#lethal combination honestly

[urielbestgirl]

These three have been on rotation in my fyp for a whole ass week, and kid you not, i'm ready to put my hair in a braid, and put on a yellow cardigan 😭😭😭

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Omega Knight

Male Alpha Dragon-Hybrid x Male Omega Reader CW: Noncon, stalking, reader fucked into the mud, reader fucked so hard he pisses himself, overstimulation, emotional manipulation, stockholm syndrome, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics, mating cycles/heat, two-dicked dragon-man, double penetration, knotting, biting, claiming bites, combat, medieval dystopia with shitty gender roles, praise kink Word Count: 4.9k (This is a comm for somone wishing to remain anonymous. I hope everyone enjoys it. I made it much longer than it was supposed to be.)

In a time defined by the prominence of magic, the might of kings, the power of knights, and discriminatory sex and gender views, it was extremely difficult to be an omega. They were commonly looked upon as sex objects, incubators, and the property of whoever they ended up forced to marry. Male omegas, given their rarity, were treated as particularly fragile trophies.

You were one such male omega. Not wanting their only son to be looked down upon as someone’s property or prize, your parents raised you as an alpha. They were not the highest house of nobles, but they were still very wealthy. They used their connections and power to get you the very best magically enhanced suppressants and fake alpha scent.

With a combination of careful planning, staying as far from others as you could, and suppressants you manage to become one of the knights of the realm. Despite your smaller stature, everyone thought you were an alpha given your fake scent, dedication, and skill. It took a lot of effort to push your omega body so hard, but you persevered, not willing to besmirch the honor of your house through failure. Your father helped train you, and you paid for your station with sweat and bruises.

Once you became a knight you were one of the very few who worked alone. Knights were responsible for defending the country from the more dangerous bandits and the ever present threat of highly dangerous monstrosities. As such they typically worked in groups and went on missions that could take days to weeks. But you couldn’t risk getting caught applying suppressants and fake scent while out on the road. This required you to be better trained and more skilled than anyone else could hope to be.

The result was that you were quick and lethal on every single mission, quickly racking up kills. You started out by being sent to take down bandits, as every new knight is. But that isn’t what you stayed doing for very long.

You quickly graduated to the occasional ghoul or wandering undead, though these were little more than slow moving beasts. Honestly, rarely as dangerous as a bandit.

From there you went on to put tougher foes in the ground. Chimeras, gargoyles, and the like. They were still feral but they were much more cunning and moved without the stiffness that plagued the undead.

Finally you were regularly slaying werewolves and vampires. Considered to be the deadliest of foes. The king himself had assigned you some of your tasks and awarded you medals for your courage and skill. You became renowned across the land, your name muttered far and wide for your impressive service. Though, as always, you never lingered after receiving praise or rewards. To be discovered at this point would mean enduring certain… consequences…

One day you were summoned to meet the king privately. As you passed the guards and presented your summons you weren’t nervous at all, you assumed that there was a threat to the kingdom that only you could be trusted to resolve. Probably one that was a bit too discreet to share via messenger. Something that could cause embarrassment or panic.

Your assumption was dead wrong.

When you reached the king on his throne you saw he was accompanied by one of the princes, the one who was around your age and also an omega. Prince Orleias stared at you eagerly. It was rather unnerving, though not something that was entirely foreign to you. There were many omegas that looked at you like that.

“Ah, there you are, prompt as always.”

You gave a smile and curt nod at his praise.

“Of course your grace, I would never keep you waiting.”

“I have something very important to discuss with you. You are a well decorated knight of this land and have saved hundreds of lives, if not more. You are also high born and the heir to your house name.”

He paused and looked at you and then back to his son for a moment.

“I am giving you my son’s hand in marriage. He wholeheartedly agrees.”

At this Prince Orleias crept towards you and clung to your arm, looking at you with unfettered admiration. Uh-oh.

You didn’t know what to do, if you declined it would surely enrage the king and possibly bring his ire down upon your entire family. He was not known to be an angry man, but he took note of traditions and honor as most in this society did. He wouldn’t behead you, but it would be highly offensive.

On the other hand, if you accepted, then your secret would be found out. And that deception would be received very poorly indeed.

Luckily, as if the very gods were interjecting on your behalf, a messenger came scurrying into the room to interrupt.

“Sire! Sire!”

“What’s the meaning of this intrusion!? I am discussing a very important personal matter with our top warrior here!”

“Yes sire! I beg your apologies! But we have reports of a dragon terrorizing the small town of Umbrafell!”

Your head was immediately filled with images of villages fleeing in terror as a flying beast rained down fire and fury down from above. You had to help, no one else had as good of a chance to defeat such a creature! This was also your opening to remove yourself from accepting the proposal… or at the very least buy yourself some time to think of a more permanent solution… You extricated yourself out of the clingy grip of the amorous prince.

“My king! I will go at once! It is one of the mightiest beasts in all of the world and I have the best chance to defeat it!”

You quickly dashed from the room and out of the castle and made your way home to don your armor and set out on your newly acquired quest before the king could object, not that he would have. You were obviously the best choice for the job.

Once you had your weapon, armor, and pack of supplies you set out at once on one of the knight’s horses. As grateful as you were from the reprieve that the situation had afforded you, it was still a very serious situation with the lives of many potentially in danger. You had never even fought a dragon before and it was not a fight to be taken lightly. You couldn’t even recall if any living knight had ever encountered one.

The best plan was to talk to the locals once you got to the town and ask them what exactly they had seen of the beat, find out its size, age, speed, and elemental attributes. It was probably a fire dragon, that was the most common from the old tales and songs.

The town of Umbrafell was on the southern outskirts of the kingdom. It would be a journey of a few days to get there.

You continued on at a steady pace that wasn’t too demanding of the horse but still gave you good progress on your journey. You had to stop and camp a couple nights, and stop when necessary to eat and allow your mount to rest and get hydrated, but the weather was pleasant and you made remarkable time. You arrived in Umbrafell late in the morning on the third day of your quest.

The questioning of several of the locals had you believing that the dragon was a giant beast that descended upon the villagers and their livestock, devastating entire flocks and burning to cinders entire fields. Definitely an adult dragon of fire.

The question was how would you fell such a creature? Charging in blindly was not an option. You decided drugging would be the best option. But you didn’t even know if dragons were susceptible to such things. And even if they were it probably would be far too clever to take any form of drugged bait. No, the course of action most likely to end without your smoldering corpse was to find the lair, stake it out, and wait for it to sleep before attacking.

The locals pointed you in the direction the dragon came from. A thick forested area with many hills and slopes. Not the best area to take a horse. You left your mount at the local livery stable, you paid well and knew the knightly steed would be well looked after.

You trekked through the forest for several hours, there was no telling exactly where the dragon had set up its den and you only had a general direction to search in. Whatever lodgings the dragon had found or made for itself had to be massive so you were sure that you’d know it when you came across it.

As you continued your search you cursed your omega biology. Something you did frequently. You felt a familiar tingle in your belly that was unmistakable. Your body was getting ready to enter heat. Even with magic suppressants there was just no way to completely avoid a heat. Or to hide one if someone got too close to you during one. The best modern magical marvels could do was shorten one and make it less intense.

Another reason you’d have to avoid marrying the prince. But that was something you could worry about at a later time, it would do you no good to have your mind head elsewhere while trying to locate and kill a dragon.

Little did you know that the dragon had already located you, long before you had entered its territory. The only warning you had was the swoosh of wings as he descended upon you. Your reaction was fast though and you managed to block the strike of his sharp claws with your blade. What the hell? He wasn’t a giant dragon… he was a half-breed… A race of dragon-human hybrids originally created with a magical blood pact between ancient dragons and wizards. The locals let their fear overtake them and greatly exaggerated the threat.

That didn’t mean you could take him lightly, dragon hybrids were known to be powerful and swift. Well they were rumored to be, at least. They were even less common than dragons.

A more ferocious foe you had never encountered, clawing and slashing at you with grace and brutality. The scales on his hands and arms allowed him to strike your blade with no weapon other than his relatively short claws. They were black and shimmered with each movement. They covered his well muscled arms, legs, and framed his face. To get a good strike on him you’d have to hit his face or chest.

Easier said than done. He was nearly 7ft. tall and exceptionally strong. He wasn’t making this simple for you. What was worse than that though were his mounting pheromones. As the battle went on he sweated more and more, and with no clothing other than a barbarian style fur loincloth it was easy to smell him. The musk of a normal human alpha was something you had long since learned to ignore as if it was damn near nothing, but this wasn’t like that at all. It was making you a little dizzy.

“You should just give up omega.”

His sensitive nose could pierce through your false scent. You shook your head and redoubled your focus and determination. You stared right into his fiery red eyes as you deflected a harrowing blow before tackling him with your metal clad body, opening him up to an additional attack. You slashed into his torso, causing him to recoil in pain. You pressed the advantage and stabbed him in the abdomen.

The dragon almost sliced you to ribbons before you could withdraw your weapon from him. Were he a regular man he would likely be on the ground bleeding out by now, but he was no regular man and roared as he began attacking you wildly.

Every strike was either dodged, deflected, or uselessly glanced off your armor. You got a few more solid strikes in, one on his bicep above where the scales started and another across the chest. He was breathing harder.

But for some reason so were you.

“Y-you should just give up alpha,” you sneered mocking what he had said to you earlier. Though it sounded a lot less intimidating than you had intended.

You started shaking and had to kneel down, leaning on your sword in the dirt. Pain in your stomach, a biological demand, slick rolling down your thighs beneath your armor. You were burning up. His pheromones hung thickly in the air, they had brought forth your heat much faster and harder than you had ever experienced before, completely negating any effect of the suppressants in your body.

All your experience and combat skill and taken down by a dragon’s musk and your own omega biology? It was a disgrace.

Now given the proper time to recover he used healing magic on his wounds. Combined with his already naturally enhanced healing abilities this resulted in him having only faint scars where he was previously injured. “Aww, all helpless because of your little heat darling~”

He sauntered over to you and looked down with a smug expression.

“Sorry for getting the drop on you, but you would have gotten it on me had you found me first. Anyway… now that you are a bit less feisty I think we can do a proper introduction now can’t we?”

Your heat was so strong now that you could barely focus on breathing evenly as you tried to stumble away. There was no way you could find the words to respond.

“I am Ivos, your mate. Don’t worry, I already know your name and everything about you.”

He pushed you down to your knees and kicked away your sword. At this distance his pheromones demanded your attention. He removed your helmet and started prying your armor apart plate by plate, totally scrapping the armor that had been so important to you. Soon you were in nothing but your regular clothes and then not even those as he sliced them up with his claws.

Now you were completely naked before him. The smell of his arousal was palpable. You glanced up towards him and noticed two large bulges poking out in his loincloth. He put his hand on your cheek and rubbed it with a scaled thumb. All it took was that touch for the last of your resolve to melt.

“I have been waiting for this for so long, have been following you for over a year now. Came across you taking down a horde of undead. Then watched you fight battle after battle. Scared the town because I knew it would draw you out. So strong. The only mate worthy of me. But an omega still shouldn’t be forced to live like an alpha.”

All you could do was whimper in need.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait any longer. Couldn’t hold out if I tried.”

Ivos pulled off his loincloth and revealed two large slimy cocks, proud and erect, protruding from his genital slit. He sat down right on the ground then pulled you into his lap, he grinded his dicks against your hole then stretched it with a couple fingers before lifting you up and slamming you down. Both of his cocks firmly impaled your weeping hole. You gasped in pleasure. You had never put anything inside of you to relieve your heats, you thought giving into your omega nature would be like giving in to something you shouldn’t.

He grinded slowly into you, back and forth, making you drool as you leaned against him weakly. He teased your neck with his long tongue, swirling and lapping at your sensitive gland there. Your toes flexed and writhed as he did so. This felt so good. So so good. This is where you wanted to be for the rest of eternity, on his lap skewered on both of his cocks while inhaling his smell.

The dragon wanted to take your bliss to a higher level though, he increased the speed of his thrusts into you while carefully stroking your cock with the hand he wasn’t using to caress your back. He kept at it for a while, gradually increasing the pace as he went. You came hard, panting and shaking as your seed coated his abdomen.

Over the course of the next two hours you were entirely at the mercy of his sexual desire, too overstimulated to do anything other than twitch in pleasure and drool as he broke your brain with orgasm after orgasm. You gasped as he came inside you, stretching your virgin hole to its absolute limit with not one but two girthy knots. He did what came to him instinctively, biting your neck and claiming you as his with a mark. The stimulation was so extreme you not only emptied your balls once more but also your bladder, piss getting all over the both of you.

Ivos didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact he seemed pretty pleased with having fucked you so completely that you lost control of your entire body. He licked the bite mark he had branded you with free of blood before picking you up and flying to his lair, knots still firmly inside you. He took your sword with him, figuring the blade you had come so far with may be of sentimental value to you, but he left the destroyed armor and his loincloth.

Ivos held you as tightly as he could, the cold air returning you to your senses and making you very uncomfortable. When his cocks slipped out of you and retracted back into him gobs of cum dripped out onto the forest below. He smirked at how strongly you clung to him. It wasn’t like you wanted to, but you were terrified at being up so high. You certainly wouldn’t struggle when it could mean your death if you fell.

Your new lover had made his residence in a relatively small tower abandoned beyond the hills. By the time you got there you were so sore and tired from holding on so tight, and the brutal fucking you had endured earlier, that you were in no condition to rebel. You were so obedient when he cleaned you up and fed you. It made his heart flutter, his strong mate being so good for him.

“Such a good boy~”

A grunt of defiance was all you could muster in the way of a rebellious response.

Ivos would quickly learn that you would not be staying so well behaved. You fought him at every opportunity. And he fucked you back into compliance every time he needed to. It took a long while but at least you stopped struggling at the sex. It actually felt quite amazing. And afterwards you were always so good for him.

Even so, while he admired your rebellious spirit, he wanted you to like him all the time. Not just when you were drowning in his pheromones and bouncing on his knots. He caught you the best food, took care of all your needs, brought you trinkets and gifts that would have otherwise gone to his hoard. Sometimes it seemed like you resented these gestures, you were trying so hard to not be a typical omega, and he supposed you really weren’t to some extent.

He had an idea of what to do to get you to enjoy his company more, though he could tell you were planning an escape soon. Your scent was one of someone on edge. Someone deceptive. Luckily you had no idea he could smell such a thing.

The hybrid wanted to start taking you out to hunt with him, maybe even fight some monsters. He had come to the conclusion that maybe you weren���t entirely forced to act like an alpha, maybe you enjoyed some aspects of it and he needed to ease back a bit on catering to you as if you were a princess.

But he had to get you to give up hope of escape before he could trust you going on long outings, not to mention letting you wield lethal weaponry… he didn’t even let you have access to your sword...

Ivos was spot on about you trying to get away. You had spent a couple weeks with him and were constantly thinking about potential plans for getting away. You were also studying his behaviors. Testing how deep a sleeper he was, for example. You weren’t just going to bolt at the first chance. It had to be calculated.

To make your move, you needed a rainy day. The sound of the rain would help hide the sounds of your escape. Of course, you realized that even if your armor hadn't been reduced to scrap, you still would have had to abandon it whenever you made your bid for freedom. The pang of water on metal would give you away along with the weight adding to your footprints and slowing you down. You mourned its loss, not for the first time.

You also needed rain to help mask your scent from that damned sensitive dragon nose of his.

It was grueling. Having to wait for the perfect weather when you had no idea when it would finally rain. Having to act good and behave. Keep your head down and bear the sexual and romantic harassment that were damn near unrelenting. And those damnable pheromones of his. But finally, you had what you so desperately wanted.

A glorious downpour. You couldn't ask for a better chance at escape. Dark clouds late at night. Loud booming crashes of thunder. Pounding rain that would soak you in seconds. You just prayed that it would be enough to wash away your pheromones without your suppressants.

As stealthily as you could, you made your way down the tower and slunk out into the concealment of the storm. The only thing you brought with you were the clothes on your back and your sword for protection from whatever may dwell in the night. Unknown to you, Ivos had let it “fall” from the high place where he had mounted it. Didn’t want you to get hurt by something during your escape attempt.

