the waistband of your skirt.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who spoils you fucking rotten. you want those “preppy little” van cleef bracelets? he’ll buy it and a matching necklace. you get money to do your nails every week and have his card connected to whatever app you want to buy something from. he loves to spoil you when it comes to shopping — addicted to your smile and the way you look when you do a little fashion show of your newly bought clothes ranging from elegant vera wang slip dresses to bedazzled and lacy lingerie sets bought exclusively for him.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who always makes sure you come first, whether it be priorities or bedroom matters, you are on the top of his list, putting your own pleasures and preferences on number one. he puts his clients on hold just to make sure he gives you what you need.

͙͘͡★ plug! iwaizumi, who eats you out like you’re his last meal but grabs on your thighs gently while doing so. he might have an intimidating and scary presence however, he knows how to treat and pleasure a woman. the way he knows where to hit your pleasure spots in every position he tries with you as long as you’re comfortable.

hehehe hope you all had a nice holiday!!

[tempobaekh]

Short N’ Sweet

pairings: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned

a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me

Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.

Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.

Or maybe more like knock his pants off.

Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.

You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he’d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.

With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him

He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.

“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”

“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.

Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.

When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”

Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.

You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.

“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.

Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.

"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”

"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”

You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”

His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”

“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”

“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”

You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."

He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here�� You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”

That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."

When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.

Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.

As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.

The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.

Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"

"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.

The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”

You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.

"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."

His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”

"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.

And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[inkdrinkerworld]

dick literally spends every single penny on you it's CONCERNING, like every date he's dropping 2k in dinner, and you're like huh??? when he gets you gifts for no reason, would be VERY suspicious to me, cus i would instantly think that he's done something wrong and be all dramatic like "did someone die?? did you cheat on me?" and he literally just saw your favourite chocolate and flowers at the store and wanted to get you them..

“Gorgeous, where are you?” You’re in the bedroom, hair dripping as you step out of the shower- you shout back such to your boyfriend.

“I got you something nice.” Dick sing songs as he watches you reach for your blow dryer.

“Dick,” you say as you put it down and stare at him. Your boyfriend has a little problem- he has a shopping addiction but never for things for himself.

Sure he buys himself nice things but it seems like his brain derives the most pleasure and dopamine from getting things for you.

The first time he’d come home with something for you, you panicked. You remember asking him if someone died and he’d laughed so hard he’d started crying.

“No baby, that’s depressing by the way. I got you this just because.” He’d said as he pushed a box in your hands and you opened it to find a pretty bracelet with little bells on it.

Now, almost weekly- it would be daily if Dick had his way- he brings something for you.

“Before you get worried. No one died, I didn’t break your favourite mug or eat your chocolates this time.”

You gasp, “This time?”

Dick’s eyes widen, “Let’s not focus on that, here you go, baby.”

The bag crinkles in your hand as you take it, your eyes on Dick the entire time. “It’s not a bomb, open it.”

When you do you smile. Sitting in the bag is a pair of pyjamas that you’d been eyeing for a little bit- a blue and white striped set.

“Dick that’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugs, all smiles. “That’s why they call me honey, honey.”

You blow a raspberry at the joke. “Grayson,” you mumble as you pull out the pyjamas and find two bars of your favourite chocolates and a little box. “I should’ve known it wasn’t just one thing.” He sits on the bed, leaning back on his palm.

He nods, “You really should, I just like getting you things, gorgeous.”

When you open the box you find silver, wing shaped, bedazzled hair clips.

“I don’t know where you get half these things from.” Dick smiles as you walk over to him. The tips of your hair drip onto his shoulder as you kiss him.

“Oh you know, people just like doing things for about five hundred bucks a piece.”

You pull away from him and frown. “You didn’t spend one thousand dollars on hair clips Dick.”

His cheeks go a little pink, “What? No. I said about, gorgeous.” He kisses you again and then pulls away.

“We’ve got a brunch reservation for tomorrow too, at that place you liked last time. Let me do your hair and you can put on your new pyjamas yeah?” He strokes the apples of your cheeks and under your jaw to the point where you’re a little hypnotized.

“Put the honey hair oil in before your flat iron it okay?” Dick nods.

“I know how to do it right, sweetheart. I am a professional.”

“Professional what, Grayson? Money spender?”

He tuts, a smile playing on his lips. “Ha ha, no I’m a professional at taking care of you. Now sit your cute butt down so I can start.”

[vampcubus]

Not me thinking about Muzan and the Upper Moons being put in collars and leashes, nope. Nooooo, siree, nope. Definitely not. I'm a very bad liar-

LATE ANSWER BUT I AM FINALLY READY TO DIVE INTO THIS. just short headcanons for now cus i'm not tryna get too carried away jbdajhsd.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : muzan, akaza, kokushibo, douma, and gyokko.

𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐉𝐈

— Muzan thinks the collar is degrading so naturally, he is not too thrilled or receptive to your begging at first. But he's a slave to his own curiosity, so after giving it some thought, he'll let you collar him.

— It is as immensely humiliating as he suspected, hearing the dangly loop where the lead would attach to jingle as he moved. You don't use a leash yet, wanting him to get comfortable with his collar first. He doesn't understand the appeal until you start tugging him around by it, hooking your finger through it to drag him where you want him, whether that be between your legs or otherwise, he's suddenly very pliant.

— You finally take that leap and attach a lead to his sleek black collar, bedazzled with red crystals to match his eyes- the same eyes that bore into you so intensely as you wrap the lead around your wrist several times, drawing him close.

"Such a pretty pet you make," you purr, and something in him purrs back, dark lashes fluttering.

— It's definitely a bedroom-only thing for him though. He has a reputation to uphold afterall. That also means he's getting hard the moment you go to fasten it around his neck ❤︎

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐀

— Akaza takes to his collar so easily, smitten with how it feels around his pretty neck the moment you clip it on. He finds it comforting and likes to wear it as often as possible, as a reminder that he is irrevocably yours even when you're apart.

— He'd probably get so attached to it that he'd get anxious if you tried to remove it, instantly rushing to apologize, thinking he's done something wrong and you're punishing him. He gets a little sick to his stomach at the thought of being a bad pet, or bad in general.

— And he'd love to be leashed! it puts less pressure on him not to suddenly jerk away or disobey you on accident, because the lead is there to stop him from going too far.

— Just imagine being on your back with him rutting into you desperately, and then using the leash to pull him down to your lips, smothering his moans against your lips. Purrr.

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐀

—Douma will try just about anything, and won't bat an eye if you confess you want to put a collar on him. He is a bit picky though, so make sure it's a nice one, perhaps with pretty dangly things or gems to compliment his eyes.

— I have this vivid image in my mind of him lifting his hair out of the way as you attach the collar around his neck, those rainbow-colored eyes fixated on your facial expressions, searching for your approval. And when he finds it, he's already purring. He'll gladly show it off too, posing and admiring himself in the mirror.

— He likes it even more when you tug him around by it, whether that be by a lead or just hooking your finger through it and yanking him forward. He's a brat sometimes so at times you'll have to be rough with him, and he likes it, so don't worry about hurting him (that turns him on anyway ❤︎)

𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐎

— NOW HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT PLS!! Kokushibo likes to be collared but won't admit it. In fact, he'll pretend he's completely indifferent to it. Beneath the surface though, it feels more right than he ever imagined, to be marked as yours in such a way.

— He's another one I could see having a hard time parting with his collar, which is the biggest clue you'll get from him that he likes it. Just imagining reaching for the clasp when he's being particularly stubborn and his hand slaps over it, all six pairs of eyes wide with panic.

"Don't take it off, please..." he'd mumble, the slightest of blushes gracing his usually stoic face.

— As for leashes... he might be a little offended that you think he'd need one, he has impeccible control of his body and only moves it when you say afterall.

— He will, however, entertain it. Though you hardly need to yank him around at all, it's still very hot to see it moving along with him, especially if you get a chain, cus you hear it jingle with every thrust.

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎

— Gyokko will let you put a collar on him, but he's very picky about the appearance of it. Seriously you'll have to take him with you when you get one so he can pick one out, or let him ramble on about what he wants and get it custom made.

— I think he'd like to have multiple ones, so he can switch them out as he pleases. As for fucking him with it on, he's more easily-flustered than usual, getting red in the face when you boss him around and tug on it.

— Insists on getting matching leashes for each of his collars because he's painfully particular about the small details, but at least he's letting you leash him in the first place right?

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

ZZZ Headcanons

Help this game has taken over my free time I love these characters sm <3 Billy Soukaku and Ellen my beloved

Nicole: has a not so secret hobby of bedazzling anything and everything. It’s a real problem in the Cunning Hares apartment, nothing is safe from pink rhinestones and stickers

Anby: cracked at rhythm games to an alarming degree. Can do a 2 person extremely hard DDR song all by herself

Billy: I don’t know how they did it but they programmed an android with autism. Has his own version of a skincare routine which is basically just maintenance on all of his tiny mechanical parts. Can also gain power multiple ways, including solar power. The apartment complex where the Cunning Hares live had a blackout once and everyone used Billy as a personal charging port. Nicole promised to pay him in Starlight Knight merch.

Nekomata: cuts her own hair and offers to do it for other people. DO NOT trust her when she says she’s good at it

Grace: did gymnastics as a kid which is why she’s able to pull off a ton of backflips and flexible maneuvers in battle

Anton: uses actual cement to keep his hair spikes in shape. Koleda caught him in the act once and instead of chewing him out, she decided to apply some to her own hair and now they’re cement combover gang

Ben: is completely vegan and loves chilling at hot springs a lot. Still sleeps with stuffed animals btw

Koleda: I’m making it canon right now Koleda is trans and you can’t do shit about it. Also has welding as a hobby and made most of her accessories from scratch

Corin: when not in Victoria Housekeeping Co uniform, is a Jfashion junkie. I’m talking super dedicated Lolita fits, menhera inspired clothing, the whole shebang. She ofc designs a lot of her own stuff like her bear backpack and is also responsible for a lot of the accessories Victoria Housekeeping Co wears (Rina’s bows, Ellen’s shark jaw head and neckpieces, Lycaon’s eyepatch and tail straps). She also has a massive crush on Ellen and is too scared to admit it

Rina: has a fur allergy and can’t keep animals around. Which also means she’s allergic to Lycaon. She has to take so much Zyrtec before clocking in but has such a good poker face that Lycaon has no idea. Ellen knows tho

Lycaon: specifically wears the heeled boots and has his odd posture because he’s self conscious about his digitigrade legs, he thinks they’re unsightly for a butler of his standing to have. He also tries to encourage Ellen to wear a long maid dress like Rina does to hide her tail.

Ellen: coincidentally falls into a lot of shark stereotypes. She loves seafood, has to constantly be fidgeting or she feels like she’ll go mad, and the kicker, she gets frenzied around blood, or if the thing she’s fighting puts up a struggle. Corin accidentally cut her hand while repairing her saw blade once and both Lycaon and Rina could barely hold Ellen back once Corin began bleeding. Ellen feels awful for scaring the already timid girl. Corin secretly thought it was hot and would die on the spot if anyone knew that

Soukaku: despite being a huge foodie this girl cannot cook for shit. Is also physically cold to the touch and during the summer her coworkers will ask her to hold their drinks because they’ll stay cold. Soukaku always secretly sneaks sips every time they do this to her.

Miyabi: has the worst sleep schedule known to man. Sometimes you’ll find her awake at 3AM and conked out by 4PM, other times she goes to bed at 8PM and wakes up at 4AM. It’s inconsistent and irregular and a gamble trying to contact her outside of work because she might not even be awake

Harumasa: GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY. Also pretty cracked at chess and other strategy games. Is also a major old fashioned guy and doesn’t own a lot of modern technology. He’s not into retro or old stuff, he just doesn’t like new stuff

Yanagi: her glasses are fake. When she was younger she needed them, but her vision had naturally gotten better over the years, so she now wears contacts, but for some reason still insists on wearing her glasses. Loses them constantly during battle.

