#no one FAWKING touch me

[takomakiii]

win for me

[nyxire]

i got back into totk and although i firmly stand by my 'it could've been better' thta most definitely doesn't make it a boring game

[jaggedamethyst]

golden boy | jayce x female reader

1.7k words

content: fawk it, jayce making a damn vibrator with hextech…and suspending my disbelief that they even knew what that was and he legit created it idc!! walk with me girl!!!

18+ minors dni, angst, pathetic! jayce, kinda mean but closed off reader, pining (?), some fluff, smut duh, vibrator used on reader…also jayce is kinda a sarcastic mf here

notes: idk what came over me guys, but I feel like this could end up being longer than just a one shot bc the angst made its way in like usual. also jayce is a smartie pants, leave him alone guys.

update: part two is up now!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He heard you before he saw you, your light saunter approaching him. Jayce had to immediately curse himself, because while he was rather smart, his reflexes were damn slow. He didn’t even think to cover his sketches before you were already close enough to crane your head over his shoulder.

A hand found his back, rubbing it encouragingly. “What ya workin on?”

Jayce was someone who loved to be affirmed. You both knew that. So before even registering the odd shapes you were looking at in his drawings, you wanted to let him know you were there and that any stress that lingered would soon dissipate. You were confused, then, when he rose quickly. He used his broad shoulders and back to block your view.

He smiled, clearly caught off guard. “Just some new stuff…you know…the mind never stops!” His cheeks soon blossomed with a rosy sheen across them. There was a sympathy in your gaze, but an even larger feeling of intrigue.

Jayce was easy to distract. As much as he loved to work on his creations and improving Hextech, he was also extremely needy. This often left him quite impressionable under your touch. Over the course of your relationship—which you would admit wasn’t actually a thing—you used this to your advantage.

You approached him slowly, an arm outstretched toward his face. He instinctively learned towards the palm of your hand. You intended to at least plant a kiss on his cheek, but he was a lost puppy these days. Just that action alone was enough for his body to relax into you. You had an opening. You slipped your hand behind him under the guise of stabilizing yourself on his workbench—grabbing a handful of the loose pages.

With a squeal you backed up, and spun around. “Wooooo what do we have here!”

“Wait-“ he turned between you and his work, “you tricked me?”

Holding the papers up toward the light to inspect them, you quirked a brow. “All in a days work, babe. Although…I don’t exactly know what I’m looking at here.”

Jayce was exasperated, how humiliating for you to have found these—even more that they weren’t even done. He was a scientist, after all. He needed time to finalize and test every possibility. He didn’t want to fight you for the papers—couldn’t really.

“Its just,” he sighed, “some stuff for you- or um, us?” He didn’t mean to sound like it was a question, a chance. It was definitive. He knew numbers and percentiles the same way he knew you. There was a desire there to be something more than just this. But he was entirely too passive to ever tell you. So he worked tirelessly at the only thing he knew you would show up and stay for. He didn’t mean for us to sound like a question, but it was.

You’d turned your back by then, the best angle of the sun shining towards your back and thus highlighting the drawings. Your intense gaze had faltered, your shoulders slumping. Like any other feeling you’d felt for Jayce in the last two years, you pushed it away—relying on humor as a shield. People are too fickle; you liked your independence and didn’t want to get hurt. Not again.

You ignored that feeling in your stomach that said to not be mean to him again, you knew he didn’t deserve it. You just couldn’t help it. Without acknowledging the weight of his statement, you continued, “what do they do?”

He senses your lack of focus, hastily snatching the pages from over your head. They quickly found their way back into a folder and cast aside.

“Well…its for,” his eyes purposely avoided yours. The ceiling was suddenly really amusing.

“Way to leave a girl hanging,” you scoffed, turning towards the door. “I just wanted to check in, but I will come back when I am wanted I guess.”

You didn’t take him seriously. That wasn’t new, but the feeling of wanting to do something about it was definitely a unique occurrence.

Before he could grasp what he wanted to say, the words flew from his lips. “Sit down.”

You stopped in your tracks, intrigued and slightly turned on by the firmness in his tone. “Scuse me?”

“You should sit…sit down. Over there.” He gestured towards a couch he’d made in his workshop. You complimented him on it once, knowing he’d made it just because he could. That was something you liked about him, undoubtedly. He had the capabilities to do so much more than he could even conceptualize and you wanted that for him. But the hopes for his future, rubs on his back, and longing gazes were too much for you.

Despite this, you were never one turn down a man like him finally standing up to you. You shrugged, “Sure, whatever…I’ll sit.”

“Good.”

The man turned quickly to retrieve one of the items he’d drawn in his sketches. This specific one was made with you in mind. It took so much dedication to perfect, but little effort to actually create, really. He’d think of your time together, the praise that would leave your lips each time he’d even breathe near your clit. The way your body would writhe against his. It was intoxicating. He figured something to make that even more special for you was due. But how could he just keep giving to someone who didn’t want to truly have him.

He wasn’t brainless. As much as he loved to hear it, being a good boy felt demeaning sometimes. He was a man, and he wanted you in a way you refused to see.

He’d show you.

“Take off your clothes.”

Jayce explained to you once that the body had red blood cells, that they carry oxygen. It confused you, now, because you were damn sure weren’t bleeding all over his chair and yet every single breath in your body was gone.

“What?”

“Clothes. Off.”

“In a I’m gonna experiment on you kind of way, or we’re gonna fuck kind of way because-“

“Both.”

You didn’t want to seem too eager, but damn you wished you had less pieces of clothing on right now. As you stripped, you were grateful then for the warmth of the forge. The sudden chill on your skin caused you to shiver. Jayce appeared suddenly, something in hand.

“I am actually not sure what to call this,” he showed you the object in the palm of his hand. It wasn’t very large, or maybe his hands made it seem smaller, you weren’t sure.

“Thats okay,” you leaned back on the couch, “show me.”

He was on you immediately, an eagerness on his lips you’d never felt from him before. You were usually the one in charge. So when he pushed you flat on your back, his clothes still on, you felt the difference. He’d swung his leg over you, now straddling you. You were too distracted by the kisses trailing over you to realize he’d reached between you two.

He made his way around your neck and toward your ear. “Let me know how this feels.”

You gasped, a vibration hitting your body unlike anything you’d felt before. Jayce was skilled in many ways but this was—wow. You met eyes with him, words struggling to form in your throat. Your brain seemed to have been empty, too.

He let the feeling pulse before slightly circling you, teasing you.

“So this, is what I have been working on.” He surveyed the way you gasped underneath him, looking into the distance. “Its not quite done yet, but I had to change some things here and there to make it better. Ya know, make it ergonomic, not too loud, stuff like that.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you managed was a frustrated groan. He was pissing you off. How could he be making you feel this good and talking like a fucking nerd right now.

“I also thought about sensation…what you like,” he smirked a bit. He was proud of himself. “Sometimes when you’ve had a particularly hard day, slow and deliberate does the trick, right?”

He continued to press into you, urging an answer from you. It was quite interesting how the tables seemed to turn but he didn’t complain. This is what he wanted—you helpless and confused under him while he ruined you for anyone else. He was tired of hearing how you couldn’t be tied down. Jayce Talis was no idiot, you were holding back.

“Isn’t that right sweet girl?” At the same time he questioned you, he’d raised the speed on you. A buck of your hips immediately after. “You don’t have to answer, I know.”

Sweet girl. He’d never said that before. The undertone of him trying to rile you up while simultaneously being his usual endearing self was too much. Your hands had found your face, a sudden embarrassment looming over you. That didn’t stop him.

“But, because I care about you feeling good, I added another feature.”

You felt the continuous sensation increase sporadically and then back down, chocking out a whine.

“Intuitive right?” He used a free hand to brush the hair from your collarbone, latching his lips there. He spoke into your skin, “Essentially, I used the Hextech to not only control the stimulation but to work at the users command with little effort.” He paused, wanting to see you. “So when I do this,” a surprised yelp from you, “or this, you really feel it.”

He’d never been more proud. You were often one to lead him, and he liked it. But now, with you here helpless, he couldn’t help but urge you on. He continued to ramble, speeding up to a pace he knew left you unraveling.

You couldn’t take it. It took everything in you to get the energy to yank his hair and finally speak, “Jayce-“

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Can do,” and with that, he sucked down on your chest. He knew you’d loved that.

The entire ordeal felt like years when in fact, it had only been a few minutes since he started in on you.

“You go ahead and finish, I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t much longer before the heat in you exploded, a series of groans clawing its way from your vocal chords.

He’d continued to coax more from you, he felt he was owed as much.

Eventually sleep overtook you, the man recognizing the familiar lull that creeped up on you.

He spoke, mostly to himself, “we’ll talk later.”

You replied, to his surprise. “Sure thing, golden boy.”

part two

[yunhoex]

rowdy — smg (m.)

pairing ⇢ mingi x reader

summary ⇢ surprising Mingi with a visit on his birthday might just be the highlight of your vacation.

genre/au ⇢ smut, idk what they are lol

rating & word count ⇢ 18+ | 1.7k

warnings ⇢ making out, cowgirl (obvs), groping, fellatio, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy tendencies?, spanking, breast play

a/n: happiest 25th to the menace of my life 😩 i can’t believe he’s my first post here when he’s not my bias like fawk i saw him yesterday irl so nice to meet y’all ;)

birthdays are Mingi’s thing, not yours.

so he thought he was hallucinating when he sees you standing by the door, a huge smile on your face and open arms dangling with gifts.

“hi!”

you ran up to him, hugging him after which he reciprocated with a tighter one. he only released you after realizing you’re really here with him on his special day.

“you flew all the way here for this?” he wonders as he approaches a nearby chair to sit down. he removes his sunglasses as he waits for you to place the fancy paper bags on the carpeted floor.

you follow Mingi as soon as you're done, sitting on his lap and his hands wrapped around your waist like second nature.

“no, i was visiting someone nearby” you reply nonchalantly, placing your arms around his broad shoulders, squeezing them lightly as you position yourself comfortably on his lap.

“who?” his hands pause from caressing your sides, eyes averting as his hand slithers down and palms your bare thigh.

he's debating if he wants to know or not. finally looking up at you, he raises one brow and you mimic him.

“does it even matter? i’m here to celebrate your birthday” you dismiss his question, removing his cowboy hat before leaving a peck on the lips. you’d hope Mingi would let it go but his hand comes up to cup your jaw, returning your lips to his.

he bites your lower lip, coaxing you to let him in so you do. you never really kiss him like this but there seems to be an urgency with how his lips are capturing yours right now.

the questions start lingering in your mind but it’s his day so you’re gonna let him do whatever he wants.

“mhmm so how are we gonna celebrate?” he asks gruffly, his lips moving down the column of your neck, teeth busy nipping your skin while his hands are touching you everywhere.

you tend not to care about this type of thing so Mingi admits he's a little touched that you decided to visit him. though a part of him wonders who you could be visiting, he didn't dare press on in case your mood changes.

you’re quite rowdy, but he loves that about you regardless.

maybe Mingi's just overthinking because you could really be visiting a friend or a family member. why is he worried anyways? his getting anxious over this "what if it's someone else?" question and it's starting to bother him more than it should.

no matter, Mingi will just prove to you that he's better and that he's the best part of your visit here.

"how do you want me to?" you tease, giggling when his hot breath tickles your skin.

"you're here to surprise me right?" he counters, his husky voice now deeper than it usually is, sending tingles down to your pulsating core.

seeing him in that black fitted shirt and cowboy hat made you wet as soon as you arrived.

"well, you're already wearing my fave.." you ignore his remark, choosing to play with him a little bit more. this Mingi’s quite rare since he usually takes the reins. you’re taking advantage of the upper hand through this surprise.

his reaction earlier was undeniably clear so he couldn't possibly chosen this fit because you're coming.

“which one? i have most of them”

your breath hitches when his fingers switch to play on the tassels of your tube leather top. it’s a mere habit of his, unconsciously poking anything that attracts his eye and it’s affecting you a lot.

or maybe it’s cause you missed him a bit.

“hmm, this one” you give him a faux innocent smile, grabbing his belt and Mingi tries to suppress his excitement as he watches you unbuckling his pants.

you got off his lap so Mingi could pull down his denim pants and boxers, just enough to release his already swollen cock. it springs up towards his black shirt and you're salivating, kneeling between his legs at once to take it in your mouth.

“shiit, i miss your mouth baby” he groans, one hand coming down to grab your head. you hollow your cheeks, pushing your head deeper until his tip reaches the back of your throat. it had Mingi unconsciously bucking his hips, wanting for more.

you wanted to suck him off longer but you're honestly desperate to have his dick in your pussy.  you're enjoying your view, eyes fixed on Mingi struggling even though you're in the same boat. his breath heavies, a sign that he's close and usually you'd swallow but you have different plans for him tonight.

releasing him, you got up from your knees and shimmied your denim skirt and undies before returning to his lap.

"w-wait, already?" he responded hoarsely, mind too fogged to process what’s going on with his nearing climax. he’s not even gonna complain that you just edged him. he secretly likes it and he's sure you know how much he does at this point.

"yeah, can't wait anymore" you whine impatiently in Mingi's ear which causes a shiver through his spine. he's dazed, he always is each time he hears your seductive voice. he can’t even respond properly until he feels your wet pussy walls envelop him.

“fuck, you’re amazing” he breathes out before hurriedly pulling down your top. it took him a while due to it being tight on your body so you ended up chuckling, finding him cute.

you'd expect Mingi to curse in frustration but he latches his mouth on your breasts, turning your laughter into a series of breathy moans.

“mingi..” you clutch his shoulders as you begin rolling your hips. it's a struggle when he constantly kneads your tits with his large hands, tweaking the nipple that's not under his tongue. when he's somehow satisfied, he releases them and leans back at the chair, moving one hand down to your waist to guide your pace.