Once you had traversed the nearby hills and then the forest, you'd be near the village he had terrorized to bait you and could get your horse there.

But one thing at a time, you still had to clear the sloping terrain and trees before you could worry about that. You went as fast as you could go without slipping in the mud or splashing through puddles, but it was going to be a long journey.

Ivos had been asleep when you crept out, or so you thought, but you couldn't be sure how long he would remain that way.

As you continued on through the rain filled night, you began to feel gradually more confident and hopeful about your freedom. You were going to make it. You had been worried if you had been able to maintain the correct course given the darkness and disorienting thunder, but after hours of hiking there it was, the edge of the forest. And when lightning flashed, you could see the town in the distance.

You were so close! You increased your pace, spurred on by the promise of successful liberation. Then, beneath the constant patter of rain, you could have sworn you heard the swoosh of wings. Probably the wind rushing through the tre-

The next thing you knew, you were on your stomach, pushed into the mud. Your sword kicked away uselessly. Your hope was shattered. You struggled, but you might as well have been a mewling kitten.

"If you wanted to play cat and mouse, darling, all you had to do was ask."

You clambered to get away, clawing at the wet ground, as he pulled you back towards him and slashed away all your clothes before sighing laboriously.

"You had been behaving so well too... I guess I'm going to have to give you a little attitude adjustment..."

Both of his large cocks protruded at full length from his genital slit. The rain had quickly faded to a light sprinkle, and the smell of his musk had quickly grown overwhelming. The smell of his desire rolled off of him and quickly had you once more slicked up against your will.

"There's a good boy~"

Your hole twitched around his fingers as he teased you by slipping them inside. You struggled to contain a whimper as you grinded your ass against his fingers.

"Beg for it."

You tried to resist, but his scent and touch had completely taken over your brain. You didn't even have a heat to blame it on this time, and he wasn't in rough. Just his aroused musk could reduce you to a throbbing ball of need.

"Pl-please just... do it already..."

You were glad the darkness of night and the grime that clung to you covered the shame on your face.

"Good enough."

He smoothly slipped both slimy cocks right on into you.

"Damn, that's gooood."

Once more, his twin pricks pounded into you at an increasing pace, filling you far better than any one-cocked human alpha could ever hope to.

Ivos smirked at your wanton moans. They were like candy for his ears. Proof that if you ever got too far out of line he could just fuck you back into obedience. With your armor and blade, you may have been a skilled combatant, but what did it matter when he could make you so helpless?

He kept right on railing you into the mud. His cocks filled you to the brim with cum as he renewed his claiming bite on your neck. You shuddered and came as he knotted you up, the girth of both knots firmly adhering the two of you together.

But he was far from done with your little "lesson." He didn't stop until both of you had come several times, and you lay beneath him trembling and barely conscious.

When his knots went down and his cocks slipped out cum splooged out all over your ass, thighs, and legs. You were covered in mud. Calling you a mess was a serious understatement. Though you were in no state of mind to care.

"Aaaah, that was great~"

The dragon picked you up bridal style and flew the two of you back home. He ran you a bath and cleaned you of all the mud, sweat, and cum.

The next thing you knew, you were in bed with his arms wrapped firmly around you. As the events from last night came back to you, you silently cursed yourself for having been taken so easily.

It became a new pattern in your defiance of him. One carefully curated by Ivos. You'd run off and, just as you were about to escape the forest, he'd swoop right in and fuck you damn near senseless. Then he'd take you back, and you'd wake up clean and in his arms.

You tried in various weather conditions, times of day, you tried fighting, you tried plugging your nose to shield against his scent, but no matter what you did it played out exactly the same.

The final time you had ever tried to escape went much like all the others, up until you neared the tree line. You paused, eyeing the divide between the forest and grassland that would lead you down into Umberfell.

Though you could not see him, Ivos was watching you intently, ready to pounce upon you at the last possible moment. A growing sense of unease gripped you. You even started shaking. No no. You couldn't go forward... Ivos would have you on the ground and fuck you into the dirt... It was all pointless.

You turned and ran back to the dragon's tower.

Ivos smiled brightly from his hidden position in the trees. Your training was complete, you knew what would happen if you tried to do something silly like running off. Now he could, at long last, execute his idea.

It did take much longer than Ivos would have liked, but the alpha was patient and ultimately he had gotten the results he wanted. Taking you out to hunt, letting you prepare and cook your own meat half the time, taking you out for some good old fashion monster slaying, not doting on you too much outside of your heats while at the same time tending to your biological needs by supplying you with all the dick and musk you could want, had gradually made you happily in love with him.

It was much better than your old life, you came to realize that. Being allowed to do things that alphas typically did and no longer having to repress your scent and omega instincts was liberating.

What’s more, you no longer had such weighty responsibilities. The burden of the kingdom’s safety, a kingdom that would have shunned you had they known your secret, was an immense weight to shoulder. And if you had made it back what would have happened anyway? Be a hermit forced to live alone as an alpha for the rest of your life? Thrown into a life of dishonor for refusing the king’s request that you marry his son? No matter what, you would have been miserable.

Ivos had actually freed you, and you loved him deeply.

[goldfades]

That post about Y/N and Joe parenting style was so perfect. I honestly believe Joe is also super stubborn and would 100000% get in a long standoff with Hayes over him refusing to eat his vegetables. And I think Hayes, ever the mama’s boy, would probably win that battle. And Y/N would absolutely feel the need to tell Joe that Hayes definitely got those qualities from him.

oh, absolutely. joe burrow is one of the most competitive people on the planet—there is no way he’s backing down from a battle of wills, even if his opponent is a three-year-old with chubby cheeks and a mop of curls. and hayes? stubborn doesn’t even begin to cover it. the kid is relentless, especially when he knows he has you on his side. it’s that lethal combination of burrow determination and your charm—an unbeatable duo, really. so yeah, if joe tells hayes he has to eat his broccoli? that kid is digging in his heels. and joe, rather than letting it go like any normal parent, is treating it like the damn super bowl. no one is blinking. neither of them will surrender. it’s a full standoff. and of course, you, ever the observer, just sit back and watch it unfold because you know hayes is gonna win this one

it starts with a single piece of broccoli.

small, harmless, nestled between the mashed potatoes and tiny chicken nuggets on hayes’ plate. it’s nothing special—just one of the little florets you steamed earlier, cut up small so he wouldn’t even notice if he just ate the damn thing. but oh, he notices.

“no.”

joe sighs, already looking exhausted. “hayes—”

“no,” hayes repeats, shaking his head so hard his curls bounce. “don’t want it.”

“just one bite,” joe tries, tone even, logical. “you love green beans, buddy. this is the same thing.”

hayes looks offended. “it is not.”

you, sitting across from them at the kitchen table, hide your smirk behind your hand. joe shoots you a quick glare, but you just lift a shoulder, amused.

“one bite,” joe presses. “then you can have more nuggets.”

hayes, still holding his ground, frowns at his plate. he looks at the broccoli, then at his dad, then back at the broccoli. then, slowly, he crosses his arms.

joe sighs again, rubbing a hand down his face. “hayes.”

“no.”

you can feel the irritation rolling off joe in waves. the man doesn’t lose—ever. and now his toddler is serving him his first real defeat in his own damn kitchen.

“hayes.” joe’s voice drops into dad mode. that serious, no-nonsense tone he pulls out when he means business. the one that usually works.

hayes, completely unbothered, mirrors his father’s serious expression. the tension is palpable. this is no longer just about broccoli. this is a battle of principles.

you clear your throat. “hayes, baby, just one tiny—”

he turns to you, eyes wide and tragic. “mama, i can’t.”

you almost laugh. “why not?”

“it’s green.”

joe looks personally offended by the logic. “so?”

hayes stabs his fork into his mashed potatoes aggressively, like this betrayal is too much.

joe groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “this is ridiculous.”

you hum, amused. “wonder where he gets it from.”

joe glares at you again. “don’t.”

you just sip your water, smiling.

the standoff continues. minutes tick by. hayes doesn’t move. joe doesn’t budge. they’re both stubborn as hell. the only difference is, hayes has an out—he has you.

and you? well, you’re having too much fun watching joe suffer.

after a full ten minutes of absolute silence, hayes suddenly exhales deeply. then he shakes his head, slides his plate an inch away, and mutters, “i not hungry no more.”

joe throws his fork down. “are you kidding me?”

“nope.” hayes pops the ‘p’ dramatically.

you lose it. full-on, shaking laughter right there at the table. joe, unamused, shoots you a look.

“oh, come on,” he grumbles. “you’re on his side?”

“i mean.” you wipe a tear from your eye. “he is your son.”

joe scowls. “he’s your son when he’s like this.”

hayes, ever the opportunist, slides off his chair and makes a beeline for your lap. you scoop him up easily, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. he smells like baby shampoo and mashed potatoes.

“you’re ridiculous,” joe tells him flatly.

hayes just grins, curling into you. “mama don’t think so.”

joe shakes his head, defeated. then, after a long moment, he sighs. “fine.”

hayes perks up. “no broccoli?”

joe’s jaw clenches, but he nods. “no broccoli.”

hayes cheers.

you press your face into his curls to hide your laughter.

joe mutters something about never losing to a toddler again. but you both know that’s a damn lie.

[stvolanis]

Now i know you better

PAIRINGS: Alastor x Fem!Sinner!Reader

WARNINGS: ANGSTTTT, mean!Alastor, cheating w/ Lucifer, probably inaccurate time line idk, foul language,this is honestly kind of poorly written I’m sorry, manipulation, abuse, Alastor owns Readers soul, toxic relationship, possessive!Alastor, pet names, brief mention of suicide

NSFW WARNINGS: dubcon, slapping, hair pulling, choking, forced cream-pie, degradation, dacryphilia, p in v sex, knotting, humiliation, blood if you squint

SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

It wasn’t your fault that your grave was dug the moment you stepped foot into the fiery pits of hell.

It wasn’t your fault that it was dug by Mimzy when she introduced you to her dear friend, the Radio Demon who, oh so casually, casted peoples screams for hell to hear.

Mimzy, known to drag people into her messes when shit hits the fan, had deeply embedded you into an on-going war with one of the various overlords, simply by seeking a place to lay low for a few days. You didn’t expect Alastor to show up, that damned smile engraved onto his face.

And it most definitely wasn’t your fault that you laid in said grave.

He was charming, and charismatic. A lethal combination when a sense of confidence and dad-humor was thrown into the mix. The way you met wasn’t the most ideal, especially when he basically bombarded through you, inviting himself into your wrecked home to find Mimzy himself without a word.

His smile, then, seemed aggravated. He did little to hide the annoyance she had somehow caused him, and the way his voice grew in static when he spoke showed that. He was scary when you had watched his figure enlarge, his once normal, slim body now turning into a tall, beastly, and lanky figure with protruding antlers and dilated pupils.

Dread set into your core that day when he directed his wrath towards you. His tall frame stalking over you, a hand quickly shot to your throat. Your back hit against the wall as you were lifted from the ground, gasping for breaths of any air you could possibly get.

His breath was drug out and uneven as his chest moved up and down at a surprisingly slow pace. Even though he seemed to be filled of fury and unease—he had a sense of control over his calmness to an extent. Eerily, he had glided his mouth along your neck, inhaling your scent.

A harsh groan, almost as if he were in pain had slipped past his lips. It rumbled deep in his chest, and your eyes watered as your vision began to fade. Only then, did he release you and let your body fall to the floor. You held your throat gently as you finally got what you were begging for.

“Maybe you’ll listen, since sweet Mimzy won’t.” He began, his voice deep and contorted with static and brute. “You will fix the mess she created, and restore what was mine to begin with. Your soul will be mine until you have fulfilled your duty as said.” He finished.

Your mouth gaped. He had presented it to you like you had a choice in the devastating matter, but you knew better. You sobbed as your curled into a ball, and watched as he raised a hand towards your frame that wracked with sobs. “Hush now, girl. You will be under my care so long as I’ll have you.” He ushered with a grimace as he watched you wipe your nose with your wrist.

You longed to object. To scream and yell out that never in a million and one light years would you ever agree to such a thing. Your freedom was yours alone, and you liked to keep it that way. He’d have to drag you through hell and back for you to allow that to happen, yet as you took his sharp hand into yours, it was all said and done.

A bright light consumed you, and just for a moment, you thought maybe it was the light shower everyone talked about up in heaven. The bright beacon of a light so blinding that cleansed you of all your wrong-doings, took away all your pain and replaced the emptiness with a euphoric feeling of content.

Warmth spread throughout your body, and that moment of hope ended when you felt thick, heavy metal of chains cling around your throat and wrists. Alastors smile haunted you. It crept up on you in your dreams, and ate away at the only good things you had left to hold onto.

The life you once cherished, even in hell, soon faded away till it was nothing but a faint distant memory of someone you once knew that was yourself. It was replaced by an evil demon, in the form of a gentleman who disguised plots and alterier motives with wide smiles and laughs.

but again, you knew better.

The person you once were was stripped from you, and you were bare before him to bend and mold how he saw fit. And so, he did. You became his his underboss of sorts, a quiet and submissive being who did as told. They always said behind every powerful man, there was a woman. And it was you. Everyone got the good side of Alastor, yet it was you he took his frustrations out on when the day was said and done.

It was you who endured his aggressiveness when everyone was fast asleep in their bedrooms, dreaming of a better life you knew you’d never receive.

You were his lap dog, and his favorite toy to play with whenever and however he wanted to. It was unofficial, and confusing to others, but you somehow managed to find yourself in some sort of situationship with Alastor. You were his. body, mind, and soul.

You tried your best to please Alastor, constantly seeking his approval that he so generously bestowed upon others. You chased your tail around, and ran in laps, jumping through hoops just to earn a small nod in approval for him.

He wasn’t always bad. He cared for you, in his own fucked up way. He cared in way that he would never let something bad happen to you, and would protect you at all costs. You were his delicate little flower, how could he ever allow anyone who isn’t him to inflict any kind of harm onto you? He’s a bitch, but to an extent.

He loved you, yes, but only when he was in the mood to love you. When he loved you, he’d hold you close to him when you were perched on his lap in the hotel lounge. He’d whisper sweet nothings to you as he kissed along your neck, making giggles vibrate through your chest. He’d run his fingers through your hair till you fell asleep against him at night after a particularly hard day.

And on days when he knew he went to far, his classic water works he only had in store for you would come into play. He couldn’t bare his favorite toy hating him. He didn’t know how to deal with the colder shoulder and short-answer responses from you. It aggravated him that only you could get under his skin without doing much, so when you were heavily upset, only then would he drop down to his knees and kiss the inside of your thighs lovingly.

Tears would align his eyes, but his smile never once wavering, and beg for your forgiveness. He’d tell you how much he loved you as he rubbed your sensitive bud, and wash away your worries with so many orgasms, you forgot why you were mad at him in the first place.

Yes, he owned your soul and tended to be abusive, but he wasn’t heartless.

He’d tell you he’s sorry, and that he’d never hurt you again. It’s always a lie, and each time you allowed yourself to stupidly believe it.

But the truth was, you didn’t know what else to do. You hated to admit it, but you were nothing without him. You spent so long shaping yourself into the person he wanted and needed you to be, that you forgot how to be yourself. You forgot what your previous hobbies were, or what else made you happy besides him. Your world revolves around him, and without him, it felt like your world was coming to an exaggerated end.

So, you put up with it. Each and every time.

It wasn’t till today, the day of Charlie’s fathers arrival to the grand hotel Alastor managed to put together and run, that you’d ever seen him so genuinely with any sort of nerves.

The moment Lucifer walked in, in all his glory, Alastors personality took a flip. He went toe to toe with the ruler of Hell himself, all because he was afraid of someone who he knew had more power than him. But Alastor wasn’t a weak man, not at all, and that’s why he made it his mission to piss off Lucifer as much as he could.