Lucy: even though she was forced to play piano as a kid, she really wanted to be a sporty girl and play stuff like soccer and baseball. Now she has the freedom to take part in the sports she likes and watch them surrounded by the people she likes

Piper: insanely picky eater to the point it drives Lucy up a wall. Is also picky about a lot of other things, like how different fabrics feel, different comfort levels of chairs and beds, girl is a complainer and will always find something to complain about

Lighter: has a side gig as a tattoo artist, has really stable hands too

Soldier 11: has 5 younger brothers, a younger sister, and 2 older siblings who she doesn’t see super often. Has divorced parents who also liked to adopt, which is why she has such a huge family. Her younger brothers love it when she comes home and plays secret agent military with them

Seth: can’t drive. That’s it send tweet.

Qingyi: is outwardly dismissive of meditation tricks and hacks and tips but utilizes that shit in private ALL the time.

Zhu Yuan: shares the vegetables she grows in her garden with all her neighbors. Is also a REALLY good cook to the point people have encouraged her to potentially consider a different career path

Jane Doe: the rat girl has pet rats go figure. But in all seriousness she’d die for her little guys. She has a white one named Cocaine and a brown one named Tobacco and a gray one named Crystal Meth. She thinks the names are hilarious and every time she introduces the rats to other people their facial expressions are priceless

[shebreathedherlast]

Daughter of the Sea

Part II

Masterlist

Rhinestones

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Summary: The aftermath of beating Luke comes with consequences.

Work Count: 1.8k

TW: Violence, blood, weapons, mean Luke, broken bones

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

“WHO IN OLYMPUS PUT PINK RHINESTONES ON MY DAGGERS?” You yell in anger.

After your victory in Capture the Flag, everyone in camp had a newfound sense of respect for you and your abilities. And to your delight, they contented your skill with that of the infamous Luke Castellan. Unsurprisingly, the one and only Golden Boy wasn’t too happy about this and had been on a mission to make your life a living hell since that day.

But this was too far.

The knives, your prized possessions were covered in pastel pink shimmery rhinestones, and it was most likely Luke's fault.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

You marched up to Chris taking a fistful of this orange camp shirt, “Where. is. Castellan.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

You felt Chris’ body tense, he was all too familiar with your aggressive tendencies.

“I-…I don’t know.” He replied eyes fleeting away from your gaze.

You didn’t buy his answer for a minute.

Shoving him a little more this time, you spoke, “Don’t lie to me Chris. I know you know where he is.”

He was trembling my now, that much was evident. You supposed that after throwing a knife near his head in Capture the Flag, Chris was most likely terrified of you.

You don’t know what you would’ve done to Chris if he didn’t tell you. Probably nothing pretty. So for the fearful boy in your grasp, it was lucky that you caught a glimpse of dark curls rounding the corner.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

“Castellan!” You yelled from across the dining area. Luke’s eyes found yours and based on the smirk adorning his features you confirmed the culprit.

Now it was time to apprehend him.

You took off sprinting in his direction, rhinestone knife raised in your right hand.

“You’re gonna suffer for this!” You scream, chest heaving from running.

You saw alarm pass over Luke’s eyes. Good. He should be afraid.

As you began to close in on him, he took off running in the opposite direction. What a cowered. You refused to back down, forcing your legs forward as you tried to regulate your breathing.

By now you had arrived at the woods, but it appeared that Luke had no intention of stopping anytime soon. So you chased after him.

The trees made it difficult to keep up with the Hermes boy, but you pushed on despite this. After running for what felt like hours you finally spotted Luke sitting on a large rock, one leg bent as he rested his elbow on his knee.

“You made it, Chaos. Thought I might have lost you back there.” He said.

You rolled your eyes, desiring nothing more than to rip his head from his body.

“You are so dead, Castellan.” You seethed.

He nodded, patronizing you as a smug expression clung to his features. “I see you found my present.”

“Present?” You spat, “You vandalized my daggers!”

Luke leaned back from his perched position. He was calm and collected and this made you all the more frustrated.

“Did I? Or did I just bedazzle them for you?”

You chuckled angrily, “Bedazzle? Castellan you covered my knives in pink rhinestones and the only excesses you have for you actions is that you “bedazzled” them.” You look to the sky as you throw up your hands. “Unbelievable.”

“Oh come on, Chaos, loosen up. You must have known that I had a motive.” He spoke, eyes darkening ever so slightly.

“I don’t know why I’m even hearing you out right now when I should be inflicting you with a painful death.”

Luke chuckled, clearly humoured, “Like you could, even if you tried.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Castellan. You do remember what happened last time, don’t you?” You spoke, every word coated in venom, “Or do I need to jog your memory?”

Luke raised his hands in front of him with faux surrender.

You scoffed.

“Now is there a reason you brought me here or should I resume what I had planned for you?” You said.

Luke quirked a brow, “I didn’t force you to follow me, Chaos. That’s on you.”

You didn’t reply. Opting to glare at him with hatred.

Luke appeared amused at your anger. He pushed his body off the rock and stalked up to you. His dark eyes captured your gaze as he stood before you. The Hermes boy towered over you, and you had to tilt your head up to see his face.

You didn’t realize how hard you were clenching your fists until you felt the familiar trickle of crimson blood staining your palms. Four crescent wounds adored your palms on each hand.

Luke noticed the small amount of blood seeping from your clenched fists. “You must really hate me.” He said, a smirk remaining on his face, “The feeling is mutual.”

You turn from him to take a deep breath, “I didn’t come here to discuss the obvious, Castellan.” You state. “In fact, I didn’t come here to talk at all.”

That moment you broke. Your walls of restraint crumbled, unleashing all your anger.

You punched Luke. You punched him hard, and you liked it. You were a volcano, rage erupting and flames lapping up anything in its path.

Luke stumbled back at the impact. He recovered quickly, standing tall as he spat blood from his mouth onto the ground. He loved this. Luke loved your rage, and he had no clue why. There was just something about the way your eyes darkened and the way you carried yourself that had Luke drinking in your anger. So instead of recoiling from your touch, he edged you on even more. “Come on, Chaos. That’s all you got? You're Pathetic.”

He obtained the reaction he was looking for. You lunged at him, and the force of your clenched fist came with you. You swung at his face again, but this time he caught your hand.

“Nuh uh, Chaos. Don’t ruin this pretty little face of mine, how else am I supposed to look at you?”

A growl of frustration rose from the back of your throat. Was this idiot seriously flirting with you right now? It seemed like with every passing second you had a stronger desire to permanently remove that perfect smirk adorning his lips. Hands finding his chest you pushed him down with all your power, tackling him to the ground.

Luke groaned as you set yourself over him, mimicking the same position from Capture the Flag. You reached for his arms to restrain him, but he constantly evaded your reach. You continued to go for his arms the height of his limbs forcing you to surge forward. When you finally reached his arms you relaxed, shifting back. Why wasn’t he fighting back?

Luke’s eyes captured yours as something new passed through them.

“If you wanted me on top of you, you should’ve just asked.” You prodded, but he seemed to snap at your words.

Luke pushed you down, snagging his limbs out of your grasp. He gripped your wrist and pulled you to the side, but it was to no avail. Your thighs were gripping his body, fighting to remain. You climbed over his chest, pushing your elbow down to his throat.

“Have I joged your memory yet, Castellan?”

He only groans in response as you move back.

Luke’s eyes are screwed shut, an unreadable expression falling over his face. “Stop moving.” He spoke breathlessly.

Your eyes widen

“What?”

He inhales sharply, “You heard me, Chaos. Stop moving.”

You freeze in place as Luke shoves you off of himself.

Your shock only increases as he stands, pulling you into his grip.

His eyes sweep over you, hair in disarray, shirt stained with dirt from the ground.

“Finally,” He breathes, “You listened.”

His words snap you out of your shock, as you go in for another blow. Luke anticipated this though. He caught your fist and twisted your arm around your back. A whine escaped your lips at the sudden pain.

“You’re always so dam (pun intended) stubborn. Always so hot-headed, it’s incredibly frustrating.” He spoke, pulling on your arm with more force.

“Luke,” You cry out. Silently begging for him to release you, even though you both knew you’d never voice your true meaning. Begging him to let you go would be admitting defeat, and you would never allow that.

“You want me to let go huh? Well, we both know the last time we fought you dislocated my shoulder. I couldn’t use it for days, probably drank more ambrosia than is even possible.”

Your body desperately fights against his, in an aim to free your arm. You try to escape his grasp, but his arms are wrapped securely around you. You involuntarily cry out again as Luke tugs your arm harder.

“Luke,” You whine more desperately this time.

He only allowed another one of his signature smirks to dress his face.

“Stop fighting me Chaos. I am the only victor of this camp. There’s no room for the both of us.” He said, voice hard and cold.

Luke shoved you to the ground pushing you down, but you do your best to resist, fighting against his grip.

“Do you want me to break this little arm of yours?” He asks, anger coating his tone.

You shake your head. The pain made your eyes water, as you spent all your energy holding them in. You didn’t understand why people liked the boy in front of you. He was a monster. Sure he was nice to the newbies, and he adored Annabeth, but to you, he was worse than the Typhon, who rendered all the gods almost entirely powerless. Maybe Luke had a nice side, but you were much more accustomed with the one before you.

“You’re quiet now, aren’t you? Never thought I’d see the day when Chaos, herself has nothing to say.”

You have always hated Luke Castellan. But in this moment you despise him with your entire being. He was humiliating you. He was taking away your glory. Piece by piece Luke was tearing it from you, and you were doing all you could to hold on to it.

During your fight with Luke, you had approached a riverbank. Your father could help you thought. Dad, I need you. You called for your father god of the seas, yet as Luke forced you to the ground you knew that no help would come from Poseidon. Either he didn’t hear or he didn’t care, either way, you are solely left to defend yourself. And as glory fades, embedding itself into Luke, you are desperate to take action.

As Luke pushed your body down harder you reasoned that you needed to act immediately. So without another thought you rolled to your side, slamming your body weight down on your arm in Luke’s hold. An intense crack was heard and instantly Luke tore his hands from you. You screamed in anguish as you fought the water forming in your eyes.

A long pause of silence filled the air between you and the Hermes boy.

“Chaos…” He spoke quietly. Something that almost sounded like worry filled his voice.

You didn’t care what Luke had to say. All that you could think of was peeling every ounce of his glory and bestowing it upon yourself. You wanted respect. You demanded it. You took a deep breath, standing upright. A dark chuckle fell from your lips, “You were right about one thing, Castellan. There’s no room for the both of us.”

Luke doesn’t make an effort to speak. He just stood there in shock. You were glad, though as you studied him, it appeared that hundreds of emotions passed his eyes, anger, confusion, hatred, but most of all concern.

You took another deep breath to hold in your suffering, but the sheer intensity of the pain was too much. As you opened your mouth, desperate for air to fill your lungs, you were met with nothing. You couldn’t feel anything besides the riveting pain travelling down your entire body. Your mind became fuzzy and your body was dizzy. Before you could even react, you were falling. Down, down, down. Your body went numb, and you were sure that you would’ve hit the ground with a concussion, if Luke hadn’t lunged forward, slipping his arms around you, and catching your fall.

----

A/n I had this all ready to publish, and then half of it like deleted itself...so if the second half of this part sucks, its cause I had to rewrite it in my anger.

