#nor if i’ll be able to keep up with it due to my work shifts and the holidays coming

[captainsavre]

Marina: Season 7 Countdown

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to a s/o falling asleep on their lap

The reason I have to post requests like this is because, for some reason, if I post them as Tumblr requests, I can’t find them again when I search for them. Making the masterlist was a real struggle. As usual, I’m using the headcanon to promote my longfic on Arcane, Everytime It Rains.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

It often happens when he spends the evening working instead of giving you attention.

You know he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, so you settle for climbing onto his lap, letting your limbs dangle, and resting your face against his chest.

He stays focused on studying the documents in front of him, but one hand holds your head steady to keep you from losing your balance.

He strokes your hair absentmindedly.

When he notices you’ve fallen asleep, he feels a warmth, a tender sort of affection. He doesn’t want to wake you but wishes he had something to drape over your shoulders.

After a while, it becomes his signal that he’s pushed himself too far with work.

That’s the moment when he lifts your face to kiss you before carrying you to bed.

Viktor:

The classic "working on the couch" position, where you first sit next to him to avoid disturbing him, then drape one leg over his lap, and eventually both. By the end of the evening, you’re fully curled up in his arms.

He holds your side, resting his cheek against your head while continuing to read his notes, basking in the warmth of that shared intimacy.

He asks you several times if you’re tired, and when you don’t respond, he smiles softly, realizing exhaustion has won you over.

He pulls the blanket up to cover you both, and even when you grumble in annoyance at his movements, he chuckles and just says, “Just a second”

He works for another couple of hours but never stops stroking your side or giving you small kisses on the forehead.

Ekko:

“Aw, someone’s sleepy here,” is the first thing he says when you take the overboard from his hands, and let yourself plop into his lap, already wrapped in a blanket like a cape.

He doesn’t even try to go back to what he was doing. Instead, he pulls you close, rubbing his face against yours, taking in your scent.

He loves it—maybe even more than cuddling lying down. He enjoys the weight, the shape of your body, and being able to cradle you.

Because of this, he doesn’t ask if you’d rather lie down; he stays put, ensuring your rest is protected.

It’s only when you’re fully asleep and start shifting to find a more comfortable position that he decides to carry you to bed, staying there with you afterward.

Vander:

I’ll be honest, would.

The underground city is freezing due to the lack of light that filters in, all the glass and steel radiating cold from the outside. That’s why there’s no place more comfortable than this man’s laps.

You usually do it when the bar is still closed, and only a few close friends are inside. When you know he isn’t on the defensive and you won’t slow him down.

He laughs, keeping one hand on your back to support you, and points out to anyone around him that it’s good for you to get a little rest.

If you stay asleep even after the bar opens, he’ll grab a chair and sit it beside him so he can take care of the larger tasks first and then return to you in his lap.

But if it’s the weekend, when things can easily heat up, he’ll delay opening just to get you to bed, give you a kiss, and apologize for leaving you alone.

Silco:

Can we normalize this man as a piece of furniture?

It’s not even about being tired or wanting attention, sometimes it’s just the comfort the situation itself provides.

The way the swivel chair rocks, the vinyl on the record player, the intense, greenish light pouring through the window, and enjoying his delicate fingers in your hair while the entire city stretches out beneath you.

He doesn’t ask why you do it, nor if you want to move. He assumes that if you wanted something different, you would simply ask, so he continues to give you those small attentions endlessly.

He keeps you on the side of his good eye, so he doesn’t have to turn his head to check on you, but can discreetly notice if your expression changes or if you fall asleep.

These are the moments when Sevika knows that no one is supposed to enter his office, so you can have a bit of peace.

Jinx:

She’s always busy, always active, always too loud. Sitting in her lap sometimes seems almost like a necessity to keep her still and focused on just one thing.

“Awwww, my little bug is sleepy?”

She hums while holding you in her arms, one hand still trying to get her projects done.

If too much time passes, she’ll bend her knees and push herself forward, making the swivel chair move in the direction she wants so she can stay occupied while talking to you about whatever crosses her mind.

If she feels your breathing change, that you’re falling asleep, she suddenly freezes, as if to let you rest.

She pulls you closer, caresses you, kisses your temples, and carries you to her little couch.

Vi:

If manhandling were a woman

When you sit on her lap, she treats you like you’re a cat: fine. It will end there.

Does she need to pee? No, she doesn’t anymore.

She can’t disturb you, or you might get up and leave.

But when it starts to become a constant, she’ll cover your back and simply hold you while she does what she needs to do.

If you complain, she’ll kiss you, apologizing and reassuring you that you’ll be back on the sofa soon, asking you to hang on.

She enjoys that closeness, your breath on her skin, the trust in that action.

The moment she sits back down or rests, she’ll shower you with cuddles, even if you’re asleep or pretending to be.

Caytlin:

She’s the one to ask if you want to sit in her lap, worried that she’s neglecting you.

She keeps you with her, even if you’re asleep, supporting you to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or lose your balance.

Her biggest fear is not being able to express how much she cares for you, how happy she is to have you there.

The quickest way she knows to do that is through physical contact—the reassuring, warm kind.

“How was your day?” she asks, giving you space to talk and feel seen. She doesn’t want the things she has to do to take away from you, from the two of you.

If she still feels like she’s ignoring you, she’ll ask you to sit on the couch with her to watch a movie, or maybe in bed, cuddled up, just being close.

Mel:

I recognize mommy issues when I see them, and so does she. You’ve been caught.

She welcomes you into her arms almost playfully, gently caressing your hands and arms, speaking softly with her head turned toward you.

She knows it’s the easiest way for you to ask for attention, and she simply accepts it, letting you rest either in her arms or with your head on her lap.

She talks to you about her day, her plans, her worries as if telling you a lullaby, letting you rest on her concerns, including you in her mind so that you don’t feel like a burden.

If you fall asleep, she rests her chin on your shoulder and closes her eyes as well, enjoying a few minutes of peace, trying to sync your breathing together.

Sevika:

You live on the lap of this woman.

When she adjusts her arm, when you eat something on the couch, even at the bar while she plays cards or drinks, you’re always there.

The safest place in the underground city is on the massive legs of a woman with a mechanical arm, and that’s a fact.

Her initial fear, especially in public, was that someone might associate you with her and harm you.

But over time, it’s almost become a flex -you, pretty thing, are hers,

Every now and then, she checks to see if you’re okay, if you want to go to bed, if you’re comfortable, and with her healthy hand, she caresses your cheek while doing so.

At home, she always makes sure to cover you, to keep you close.

She doesn’t even go to bed unless you ask, enjoying the feeling of your body against hers.

[jozlyn-moon]

The Cipher Twins

Ford’s Journal Entry:

(It’s long! And one of the first Journal Entries I’ve gone fully into making!)

“How and Why that devil managed to “conceive”, and I use this term loosely, is beyond me. Especially when it’s taken in mind how careful with planning he chooses to be. But the outcome of two children that share such gains of his power is.. well- reckless, but that does give us a view that he isn’t as on his game as much as he once was, which in my eyes shows as a beacon of hope. Continuing though-

These two have been an eye opening pain in the ass to deal with in all the years that they’ve had to be in my life… and that’s saying quite a bit. From the oddities that sprout from their father’s genes to the oddities that come from each of their unique personalities that stem from their own special quirks, to study them has been an experience. Though, if I shouldn’t lie.. I may have chosen a favorite of the two for one reason or another and even if either manages to get a hand on my writing their opinion would not much matter in the end.