You’d never seen him this way before. With you? Yes, but with other people? Never. He was cunning and every word he spat at Lucifer dripped with malice and confidence. Alastor knew he couldn’t beat him with power, so he hit him where he knew it would hurt. His family. Specifically, the only one he had left.

What Alastor didn’t expect, was for Lucifer to become completely and utterly smitten with you. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s been all smiles and giggles with you.

He listened when you talked, even the little small words or sentences no one cared to listen to. His lips against the top part of your hand when you first met was the only thing that circled your mind for days. His lips were plush and warm, soft and tender. It was a contrast to the kisses Alastor left you of pity and forgiveness.

He was sweet, and undeniably handsome. He made you feel ways you’d never felt before. He made you feel like you had a choice. A voice that wouldn’t be spoken over and genuinely listened to. He was charismatic, in a way like Alastor, but it was real. His smiles were real, as were the sweet nothings he said to you.

For weeks, you snuck around with Lucifer. At night, when Alastor was fast asleep, you’d sneak out from under his watchful arm and find your way to Lucifers room. His arms were more welcoming, and warm. His kisses sweeter than honey and his love as gold and bright as they come.

His voice was soft, and vibrant as he hummed against your ear. The fingers that raked through your hair were gentle and soothing, calmed you to your slumbers that comforted you through the night. His smell was intoxicating; cider and musk, like an orchid full of ripe apples. The two rosey spots on his cheek shined in hue when you’d enter the room.

I didn’t take long for Alastor to notice. He want a dumb and oblivious man. He was a ruthless overlord who couldn’t afford to look past the little things. He noticed the stares that the two of you sent when in a room full of people. The lingering touches no one else noticed when you brushed passed each other.

And most of all, they way you’d slip from his grasp in the dark of the night like he was stupid.

He knew, of course. He knew the whole time. And he let you let yourself believe that there was any other choice besides him. He allowed you, from the goodness of his heart, to feel a speck of the freedom you longed for. He let you grasp it and cradle it with all your might, just to draw you back in by the chains that shackled you to him for eternity.

He liked knowing that he controlled you. It fueled the god complex he had, knowing that no matter what you tried to do, you’d always be his. His to love, his to fuck, his to torment.

He mocked you for it, too. Rubbing it in your face that you were chained to him for as long as you’d live in hell. Suicide crossed your mind a few times, the only way you saw yourself out of it—yet, you knew that no matter what life you had next, you’d still always belong to him in some way, shape, or form.

You should’ve known better. Should’ve known that you could never be happy. Should’ve known that Alastor knew the whole time. Yet you were naive enough to think you were smart enough to go behind his back with a person he detested the most. The one person who could easily kill him with a blink of an eye.

Alastor would never say it out loud, because he knew deep down that he would never win against Lucifer. So, he did what he does best, and he took it out on you.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to be any different from any of the other nights you left Alastors bedroom.

You lay in another man’s arms, his chest rising and falling beneath you as soft breaths slipped past his pale lips. Lucifer looked especially beautiful like this. His white skin glistening in the dull lighting of the room, and his streaky blonde hair ran through messily against the plush pillow.

You wished you could stay in this very moment forever. You’d rather spend an eternity admiring Lucifer for all his greatness, than suffering in Alastors darkness miserably.

You never told Lucifer about the way Alastor treated you behind closed doors. You knew that if you did, Alastor would be dead without a second thought. It crossed your mind a few times, obviously. How could it not? It was your only way out. The only thing that stopped you was the fact that Alastor wasn’t always like this.

He wasn’t always a bad person towards you. In the beginning, he tried to make you as comfortable as possible. He made you happy, and lively. His presence didn’t make you want to cower away in a corner, and his stare made you flush red, as bright as the color of his hair.

After all he’s put you through, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt shoot through you each time you looked back at Alastor asleep in your shared bed. He never cheated on you. The one of many things he’s never done, yet here you were, every so happily cheating on him. You felt like a two-timing snake, and you knew if he found out that he’d feel betrayed.

With that thought, you slipped from under Lucifer’s heavy arm, watching with soft eyes as he muttered under his breath at the loss of your warmth against him. You kissed his cheek and whispered a goodbye as you exited his room, softly shutting the door behind you. Your finger glided along the walls of the hallway, all the way till you found yourself outside of Alastors room.

You inhaled deeply, reaching for the doorknob, twisting it ever so slowly. Your entered the dark abyss of the room, shutting the door softly behind you with a wince as it creaked lightly. Damned this old ass building.

What you didn’t expect, was for Alastor to press against you from behind.

His breathing was uneven, and sharp as his chest still moved up and down slowly. You froze. You felt your dead heart stop as if you were alive. It seemed like oxygen didn’t exist anymore as you gaped, jaw slightly fallen slack as your eyes lined with tears. Your body shook as his hand traveled to the bed of your throat, craning your neck back to meet his eyes painfully.

“A-Alastor—” you gaped. He clicked his tongue. “Hm, silly girl. You really thought I was unaware of your whore-ish activities?” He chuckled out, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “Wait, please—” you began, but you didn’t get a chance to think of what to say next as he slammed your back onto the bed.

You tried desperately to crawl away from him, but within a second, chains tied you down to the bed frame. You wracked with sobs and please of despair. He stood silently for a moment, watching the way you crumbled so easily without him even having to really do anything.

“How dare you.” He hissed out after a moment. Climbing on top of your tense frame, he pinched your cheeks together and watched as tears ran down your cheeks pathetically. “I give you everything you could possibly need. I make sure you’re alive with a roof over your head and out of the clutches of hells streets, and this is how you repay me? By sleeping around with men?” He growled through his sharp teeth.

His smile was formed still, but more into a scowl of displeasure. His antlers were grown and prominent as he began to shift to his demon form that you hadn’t seen since the first time youd met him that fateful day. He was like a rabid animal, drool slipping through the cracks of his jagged teeth as his body became large and monstrous.

This was it. This how your soul would finally be put to rest. By the claws and bared teeth of a monster with the facade of a charming, hotel manager. Not the way you’d want to go out, but hey, at least your were gonna get out of it, right?

Or so you thought.

His claws, sharp as knives tore through your shirt, ripping it off of your figure and discarded onto the floor. Your white lace bra on display in front of him. Your pajama pants adorned with cheesy pandas torn to shreds alongside your favorite sleeping shirt. But all you could think about was the abnormally large bulge hard and prominent against your inner thigh.

God, you hated yourself. You danced along the line of lust, fear, and hatred. Hatred for him, mostly. You hated that you loved Lucifer—yet your body yearned to be used and played with at the hands of Alastor.

The sweet sex, praises and butterfly kisses Lucifer showered you was amazing, but this—this was different. The way Alastor fucked you was different. Yes, he was rough and fucked hard—but this was his way of showing you that he loved you. It was peculiar, to say the least. A man so easily able to use his words to fluster anyone couldn’t look you in the eye to tell you that he loved you.

So he fucked you like he hated you. But you knew what he meant.

His finger hooked under the middle of your bra, effectively slicing upwards to cut it in half. Your breasts sprang free, and your nipples hardened under the tense, cold air. You squirmed as his breath fanned against them, his long tongue shooting out to lick against them tenderly.

He played tricks on you. It was his favorite game. Giving you false hope. Dangling things he knew you longed for in front of you, only to yank it right back. Killing every last good thing you had left till you had absolutely nothing but him.

So you should’ve known better than to trust his soft tongue kitten licking your nipple. His sharp teeth bit down—hard enough to draw specks of blood around it. You yelped out in pain as your eyes lined with fresh tears waiting to be spilled over. The pain was dreadful, but god, did it feel good.

Alastors thumb trailed to lower, tracing down to your stomach till he reached your cotton panties, dampened with your arousal. “What a slut. Getting off on this. You should be ashamed of yourself, darling.” He mocked out with a cunning smile. He didn’t think twice before ripping your panties off.

He fumbled for second with his pants, unzipping them before letting them reach low enough just to pull his cock out. “Now, I’m gonna fuck this cunt till I’ve had enough, and after that, you’re going to go into the small-dicked-duck fanatics room with my cum dripping down your thighs and tell him just how good I fucked you.” He growled out, his hand finding it’s way back to your throat, squeezing tightly as he lined himself to your entrance.

“Alastor, please just listen—i” his cock bullied is way into you. Long, and thick. 9 inches of pure, heavy meat sat snugly inside of you, playing with your insides. He was perfectly trimmed, and his balls heavy balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each agonizingly perfect thrust he delivered into you.

“Oh, oh fuck!” You moaned out, head thrown back as your hand clenched onto the chains that bound you to your bed post. “Tight little pussy. Tell me, does he fuck you like this, baby?” He panted out as he watched the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He always thought you were the prettiest like this. Underneath him, writhing in pleasure, cock drunk and hungry for him. The only time you didn’t resent him. The only time you wanted him. He cherished this, not that he would ever say it out loud.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He said, slapping the side of your face harshly, leaving a painful sting behind. You whimpered at the familiar impact. “No, Alastor!” You all but screamed out as his cock kissed your cervix.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudly, and the smell of hot sex was in the air. A distinctive, vile smell. Your body was lined with sweat, as was his, and your breasts bounced each time his hips met flush against your ass. All you could think about was him.

He consumed your thoughts, plaguing your mind. You couldn’t escape him. And as of right now, you weren’t sure you even really wanted to all along.

Some sick part of you enjoyed this relationship you were in. The part that liked to be put in your place, and told what to do in return for praises of affirmations. A relationship that never got boring, and always kept you on your toes no matter what. Traumatic? Definitely. Toxic? 100%. But, this is what you had to endure. The least you could to was learn to like and deal with it.

You clenched down tightly onto him as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly, his dick hitting every right spot, including the little nerve of your g-spot inside of you. The angle he had your hips positioned in hit it better, and he could tell you were close when your cunt began to pulse around him.

“Please, please, I’m gonna cum!” You babbled on and on, drunk on the feeling of him inside of you. He chuckled as he pulled your head up by the root of your hair, just enough to have your lips crashing down onto his. “Fucked you stupid, honey, i know.” He cooed out against your lips.

He tasted bitter. Like whiskey and old cigars, mixed with a strange tea refreshment. It was an odd combination, but one that suited him indefinitely. His tongue swirled and glided against yours as they fought for dominance in a sloppy, and surprisingly passionate kiss. One that said what he didn’t have to out loud. ‘You’re mine’. He won the fight for dominance, and he sloppily suckled your tongue into his mouth.

The kiss was nasty, sloppy with saliva dripping down your chin and a few cuts on your lip from his sharp teeth clashing against them, but it was the least of your concerns as he rested his forehead against yours, nearing his end.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy up. Nice and full so everyone will know in dues time just who the fuck you belong to.” He growled out through clenched teeth. You shook your head back and forth, your eyes widening with fear. “No, don’t! Please don’t!” You begged, on and on, but to no avail.

His thrusts became harsher, and more demanding. Chasing his high aimlessly as you begged and moaned out his name underneath him. It was then that you felt it. His cock balls deep when you felt it began to swell up inside of you.

You gasped in shock as you were stretched painfully to your limit, the bulge in your lower stomach large and prominent as he pressed against it, triggering your orgasm. Your juices flushed out of you and all over his lower abdomen, and he groaned at the sight. You clenched down onto him impossibly tighter and he felt like he was gonna lose his mind.

“Pull out. Please pull out.” You desperately tried to reason with him, but he didn’t care as he sat snug inside of you, his knot finally emptying inside of you. It was warm, and you could feel it drip down your ass when his cock finally fell flaccid and limp, slowly pulling out of you.

“Maybe now, you’ll learn your lesson. You must be a fool to think that anyone could ever love you like i do.” He said, shaking his head. He bit his lip with a satisfied smile as he watched his mounds of cum pour out of you. “Milked my cock so well.” Was the only praise that slipped past his lips the rest of the night.

He didn’t allow you to clean yourself, only letting you thrown on a pair of panties from the drawer in his bedroom. Your inner thighs were slick and sticky with his warm, salty cum. “Run along now, dear. Come back when you’re finished.” He said in a singing tone, knowingly.

A flame rose in your core of embarrassment as you waddled out of the room, the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs growing by the second. It was humiliating, doing the walk of shame down the hallway, all the way to your now past lovers room.

A soft knock was laid on his door, and after a silent, dreaded minute of standing there, his door fell open. There you stood, in nothing but panties. Bite marks around your nipples and your neck prominent with a lingering bruise from the grip he held on your neck. His eyes trailed down to the cum slick between your plush thighs.

His eyes widened.

“The fuck happened to you?”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[etherealily]

ᴘᴇᴛᴛʏ // ɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙꜱ

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader.

Warnings : Cussing. Slight NSFW (non-explicit bc it's me). Long but (hopefully) worth it.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Revenge is a dish best served cold-hearted.

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Nate's never really been one for one night stands. Yeah, he knows that he seems like the type, but honestly, he was deathly scared of STDs and shit, and plus, he worried that if he didn't stay with the girl and give her a relationship, she might say some bullshit around about how bad he was in bed. It was pathetic, he knew it, but that's a really hard thing to discredit, because what would he even do? Fuck the entire female population in the district to prove her wrong?

That being said, he was only a man, at the end of the day. Alcohol and women, bro, lethal fucking combination.

So, when his hand finally stopped pressing the side of your face down into the pillow and he finally pulled out, his dread came faster than he did.

He flopped down onto the bed beside you, attempting to catch his breath while curiously watching your back still facing him. "You okay?" He seemed more confused than concerned. Like his dick was the fucking godfather of all dicks, and there was no reason for you not to be anything short of grateful.

You seemed to jerk out of your thoughts then, and turned to him, bunching the sheets up to your chest. "Yeah, no, yeah.", you replied, eyebrows twitching as if unsure whether they wanted to frown or furrow.

"What is it?", he asked, narrowing his eyes as he tossed you your clothes.

The corners of your lips turned down, and you shook your head. "Nothing."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?", he asked, sitting up and stretching for a single, peaceful moment, before he stalked over to his bathroom.

"Like what?"

He scoffed from inside, splashing water from the running tap onto his eyes, before glaring at himself in the mirror. "Like I just hit the second tower.", he called.

You didn't respond as he cleaned himself up, and he rolled his eyes. "What, too dark for you?"

Nate pulled on a fresh pair of boxers after he was done, and stuck his head out the door, gesturing that it was your turn. He stopped you as you passed by him, though, tilting his head down at you. "Did you not come?"

Fuck. You'd been under the impression that he was too drunk to have noticed that look on your face, and now he was just spot-on with the observation? "No, I just, uh..." Think, fuck! "...I feel like I recognize you, from somewhere.", you lied.

He let go of your elbow, letting you go in and clean yourself up as he settled on the edge of his bed, unlocking his phone. "From where?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, could he not just shut up? Alright, wait. You'd seen dumbbells in his room, meaning he was a gym-guy. So the gym would be a safe option to say, but then again, he had all the shit in his room, why would he pay for a membership? "Football.", you blurted out.

Silence. "Oh, yeah, I'm QB for East Highland."

Sheer, dumb luck. God couldn't help you out in exams, but would have your back with lying to a lousy hookup? Priorities, man, come on.

"Right, probably there."

"So, you from around here, then? Like, what's the deal? Haven't seen you before at my games."

You really wanted to stay in the fucking bathroom, because how fucking awkward was this shit gonna be when you got out? Walk of shame, questions from your Aunt Leslie, shit.

"No, I live in New York. I'm just visiting my cousins and my aunt for Christmas."

He leaned back against his headboard, his eyes illuminated by his phone screen as he typed your name into Instagram. How the hell did you have so many mutuals with him? "Oh. Cool.", he called, cursing under his breath. Of course your fucking profile was private. You had hardass written all over you.

You took a deep breath. It didn't fucking matter, you were drunk. Yeah. You were drunk, you didn't have sex, you were just drunk and roaming the streets. 'Sorry, Aunt L, I just didn't know my limits. Yeah, sorry. I won't do it again.' Good. Alibi prepped.

Biting your hair tie from your wrist and tugging it up to tie your hair, you were just about ready to— no.