Tag list: @motorsp0rt @astronomical-admonition @edenssworld @sillychloe @viennasaysstuff @esposadomd @bogbutteronmycroissant

[vandme12]

our serials (kc) with a reader with glasses? :3

Reader who is always forgetting to wear their glasses, making CONSTANT typos in the server, or the characters catching them squinting. Just curious to how that would go ^~^'

V

At first, he assumes your typos are some kind of code. He spends an embarrassing amount of time trying to decipher the nonsense until you admit you just... forgot your glasses.

“You should be more careful. Words matter.” He says this like you’re committing war crimes every time you accidentally call him “Vurghilante.”

Eventually, he starts proofreading your messages. If you send something particularly chaotic, expect him to correct it with the same energy as a disappointed English teacher.

He absolutely notices when you’re squinting at something. If you resist putting your glasses on, he will silently place them on your face like you’re a stubborn child. No words. Just the weight of his judgment.

The one time you squint at him, he deadpans, “I’m not blurry.” But there’s a hint of amusement when you still refuse to wear your glasses.

Once, you mistyped his name so badly it resembled a rare plant species. He spent the next 24 hours sending you obscure botany facts as punishment.

Misaki

Oh, he thinks it’s hilarious. Your typos? Screenshot folder. Your squinting? Material for endless teasing. They calls you “Mole-ey” and won’t stop.

If you try to defend yourself, they just leans in uncomfortably close to your face like, “You sure you can see me, sweetheart? Or am I just a mysterious blur?”

Constantly quizzes you on random distant objects. "What does that sign say? No, no, don't squint. Use your powers."

Steals your glasses when she’s bored and wears them, claiming they're smarter now. He calls himself “Professor Misaki” while pushing them up the bridge of their nose.

If you lose your glasses, prepare for them to find the worst replacements. He once handed you pink heart-shaped sunglasses and insisted it was an upgrade.

If you squint at them, they wiggles his eyebrows and says, “Careful, if you keep looking at me like that, I might start thinking you have a crush.”

Angel

She immediately appoints herself your “Seeing Eye Babe.” If you squint for more than a second, she takes your hand and narrates the world around you like you’re in a dramatic audiobook.

When you make typos, she just rolls with them. Whatever weird word salad you send becomes canon. You once typed “I need a hug pls” as “I need a hog pls,” and now she periodically sends you piglet pictures.

If you’re squinting in her direction, she just tilts her head and teases, “Sweetheart, if you wanted to check me out, all you had to do was ask.”

If you lose your glasses, she will find them immediately. She has a sixth sense for misplaced items and is smug about it every time.

When she catches you struggling, she pulls your glasses from your bag and slides them onto your face with a fond smile. “I like your eyes better when you aren’t torturing them.”

She once bedazzled your glasses case without telling you. You open your bag and suddenly it’s glitter city. “Now you’ll never lose them again,” she winks.

Ronin

Oh, he lives for your mistakes. Every typo is ammo for his endless mockery. He purposefully misreads them to make things worse.

“What do you mean, 'I’d like to grab a dork'? Bold move. Keep talking.”

If you squint at him, he just smirks and leans in too close. “Better? Or do you need me even closer, baby?”

Constantly calls you “Blind Bat,” but somehow it sounds weirdly affectionate. Like you’re his favorite helpless disaster.

If you lose your glasses, he will absolutely hold them hostage until you grovel for them back. And, oh, he will make you grovel.

When he sees you straining at your screen, he dramatically sighs and tugs you onto his lap. “If you won’t fix your eyesight, I guess I’ll just have to keep you close so you don’t wander off and die.”

Despite all the teasing, he memorizes where you usually leave your glasses. He never admits it, but when you panic because you can’t find them, he always knows exactly where to look.

[robthegoodfellow]

whenever I see a post about corvid intelligence or crows befriending people I wanna write this scenario where Eddie accidentally earns the loyalty of Hawkins' crows. Like it starts with him tossing his leftover sandwich crusts at a few hanging around the trailer park, and then...

A squawking fracas woke him one morning, so obnoxious that he dragged himself outside to investigate—to chase away the mob of birds fighting over dibs at the dumpster, he assumed. Instead, he followed the noise to the rusted fence behind his uncle's place that'd been holding on by a corroded thread for years—until approximately ten minutes ago, when the racket started up. Beneath the fallen section of flaking chain links was a tangled lump of black feathers, beaked head poking through to bay at the air. Its comrades ducked and bobbed around it, pecking at the metal bars, but every tug only ensnared the trapped bird worse.

On reflection, rushing in with an oh, shit wasn't the best move—the crowd of hecklers launched to hover in the air, feinting at him in screeching chorus.

"I come in peace!" he cried, hunched under pleading hands. Kept one arm raised like he sported an invisible shield, one eye on the dive-bombers, and crouching low, groped at the snarl of metal on the ground.

One bomber dove for his face, veering to avoid a defensive swipe.

"I'm trying to help. Quit murdering me!"

The hecklers heckled. Tough crowd. Eddie grimaced, trying to get a grip that wouldn't also give him tetanus, and managed to lift the shorn links. Soon as it raised off the dirt, the squished feathers wriggled and twisted, yanking free with a rattle.

"See?" Eddie shouted, as the bolt of black shook itself and took to the air. "You're welcome. Now shut the fuck up!"

They didn't, but allowed him to escape back to his trailer unmolested.

He hadn't thought anything of it, until a few days later, when he found a small pile of shiny trash on his doorstep. Broken teeny-bopper bracelet, a crusty nickel, a bottle cap... and a guitar pick.

A squawk drew his attention to the pair of crows perched on the roof. Bending, Eddie grabbed the pick.

"This?" he said, waving it. "This is legal tender! Not the rest of this junk. Although..." He crouched to get a better look at the bracelet. "This does have its charms," he admitted.

The crows heckled. Eddie ignored them, fiddling to detach the dolphin, repurpose the clip to latch the plastic chain round his wrist. Liked the contrast—garish neons against his leather cuff, dark bands of brown and black.

"Fuck it, right?" He raised his fist, newly bedazzled, to salute the supplicants with some devil horns. "Rock and roll."

And from then on, he and the crows had an understanding. If they were making a racket within earshot, he'd go check if they needed help, and if they found something he might like, they'd leave an offering on the stoop. Highlights included a BIC lighter and a tattered twenty dollar bill. Once, he'd accidentally left his keys at the picnic table where he did business and barely had time to notice, patting his pockets with sinking realization, when they clattered to the pavement—just dropped from the sky.

"Ah, killer!" Relieved, he scooped them up, then put fist to palm and bowed his thanks to the crow alighting atop the van.

As a sign of respect, he'd started incorporating crows as part of his aesthetic: got some sick tattoos on his chest and forearm, had a growing collection of feathers he kept in a jar like a goth bouquet, added a couple silhouettes to perch inside the Os of the Corroded Coffin banner. Even designed a druid character with a crow familiar, which he kindly gifted to Gareth when his player got roasted beyond revival by a wyvern.

"You're like Snow White," Jeff joked, as Eddie pocketed a quarter, binning the rest of the stoop offerings. Jeff was crashing there for the weekend to escape divorce drama at home.

"Quid pro crow, man," said Eddie, shrugging. "Do them a solid and they'll get you back."

A pair of hecklers cawed from the roof. Ed flipped them the bird. They were his regulars, the ones he’d dubbed Statler and Waldorf.

Jeff paused, squinting at them, speculative. Then dug out a packet of half-eaten peanut butter crackers and tossed them up, one at a time. Cue the jubilant, cackling duet.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Eddie predicted, motioning him inside.

Didn’t know at the time how right he was—or how closely his crownies were following his movements around town, monitoring from on high. And not just his movements, but the people considered part of his “flock,” so to speak.

One day, Gareth and Jeff showed up for practice a little worse for wear, victims of the knuckle-draggers that populated the football team. Ripped shirt, bloody lip. The usual.

Unusual was the crowd gathered in the parking lot the next day, a baffled circle around the quarterback’s hot rod, which that morning gleamed red but at some point during school had been treated to a fresh coat of bird shit. White gooey splatters from hood to trunk.

It was a convertible. He’d left the top down.

And stuck to the windshield, like a calling card: a black feather.

Eddie was quick to corral the guys away, hushing all vengeful laughter until they were safely in the van, then they let loose. Jeff was wiping tears of mirth, wheezing: “You weren’t kidding, man.”

“Look,” Frankie cried, pointing out the windshield, and lo—Statler and Waldorf were perched on the wipers, joined by Damsel, so named because Ed was pretty sure it’d been the one he found in such distress, way back when.

As one, the band saluted their benefactors, and Eddie swore the birds puffed their chests, bobbing their heads in satisfaction.

From then on, it was swooping season for anyone who bothered him or the boys under the keen surveillance of those eyes in the skies.

But Eddie knew he’d gone beyond Disney princess status that summer. He was fooling around on the Warlock outside the trailer, unplugged, lounging in a lawn chair, humming under his breath—just some Ozzy, flying high again—when a sudden flapping weight dipped the neck of the guitar.

“You scratch this thing, I will murder you,” he warned, eying the pinchy talons gripping between the pegs. Damsel cocked its head, like oh, really? Eddie gently jerked the Warlock, a shooing motion, and the bird hopped with a huffy flutter onto his knee.

They stared each other down for a sec—a measuring stare. Almost daring. Some of the feathers around its neck stuck out all scruffy where the fence had bit into it, left a scar. Halting, hesitant, Eddie extended a finger, then his hand, nice and slow, intending to… give a scritch or something?

An inch away, the beak snapped at him, barely missed, and he jumped so hard the damn bird launched skyward, flapping to hover.

Behind them, he could hear the hecklers in hysterics.

“Bitch!” he shouted, clutching the Warlock close to calm his racing heart. “See if I ever save your scrawny necks again.”

Heedless, Damsel swooped to land on his knee—again. Like it knew full well he would. Save them. Again. If it came down to it.

“Calling my bluff,” he muttered, aggrieved. “Gonna make me eat crow?”

Statler and Waldorf voiced their displeasure.

“Fuck off! You love it.”

They did, was the thing. Eddie knew it. They’d thrown their lots in with him, and he with them. So in the end, he wasn’t so much a princess.

More an accessory to murder.

Also on AO3

[heywardsdoll]

pope hates bringing you with him on a pogue mission. but usually you cry your way into it, fat tears welling in your eyes as you tugged on his shirt. and all he needs to cave in is seeing your pretty pout, and the way your eyes shine with sadness.

"i don't want to be left out. i really don't pope," you whisper, folding your arms as you hope he understands. pope raises his eyebrows before you tug on his t-shirt again.

it's here that he looks away from you, "shit, you can't do that to me. seriously, you can't just do that!" then you sniffle, a sorry sound and he seems to sigh, shoulders caving in as he tries to look anywhere but you. "fine, fine. grab your coat on the way out, it's kinda chilly outside."

that's pope. no matter what, even if he was mad at you, he was taking care of you. he's glare, even scowl as he saw you get what you want—but then soon after he'd be tucking your shirt in, or getting you some water because hydration is important, it's even worse with the pogues because you look like a baby. it makes it seem like you couldn't take care of yourself, but you couldn't help but flush every single time he holds you in your arms, or places a careful kiss on your forehead.

he's thoughtful, and it's horrible when he corners you to secretly kiss you when you're on the way to find the cross. theres something so intimate about him whispering about purpose, and how he's finally got what his ancestors wanted him. it's that feverish emotion that makes you want to be there for him.

but there are too many close calls, from the time pope got stung by bees, to rafe following you a few too many times.

sometimes you work at the grocery store, checking in people's stuff, telling the old lady where she can find cornstarch, and then helping the little boy who cried about his red lolly getting lost under the shelves, (his brother had kicked it under there.) pope would always come to find you, all sweaty and tired before you hung your hands over his head and then kissed him softly.

but one time he came a bit too late, and rafe had been your last customer. there was a shit-eating smile on his face, as he smirked before placing a pack of mint gum on the counter.