"what a fucking view..." he whistles, giving your ass a quick slap but he's groaning right after when you clench around his dick.

he's just too hot and the sting from his palm encourages you to bounce faster on his cock. his eyes remain on yours unless he's looking down to where your pussy's greedily sucking him in.

before you can even think of a response, Mingi's other hand crawls up from your chest towards the bottom of your neck, pressing lightly before wrapping his ringed fingers around your throat.

airy whines that were coming off from your mouth are cut of and Mingi thinks you look adorable like this. now that you're back to being putty under his hands, he's contemplating to ask his question again. he could edge you to get his answers but there's something stopping him.

he doesn't wanna find out though.

there's something different in Mingi tonight. aside from how he's looking at you, his touches are needier than usual. it could've been that he misses you but there seems to be an underlying worry there too. eventually, his fingers start loosening their hold around your throat so you take the chance to lean in closer.

leaving kisses along Mingi's jawline, your lips ascending until they reach his ear.

"cum inside me, baby" you whisper and he freezes, your words knocking out his breath.

"fuck for real?" he almost shouts, eyes widening until you nod, nuzzling his neck as you giggle again. he's still processing your words, not believing that you wanted him to finish inside you. both of you have been very careful since the beginning, always wearing protection each time you have sex so obviously, this is a big deal.

this must be your other surprise then and Mingi's gonna show you how thankful he is.

suddenly, Mingi's back into action. both his hands grip your hips as he fastens his thrusts, bucking up to you so fast that you have to claw your nails on his shoulders for balance.

"oh fuck, mingi!" you almost scream cause Mingi found that soft spot inside you and keeps hitting it with precision. you're so close but so is he, sensing your need to cum when his hand snakes to rub circles on your throbbing clit.

and when that band in your lower abdomen erupts, you collapse on top of him, resting your forehead against his as he reaches his own.

"holyshit babe, i'm cumming, ugh.." he warns then he bites his lower lip, dropping his head on the crook of your neck after as warm spurts of his cum fills you up.

“happy birthday.. mingi...” you greet him breathlessly as he continues rolling you on his softening cock. his ringed hands come down, groping your ass and you couldn't hold in more of your whines.

“best gift, best birthday gift, fuck” he whispers against your skin repeatedly, matching your moans when oversensitivity takes over both of your senses. you try pulling back so you get off him but he refuses to let go despite the slight sting of overstimulation.

still stubborn.

you huff but threaded your fingers along Mingi's hair instead, calming the both of you down from your highs.

"you're welcome" you smile at him brightly when you finally manage to pry his mouth from leaving wet kisses along your collarbone.

"come sleep in my room" he pouts, not even bothering to look at you.

"can't, my flight's in a few hours" you match his pout but you see his lips forming into a frown. he's so adorable when he sulks that you can't help but relent.

"but maybe, i can rest for a bit" you continue, realizing that you don't really wanna make Mingi sad on his day.

"okay, i'll order some food. actually whatever you want!" his smile is back, enthusiasm coursing back into his veins after hearing that you'll stay. sure, probably only for a few hours but that's enough for Mingi to make up for the time that you missed together due to your busy schedules.

"aren't you supposed to be celebrating with everyone?" you query, redressing quickly so you won't waste any free time you have with him.

"already did so now it's only with you" he curls his arm around your waist, putting back his cowboy hat and sunglasses on with his other hand.

the smirk on Mingi's handsome face should tell you that this night's far from over. well, it's still his birthday so he'll continue to celebrate until it's over. maybe even after if he gets lucky, he'll just make sure that he will be your last stop.

e/n: this is unedited since i'm tryna post this within his birthday and i'm recovering rn oml. the concert def helped for inspo 😩so i hope y'all still like this tho!! <3

[lovingseventeen]

Hiii hope you're well 🫶🏼

I really really loved the svt doing your make up 🥺 honestly getting make up done is so relaxing and it can be so intimate (me when lol)

I have a suggestion for a svt reaction bec you see I have a thing for hands, like the hands are one of the first thing I notice about a person so I wonder how svt would react to their s/o randomly grabbing their had and kissing it 🥹

randomly kissing svt’s hands 🫶🏽

a/n: HI ANON i LOVE this request omggg. i have so many things queued but i HAD to write this rn rn

edit: i’m literally biting my lip as i write this bc FAWK this is such a cute idea i need all of these men’s hands in marriage rn

seungcheol:

❥ he loves holding hands so he doesn’t question when you grab his hand

❥ he’s about to lace his fingers with yours when he feels you bringing his hand up to your face to kiss it

❥ but he does malfunction a little bit because his brain is thinking: wait i’m supposed to do that to you

jeonghan:

❥ you can hear his typical “ayy” as he watches you

❥ he won’t admit that he’s a little flustered

❥ you only find out that he is when he tucks his hair behind his ear and you notice that the tips of his ears are pink

joshua:

❥ watches you with the most endearing smile

❥ lets you do you what you want but still leans in close to your face and asks, “what’s this for pretty baby, hm?” AAAAAAAA

jun:

❥ so so confused but he doesn’t pull his hand from you (because he never would)

❥ “what’s this?” he asks as you’re bringing his hand up

❥ “mm, nothing babe” you hum, placing a light kiss to the back of his hand

❥ “oh, okay?” he replies, pink dusting his cheeks

hoshi:

❥ LOVES IT

❥ blushing so bad but he isn’t even embarrassed

❥ goes “oo” as your lips make contact with his skin

❥ “does this mean you have a crush on me?” he jokes, making you drop his hand and smack his arm

❥ but ofc he catches your wrist and pulls you into him so he can properly kiss you

wonwoo:

❥ you could do anything to him and he’d go with it

❥ smiles as you kiss his knuckles

❥ he might not comment on it but he’ll give you a few extra kisses that day

jihoon:

❥ you were chilling with him in the studio as he was going over his work

❥ without thinking about it too much, you took his hand to give it a little kiss which grabs his attention

❥ he hums in surprise and he’s so flustered that he’s immediately asking “am i not giving you enough attention today? i’m sorry baby give me a minute-” as he’s already starting to close some tabs on his desktop

❥ “oh, no! jihoon, i just felt like doing it!” you quickly explained, but he’s still closing off his things

❥ “i’ve done enough work today anyways” he decides, assuring you

minghao:

❥ so so giggly as the slight foreign feeling of your lips brushing against his hand

❥ so smiley even as he’s asking “what’s this? you don’t usually do this”

❥ hair ruffle right after you do it

mingyu:

❥ you tease him a little as you run your thumb over his knuckles

❥ he’s wondering what you’re doing but it’s also not entirely new

❥ it’s when you’re lifting his hand that he’s already blushing because there’s no way you’re about to do what he’s thinking

❥ “what’re you doing? baby, what’s this?” right as you hold eye contact and kiss his hand

❥ for a pretty big and buff man, he feels like putty in your touch, he’s covering his face with his free hand because he can’t even look at you with how pink he’s getting

❥ “so i can’t even kiss my boyfriend’s hand?” you tease

❥ “not when it makes me like this!” he whines (definitely do this to him again)

seokmin:

❥ you couldn’t help but kiss his hands god they’re so pretty AAAAAA

❥ for seokmin, you took both of his hands in yours, making him raise his eyebrows, “oh?”

❥ casually, you place on kiss to his left, then one to his right and his eyes follow your ministrations

❥ best believe his heart is hammering and he’s blushing madly

❥ “do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, swearing that he’s falling even harder when you coyly shake your head no

seungkwan:

❥ you kind of adored him when he was in a state of rambling about his day, even when he was tutting about the member teasing him but especially when you could tell that he felt like he did well. you were watching him from your couch as he paced your living room

❥ but there’s a moment when his eyebrows are furrowed because he’s talking about this dance move that he’s supposed to do on top of singing something quite difficult

❥ “it’s supposed to go something like this..” he murmurs slowly walking you through the dance steps, quirking his head as he wonders how he’ll do it

❥ he plops down onto the couch next to you when he’s finished walking you (and himself) through the whole chorus, leaning his head back. “i just don’t know how-”

❥ you take his hand because he’s so clearly stressed and place a kiss to it. his words stop as his face heats up from the sudden gesture

❥ “why all of a sudden?” he murmurs, looking away from you because you caught his so off guard

❥ “because my baby’s so stressed and i know you want to avoid getting wrinkles” you chuckle

vernon:

❥ also so chill with it — would also probably let you do anything to him

❥ a small smile as you randomly kiss his hand

❥ “this is new” he observes, smiling wider when you giggle

❥ “just felt like it, why, is it weird?”

❥ he shakes his head, “no, not at all”

chan:

❥ “w-what, what is this?” he’s mumbling as you unexpectedly take his hand and kiss it

❥ “just wanted to give you a kiss” you reply simply

❥ he’s so pink but he’s trying to quickly think of a way to recover

❥ “well, why don’t you give me a real one” he decides, surprising you by pulling you into him by your waist

[norikuna]

GOO GOO MUCK #2 — jujutsu kaisen x reader choose a storybook to open. aka my mythos take on jujutsu kaisen.

you've turned the page to: CHAPTER II. GETŌ SUGURU go back to the table of contents.

why are they all trying to make me a saint? oh god! oh god! i want to do things. stop turning me into a saint! andrei tarkovsky, journal 1970-1986

prologue. → a mortal man wears the skin of a serpent and wields dark sorcery with a lover's ease. suguru geto promises you a throne, a seat by his side and a kingdom on its knees. you understand why cautionary tales are written about foolish gods who gave their power away for silken chains, for those who would tear them asunder.

pairing. serpent king!suguru geto x goddess!reader (sfw!)

song inspiration. goo goo muck — the cramps / little dark age — mgmt

warnings. geto is manipulative as fawk, kind of dubious, suggestive behaviour from mr. suguru geto, angst, very much the premise of a dark romance, ambiguous and tragic ending, kissing word count. 2.6k

a/n. daphne write a happy ending challenge failed again but i can't help it teeheehee

ask/comment/dm to be added to a taglist 🩵

mp3. when the sun goes down, and the moon comes up, i turn into a teenage goo goo muck!

how can man claim a god?

the ancient texts say he can chain them, bind them to his own wills and desires.

the world around you sharpens slowly, revealing an altar carved from stone as old as time, with dark mineral veins that run through it, gleaming faintly in the dim light. the chains that have bound you are wrought of a metal that you do not recognise — neither iron nor silver, but something darker. and it feels almost alive. an ancient and all-consuming magic. each link is inscribed with cursed energy, winding around your wrists and ankles, cold to the touch and yet searing with power, holding you fast with a grip that sinks through flesh and bone. it has tethered your form.

the air is thick with dampness, the heavy scent of earth and rot mixes with the subtle perfume of nearby flowers, sickening sweet. you blink as you focus on ghostly white blossoms hanging on twisted and skeletal branches, each petal aglow with an otherworldly pallor. to your left, a pool of water shimmers in the stone hollow, black as midnight, with a surface that barely ripples — waiting and watching.

then, a sound — soft at first, but unmistakable in the silence. the faint swish of fabric moves in steady, deliberate strides. the one who has dared to summon and call you onto this mortal plane? but the air grows colder as the figure draws near, and he steps into view.

it is no lowly feat to summon a deity in a shrine, and an even greater feat to bind them, with such chains of power. you have never paid attention to the tales of mortals, little and less truly, but the serpent king is known. suguru geto is known for interfering with the divine plans for humankind, determined to wipe them out for his own misguided gain. your captor's violet robes catch the faint light, shimmering dark as they brush against the damp ground.

he steps closer, and for a moment, your wrath stills — because of him. the ghostly glow highlights his face, the sharp angles and fine lines as though he were chiselled from marble. it is the kind of beauty that mortals sing of in legends, a face that the gods themselves must have blessed, sculpted by divine hands. you wonder, fleetingly, if one of your brethren sired him, some forgotten affair between a deity and a mortal.

he draws near with a slow, sinuous grace, his movements almost serpentine, fluid and deliberate, his violet robes brushing against the floor in rhythmic waves. even his eyes—narrow, predatory slits of deep amethyst — glimmer with a strange, hypnotic gleam, unblinking as they take you in. mortal he may be, but here's something undeniably reptilian about him, something ancient and unsettling that lingers in the way he tilts his head, his gaze unwavering and utterly still, like a beast considering its prey.

a fierce snarl tears from you, and the stone walls echo your wrath. "do you know the price of chaining a deity, serpent?" you hiss, your words laced with venom. "do you understand what fate awaits one who dares to keep me captive?"

the air shivers with your warning, cold seeping into the air, yet he only observes you with that same unnerving stillness, a flicker of amusement gleaming in his narrow eyes. suguru geto tilts his head, a subtle, slithering motion, and reaches out with long, graceful fingers to test the chains binding you, his touch deliberate and controlled.

without warning, he leans in close, his breath brushing against the curve of your ear, soft and almost hissing. "you misunderstand me, goddess," he murmurs, his voice silken, carrying a subtle, hissing undertone. "i do not fear the gods. i have spent lifetimes defying them, one whisper at a time, one spell, one ambition." he pauses, his lips curling into a dark smile as his fingers trace the chains that bind you, "i will never be a god. but with a goddess at my side," suguru geto smiles, almost sincere, "a queen, i will be as close as one could ever be."

the gall of him, the sheer recklessness in his claim, strikes you like a spark to tinder, a hot rage flaring in your chest.

the audacity of him, the nerve — a mortal man, no a creature of shadows and serpentine, thinking himself worthy of even whispering such a treasonous thing.