A fucking hickey?! Was he a fucking dumbass?

You practically broke the door handle, with how aggressive you were, and you walked out the bathroom to the sweet release of AC. At least he wasn't that much of a dumbass.

He shut his phone off, scratching at his jaw and scrambling for small talk before the dreaded post-coital analysis that was sure to come. "So, who's your cousin?"

With his luck, it'd be Maddy.

"Uh, Rue and Gia Bennett, you know them?"

Whoa. Whoa, whoa, scratch that, his luck was fucking amazing tonight.

A smirk. A shift in the sheets, and he was entirely facing you. "Yeah?"

"You know her?"

"Small town."

You nodded, your fingers picking at the edge of your phonecase. "You close?"

"No."

Once more, you replied with a nod, switching on your phone. Okay, curfew was twelve for you, eleven for Rue, it was ten forty-five. So, you had ten minutes to get back to the party ��� wait, why had you even fucking left? Like you couldn't have hooked up at the party? God, alcohol should be banned around you, you'd just followed some guy back to his house to hook up, with nothing but a fucking name, and you'd just told him you weren't from here, who your family was— fuck! You were a danger to yourself with alcohol.

"How far is your house from the party?"

He raised a brow. "Like, two or three blocks."

Huh.

"Why?"

"I need to get back, pick up my cousin, take her home."

"Rue.", he said, maybe as a giddy little reminder to himself.

"Yeah, Rue. I can't let her stay unsupervised at a party. She's a recov—"

"Yeah, a recovering addict, I know. We all do. She OD'd, we thought she RIP'd."

"So did I. Scary."

He clicked his tongue, nodding offhandedly. "Uh-huh, yup. Tragic. Hey, did you actually come?"

"Come where?"

He raised a brow.

"Oh. Uh—"

"Don't lie to me. I'm not a jackass who doesn't know how to make a girl come."

Beg to differ.

"No, you know what, man, it's alright, I really gotta be—"

"We have to remedy that.", he declared, with a barely controlled chuckle of absolute exuberance. "So you can have at least one win tonight before you go babysit Cousin.", he grinned, leaning over to kiss at your forehead, your nose, cheek, and then, of course, your lips. "Don't we?", he murmured, covering your mouth as you attempted to protest. "Yeah, we do.", he continued, kissing down your chest, now, fingers skimming up your dress once again as his mouth lowered. But his eyes stayed on yours, a sort of quiet challenge in them. Amusement, too, if you squinted.

"You're so fucking hot.", he muttered, his teeth leaving another fucking hickey (you were about to stab him) on your inner thigh now. "Sorry I didn't make you come before. Happens sometimes, when I'm drunk. Let me make up for it."

And, to his credit, this time he actually did.

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Fuck. Fuck. "Rue? Rue? Fuck, talk to me, Rue!"

"You're really fucking late.", she slurred.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that— don't pick up! It's your mom, neither of us wants her to hear you like this."

"Is that a hickey?"

"Burned myself on the hair iron.", you replied, adjusting the rearview to focus your gaze on her twitching body.

"Yeah, sure.", she groaned out, shifting around in the backseat as though she were in pain.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I've greened out before, it's not a big— fuck, pull over, pull over, pull over, pull FUCKING over, Y/N!"

The car screeched to a halt when you did, turning to watch her bang open the door to throw up into a nearby trashcan. You briefly wondered if this particular trashcan and her were acquainted, if she actually had greened out a lot of times before this.

"Why did you even smoke the weed?! You said you were just drinking!"

She gripped the bench near the trash can for a moment, before shaking her head and leaping back to retch again. You rolled your head back onto the headrest, running a hand over your jaw. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Rue? Rue, you okay back there?" You couldn't hide the fucking tremble in your voice, and she seemed to notice it, too.

"Yeah, fuck you, man, c'mon, I'm not a baby, I told you, I've greened out before. Drive."

"What if your mother drug-tests you?"

"She won't. Hide that "flat-iron-burn" from her and she'll think you were with me the whole time. Okay? I— wait, wait."

This was not the fucking time for her to be looking at her motherfucking phone.

"Scratch that alibi. Fuck that whole shit, tell her I was with Ali."

"Who the fuck is Ali?"

"My sponsor. She knows who he is. Just tell her he texted and we're fine, and drop me off at this, like diner or whatever. I'll tell you the way."

"Rue, it's Christmas Eve, you're not seriously gonna spend it without us, are you?"

"It's not even real fucking Christmas! Jesus!"

Silence. You grabbed the phone from her, placing it on the dashboard and letting the Maps do the talking for the rest of the drive.

Fuck this night.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Fuck. Fuck. He was trying to zoom into your profile picture, not fucking request you like a goddamn loser! He'd never requested anyone in his life, save for Maddy, after she removed him that one time. He groaned, running his hands over his face. Yeah, sure he could have un-requested, but shit, he'd show up in the 'people you might know' list, anyway, and the notification might have already— and there it was. You'd accepted. Fucking great.

You followed him, as well. Actually great.

Almost greedily, he clicked on the one post you had.

He scoffed, practically throwing his phone on the bed.

It's always the bitches who post sunsets that you can't get out of your head.

Fine. Whatever. He wasn't interested in your bullshit sunset post and two story highlights full of music or your friends (all girls, good), anyway. He was interested in how you had so many mutuals with him, seriously. Thankfully, with the exception of Lexi Howard (he figured that was a through-Rue-friendship), there weren't any other liabilities. He liked this.

He didn't, however, like the amount of his teammates who sat in that Mutuals tab. Did you just go through football players like fucking tissues? Did he just get a second-hand dicking down?

Okay. Backing up. He didn't know anything about you, for real, he had to chill out.

A little more sleuthing, and he figured it out. Daughter of a college scout. No fucking wonder. The guys on his team were shameless. Wasn't the college he wanted, but hey, he'd use the excuse of a career to stay in your followers list.

What did you fucking think about him? He's sure Rue must have got into your head about him — he doubts you've even told her, though.

Either way, the urge to find out was getting stronger.

Since his break up with Maddy at the winter formal, he really had been on one. He wanted to fuck some shit up, do something that didn't revolve fixing shit that was broken ; relationship, family, reputation. He was sick of it.

And hence.

Hey.

??

Nate from Christmas Eve.

Oh, hi.

Mall 2morrow? U + me?

Idk. Idk u that well.

Okay, fair. You were sober, and being rational, not wanting to go out with some guy just because you'd hooked up with him once. Smart. He didn't like you sober, though.

Public place. I'll leave you alone the second you tell me. Promise.

Idk man.

I'll buy u an Xmas/New Year's gift.

For what?

I can't stop thinking about you. I'll be there @ 1 if u change ur mind.

You had hoped with all your heart that you wouldn't run into him when you were dropping Gia off at the mall to hang with her friends, but of course, the universe thought your life was a big fucking joke.

So, you were grabbing an iced coffee to go, and there the fuck he was.

"Look who made it. The path to every girl's heart is a gift, I guess."

Did he think leaning against the counter like a cheap James Dean knockoff was going to have you rushing to get in bed with him again?

"I was doing something else. I'm not here for your 'Christmas-slash-New Year's gift'. "

"Yeah, dropping baby Bennett off, I know, I saw. Why'd you stay, though?"

"What, I'm not allowed to stay anywhere now?"

"Yeah, you are."

A pause as he inconspiciously swatted your hand away, offering the barista his card.

"But staying here with me? That's risky, isn't it?"

"Why?"

Huh. So you hadn't told Rue. Good to know.

He shrugged, taking the card back. "'Cause you know I'm about to spoil you fucking rotten.", he grinned, waving the card in front of your face.

"Yeah.", you scoffed, handing him the money you were supposed to pay the barista before you collected your iced coffee. "No thanks."

He pouted. "Yo. I'm being for real. I had a really good time. And I'm sure you did, too."

You opened your mouth to protest, and probably bring up his worst moment, so he shut you up by wrapping an arm around your shoulder and steering you out of the store. "The second time, at least. Cut me some slack, I was drunk."

"That is a comfort to no one but you."

He glared. "I'm not that bad in bed."

"I'll see you around, Nate."

A scoff. A very publicly inappropriate kiss.

And then, he's towing you to the mall restrooms.

════════════════════════════════════════════

TWO DAYS LATER.

You could never for the life of you understand why there had to be so many different types of fucking laundry detergent, and evidently, neither could Rue. But, then again. Rue wasn't quite there, to particularly understand it.

A low, mildly-surprised whistle, and both of you turned.

Nate pretended to busy himself and act like he was admiring the bottle of alcohol he was turning around meticulously in his hand, but you knew better.

"Fucking prick."

"What? Who?"

"The guy across the store who just pretended he didn't whistle at your ass. That guy."

"Who is he?"

"Nate Jacobs. Jock, so you know, that's the prick part."

"What? You're gonna give me the big-sister talk and warn me to stay away from him 'cause he's bad news?", you scoffed, allowing her to lead you the fuck away from this liability of a quarterback, to where a new array of indistinguishable laundry detergents sat.

"You just gave yourself that talk. Did she say Ultra Oxi or Ultra Matic?", she asked, screwing open the lid to take a sneaky whiff.

"What's the difference?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? Okay, you know what? You ask her, and I'll go get Gia's soda and the baking powder for her birthday cake, yeah?"

You nodded, reaching into your pocket for your phone and looking down at it, rubbing the nape of your neck as you tried to get some signal.

"'Scuse me." A whisper. A lewd, firm squeeze of your waist (so tight it was impossible that no one else had noticed) as he moved behind you, pressing his chest against your spine.

You froze, and you were pretty sure he smirked.

Matter-of-factly, he flicked his index finger twice at the label "Ultra Oxi", before winking over his shoulder. "Make good choices, alright? You've been on a roll recently."

Fuck. Fuck. He'd remembered to taunt you, with your apparently Nate-Jacobs-hating cousin right there.

You moved back to Rue, a couple aisles over, your eyes glazed over.

Did you just get... groped? The aisles were small, maybe he really did need to hold you to move past you?

"I'm wingin' it.", you mutter.

She snorted. "Brave. But I was serious, that guy? He's a headcase." She nodded over to Nate again, who was across the store at the counter, reaching into his pocket to produce an ID from his wallet, presumably.

She said it like it's gossip, common sense, and a Pentagon-level secret all at the same time, and you're not sure how she's managing to achieve that.

"Why?"

"Where do I fucking start? He strangled his girlfriend."

"He fucking what?!"

The detergent nearly dropped from your hand, and she got a funny look on her face, like you were doing a little too much. "Yeah. Maddy Perez. I mean, she's fine, and the case was dropped 'cause someone else confessed, and there was an eyewitness, but h—"

"Rue!", you hissed. "Fuck, that's some mad unreliable storytelling, you know that? Fuck, I thought he did it."

"He did! He got someone to cover up for him, a whole fuckin' alibi, and shit.", she shrugged, giving the Chosen Baking Powder a triumphant, confirmatory tap. There was more she wasn't saying, and you were gonna prod it out of her.

"If the police accepted it, it's probably not without investigation.", you tried, but she just scoffed.

"He catfished my friend."

Uh-oh. It really must be bad if he got Rue to mention Train-Girl.

Sometimes, you wondered whether she was on more than just weed.

You thought this, then mentally shook it off, like... this was Rue you were talking about. Why would she even fucking lie to you?

She sniffed. "And then he blackmailed Jules with the nudes she sent him to testify as an eyewitness."

Jules? Oh, Jules. Train-Girl, aka, Jules.

"He's a fucking plague. I swear, I should get fucking gun and just go apeshit on his psycho ass."

'That won't bring Jules back', you don't say.

"Violent.", you remarked.

"Yeah, he is."

════════════════════════════════════════════

TWO DAYS LATER.

"Where the fuck were you, Rue?! You scared me half to fucking death!"

"I was at... the mall.", she groans from the passenger seat. You slap her face to bring her back a couple times, but it doesn't seem like it's fent that she's on. Thankfully.

"The mall or behind it with the trapper-junkies?", you mutter, slamming your hand down on the horn and flipping the guy off as you passed by him. "Stopping in the middle of the fucking road?! Are you fucking brainless?!"

Rue giggles from next to you and you're sure you're two seconds away from an aneurysm. "What's so fucking funny, Rue?! You're high on god-knows-what! You know how fucking dangerous that is?!"

"Who keeps texting you? It's like ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-"

You rap your fingers along the steering wheel. "Focus, Rue, fuck! How long does it take to wear off?"

"Like... five hours."

"FIVE HOURS?! We have lunch with our family, Rue, fuck! What are you gonna do?"

She continues giggling.

"Fuck, okay, uh...", you mumble, pressing a couple buttons on the car screen.

"Hello?"

"Lexi, I need you to do me a huge favour. Uh... can you man the phones at your place? If my aunt calls just say we're at lunch with you?"

"Uh, is everything o—"

"Yeah, yeah, just— please just do it, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

"Thanks."

You shut the phone off before glaring at her, still giggling next to you. "You fucking happy? Everyone doing your fucking dirty work to cover for your ass?!"

"Please, this is just you relapsing on your stupid I'm-the-nice-sweet-cousin bullshit! You probably hope I flatline so you have a sob story to tell."

"What? I do care, Rue!"

"I thought you grew out of your obsessed-with-me-all-the-fucking-time-phase from when you were six! I don't fucking like you, and really, neither do Mom or Gia! They just need a babysitter for me! Fuck, you can't be related to people without them clinging onto you!"

You glare at her. Oh, fuck her.

"You mean that? Or are you just high?"

"High words are sober thoughts, lil' sis. Gimme a fucking break."

Silence.

"Alright, get the fuck out. Get the fuck out. Go call your fucking sponsor. Go."

"You're such a baby!"

You scoff, driving away for a moment before you actually called Ali. You're not that cruel. "Hello, um, Rue's—"

"Yeah, I know. I saw. I was driving by. I got her, she's in my car right now."

"Thank you."

You groan, your forehead on the steering wheel. You really shouldn't be this sensitive, the world will eat you up alive, but when someone you look up to— fuck! She was right, who the fuck keeps texting you?

Picking up your phone, you squint to look at whatever fucking notifications you were receiving, that were apparently life threatening, seeing their frequency.

Nate.

🔗?

You're about to - about to - just block him and throw your phone out the car with how frustrated you are, but then an evil thought permeates through your brain.

Evil, and petty.

Rue thinks you're constantly seeking her approval? Clinging onto her?

Oh, you'll be clinging onto her worst enemy's dick, alright.

════════════════════════════════════════════

The ding comes as Nate pants in your ear for what's the third time in this whole week, you might have a serious problem with how far you take your pettiness, but that's a conversation for another time , and his arm immediately shoots out to pin your wrist to the bed, his other hand's grip faltering on your calf as it slips from his hip. "No, no. Don't even think about it.", he grumbles, trying to shut you up with speed instead of words.

A follow-up ding.

"It could be Rue.", you reason, and he shakes his head, covering your mouth as he keeps going.

"Come on, Nate.", you mumble out from beneath his palm.

He huffs, but finally relents, continuing his kissing at your shoulder. "Rue's such a fucking cockblock, I swear.", he grumbles against your skin, among other things, most of which you don't hear thanks to your focus on your screen.

Yo

Pick up

It's about Rue

Unknown number.

"Hey, hey— one sec, man, I need to make a phone call."

"Are you fucking kidding me?", he scoffs, rolling off you to let you sit up and bunch the covers over your chest with one hand as you type out a 'K'.

A phone call almost instantaneously.

You pick up immediately, pressing the phone desperately to your ear. "Hello?"

"Yo, uh, I'm Fezco, you don't know me. Look, your cousin's been — I don't even know where, but she's coming here in about a half hour, and you need to come pick her up right now, alright? I'm not shitting you."

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know, man, she just told me she's on her way, I don't— I don't know. You're her emergency number, I think? She said sm'n like that to me a couple weeks ago."

"Alright, can you text me the address?"

"Yeah. Hey, man, look, half an hour, alright? You come earlier, she'll figure out something's off and bolt."

"Yeah, I know. Thank you."