To begin on the first, Lily Cipher, a rambunctious but albeit pleasant kid to be around. An attribute which I could only give thanks to in the mother’s raising of both of the twins which I presumed had fortunately been enough to quell any evil nature that may have been held in her soul. Along with the fact that there had been no contact with the father in her and her sibling’s upbringing. Ignoring that fact- She can be described as a great help around the lab, seeing as age and stress have worn down my ability to keep steady with my motor and cognitive skills… she comes in handy as a shockingly fast learner, but to no surprise really as much as I don’t want to point the praise at where the origin of the ability may have come from, I do have my guesses to who it was passed down from.

She is a very curious and hyperactive child as well, being quite fascinated in the little things and anything that moves, she could only remind me of Mabel in her younger years in the most bitter sweet way possible. I pray for the moment that she’s alright.. but besides that point-

I find that she’s been a large help in also understanding, if not, being able to decrypt the genetics of my enemy, with her ability to shape shift into a form similar to the beings of Bill’s late home dimension, flatlanders as they’re called, she has given key samples of skin and DNA that have properties no normal being can handle nor have. I believe she and her brother are direct keys in Bill’s downfall. And while I wish to be optimistic to the outcomes of their existence at the current time, I do hold dread for whats to come. As while I may have positive outcomes with the more sweet hearted sibling… I have trouble describing the short tempered and snide one as such. Liam is another whole pile of bones to dissect but i’ll get to his summary soon enough.

Lily, and what baffles me the most about her, is how something so, well giddy and sweet by nature, can come out of such a creature that can be so, by choice, dangerously and maliciously evil. But then again, that damn triangle had always had his charms at his hand, so it wouldn’t be a complete surprise if that had passed along to his spawn.

And as much as I want to be paranoid of my enemy’s daughter, seeing first hand her grow up with no influence of her father’s morals and presence due to her mother separating from that devil before either of the twins were born- it lets me ponder on the thought of the nature vs nurture theory and how whether or not natures of the parents pass down to the kin and how much it actual effects their psyche.

Albeit with Lily, she works on her own will with a good moral stand point and natural urge to uplift others in sometimes slightly odd but endearing ways. Though i’m afraid that it’s her brother that leaves me still questioning the nature vs. nurture stand point, as I couldn’t say the same completely for her twin.

Liam Cipher, a more reserved kid but leaning on socially aloof by choice, is one who leaves me sleeping with one eye open. Literally. Seemingly gained the temper of his father along with a slew of other worrying traits that I would rather not be in the presence of while someone has lit his fuse. He is the sole reason why I had to ban or at the least limit the use of both of their magic to the mundane and simple party tricks after an incident with him that cost me half my sight with a fit he threw when he was younger.

Though as his mother insists to me greatly, it’s not the child’s fault for the traits he was born with, he can’t help himself she claims. And while true to some extents I can’t help but feel the dread towards the thought of another Bill like being sprouting due to the “freak accident” of them being somehow made into existence. From the personality to even the damn voice that the kid shares with himself and his devil of a father, I can’t just shake off the feeling of a tense shiver that always crawls up my back when thinking of him growing older.

The only saving grace, and what calms my already paranoid nerves falls upon the ones I could think have a good hand in quelling those unsavory traits, the one’s I label the family buffers. I.e his mother, sister, and at times the cousins that are there to talk him down out of a potential blow out. I couldn’t even dare muster the thoughts to wonder what he’d turn to if his mother nor his “siblings”, if I could even loosely consider the cousins as such, weren’t there to quell his snappy nature. But for the sake of my cortisol levels, I can’t let those scenarios overcome my already racing thoughts because I have enough to deal with now in taking care of both of the twins that have been enough of a hassle on my growing age.

Liam for the most part has made it clear that he has a distaste for me, I believe sprouting from my coldness towards his mother for being deceptive at the beginning of our begrudging guardianship over the kids. And he places it as if I have no good reason, if it wasn’t clear that I have some bother that hiding the children of that damned demon under my nose with what current family I have left wasn’t something to not be chastised for. Not to mention that her withholding from the implicit truth had allowed me and my great great niece and nephew to harbor an attachment to the twins which if I had known before hand their origin… would not have ended well for her.

But I am not heartless, I do understand the fears that may have accompanied the weight of telling the truth at the time. And I’ve learnt that I shouldn’t be one to not swallow my pride and say I know I would have probably acted rashly. But as someone who freshly lost what family they had left at the time I feel as if it would’ve been just.

I don’t hate either of them, even while one may be more a pain in the ass than the other. I do believe I care for them in some sense. Liam is a help to me greatly, I won’t downplay that factor at all, he’s the one that helps me draw in the newer journal entries and goes out to scout with Chloe to do some cartography of the surrounding landscape. A quirk he seems to be great at with a sense of great direction and keen eyesight, something even younger me couldn’t get down right away. My body can only do so much these days as I’ve already made my point earlier that my hands and even now legs can’t do what they did often like they used to.

He’s smart, more smart than he gives himself props for, he knows how to channel a certain charisma and silver tongue that lets him find the best supplies, of course if it isn’t the case that he had stole them in the first place. And like his sister, there is no second thought to where he got that ability from, but it’s better to not dwell on it, just for my sake at least.

Both are a handful in their own ways, but they have grown on me- and they do hold insight in how we may be able to stop weirdmaggedon once and for all.

And I pray that it can be in time.”

(If you made it down here thanks for reading it! I want to make sure I have Ford’s characterization down to some extent 😭 My grammar may not be all that great but I tried lol)

[writing-for-marvel]

Quarantine

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 7 | Series Masterlist

Summary: When you get sick at work, Bucky ensures you’re well taken care of.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, reader gets sick at work and collapses, Bucky being worried and an absolute sweetheart while taking care of her

Word count: 1.3k (I know this is just a short one but my plan for the next part is quite long)

A/N: so I’ve been sick in bed all this week with covid and the only thing I’ve wanted is Bucky taking care of me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky takes the stairs two at a time.

He’s treated many patients in the field who have tripped on steps doing exactly what he is right now, but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is getting to you.

Bursting out of the stairwell at level two, Bucky searches for the room Wanda quoted to him over the phone. He’s never been to this area of the hospital before, all the corridors and nurses stations look the same, but as soon as he spots her characteristic red hair, he feels respite from the anxious constriction in his chest.

Wanda thanks him for coming so quickly, as if the news that you were ill, collapsed during a shift and now in a hospital bed of your own didn’t send him into a panic and have him rushing here like his life depended on it, before guiding him to where you are.

The room is dark, curtains pulled all the way over the spacious windows, and serenely quiet other than the whizzing mechanical sound coming from the infusion pump connected to the IV inserted in your arm.

You groan when you recognise that it’s Wanda and Bucky who have entered the room.