"how dare you," you snarl, and each syllable drips with scorn, "how dare a mortal, a mere man, even think to claim one of the great pantheon as his own! you think yourself a king, but you are nothing. i am beyond you — beyond the hand of any man," and you writhe in the cursed chains, "i almost pity thy foolishness, arrogance of the highest order."

but suguru geto's laugh is dark and rich, and he does not even flinch. no, he does not even blink. his robes have a strange and mesmerising ripple. the folds undulate like liquid, shifting and folding in ways that no mortal-woven cloth should. nay, it is no fabric at all. it is skin, serpent skin — sleek and glimmering, slithering in tune with the man who has draped himself in it.

despite yourself, you shiver and in that moment, suguru geto leans down, lowering his face to yours. and his breath is warm, and soft against your skin. this is the closest that a mortal has ever gotten to you in eons.

"do you know how long i have waited for you?" he murmurs, and his words are hushed, almost a whisper — dripping with desire and laced with honeyed sweetness, "how long i have searched for someone who could stand beside me, for power and beauty? you call me mortal, so you will not fault me for my weaknesses, then. is it not my nature to chase after perfection?"

his eyes have locked with yours, mauve and endless, "i am not a god, but i have still seen lifetimes pass, but nothing compares to the burn i feel when i kneel at your altar, for your worship."

suguru geto's hand grazes the chains around your wrist, a feather-light touch that is almost gentle in its caress, as if testing your resolve that you do not sear through his flesh, "do you not see that i offer you a kingdom?"

the air between you is thick, and it is a traitorous heart within your chest that continues to beat at a quicker tempo. you have not missed the hunger in his eyes, and it makes you furious. by what right does he find the courage to speak to you like this? you have heard of others like yourself, others of your kind. gods and goddesses who threw away their divinity to be in the arms of mortals, those who offered something that the cosmic simply could not.

you fight it, your pride flaring, but something in his gaze makes you hesitate. there is a flicker, just a flicker, of doubt. of wonder.

what is it like to be loved like this? to be seen as something worth so much, even by one so dangerous, so impossible?

geto moves closer still, his lips brushing against your ear, his words now a soft promise, a murmur of desire. "you will come to me, my queen," he whispers, "for no man has ever loved you as i will. you are destined for me, and you will know no equal but me. no one else will ever touch you the way i will, feel you the way i will. only i can give you the eternity you deserve."

a flicker of doubt dances behind your gaze, a single, fleeting question pulling at the edge of your mind.

what is it you truly seek, serpent king? you are no fool; the gods know of your sorcery, of your schemes, of the wars you have stirred, the chaos you've unleashed, and the suffering you've caused. what greater ambition drives you, to bind me to you with sweet promises and the touch of your smooth, serpentine hands? is it truly a throne beside you, or something far darker that you covet, something more dangerous than a queen at your side?

"you are a goddess,” he murmurs, his voice a soft purr, "but do you see what the gods have done to you? you, who should have had a throne at the heart of the heavens, have nothing. you were left to drift, to be forgotten by those who claimed to love you. they never gave you a seat, never gave you the respect you deserve. but i… i see you, goddess. i feel you. and I will give you a place, a throne, beside me, where you will be honoured."

the heat in his voice stirs something deep inside you. how dare he? how dare he imply that the other gods have wronged you? what does he know of the beginning of the world, of the start of creation where the gods ran free on the green earth? your anger flares again, and you draw in a sharp breath, ready to fire back, to unleash the words that will tear him apart.

but before you can speak, his hands move, slow and calculated, slipping along your sides, the burn of his touch sending a jolt of something electric through you. his fingers, like liquid fire, trace the curves of your waist, the pressure so gentle yet undeniably possessive. the sensation makes you tense, makes you forget, even if for a moment, the chains that bind you. you shift, instinctively trying to pull away, but he only tightens his grip, coaxing you back toward him with a soft but unyielding pressure.

you would never — never — be swayed by this mortal’s charms.

and yet, the heat between you, the pressure of his hands against your skin, makes your words falter. you don’t understand it, the way your heart quickens, the way your breath catches in your throat. his touch, slow and deliberate, feels like fire and ice, and your body betrays you, trembling under the heat of the sorcerer's presence.

his lips brush your ear, soft and tantalising. "you are mine. always were meant to be."

you want to pull away, to demand he release you, but his fingers now run down your sides, the delicate pressure almost tender, as if coaxing you into submission, his touch a slow, sinful caress. each brush of his fingers sends a wave of warmth surging through you, and your breath catches, unwilling to admit how much you crave this sensation.

but what you do not realize — what you are too distracted by —is the spell he is weaving. his hands are not just teasing, not just caressing. they are binding, weaving an ancient magic around you, a net that tightens with each passing moment, each whisper of his voice. his dark powers wrap around your divinity, subtly pulling at the very core of your being, drawing it from you, sealing it into a cage of twisted magic.

you are caught, and you do not know it.

his lips are now mere inches from yours, his breath warm and inviting, the heat of his body an undeniable force. he leans in slowly, deliberately, as if savouring the moment before he seals your fate. "no one will ever love you as i will,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, but it trembles through you like a spell. "no one will ever see you as i do. and when you are mine, completely mine, you will know what it is to be cherished."

and then, his lips brush against yours.

the moment his lips graze yours, it is not a kiss of gentleness but one of purpose, calculated and slow, as though he is savouring each second before claiming you fully. his breath is warm against your skin, rich with a subtle sweetness, like honey mixed with something darker, more intoxicating. it is an invitation and a command, both at once.

as he leans closer, his body shifting with a fluidity that hints at something serpentine, something unnatural, you feel the very air grow thick with tension, as if the world itself is holding its breath in anticipation. his long hair, now fully free, cascades like midnight silk over his shoulders, and as his breath fans across your cheek, you can almost hear the faint hiss of it — like the whisper of a serpent’s tongue.

it is a kiss that coils around you, not just in the physical sense but in a way that makes your very being feel entangled in him, in his essence. his mouth is soft yet firm, warm yet cold, and the subtle pressure of his kiss sends shivers down your spine, like the touch of a thousand slithering scales against bare skin. it is not a kiss born from affection, but from domination — an assertion that he will have you, body and soul.

his hands, those impossibly smooth, long fingers, still move over your sides, but now, they feel like they’re not just caressing — they are pulling, shaping you. as his touch travels over your skin, there is a sensation of something prickling just beneath your flesh, as though his hands are drawing magic through your veins, weaving it into you, entwining it with your very essence.

the kiss deepens, slow and unyielding, as his tongue gently traces your lips, teasing the edges of your resistance.tThere is a strange coldness to it, a chilling presence that seeps through the warmth of his lips, as though he is not merely a man, but something far older, far more dangerous.

and then, with a sudden press of his body against yours, you feel the full weight of his power settle over you, the coils of his magic slipping into your mind, into your heart. his kiss becomes possessive, desperate in its insistence, and just as you feel the last remnants of your will begin to bend, a sharp, silken flick of his tongue inside your mouth sends a jolt through you — a pulse of energy that feels like a serpent's strike.

it is then that you realise it. for the mortals will write tales about this, use you as a cautionary lesson on the want and greed of the gods. and how easily they fall.

geto's kiss is not just a kiss — it is the seal of your fate. his power, snake-like and subtle, unfurls within you, sliding beneath your skin, taking root. you feel your divinity, your strength, slip away from you like water through your fingers, each drop being absorbed into him, into the snake who has become your captor.

the spell is complete, as his magic entwines with yours, twisting it, stealing it, leaving you powerless against him. his kiss pulls away just as you feel the last trace of resistance drain from you, leaving you breathless, weak, and utterly bound to him.

as suguru geto draws back, his lips curve into that wicked, knowing smile, and you see it now — his pupils, once narrow slits, have widened, glowing with the faintest light, like the predatory gaze of a serpent preparing to strike. his skin, pale as moonlight, seems to shimmer in the dim light of his realm, like the scales of a great serpent, and for the first time, you realise that this man — this king — is the serpent he claims to be. how could the gods have been so naive? so foolish?

and you, now bound to him in a way far deeper than any chains could ever hold, are his prey. your divinity, your essence, your power — it all bends to him, to this mortal man who now stands as your captor, your lover, your king. the serpent has claimed his queen. and you, despite yourself, feel the chains tighten, forever.

[reveluving]

If requests are still open I have one... Graves is having sex with his wife, and Price is watching them and he touch himself 😈 And his wife notice that Price is there but she can't say it to Graves because he makes her moan so much with his dick buried into her.

Are you TRYING TO KILL ME??? BECAUSE THANK YOU?? FAWK. 💀

Includes: wall s~mut (minors DNI!), soft (& slighly mean)!graves, mentions of nude polaroids, voyeurism & exhibitionism, licking, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v)

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Being invited for dinner by the Phillip Graves was not on their bingo card.

Not that they didn’t like him, he was a good sport, almost like a brother, as evidenced by the good-humoured banter he has with them, especially with Johnny or Alejandro. But if he didn’t always go “can’t wait to see m’wife after this shit ends” every time they work together, then they would’ve assumed he was a casual hookup kind of guy.

So to be proven wrong when he took a polaroid of you—you hugging Kai, who was sulking at the doorway as it rained—out of his pocket, along with the silicone wedding band around his finger, well, it was safe to say they were pretty surprised. 

The SFW polaroid, of course, not the other ones.

Those were for his eyes only.

The invitees included the 141, then Laswell, along with Alejandro and Rudy, who were in town for work. God bless Graves for being ahead of them with the accommodations, not far from his house.

And as their day offs rolled around, you, on the other hand, got to work.

As usual, you did an amazing job with the food, from the proteins that he’ll help you cook once the party starts, down to the endless amounts of sides to choose from—the kinds that were both filling and bursting with flavour, an instant approval from the Southern blood in him. Somewhat enough to ease your worries about your hard work not being enough.

Meeting you had them wondering how a man like Graves managed to put a ring on a sweetheart like you. But the heart eyes they would catch in his eyes every time you were close by told them everything they needed to know about just how much he cares about you.

Of course, none of you could ever forget Kai, already rushing over to you at the front door when he thought he was going to go for a walk, only to perk up even more at the sight of more people.

More people meant more pets!

But back to the two of you; seeing you work together, balancing, with Graves’ more outgoing personality and you being soft-spoken yet perceptive, especially with his friends’ plates, it was all so… homey. No worries, no strategies, just smiles and laughs and gossip. 

After dinner, just as Graves expected, the team was astounded by your backyard patio—the perks of being married to a florist. The comfortable outdoor sofa and the small yet charming garden arrangement; everything well taken care of, plus the string lights added to the comfortable aesthetic feel, especially by nightfall. 

It took little effort to keep the conversation rolling, in addition to the snacks you had prepared with the beers. 

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered before kissing his cheek hastily, much to his amusement. You took your leave, only to scurry away at the door when he winked at you, uncaring at the thought of his friends catching his displays of affection.

But seeing his girl getting along with his friends so well? Her warm smile? Her cute little attempt to hide her laugh behind her hand? Putting her heart and soul into her cooking and her hospitality in general, despite your bashfulness?

Well, it was only fair to say thank you.

Graves-style.

Not even ten minutes after you entered the house, he stood up.

“I’m gonna check on the missus for a bit,” He waved his hand at them without looking as he headed to the sliding door, “You guys hang ‘round.”

And then, Price felt the need to stand on his feet, but not before scratching behind Kai’s ears one last time before the pooch moved to Gaz for more pets.

Price excused himself, saying he needed to splash his face a bit. He’s not drunk, far from it, but it has been a while since he’s had a relaxing time like this. And like the rest of the crew, he was not willing to miss out on the coziness of your home.

But the surprises never stopped when he heard a squeak, your voice unmistakable, just before he could turn the corner, where the kitchen, then the guest bathroom were. 

He didn’t dare to take a look at first.

“Phil!” He heard you yelp, followed by a drawn-out moan that you were trying to suppress in your husband’s shoulder. 

But fuck, your voice was so tantalizing.

Price held his fist against his mouth with his eyes closed, unsure if he was trying to drown out the sounds or put more focus on it. Then, his ears perked up at the squelching in between the fast-paced pistoning of Graves’ fingers in and out of your pussy.

The captain’s morality began to chip away, going just as insane as his friend when he chuckled evilly in your ear.

“Gettin’ a lil’ shy, pretty girl?” He didn’t make it any easier for you when he licked a large stripe up your throat, “S’alright, they’re just enjoyin’ themselves back there. ‘S just you and me.” 

You were already whining, albeit muffled as you bit your bottom lip as he held you up against the wall. With the way he was slapping your entrance, watching you with a knowing smirk, you knew he wasn’t going to hold back.

And as embarrassing as it was for Price to admit, he was thankful for it. Pumping his cock in his hand, following the same rhythm as the wet slaps of your hips. Your moans were just as hypnotic, short gasps and mewls every time Graves thrust back into you deeply. His tongue licked up the thin perspiration gathering on your exposed skin. 

Price was precise with his peeking, only doing so whenever he heard your muffled voice—when he was certain you were resting your head against his shoulder or even kissing him.

Those pretty lips.

But in the midst of his pleasure, he wasn’t careful enough, cursing under his breath while holding his firm grip on the tip of his cock when he heard you gasp, no doubt catching sight of him when he hid back behind the wall.

And yet, his feet were too heavy to move. Glued in his spot.

Praying to see more of you. Hear more of you.

Literally anything more.

“P–Phil,” Your nails massaged across your husband’s scalp, a silent plea for him to listen.

But you were too cockdrunk to even think about stopping him, let alone attempt to say a single word.

“Hm?” He hummed against the crook of your neck nonchalantly, slowing down his pace, but bottoming out just as deep to hear to whine, “Want me t’stop, baby?”

No. No no no. 

He couldn’t hear you, not with your incoherent babbling, but if you thought he didn’t understand what you were trying to say, oh, you couldn’t be any more wrong.