The call ends, and your hands drop your phone to your lap, in favor of pressing the heels of your palms onto your eyes. "Fuckfuckfuck.", you mumble.

"What? Yo, hey, what happened? She okay?"

You flop back onto the bed with a slight thud, burying your face in your hands as you shook your head. "She snuck out. I thought she was home. Some guy just called me to come pick her up, but he doesn't even know where she's coming from."

You had to go?! Leaving him here with a fucking semi? Oh, Rue was fucking up his life even when she didn't know it. Fuck.

"But wait! Wait, but you're going?"

You scoff, reaching for your shirt to yank over your bra, gesturing at him for the rest of your clothes. He almost looks like he's going to withhold it, but by some stroke of luck, he hands it over to you.

"You're going to an address sent to you by some guy you don't know, because he says your cousin might be there? Ted Bundy woulda loved your ass."

See, what had started as a drunk hookup to a sort of poetic justice type thing against Rue ended with him genuinely liking your company. And that's what scared him. Because everytime he got close with a girl? Bam. Brainwashed to hate him. Like, what was up with that?

Thankfully, though, although it was evident Rue'd said some shit to you that day in the grocery store, you didn't seem to - at least to his knowledge - have taken that to heart. So... yay?

"If I go missing, you know some Fezco guy is the reason.", you snort, as you tug on your socks.

"Fezco? Oh. Oh, he's legit, don't worry." He inhales, rubbing a hand over his face for a minute before nodding. "He's a dealer."

"Of course he is."

════════════════════════════════════════════

30th of December.

"You—", he cuts himself off with a scoff of incredulity, cocking his head and furrowing his brows at you in such a cartoonish way, you almost laugh. He stops running his knuckles down your elbow for a moment, shaking his head. "What the fuck do you mean you won't be here for New Year's?"

"I just won't. I have school, don't I? Gotta get back home? And of course, Times Square New Year's is the best."

"You gonna tell me what happened? Is she good?"

"Like you care if she's good. You two hate each other."

"Mm.", he hums, gnawing on his lower lip, before kissing your wrist. "You guys are close, huh?"

"Oh, fuck off."

He grins. He knew you'd be onto him in a flash.

Laughing, he tugs you closer, into his chest. "Opening up to me isn't going to magically make us 'a thing', if that's what you're worried about. In fact, this is like you venting to a wall with ears. And a big dick. I'll throw in a 'mm, that sucks' every two minutes, too, if you want."

You chuckle tiredly, and he nudges your shoulder. "Come on."

"I just, y'know, she's not sober. Not even nearly, and I feel like a cunt for not telling Aunt Leslie, but it's just gonna cause a blow-up, and I don't wan—"

"You don't wanna cause a rift."

"Exactly! And I also, like, looked up to her a ton or whatever, growing up, and um... she's, like. She doesn't like me even a quarter as much as I like her, and it feels like we're not..."

"Not what?"

"Like, not even familly. Like I'm a personal assistant or, like, an afterthought, basically."

He sighs, moving some hair off your shoulder so he could nuzzle his nose into it. "So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing. Keep fucking her mortal enemy, I guess."

"Good choice."

A pause.

"Rue's a nice girl.", he says.

He's actively formulating a response to the fucking allegations Rue told you about him, and he figures he should play it how she'd least expect it. Instead of fuelling your annoyance at her and using it to his advantage (predictable and boring) , make himself seem like the bigger person. "She just... gets carried away sometimes."

"What?"

"Like, with what she said to you. About me.", he mutters, kissing up your cheek.

"You didn't strangle your girlfriend?"

"No. And there's police records to prove it. The guy turned himself in."

"Yeah, she said you blackmailed her friend Jules—"

"Oh, fuck. Jules? Look, again... we don't know each other that well, but she seems... she's a liar, alright? She likes to play the victim, and maybe there's a psychological reason for that, I dunno."

Well, fair, you reckon. That couldn't be too far from the truth, because this bitch had told Rue she'd loved her and she'd be there for her, then taken off in a train and left her to relapse.

He sees you mulling this over. Fucking score. Gently turning you to face him, he raises a brow. "What?"

"She said you catfished Jules and used her nudes to blackmail her into being an eyewitness."

He tries his best to scoff at that and maintain a hurt expression on his face, and he hopes he hasn't overdone it. "I was dating my ex, Maddy the whole time that was even supposedly "happening ". I had no dating apps, and you can check my phone, my drawers, and even my brain. I've never catfished anyone."

Technically, that's true. Catfishing implies that he used a face that wasn't his, or described himself different to what he actually was. He technically didn't show a face and didn't do the latter, either.

"It's all bullshit?"

"Yeah. Jules is... she's troubled. Y'know? First time I met her, she tried to cut me with a kitchen knife, then cut herself and stormed off. I don't even fucking know why."

"She what?!"

He smiles, sadly. "Yeah. Weird, right? I asked her who she was, because this party was my best friend's, and we're not going to have randos come in and fuck up his home. And she just went batshit."

He likes how this is going. He looks like the bigger person, and Jules gets shit on. "And Rue just trusts too easily. So, when Jules found her, I guess... she found someone willing to listen to her bullshit."

Rage consumes you. Fuck Train-Girl.

"I like you. You're willing to listen to both sides of the story. It's rare."

That's his final play. Make you look like the bigger person, too. So you're both 'bigger people' and you subconsciously look at the two of you as a team, and— fuck, he was so happy right now.

"What did Fezco say about me?"

You raise an incredulous brow. "Nothing. Wh— do you have beef with everyone?"

He laughs at that, his cheek resting on your shoulder, now. "Nah, nah, I got no beef. I'm a Nobel Peace prize candidate, on god."

You roll your eyes, aimlessly scrolling on your phone. He watches your feed roll by. More sunsets. More memes.

"We should date." It's not even a statement, let alone a question. It's a declaration, and it unnerves you. "I'm serious. I like you, genuinely. We're similar. The sex is phenomenal."

"And plus, it's fate. Right?" He's scrolling on your phone for you, now, chin in the crook of your neck as your relatively lame social media feed runs past his eyes.

"Listen, if you want a scholarship, you can just ask, I can give my Dad your tapes—"

"Oh, please, I could get into that college with my grades alone. I'm just saying. We're compatible. People fuck us over and we fuck them over back.", he retorts, moving to your camera roll and leaving little to no room for protest, with the way he's firing these words at you.

He's satisfied, relieved, even, with the contents of your camera roll. Flowers and sunsets and you and your family, some girlfriends, no nudes. Not bad.

"How do you figure?", you ask, turning to frown at him to show him how fucking peeved this invasion of privacy made you, but he pays you no mind, as he grabs your jaw, thumb navigating to the camera app.

"We're both technically fucking to get back at Rue."

He kisses your cheek and takes a photo.

"Yeah, but— hey, whoa."

"Would you angry-fuck me if I just...?", he muses, holding your phone out of reach as he makes a show of hovering his thumb dangerously close to Rue's contact.

"No! Nate, I'm not fucking with you! Stop!"

He just chuckles as he shakes his head, safely navigating to his own contact before pressing send.

Fuck. He sure knew how to terrify people to their fucking bones.

"Date me.", he has the audacity to suggest.

"You're an asshole."

"Date me anyway."

"Are you crazy?"

"Hey, you fucked me. Why not make it a regular thing? Exclusive, too, if you behave.", he teases.

You snort. "You're a trip."

"Is that a yes?"

"No, fuck you."

"Oh, come on. Date me, why not? Is it the long-distance? Is it the football player / daughter of a college scout thing? 'Cause, as I said, I don't care about that second-rate college. No offence."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna—"

"No? You're not gonna date me?", he questions, tilting his head almost pitifully.

"I just... I don't think I'm at the right... like, place for it." Okay, he was starting to freak you out just a little bit.

"Mm." It was an 'mm' of derision. Like he didn't quite believe you, or worse. Like he believed you, but it wasn't satisfactory enough for him. Disappointing. Not emotional enough. Not enough of a reason.

"What?"

He raises a brow, as if giving you a chance to reconsider. "You sure?"

"That I'm not at the right place for a relationship- yeah, I am." Alright, he sounded scary now, not freaky. What the fuck was he...?

He shakes his head, sighing. "God.", he tuts, holding you tighter against his chest. You don't notice this at first, but one of his arms is enough to restrict both of yours. And then, he's scrolling his phone, periodically checking to see that your gaze was following his movements.

"This is our chat.", he informs, like you don't have fucking eyes. "And this is my favourite picture of us."

"Favourite and only."

"Yeah.", he nods, his lips now glued to your temple, forceful enough to slightly push at your head a little. "Will you date me?"

"I just told you I can't really— you okay, man? You— I'm not trying to make you mad."

"I'm not mad, I'm kissing you, how can I be mad?"

Okay, yeah, that tracks. You nod.

The picture's downloaded. He sprints over to his camera roll to check that it is. And then, he moves to SMS. And there's only one person you can think of that's blocked him everywhere but SMS.

And then, you're struggling to move from his grasp, but his hand just presses your arms further into your own chest as he sends it.

"NO! What the FUCK?!"

He grins as your phone immediately dings with about twenty fucking notifications. "It could be Rue.", he parrots, the exact same tone as when you'd said it before the whole Fezco ordeal.

He's a fucking bastard. Of course it's fucking Rue.

"How are you ever gonna look Rue in the eye again?", he asks with mock concern, and it's a valid question.

How were you gonna look her in the eye again?

[yezhi1k]

Flowers & Cherries chp.1 (Jinx x Reader)

Notes: honestly this was just going to be a quick smutty fanfic but suddenly it turned into a whole thing. So uh... enjoy my shitty writing maybe? Smut will come in a future chapter :P. Also if you prefer reading on AO3, my name is MisanthropicMoose.

Summary: trying to survive after losing your parents, you start working for Smeech, eventually becoming his right hand. As you work yourself to the bone trying to keep your gang afloat, you help Silco strike a deal with Smeech, and meet his adopted daughter, Jinx. A friendship starts between you. Will it become more? (yes it will)

Tags: Jinx x reader, female reader, slightly older reader, first meeting, SFW, swearing.

Smeech has always been uncooperative. Extremely, stupidly uncooperative. Sure, he was one of the many crime lords in the Undercity, and so some harshness in his dealings was necessary if he was to protect his interests. But most and foremost he was a chem baron, a man of business. And business hinged on compromise.

You have tried to get this across many times. As Smeech’s right hand, you felt it was your responsibility to ensure the safety and flourishing of your group. You weren’t particularly attached to or fond of Smeech or any of his goons, but they found you and gave you shelter when you had nothing. Were nothing. Standing in the rubble of your home fissure, senselessly destroyed by Enforcers as they conducted another raid, allegedly in an attempt to rid the city of gangs, the leader of one of these very gangs offered you a deal you were in no position to refuse.

“Work for me. In exchange, you live.”

That day, you chose to live. Initially you were just another goon, doing Smeech’s dirty work for him. Being a young girl, you often acted as bait. Finding men who owed Smeech money in grimy bars, shooting them flirtatious glances, biting your lip as you let them buy you a drink. After some time of “pleasant”, in their opinion, conversation, during which you let them place their hand on the small of your back which inevitably always started inching lower, you leant in close to their ears, trying to ignore the stench of alcohol emanating from them.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

No one ever refused. A stupid, drunk grin would spread across their stupid, drunk faces and they would follow you out the door, eagerly pushing through the crowd, scared to lose sight of you. Desperate dogs. They followed you into the nearest dark alleyway, and as you turned to them, snaking your hands around their neck and pulling them close, a knife would find its way into the side of their abdomen. Or a bullet would pierce the side of their skull, narrowly missing you. These men often died with their hands on their belt buckles.

Although you didn’t enjoy playing the part of a vixen, you were grateful that over the years you’ve never had to go through with the operation all the way. As much of an asshole as Smeech was, he never pimped you out, not to his victims, not to his goons. Maybe because you broke the arm of the first goon that tried to touch your ass on the very first day you joined Smeech’s gang, he decided that he would get more use out of you as a goon rather than a call girl. That arrangement suited you fine.

Over time, you graduated from bait to hunter. The combination of your harmless appearance and your strength and agility, which you had to develop if you were to survive in the crime scene of the Undercity, made you a lethal weapon. Many evenings at the Last Drop were interrupted by one of the goons tapping you on the shoulder, eliciting an annoyed groan from you. They would just look at you, meek and apologetic.

“Again?”

“Yeah… sorry.”

“Can’t someone else do it?”

“He asked for you specifically.”

And you would have no choice but to gulp down the last of your drink, toss a couple of coins on the bench and sneak off into the night, grumbling away.

You would barge into his office without knocking. The more Smeech relied on you, the less you entertained the concept of good manners. You felt that it was your right at this point. Smeech would then give you your instructions, and you would storm out, not even trying to hide your frustration. Another ruined night out. All because apparently there wasn’t a single other fucking person in this fucking gang who can get a fucking job done cleanly and quickly.

More time passed, and the situation got even more dire. Smeech would start sending you out to negotiate with those he didn’t feel like killing yet.

“Smeech you have gotten to be fucking kidding. I am spreading myself thin with all of the assassinations you are assigning me as is, now you want me to go to fucking meetings for you?”

But you had no choice. You could run away, realistically speaking. Smeech and his goons have gotten so lazy and incompetent over the time you’ve been with them that they wouldn’t be able to find you if they tried. But what would you do? How would you make a living? No legitimate place would hire you, now that your face was plastered on every third wanted poster, and joining another gang seemed pointless and an unnecessary risk. Smeech was a lazy, selfish asshole, but he was a familiar evil. You knew him, knew what to expect, you could stand your ground with him. Another gang would be unpredictable. And so, you would put on the most presentable clothing you had, commonly consisting of a simple pair of grey trousers and a button down, and went to sit in a stuffy meeting with the other lazy, incompetent, stupid chem barons.  

Without a doubt, you were a better negotiator than Smeech. For the first couple of meetings, you were quiet, observing, collecting intel on everyone in the room, feeling for soft spots. Some were insufferable cowards and would pay any amount to just be left alone. Some had an affliction for alcohol, shimmer, sex. Commodities that could be traded or withheld depending on the situation. You had them figured out early on, for the most part getting to set your own rules without them even realizing.

But there was one you couldn’t crack. A pale man with one side of his face all scarred up, a black abyss of an eye with a flickering orange center replacing his, originally blue, left eye. The crime lord of the Undercity. Silco.

He also sat quietly, mostly listening to the brainless chatter of the others. Taking in and analyzing these blabbering fools in the same way you had. Letting more smoke than words slip past his scarred lips as his good eye focused on someone in particular, whilst the black one seemed to stare at everyone at once. The first time you showed up he stared at you for a while, measuring you up, trying to map out your weaknesses in the same way you tried to map out his. It sent a chill down your spine, and you felt a little nauseous. You haven’t felt genuine fear in a while by that point, and he brought that feeling right back. It sat as an unswallowable lump at the base of your throat as you tried to seem cool and collected.

Every meeting ended the same. Silco would bring his palm down on the table, letting the smack reverberate throughout the room as everyone quieted down. When it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, he would address everyone one by one, announcing his final terms. These were not up for debate. Not until the next meeting, anyway. This was an unspoken rule, which was to be obeyed if you wanted to stay alive to participate in the next meeting.

The first couple of meetings he skipped you in his final address. He didn’t have much to say to you, you haven’t worked up the courage to try to negotiate with him yet. As the gaze of his blue eye inched closer to you, you unconsciously held your breath. And as it skimmed over you without as much as a hitch, you slowly exhaled, wiping your suddenly sweaty palms on the sides of your “nice” trousers.

Until, suddenly, your luck ran out. And, at the end of another meeting, you found yourself staring right into both eyes, black and blue. He said nothing for a moment, and your brain started racing, spinning, screaming, trying to figure out what you did or said that made him mad at you. At the time, that seemed like the only explanation for his newfound interest in you. You fucked up. And now either you will suffer for your sins alone, or he will bring Smeech and others down as well. Will you fight him? Will you claw and beg for your life, or will you go with dignity? Will he allow you even a shred of dignity?