"is that all?" you muttered, trying not to look him in the eye. pope had told you about the type of person rafe cameron was, and for all you knew he could do what he wanted to do, and could get away with it, a hundred times. no one in the store except him, and it was almost six o'clock.

"yeah, uh," he drawled pulling out his couple of bucks, "keep the change."

you nodded putting the money into the cash register, the small ding of the register calming as you touched your necklace protectively. it's stupid, you know, but the pink taser gun that pope had jokingly bedazzled sticks to your side as a reminder as you could feel his eyes on you. rafe dark eyes followed you as you shut the cash register, giving him a cold smile. your hands are sticky with sweat.

suddenly he's almost out of the door, and you let out a sigh of relief before you here his almost-bored voice drone out. theres snark in his comment.

"tell your boy we're watching him. shit, uh–and," rafe laughed, a boisterous sound before winking, "tell him to stay on the low. it's dangerous out here and you don't wanna get caught with anything, you know?" then he grins, before popping a piece of gum in his mouth, teeth shining bright and you couldn't help but shiver.

later that night, you were hyperventilating so hard, pope had to put his arms over you and kiss you repeatedly, soft and soothing. you have to keep reaching for him to tell yourself pope was fine, and that rafe was just threatening for no reason, and that you were being overbearing.

"he's sick, and he's twisted pope! i want to keep you safe. please, please stay safe," you choked out, your hands to your side as you walked in circles. you kept taking sharp breaths as pope tried to calm you down.

pope had sighed, "doll, i will stay safe, but i don't like that he's talking about this stuff to you. i want to keep you away from it, i mean when i met your mom—" then he cocks an eyebrow in your direction, but then stops right there. it's almost condescending, knowing where this is going to go. he's telling you not to come, but you have to go with him because you have to keep him safe. you can't lose him, you just can't.

"are you saying i shouldn't come with you guys anymore?" you whisper out, a sharp warning in your voice as you bit your lip. he had looked away from you, and then raised his hands in defeat and the conversation was over.

but here you were, laying in his lap in the twinkie. you were completely wiped out as pope ran a hand over your face. you murmur something under your breath before snuggling closer to him. jj lets out a low whistle, wiggling his eyebrows, only to get a disapproving look from pope.

"she got you under her paws, doesn't she?" jj crowed, and you stir as pope rolls his eyes, looking at john b for support. john b just smiles, giving pope a pointed look. it was true, pope would do practically anything for you.

then comes the serious sigh. pope's eyebrows are creased, as he absentmindedly rubs circles on your shoulder. you smile softly in your sleep, warm as ever.

quickly enough jj snaps his fingers in pope's face, "hey man, what the hell was that sigh about? all wistful and shit." jj muttered, a confused look on his face before shaking pope.

"i-," pope started, before shaking his head, "nah, it's stupid." he's still got his hands on you, playing with the string bracelet that you gave him. it was a old thing, practically falling apart, and jj made fun of it.

now it's jj's turn to snort, shoving pope with an indignant expression "you stupid? c'mon what's got your pretty head in a ditzy?"

"i don't know. john b back me up on this but, i don't like seeing my girl around this stuff. it kills me, to see her racing after the same danger as us," pope muttered, groaning as he looked away from your face, "and the other day rafe cornered her and she was scared shitless."

then he shakes his head, "and you know what, i should be protecting her from that sort of stuff, but no, no!" he grins but it's full of resentment, "no, i'm introducing her to it."

now this has the boys attention. jj gave pope a sympathetic look, patting him on the back as john b nodded. the playful demeanour of the conversation stirred into something else.

"i get it, man. we all want to keep her safe," john b said, his voice calm and reassuring. "but she's tough. she's stronger than you think."

"yeah, but it's not just about being tough," pope replied, face screwed up with frustration, toying with a lock of your hair. "i know she's tough! tougher than me sometimes. but it's about not wanting her to be exposed to this shit at all. she deserves better."

quickly john b sighed, hand on the wheel and it was almost as if his dark circles were more evident than ever.

"you think i don't worry about sarah?" john b countered, his tone soft but firm. "i worry about her all the time, but she made her choice to be with us, to face whatever comes our way. it's the same with your girl. she chose to be with you, to stand by your side, no matter the danger."

pope sighed again, his hand still gently caressing your shoulder. "i know, i just... i don't want to be the reason something happens to her."

"then keep doing what you're doing," jj interjected, his voice surprisingly gentle. "protect her, look out for her. but don't push her away. she's here because she loves you, man. she wants to be with you, even if it means facing danger."

pope nodded, his gaze softening as he looked down at your peaceful face. "yeah, i know. it's just hard sometimes."

"it's hard because you care," john b said, offering a reassuring smile. "and that's a good thing. just don't forget to trust her, too. she can handle more than you think."

the conversation lulled as the twinkie rolled on through the night, the familiar hum of the engine a comforting background noise. pope could hear the birds chirp, and he settled his head on the window before getting up with a confused expression.

"shit, when did you guys get so smart?" pope groaned, "it was easier when i was surrounded by idiots,"

jj laughed, resting a hand on pope's shoulder. "took a page out of your book, maybe it's time you take a page out ours," he winked, nudging pope gently.

pope finally looked down at you, a soft sigh leaving his mouth as you stirred slightly, mumbling something in your sleep. and for what it was worth—pope smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently.

[tourturestarradio]

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Pairing: Erik Lensherr x Fem! Mutant Reader x Charles Xavier

Prompt: You were a famous model, and performer everyone thought you were perfect. Everyone loved you, but if they knew what you were, what ugly secret you had hidden, all of that would go down the drain.

Warning: Kinda long, Mention of nudity (none sexual), sassy/mean reader at first, takes place during X-men : First class, (name) in stead of Y/n, slightly insecure reader

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

Erik and Charles looked around at the people hurrying past, staring at the bedazzled door that had the woman's name written on a golden star.

Now if you're wondering what they were doing, they had sneaked their way backstage to a performance that you were the main event of, on Charles search for other mutants he had come across you had popped up in his mind.

So the two had searched for where to find you, but luck was on their side because you just so happened to be performing tonight, and they couldn't miss their chance so they had slipped through the chaos a funneled their way backstage.

As they were going to open the door a man with a clipboard came up to them "excuse me what are you doing?" he questioned looking at them suspiciously but obviously preoccupied with the people calling for him.

Charles thought for a moment "we were making a delivery for Miss (Name)" the man looked both of them up and down before someone was calling him again, shoving a bouquet of flowers into Eriks arms he hurried past them "well give those to her, they're from her husband boyfriend or whatever he is to her" he saying rushing away.

Erik looked at the waddling man in annoyance but Charles spoke up "well at least we have a reason to go in there now." he grinned, but Erik looked unamused "right, let's just get this over with" he muttered, Charles knocked on the door and heard a quick and sharp "enter." opening the door Charles and Erik were shocked to see you seated at a vanity desk top-less.

You were sitting doing your make-up you stopped and looked at them through the reflection of the mirror "Did you come here to stare or did you need something?" You asked raising a brow.

Charles and Erik straightened up "we came to uh drop this off, but we needed to talk with you." you turned around and stood up both Charles and Erik looked away grabbing the flowers a tiny smile graced your stone cold face.

You looked at them both "oh? Listen whatever you're here for I don't do, maybe one of the hookers down the street might do the job." you stated placing the flowers down. Charles shook his head "oh, no it's nothing of that matter." he reassured.

You blinked in surprise about to say something, but a quick knock stopped you "Miss (name), you're on in two minutes!" the voice called out, quickly you snatched up two pasties quickly putting them on you gave a quick flick making sure they didn't come off.

"Hand me that please" you said pointing to a thin pink robe Charles handed it to you and you wrapped it around you "I'll talk with you after" picking up a pair of pink and white feather fans you rushed out the room before either Erik or Charles could get a word out.

Standing there stunned Erik and Charles let out a sigh, but the door opened up and you popped your head in "get out. Either wait outside of my dressing room or watch the show." you stated before shutting the door.

Erik and Charles walked out of the room "she's quite fierce." Charles commented.

-★-

Charles grew curious and wanted to watch your performance Erik reluctantly followed along and watched the performance to which they weren't very disappointed, it looks like you were so well regarded for a reason.

After your entertaining show Erik and Charles had went to find you backstage again. Erik leaned over "all this trouble she'd better have an impressive power." he muttered.

Knocking on your door, it only took a few seconds before you opened the door "oh right, come in. But make it quick." You stated, letting them in Charles and Erik sat down, you wiped off your makeup "what did you need, well first who are you?" you asked, "I'm Charles Xavior" Charles stated placing his hand out for you to shake.

But you didn't shake his hand "and you are?" you say glancing at the other male through the mirror "Erik Lensherr" he said simply, you took note of their names "well i'm sure you know who I am" you hummed.

Charles nodded "well we heard you had a special ability." you seemingly tensed up, looking at them you glared "look whatever you heard is a lie." you stated sharply, Charles and Erik looked confused by your words.

"Don't worry-"

'We're like you as well'

A voice spoke inside of your head, you looked at Charles slowly shaking your head as you reached to grab your make up bag when your hand stopped the metal bracelet around your wrist moving towards Erik.

Slapping your hand over your bracelet. You shook your head "no, no you aren't like me. I-I'm not...." you gulped, Erik tilted his head "you don't have to hide who you are" he said.

"No, i'm not like you. I'm not a mutant." you spat seemingly growing nervous, "you don't need to be scared (Name)" Charles said, peeking into your mind.

'Should I trust them?....No they'll think i'm ugly, horrorfing even....how did they know i've never told anyone.'

Erik looked at you "you're scared...aren't you?" he spoke, you looked at him your stern and calm demeanor melted away into one fear "I...I've never told anyone...so how do you know?" you say standing up quickly now on edge.

"I'm a telepath, Erik and I are looking for Mutants we're forming a team." Charles explained, shaking your head 'no' you pointed towards the door "i'm not joining any team of any kind so get out. This conversation is over" you glared, Charles now also stood up "but-"

"I said no. Now get out both of you-" clutching at your chest a painful prick went through your body as you doubled over, Charles walked over "are you alright-" you swatted him away "get out!" you shouted.

Just as Erik was about to step in your door opened and a man with a suit came in "what the hell is going on?" Charles and Erik looked at the man knowing their chance for speaking was over.

Charles subtly placed a card with his number and address on it before they were both forced out of the room.

"Well that could have gone better." Erik remarked, Charles didn't say anything as he was seemingly upset to which Erik noticed "don't think too much about it she's probably had to hide her true self for so long she's forgotten who she really is. A mutant." 

-★-

A few days had passed and Charles was still thinking about you, wondering why you were so frightened usually any other mutant would jump at the prospect of other mutants showing themselves. But you. Your mind, you were so scared. 

And he wanted to know why?

But before he could think any further on it Raven had popped her head into his room "you will never guess who's outside right now!" Charles sat up "who?" he questioned "(Name)! I didn't know she knew you." getting up Charles went outside and saw you standing there looking more than upset.

"Lovely to see you again...Fully clothed this time" he joked seemingly trying to cheer you up. You ignored him though "I...I need to talk to you okay." you said.

He nodded walking back inside the building with you following close behind him. You looked around seemingly nervous, going into his office area you sat down a sad look in your eyes.

"Well would you like to tell me what's on your mind or do you want me to read it?" Charles asked, You shook your head "I...I'm a mutant." you stated, Charles nodded "yes I know." he said leaning back on his desk.