He wasn’t blind to the lingering looks some of the men gave you, not especially the captain’s. And though he had always known Price as ‘old-fashioned’ with his manners, he’d be stupid enough to think his courteousness with you didn’t mean anything more. 

But who could blame him? You were one in a million.

And when he, too, caught sight of the familiar figure before it hid behind the wall, he knew his suspicions were correct. 

And unless you told him to stop, to use your safeword, he wouldn’t even dream about pulling out. Not until he gets to feel it clench and quiver against him. To see your cum, both yours and his, dripping, even after he’s pulled your panties back up.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” He held your chin, a mix between a coo and a sneer. He snapped his hips once again, drawing a sputter out of you, “Do you want me t’stop?”

His smirk grew when your eyes darted sideways, knowing Price was still there, watching you being unravelled and ruined, then humming in delight when you finally answered.

“No.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[crguang]

ocean eyes

You’ve never seen the ocean. Kafka introduces you to it.

fluffy as fawk, recycled the idea from that fic but it’d be like a prequel technically, 2.3k words

A/N: couldn’t stop thinking about kafka loving the sea she’s made for me atp. title only makes sense because of the other fic lol

The sea breeze washes over your being, it caresses each strand of hair and softly touches your skin like gentle hands cupping your cheeks. You feel it in your ears, a sound you’re hearing for the first time; its warmth seems to enter your lungs and clear it of past impurities with every inhale, and you wish to take a deep breath to keep it inside your chest forever.

The sensation leaves you immobile. In front of you, the ocean. A myth come true, its beauty rivaling Idrila’s. It’s vast, bigger than your mind can comprehend even after so many years spent traveling the cosmos, and a deeper blue than the sky it’s reflecting. Water has never been so alive, with waves crashing on the shore and currents on the horizon, you are facing an entity larger than life. Its depths create and harbor life that you won’t ever get to see. Your mortal eyes can only perceive a fraction of it, so small and significant. You didn’t think it was possible for water to kiss the sky, having the proof before you fills you with wonderment. Among it, some strange feeling nestles in your throat. You stand as it curls around your vocal cords and leaves you mute. Words are useless in front of something so grand, you realize, they fade away as if they've never existed at all. You lose yourself in cold blues and the occasional whites of flying seagulls, in salty air that quickly becomes your favorite scent, and you can’t speak for a long moment.

Lithe fingers, laced with your calloused ones, tighten their hold on your hand. It takes a couple blinks to tear your eyes away from the boundless sea, and you turn to Kafka’s fond smile. She’s watching you, drinking you in like you’re the precious sight and not the limitless expanse of water on the coast. A thumb swipes over the crease of your eye, lingering at the corner for a second too long, and you realize she’s wiping a tear away.

“Oh,” you exhale softly, bringing your free hand to your face. Your cheeks are wet with silent tears and you sniffle as you wipe them from your skin. “I didn’t even notice.”

“What were you thinking about so intently just now?”

You look back at the sea, an ache in your throat. The sun hides behind thin clouds and paints the world in soft colors.

“I was wondering if my planet was ever this pretty. I wish my mother could have seen it.”

Your home world fell victim to a Stellaron, like plenty throughout the galaxy. It dried most of your rivers and evaporated many of your lakes, transforming seas into lands full of sand. Water was a limited resource and a tedious thing to acquire. You remember stumbling on a picture book with various shades of blue filling some of the pages and asking your mother about it. That evening, she explained the ocean to you; never-ending, deeper than mortals can comprehend and filled with creatures your childish mind could merely compare to alien life. You thought she was making stuff up, maybe embellishing a mundane truth, but she spoke of the sea with the same tenderness she used to tuck you into bed. As you grew, you understood that it was longing in her words, a deep desire for something she would never experience in this lifetime. To you, it felt pointless to yearn for something she didn’t know; your mother was born long after the Stellaron infected your planet and spread its cancer to the roots of your world. You didn’t understand how this desire was born, where it came from. Yet, in her eyes resided a wistfulness that was only extinguished the day she died. She left the waking world longing for the sea, and memories of her constrict your chest as you stand at the edge of it.

Kafka hums, pivoting to face the water. A gentle silence settles between you as you watch the waves rise and fall on the shore. Her bare palm is warm against yours, it grounds you to the sand beneath your feet. Seagulls make a grating sound, you discover, but even their squawking can’t ruin the view before you. You feel a sudden restlessness to touch the water, to have it envelop you entirely until you feel yourself disappear in it as if absorbed.

“Can we go in the water?”

Kafka smiles. “Sure.”

Your hand slips from hers and you step out of your slides, sinking your toes into the hot sand of the beach. Sand is something you’re familiar with, it reminds you of your mom and your broken world. Comfort fills you with every step towards the waves. Kafka follows beside you, used to the sights and the sensations. She comes here every summer, but this is the first time she’s brought you along. You understand why she’d want a place like this all to herself, it brings forth a sense of serenity best enjoyed in solitude. Or, at least it did, before. Before experience brought you closer.

You hesitate somewhat once you reach the water. Your feet are submerged in it and suddenly its vastness becomes a little terrifying. Kafka walks in further until she’s standing waist deep in the water, circling hands creating ripples around her. She turns to face you with a silent question on her stretched lips.

“…I don’t know how to swim,” you confess uselessly, prompting a chuckle out of her. She knows that, obviously, since you’re unfamiliar with large bodies of water.

“We can stay on the shallow end. Don’t want you drowning on my watch, I’d get in a lot of trouble with the others.”

Kafka holds out her hand. You take it with some reticence. She brings you close enough for wet fingers to squeeze your waist affectionately. Her easy expression makes you at ease, she seems different on this planet, more carefree. She’s not wearing her contacts and her ponytail is lower than usual, its tie looser around her long locks of hair. You’re privy to a side of her you had no idea existed and you’re honored by the trust she puts in you.

“Nice, right?”

“It’s cold,” you reply, looking down at your wobbly reflections.

“Mm, I like it.”

You dip your hands beneath the water and turn your palms to the sky. Algae brushes against your calves as you move around. Kafka lets you explore, head tilting back to face the sun. You venture a bit further until your neck is the only thing sticking out of the water. Impulsively, you squeeze your eyes shut, pinch your nose with two fingers and sink into the water. Every sound is muffled in your ears, and in the darkness everything is pointless. This is different from a shower or being caught in the pouring rain, you feel light. weightless, insignificant. You wonder if that’s what your mother longed for, this freedom to be anything and anyone, drifting through the boundless sea. You emerge with a little gasp, rubbing the water out of your eyes before blinking them open.

You’re careful not to stray too far from where Kafka is drinking in the faint sunlight. Her eyes are closed when you glance back at her, chin tilted to the heavens. Her shoulders have turned a rosier color from the sun and her dark, backless bathing suit contrasts beautifully with the clear ocean blue. You walk towards her, flicking your wrist to send water flying her way. Her brows twist for a second before she looks at you with a small smile. Kafka always smiles a lot, more often than not to unsettle her opponent or prey, but there’s a softer edge to the ones she’s had since you arrived on this planet.

“What do you usually do here?” You ask, moving closer to her.

“Float. Wanna try?” Kafka holds onto your waist when you’re close enough to reach, pulling you towards her. “I can show you.”

“I don’t want to drown.”

“You’re not going to drown.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Kafka playfully rolls her eyes and takes hold of your chin with a few fingers. Her gaze follows the movement of her thumb across your jaw, then flicks up to meet yours.

“I wouldn’t let you,” she says, leaning in to press her lips on yours in a soft kiss. Your eyes flutter shut as her mouth slowly moves against yours. She pulls away after a moment and looks at you. “Do you trust me?”

“At times.”

“Well, trust me now.”

One of her hands is placed on the small of your back to support you, the other gently guides you onto your back by applying pressure on your chest.

“What if I float away,” you say, a tinge of panic enveloping you, and you grab her wrist to stay upright.

Kafka can’t help the amusement on her face. “To where?”

“Far, I don’t know.”

“Would you miss me?”

You pout. “It’s a valid fear to have.”

“It’s really not.”

“What if I float to the deep end, then it’s too late to come back and I drown because I can’t swim?”

Kafka looks at you for a moment, eyelids lowering and an amused smile on her lips. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like she’s thinking of something funny.

“What?” You ask, eyes narrowing.

“You killed three flying beasts twice your size at once, last week. You're scared of a little water?”

“Fuck you,” you try pushing her away, but she only presses you further into her with her arms around your waist, a laugh escaping her. “There’s nothing little about the fucking ocean.”

“Relax,” she drawls, “it won’t work if you’re tense.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Kafka curls a hand around the back of your neck and suddenly brings you closer to capture your lips with hers. Her head tilts to kiss you better, and you can’t focus on anything but the sweet kisses she presses against your mouth. Your wet hand trails up her spine, causing droplets of water to slide down her back. Your lips part to deepen the kiss when her tongue swipes over your bottom lip. You forget the argument, your muscles relax as her chest touches yours, and by the time she pulls away with a soft exhale through her nose, you almost forget your surroundings. You chase her lips as she leans back, planting a few more chaste kisses on her mouth. She indulges you for a minute, the fingers on your nape tightening their grip for an instant. You’re breathing heavier when she separates from you for good and smiles.

“Now, let’s try it again, mmh?”

Kafka teaches you how to float in the water with firm hands and occasional teasing jabs to which you would respond if she wasn’t the one standing between you and drowning. In the end, you spend most of the day at sea, learning how to keep water from going up your nose without using your fingers and the basics of swimming. Your fingertips are pruned hours later as you emerge from the water. Kafka’s still under— you bet on who could hold their breath the longest— so you dive back beneath the surface as quietly as you can. She calls you a cheater afterwards, but you distract her with wet, slippery kisses.

You’re drying yourselves on the beach as the sun sets below the horizon. You sit on your towel next to Kafka, who’s reclined on her elbows. Her eyes are closed, not a crease between her brows, and her head is tilted upwards. Before, you thought she was sunbathing, but now the temperature is slightly lower than this afternoon and the sun is no longer visible in the sky. You think perhaps she’s simply enjoying the sound of the waves and the salty air like you did earlier. It’s funny, she hasn’t told you what this place means to her; it clearly holds some sort of significance if she returns to it annually. Her way of revealing herself is unconventional at best and a little clumsy, like a fawn taking its first steps. She presents you the sea, this part of her she keeps hidden from everyone, and says nothing else. You watch the lines of her nose, the curves of her lips and their pretty pink color. Her face is bare from any makeup, her hair loose and her expression so relaxed she might’ve been asleep. She’s beautiful. You’re no longer gazing at the ocean, though you feel a familiar sense of wonder as you observe her. Your heart is light in your chest and you suddenly understand how your mother could yearn for something she’s never experienced before.

Kafka’s eyes slowly blink open. She tilts her head to meet your stare with a smile, and you long to love her like your mother longed for the sea.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

You nod. Your limbs move before you can stop yourself; you straddle her waist, sitting on her lap and snaking your arms around her back. Kafka lets you bury your nose in the crook of her neck, using a hand in the sand to support the both of you.

“What’s that for?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice as you breathe in the smell of the sea on her skin.

“Nothing,” you lie, pressing a kiss to her skin.

Your mouth trails up her neck to her jaw, tasting salt, and Kafka hums when you kiss her lips. It feels different to kiss her after getting acquainted with the ocean because you finally have something to compare the weightlessness that overwhelms you with each of her fervish kisses. A hand tangles itself in your hair, pulling you closer until she reclines on the ground and your body follows without missing a beat, lips locked.

You pull away to breathe in, only slightly, reveling in the sensation of her hand up your back.

“You’ll get sand in my hair,” Kafka mutters into your mouth.

“I’ll wash it for you.”

On a deserted beach and with the sea as your witness, you kiss her until the moon ascends in the sky and the waves grow stronger behind you.

[wintersera]

THE GISELLE THOUGHTS ??? I am going crazy giselle does not get appreciated enough and her thighssss, plsss write a longer fic where she corrupts reader and makes her ride her thighs? 🏃‍♀️

notes: readers a virgin and aeris a little bit of a pervy creep.. also this is like almost noncon? ATP this is a full fic like oopsies my bad- i meant for it to be an imagine but i got carried away

cw: dubcon, corruption kink (hope i did it well 😭), innocent!reader, thigh riding 🤤

man… it was 3am and you were bored as hell. like bored as fawk ://

the last days of summer vacation had you exhausted even though you really didn’t do much. and lord were you tired from well… being tired. your best chances of getting rid of your boredom was to contact someone, yet no one you liked was online. just a couple of people you knew from class because of a project and that was about it… thats so fucking boring 😭

sitting up and thinking in your emptied and rotting brain, you pace around your room wondering what you should do. like if it was some miracle, your friend, bestest friend- aeri was online.

opening up your dms you find that she beat you to it- her messages appearing as soon as you opened the app.

NOW, you were excited as hell. not seeing aeri in ages bc of college and whatnot, you felt your heart skip a beat because of some short message she sent. oh you gay ass- anyways, you get to see her again and you couldn’t contain you excitement. now if you had a dog tail it would be wagging so hard rn.. yes, you were that excited to see her.

after a while she pulled up in your driveway like the hot ass bitch she was, yeah sunglasses on even though it was almost pitch black outside (she actually put them on before she saw you open the door) she wore a white baggy tshirt on and some shorts and that was it. it was hot all day and the cool night breeze really helped with that “you just gonna stand there? or… are you gonna come inside”

“you gonna let me have the aux?” she giggles at you, nodding as you duck your head to get inside her car.

the sky was pretty, the view was gorgeous and even she looked stunning, the moonlight highlighting her sideprofile,,, lawd have mercy she was so ethereal.