“Can you stay behind for a moment?”

That’s it. That’s it that’s it that’s it he will murder me in this very room leave my corpse as a warning for others oh my G-

“Of course”, you managed to squeak out. In this moment you accepted the fact that you were going to die, most likely a brutal, theatrical death, just like everyone knew Silco liked.

In the meantime, all of the other chem barons shuffled out of the room, some even shooting you an empathetic glance. They would miss you; you made them some pretty good deals, they thought.

You and Silco were alone in the meeting room, sitting opposite one another at the round table, which suddenly felt so big and baren. You watched intently as Silco ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back, before pulling another cigar out of his breast pocket. A guillotine always sat at the table, just for his cigars. As he brought it up to the end of the cigar, he looked up at you again. You were silent, and so was he. The silence was only interrupted by the sound of the cigar end being sliced. You held your breath.

Suddenly, in a move you did not anticipate, he stretched out his arm and brought the cigar closer to you in an offering gesture. You looked at it, then up at him, and the confusing must have been written all over your face. The corner of his mouth twitched up into a barely visible ghost of a smile.

“Care for a smoke?”

As the words registered in your head, you got even more confused. Why was he being nice? Why was he offering you a cigar, one of his nice cigars at that? Was this some kind of weird foreplay before he bashed your skull in?

“No, thank you. I don’t smoke”, you tried to steady your voice. If he wanted to play intimidation games, you were not going to give him the satisfaction of intimidating you. You forced your tense shoulders to drop, your jaw to relax. Be cool, be cool. Accept your fate with dignity.

Silco cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, seemingly amused by your internal battling. His blue eye suddenly glistened in a way that was almost friendly.

“Probably for the better,” he placed the cigar between his teeth and started feeling around his pockets for a lighter, not managing to find one. You always carried one just in case, and as you brought the light close to his face and he leaned in with an appreciative expression on his face, a spark of hope lit up in your heart. Maybe he didn’t want to kill you? Maybe it was something else?

Silco inhaled the smoke deeply, letting it out slowly through his mouth as he leaned back in his high back chair. His blue eye found you again, and the glowing ambers of hope in you got smothered out.

“Jinx went on a prowl to Piltover the other week,” he started. You furrowed your eyebrows. Why was he bringing up Jinx?

You knew of Jinx, everyone did. Silco’s pride and joy, adopted daughter, only weakness. A true wild card. The mere sight of her electric blue hair struck fear into the hearts of the most rugged goons.

You’ve seen her once before, at the Last Drop. She sat at the bar, legs hanging from the bar stool which was way too tall for her, kicking the air, chatting away with a visibly uncomfortable bartender. You remembered your eyes traveling from the crown of her head, down the long blue braids and the nape of her neck, lingering on her exposed back. She was a small girl, a couple of years younger than you. You remember wondering how it was that although she was constantly at the epicenter of explosions and fires, her skin remained so silky and smooth, seemingly unmarred by scars or any kind of blemishes.

“She likes going up there. Always brings back something curious,” Silco’s words interrupted your reminiscence of Jinx, and you brought your attention back to him. What were you doing? Ah, yes, he was going on some monologue before murdering you.

Silco put both elbows on the table and leaned forward a little bit. Your breath hitched.

“She brought a book from there last time. On medicine and such. Said the most curious things. They are saying smoking is bad for you, can you believe?” with that, he inhaled a full chest of cigar smoke, leaned even closer to you and breathed it out into your face. Your vision was clouded by the thick smoke, and you couldn’t help but cough. So, you thought, he decided to disorientate you before striking. Smart.

But as the air cleared, you saw that he didn’t move. He was sitting in the same spot, leaning onto the back of the chair. You started to get annoyed. Why was he toying with you like this? Did he want you to get angry? Was he some freak that liked it when people fought back, and you were being no fun?

Whatever, you thought. Your fate is sealed anyway. Might as well have a chat with the man you have been terrified of your whole life.

“With all due respect,” you started, cocking your head to the side in the same way he had minutes prior, “I reckon, with your line of work, it won’t be smoking that will do you in”.

Silco’s ghost of a smile got slightly wider. The blazing orange flame in the depths of his black eye charred your soul. You wondered if you overstepped.

“Don’t you mean, our line of work?” he asked. There was a tinge of amusement in his voice. He was obviously toying with you.

You relaxed your shoulders more and leaned back onto your own chair.

“It’s not the same for you and me. No one pays me any mind, really. You, however, are a much sought-after prize.”

Silco raised an eyebrow.

“You are selling yourself short. From what I hear, Smeech has been finding you awfully useful. You are practically keeping his whole operation afloat.”

Your neck muscles tensed up again. That’s it. Smeech did something to piss Silco off, and now he is going to kill you. Take away his best weapon. Make him helpless, like a baby bird. Smart.

Before you could answer, Silco continued.

“That is exactly what I wanted to discuss with you, actually,” his blue eye found yours again, “I have been trying to strike up a deal with Smeech. Profitable for both of us, slightly more profitable for me than him, I’ll admit. But still, I think it’s fair. He, however, has not been very… cooperative”.

You blinked. He was talking about… business? He strung you up, made you mentally sign your will, and now he wants to negotiate… deals?

You swallowed thick saliva that collected at the back of your throat. Alright. Business it is then.

“What is the deal?” you asked.

And so, your very first real meeting with Silco began. He wanted Smeech and his goons to provide protection for one of his shimmer transportation routes, which was infamously infested with Firelights. In return, he would pay half in money, half in shimmer. You perfectly understood that he would make a lot if that specific route was secured, and he could pay Smeech a lot more than what he was offering. But he was also offering shimmer. And not just any shimmer; the newest, most potent and at the same time safest strand available. Smeech was too dense to understand the true value of such a product, valuing money over everything. But you knew. It was a good deal. After some hours of ironing out the final details, you and Silco shook on it. As his cold hand grasped yours, you almost weren’t scared anymore. Almost. You knew better than to get too comfortable.

Over the next week you chipped away at Smeech. You knew that you had to work some persuasion magic on him, he wouldn’t agree immediately. But you were patient. You brought it up any chance you could, telling him about the superhuman strength you’ve seen other people obtain through that shimmer. Casually dropping that that strand is incredibly exclusive, not even for sale on the wider market yet, available only to the elites. You worked him thoroughly. Half because you understood the value it would bring to your gang, half because you were terrified at what Silco would do to you if you failed.

But you didn’t have to find out. Smeech caved, and even went to the next meeting to seal the deal with Silco himself. You waited outside. As all the chem barons strolled out of the meeting room, you got more and more nervous. All Smeech had to do was tell Silco yes, but you knew Smeech. He could fuck even that up.

You let out a breath of relief as you saw Smeech and Silco walk out of the room. The man and the yordle shook hands, both looking pleased, each convinced they outsmarted the other. As Smeech passed you, he put a mechanical claw on your shoulder.

“Take the evening off. Promise not to bother you with any jobs.”

You nodded, and watched Smeech stroll away, mechanical legs squeaking. As you turned on your heels to go enjoy your first night off in months, you came face to face with Silco, almost running into him. Before your blood ran cold again, he gave you a small, genuine looking smile.

“Thank you. I owe you a favor.”  

You opened your mouth to offer your share of pleasantries, but suddenly you and Silco both became engulfed in a whirlwind of blue. Blue hair.

“Silco!” a slightly raspy, melodic voice exclaimed. As your eyes came into focus again, you saw a short, slim female figure sporting two long blue braids hanging off Silco’s arm. You watched as a warm smile spread across his face, usually a picture of stoicism. As he reached over to stroke her cheek softly. You felt a sting of long forgotten burn you from the inside; it has been years since you felt the loving touch of a parent.

“What took you so long?” Jinx asked. You studied her face. It was young, with porcelain skin, dark circles under her big blue eyes. Her long bangs swept over to the right of her face. Your eyes traveled down to her dusty rose lips. You couldn’t help but become hypnotized with her, even though you knew what kind of destruction she was capable of. In this moment though, she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. She was just a girl, happy to see her dad. You watched them chat away for a moment, unsure whether you were dismissed or not. Suddenly, Jinx’s eyes landed on you. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly, her eyes darkened in an expression which was something between confusion and aggression.

“Who are you?”

Before you could answer, Silco did.

“This is Smeech’s right hand, I told you about her before. Smeech and I just made a very fruitful arrangement, she helped”.

Jinx’s face relaxed, and you could have sworn something resembling excitement ran across it. She took a step towards you, looking up at you with curious eyes.

“I’ve seen you before. You come to the Last Drop a lot,” she said, studying you. She was close now, you could feel heat radiating off her skin, smell the subtle sweetness of her hair. Warmth spread across your cheeks, and you were praying that your face hadn’t gone red. After a few moments Jinx finally stopped examining you and turned to Silco.

“Are you going back now?”

Silco shook his head, taking out another cigar.

“Unfortunately, I have some more matters to attend to.”  

“What am I supposed to do, then?” Jinx groaned, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall of the hallway, kicking it lightly, “I’m super bored. I’ve built all the weapons you asked for and Sevika is no fun today”.

The man only shrugged.

“You’re going to have to entertain yourself today I am afraid,” he puffed out some smoke and started making his way down the hallway, “I will be back by nightfall. Don’t blow Sevika up while I’m gone, please”.

And just like that, he was gone. By now you figured you could probably go and made a few steps in the direction Silco left in. Suddenly you felt a firm, warm grip on your forearm. You turned, meeting Jinx’s ocean eyes. She looked at you with a tinge of nervousness and curiosity in her eyes, the same way one approaches a new, previously undiscovered specimen.

“Before… I heard you got the evening off. Are you going to the Last Drop?” she finally asked, letting go of your arm. As the cool air enveloped your skin, you realized you missed the warmth of her touch.

“Yeah, I was headed there. Just wanted to stop by my place and change,” you said. Jinx’s eyes shifted, and she picked at the nail of her index finger with her thumb.

“Do you reckon I could come with you? I just have absolutely nothing going on.”

You shrugged, a little hurt that she made it so obvious you were her last resort. But then again, you only just met. It made no sense to be upset.

“Yeah, no worries.”

Jinx’s face lit up, and she embraced you with a small squeak, throwing her head back to look up at you. A grin was plastered on her face.

“Good to finally have a girl friend. I guess I have Sevika, but she doesn’t like me very much.” You cocked an eyebrow at her. Friends, huh? A bit fast, but fuck it. You were excited to have a new friend too.

[kazuski]

ft. sasuke uchiha

content warning :: nsfw [18+] implied yandere. aggressive sex. dubcon. exhibition. submissive! reader. biting. implied blood kink. cruel! sasuke. possessive sex. dirty talk. sadomasochism [wc 2.7k+]

© 𝙆𝘼𝙕𝙐𝙎𝙆𝙄

sasuke uchiha liked to be at the center of everything. which, by extension, typically meant you were at the center of everything as well.

you caught on quickly that sasuke would get irritated when you weren't at his constant beck-and-call. when he'd say something particularly witty, his gaze would always flicker back to yours with a flash of something akin to desperation, almost a yearning for approval.

when you turned away from him for the briefest of moments, sometimes for the simple pleasure of staring out the window at a bird perched on a branch, or a puffy cloud that rolled away with the wind. those moments were what really set him off.

"don't turn your back on me."

he only falters slightly when he sees the tears gathering in your eyes, grip only softening a little to smooth the tips of his fingers over your skin.

"it may be the last mistake you'll ever make."

you knew he'd never hurt you, not lethally. the closest he'd ever gone to murdering you was when he had you pressed face-down against some surface, inches deep inside of you and painfully restless. sasuke has always had a violent streak and combined with his obsession with you, his lust overrode what little inhibition he had. he'd gotten lost in the moment, one thing lead to another, and he had bitten into the carotid artery of your neck.

you nearly bled out, and sasuke didn't stop fucking you like a mutt in heat until he'd filled you at least twice. you still remember the blood smeared across his perfect cheekbone when you returned to consciousness, red dripping from his swollen lips, down his collarbones and chest. you still feel the shame you felt when you seized around him, even on the precipice of death.

he was good at that was well. he always managed to make you hate yourself by the end of the night, either from the mean and horrible things he'd say, or publicly humiliating you solely for the reason of satisfying his pleasure.

which was something he did often, evidently.

sasuke sat comfortably at the head of the long, black, marble table. the other seats seemed lackluster in comparison with his throne-like chair, cushion lined with crimson velvet and steel ridges. honestly, with the way others glanced at him with fearful looks, you certainly felt like you were sitting on the lap of a lord.

his legs were spread just wide enough that you fit perfectly between them, tucked away against his chest like his perfect accessory. with the rows of seats all filled with shinobi criminals, you couldn't help but feel all eyes were unintentionally on you.

the thought made you wince, tightening your grip on his shirt as you buried your expression against his collarbone. a familiar, stale whiff of remorse tickles your throat as you breathe him in, the smell of his cologne muddled with the palpable feeling of dark chakra, rolling off him in rolling waves.

sasuke eyes you idly, a barely noticeable smirk holding to the corners of his mouth as he watches you cling to him pathetically. pretty, little trembling hands clamoring to hold him closer. he waves a comforting hand down your spine, metallic rings contrasting against the natural warmth of his hands. it was a comforting inclination of his that you attempt to fall victim to, relaxing only slightly.

a low solitary utterance of your name grounds you, bringing your focus back to him. his dark hair practically begged to be tamed by the still of your hand. by the slow, hot drag of nails against his scalp. to kiss the mouth that almost swallowed your sobriquet for a second time, calling out to you again.

sasuke brushes his palm over the hardness in his pants like invitation before his greedy hands settle on your hips, grinding against your front, subtly gesturing you to come closer.

"sit properly. entertain this."

you knew what he was gesturing to, but in front of all these people? it was humiliating. you blink, lip quivering as your thighs move to rest on either side of his, your clothed cunt sitting just on top of his aching bulge. your cheek rests again on his shoulder and you sigh silently, pretending and hoping you'd done what he asked.

"you know that is not what i mean." he teases and your shoulders tense when his lips brush against the shell of your ear. he whispers, "be a good girl now. sit properly."

your eyes squeeze shut as embarrassment floods your cheeks, you moved to hover over him. his adventurous hands roam around your skin, they fumble at the hem of your soft dress and greedily moved it upwards to see more of a view. his mouth watered, seeing the cute little panties that pressed up against him. this feeling of his was as if he could perceive your sins through the electromagnetic spark that crackled when his skin connected with yours.

he undos the zipper of his pants and you freeze when he guides his thick tip to your tiny hole. your hesitation is evident, sasuke attempts to sedate it with a chide whisper of your name. watching your expression, he precariously tugs you in, cheering silently when your grasp clambers to his biceps, nails digging red crescent-moons into his biceps as you adjust to the painful stretch.

no matter how many times he fucks you, your body never seems to adjust to the sheer size of him. tears fill your eyes as sasuke tilts his head, faux frown pulling at his lips. his hands are warm, splayed across your thighs, smoothing over them slowly.

"you know i don't like it when you cry, baby."

you feel the eyes of the room on you, their gazes fleeting in your direction with red faces. one of the ninjas' who currently spoke began to stutter intensely.

"poor baby. did i hurt you?" he whispers, a cruel and excited look in his eye. you purse your lips, glancing away from him, pouting in childlike embarrassment. "didn' mean to."

you huff quietly despite the echo of warmth that washes over you, creeping up your neck, prickling your shoulders, your ears, and the sweet apples of your cheeks. hot, sturdy palms climb your body, clinging to your waist, lingering while his fingers ride higher, with blunt nails and soft fingertips ghosting across your ribs.

his nose twitches into a snarl when you flinch away from his fingertips tracing your sternum and you notice that he's gripping you harder. his eyes fix on your form, drinking in your figure, following the flow of pearlescent tears that fell from your eyes to your trembling jaw. he cocks his head to the side, peering up at you with half-lidded, dark eyes, thumbing over your hip bone.

lifting your hands to settle on staunch, broad shoulders, you breathe, "it feels like everyone is watching me."

he seemingly ignores you, hazy, dark eyes linger on you, transfixed, and nimble fingers trace the curve of your neck, trailing over your collar and past your clavicle.