"But I...I hate my mutation."

"And who taught you to hate it?" Erik asked, walking into the room.

"My-my parents....they were the only people who knew about it." You muttered, Erik sat next to you "are they mutants?" he asked, you shook your head simply "they said it was ugly, no one would like me if they knew what I was. So they did everything they could to make sure I never showed it" you explained, "they tried to pretend I didn't have it." You added.

Erik cocked his head to the side "what is your mutation?" he asked, you sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to describe it...i'll just show you." you hummed taking off your coat you slid off your shirt turning so your back faced them.

A thin line appeared across your back before it started to separate sharp and crooked teeth lined the inside of the now gaping mouth, rows of sharp teeth moved ever so slightly Erik and Charles stared at your back in awe.

A giant mouth.

There was a giant mouth on your back, two smaller lines appeared appeared on your back as well opening two eyes looked back at them blinking in curiosity staring at the two men in front-well behind you.

Their silence made you self conscious as you attempted to pull you coat back on but you heard Erik mutter "magnificent."

"You don't find me-creepy?" you asked turning your head to face them, both Charles and Erik shook their heads "no." "never"

Erik reached to touch your back but you called out "I wouldn't-" but before you could blink a long thin tongue shot out from the center of the mouth wrapping around his arm yanking him towards the mouth.

"Oh no! stop that! I'm sorry I don't have very good control over this!" you closed up the mouth the tongue let go as the mouth closed up and the line disappearing as if there was nothing there.

Putting your shirt back on you turned around "I must say that is quite impressive." Charles said, you gulped "well I'm glad you two think it's great, but my husband didn't" you say sitting down.

Erik frowned "is that why you're here?" he asked, you looked away "after you two left I thought about it, I thought I could tell him, that he would accept it...but he just...." you quickly wiped away your tears.

Erik came closer to you "he's a human, it wouldn't matter what type of mutation you had." he sighed, "he still would think less of you. But you're with us now, there's no need to hide it anymore." he stated.

You waved him off "but if people find out about this, I-I could lose everything! Everything I worked so hard for" you say clenching your fist.

Erik and Charles understood your fear but Erik was annoyed by how much you worried about what other people thought. He leaned forward "if they really loved you, it wouldn't matter if you were a mutant" he stated.

"No I'm supposed to be a star, I have to be perfect. I mean people look up to me, but this?! They'll never like me, they'll think i'm a monster-" you hunched over again gripping at your chest teeth starting to poke out.

Charles put a hand on Erik's shoulder moving him back "alright, just calm down." you glanced at him "sorry it just flares up when I get overwhelmed or upset" you explained. Erik leaned back "so what exactly can you do?" he asked, changing the subject around.

You looked at them looking in curiosity "well the mouth thing kinda appears when I want it to, or in self defense but if I eat something it get's sent to a pocket dimensions and I can store things in it, but if I have too much I can throw it back up. throw something at me" you explain while lifting your shirt, Charles picked up a coffee mug and tossed it your way.

Your chest opened up the thin tongue shot out and wrapped around the coffee mug and pulled it back toward the mouth the teeth closing it in seemingly swallowing it.

Charles and Erik looked at each other then back at you "wow, so do you have a limit on what you can eat?" you shook your head "I can eat borderline anything." you said, Charles smiled "so how big of objects can you eat?" he asked.

You dragged your eyes away "well I ate a chair once so I think that speaks for itself" Erik lightly smirked "well that's interesting." he commented.

Reaching your hand into your chest mouth you seemingly felt around to find something pulling the coffee mug out you placed it on the desk.

Sitting back down you frowned "it isn't quite helpful" you shrug, Charles sighed at your pessimistic attitude "well we can help train you, but before we get you physically strong, you need to get mentally stronger." he said tapping your forehead.

"Well first, do you think....do you think I get something to eat?" you asked, Charles nodded "yes of course follow me"

-★-

Charles stared at the pile of food in front of you, "didn't mean to take so much but, she can get pretty hungry" you said patting your stomach. Charles waved you off "please help yourself" he hummed, Charles half expected you to eat the food yourself but the mouth had opened up but it was much smaller, still as aggressive though.

Charles watched as you fed the mouth a few questions popping up in his mind "why feed it? is it sentient?" he asked, you tilted your head "well I don't really know...I mean she feels hunger but I've always fed her since I was younger, in secret though" you hummed, Charles subtly scooted closer to you "why's that?"

You looked away "…she ate a lamp…" you muttered in embarrassment, Charles eyes widened in shock "what?!" he chuckled, "it's not funny!" Charles tried to hold in his laughter but it was futile.

"Do you know how hard it is to cough up a lamp?" You asked taking a bite of your food, after his laughter died down he leaned his body back onto the table "your ability...it is much more special than you think" he stated, you glanced over "yeah right..." you mumbled, Charles walked up to you tilting your chin to look up at him from where you were seated "I mean it (name), your special" his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, you gulped.

Before you knew it your tongue wrapped around his throat "oh! sorry!" you shouted, trying to close your chest up Charles tapped into your mind to calm you down.

'Damn it girl! Really?! You almost got a kiss and you ruined it! Let go!'

"Be calm"

Your body relaxed and your mind calming back down and your chest closed back up, you stood up quickly "I'm gonna go now." you state hurrying out of the room Charles chuckling watching you go.

-★-

Erik stood in front of you "again." using his powers he tossed a metal chunk at you, your tongue reached for it but Erik moved it out of your reach and again your tongue tried to grab at it.

You and Erik had been at this for a few hours now but you were getting nowhere, and you were hungry, like really hungry. Your control over your ability was starting to slip.

"Come on again, this time try." Erik stated, you glared at him "I am trying." you spat, Erik raised a brow "are you?" he questioned, his tone annoying you "yes I am" you grumble the teeth in your actual mouth sharpening which didn't go unnoticed by Erik.

"What was the point of coming here for help if you aren't going to take this serious?" he asked, you frowned "I am taking this serious, I've never had to use my powers before. So this'll be a little tough" you huffed, Erik only rolled his eyes at your statement.

"Alright, again." he used his powers to move the metal ball again but as your tongue shot out to grab it the tip expanded out like a net and wrapped around the ball and going back into your chest.

"Well that's new..." you muttered.

Erik smirked but was also intrigued by your new tongue, for reference your tongue looked like the underside of a vampire squid.

"I'm gonna go eat" You grumbled walking away Erik watching you go but to his surprise he felt the metal ball smack the back of his head turning around he saw it drop on the ground.

He looked back to you before following you "how'd you do that?" he asked, you looked confused "do what?" you asked, Erik used his ability to bring the metal ball over to you "I mean I spat it out, but I thought it would land behind me or something?" you say cocking your head to the side.

Erik thought for a moment "hm, maybe when you concentrate hard enough you can teleport whatever object out in a specific area. That'll be something to try later" he explained, you grinned "I get to potentially throw things back out at you? I might just take you up on that offer" you chuckled.

Erik looked seemingly unamused but under that scowl his heart softened, he knew you were slowly starting to get more comfortable in your own skin, and with your mutation.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: I might write more for this idk whatever, Sorry if readers mutation was kinda hard to follow, or if the descriptions were confusing. It's loosely based off of muzan's final form from demon slayer, but with my own little spin. I LOVE ERIK AND CHALESS AHHHHHHHHHHH anyway hope you enjoyed, have a good day/night.

[jjungkookislife]

Envolver Ch. 3

ღ pairing: vmin x reader

ღ genre: poly am!au, fwb, f2l, smut 18+

ღ summary: Halloween is a busy night at the bar. However, you still find time to sneak away for a private night with Jimin and Taehyung.

ღ wc: 3.2k

ღ warnings: alcohol use/mention, oral sex, making out, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, degradation, praise, threesome in a workplace, cum swallowing, creampie, interrupted aftercare :(

ღ date: October 31, 2024

Music pounded in your ears as you swirled your drink with your straw just to hear the soft clink of the ice against the glass. Your efforts for the evening had been rewarded as the patrons around you gushed about the Halloween decor. 

Your almost boyfriends were busy behind the bar as they served drinks and sent flirty smiles to their customers to earn tips. 

Psy was at another table, laughing at something his companion said. He wore a bright pink western outfit, just as extravagant as the sets he wore for Western Night. 

“Hey!” Psy grins when he spots you, eagerly waving you over to his table. You hug him tightly, giggling when he squeezes you before he releases you. “I’m so glad you’re here! This place looks fantastic.”

“And I didn’t go over budget,” you grin. Psy laughs and hugs you again, kissing your temple.

“And that’s why I love you! She’s great,” Psy says to his companion. “The best!”

You smile bashfully, accepting his praise before he waves over a server to get you a drink. He pats the chair beside him, and you take the seat.

Spiderwebs hang overhead, and a flash of light turns the ceiling purple, green, and dark blue. Spiders linger overhead, skeletons set on corners enjoy their fake drinks, and the bar has fake blood dripping off the sides.

Namjoon is the first to spot you as he climbs onto the bar. His long black cape is tied around his neck, the collar pulled up high. His fangs glint when the spotlight hits him. Hoseok joins him in his Fae costume, his purple hair makes your heart flip. They both look so good.

Your thoughts wander to the last time it was just the three of you in the bar. How easily they bent you over it, taking turns fucking you until you left with shaking legs.

Hoseok looks at the crowd as he rips his blazer open, buttons flying into the crowd as his sculpted torso appears, shimmering under the spotlight. The crowd’s cheers are raucous. You plug your ears until it dies down, but you cheer along with them.

Hoseok turns around, his blazer sliding off his broad shoulders. He moves his hips seductively. Namjoon moves forward, grips the back of Hoseok’s neck, and brings him in. He makes a show of showing his fangs to the crowd before he sinks into Hoseok’s neck, earning cheers that rattle the building. Tips go flying in the air as Namjoon brings Hoseok’s thigh between his, moving back and forth until they separate, going to opposite ends of the stage.

Seokjin joins them in the middle. His Sea Captain uniform makes you drool, and you hope he’ll keep it intact until you can rip it off him with your teeth later on. You press your thighs together as Seokjin motions for Namjoon and Hoseok to join him in the middle.

“Welcome to tonight’s Halloween Extravaganza! Our Poison Apple drink is to die for!” Seokjin laughs as the crowd cheers. “We have a lot in store for you tonight! Games, cash prizes, a costume contest, and a dance on the bar where the winner gets a partner for the rest of the night!” Seokjin pauses for the crowd to cheer.

Namjoon and Hoseok clap on the bar, while the rest of your friends, boyfriends? Clap behind them.

Jungkook has taken his Scream mask off, which he will do in between intervals to rack up some tips, though they have been stacking when he puts the mask on. His plastic knife is bedazzled and is strapped to his arm for photo ops. Tonight’s event is ticketholder only, with a few lucky regulars in the crowd.

The tables are filled with patrons, some lingering near the bar, and some on the makeshift dancefloor. You sip your drink as the music starts up again as Seokjin, Namjoon, and Hoseok step off the bar.

“Glad you could make it, baby,” Yoongi startled you as he appeared beside you. He chuckles at your reaction. You cup his face, your fingers lightly tracing the fake scar over his eye. It had come out a lot better than you thought. You had erased and redrawn that bitch so many times, almost rubbing his poor face raw.

“Hey, my little mobster,” you tease, giggling when he rolls his eyes dramatically.

“Admit it, I look hot,” he grips the lapels of his suit, and you nod mindlessly. If you had him at home, you would have dropped to your knees in front of him, begging him to fuck your pretty face until you cried. That is why they had left home early to get ready at the bar.