—

throughout the entire journey you were pouring your whole soul out to girls generation songs,, i mean fr, you were belting out the notes like mariah carey- it was that serious for you 😭 and aeri yet looked at you with fondness in her eyes… funnily enough you looked like a hot mess in front of her. a thrown on tshirt and some shorts you found on the floor bc she came around too early,, way too early, she looked at you as if you were the prettiest mf ever, a slight blush on her face. aeri thanked all things holy that it was dark outiside, she thought that you would notice her blushing at you and your silly antics- even though you were a little dense that you would never think that your bestie was thinking of so many nasty things.

you didn’t realise it, but she had her hand resting on the top of your thigh, massaging your flesh ever so lightly, however your dumbass was too occupied with gee (STREAM GEE BY GIRLS GENERATION) aeri could feel her face heat up, she knew touching you like this was so wrong, but when would she ever get the chance to touch you ever again? the way you weren’t even paying attention made her think she could get away with it. she couldn’t help the way she thought of you, you looked so damn pretty and she had to ravish you.

all of a sudden the car jerked… then stopped in the middle of fuckass no where.

“aeri?”

“we’re here-“ she huffs

“i can’t see anything?”

“don’t worry you’re pretty little head about it, just come out. the view is actually nice here” but she knew she was lying. getting you out of the car was one thing, shoving you into the back seat was another- as soon as you were thrown into the back, aeri had also placed herself on the seat next to you, the corner of her lips tugging up ever so slightly “don’t be scared just… come here” pulling you closer by the front of your shirt.

aeri was strong as fuck- like she was strong STRONG using her bigass hands to pull you in by the waist… 😵‍💫 why exactly did she lock the car with you and her in the back? was she planning to murder you or something? is that why she called you out so early in the night? all these questions kept circling around in your head, you couldn’t exactly understand her intentions and you were scared to death.

a cold sweat ran down your temple, ohhh you thought you were fucked… but now she’s moving you onto her lap? your face meeting hers, her hot breath hitting your neck when she nuzzles into the crook of it “aeri…?” a painfully slow hand caresses your hips. shaking, no, shuddering in her grasp, you felt terrified and confused as her hands wondered across your hips to your bare back “you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this… just you and me” her voice low and raspy. her hands rested back down onto your hips, squeezing them in a way that made your stomach coil.

“i-i don’t get what you’re doing.. let me go aeri” frantically looking around to see if there was any escape, to your misfortune there were none and you were utterly fucked. the grip on your hips became stronger- clearly she didn’t want you to leave “let me go!! aeri please” she felt mean,, seeing you so vulnerable and weak, yet that didn’t stop her. firmly holding you, she moves your hips back and forth across her thighs, eliciting a squeek from you.

“what was that?” a chuckle from her

“what’s so funny? aeri, you’re so fucked up”

another chuckle.

innocent… aeri had the strongest urge to completely destroy your innocence.

again she rocked your hips, this time pressing you down on her thighs harder “a-ah… feels funny” you couldn’t explain it, but there was this weird heat between your legs whenever she moved you against her. it felt alien, yet you didn’t deny that it felt sort of felt good.

despite your pleas she continued to make you ride her. you were an emotional wreck, you felt so fucking scared but at the same time you felt ecstatic. tears fell from your eyes and stained her shirt yet she kept going and going, going so far until you began rocking your hips yourself.

eventually you were fucking yourself on her thighs all by yourself. aeri noticed that and laughed, taking her hands off of your hips and wrapping them around your waist “h-huh… why’d you let go?”

“enjoying yourself? thought you were begging me to stop… or did you secretly want me to do this to you”

she stopped you with another firm grip

“do you want to feel good?” you nod embarrassingly, it felt good… and you wanted more of it, although you didn’t know why it felt like electricity lit your body up.

“mmm..”

“move on your own then” oh the embarassment, the humiliation. you were so innocent that you didn’t know how to move by yourself. aeri had to guide you bc you were sooo clueless, yet here she is telling you to do it on your own while she watches you crumble.

“i don’t know how…”

“figure it out.. you want to feel good right? just move your hips like you did earlier” and you do, moving in slow circles as the fabric on your soaked panties hits your clit in the best way possible.

watching you with a keen eye, aeri felt aroused by you. your innocence slowly fading away with each moan and each thrust, seeing how you pressed your body closer to hers unconsciously and how the way your eyes glistened from the tears you previously shed. you looked like a hot mess and she was glad she contributed to it.

your movements became faster and sloppier, your sighing turned into whimpers and eventually into moans. an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach formed “mmm.. ah- aeri? aeri… coming.. feels like somethings coming”

you stopped abruptly, you felt something rush head to toe, making you scream out aeri’s name. arching your back into aeris embrace.

after a while you calmed down, coming back to reality and shit- aeri just looked at you with a huge grin and hoisted you off of her. eyeing the mess you made on her legs you, again, panic. this time it was more out of concern rather than fear “i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wet myse-“

“it’s not pee dumbass, you came- anyways, did it feel good?”

“it’s not pee?? and what??? also… yeah it felt good…”

it’s safe to say aeri drove you home. you blacking out from waisting your energy on getting yourself off- and because she’s ur bestie she has spare keys to your door. princess carrying you into your bed and making herself comfy in it as well. you and her slept for the god knows how long.

i mean moral of the story let your bestie fuck you i guess idk.. sorry if it seems rushed </33

[samfucker]

sam and darlin hcs yappee!!

part 1 , part 2 (angst 🔥) , part 3 <- my masc darlin hcs IF U EVEN CARE.

sam does the thing that (good) dads do where they buy a lot of one item that you like. darlin hyperfixates on food and loves it

sam traces and kisses darlins scars. darlin kisses the scar from his car accident

sam has a birthmark on his shoulder blade. when darlin holds him from behind while he's cooking or while he's the little spoon, darlin kisses it gently

sam always cups one or both of darlins cheeks when they kiss, and darlin always kisses his palm after

in the early stages, when they'd dance around each other, they'd call each other and both feel all giddy and stupid like a bunch of teenagers. sam's cheeks would hurt from smiling

darlin would get butterflies if their knuckles brushed against sam's while they walked. they still do.

they bump feet under the table

both touch starved. both love to touch.

sam can't handle too much spice, darlin loves spice. they put hot sauce on their scrambled eggs, sam is horrified.

sam sneezes like a dad.

they wear each other's clothes. (my darlin's taller)

darlin likes to trace sam's features while he sleeps. sometimes he's awake, but he pretends

darlin chronic pain and sam who drops everything to make sure they're okay. he tries to feed them himself and they get embarrassed (they eventually let him.)

darlin has a bunch of piercings. sam has either only one ear or both ears pierced

darlin has bitten nails

darlin double knots/double ties their laces and always manages to slide their foot in easily without untying. when their laces somehow came undone they were mad as hell

sam snores and darlin can't sleep without it

sam's honestly had the same style his entire life. the first time he wore a band tee it's cause it was darlin's

slow, sleepy sex

also. i've been obsessed with unexperienced bi sam and masc darlin. like sam grew up in the south (i think... IDK WHERE MONT BLANC IS FAWK ITS MADE UP!!!!!!!! anyway) he grew up with homophobic family and stuff and then BOOM... decades later he falls for a man for the first time and doesn't know what to do with himself. i lurv. anyway do yall hate me

anyway pt2 not a hc but if we're friends i love u

[alphabetboyluvr]

masterlist

all fics are posted to wattpad first (don't judge a girlie by her primary upload platform </3)

i write about the stars, boys who are carved like greek sculptures, and the inability to communicate in a healthy, functional manner. and i also like to write about bangtan sonyeondan in relation to all of those things.

WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD

no translations | minors dni | don't be a dick x

JJK

SERIES

THROTTLE

pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers synopsis: in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you. current wc: 160,244 warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.

BAD DECISIONS - link will take you to the clubdionysus tumblr!

pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb synopsis: it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free. the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy. jungkook, a fear of rejection. and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions. current w/c: 450k notes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds 2024 note: wattpad took down bad decisions as part of their 2024 purge </3. it's now hosted on it's very own tumblr (clubdionysus) and over on ao3!

BAD DECISIONS SMUT INDEX

ONE SHOTS

extended - 5k words or more

ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader synopsis: your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out wordcount: 5.8K notes: angsty, smutty turmoil. it’s not that bad, but it definitely isn���t a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that’ll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

LANDSLIDES

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers) synopsis: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. wordcount: 6.8K warnings: fluff more than angst, but it’s not clean cut - there’s also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you’ve been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

something borrowed

- mafia au | forbidden love

dance with the devil

- royalty au | former lovers

KNJ

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

back to you

- idol au | exes

KSJ

MYG

SERIES

HUSH

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?) synopsis: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops ! current w/c: 17.5k notes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean… a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you’re jin’s sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he’s sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it’s cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

PALLADIUM

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut synopsis: min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.   wordcount: 3.2K notes: three part series, fluff, angst, eventual smut, yoongi is incredibly conflicted, the oc is just as dumbfounded by the way she feels, lots of feelings!!

JHS

PJM

KTH

ONE SHOTS

short - under 5k words

sundae (kinda love)

- childhood friends | angst

[becauseitsyouandi]

my personal jalex fic recs because fawk, jalex maaaaan

Because you can never get enough jalex <3

♡ 𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤 ♡

OTP by Save vs. Magic ✿ Season 3 ✿ COMPLETE ❀ 'With 'Charmed and Dangerous' set to become a movie, Alex is shocked to discover the books based on her life are wildly popular. Even more shocking is what some fans are reading between the lines. And most disturbing of all? Justin might be one!' ✿ OMG. I love meta and I love Jalex, but more importantly I love realistically written Jalex where they don't want to jump each others bones as soon as the fic starts, so this is my #1 recommendation in a multi-chaptered fic if you think to yourself, wait, how in the F do they even start to realize they like-like (lol) each other anyways? Soo well-written, Save vs. Magic is a stellar author who has wrote plenty of gems for the jalex comm <3 After you read OTP, I recommend reading the Easter special for OTP A Handshake With God. So funny and a cute taste of Jalex's after.

Reflection by TheWolfHourx, TwistedWizards ✿ Post Season-4 ✿ IN PROGRESS ❀ Woooo boy, what to say about this one--- it's sexy, incredible sexy. Risque and full of tension, Alex is stuck in the You-niverse with daaark, eeeeevil Justin, who wants to make her his. She is living my dream! It is unfinished, and I want to give a disclaimer that it ends before they do the deed, so if you're okay with mild blue-balling, this is an awesome read that's not juuust smutty goodness yum, but has well written Jalex that makes you root for our main couple (and sexy evil Justin is there, did I mention sexy evil Justin?)

'More Transparent Than Water And Thicker Than Blood' Series by pandorium ✿ Season 3 to Post-Series ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Ooooooof. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster ride, my heart! Sweetness, and heartbreak, and then sweetness. A series of one shots span from post-movie codependency to Jalex as adults. Don't worry-- a happily ever after awaits with this one, even if the journey to get there for our two siblings is a bit long.

Something like Forever by someryn ✿ Post-Movie ✿ COMPLETE ✿ Two-part series that has Justin's POV Leave The Ashes, it's a look at how Justin and Alex cope, well fail to cope with the traumatic events of the movie. Alex struggles to communicate her emotions in Alex fashion, Justin is her steadfast brother who looks at her for just a bit too long, and there is sweetness and the perfect amount of spice added in (just a pinch). Delicious Jalex awaits with this fic <3

Truth Spell by saveyou ✿ Post-Movie ✿ IN PROGRESS ✿ This is an AU where Justin runs away from home post-movie--and only Alex knows why. It's an interesting set up, but last update was in 2010 and it ends off sorely unfinished. But it is a nice read and I enjoy how Alex and Justin are written.

˚ʚ ♡ 𝕠𝕟𝕖-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 ♡ ɞ˚

Holding Back the Night by Nerissa ✿ Post-Movie ✿ More like hold back my tears when mentioning this fic! This is my #1 Jalex fic recommendation-- it holds such a special place because it fueled my Jalex obsession to unstoppable levels. The ultimate codependency trope fic for Jalex in my opinion. The conversations in this fic are so so cute, tender and emotional. This is the hot-chocolate-your-grandma-gives-you of a Jalex fic. Lemme re-read this fic now <3

so what if you catch me, where would we land by ladytahiri ✿ Child to Adult Jalex ✿ 'Justin and Alex's lives unfold like a butterfly in reverse' ✿ Starts off on an amazing hook with Theresa catching Justin and Alex in a compromising position, and traces back through the blossoming of Justin/Alex's relationship, to when they were just children. Mwah mwah a billion chef kisses!

reach out and touch someone by omens ✿ Season 4 ✿ “Careful, Justin; that almost sounds like ‘what are you wearing territory?’ there.” ✿ AKA Justin and Alex are horny teenagers, Justin is away at college, and late-night husky phone convos ensue. Sign me tf up!

Hands That Touch The Wrong Things by TheWolfHourx ✿ Season 3 ✿ 'This obsession. This painting. Something about this screams at her louder than all her other paintings. Something inside her rips and roars and howls.' ✿ Angst and pain in Alex's POV as she grapples with her feelings post-Puerto Rico. She uses painting as an outlet for her desires she can't express.

Louder than sirens by popsongnation ✿ Post-Movie ✿ 'The feeling stays with her as time goes on, the need to touch him as often as possible. She knows he feels it too.' ✿ Uuuugh author why must you slay me! Codependency trope done so so well it hurts! Secret handholding and rapidly tangled feelings, my heart squeezes in pain for our two sweethearts.