"if you point them out, you know what i'll do for you." you shake your head quickly in response. you knew exactly what he'd do and in no way did you want to witness, nor be the cause of that again. he smirked at your silence, eyes growing darker. "then i'm gonna fuck you in front of all these people now."

your face grows warm as he watches for your reaction. his gaze roves, following the quick rise and fall of your chest, and you quickly wonder if he can hear the thudding of your heart, pounding to the beat of the blood rushing in your ears. he grips your hips tighter but he doesn't move you just yet, licking hips lips as he gazes down where your bodies connected.

"sasuke—" you barely finish breathing the name before he thrusts up into you, tears escape your eyes as you throw your head back with a silent moan. you could feel the eyes of the room on you as the lewd sounds your tiny, breathless pants echoes throughout the chamber.

you try to muffle the sounds of pleasure, escaping your throat in small squeaks in time with his thrusts. gradually, he speeds up, and you're unable to do anything but gasp and moan. your body goes weak suddenly as he hit began to his that spot with each thrust, you can't hold yourself up anymore. your cheek falls against his collarbone, your hands move to grab at the soft, black locks of hair at the base of his neck.

drool leaks from the corners of your mouth as you whimper his name a bit too loud, the eyes in the room seeming to grow a bit wider as the focus completely diverts from the topic at hand. you're breathing broken syllables of 'please' and 'sasuke', eyes growing distant as his hand snakes down between you to rub your clit.

you lost the ability to keep your voice silent, all inhibition leaves your body as your hips rut desperately into each of his thrusts. "hah hah! sasuke— sasuke fuck! please!"

his hands lie heavy on your hips, squeezing them as he kisses you roughly, thumbs digging into your waist. he's intoxicating, cloying your senses with the heat of his tongue and the heavy stench of sex, mingling, hardly masked by minty cologne. when he leaves, saliva clings to your parted lips, strung across the barely-there space between you, with hot puffs of air adhering to your faces like masks of honey and clay.

you can barely tear you eyes away from his to look between your bodies, watching the ring of white at the base of his cock. your entire body trembles violently from the strain as he pulls you back into his thrusts. your mouth falls open with a drawn moan of his name, as white clouds your vision.

he finds your mouth again, melding his tongue with the taste of you as the feeling of euphoria finally floods you. it was heavenly, the sensation crashing over you in waves, distracting you from the privy eyes of the room. your lips pulled away, a rope of spit connecting your lips as your head tossed to the side, eyes squeezing shut at they trembled wrapped around him, a shuttered moan passing your lips.

the moment the word leaves his mouth, the dozens of shinobi lining each side of the table scramble from their seats to the exit. you didn't even process his words, or even them leaving before sasuke was flipping you onto your stomach, lifting your hips up higher until only your upper half was pressed against the table before he began to thrust into your drooling, tight pussy.

you can't help but whimper and whine loudly now, rattling your frame and the table with the force of his thrusts. you thrash against him as the aftershocks of your previous orgasms corse through you, causing you to try and pull off his dick but to no avail. you hear him snarl as his hand finally move to grip and press your hips down against the table.

"trying to get away from me when you're all dripping like this?" he pants, scarred and calloused hands almost burning you with how unconsciously searing hot he was. that was something you noticed, he got feverishly warm when he was aroused, his chakra activating to accommodate his brimming emotions. "needy girl."

your nails dig against the cold, black marble. "fu— fuck, feels too good."

"yeah?" he purred, his excitement at your proclamation didn't go unnoticed. "you like it, filthy fucking whore. this pussy was made to be used by me, wasn' it."

"yeah." you whimpered meekly, moaning as his palm presses your cheek to the table. your eyes fluttered shut as you allowed the pleasure to consume you.

"no— no. don't look away from me." his hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look directly into those pretty, pretty eyes. if you were anymore lucid, you'd feel the pulsing of his fat cock inside of you, stretching your insides further and causing you to burn.

"m' sorry," you whimper, looking up at him with furrowed brows, too overcome with pleasure to truly feel bad. "sorry."

sasukes' head falls back with a breathy moan at the sound of your teary eyes and fearful voice, looking up at him like his was the sun in your sky.

he was. he was the sun in your sky, sasuke can't help but think as his hips slam into yours harder if possible, nearly bruising your tender pussy walls with the force of it.

"fuck, this is mine— all mine. mine."

sasuke resists the urge to kill you— oh how he hated how you made him feel. to watch the soul drain from your eyes would be pleasant, but far too fleeting. he'd much rather have you like this, over and over and over. where he could enjoy you for as long as he wanted.

so instead, he settled with a simple punishment, teeth finding your shoulder (he had learned already once to stay away from the neck) biting until you screamed, and he tasted the metallic liquid on his tongue. the blood was quick to pool on the table when sasuke released you, spilling to where his palm held him above you.

pained sobs left your puffy lips as your shoulder burned and clit ached for attention. you tried to hike yourself higher, let the friction of the table do your dirty work but sasuke caught onto your little plan far too quickly. he leaves you empty as his hand, covered in your blood grips your bruised hip, flipping you over so he could look you in the eye.

"don't try to be clever, stupid girl." he growls, you can only nod up and down through the last tremors of your own high as you squeeze around him. "move those hips now."

you obey quietly, he moans as you squeeze around him tighter and feels himself grow closer to his finish. he moved closer to you intrinsically, something you noticed he tended to do when he was going to cum.

"wanna cum too." was all you could manage, tiny hand gripping his palm as you lead him down quicker than he could notice, right to where you wanted to be touched. "i wanna cum, please sasuke. make me cum."

"yeah?" he abides, watching as you head tosses backwards, back arching as he massages your clit and sends pleasurable shockwaves through your body. "only i can make you cum, baby. only me."

"only you." he lets out the prettiest sound when you pull him closer by his hair, when you kiss his neck with so many desperate kisses you feel breathless. "only you."

his mouth drops open as he works you both to it, perspiration building above his brow and drenching his hair as your body's melt together with heat and searing affection. his warm body against yours is enough to get you coiling so tight, trembling violently as he fucks you through your second orgasm only easing up a little when you get so tight he might hurt you. when your walls flutter around him though, he increases his pace even more, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

his mean words die down to pathetic whimpers and he cums with a choked swear and your name, spurting thick ropes of hot white into your stupid cunt. it fills you up with warmth and makes you feel so nice and full. he collapses on top of you with your arms still limply around his neck, and hiccup against the tears when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, whispering words you couldn't hear.

you're too exhausted to process the slight burning of his skin against skin, too focused on the feeling of his lips curling against where his teeth punctured you .

you make a soft, small noise and let him kiss you again before your eyes flutter open. his irises carry all the ferociousness of the sun— and god, they were relentless. he hums at your little smile but when you catch his eyes, the darkness is still there. still, he pulls you a bit closer to his chest then, and you can feel the rapid patter of his heartbeat against yours and as bad as it should be, you can't help but think this is how you're supposed to be loved

[cassafrasscr]

Honestly, having Taliesin and Brennan at the same table is a lethal combination. It's just banger line after banger line with these two.

[dailysylvesterashling]

Day thirty five

Sylvie’s Nightmare fuel

Is it deadly?

Sylvie never explictly says it's lethal, and he wouldn't have used it on Molly if he knew it was

The nightmare fuel fire could be as deadly as normal fire but I don't think so

speaking of, Is it collateral?

If someone’s worst nightmare was seeing their loved one get hurt

does it summon a translucent version of their loved one or does it just dome the real-life loved ones and let the victim find out all on their own?

I mean It summoned ducks for Mera...but it also brought Sergeant Bear and Corporal Other Bear to life as well so ehhh

Honestly I like Sylvie's nightmare fuel being non-lethal so he can use it for therapy purposes but also think of the angst that combining both could lead to

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Spell - Oct 3 - @rosekillermicrofic - 1,041 words - Warnings: none, just Barty being a little freak

Contrary to popular belief, Barty actually loved attending his friends’ shows. Of course, he was obliged to bitch and moan about having to attend, and he had to act like it was the utmost inconvenience to make his way to whatever venue they had secured that Saturday night. Deep down, he was sure his friends knew he loved coming, because they never stopped inviting him, and he, for his part, never stopped showing up for them.

But his least favorite show was always the Halloween show. It was probably the band’s favorite, or at least the manager’s favorite, because the crowd was always the biggest on Halloween. Something about the holiday made people excited to see live music, even if they had no idea what band was playing, which was beneficial for Emerald Envy. But the crowd was always too drunk and too pushy, so Barty typically had to stand further back than he usually would.

His solution was to come early that Halloween, so he ended up at the venue a full hour before the show was supposed to start. The bar was mostly empty, as it was only 8:00 p.m. and most people wouldn’t be here for another hour or more, except for the band setting up and doing soundcheck. Pandora, as always, squealed excitedly upon seeing him.

“Bartemius Crouch, Jr.!” She called out, and Barty winced at the use of his full name. “It has simply been too long since I’ve last seen you!”

Barty only chuckled, splaying his arms wide as she ran up to him to pull him into a tight hug. “I missed you too, Miss Pandora Rosier.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Pandora gushed as she pulled back, already heading back to the small stage. “You’ll stay for the whole show, right? Oh, you’ll have to meet my brother, he’s coming today!”

“Ah, the elusive brother you always speak about,” Barty mused, following her retreating form. On the stage, Regulus and Dorcas were each tuning their instruments, ignoring the two of them completely.

“Yes, he’s finally back from studying in France,” Pandora said excitedly. “I told him he just had to come tonight, not that he’s very excited to stand in a crowd of people tonight, but he’ll show up for me.”

Barty snorted. What she meant was, I will make him show up for me. Pandora was lovely, but one did not simply deny her anything.

“I hope I run into him later, then,” Barty said, having no idea how true that would be.

Barty’s original plan did not work. Coming to the venue early meant he had time to hang out with his friends before the show, but it did not mean that the people who showed up later than him wouldn’t shove him out of the way, which was exactly what had happened. He ended up in the very back of the bar, leaning up against the wall as he watched his friends perform. It was a rare song in which Dorcas joined Pandora in singing, and their lovely melodies filled the air.

If he’d had a drink for every drunk woman dressed as a witch, he would be shitfaced already, and it had only been an hour. As it was, Barty was nursing his second drink of the night, glaring at anyone who tried to approach him. Somehow, some guy still ran into him, even with Barty leaning out of the way against a wall, and sending out the general aura of don’t fuck with me. He spun to the right to confront the man, but the words died on his tongue as he took in his appearance.

It had to be Pandora’s brother. He had the same chestnut skin against white-blond hair twisted into dreads, the same sharp cheekbones and unnervingly bright blue eyes. Except on this man, the combination of those features was utterly lethal. Barty felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, and the guy hadn’t even said a word yet. Barty was well aware he’d just spun around dramatically only to gape like a fish, but he honestly felt as if he could do nothing else. The blond man, Pandora’s brother, the fucking god, had the audacity to raise his brow at him.

I put a spell on you, because you’re mine

Distantly, Barty could hear Dorcas and Pandora singing together, but he couldn’t hear the words. He was enraptured by the angel in front of him. Literally an angel — as in, he was dressed in too-tight, white jeans, paired with a nearly-see-through white t-shirt. Then there were the feathery little wings strapped on his back and the halo sitting daintily on his head, both clearly made for a child. Barty hadn’t dressed up, but he wished then that he was wearing all red.

“Uh, hi?” The man said, raising his brow even higher when Barty did nothing but stare at him.

“You bumped into me,” Barty said rudely, stupidly. “I’m Barty.”

“Sorry,” the man said, but the corners of his lips lifted in a smirk, which suggested he wasn’t feeling any remorse whatsoever. “You must’ve been in the way.”

The gall of this man. Barty was going to eat him alive. “My name is Barty,” he repeated, taking a step closer. “What’s yours?”

The man stared at him for a long moment, eyes tracking every movement of his face. Barty caught a flash of silver when he opened his mouth, and he had to hold back a moan when he realized the man was fiddling with his tongue piercing. Barty wanted to feel that piercing with his own tongue. He wanted to feel it on the underside of his—

“Evan,” the man — Evan — grunted. “I’m Evan.”

Barty grinned like a shark, chancing another step forward into Evan’s space entirely, pressing them together chest-to-chest. “Hello, Evan.”

I put a spell on you, because you’re mine

Barty heard the words loud and clear this time. He swore he caught Pandora’s eyes sparkling all the way across the bar. She had planned this all along, the little minx. As Evan leaned forward to nose along the line of his neck, his breath hot against Barty’s skin, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

10 Jikook Fanfictions Part 1

I said I'd make a list before the end of the year and I kept my promise. Now, it's difficult to choose, especially when I have more than 300 bookmarks and unfortunately I also started doing that some year and a half ago. Safe to say, there's probably plenty of good fics I read that are now lost. Anyway, enough with the boring chit chat, here's 10 random jikook fics in no particular order and most likely, several other parts will follow, probably next year 😉

1. Dead in the Water

It's been a couple of years since I read this and honestly, I barely remember much, but what I do know it's that it had an impact on me. Usually fics that have death as a central theme end up resonating with me, but perhaps it's because I've always been attracted to more darker fiction. This one is gritty and there's a lot of pain and I must have cried a lot (those tend to stick in my head)

2. we're holding hands beneath the silver screen

I think this story is taking place in the 90s (you'll see that a lot of the fics I recommend are taking place in the past). I think I ended up reading everything ChimneyCricket wrote, but this one remained a favorite. Coming of age during a summer in Jeju in the 90s. Apart from the theme, it's the writing that made me stick with it.

I'm not the biggest fan of young adult stories. Or better yet, it's not something that I'd go to as a preference. When I do, it's more of an indulgence and thankfully, I found some writers (like this one) who can do a really good job with the genre.

3. Stockwell

Another writer that I've become a big fan of after reading one fic of theirs. And I think it might have been Stockwell that did it for me. I like that it's fanfiction with adult themes for an adult audience. And I also resonate with a lot of the cultural references and themes. I will also admit that this fic leaning into the enemies to lovers trope was a selling point because I'm a sucker for it. I can't help myself.

4. Burn for You

This is a complete self indulgence for me and I embrace it. Just like watching Bridgerton is a guilty pleasure for which I don't actually feel guilty (and the inspo for this fic). This story has everything and I must say the combination of lust, fear of revealing feelings, rumors, proper behavior and hidden romance is a lethal combination!

5. Light of a century

I might have recommended this story before, but it being inspired by Up on Poppy Hill is not just due to the plot, but the writing is able to evoke that studio Ghibli mood. This fic is to be read on a hot weekend afternoon.

6. Map of the Soul

This might be one of the most complex fanfictions I read due to the amount of research needed, but also in the depiction of political contexts and identity politics. Most of all, I like it because as much as relationships are a vital part of the story, there is an entire world surrounding the main characters. Events and other people that have also room to develop and not just remain props that advance the story.

7. Proceed with Caution

I don't know what snatchim did with this fic, but it's the only one I ever reread multiple times and I'll probably do it again in the future. I don't even reread books from my library, let alone fanfics. But Proceed with Caution did it for me. Perhaps it's because of the process of Jungkook inevitably falling for Jimin and even though it's a bad thing considering the context, it's so good. Maybe it's the image of Jimin with a bellybutton ring or maybe because the picture of hot Californian days in the 70s is so vivid, it feels like a nostalgic Paul Thomas Anderson movie.

8. Dishwater World They Said Was Lemonade

The description does not do this story justice because it's so much more than that. It's a canon compliant thriller with really complicated and complex characters and once again, a story meant for adults who understand that it's fiction. Unfortunately, judging by the comment section, a lot of people cannot distinguish betweem real people and characters. For those of you who might be fans of Korean thrillers, this story might be the one for you. It's also one of my favorite jikook fics as well.