“You a'ight,” you shrug as you down your drink.

Yoongi cackles as he drapes his arm over your shoulders. “So easy to fluster.”

“Shut up!” you whine as you wave down a server. Yoongi pauses his teasing long enough to order you a drink before he rests his head on your shoulder.

“You look amazing,” he compliments you. “The Queen of Hearts suits you.”

You know he means no ill intent but your heart still cracks. You know you’ve been stalling on defining the relationship but it’s only because you’re afraid of how things will change between you.

“Where’s your weapon?” you ask, changing the subject.

“In my pants,” Yoongi wiggles his brows, and you playfully smack his chest.

Yoongi throws his head back as he laughs. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a pair of chopsticks.

“That’s it?”

“You haven’t seen what I can do with them yet,” Yoongi shrugs as he tucks them back in his pants pocket. “But I can show you.”

You gulp as you stare at him. Your drink arrives, and the server sets it in front of you. Yoongi reaches for it, downing half before gripping your chin and opening your mouth. You welcome the drink, swallowing it down before Yoongi sets the glass on the table.

“Show me,” you respond after you swallow.

“So eager,” he smirks as he kisses you, passing you the ice cube in his mouth. The coolness surprises you as you crunch down on the cube. “But there’s no time.”

Yoongi leaves you panting, thighs pressed together and cunt clenching around nothing. He easily walks to the bar, taking his spot beside Seokjin as the night's first game begins. You wave down a server, ordering a cup of ice to cool yourself.

~

Bobbing for dildoes instead of apples wasn’t on your list of games for tonight, but catching Yoongi’s reaction to catching the biggest one may have been worth it. 

“You just have to rile me up,” Yoongi sighs as he presses your back to the wall of the locker room. You grunt, moaning when his lips meet yours before you can answer him.

Yoongi lifts your leg to his waist, his lips pressed to yours. He grinds against you, moaning your name as you rub against him. He desperately wishes to bury himself inside you

 and make you cream his cock but it’s only a few minutes before Jimin is calling his name to get on stage.

“To be continued?” Yoongi asks with one last kiss.

You nod. “To be continued.”

Yoongi kisses your cheek before he leaves you in the locker room to catch your breath. Your cheeks flush with heat as you slip back into the crowd. You join Psy at his table, grateful he’s saved your seat as you watch Yoongi and Jungkook climb onto the bar.

You fan yourself with your hand as you watch them dance.

Bills get thrown at the two of them as you sit back and watch. The music pounds against the walls, as you leave your seat long enough to join the crowd, huddled at the bar. Yoongi spots you immediately and smiles. He shakes his butt harder, his smile glowing brighter.

Yoongi and Jungkook finish their dance, Jungkook stripping down to nearly his boxers. You shake your head, you’ll have the elder men wrangle him back in.

 You sip on your drink as Jimin and Taehyung are introduced to the crowd. You clap loudly beside Psy. He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Jimin! Tae!” you scream as loud as you can.

Both men turn to you, hearing you above the crowd. 

Taehyung is clad in his red outfit and mask. An outfit worn on a popular show. Jimin dazzles in his leather outfit. His mask rests behind the bar as he dances to his heart’s content.

Jimin waits for the song's apex before he drops to his knees in front of Taehyung. 

The younger man smirks as he unzips his suit, just low enough to tease the patrons and Jimin.

The crowd goes wild as Taehyung grabs a handful of Jimin’s black hair, tugging his head back before he kisses him. Bills fly toward them, the thundering crowd growing insane as the kiss ends.

You fanned yourself as you tried to cool yourself down.

The song ends too soon before they both step off the bar.

Seokjin takes over as MC. He leads the crowd to the next game, laughing as the patrons stumble over themselves to get in a line.

You excuse yourself, heading to the locker room as quickly as possible. You type the code in quickly, shutting the door after you before you head to the familiar couch. You fix your makeup in a mirror, knowing your lipstick will smear before you head back to your table.

Minutes later the door opens. Taehyung and Jimin walk through, both laughing at something before they spot you on the couch.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite girl,” Taehyung smirks.

“You look great, babe,” Jimin states as he sits on your left side.

“That you do, boo,” Taehyung smirks as he sits on your right.

“Queen of Hearts? More like Queen of my heart, am I right?” Jimin wiggles his eyebrows.

“Do you have an off button?” you ask him feigning annoyance.

“Only when I cum,” Jimin cackles when you shove him.

“You’re insufferable,” you complain as Tae pulls you onto his lap, straddling him.

“I’m not,” Tae smirks, his hand tangled in your hair. He pulls you toward him, his lips meeting yours. A moan escapes you, heart flipping in your chest.

Taehyung holds your hips, his lips melding with yours perfectly. Your hands rest on his shoulders for a moment. They soon move down to his zipper, pulling it down until it bunches at his waist.

“Don’t ignore me,” Jimin huffs with a petulant frown. He inches closer in his leather pants. His rabbit mask sits off to the side. He pats his lap, and you crawl toward him. He moves you so your back is pressed to his chest.

Your legs splay open on his lap as Taehyung moves off the couch to the floor. He drops to his knees, licking his lips when he spots your panties. You moan as you kiss Jimin, melting into him as Taehyung spreads your legs further apart.

Jimin tugs your dress down to expose your breasts. His hands cup each tit, his fingers rub your hard nipples. You sigh, moaning his name as you try to close your legs to press them together but Tae stops you as he helps you out of your wet panties, tossing them over his shoulder.

Jimin kisses your neck as he rubs your clit in tight circles, moaning your name into the column of your throat.

“That’s it, princess. Moan for me,” Jimin encourages you as he continues his ministrations. “That’s it, baby. What a good fucking girl.”

Jimin’s fingers slip inside you easily. You welcome them by spreading your legs on his taut thighs. You’d love to ride his thigh any day of the week but you’re distracted by his fingers fucking you open for his thick cock. You moan, falling apart as he lifts you just enough to have your cunt swallow his cock whole.

You dig your nails into his forearm, moaning at the delectable stretch. 

“Fuck, Jimin,” you curse, nearly drooling over yourself. He chuckles, fucking up into you. 

“You like that, baby? Like getting passed around like the fucking whore you are?” he asks with a toothy grin. Your eyes roll back as you nod in answer. He chuckles darkly, sliding his arms under the back of your knees to spread you further.

“Show Taehyungie how much you like it, slut. Let him see how you cream my fucking cock,” Jimin smirks at Taehyung as you whine. You rest your head on Jimin’s shoulder, whining as his fingers rub your clit until your thighs tremble, orgasm building deep inside you until it bursts.

“Jimin!” you cry out, swearing at him until you calm down.

“Fuck, yes!” Taehyung exclaims as he watches you soak Jimin’s lap. “What a cockhungry, whore for Jiminie.”

“Tae!” you whine, covering your face in embarrassment. Jimin laughs as he pulls your hands off your face. “No hiding for us, princess. You might be the queen of our hearts, but that doesn’t mean we don’t own yours.”

Jimin continues to fuck your creamy, warm cunt. He curses as you tighten around him as Taehyung places his hands on Jimin’s knees, and his tongue meets your clit. Jimin groans when he feels Tae’s fiery tongue on his balls when he licks you.

“That’s it, love. Keep licking her cunt just like that,” Jimin encourages his twin flame. Tae does as he’s told. His tongue fucked the both of you, making your body tingle. Jimin’s strokes are long and slow, his cock filling the deepest parts of you.

Taehyung is jealous, he’s eager for his turn, eager for a taste of your tight cunt wrapped around his fat fucking cock.

“Wanna feel?” Jimin asks Taehyung.

“Please,” The younger man pleads. “Fuck, please.”

Jimin helps you to your hands and knees. You nearly swallow his cock when you get settled. He grabs a handful of your hair, gently thrusting it into your mouth while Tae gets behind you. He fingers you, curling his fingers to make you cum. You cry out around Jimin’s cock, begging for Tae’s cock.

The stretch is delectable. He fills you whole. His large hands grip your hips, his thrusts deep and hard as you choke on Jimin’s cock. You gag, tears rolling down your cheeks as you take both of them with a hearty grin.

“That’s it, baby. What a good slut for us,” Taehyung praises you. You moan in response as you’re fucked within an inch of your life by both men.

Jimin hits the back of your throat, groaning as you swallow around him. Taehyung feels you clench around his length, his nails dig into your hips as he fucks you onto his dick. Both of them moan, looking at each other for a moment before they’re both cumming inside you.

You swallow as much as you can, while Taehyung fills your cunt with him. He makes you cum soon after, thighs shaking as you feel Jimin pull his cock out of your mouth.

Jimin grins. “Well, that was hot as fuck.”

Taehyung agrees as he fucks his cum back into you with his fingers, drawing a second orgasm from you.

“Should we get Yoongi to clean you up?” Taehyung smirks, noting how you tighten around his fingers.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Taehyung giggles as he gets dressed. Jimin sucks his fingers clean before he kisses you. They spend a few minutes at your side, holding you close and kissing your body. They wish they could draw a bath for you, but it’s not long before they’re being called back on stage.

“We’ll send someone in,” Taehyung assures you, frowning as he goes with Jimin on his heels. “We’ll take care of you tonight, love.”

You lay on the couch, fucked out of your mind, expecting Yoongi to join you soon, but instead, Jungkook pops his head into the room.

“Hey,” he greets you with a shy wave.

“Hi!” you chirp as you wave him over. “How are things on stage?”

“They’re going,” he informs you as he sits beside you. “Yoongi and Seokjin are doing body shots for tips.”

You laugh as you relax on the couch. Jungkook sits by your feet but you sit up to let him get closer.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Jungkook asks with a raised brow.

“Wouldn’t you rather be out there doing body shots?” You ask him directly.

“No,” he answers honestly. “I’d rather be here with you.”

“Jungkook,” you start but he presses his finger to your lips.

“Don’t. I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just enjoy this brief time we have together. Just you and I, all alone. That’s a hard thing to come by in our situation.”

“Kook,” you breathe but he hushes you with his lips instead.

“Let us have this moment,” Jungkook whispers before he kisses you again. You thread your fingers in his long hair, moaning when he sucks on your neck.

“There’s not much time,” he whispers as he kisses his way down your body.

“We have all the time we need,” you respond as he grabs your hips to tug you closer to his face. He chuckles, “Nope. Gotta get on stage. Gotta make rent.”

“I’ll keep you home right here,” you’re not sure what you’re babbling about at this point as he kisses up one thigh and then the other.

“Mhhm,” he hums as he licks a stripe up your cunt, teasing your clit for a moment before he moves lower.

“Fuck, I can still taste him. So warm,” Jungkook moans as he drinks you in, his tongue makes you lose yourself shortly after. He wishes he could cum with you, but he simply licks his lips and helps you get dressed.

“We need to go back out there,” he says as he leads you out of the locker room on shaky legs. Instead of depositing you with Psy, he takes you to Namjoon and Hoseok.

“Poor baby,” They coo at you. Namjoon drapes himself around you protectively. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“Wanna cuddle,” you pout as he holds you closer. 

“I know, love. We will. The night is ending,” he states as he holds you while Hoseok rests his head on your shoulder.

Music still fills the bar as Jungkook does his dance, shaking his ass for the crowd. He goes to one end of the bar before he runs forward and drops to his knees to slide the rest of the way. He rips his costume at his chest, showing off his impressive abs to the crowd.

Cheers deafen you as you watch the money flow and the liquor run down his abs from a bottle Jimin has handed Jungkook.

Yoongi spots you from behind the bar. He mouths something to Namjoon, but you’re too tired to respond.

An hour later, the night comes to an end.