[hp-hcs]

I just had a Crazy thought. Idk if I’ve EVER read a Ton Riddle x ftm Reader before and now I’m CURIOUS. Pls （＾ν＾）

yk, i dont think i’ve ever seen one either 🤨 which is some BULLSHIT if you ask me

ANYWAYS i have no idea what this is but yk i actually finished something so that’s pretty girlypop. also GODDAMNIT i need more tom using 40s slang

phoenix tears (chapter three of phoenix tears) — 40s! tom riddle x ftm! dumbass! granger! reader

he’s babygirl i don’t make the rules

problem solving by creating more problems, a case study by harry potter and y/n fr

glad to see all of the ftms have found my acc, i love all of y’all mwah

TWs: ‘40s era homophobia; couple of outdated homophobic slurs; i guess tom misgendering reader? but he like, doesn’t even know what being trans is so-

requests? please? i beg??

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What’s this?” You pulled a wrinkled old book out of Harry’s trunk, sitting down on the wood floor of his dorm, crisscross applesauce.

The cover must’ve once been very fine leather, but it was now warped with water damage and age. The pages were brittle and seemed liable to disintegrate at the lightest touch. But the most prominent part of the book was that there was a charred black hole right through the center.

“Huh? Oh- Tom Riddle’s diary. His very first horcrux,” Harry glanced up at you from where he was also sat on the floor, desperately trying to organize all of the shit that was in his trunk to begin with.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Nope, not in the slightest.”

You opened the cover, the leather creaking and cracking under the slightest pressure. You were surprised to find that the diary was completely blank inside. You flipped through a few more pages; nothing. It was totally empty.

Unless Tom Riddle had only written in the center of where the odd, charred hole was. Which was, y’know, pretty unlikely.

“How’d you destroy it?”

Harry frowned to himself, trying to decide if Runes homework from two years ago should go in the keep or throw away pile. “Basilisk fang. Has Ginny seriously never told you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide. He grinned at you, handing you a stack of various important-looking documents mixed in with past homework assignments to go through, and immediately dove into his story of shallow teachers and secret chambers and blood on the walls.

You gaped at him in awe as he finished his story. “But wait- if Fawkes’ tears were all you needed to like…heal and not die, would the same work on the diary?”

Harry paused, looking up at you. “That’s…a good question.”

“Think we should try?” You asked. “Maybe Teenager Tom could talk some sense into Adult Tom?”

Harry seemed to genuinely consider it before shaking his head. “Ach, but Hermione would kill us.”

Your shoulders dropped and you frowned as you think about your sister. “But…she’s at the Burrow tonight, remember?”

“Well,” Harry said slowly, still on the fence. “If Hermione’s not around to scold us...”

~~~ “This was a terrible idea this was such a terrible fucking idea-”

The diary smoked and hissed, writhing around on the floor. The book flapped open, the pages ruffling around and fizzing.

Scrambling backwards, you clung onto Harry, praying Slughorn wouldn’t walk in. Or worse, Filch.

You’d snuck into the Potions classroom after curfew, hidden under Harry’s invisibility cloak, with the intent of finding phoenix tears. After going through Slughorn’s potion cabinet, you'd found the vial all the way in the back. Which, of course, had led to you two deciding to test your theory about the diary right then and there.

The diary suddenly made a pop noise, like someone cracking bubblegum. It then stilled all of its movement, lying open at the center of the book, when a dark liquid, ink, began seeping out from it. The ink pooled around the book, turning all of the pages black and heavy.

You mentally cursed the stain it would leave on the flagstones.

The diary then erupted with a bright light, rattling against the floor with the exertion of whatever magic it was using.

Harry pushed you back behind him, forcing you to sit down and throwing his invisibility cloak over you, then pulling out his wand. Taking an offensive stance in front of where you were hidden, he waited, every muscle in his body coiled like an animal waiting to lunge.

The light seemed to grow thicker, like honey, and started taking a corporeal form. Then just like that, the light vanished, and the form—a person, by the looks of it—crumpled on the floor in a rather undignified heap.

The person staggered to its- his feet.

Tom Riddle, you thought, holding your breath.

God, he was pretty.

He started laughing, seemingly unaware of neither you nor Harry’s existence. “O Lord and butter, now we’re cooking with gas!”

You blinked. All of that was English, but not a single word of it made sense.

How old was Tom Riddle?

Harry took a tentative step forward, hiding his wand behind his back. “Are…you alright?”

Tom whirled around, startled by the sudden voice. He looked Harry up and down appraisingly before a wild grin spread across his face. “All reet? A schnook done brought me back!” He laughed rather maniacally, eyes gleaming. “What’s your name then? I oughtta thank you.”

Harry’s lips thinned. “We’ve met before, Tom.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised. “We…have?”

Wordlessly, Harry pushed up his fringe.

Tom drew in a sharp breath. “Potter.”

“Riddle.”

“So what, you’ve brought me back to kill me again?” He sneered. “There’s no basilisk around to save you this time, Potter.”

When Tom took a step towards Harry, you gasped quietly—evidently not quietly enough though, because Tom’s head swung around towards you.

He stared straight at you. You held your breath again, praying that he’d go back to threatening Harry, or something.

Instead Tom stepped closer to you, mumbling a quiet Revelio. He smiled and leaned down, tugging the cloak off of your head.

“Well well well, what’s this? A spook?” He pulled the cloak off of you completely, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Hm. Well aren’t you a bit of a scrag, cookie?”

“I’m…sorry…?” You questioned, baffled. “I don’t speak old.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a bit plain and homely, doll,” he said with a mock-apologetic look on his face. “In the nicest way possible.”

“Aw, shucks,” you said dryly. “I was worried the genocidal maniac who’s killed a bunch of our friends might think I’m unattractive.”

He raised an eyebrow at your sarcasm, looking you up and down again. “Ah. Or are you a swish?” He asked, tilting his head. “Can’t quite tell.”

“A swish?”

“You know, a queer. One of those.”

You cringed. “Harry, make him go back in the fucking diary.”

“Did I hit a nerve, doll?” Tom asked with a smug smile.

“Not really, but I have a feeling that if I have to deal with your ancient ass any longer, you will.”

“Ooh, well ain’t you got moxie, little thing? Tell me, you a dame or a fella?”

“Ah yes, the two genders,” you mumbled under your breath, causing Harry to snort and cover his mouth with his hand. “I’m a uh…‘fella’.”

“You sure look like a gal to me.”

“Yeah, and you sure look like an asshole to me.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see. You’re a mudblood, aren’t you?”

“Lot of sass coming from Mr. Pureblood over here.”

Tom took a striding step towards you, his teeth gritted and his fist raised.

“Wow, resorting to Muggle fighting? Wouldn’t expect that from you, Thomas Marvolo.”

His cheeks flared red with anger. “I oughtta-”

“It really sucks being made fun of for your blood status, doesn’t it?” You asked casually.

Tom paused.

He took a step back.

“All reet. I’ll admit, you got me there.”

Harry scowled. “Look, we wouldn’t have brought you back unless we had good reason. And Old You is now indiscriminately killing Muggles, which seems like a pretty fucking good reason, if you ask me.”

“Ah. Yes. That does seem to be an issue,” Tom acquiesced. “But why me?”

“We figured you could reason with Old You?” You jumped in. “Or at the very least, you’re the least corrupted; you have the most soul left.”

Tom shrewdly glanced between you and Harry, then back at you. “What do I get in return?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. What do you want?”

“Not to go back into that damned diary,” he said vehemently. “Never again.”

You glanced over at Harry. He shrugged. “We can try…?”

“Hipper dipper,” Tom replied dryly. “Where do we start?”

~~~

“Well that’s a barney old game the old coot’s been making you play, huh?”

“You’re just saying words,” Harry mumbled, resting his chin on his hand as you all sat at one of the Potions classroom tables. “Not a single part of that was comprehensible.”

“He basically just said that you’re fucked,” you shrugged. “You’ve been doomed to die since you were born. Dumbledore’s been raising you like a lamb for slaughter.”

Tom looked at you, surprised. “Well…yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Smarter than I look, Thomas.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll stop as soon as you you stop calling me a fairy.”

He furrowed his brow. “Why’s that bother you so much?”

“It’s a fucking slur, Thomas. This ain’t the forties, or whenever you’re from; people are allowed to be gay now.”

Tom froze, eyes wide. “W-what?”

“Yup.”

“Well, cut off my leg and call me shorty,” he murmured, amazed.

“Wait’ll he finds out you’re trans,” Harry mumbled, snorting.

You elbowed him in the side, rolling your eyes.

“Trans…?” Tom questioned.

“We don’t have that much time, Thomas. Focus up.”

“Natch, all reet,” he shook his head. “Are we ready then? Plan all set?”

You nodded, a sly grin spreading across your face.

“Let’s go fuck some shit up.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

chapter four

[elliemarchetti]

My AU Headcanon: after surviving the attack on their house, James had constant nightmares about seeing Lily & Harry dying & Voldemort, Wormtail and Snape taunting for failing them, despite being the great James Potter. It hurt Lily to see her once happy and mischievous husband be in so much pain.

I'm alive! Risen from the ashes like Fawkes!

Lovely anon, thank you for your patience and for sending this prompt, which allowed me to write James from another perspective and analyze his marriage with Lily with a more mature eye.

As always feedback and other suggestions on how to continue this (or any other) story are welcome but I'm also open to having a chat, exchanging headcanons and making moodboards and playlists for your favorite characters/couples.

Words: 700

After years of uncertainty and terror, with heavy casualties on both sides and entire bloodlines wiped out, the war ended, and the Wizarding World celebrated with displays of fireworks and jubilation. He Who Must Not Be Named was dead, just a corpse made of skin and bones buried beside his father in a forgotten graveyard, his remaining followers were locked up in Azkaban, and peace reigned once again, an outcome Lily failed to truly believe in as she held little Harry to her chest on the darkest nights, in fear it could be their last moment together. They had been lucky to survive Pettigrew's betrayal, something he did not, and Lily was grateful for every quiet day she was allowed to live, but James hadn’t gotten over the tension and the constant fear as well as she did. When there was light outside, from breakfast until he put Harry to bed, everything seemed fine despite the purplish dark circles under his eyes, and at work he was his usual mischievous self, at least according to Sirius, but when he got under the covers, once he had given a kiss to his wife and they both turned off the lamps on their respective bedside tables, he became a mess, clinging to her body as if she was a lifeline. The nightmares hadn’t given him a full night’s sleep for months now, and if sometimes he didn’t feel like talking, if sometimes the only thing that soothed him was sinking into Lily, taking her in desperation, letting her gentle words of encouragement and muffled moan ground him, during others he was more inclined to dialogue.

“He killed you,” he had murmured one night, heavy tears sliding down his sunken cheeks. “You were dead, and he… Harry… I couldn’t do anything but watch.”

It was like this, between stammers and fragmented sentences, that Lily discovered what was plaguing her husband’s sleep, a sense of guilt he shouldn’t have felt, an anxiety he couldn’t leave behind.

“It’s not my fault, Snivellus, it’s not my fault!” he had shouted on another occasion, before sitting up in bed, his forehead drenched in sweat.

“Dad?” Harry had called from the small corridor dividing their rooms, rubbing his eyes with the small fist.

“Dad had a bad dream, love,” Lily had quickly explained, as he guided him back to bed. “Every now and then it happens to adults too.”

“Can you give him this, then?” her son had asked, with the innocence only children possess, handing her one of the stuffed animals he usually slept with. “It will protect him from monsters.”

“He will appreciate it very much,” she replied, taking the fuzzy Welsh Green, his favourite birthday gift from uncle Remus.

“Did I scare him a lot?” James asked, defeated and worried, as soon as she closed the door behind her.

“No, but he wants you to have this, to protect you from monsters,” she answered, passing him the stuffed animal. He stared at it for a while, as if seeing it for the first time, or glimpsing something in his black plastic eyes, and then he hugged it tightly, curling up his knees and bowing his head until his dishevelled hair almost touched his arms. Seeing him like this, it was evident how young he actually was, how the weight of the carefreeness the war took away from them weighted on his hunched shoulders.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, breaking the heavy silence engulfing the house. “I wish I was stronger, I wish I had been able to do more, but instead I had to hide like a rat, I had to wait for others to defend my family for me.”

“We’re all alive, and that’s enough,” was all Lily could say as she caressed his bare back, where the bones of his spine visibly protruded. When had he gotten so thin? When, among the pile of things he had to care about, had he stopped considering eating a priority? Just two more questions to add to the thousand she would have to find an answer, a solution, to alone, so as not to break the young man who that night slept hugging his son’s stuffed dragon.

[fallout-friends-react]

If you haven't done it already, how would the fallout 3 guys act around a lone wanderer that he has caught feelings for and what is his initial reaction to realizing that he HAS caught feelings for the lone wanderer?

This specifically says guys but I'm doin' everyone lol

Butch: It started as really small things. The way Lone looked by the campfire light. Hearing their voice call his name. When they worried about him after a fight. All these things made him feel.. something. He was never quite sure what that feeling was. Until one day, Butch sat against a wall, catching his breath after a long day of walking. With no warning, Lone crouched in front of him, "dude your hair's all messed up." They started fixing his hair for him. The closeness made his heart lurch. He instinctively threw his head back, smacking it against the wall. "Holy shit are you okay??!" Lone worried. "Yeah I'm fine. Whatever." Butch held his head in his hands. Thankfully they couldn't see his beet red face.

Clover: Clover has always liked Lone, from the second they got her out of Eulogy's grip. Her affinity for them wasn't much of a secret either. She loved to hang on them, and flirt with them whenever she could. The longer they traveled together, the more she really started to care for them. The moment she knew she really liked Lone, was when they pointed to an old pre-war dress and told her it would look good on her. She doubled down on her physical touch and flirting, to the point that it started to get annoying.

Charon: Charon and Lone's relationship was complicated. They held onto his contract after all. He was bound to them whether he liked it or not. They were never unkind to him though, and he never took it for granted. On a routine visit to Underworld, Lone was busy in the general store. Charon, waiting outside, was asked by a resident how Lone was treating him. Thinking over his memories of them, he realized just how much they meant to him. With an imperceivable smile on his face, he replied simply, "they treat me well."