9. souvlaki

Need I say more, considering the description? This is a self indulgence as well, but of a different kind. If I happily read tropey fics, I also like the ones that can sound like a uni course. Set during the 1997 FMI crisis in SK, any reader will get familiar with a socioeconomic and political perspective of that time through the eyes of the main characters. If you're only looking for romance, this one is not for you.

10. you wouldn't remember

I think littleflumes might be currently my favorite writer of canon compliant jikook. I think the author really captured their dynamic in its essence and the room left for fiction perfectly fills in the holes left in the last 2 years and up until the present. But what did it for me, not only with this story, but the others in the series as well, is that it's concentrated almost entirely on the two main characters, almost living in a bubble of their own in which their relationship can be explored.

[literary-illuminati]

2025 Book Review #6 – The Lotus Empire by Tasha Suri

This is the final book in the increasingly rare Epic Fantasy Trilogy to actually finish after only three books. It’s very much a direct continuation, too – there were several occasions I wished I had reread Jasmine Throne or Oleander Sword before starting it so I could better keep sideplots and minor characters straight in my head (and to figure out if some things that happen were in any way foreshadowed). Overall, still a very fun read and a mostly satisfying conclusion to the trilogy – though I admit I did find it to be the weakest of the three on a few different levels. Though that’s mostly just personal appeal, probably; of course my favourite is the book that ends with the central romance breaking up via knife in heart and not the one where they get back together.

The book picks up shortly after Oleander Sword lets off – Malini’s claim to the throne secured beyond victory on the battlefield all doubt by her brother’s willing immolation, recovering from the near-lethal wound Priya inflicted upon her. Priya, meanwhile, has returned to c – and finds herself awkwardly thrust into the position of mediating between her people and her arisen gods – gods who clearly care about her and her destiny more than the rest of the nation combined. Categorically unable to get over each other, they find themselves forced onto opposing of a war even as Priya becomes more and more grimly aware of just what the destiny the yaksha have shaped her for actually entails.

And then there are a half dozen other POVs of various importance, some supporting characters in Priya or Malini’s story, others branching off into their own plot lines of varying import. I honestly feel like the book’s main weakness is that it should have either leaned further into the ensemble cast or been a bit brutal with cutting POVs to better focus on the central romance. It’s not a fatal failing – (almost) everyone’s arc does cohere, but the internal journeys e.g. Rao and Sima go on feel a bit tell-don’t-show just because of how few pages there are to dedicate to them. Priya and Malini meanwhile, have plenty of time but also a relationship that goes through so many twists and curves that some of the most vital individual beats still feel rushed and cramped.

My main actual disappointment with the book is the lack of real political intrigue and manoeuvring – the sort of thing that had been of the real highlights of the first two for me. Which is largely still the progression of the narrative – Malini won the game of thrones, with the exception of the priesthood everyone who matters is either loyal to her or dead. What irks is the number of words spent gesturing towards court intrigue and threats to her rule from within that turn out to be utterly hopeless – the Empress Dowager’s whole subplot could have been cut with very little loss, and for all the buildup of the priests of the Mothers infiltrating her army and entourage and collecting information, with the only exception who only needed two scenes, all the danger from them just comes from exactly the obvious people anyone would have expected it too.

Which might be why (unlike my memories of previous books) I enjoyed Priya’s chapters significantly more than Malini’s this time. Her relationship with Mani Ara – the elder goddess who she is being shaped as the mortal vessel/incarnation of – through the first three quarters or so of the book is probably my favourite part of it. Her relationship with the yaksha and trying desperately to be the ruler/priestess/protector Ahiranya needs is also just really compelling reading. By contrast, Malini manoeuvring to keep her throne and fight the yaksha while the priesthood she relies upon waits for her to accept their prophecy that only her human sacrifice and immolation will save the world should have been absolute catnip to me, but (far more than Priya’s issues) got drowned out by the romance on the one hand and chasing various High Fantasy Magic Plot Coupons on the other.

Human sacrifice of various kinds is pretty key to the book – to the themes of the whole series, really. Priya and Malini both live on borrowed time before their destiny of consumption or immolation by the divine calls for them, and every kind of magic in the setting is build upon the (ideally willing) offering up of blood and breath. Empire specifically gets, I fear, a bit confused about what it’s trying to say with this theme. One is left with the impression that martyring yourself for the sake of others is tragic but beautiful and noble – unless you are a protagonist, in which case the selfish power of life and the imperative to find a reason to keep on living triumph over all. It feels odd, after two books spent dwelling so deeply on cultural scripts and social pressures that connive to create ‘willing’ sacrifices, to have a finale that relies upon all these priests and monks expend themselves as magical ordnance with barely a qualm raised by anyone.

I do wish more of a line had been drawn between Malini and the yaksha in general (or just Mani Ara in particular, though her less so than her embodied children). Both they and she are desperately to live, to survive against all odds and at all costs – even if their deaths are written in the stars, and their survival endangers the world around them. Or well – maybe it’s just my insensitive xenophilia speaking but – I feel like there’s something to worry at there, anyway. The yaksha are clearly people in a moral sense, an clearly motivated by the fear of death and a callous disregard for humanity more than anything else – given the book’s stance on major characters with real pathos dying for the sake of theology otherwise (Priya, Malini, Rao), the way the book frames the world rejecting them and their eventual acceptance of their deaths as right and noble sits a bit oddly.

But this probably seems far more negative than I actually am about this book. The setting is vivid and well-drawn, the imagery is beautiful – the aesthetics of the yaksha and the rot especially is just incredibly compelling to me – and Suri manages to balance a great many different POV characters without their internal monologues ever blending together or becoming gratingly gimmicky in an attempt to make them distinct. For all my qualms about the book’s ending, the central romance does really work – which is absolutely vital, because even more than the previous books in the series it really is the spine the whole story is hanging on.

So yeah, if you’re in the market for a trilogy or doorstoper-sized fantasy tomes, you could absolutely do a lot worse. If this is weaker than the previous two, it’s still good, and the three together cohere as a single story far better than a lot of similar series’. Give Jasmine Throne a try and go from there, at least.

[crow-n-tell]

HELLO AND WELCOOOOME TO!

What kind of jellyfish is sun?

I got some requests about getting a lil layout of what jellyfish types I combined to get him the way I did for moon in this post. It’s not as fun and detailed as moons because, let’s face it: jellyfish are pretty straight forward but!! Here

Phacellophora Camtschatica

aka The Fried Egg Jellyfish.

This is the biggest and most obvious part of Sunny’s design, he‘s an egg boy and I love him for it. But also there’s an interesting bit about the relationship between fried egg jellyfish and larval crabs. See these lil baby crabs?

Yeah so they climb inside fried egg jellyfish and just. RIDE AROUND IN THEIR BELL? Consequences be damned lil dudes chillin in there getting a ride. Which makes this the second time I’ve seen other animals use jellyfish as transportation. Baby octopus, baby crabs, with sun’s size it’s safe to say reader could probably do the same.

Though maybe reader wouldn’t want to do that because the whole reason larval crabs are chilling in their bell is also because jellyfish, while not capable of being infected by parasites cause they… they don’t have the bits that help parasites do the meat suit piloting… are carriers of parasites! They just walk around with em chilling in there. Larval crabs love monchin on em.

Next up is!!

Chrysaora Fuscesscens

aka

Honestly pacific sea nettles don't have many interesting facts about them. What can I say? they are very very long - talking 15 feet long. Other than that there isn't much else to say, I wish I could list something insane off like, OH THEY’VE GOT LAZER EYES. Nope. These guys float around looking like beautiful undersea mushrooms and they need no special skills to do that.

Uh. Yeah it’s not a jellyfish. This specially has to do with Sunny’s electric ability. Maybe you were thinking, oh so he’s like electric eels? (Which actually aren’t eels! They are a type of knife fish) no no, I am a perfectionist! I aim for accuracy and I also aim for the fun of science. While jellyfish cannot actually 🎵 shock you like a electric eel 🎶, jellyfish can SORT OF generate electricity.

Via a green gooey substance in the bells of jellyfish, scientists have discovered that by exposing it to ultraviolet light it produces electrons. Layman's terms? SOLAR POWERED GOO. While jellyfish have not harnessed the solar goo, scientists have actually found a way of using it to make a new form of green electricity!

So while Sun isn't electric the way an electric eel is, he still has a way of using electricity to make him a pretty powerful lil taser. Enough to put something smaller than him in a cardiac arrest, and give something his size or bigger a good reason to scamper off.

SOLAR POWERED SUN!

Which leads to my finishing notes.

While sun uses his zapper stuff quite a bit, he does have a regular sting too. While relatively less lethal than his zapping for bigger creatures, it does function as a paralytic! For smaller creatures it’s Uh…. Its a lil more dangerous. Good thing neoprene is sting proof haha.

And I had something else…

I recently posted a magma with Sunny sleeping.

This is based around the jellyfish that scientist found out sleep, Cassiopeia.

They are usually just chilling like that, bell down. Looking at them like this it really makes you think about how closely related they are to sea anemones huh? Lil freaks.

Sometime soon I’ll post a eclipse version of this, which I’m excited about because I love sharks SO MUCH.

[paleghostinthecorner02]

Because Gwen is a teenager who was betrayed by her father and taken in by adults who constantly filled her head with the idea that people, including her dad, had to die for millions to be saved. Because despite said adults knowing the bad situation she was in chose to treat her completely like an agent, a warrior, a soldier instead of a child that needed love and compassion. Because despite living in fear of Miguel sending her back home, she still chose to disobey him to see Miles when she had the chance because she loves him that much. Because she was in a lose/lose situation where telling Miles about his dad needing to die would inflict a pain she was experiencing and didn't want him to bear, but not telling him would run the risk of him finding out from someone else and making her look like she was being malicious. Because she was used as a scapegoat by Miguel when he was the main reason Miles was able to escape, and punished by him for it. Because she recognized the hurt she caused and took accountability, unlike any of the adults in her life including PETER B. PARKER. Because she is actively trying to make up for the mistakes she made while she was still under Miguel's influence.

None of you media illiterate dweebs who treat her like she's Judas Iscariot and the Whore of Babylon combined because she made some very understandable mistakes should continue to watch these children's movies because I'm afraid the writing for Gwen is too complicated for you to grasp. Gwen has actual, meaningful flaws than cause actual, meaningful conflict and lead her her having actual, meaningful character development. Even more pertinent, her failings aren't a result of any kind of malice, but rather a desire to not see the people she loves hurt, an understandable character trait that stems from the trauma of her accidentally killing someone close to her OH MY GOD DO YOU NOT WATCH THESE MOVIES?

Honestly Peter B is way more infuriating in this movie since he's an adult who doesn't view Miguel as an authority figure (if their comic relationship is the same in this movie then they're friends and Miguel has a lot of respect for Peter) and has nothing for Miguel to hold over his head like Gwen did. He should have known better, he should have been the one most defending Miles, he should have defended Gwen when Miguel was blaming her for something Peter knew wasn't her fault. He was RIGHT THERE next to Gwen on the train and saw Miguel fail to subdue Miles (despite the fact that he could have, you know, injected him with a powerful, non lethal paralytic that would have made it exceedingly easy to take Miles into custody and instead decided to monologue like a dipshit). Give me a reason other than abject misogyny why you think Gwen deserves to be hated in a way Peter doesn't, I dare you.

Rant over. TL:DR, Gwen doesn't deserve the hate she gets from idiots in the fandom who can't see past "Muh poor Miles got his feelings hurt."

[darklinaforever]

I really wonder if people, who make the claims that Nosferatu shows that it’s about how sexual abuse is demanded by society in order to carry on and so a woman has to be sacrificed to her abuser and is encouraged to do so by patriarchal male figure with lethal results to save status quo, understand how they sound like? Because if they insist on this interpretation when they basically make out Eggers look very sexist, more like glorifier of female abuse and female death in the form of sacrifice to save male dominated world, and more regressive than both Murnau and Herzog combined. Because Ellen’s sacrifice is shown to be as a good thing in the movie, not as like something bad or deplorable. But with their interpretation it twists it into something completely morbid, overwhelming cruel and mean to Ellen and practically reasserts the patriarchy narrative. They really need to stop and think what they are promoting with such takes.

Yes. Honestly, it's very disturbing that people think that about the film. They had the complete opposite reading of what Eggers wanted.

[ask-rain-world-characters]

To all scugs, tea or coffee??

And depending on which you pick, do you have a favourite type, be it hot or cold, or different flavours?

Survivor's Answer:

Monk's Answer:

Hunter's Answer:

Watcher's Answer:

Gourmand's Answer:

Artificer's Answer:

Rivulet's Answer:

Spearmaster's Answer:

Saint's Answer:

Enot's Answer:

Transcripts below:

Survivor: “Depends on my mood, honestly, but I do love me some espresso. Earl tea is fine, but it's little too... uhh... exquisite for me. It's nice on occasion, though!”

Monk: "Tea... *Monk takes a slow, thoughtful sip from a steaming cup of tea, eyes soft with contentment. Tea feels like a friend—quiet, steady, always there to remind you to breathe. Coffee might give you strength in the moment, but tea... it gives you peace. That’s what I need most. And it does taste quite delicious"

Hunter: - “Tea? Coffee? I don’t think I’ve tried them before… I think my friend Saint has some. Saint, May I have some tea?” - “Alright but it is quite bitter.” - “Nonsense! I, the great Hunter, am accustomed to many tastes! Good and bad.” *sips a drink *coughs uncontrollably “Mmmm! It’s so good! I like it’s- cough! Ugh… everything!” - “I told you.” - “Oh god! It has the charm of a not so venomous spider!” *continues to cough "...now that I've tried tea, which is, uhm... really good, I-I think I'll try coffee next. I have some right here! Alright... three, two..." *sips a drink *coughs uncontrollably yet again "Mmmm! Delicious! It's like... argh... if I - if I kiss the a... a really nice Red Lizard, on the aaa-" *coughing intensifies

Watcher: " Although I drink more tea, I enjoy both tea and coffee equally. For coffee I mostly like Cappuccino... though it's more like cacao than actual coffee. But for tea I enjoy all kinds of it, especially the holiday focused ones. I also like to drink teas made by Gourmand.... although it worries me what he's gonna add next... ."

Gourmand: I have quite a deep admiration for both! There are lots of options for the flavoring of these drinks, and there's even more, when it comes to types! Yet, we are often missing a lot, so we have to make do, with what we get. Despite that, I still appreciate them very much. I mainly use them to accentuate the calm and peaceful moments - for which, tea is better, so that would be my personal pick. Especially since its flavor is much closer to the things I'm used to. I've seen others take some coffee before a hunting or gathering tour, but I'd prefer to just sleep more.

Artificer: "I much prefer coffee, the taste of tea disgusts me to no end. Plus the bitterness that comes with coffee is a nice palette changer from eating meat all the time."

Rivulet: "Coffee all the way baby, taste is like no other! People say it wakes you up but weirdly enough it makes me drowsier... How odd, I typically have it hot, and I don't really get espressos, which do kind of wake me up from it's strong taste. Maybe I should have more of them, could help me get an energy boost."

Spearmaster: "More of a tea guy personally, and I don't have a preference on whether or not it's hot or cold. What I will say is I really like the particularly fruity and citrusy flavors, herbal ones are pretty nice however and help in calming me down."

Saint: "I'm partial to hot tea myself. I find the combination of the subtle flavor and the temperature to be rather soothing."

Enot: "Oh neither, I don't like hot drinks and the only cold drink I need is...hold on" *audible button click 'Kevin MacLeod - Carefree' but slowed down by 52% starts playing "Try some Five Pebbsi! The number one way to supply your body with nutrients it really needs in the fastest time, especially if you're a GAMER like myself and don't touch grass! Well I mean you cant blame me, the grass is lethal here! 100% vegan friendly and full of all new fantastic flavors like Train Lizard, Cheese and I don't even know what this one is called but this label is yellow which means its probably good, I mean just look how many are in my mini fridge!" *audible fridge opening noises "And if you use the code 'GOODNIGHT GAMER' in the next week, you can get 20% off your next purchase, so try some Five Pebbsi, your body will be kissing you for your good deeds in no time!"