You’re left with Yoongi, who is closing up with Hoseok and Seokjin. They busy themselves, eager to head home but you’re sat on the bar with Yoongi between your thighs.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he places his hands on your thigh.

“Exhausted,” you answer him.

Yoongi hums as he helps you off the bar.

“Let’s get you home, Queen of Our Hearts.”

<< previous

[pedge-page]

I can imagine Joel walking in on reader and Sarah playing dress up in their walk in closet where Sarah is in readers heels and lipstick everywhere and reader is hyping her up and everything

Joel Dealing With Wife: Fashion Show!

- - - -

He'd be enjoying some peace and quiet in the living room by himself when he realizes it's too eerily quiet and vacant of all the ladies in the house. He looks behind him, as if some miracle you're all just taking a nap like a peaceful, pleasant family together, but he's met with nothing.

It's... too quiet for his taste.

He debates whether he should attempt to distrust his peace or let his family stay suspiciously missing for another half hour to enjoy himself.

But the ridiculous thought of the two of you stuck in an air vent hanging upside down but not shouting for help out of stubborn pride has him  already on his feet, grunting and stretching his back to get ready for a hunt.

Kitchen? No. Hall? No. Dining? Nope. Stairs? Nada. Sarah's room? Hell no.

He finally makes it to his bedroom, sure that he'll find you two curled up on the bed, but it's still perfectly made and unoccupied. Though, he can hear SOMETHING coming from the walk in closet...

He walks in just in time to see his baby, who JUST recently started walking on her own with those chubby fat thighs, strutting in a pair of your high heels. She can barely pick her feet up, yet still confidently shuffling to keep them on her toes, with bigger than life sun glasses constantly falling down the bridge of her nose, complete with a cheap feathered purple scarf around her neck and hip . Youre sitting pretzel on the floor in the corner, beat boxing with your lips and waving your hand in the air as if it's a concert / fashion show / club hyping the little one and her new fashion up.

You both pause at the male intruder in the room, staring up at him  as if you'd been caught. He then notices Spoon also lying down next to you, and she raises her great head up expectedly, almost pleadingly. The poor dog is similarly dressed up with one of Sarah's tutus around her hip, a little tiara perched on her head, some bedazzled stick-on gems on her snout and what seems to be sloppy hot pink nail polish on her little nails. She looks up at him with desperate, quiet eyes as if pleading for help.

Joel raises his brow at the whole scene, his eyes scanning each one of you over again. He chuckles and shakes his head, mumbling a "sorry girl" to poor Spoon, who puts her head back down and utters a loud sigh of defeat. You and Sarah start up the show again just as he's stepping back out and closing the door behind him.

He can't stop smiling to himself. Whipping out his phone, he opens your chat and begins typing:

"Send me a pict--"

He doesnt even hit send when his notification in the chat goes off:

image attachments*

You: already did :)

And up pops a few  candid photos of super model Sarah with more smolder cool swagness possible for such a tiny baby.

He's already prepping a folder to get these printed at the Walgreens today.

- - - -

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda

[cowboyemeritus]

Cenerentola (Frater Imperator/Reader)

Summary: Copia hosts a gala to celebrate his ascension to head of the Clergy. When things go haywire, it's up to you to keep him safe. In the process, it becomes impossible to avoid your feelings for him any longer.

Content Warning: mild violence, a singular Monty Python reference

Notes: me? writing sfw? it's more likely than you think.

i've been doing a lot of social dancing so naturally that made me think about dancing with copia. i am also a sucker anything remotely cinderella-esque lol. reader is sort of based on an oc of mine.

i don't really know how i feel about this — i had ideas for two related scenes and then had to fill in the gaps from there. sorry it's so long lmao

feedback is always welcome :)

Even amidst the sea of people below, it is impossible for you to miss him. Copia shines like the Morningstar, the candlelight glinting off the ruby brooches and bedazzled collar of his new, freshly pressed suit. All eyes are on him as he spins the delighted young Sister of Sin in his arms, leading her with grace and elegance through the steps of the fast-paced waltz. He’s changed so much in the years since you left the Ministry. Now, with his ascension to head of the Clergy, there are moments where he seems like an entirely different person, exponentially more confident and self-assured than you remember. 

You know his new demeanor, however, betrays a deep-seated anxiety, the product of years of vague threats on his life from the organization he’s now expected to lead. And surely, the irony is not lost on him that the very hall in which he is now dancing sits directly above the crypts, where the bodies of his assassinated brothers lay in eternal repose.

From your position, leaning against a column up on the balcony, you have the entire ballroom in your sights. Every step, every gesture, every side conversation, is under your scrutiny. This was by design. Although Copia, by some miracle, lived to see the end of his reign as Papa, the transition of power has not been an easy one. Threats abound, the old guard of the Clergy still dissatisfied with him, many enraged by his recent promotion. His mother’s scheming was meant to protect him, but now it seems to have backfired, putting him in more danger than ever before. While this gala serves as a way for him to potentially smooth things over with the Upper Clergy, asserting himself as Frater Imperator, he is also making himself vulnerable, open to attacks of all kinds.

As a favor to his predecessor, the woman who taught you everything you know, you begrudgingly agreed to provide additional security around Ministry headquarters. At first, returning to the Abbey, its halls so hauntingly familiar, reminded you of why you left in the first place: decadence, hypocrisy, lies — a message lost in a quagmire of sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll. Somehow, though, Copia and his ghouls have wormed their way into your frozen heart over these last few months. It was done before you even knew it was happening. Copia has this sort of magnetism about him, some preternatural force that makes it impossible not to be charmed. It was like this even when he was a shy, awkward cardinal. Because of this, although the Clergy wants him gone, he has the distinct advantage of a congregation that completely adores him.

The song ends, and Copia sweeps the Sister into a dip. She giggles, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek. Something in your chest pangs.

At the end of the day, you just work together. It would be foolish of you expect anything more. Still, there’s been an undeniable tension between the two of you since your return to the Ministry. You see the way he looks at you, the way he hangs on to your every word when you speak. But maybe you’re imagining it — you spend so much time around him that perhaps you’ve mistaken proximity for fondness.

You sense a familiar, fiendish presence approaching from behind. “You’re having fun,” Cirrus remarks, entering your field of vision. She has a flute of champagne in each hand and offers one to you. To maintain the illusion of normalcy you accept, taking a small sip of the bubbly, golden liquid.

“We’re on the clock,” you say, eyeing a small group of cardinals that have congregated near the refreshments table. They seem to be merely gossiping. Rain is stationed nearby, carefully observing. “No fun allowed.” The ghoul chuckles, leaning against the balcony railing on her forearms.

“I take it everything’s alright so far?” You nod, thinking back on the hours you spent painstakingly drawing sigils at various locations around the Abbey, setting up one massive alarm spell. If anything supernatural tries to get in, you’ll know. All that’s left is to be on the lookout for any natural, more human threats. You swallow down a lump in your throat, hoping your preparations will be enough.

“Try to relax, then,” Cirrus coaxes, sipping her own drink. There’s a pause. “You should go dance with him.” You feel your cheeks heat up, but keep your composure.

“I don’t have time to mess around,” you state bluntly. Your posture sags a bit. “He’s busy, anyway.” Copia is leading another Sister onto the dance floor, taking the starting position as the ghoul band strikes up another tune. You zero in on the hand resting on her hip, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. It looks like her dress doesn’t have any pockets; the probability of her concealing anything is low.

Cirrus places a clawed hand on your shoulder and gives you a playful jostle. “For you? He’ll make time.” You give her a quizzical look and she winks, straightening back up before taking her leave. “Do it!” She calls. “I’ve got good money on you two getting together!” Your mouth hangs slightly agape, watching as she descends the stairs to rejoin the party.

You take another, longer sip of your champagne, relishing in the sensation of bubbles tickling your tongue. It helps take the edge off, if only a little. You remain up on your perch for another long while. Copia eventually abandons dancing in favor of strolling through the crowd, greeting and shaking hands with various high-profile guests. It’s harder to keep track of him this way, even from your vantage point, so once your glass is empty you descend the stairs, entering the fray for yourself. To your relief, no one pays you any mind as you weave through the mass of bodies. You spot a truly nameless ghoul carrying a tray of empty glassware and flag them down, depositing your glass. You’re about to find a better place to camp out when someone taps you on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, signorina strega.” You turn and sure enough, it’s Copia. He’s holding out a hand. “May I have this dance?” Multiple pairs of eyes are now focused on you. Swallowing hard, you flush, smiling nervously. It’s a little more attention than you’d like, but you reason that within arms reach of him is the best place to be right now.

It’s completely logical, not motivated by anything else.

“Of course, Frater Imperator,” you reply, bowing your head slightly. You make it a point to use his full title in front of the guests. “I would be honored.” Gingerly, you take his hand, and he leads you to the dance floor. You pick up your pace a bit so that you’re able to whisper in his ear. “I’m not very good.” Copia gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Do not worry. Just follow my lead.” As the last few bars of the current song play, Copia guides you into the starting position, placing his right hand delicately on your hip and holding the left out for you to take. You try not to think about how, even through the leather of his gloves, his hand is so warm. Having difficulty looking him in the eye, you glance over his shoulder in the brief moment of silence between songs. You see Cirrus, Rain, and Swiss gathered by the refreshments table, watching you with shit-eating grins plastered across their faces. The air ghoul flashes you a thumbs-up and you have to resist the urge to destroy her with your mind.

“Ready?” As if on cue, the band resumes playing. You recognize the song instantly: Waltz No. 2, Shostakovich. How woefully on brand. The dance begins, Copia stepping forward with his left foot while you, mirroring him, step back with the right. It’s easy enough to follow him after that, stepping to your left as he steps right, then forwards to start all over again.

“One, two, three. One, two, three. You’re a natural.” Once you find a steady rhythm, you’re able to look up from your feet and actually start to enjoy the feeling of whirling around the room.

“How are things?” He asks, clearly trying to remain nonchalant. There are so many eyes on you, and from the crowd you sense intrigue, amusement, and a significant amount of jealously.

“Fine, so far,” you reply through a smile, trying to make it as difficult as possible for people to read your lips. Copia nods.

“Bene.” A few beats pass. “Thank you for all your hard work. I appreciate you coming back after...” He looks away for a moment. “I appreciate it.” You didn’t do it for him and he knows that, but his expression of gratitude makes heat bloom in your chest nonetheless.

“I’m glad I did,” you say without thinking. “This place is different now. Good different, because of you.” Copia smiles, the skin around the corners of his eyes crinkling. He raises his left arm and you pass under it in a spin, feeling lighter than air.

“I had hoped you would be able to enjoy yourself tonight,” he admits, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “Instead it seems you are just fretting over me.” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“It’s that ego of yours I’m worried about,” you tease. “Pretty soon there won’t be room for anyone else in this Ministry.” Both of you laugh at this.

“I had better check myself, then,” Copia says, running a hand through his mousy brown hair. “I would hate to see you leave again.” That catches you off guard and you nearly trip, but his hand finds your hip again, keeping you stable. By now, you’re certain he’s noticed the blush on your cheeks.

“Don’t worry. I’m not-“

Somewhere, an invisible thread snaps. It makes your stomach lurch, the color draining from your face. You pause, your playful expression melting away as you try to pinpoint the source of the disruption. The South Wing. It’s approaching fast. When you return to this plane Copia is looking at you with concern.

“I have to go,” you say quietly. He doesn’t have time to respond before you exit the dance floor, heading for the large double doors at the other end of the ballroom. It’s hard not to shove people out of the way as you duck and weave through the crowd. Dewdrop is at the entrance, minding his post, but as you approach it’s clear from the rigidity of his small body that he’s been waiting for you. He follows you wordlessly out into the hall. Kicking off your heels, the two of you take off in the direction of the intrusion. You internally curse your foolishness for talking yourself out of wearing sneakers, or even flats.