“Wan, you didn’t have to call him.” Bucky can immediately tell, just by the sound of your unusually hoarse voice, that you’re clearly not well.

“He’s your emergency contact and you are in no state to work nor drive yourself home, so yes, I did have to call him.” Wanda proclaims in a stern, slightly exasperated tone which indicates to Bucky she likely had this same conversation with you multiple times before he arrived.

“Bucky, I’m okay, you don’t have to be here.” You try convincing him, though you’re not very compelling when your sentence ends with a hearty coughing fit.

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed coughing up your lungs.” Bucky comments as he makes his way over to beside your bed. You look completely fatigued, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

Bucky’s never seen you look weak before, and the clench of his heart at the sight strongly suggests he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I just need a little rest and some IV fluids, then I’ll be fine to go back to work.” Your words almost sound comical with how raspy and fragile your voice is, but Bucky knows your insistence is a testament to your dedication to your job. “There’s really no reason to be worried.”

“I’m always worried about you.” Bucky mentions in a low tone, for your ears only, before placing a gentle kiss to your burning hot forehead. He takes your hand, your skin clammy against his. “Baby you can’t treat patients when you’re like this, you’re at risk of infecting them. Let me take you home.”

You concede as you lift yourself onto your forearms, sitting up in the bed, not without a dry cough being forced from your lungs by the effort. Bucky winces in response to the gravelly sound and the pain twisting in your face.

He wishes he could take it all away. All your suffering, all the sickness. On the job, Bucky is always able to provide assistance - relief from pain, to reduce bleeding, to ease anxiety. But for the one person in this world he cares about the most, he’s subjected to watching her suffer.

“Could you help please?” Holding out your hand where the catheter for your IV is inserted, you look up at him with helpless, wide eyes which makes Bucky smile and his heart flutter in his chest. It’s always nice to be needed.

Sanitising his hands and pulling on latex gloves, he places a sweet kiss to your knuckles before working to remove the IV, aware of your gaze on his every move.

“There you go darling, all done.” Bucky declares with a kiss to your nose, keeping pressure on your hand with his thumb to stop any bleeding before being able to tape a cotton round to it. “Ready to go home?”

“With you, always.”

Bucky protectively keeps his arm around you the entire way down to the staff parking until buckling you in the passenger seat of your own car, cautious knowing you had a moment of lightheadedness earlier today.

You rest your head against the side window, arms curled around yourself as Bucky begins the short drive to your place, turning the heating up to ensure you don’t get cold now that you are out from under the blankets Wanda had acquired for you.

“So… you made me your emergency contact.” Bucky broaches, having previously been unaware of this fact. He contemplated the reason Wanda called him today is because she knows the two of you are in a relationship, but warmth blooms in his chest at the notion you have officially designated him as the person you want to be contacted in a crisis.

“I changed it about a week ago. It was my mom, but she lives out of state… and I thought you’d probably want to know if something terrible happens to me.” It is probably such a minor thing in a normal relationship, just something which sits unutilised in an employee file, but to Bucky, who works in a profession where emergency contacts are critically important, it feels like an honour bestowed upon him to be appointed as yours. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay, darling.” Bucky smiles as the hand he is not using on the steering wheel comes to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently. “If anything happens to you, I wanna be the first to know, good and bad.”

With a snuffle of your nose and the best smile you can muster given your current energy levels, you interlace your hand with his and say “you’re always the first person I want to tell every piece of good news to, Bucky.”

When you arrive home, the first thing Bucky does is lead you straight to bed and tuck you in with two different blankets and the stuffie he won you during your date to the local carnival which visited town last week.

He gathers all the supplies you’ll need for the rest of the afternoon - cold and flu tablets, a water bottle, tissues and throat lozenges, making sure they’re all within reach of your place in bed. Bucky gently washes your feverishly warm face with a cool, damp face cloth, and insists you take a drink of water to prevent from becoming dehydrated.

Then, when you start to say goodbye, for whatever reason thinking Bucky is going to leave you here to be sick on your own, he pulls his Henley off, and climbs into bed behind you.

“No, Bucky…” You whine, feebly attempting to push him away from lying beside you in bed, which is a new and strange experience for Bucky.

“I think the fever has made you delirious, darling.” Bucky chuckles, taking your hand against his bare chest and covering it with his own as he snuggles even closer next to you.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you stay.” Bucky kisses your chapped lips, to prove that he’s not afraid of being with you whilst you're unwell.

“Baby, I had my tongue down your throat last night. If you’re already sick, I’m bound to get sick too.” Even if he weren’t already fated to contract the same illness as you, he’d take that risk just to fall asleep beside you.

You provide no more protest, surrendering to Bucky’s warm embrace and quickly falling into a deep, recuperative sleep. Bucky watches as your chest rises and falls, treasuring every moment he gets to spend by the side of the woman he loves, even if you are slightly sweaty and phlegmy.

When you both wake the following morning, still tangled in each other, you have matching runny noses, sore throats and dry coughs. The following week is destined to be spent curled up in bed together and taking care of one another. At least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Part nine coming soon

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[ashs-cardboard-box]

Poetic translation

~ Elliott/GN!Reader

~ Romantic

~ 881 words

ib: @the-spookington

..................................................................................................

Caring for your own farm was a drastic shift from your boring desk job, but it was honest work. Get up at six each morning, and hope you’re in bed before two. Getting billed from the frantic doctor Harvey wasn't something you looked forward to.

Unfortunately, it felt like it was happening more than normal lately. You had made friends with Elliott, often spending your time with him down on the beach when you weren’t working. His shack was quite a ways walk from your farm. Often losing track of time and ending up collapsing from exhaustion on your way back home. It always worried Elliott terribly.

 He knew that look. When you sheepishly walk up onto the beach, clutching the letter in hand. Elliott chuckles softly with a slow shake of his head extending a hand forth expectantly, prompting you to put the folded paper into his palm with a dry chuckle.

Elliott delicately unfolds the paper and reads over the doctor’s handwriting. “My love..” he sighs, but not out of frustration, out of worry for your well-being. Your black-outs can’t be good for you– that he knows. You nod slowly in response, already expecting a lecture of sorts.

Instead, he gently folds the paper back into three flaps and offers it back to you with one hand. The other reaching forward and resting his palm on your cheek, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone as he looks into your eyes with concern.

The two of you had grown close over time, blurring the lines of what you really are. Friends, lovers, best friends..just affectionate? You weren’t entirely sure. However, that wouldn’t stop you from leaning into the warmth of his hand. Accepting the letter back from him and stuffing it sloppily into your pocket, your other hand cupping the back of Elliott’s.

The silence between you two is not one of awkwardness nor of tension, but of pure bliss and adoration. Feeling his breath graze your face due to the close proximity, blending perfectly with the subtle breeze of salty sea water rushing the sandy shores in small waves. 

“I’ll be more careful tonight.” you promise, your fingers curling around Elliott’s hand, causing his own to move from your cheek to interlace your fingers with one another. A warm smile crosses over his lips at your words.

“I know you will, darling.” he murmurs. To anyone passing by, no doubt you would’ve seemed like more than friends. That one passing thought makes your cheeks burn, rushing up to the tips of your ears as you take a step back, awkwardly clearing your throat; you don’t dare let go of his hand. 