Dogmeat: idk why I keep adding the dogs at this point lol

Jericho: Being the cold, hardened old man that he was, Jericho didn't feel many girly emotions. (as he would put it) LIKING someone has been outside of his realm of possibilities for decades. He would never admit it, but he developed a soft spot for Lone. Going out of his way to make sure they stayed healthy. He'd often cuss them out for doing stupid things that could've gotten them hurt. It didn't seem like it, but it was how he showed he cared.

Fawkes: Fawkes would never call his feelings for Lone romantic, though he definitely cared for them. They saved him from his confines. They were possibly the only person willing to have a civil conversation with him. He often mentally cursed at himself for not being able to do much for them, other than protect them from harm. He didn't know how important that one thing was.

Star Paladin Cross: Cross has known Lone since they were an infant, sort of. Romance between them never crossed her mind, but she certainly loved them in a way. She was especially protective of them. Always sure to check if they were wounded after a fight. Always making sure they were eating and sleeping well. Though sometimes it was a little overbearing.

[lahotelbellamuerte]

𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗟 𝗢𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗡 - floor six. her scorching touch

series masterlist ! current: her scortching touch ! next: ! !floor under construction!

pairing; slight five x phoenix warnings; phoenix being a menace! crushes beginning to grow word count; 5.9k notes; I forgot to post this one, some pls teach me to count what the fawk LOL!

GROWING UP WITH MONEY would usually mean having a much easier life. And for the Magnolia's that was only partially true. They were able to buy their daughter a much easier time with her disability. Getting her teachers to help her heighten her other senses. Teaching her how to defend herself from those monsters who were after her. 

For a long time, Phoenix hated being alive. She hated the fact that she was gifted such powerful abilities, but wouldn't be able to see. Never got to experience seeing the sunsets or the sunrises. But she couldn't blame her mother or father as her birth was a unique occasion. 

Like some of the other kids in the world, she was born through a mother spontaneously. And once her mother found out a rich man was flying around the world to buy them. She did all in her power to make it so that her daughter was hidden from the man. Something deep within her felt the man was deep danger. 

Ella was able to give her daughter a normal childhood, well as much as a blind child with powers could have. 

After the incident on the cliff, one would think people would feel bad for Phoenix. But it seemed no one really did. It gave them more of a reason to hate her. Each and every day they found something new to torment her. 

Shoving and pushing her into lockers, and walls. Calling out names in the halls, taking her cane, and glasses, and throwing them. All jokes to make her life any harder. What's worse is no one else stepped to help. Not faculty, not students, she had no one. 

So after some girls had drenched her with water in the bathroom, she decided that had been it. Walking out of the school she walked and walked never looking back. Throwing her bag on the floor in anger. 

"What did I do that they hate me so much?" she huffed walking further the down the road. 

Hair and clothes still dripping, "It was a stupid accident! Did they think I just killed them for no reason? They beat almost to death for crying out loud," she had been talking to herself ranting.

She ran her hands through her blonde hair and sighed, "And I'm the bad guy? They were going to kill me and call in an 'accident'"

Out of frustration she stomped her foot and screamed loudly. Covering her ears and clenching her eyes shut in anger. 

Somehow she didn't hear the crack in the air as she disappeared from the country she was born in. After calming down for a while she looked around, "Okay where the fuck am I?" she whispered. 

Now, not to be a bore or anything, but this was the first time she had properly moved a far enough distance with her abilities. Sure her mother did her best training her, but let's be real. How is someone who has no ability going to train a girl who is blind and has the power to destroy the universe?

Yeah, exactly you don't. You hope for the best and that she isn't evil. And that she won't willingly destroy everything in existence. 

Let's just say that little old Phoenix was far from home. I'm sure you remember her mentioning how she was a whole-time hopper. Well, it started at the ripe age of twelve. The first location was Yosemite forest in California. It took her about two days to get out. 

Rather than being worried about her safety, this was the first time she had felt free. So she took it to be a sign and continued to jump from place to place for about 20 years. 

You read that right, she was thirty years old running around fulfilling her freedom. In those years she was able to learn more about herself and her abilities. Reigning them in to be fully in control. 

Learning to fight with efficiency, without breaking a sweat. And best of all to fuck around and do all the things she wanted to do. 

Visting all the Disneys (California, Florida, Tokyo, France,) she enjoyed being able to use her blindness to get all the things she wanted. The real world was much kinder than her schoolmates. Going to national parks, learning new languages, well to speak them that is. 

It was all fun, even when the whole Commission got on her ass about not traveling in time. She loved the chase of cat and mouse. They never won, always had to return home in a body bag. 

The Commission was evil, but breaking in was one of her favorite things she ever did. 

Twenty-two-year-old Phonix had dyed black hair and round black glasses on her face. Long sleeve turtle neck matched her black ankle pants. Not to forget the converse on her feet. Oddly no one questioned her as she walked right in. 

They all smiled and waved calling her Eight. She hummed to herself, thinking herself more of a nine in a half. But no matter walking into the building she moved to a room that had plenty of books. The manual of some sort, shoving it in a bag she brought, then ran her fingers thorugh the spines. Then her eyebrows raised as she felt bumps on her spine. 

It was braille, who would've thought? Careful to choose only the ones she needed she stuffed her bag and left the room. 

"Eight where have you been?" an older woman with white hair asked. 

The girl froze and smiled, "Oh you know around..." she replied. 

"Are you on a mission? You have an accent, and also changed the appearance," she said gushing a little too much for her liking. 

Phoenix gave a fake nervous laugh, "Oh how did you know? You are so good at your job, doing..." she paused and was silent for a while, "...Stuff."

The older woman paused and blinked for a moment, "I truly don't know what your husband sees in you," she then replied walking off in the opposite direction. 

After the woman was long gone, Phoenix took a breath, "Who is this lady that I look like apparently," she mumbled walking down the halls. Waving and nodding as others greeted her, "Seems she's popular too," she grumbled at the end. 

Room after room the dark-haired young adult learned new things, well using sound more than anything. Luckily this place was full of televised or voiced things, and people were way too willing to help. 

When lunch rolled around, she sat on the roof of one of their buildings, with a bento box she stole from someone down there. 

"You're not Eight," a very British voice says near her. 

Phoenix paused in her eating, "And you know this how?" she asked then paused, "Not that I'm confirming or anything." 

The Brit snorts, "You have an Australian accent that is way too natural for boring-ass American Eight to do," she starts walking closer to the young woman, "And the bag beside you has many stolen books. Some in braille, and I know blondie isn't blind." 

Phoenix finished the tray of food and put it down, raising her hands, "Alright you caught me, what are you going to do?" 

"The names Lila by the way," she paused, "I won't do anything, I'm just bored from all the rules sticklers." 

Standing from the ground, she stuck out a hand, "I'm Phoenix." 

Lila laughed, "Like the firebird?" 

The Aussie nodded, "Yup the whole burn and be reborn from your ashes," she replied picking up her bag and then walking off. 

"Wait I know who you are!" Lila called catching up to the girl, "You've been causing trouble all through the timeline, you're lucky they haven't sent Eight after you yet." 

Phoenix turned her head and snorted, "My doppelgänger? What is she going to do?" 

Lila shrugged, "She's one of the best agents in the company. Never failed a mission." 

"Yikes, that means she has killer instinct aye?" 

"Never hear the end of it from my mother, she says I should be more like her. But won't let me meet her," Lila replied as they began descending the stairs. 

The young girl turned to Lila and pat her shoulder, "Well if she's never failed a mission that means she sticks to the rules," she started with a frown on her face, "I, on the other hand, have fun," she begins to laugh. 

As they reached the bottom Lila looked over at her, "What will you do?" 

"Cause a little trouble, go back to making the timeline shit. Then take a break," Phoenix said as she walked towards the main building, but stopped when Lila was following her. 

"I like you, Lila, don't go into that building." 

Lila paused and nodded, there was something about the Eight doppelgänger that she liked. Not a rule follower, liked to have fun, and was blind but could kick ass. 

"Will I see you again?" she asked watching as the girl paused. 

Turning with a smirk, "It's not the last of me you'll ever see." 

And that was true. That day she watched as Phoenix walked into the building and never come out. But she did hear the fire sirens going off, then a few windows blasting sideways. Screaming and people running out. Then the bullet sounds began to ring in the burning building. She rose a brow when flashes of red could be seen through the windows. 

Lila smiled at the sight, she was a badass, "Now, that's cool." 

Then the Commission was let know if she was ever spotted she was to be killed on the spot. 

On a spontaneous meeting with many of the field agents, one particular one rolled her eyes, "How do you lose someone? Do you even know what she looks like?" 

The Handler scowled at the voice, her eyes landing on the cloudy blue eyes, "You'll know Ms. Eight," she replied with a sarcastic smile. 

The blonde sighed and stood from her chair, not caring about the screeching it made. She would find this Phoenix,  and end it. 

I'm sure you're asking yourself, "oh god did she go and find herself?"  Well, what happened was that Eight Hargreeves is the smartest person possibly to exist—until she died. 

She did find herself, and almost killed her, but let me tell you the story. 

Phoenix had just turned twenty-five and she celebrated with a great killing of a few Commission agents. In her defense, they were going to kill her in return. So she flipped her new hair due over her shoulder. 

Well, that's at least what the hairdresser did, purple hair with a blunt fringe right above her eyebrows. With a smirk, she turned and left the alleyway, her cane clicking every step ahead of her. 

But she froze as she felt someone across the streets, "Oh shit," she mumbled the turned on her heels running away from the woman she hoped never to run into. 

Her cane was long forgotten as she ran, shoes clicking as she continued to run. That was until a strong force threw her onto the ground. 

"Have you forgotten me, [redacted]," the woman's voice called. 

Phoenix gasped at the name, "How do you know that name?" she hissed getting up fist clenched. 

Eight rose a brow at the sight of the red energy emerging from her hands, so much power, "I don't want to hurt you, but why are you after the Commission?" 

"Why do you care? They're going to kill me anyway, so why not win first?" She called then ran forward her fist glowing red. 

The blonde dodged it grabbed onto her arm and rolled her back onto the purple-haired girl. Bringing her over to her back onto the ground. 

Phoenix rolls out and stands, "and what you're going to kill me now?" 

The blonde scoffs, "I could, easily," she replied running forwards and missing a beat to punch her in the face, but she dodges it. This made her smile and moved her leg up and kicked her far. 

With a groan the young woman rolled far, she's strong, she thought to himself standing and her hands began to glow as she began to float in the air. 

But Eight didn't wait for a second, conjuring her lasso and tying around the floating girl. Lifting her own foot in a high kick, she moved the lasso on her foot, then slammed it down, bringing the purple-haired girl onto the ground with a harsh tug. 

"Jesus christ lady where did you learn to fight?" Phoenix huffed getting up, running again and this time lifting things up around her. 

Eight smirked and began rolling out of the way of the flying objects. The saw came too close and straight-up punched it to pieces, "I had a father who wanted me to be perfect," she huffed and blinked away to appear behind the floating girl. Punching her back onto the ground. 

Not once has the purple-haired girl landed a hit on the woman. Lila might've been right that she's lucky that she wasn't her hit. It wouldn't have been long before she was killed. Especially with how easily this woman was able to throw her around. It was like she knew what was going to happen. 

Just as she was getting up Eight blinked next to her and punched her. Then again to punch her, then to kick, punch, until finally, she activated her powers, the purples, blues, and oranges, hitting her right in the stomach. Sending her through the buildings.

As her back hit the ground, Phoenix knew she barked up the wrong tree. This lady was a lot stronger than she ever thought she could be. 

"I'm not strong [redacted], I am trained in what I do," her voice came her hair softly falling back onto her shoulders, "And you have a lot to live for dear child."

Getting up Phoenix sighed, "What do you know about me?" she said stumbling feeling the large crater she made on impact.  

Eight shook her head, "Not much for now, but I do know some serious shit is coming, and you are going to help me fix it." 

The purple-haired girl laughed, "How am I going to help you if I barely know how to fight, I bet you weren't even trying." 

The blonde kneeled beside the young woman, "I may have not been trying, but I know you'll get better. Just have faith Phoenix," she replied tapping the girl's forehead. 

Phoenix blinked and looked around, "What the fuck happened to me," she mumbled moving to stretch her back, hearing small cracks as she did so. 

Her memory wasn't erased it was just repressed to come back later in her life, but Phoenix didn't know that of course. 

Anyways, after her little birthday there, she felt inclined to learn to properly fight. Using her ability she moved thought out the world to learn all types of combat. It took her a couple of years to really get into it. She was impressed by the end of it. I mean how many blind people do you know who are blind and can fight? Don't say Matt Murdoc...

When she turned thirty, the woman decided it was time to return back home. Her parents had seen her since she left Australia all those years ago. Boy was it hard to jump back from a whole other timeline. It was weird, some kids named the Umbrella Academy were famous in the past timeline.

She was able to successfully—well kind of, return back home. Like a couple that we know, when they tried doing a large jump like that, it doesn't always go to plan. And just like them when she returned, it was back to a fourteen-year-old. 

Let me quickly recap the rest. When she returned her parents were weirded out why she looked so young after so long had passed. They were able to kind of get it when she explained the situation. Even with her young age, she did the best she could. Opened a repair shop with a local bike gang. 

Momma wasn't happy, but mentally her daughter was a thirty-year-old. And couldn't yell at her for the tattoos she began to collect in a quick amount of time. But was proud nonetheless. 

After that, she grew to be the eighteen-year-old we met when Hargreeves changed their timeline and ended up here. Kickstarting the end of everything, and meant slowly returning the repressed memories in Phoenix's head. 