“It’s something nasty,” he says once you’re out of earshot of any guests. You can only nod in agreement, hoping the two of you are enough to deal with whatever this foul thing is.

You round the corner to the South Wing and stop dead in your tracks. The sight before you makes your blood run could. Charging towards you is a hulking creature, easily Mountain’s height but with Aether’s bulk. It’s clearly a humanoid figure, but its edges are poorly defined, a mist-like quality to them. Still, you observe shapes that resemble horns and a tail, and that tells you all you need to know: a rogue ghoul, not bound to this plane by a contract. As such, it’s less of a consolidated form and more of rampaging ball of fiendish energy. This information helps you narrow down the list of potential culprits exponentially.

There’s no time to dwell on that, though. The creature is headed straight for you, no doubt attracted to the smell of your human flesh. Before you can react, Dew puts himself between you and the ghoul, ready to engage. He’s strong in spite of his small size, but the odds of him defeating this massive a beast on his own, especially one this energized, are slim. You realize he’s buying you time to cast a spell, and immediately you formulate a plan in your head. It will take some time to accomplish, but if he can hold off this monstrosity for long enough, you should be able to successfully banish it back to the Pit without endangering him as well. Planting your feet, you take a deep breath, letting your eyes shut. There’s a whoosh of warm air as Dew charges the rogue ghoul. Energy begins to flow through you as you chant under your breath, crafting the spell. A metallic taste fills your mouth, the air crackling with static.

You’re about halfway through the incantation when the sound of a body hitting the floor breaks through your wall of concentration. The creature roars, forcing you to crack an eye open just in time to see it lunge at you. It’s covered in scratches and burns, but Dew is ultimately the one on the ground, desperately trying to pick himself back up. You’re only just able to side-step, the spell breaking as you focus all of your energy on surviving the next few seconds. You’re frantically backpedaling when it swipes at you, claws catching you in the side. You cry out as it tears through the flimsy red fabric of your dress, leaving three long gashes in its wake that begin bleeding immediately. Though profoundly painful it’s a superficial wound; if you had been stationary, there’s no doubt it would have disemboweled you. 

Your back hits the wall. Dew shouts your name but you just stand there, frozen. The creature is about to pin you when a large body slams into it from the side, knocking it to the ground. You immediately recognize the form as Aether, and looking in the direction from whence he came you see Cirrus, Swiss, Rain, Mountain, Sunshine, and Phantom, all approaching with teeth and claws bared. Cirrus gets to you first, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the scuffling ghouls.

“Are you-“ She finally notices you clutching your side, blood seeping into your dress. “Oh shit, are you okay?” You nod, lifting your hand to show her it’s minor. Phantom is helping Dew to his feet. He seems alright other than a few scratches, the fall appearing to have knocked the wind out of him more than anything.

“I’m fi-” Your heart nearly stops. “Is someone watching Imperator?”

“Cumulus and Aurora are with him,” she says. “They’ve got it under control.” You let out a relieved sigh, shoulders dropping. It’s only now you that you notice how much tension you’ve been holding in your body all night. Your body trembles with excess adrenaline.

Aether lets out a frustrated growl. You barely have time to look in his direction before the rogue ghoul, having slipped out of his grasp, hurls itself out of one of the long, gothic windows lining the hallway. Bits of stained glass go flying, scattering across the marble floor tiles. The creature is smart enough to recognize it’s been outnumbered. One-by-one the members of the pack leap through the broken portal, none of them too keen on letting the intruder escape. Dew tries to follow, clearly excited about the prospect of a hunt, but Cirrus shoos him away from the window.

“Go clean yourselves up,” she orders, perched on the ledge. It’s directed mostly at you. “We’ll take it from here.” With that, she jumps down, disappearing from view as the sound of the pack whooping and howling fades into the distance.

Twenty some-odd minutes and a round of healing magick later, you and Dew are sitting out on the steps of the back patio, passing a cigarette back-and-forth. By now, the rogue ghoul has most certainly been torn to ribbons. There could still be threats lurking, but for as much as you’d like to go find Copia, you’re nowhere near presentable and would prefer not to incite panic, or suspicion, among the guests. Besides, you’re hardly capable of doing anything now, your energy completely drained by the evening’s events. You only had enough juice left to stop your cuts from bleeding; anything physically strenuous would certainly reopen the wounds. For now, you’re content to enjoy the cool autumn air, knowing he’s in capable hands.

“There you are.” Speak of the Devil. You look over your shoulder and Copia is stepping out into night, flanked by Cumulus and Aurora. Clutched in one hand are your strappy red heels, and it’s only now that you realize you’re still barefoot. Dew, with a quiet groan, rises to his feet and climbs the stairs, passing Copia as he descends.

“We’re going to go take care of this one,” Cumulus says, draping an arm over the fire ghoul’s shoulder. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but for a moment you swear she winks at you. Dew tries to shrug her off with a huff, and the girls giggle. Copia nods approvingly.

“Thank you, miei cari. We will debrief in the morning.” The three ghouls turn and step back inside, leaving you and Copia on the stairs. Your heart beats a little faster with the realization that you two are alone, although you tell yourself it’s because you won’t be able to defend him in this state. There’s definitely no other reason.

“Your glass slippers, my lady.” You roll your eyes and reach out to take your shoes from Copia, but he refuses to hand them over, kneeling on the stair below you. “Allow me, per favore.”

This might as well be happening. Lifting your foot up, you grant him permission to assist you. Copia slides the first shoe back on, holding your calf with one hand. Again, you can’t help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is. 

“I’m sorry for running off,” you say, needing to break the silence. “I hope you didn’t think that-“

“Not at all. I figured that something was, eh, ‘going down.’” When he looks up he finally notices the gashes in your side. He hisses, wincing. “Ahia! That looks like it hurts.”

You wave him off. “’Tis but a scratch.” He looks like he’s going to protest, clearly upset, but instead opts to tighten the strap of your shoe before moving on to the next foot.

“What happened?” He asks, starting the process over again.

“Rogue ghoul,” you explain, looking out into the forest at the edge of the lawn. “Likely the work of Cardinal Ambrosius. He’s gotten in trouble for trying to make contracts before. Doesn’t look like he’s quite figured it out, though. I can have his head on your desk by Monday morning, if you’d like.” 

Copia laughs through his nose. “You are absolutely vicious, mia strega.”

You shrug. “Just doing my job.” Once Copia finishes with your other shoe he stands, offering you his hand.

“Walk with me?” 

You give him a hesitant look. “I don’t want to keep you from your guests.” He scoffs.

“I have had enough of those two-faced pricks for one night. A lifetime, even.” His expression softens. “But if you are not up for it, I-“

“No!” You shoot up, taking his hand. It startles him a little bit. “I’m good. Let’s go.” Copia smiles, the moonlight sparkling in his eyes. Like an obedient  lamb, you let him lead you down the rest of the stairs and across the patio to where a walkway wraps around the side of the building. He’s taking you to the gardens, it seems. Though your legs feel like jelly, the walk isn’t very long, which you’re thankful for.

The gardens aren’t really a sight to behold this time of year, but the full moon bathes everything in a mesmerizing blue glow, giving the space a dreamlike quality. The ballroom is just up another set of stairs, the music still audible where you emerge. You stop by the fountain, a marble visage of Lilith pouring water from a bottomless goblet. The water is still running, providing a little extra ambiance.

“Care to dance?” Copia asks. “We were so tragically interrupted before.”

“I…” Damn you and your nerves. You’re blushing again. “I don’t want to get blood all over you.”

Still, he persists, shrugging. “It’s a black suit.” It’s hard to say no to that face, but the McQueen jacket? Really? He gives you a pleading look and your resolve instantly crumbles.

“Alright.” It’s all but a whisper. “But go easy on me.”

You don’t wait for the next song to start, you simply get in position and go from there. It’s slower than what you danced to before, and you two end up just swaying to the rhythm rather than following any steps. That’s fine with you, your legs are still shaking, though you can’t tell if it’s from exertion or something else entirely.

“You look beautiful,” Copia says after a few measures. In that time you two have drifted closer together, only a few inches between you now. It’s hard to look him in the eyes when your face is so embarrassingly red, so you choose to stare at the ground.

“I’m a mess.” You laugh, but there’s something bitter in it as your eyes wander to your soiled dress, torn and bloody. There was a silly, naive part of you that had been thinking of Copia when you selected it for this evening. He stops swaying, a hand finding your chin and gently lifting your head. In your opinion, he’s the beautiful one, practically glowing in the moonlight. 

“Nonsense. You are the fairest of them all, cara.” You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth draw up into a slight smile.

“You’re getting your fairytales mixed up.” The two of you share a laugh before dissolving into a few moments of comfortable silence. You can tell he’s thinking about something, and he looks away, clearly nervous.

“Did you mean what you said about coming back?” The question catches you off guard for a second.

“I did,” you finally respond. “I really did. This place feels like home again.” Swallowing, you decide to take a bit of a leap. “Did you mean what you said, about me leaving?” You haven’t discussed it in a long time, but when you first took the job, the understanding was that this was only a temporary arrangement, lasting at least until Copia was able to settle into his new position. The notion pains you now. He nods.

“Yes. I-“ He chuckles. “I cannot stand the thought. Signorina strega, say that you will stay with us, with me.”

You don’t even need to think about it. “I will. Of course I will.” Copia beams, and the sight is breathtaking. There’s another pause, the air between you charged with an energy more powerful than magick. In the ballroom, the final notes of the song ring out, though you hardly notice. A bomb could go off next to you, but even that wouldn’t be enough to pull you out of this moment.

“Beautiful…” You don’t protest when he cups your flushed cheek, running his thumb across the bone. “May I kiss you?” It takes everything you have to not melt into a puddle.

“Please.”

And then his lips — Sathanas, they’re soft —  are on yours. Stars explode behind your eyes as he presses into you, the hand on your hip to pulling you in closer. His body is so warm against you; it feels so right. Your heart is racing, head spinning, as the euphoria overtakes you. 

He kisses you until you’re both out of breath. When he finally pulls away, you want to chase after him, to kiss him until your lips fall off, but then your knees buckle. Copia is just barely able to catch you, letting out a surprised little noise you can’t help but find adorable. He seems less concerned when he sees you’re grinning like an idiot.

“Alas, I have killed her!” You both laugh as he helps you regain your balance. “Why don’t we sit down?” Humming in agreement, he leads you over to the fountain, sitting you down on the edge. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you are alright?”

“Just peachy,” you say, gazing at your intertwined hands. “It’s been a long night.” Feeling bold and still a bit woozy, you bring Copia’s hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“Ah, young love.” You both jolt, heads snapping in the direction of the voice. Before you stand the glowing specters of Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator. The old man has a wistful, nostalgic look on his face, while your former teacher observes with her arms crossed. How long have they been watching you? “Just like we once were, don’t you think?” Imperator huffs.

“I sure hope not.” Her focus falls on you. The wrath in her translucent blue yes makes your blood freeze. “You think you’re good enough for my son, girl?” For a moment, you’re completely speechless.

“I-“

“Are you two serious right now,” Copia shouts. “Get out of here! Go on! Get!” He gets up from the fountain to shoo them away. Imperator gives you a pointed look before dissolving into a blue mist. Her message is clear: this isn’t over. You gulp.

Copia groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I cannot believe those two. I finally get to have my moment with you, and then they go and spoil it!” He flops back down next to you, sighing. “I am sorry, bella. I understand if-“

“Forget about it,” you say, holding up your hand to silence him. “Just kiss me, like, forever.”

Copia happily obliges.