Elliott’s eyes dart up and down your body closely, studying each and every detail. His head cocking to the head subtly, as if a curious puppy. He brings his free hand up and runs his fingers through his long auburn hair, brushing it away from his face. 

“I- I should..get back to work–” you mumble nervously, feeling your heart race in your chest. Only to have Elliott gently pull you back to him without a word. Letting go of your hand to wrap his arms around you into a firm hug, keeping you close. Despite your confusion, you wrap your arms around his waist. A heavy sigh of contentment leaving your lips.

After an unusual silence on Elliott’s behalf, he finally speaks. His tone much softer than usual, making sure that you, and only you, are able to hear it– despite being alone along the beach. 

“You are like the warmth of the sun’s rays on my skin in the early morning hours; a fawn learning its way through a new life. You are the roots to the tree that support me in each waking minute. The shine of the dewy grass after a lovely rain couldn’t compare to your eyes, my love.”

You lift your head slowly and look up at Elliott, your confused expression a stark contrast from his passionate one. You blink a few times as you try and wrack your brain about what exactly all of that means.

“...What?” you mumble with a small chuckle, causing Elliott to scoff a laugh in mock offense before leaning down closer to you. One of his hands moving from around your back to your chin. His index finger underneath your chin, the pad of his thumb resting just under your bottom lip.

“I’m saying I love you, dear. How clumsy you are concerns me, and I love the way you support me and your farm, despite the strenuous work each day. Your eyes captivate me like no other.” Elliott explains calmly with a deep chuckle.

You gasp quietly at the simple explanation of Elliott’s poetic rambling. Your eyes lighting up with recognition, only serving to cause your heart to race further. “I love you too..” you whisper. Taking in each and every detail of Elliott’s features, only to get caught short as he leans even closer. Allowing his eyes to close as he lovingly presses his lips against yours. Your own eyes slowly closing as you kiss him back.

While you didn’t always understand the meaning behind his heartwarming poetry, he was patient and loved your excitement when you finally understood just how much he loves you.

..................................................................................................

i am a shit poet don't tear me to shreds </3

(thank you to Spooki for the idea !!!)

[junglemax]

i will add more to this but here’s a part from a jaws au ive decided to make bc the movie rotates in my brain constantly

jack and copeland reunite.

[drabble]

Copeland knocks on the door with his knuckle softly. His stomach twists left and right in anxiety, but peeks his head inside the room anyways.

“I’ll get to you in a minute,” a voice calls from the back.

The room is near empty, and incredibly sterile. Nothing like it is back home. It sure is a fancy institute, Copeland thinks to himself. “Dr. Perry,” Copeland calls, “I hope you’re not holding out on me.”

Finally Jack’s head pops up. “Holy shit,” he says, immediately getting up. His eyes are wider than the moon’s as he speed-walks over.

Copeland’s surprised that Jack’s sporting a beard. Last he saw, Jack was clean shaven, with big, wild hair. His hair is still wild, but he notices it’s tamed down. “Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Oh my god, you’re actually- how’d you find me? Come here.” Jack gives him a hug, squeezing tight.

Copeland chuckles, returning the hug. He holds it for longer than he maybe should, but Jack doesn’t seem to mind and he’s grateful for that. “Just asked for the man who loves sharks. How have you been?”

“Good.” Jack pulls away. His hand lingers on Copeland’s arm. “Pretty uh, buried in my work. How are you?”

Copeland sighs. “I’m alright. Still trying to uh, adjust.” He hasn’t been able to step fully into the water yet. He can go to his waist, but after that- that awful feeling rattles his bones, screams at him to get out of the water.

Jack frowns, but he looks understanding. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Um- do you wanna get something to eat, maybe? I’m at a stopping point. And you came all this way to see me, so…” he twists his hands, chewing on his lip slightly.

“I’d love that,” Copeland says with a smile. “You know the area, you pick.”

Jack smiles back. “I won’t let you down, Chief.”

~

They talk about anything and everything. Jack’s studies, the amount of papers he’s written since he came back. The events back in Amity that Copeland keeps the peace at, how more protective measures are being set for the beaches.

They drink. A lot. And lucky for them, Jack’s place is nearby, within walking distance.

Jack giggles as he clings to Copeland’s arm. He’s swaying, and Copeland has to hold on tight to not lose him. “You know, Chief,” Jack hiccups as they enter his place, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“Oh, really?” Copeland muses. He hasn’t stopped thinking of Jack, either. He hasn’t stopped thinking of a lot of things, but he pushes most of them down. Not the time nor place to throw himself back down the hole.

“Yeah.” Jack walks his fingers up Copeland’s chest. “Tell me- you still think I’m some- some young boy, who doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

Copeland manages to lead them into a bedroom with a chuckle. “Mm- I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jack splits into a grin, giggles, and drags Copeland down for a kiss.

~

The bed is small, but they make due. Copeland sighs, shifting under the covers. “Got any smokes in here?”

“Th’ table,” Jack mutters, face half buried into Copeland’s chest.

Copeland looks at the bedside table and grabs the little box as well as the lighter. He lights himself one and blows out slowly.

“Hey, Adam?” Jack asks softly, tracing circles into Copeland’s side.

“Hm?”

“Do you, uh, still think about…” Jack trails off.

Copeland doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

Copeland breathes out smoke. “Yeah.”

“I miss him. A lot.”

“I know.”

Jack sniffles. “Lemme have a drag.”

Copeland doesn’t argue as he hands the cigarette over.

Jack sighs with the drag. “Fuck. These taste like him.”

“You got the same brand he did.”

“I know.”

Copeland sighs and looks at the half-empty box of cigarettes. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Most days,” Jack admits. “But sometimes…sometimes I wake up gasping for air, like I’ve been drowning. That’s usually when I smoke. I just…I like to think he pulls me out of the water. Out of my nightmares when it gets too bad. It sounds silly, but…”

“It’s not that silly,” Copeland assures.

Jack sighs and hands the cigarette back. “Maybe not.” He looks up at him. “When are you leaving?”

“Was gonna leave tomorrow morning,” Copeland admits. “But, I can stay longer. If I need to.”

Jack goes quiet in thinking.

“Do you want me to stay?” Copeland asks instead.

“Yeah,” Jack says softly. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s not,” Copeland promises. “I’ll stay longer, then.”

[hiddles-and-skittles]

Ride

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,585

Summary: Gatherings can't be that bad, right? Especially if your boyfriend convinces you to ditch early for a ride home on his motorcycle. It's just unfortunate he's gotta rile you up beforehand.. .

Warnings: 18+, kinda masturbation/edging by motorcycle???, teasing, pet names; sweetheart, doll, cocky Bucky (what? He's definitely a warning)

Notes: This idea came to me and I absolutely could NOT put it down. I don't typically write smut or anything along those lines, so any feedback is appreciated! This is way out of my comfort zone😅

____________

"Come on, Sam is waiting on us."

You roll your eyes and dramatically throw yourself back on the bed. "Yeah well, Sam can wait. I don't even want to be there."

"And you think I do?" He calls to you, pulling on his gloves and nearly stomping back towards your room.