I'm guessing you want to know what happened to Eight's grave? Well, I can't tell you obviously that's the whole point of the story, but what I can tell you is—she was never buried in the first place—

AS THE DUO REACHED THE END OF THE ROOM. It was clear the chimp knew who the blind girl was. He took a long drag of his cigar as he looked at her. 

"You look good Phoenix," he said his face not changing in sentiment as he glanced at her. 

The girl nodded holding her cane, "Pogo," she greeted. 

Five looked between the two, "I don't have time to know why know each other." 

Pogo looked at her partner up and down, "I won't tattoo you, I barely did hers," he said blowing out another puff of smoke as he looked over at him 

"Well, I'm not here for the ink. I'm here because you and I have a mutual friend. Not the Bird, but Sir Reginald Hargreeves." Five explained hands still in pockets. 

Pogo paused for a second, "Whatever he wants, I'm not interested," he said turning back around to deal with his customer. 

Five frowned at his words, "I don't think you understand. I'm one of his children," he paused, "From another timeline." 

At those words Pogo paused his word to turn to look at Five, "Another timeline?" he asks out loud but only chuckles. 

Five looked around and notices that the large buff men were getting closer. So he motioned for the teen girl to get closer in case things were to get dirty, "As crazy as it sounds, you and I have met before he starts, "Back in 1963, when you were a diaper-wearing chimp in dire need of a manicure. I don't know if you remember, but I have a scar to prove it," he finishes and pulls his collar to show him. 

Pogo finishes packing, "if what you're saying is true, I'd be talking to a man well into his sixties. Now if you'll excuse me. I've had a very long day," he finishes turning to put on his sunglasses. 

As he turns everyone starts to surround them, Five moves closer to Phoenix as they do.

"Time to go back to mommy," one of the buff guys says to them. 

What was accidental was one of them behind shoving the purple-haired girl. Stumbling forward her glasses slipped down her nose. Lifting her head, one of the guys made eye contact with her. 

But her pale grey eyes were only like that for a second before they began glowing an eerie red. The man gasped but froze as then a stream of red energy followed the room of men. 

"Excuse me, my friend and I have work to do," she replied reaching up and pushing her glasses back up her nose. They walked ahead only to stumble. 

Five caught her arms as they walked out of the building where Pogo had gone, "Jesus what was that?" he asked a little frightened about how they all were held hostage without her doing much. 

She shrugged and giggled, "I don't know we had to get out of there. I'm drunk so nothing serious would happen to them." 

"You are never drinking again,"  he hissed and pulled her by the hand as they reached to see Pogo ride off. 

"Hey, I need your bike, It's an emergency," he told one of the men on a bike. 

The man scoffed, "Think you have me confused with someone who gives a shit," he replies and rides off. 

Five sighs as he watches him go off, "Bird get behind and put your arms around me," he says and pulls her arms around his torso. 

"Why—" she screams as her voice gets pitchy, her arms holding onto him tighter. 

Five blinked and threw the guy off the bike, "Oh my god! A death machine!" she screams. 

He turns his head with a smirk on his face, "Have you never been on a bike?" 

"Idiot I can't see!" she yells arms tightly holding onto him, "I think I've become sober from this!" she yells onto his back as the wind brushes against them. 

Five can't help but chuckle at her fear, not missing her arms tightly wrapped around him. So much for a girl who had just scared a room of fully grown men. 

"Don't laugh! If you make us fall, I will kill you," she yelled over the wind, her arms holding him tighter if it was possible. 

The teen boy's small smile didn't fall from his face, "Don't worry, I know how to ride a motorcycle," he paused still looking ahead, "You won't be dying on my watch." 

Phoenix could only nod against his back, still very much afraid. The world moving in blurs of lights around her. This was the first time she decided to trust Five with her life. 

Five only hoped that the ride wasn't for nothing. Feeling a little calm with the wind blowing against his face. Without thinking he moved a hand down to the smaller hands tightly wrapped around his torso. He squeezed softly, a silent way of asking if she was alright. Realizing what he had done, he sighed knowing she still hated his guts. 

But his thoughts fell silent when he felt one of her own hands squeeze back at his hand. Suddenly he was acutely aware of her cheek against his back, her warm hand against his. Her thighs were close to his body, all of it feeling like she trusted him. With the thought at the back of his head, he only smiled slightly. 

A couple of hours later, the sun rose high in the sky, the duo still rode past through the greenery. The two silently communicated with the squeeze of their hands. Something so intimate yet, so silent. 

"Senses up Bird, we're coming up on Pogo," he told her as he tuned the bike into a pathway. 

She nodded, "Thank god, I hate this death trap." 

Pulling to a stop, Five kicked the stand on the side of the bike. His eyes looked around at the trailer and the woman sat on a chair reading a book. Stepping off the bike, he turned to help the girl off the bike. Taking her hand as she swings her leg over the bike. 

Hand still in his, he watched her take a breath, "Well this place is full of trees huh?" she mumbled. 

"I still find it odd that you can sense everything around you," he adds letting go of her hand and moving ahead to the woman sitting on the chair. 

The woman looked over at the duo and rose a brow. A teen boy wearing a whole suit, while the girl had a cane in hand, blind, she thought to herself, "Can I help you?" the woman asked, putting her book down. 

Five stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Need a word with Pogo," he simply said to her. 

The woman looked him in the eye, "No Pogo here, pumpkin," she said using a cute little nickname. 

Phoenix snorted at the pet name, "Pumpkin my ass," she muttered under her breath, not missing the harsh feeling that Five gave her a look. 

He clenched his jaw and looked back at the woman, "Okay," he said and stepped forward, but stopped when the woman stood from her seat. 

"So, I suggest you get your ass off my property. Before I call a truant officer," she said putting down her cigarette in hand and giving him a look. 

Again the girl rolled her eyes under her glasses, "Welp that's nice for him," she says and walks forward past the two of them her cane tapping the leaves softly. 

Five furrowed his eyebrows and pointed at the girl, "Why did you just let her walk past?" he asked annoyed. 

"Let him through Tammy," the voice came through. 

The teen gave the woman a slight smile and moved around her to follow the girl. 

Phoenix climbed onto the small trailer, "Love the whole trailer," she says pointing around with her cane. 

The chimp rolls his eyes as he smokes, "And you're still equally as annoying as I saw you a few years back kid," he says to the girl with the vibrant hair. 

She smiles at the thought, "Awe why do you talk to your favorite friend that way?" 

Five was confused, "How do you two know each other?" he asked as he moves to sit in the booth with the chimp. 

Pogo sighs at the question, "Don't believe this girl is all that innocent. That place you got her from—" 

Phoenix cringes, "Pogo don't—" she tries to intervene. 

The chimp lifts a hand to silence her, "She's Mengie the owner of the shop back in Australia," he simply says thinking the teen boy would know what he meant.

Five snapped his neck towards the girl near them, "Your name is Mengie?" he asked in disbelief, that the name was such a big secret was Mengie. 

"No you idiot," she hissed and smacked his head. 

Pogo shook his head, "No, her name isn't Mengie, she's a leader of an Australian gang," he adds. 

"And that's any better than it being your name?" Five adds looking again at her, but she just shrugs. 

"Just tell him what you're here for," she quips, but only smiles when she hears the pistol click, so then she turns to the sink and spots a bottle of liquor. Five won't know, she thinks to herself and picks it up and drinks from it. 

Pogo just takes a sip of his drink, "You must be either dumb or desperate, to find me, and have her around," he says motioning to Phoenix, "Which is it?" 

Time after time, he keeps hearing that voice. Chris, Eight's dead words, and now Pogo are all ringing the bell. How powerful is Phoenix that she has people vouching for her, without trying? That it was a good thing that Reginald didn't find her. 

Rather than voice the thoughts in his head, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the skin, "You tell me," he simply said. 

Phoenix just cringed at the sound of the skin slapping the table. Then she shivered as she felt a powerful wave come from near the area. Who had powers that big, she thought to herself. 

Pogo just picked up the skin, "That looks like my work, but I never did that tattoo," he says and throws the skin back on the table. 

"Not yet, you haven't," he says, "I cut it off my 100-year-old self." 

The chimp hums, "Ah, so desperate," he adds taking a sip of his drink. 

"You would be too if you knew the entire universe was at stake," the boy says seriously. 

Pogo takes a sharp inhale, "So it's happened," he said and unlocks the pistol, knowing he wasn't a threat. He reaches into the side of the table for something, then hands it over to Five, "Ah, here it is. Look familiar?" 

Five grabs the notebook and compares it to the skin that had the tattoo. 

"Reggie was obsessed with these symbols. It's a sigil. A symbol thought to have magical powers," he says as Five looks over the symbols. 

Five scoffs softly, "Dad believed in science, facts. I didn't respect much about the old man, but I respected that. Hoo-ha was not his thing. It's gotta have a rational meaning," he says as he continues looking over the symbols. 

"I don't know, but he referred to it as Project Oblivion," Pogo told Five not knowing much about the symbol. 

Phoenix took a sharp inhale putting the bottle back down at the skink. She felt eyes on her as she did. He probably remembered the two both muttered on actual old Five's deathbed. 

Five leaned closer to the chimp, "This project. I need to know more," he said one of his hands clenched tightly. 

The purple-haired girl searched in her head to remember anything of what he was talking about. Oblivion...oblivion...oblivion. It was almost like a lightbulb went off in her head. 

In the strange dream when she passed out at the Commission, the very adult-looking Five had said this to her. 

His blue eyes trained on hers, hands on her shoulders, "Oblivion..." he had said to her. 

But she needed to know the whole story, why was he talking about such a word? What was happening, and why was that version of Five in her dreams? 

Pogo's voice brought her back to the present, "It was a kamikaze mission. He was preparing the Sparrow children with the expectation they might never return. That's why I gave those children all those pills, to keep them safe from him." 

"Great, now Klaus got him sober, amazing honestly," she snorted taking the glass cup from Five's hand and drinking it in one go. 

Pogo sighed and looked over at the girl, "Then Project Oblivion is staring again, and you are all in danger," he paused to give the now probably drunk girl a look, "But this time you have her to help you, use her wisely." 

Five and Phoenix gave each other a look, "You know about my whole witch shit?" the girl slurred waving her hands around her face. 

The chimp chuckled taking a sip of his drink, "Dear you're one of a kind. I don't know anyone else who is blind that is able to dodge bullets without a second thought," he muttered taking another drink. 

Five took back the glass from Phoenix and poured himself a drink, taking it in one go, "I should probably get that ink. Complete the loop," he said putting the glass down. 

"Are you sure?" the chimp asked looking at the teen worriedly. 

The time traveler chucked, "Oh, I don't think destiny cares whether I am or not," he paused and turned over to the purple-haired girl, "Want to do the honors?" 

Tammy who sat in the back cleared the table and nodded, "Bitch is cruel, ain't she?" she thinks allowed getting up from the table. 

The teen girl smiles at Five, "It's your first isn't it?" she asks reaching forward to unbutton his vest. 

The two face to face, "No, got a small one on my wrist courtesy of my father," he says in a much softer tone, feeling as she delicately unbuttons his vest. Then watching her manicured fingers move up to loosen his tie, "How many men have you taken ties off huh?" 

Phoenix just smirked, "Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," she mumbled moving to unbutton his white button-down, she let her hands briefly brush against his chest. Before turning to Pogo, "He's all yours Pogo," she finished and moved away for the chimp. 

"Let's get started then," he says and it wasn't long before his tattoo machine was buzzing and marking Five's chest. 

Five couldn't help but feel guilty as Pogo began his marking. The brief tingling from Phoenix's finger still lingered on his skin. He shouldn't begin to care for her. She wasn't his wife, not the woman he promised to love forever. Yet, why was he worried as he looked at her down the bottle of liquor? Ever since they arrived he couldn't help but notice she began drinking a lot more than it looks she can handle. 

After getting Tammy to take the bottle from Phoenix, and tying her to a chair. She fell asleep listening to the buzzing of Pogo's tattoo machine. 

Finally, Five was able to relax and just sit until he was finished with the art piece. 

Pogo's eyes never left his machine as he continued, "You care for her don't you?" he asks suddenly causing Five to sigh. 

"I don't know, I guess I do. She looks so much like Eight," he then says closing his eyes and getting a glimpse of the blonde. 

The chimp hums, "Well Phoenix is a good one. She may look like she doesn't care, but she does," he pauses to wipe away some of the ink, "She's gone through a lot as a kid. Don't underestimate her. She can help you." 

Five nodded lightly, "Does she have a drinking problem?" he then asked. 

Pogo only snorts for a problem, "A little," he says, "She's always had bad luck with drinking. Can never hold it down, but really starts to drink when something is eating at her."

The two then say nothing for the rest of the tattoo. Both of them drowned in the sound of the buzzing of the tattoo machine. 

"You're all set kid," he says a few hours later, rolling his chair back and rubbing ointment on the fresh ink to set it.

Five got up from laying down and began buttoning his shirt, fixing his tie, and his vest, "Thanks Tammy for tying her down after she got a bit aggressive," he said reaching for his jacket and shrugging it on. 

The woman put down her book and smiled with a slight nod, "No worries, not the first time we've had to put down the girl," she says with amusement in her voice. 

The time traveler looked over at the chimp behind him with a brow raised, "I'm sorry what?" 

"We've known the girl for a couple of years," he paused to light a cigarette, "She makes a mean gang leader, like I said don't underestimate her." 

There was so much that he still to this day didn't understand. How is the girl that was completely wiped out from a couple of drinks? He just hoped when she did explode she was still on his side. 

He just moved forward and untied her from the chair, lifting her to his shoulder. Arms securely around her thighs against his chest. Turning to face the duo in the trailer he waved, "Thanks again," he called, then went with a crack.