"Bucky, I don't want to go." He stands in your doorway and you pout at him, making him sigh.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. "I know. But who says we gotta stay all night?" At this, you raise up from your mopey position. "We make an appearance, talk to Sam for a little while, then get lost in the crowd and disappear. He won't even notice."

You hum thoughtfully. "Good point." You swing your legs over the bed and slip into your Converse shoes, plastering a smile to your face and gleefully skipping due to the fact you'll get to leave early.

Sam was having a reunion party with some buddies from his Afghanistan tours. It was a huge event downtown, but neither you nor Bucky was a big fan of crowds. So the two of you only considered going in support of Sam.

Bucky stopped on the apartment complex's steps, narrowing his eyes at an empty parking spot. "He took my bike."

You snorted. "Cab it is."

________

Shortly you arrive at the event and he opens the cab door for you, his knuckles grazing down your arm to catch your hand in his. The action sends a shudder through your body and he smirks, stopping to give you a scheming look.

"What?" you ask him, furrowing your eyebrows and squeezing his hand.

"Nothing," he simpers.

You decide to be suspicious of him for the rest of the evening.

There are a plethora of people but you both advance through the crowd in search of Sam, Bucky stopping you to point out that Sam is quite preoccupied. He nudges you towards the most empty table he can find so you can sit down. On either side of you both is an empty seat, and the rest of the chairs are filled by half-drunk, burly men sporting drinks.

One of them turns to you and introduces himself and his comrades. A few of them take quick note of Bucky's name, quoting something Sam has mentioned about him before then thanking Bucky for his service. You wrap your arm around his middle and look up at him with pride, nuzzling yourself closer to your soldier.

You're both quiet as the vets around you continue their chatter about their best times, their laughter making the atmosphere light. You have to admit, you might actually be enjoying yourself. You're lost in a story about a guy teaching his kid how to hot wire a car when a hand squeezes your thigh.

Your knee immediately jerks and hits the table and you have to bite your bottom lip to stifle a yelp. A few heads turn in your direction and as you feel the warmth spreading to your face, you feign a sneeze, apologizing for the interruption. Bucky remains dead panned, although the sides of his mouth subtly quirk up. You glare at him. "Bless you, sweetheart," he patronizes. You shift uncomfortably as the men return to their conversations.

His hand makes its way back to your thigh and you inhale sharply through your nose. "Bucky," you whimper, swallowing hard.

"Gotta keep quiet for me, doll, or I'll stop," he tuts lowly. Instinctively you spread your legs a little to make enough room for his hand. Your breath hitches as he circles your clit with his middle finger, lightly tracing down your clothed mound. You curse yourself for wearing jeans, because the thickness of the denim heavily affects the way he feels against you.

But you want more.

He presses harder until Sam struts over to the table, and Bucky innocuously throws his arm around your shoulder. You huff in frustration and he chuckles.

"Surprised you two haven't left yet," Sam laughs, sipping a beer and slapping a hand over Bucky's shoulder.

"Why would we do that?" Bucky asks sarcastically.

Sam rolls his eyes playfully. "Stay awhile, enjoy the sunset and have a drink. They're all on the house." You both pause in thought. "I knew that would convince you!"

"Well," you start. "The sky is gorgeous right now. Maybe just one drink till the sun sets."

Someone then calls for Sam and he excuses himself, telling you he'll see you back at home later. You watch him disappear into the crowd, reality hitting you that you're still worked up from Bucky's teasing. And all it takes is a devious look from him to get you riled up again. You shoot up from your seat to thank the vets around you for their service, and tell them that it was nice to meet them, but you have some personal matters to attend to at home. Bucky follows suit, grabbing your hand.

You try to push your way through the crowd without an obvious, horny spring in your step, and as you pass by a table, Bucky fishes a beer with his free hand without stopping.

"I'll call the cab back here and we can-"

"No."

"What?" You stop in your tracks and Bucky lets go of you, continuing to walk to where his motorcycle is parked. He beckons you over with a crooked finger as he mounts the bike, and you fold your arms over your chest, cocking an eyebrow.

"What? It's not like he'll be able to drive tonight anyway." He foots the kick stand, placing his beer in the back compartment then bringing his hands up to twist around the handlebars. "Come on, let's go watch the sunset."

"The-the sunset?" You ask incredulously.

"What? You said it was pretty, let's go get a closer look." Your eye twitches at his feigned ignorance.

"Bucky I swear to god if you don't take me right now-"

He grins. "Then I just won't take you at all." He revs the engine once to accentuate his threat and you groan. "Come on or I'll leave you."

"Fine."

You march over to him and swing your leg over the bike, nestling yourself into his back and situating your hands on top of his shoulders. The engine roars to life, the heads of onlookers catching your eye and in one swift motion he kicks it into gear and you're off.

The winds whips your hair and licks at your face, causing you to constantly tear it away from your eyes. Once free, you take in the view before you, ever amazed at how the sun sets on the water; the sky glows with an orange and pink hue, making it look like a painting. And for a moment you forget about your throbbing lower half until you shift to get a little more comfortable on the seat and oh. Oh.

Your hands impulsively tighten around his shoulders and your jaw goes slack, gasping as the vibration from the motorcycle hits just the right spot. You let out a light moan and no sooner clap a hand over your mouth, hoping Bucky hasn't heard you. Your head slumps forward on his back.

"You good back there?" He yells over his shoulder.

"Y-yeah! Uh-all good!" you wheeze, attempting not to sound too out of sorts. The street is bare as he stops at a red light, and you try to breathe so as not to let the pleasure overtake you. It's not that you don't want to let go, it's just that you know you'll never hear the end of it from him of you do.

When the light turns green, he revs the engine so many times you lose count. Your mind is swirling in ecstacy and you start to pant faster, clinging onto Bucky for dear life as you near your release.

You screw your eyes shut, the coil finally snapping while you bite down harshly on the shoulder of his leather jacket. By this point you're unabashedly gasping and moaning, your hips bucking wildly into the seat as your clit is overstimulated to the point it hurts.

You pray for the ride to your apartment to end while he speeds up, causing you to sob into the waves of pleasure the vibrations are granting you. You claw mindlessly at his torso until he finally slows to a stop, and you catch your breath to come to your senses. You can't help the nagging, coherent thought that the ride home had taken a lot longer than usual and you realize the sky is now completely black and littered with stars.

He knew. That fucker knew.

Bucky dismounts the vehicle and stands before you with a hand on his hip and a smug demeanor. You lean forward on your hands, still heaving to try and even out your breath.

"Enjoy the ride?" Bucky taunts, flat lining his lips.

"Fuck-" pant  "-you," you nearly spit. He chuckles darkly. "You were edging me, with a goddamn motorcycle."

He scratches the back of his head. "I might have added a little extra something just for you."

You raise your head. "Why don't we go upstairs and you let me get my revenge?"

He huffs. "What's the point? You already came all over my seat."

"It wasn't your cock," you retort, untangling your wobbly legs from the bike. Bucky reaches out to steady you, pulling you to him by your waist.

"Fair point, pretty girl."

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Newcomer: Chapter 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!Reader

Words: 2.3k 

Summary: The Outer Banks was a place you’d only heard of until recently. The unfolding changes in your life had led you to this very moment, and it appears you still have much to learn... 

Warnings: swearing, (***) minor time jumps 

A/N - sorry for the delay, had a huge assignment due and work <3 I know this is a slow ass start to the series, but trust I’m trying to build momentum LMAO 

It had been just over a week, and seemingly still trying to settle in. Majority of your belongings, clothes and other sentiments have now been unpacked and neatly placed away in their new space, although you felt the hardest part wasn’t over just yet. Yourself, Caleb and Anya still struggled to find your way around town, mostly succumbing to the help of Topper, who despite initially being ever so welcoming, had grown slightly agitated from the coercion of having to always help. He’d be dragged out of whatever event or plans he had made, just to help out, especially during the grueling days of the unpacking stages of moving. Not to mention the not so discrete argument you’d overheard, just a few days ago, that he had with his mother, complaining about not being able to enjoy his own summer break. 

You couldn’t deny that your presence did somewhat impede on his break, therefore, the guilt was there. You knew you’d have to start taking on some accountability, with or without Topper’s help. 

“Y/N, can we just run to the store real quick, I need to grab a few things and you know how hopeless I am with directions…Please, come with, or else I’ll have to get Topper and we both know how much he loves-”

“Yeah, yeah-”

With a reluctant sigh, you tagged the page you’d just turned over in your book and propped yourself off the bed, adjusting your midi skirt before nodding in agreement. 

One of the most convenient things about the Outer Banks was that nearly everything was within walking distance. It gave you a chance to explore the scenic landscape and water front, and perhaps even chat with a few of the locals you hadn’t yet properly met. 

“So, how are things looking with that JJ guy? He seems pretty cute,” You intrigued, nudging your sister’s shoulder into conversation. 

“Yeah he’s great actually, he's a really funny guy. He, uhm, he wants to meet but-” 

“But what, Anya? That’s exciting! We sure could do with someone else’s company that isn’t Topper.” 

“Yeah, I know but, I, well we, don’t really know him that well. Who’s to say he isn’t some sociopath, Y/N.”

“I highly doubt anyone around here is a psychopath, Anya. Look around, this is a place people come around to relax or retire.”

“Don’t speak too soon, Y/N…”

For some odd reason, you hesitated in a response. Anya was right, you had no familiarity with the people of Outer Banks, although it just seemed like an outrageous place for crime. Ever since arriving, you felt some unexplainable ease here. 

“But I mean yeah sure. I’ll probably meet up with JJ some time… In public though, and you need to promise me that you’ll be on the lookout. Not like you’re busy with any plans at the moment, huh,” Anya remarks, as you appeasingly roll your eyes: God she could be so paranoid. 

“Yeah, yeah. I promise. Think we turn right up ahead-”

Continuing right on the pathway, you could just faintly decipher the movement of people bustling in and out of the stores, and with that a wave of relief settled over you. Seemed like you knew your way around after all, having doubts along each turn of the walk.  

“Make this quick, Anya, the sun’s starting to set, okay.”

“Whatever, Mum!” Anya quips, before rushing off into the convenience store, leaving your lonesome self outside waiting. 

You watched the crowd across the street at the diner, enjoying their dinner, as you observed the locals in action, contemplating who was who, as you heard Evelyn exchange many names with your father over endless dinner conversations. 

One name that stuck by you was “Cameron.” 

Evelyn mentioned it countless of times, although you’d simply assumed they were one of the many well-known families that had established themselves in town. There wasn’t much else you knew, or wanted to know. You hardly met anyone else outside of the house, nor were you in any rush to. 

“Hey!-”

Instantly snapping from your extensive thoughts, the familiar voice dragged you back to reality, as you turned your sight to its direction. 

“It’s Y/N, right? Anya’s sister! It’s me, JJ, the waiter-”

“Yeah, of course, I remember you-”

As formal and proper as your manners from childhood were, just as you’d gone in for a handshake, JJ wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in warmly for a friendly embrace, before letting you go. 

It had caught you off-guard, although not at all in a distasteful way. 

“How are you? How’s Anya?” He asked, folding his arms as he leant against the wooden post of the front deck. 

“Yeah we’re good! I’m sure Anya’s kept you posted, we’ve pretty much moved in now. How about you? I haven't seen you around.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been pretty good! Oh that’s great to hear, that would mean you guys are free to come to the Boneyard tonight!” 

“The what?”

“The Boneyard? Where we have this party with a kegger, Topper didn’t tell you?” 

By the puzzled expression reeked across your face, JJ knew to take that as an immediate no, not questioning it any further. 

“Well if you’d like, I could meet with you guys later and escort you there myself. There’s a few friends of mine I’d like to introduce you guys to.” 

“Yeah, sure. That would be lovely, JJ-” 

And as perfect as the timing could get, Anya returned from her little store run, stunned by JJ’s unexpected presence. 

“Anya- I was just telling Y/N, I’d love to take you guys out tonight to the Boneyard, I was going to text you about it before, but something with my Dad-” 

“That’s fine, but we just don’t know where exactly the Boneyard is.”

“That’s okay, JJ’s got us covered,” You exclaimed, before exchanging a friendly wink to JJ who just managed to catch it.

***

“You texted JJ our address right?” You persisted, growing anxious by the thought that perhaps JJ might’ve forgotten about you two. 

“Yes, for the last time Y/N could you just relax. He should be here any minute now!” 

And just on cue, in the close distance, the roaring sound of an old engine with dull headlights belonging to one of those old, retro “hippie” vans had pulled up through your drive-way. JJ’s head popped out excitedly by the window, waving for you guys to join, and immediately you both walked over. 

It was difficult to convince your father of going out tonight, in fact, he’d been pestering you both to get out and mingle. As soon as you’d both approached him with the idea of heading out to some party, he leaped with relief, and encouraged you both to take up the offer. He was easy going like that, trusted you both knowing how well he’d raised you both. Of course, he covered some basic ground-rules: no drinking, no drugs, no smoking. 

By the time you’d both arrived to the van, you could just make out the silhouettes of some figures inside the van through the grimey windows. JJ was out of the van, as the courteous man that he was, pulling the side door right open. 

“John B-” Pointing to the boy on the driver’s seat, who gave you a friendly wave, made himself known. 

“Kie-” A lovely, young girl, exchanged a gracious smile and nod to both Anya and yourself, before JJ finally introduced “And this is Pope-”, a young, pleasant man sat beside Kie. 

“Guys this is Anya, and her older sister Y/N. They just moved here like a week ago.” 

“Nice to meet you all, thanks for letting us join you guys tonight-” You warmly proclaimed, before gesturing Anya into the van with you following her behind. 

As JJ was carefully closing the door behind you, John B mentioned how JJ spoke of you two, confessing you to be the “mystery newcomers” before kindly welcoming you to the Outer Banks. 

You felt Kie’s over gaze fall between yourself and Anya, and felt somewhat intimidated, although it there was no threatening intent to it, however more of a protective sentiment. 

“So you guys are Kooks, huh?” Kie blatantly questioned, before Pope nudged his elbow into her, as though to signal her to stop whatever interrogation she had planned. 

“Sorry, what?”- Anya questioned in response, frowning as she looked around the van, back to you.

“Kie, stop. They don’t know about any of that stuff. Just drop it, okay!” JJ insisted, as he ran his fingers through his blonde locks, almost in frustration. 

“We really have no idea what this whole Pogue-Kook business is, but perhaps you could enlighten us one day, Kie-” You suggested, as amiable as possible, not wanting to already cross the line with the few locals you’d just met. 

“I sure will, I just can’t believe you guys live with Topper. He’s such an-”

“Ass?-” Anya intervened, finishing off Kie’s sentence precisely the way she intended, making Kie smile in agreement. 

“Yeah, I don’t think he likes us very much,” Anya confessed, and as much as you hated “gossiping”, you couldn’t deny this one. 

“Well Kie, you’re on to talk… What about your Kook year?” John B laughingly mocked, as Kie infuriatingly shoved his shoulder. 

“S-So what exactly is the difference between a Pogue and a Kook?” You intriguingly questioned, shifting your gaze from Kie to Pope. 

“Well, to put it short, Pogues live on the Cut, which I assume Topper would rather die than enter. Whereas yourselves and our Kie here, live on Figure 8,” Pope answered.

“So it’s just a social class thing?” You quipped, being reminded again of how very unprogressive things were around the Outer Banks. 

“Exactly!-” Kie shouted, a hint of relief, as though finally finding someone who’d shared mutual understanding with her cause. 

“I mean there’s more to it-” JJ added.

“But it’s best if you guys don’t get as involved, your only just new here-” He calmly reassured.

“Just keep an eye out for the Kooks, they usually come to these sort of events anyways for the booze they can’t afford-” Kie ridiculed. 

“Yeah, especially Rafe-” Pope uttered, his tone reeking of bitterness to the name. 

“Wait-Who exactly is that? The name just sounds familiar-” You brush off, not wanting to vex Pope any further. 

“Good God, he’s the worst of the worst-” Pope scorned. 

“An asshole-” Kie provoked. 

“He’s the older brother of Sarah Cameron, I’m sure you’ve met her. She’s Topper’s girlfriend,” John B confessed.

“HA! Topper has a girlfriend, since when?!” Anya broke out mockingly laughing: as Kie and JJ chuckled to her comedic outburst. 

“He must be that bad, huh?” You uttered, as the rest began to settle themselves. 

“He’s a terrible person, Y/N. If I was you guys, I’d avoid him at all costs,-” Pope insisted, although by the seriousness of his voice, it seemed more of a warning than anything. 

***

The Boneyard was a secluded location of the island, where the ashy white trunks of dead logs were arranged in a way to accompany large crowds, and rowdy parties far from the complaints of the adults. As you’d all arrived, kegs ready at the hand, the party had already commenced, as people from which John B described had consisted of Pogues, Kook and tourists. Regardless, all strangers to you. 

As you finally eased yourself into that party mood, you found yourself enjoying the company of the Pogues, they were quite the friendly bunch. And it seemed ANya was letting loose as well, no thanks to her new-found companions: it always seemed like an impossible mission for Anya to enjoy herself, although witnessing her from the standpoint of a bystander, you felt comforted. 

“I’m just going to go grab myself a drink-” You assured John B, as he nodded in agreement. 

As you crammed yourself through the crowd, you felt a tight grip pulling on your elbow, making you topple in the direction of whomever it was that grabbed you. 

“Topper, what the fuck?”

“How the hell did you get here, let alone find out about this?” He exclaimed, by the faint smell of the beer oozing with each breath, you could tell he was slowly becoming intoxicated.

“No thanks to you-” You snapped, before jolting your arm out of his strained grip. 

“Seriously, Y/N. Does your Dad even know you’re here?”

Before you could even respond, some sort of internal sixth sense, felt an intense pair of eyes on you. As you shifted your gaze, to a bunch of people standing behind Topper, you’d immediately recognised his face. 

For some odd reason you felt a shiver crawl down your spine, as though in fright of seeing some ghostly figure. His intense, blue eyes just fixated on you and only you, as he took sips of his drink, with one hand snugged away in a front pocket. It seemed he was in conversation with a bunch of other guys, all dressed quite similarly to one another in their polo shirts and summer shorts, and yet he was not at all engaged... Only to you.  

“Earth to Y/N!” Topper loudly interjected, stirring you to snap back, as you fixed your view on him. 

“Y-Yes, yes he does. Now could you just let me be?” 

And before you knew it, you instinctively stormed off, before Topper had the chance to drunkenly question you any longer. As you disappeared into the crowd, heading for the kegger, your mind persisted in contemplation. 

That was Rafe, surely. You vividly remembered the whole, minor incident during your first encounter with him. 

After what the Pogues had confessed about him, and by his looming nature, you’d never felt so unnerved by someone, you’d in fact, never even met.

But why?

TAGLIST - @juliep7654 @foggybanditgardenprune​

[oftenderweapons]

hello 👀 first of all i love your writing. second of all idk if you saw joon’s make up artist reaching up to him to fix his makeup on set but i could think about vixen bc we all know how volatile and jealous she may get.... so may i suggest a joon x vixen jealous sex drabble??? thank u!!!

Hello, dear reader. Thank you soooo much for the compliments. I couldn’t help but deliver, it literally wrote itself. There you go 💜✨

title: yours, truly

pairing: namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

wordcount: 2.7k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

synopsis: Vixen doesn't appreciate the imbalance between her belonging to Namjoon and his belonging to her, and although she understands the limits due to his job, at the same time she's uncomfortable about the way she feels. However, Namjoon is eager to reassure her.

trigger warnings: argument on jealousy and double standards. There is one very specific passage where Namjoon imposes himself physically on Vixen, grabbing her and pinning her while she's trying to get away from him. If this triggers you, please do not read further. On to sexual topics: mention of cunnilingus, masturbation (male and female receiving), unprotected sex (BE SMART!!!!!!), marking, power struggle, several occurrences of pinning and top-bottom shifts.

a/n: Hello people, here's the first of several drabbles I've been working on. Please, stay tuned cause HOPEFULLY Jimin and Princess should be next 💖

Here's my masterlist enjoy 💜✨

⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂ ⁕ ⁂

You stormed into the apartment, Namjoon hot on your heels.

“Vixen,” he called, watching you take off your shoes with a frown on your face. “Babylove.”

You lifted a finger, inviting him to keep quiet before you stood and headed to your room.

“Vixen?” he called, once more. He knew what had happened, and he knew you didn't mean to act like that. He knew you didn't like feeling jealous or possessive, but the footage of him wrapping an arm around his makeup artist — even if it was just to keep her from falling — had unsettled you more than you wanted to admit.

There were women who dried his sweat and helped him change his clothes and saw him half naked regularly, and they were out there doing so publicly, while you didn't even own a picture of him kissing you. After being together for six months. After him asking you to be his wife.

To anyone except his friends and family, you were nothing but a stranger to him.

“Vixen?”

You were his. Always. All the time. You wore his clothes and had his marks on you from Monday to Sunday, twenty-four seven, uninterruptedly ever since he'd first told you he loves you — with an unintended pause because of the tour.

But what about him? Did he even belong to you?

He called your name shyly, fearsomely. “Look at me, please.”

“I'm going to take a bath,” you announced dryly.

“I'm coming with you,” he replied, already taking off his clothes.

“I want to be alone.”

He inhaled and did the crudest, most animalistic thing he could think of. He grabbed your waist and made you face him. “Vixen. Look at me.”

You shook your head and tutted.

“Say 'no' and I'll let you go,” he said, his voice booming like thunder.

You stayed silent.

“Look at me,” he repeated, an arm around your waist, his free one coming up so he could grip your chin and force your eyes to meet his. “Like this.”

“I hate this!” you spat, looking away right before he forced you to meet his eyes again. “It's not fair!” You snarled before angrily pushing the heel of your foot against his toes.

He hissed and let you go, only to catch you once more half a second later, pinning you against the wall. “Talk to me.”

Your brow furrowed, your eyes like a dark storm, you looked at the floor as you admitted, “I have no right to feel jealous. And I hate it. It’s not fair.”

Namjoon hugged you to him, kissing your head as you pressed your forehead to his chest.

“I’m so sorry, I just… hate that you make me feel like this. It’s not you, it’s how I feel about what you do. That is, the position you’re in.” You bit your lip nervously, gripping his shirt in your fists.

Namjoon didn’t quite understand what you meant by that, but reversing the situation gave him a quite poignant point of view. The idea of you being chaperoned by other men at all time, of you being in his shoes, with people drooling over you at all times, being backstage and having no privacy with or without your clothes on, people imagining you as their partner, as their hot one night stand, as their one true love.

The thought of having to share you the same way you had to share him all the time made a shiver run down his spine. He knew he would never be able to tolerate all the things you went through for him without batting an eye. “I’m so sorry, love.” He ran his hands to the back of your thighs lowering himself to pick you up, your arms latching behind his neck as he did so. “I’m so, so sorry, little fox,” he repeated, his voice so deep and soothing.

“I’m okay, it’s just that…”

He kissed your cheek as he sat on the bed, placing you on top of him, straddling his hips. “You’re not okay, and that’s alright.” He waited for you to oppose as he let his lips linger one millimeter from yours.

Shyly, almost as if reluctantly, you pressed your mouth to his, feeling his hand on your nape, tangling in your hair, the other one pressed to the small of your back. “Take off your clothes, please,” you whispered in between kisses. Unquestioningly, he took off his undershirt, your body still on top of his while you undid the buttons of your blouse — actually, only a couple of them before you slipped it off from over your head. Namjoon’s hands went around your waist, lifting the lace and satin top you were wearing underneath, pressing his nose to your sternum once your torso was so enticingly naked, your body rising to your knees so he could reach your breastbone more comfortably, your arms hugging his head.

“You’re so precious, my babylove. So strong,” he murmured, “You’re so understanding and I’m so glad when you open up to me.” He inhaled you as he confessed some more of his worries, “I always fear that someday it will feel too much and you’ll leave.”

You shook your head, squishing his face in your palms before standing before him, taking off your jeans lightning-fast, watching him quickly remove his slacks and underwear in one go.

“Come claim it, babe,” he growled, extending his hands to you, making a come-hither motion.

You wiggled out of your panties and smiled sweetly, joining him, sitting on his lap and batting your eyelashes with a cute pout, Namjoon shaking his head at you with a knowing grin. And at that, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him down. “You really thought?”

He licked his lips and rolled his eyes. “I, at least, hoped.” His hands landed on your ass before you could grab his wrists and pin them above his head while you made your way up, your naked fold glistening with wetness already in the unforgivingly bright light of your bedroom.

You knew he had a thing for keeping the lights on anyways.

“Come on, sit,” he said, his arms fighting you only playfully as he ached to grab your ass and make you ride his face.

“No.” Your reply was lapidary as your free hand began to tease the skin around your sex — not yet your folds, nor your clit,

“Vixen.” Your name sounded like a warning.

“Maybe you’ll learn I can do without you.”

“Enough,” he growled before his arms escaped your weak excuse of a grip, his jaw locked and his eyes stern in what would be nothing but his hard dom look. “You think you’re funny?”

The way he pushed you with your back to the mattress, your arms trying to save you from losing your balance, made your heartbeat flutter.

“You think I don’t know that already? You think that doesn’t scare me to the bone?” He hissed as he laid on top of you, holding back his weight only slightly. “We know who can do without who here,” he said, his eyes so tormented you wanted to comfort him. “I’m half a soul without you.”

You wrapped your legs around him, rubbing your pelvis against his hardening cock. “Stay with me, then. Remind me.” You placed your lips against his neck, licking up the curve of his throat before bringing your lips to his ear. “Are you mine, Joonie?”

His eyes rolled shut, his head moving in a nodding motion. “I only want to be yours. All the time. I wish we could be naked and alone every single second.”

You giggled and moved your hand between your bodies. “Can I stretch a little? I need you inside.”

“Do you want me to do that?” He asked, right before you shook your head. “Fuck, ____, you're fucking perfect,” he murmured, kissing down your body, licking your nipple, sucking it briefly. “I'm so in love.”

“Do you remember what I told you that night?” you asked him, purring as you pushed two fingers inside you.

“That you're gonna be my wife, someday?”

You chuckled and nodded. Sometimes it felt unreal that he had proposed to you. Already.

And that the ring around your right fourth finger was not your family ring.

“I told you I'm dedicating my life to you. That I want to live by your side for as long as we can. That I believe in you.”

He found solace in the crook of your neck, his lips searching for your collarbone before his teeth nibbled at it gently. “Don't stop. Ever.”

A third finger entered your hole, stretching your inner walls until you were comfortable. Still, you were too impatient to wait any longer, grabbing his cock and placing its tip against your folds. “I won't,” you promised, a loud gasp leaving your mouth as he sank in. “Fuck, too big.”

Namjoon backtracked as quickly as possible, but your hands stopped him just in time. “No, no, stay inside, please. I can get used to it.” Your nails sunk into his ass. “Don't go. Please.”

Namjoon inhaled, trying to keep his cool as much as possible. “I should have prepped you.” He groaned and pressed your face into his neck. “Hold tight, love. I need to shift just a little.”

You loved when he pampered you like that, when he treated you like his delicate porcelain doll. With a loud exhale, he fixed his position until he could rest more easily and resist your tight squeezes as you adjusted to him filling you to the brim. In maybe a minute, you shifted your hips, whispering, “Okay, move, please.”

“That's my good girl,” he replied, smiling at you before giving one slow, smooth stroke that made you purr and throw your head back, his tongue drawing the arch of your throat. “My jealous little thing, mh? You're so adorable.” He gave another deep, slow thrust, watching you writhe below him, legs shaking as they tensed up in pleasure. And then again, pulling out and pushing in making your toes curl, your entire mind malfunctioning into bliss.

“I love it when you're jealous,” he taunted you. “Makes me feel so wanted.” He drew the shell of your ear with his lips, your body drowning in sensations, too small to handle all he had to offer. “Almost as sexy and as desirable as you are. My little fox.”

“Joonie…” you almost sobbed, clawing at his shoulders before remembering you must absolutely not, throwing your hands off him and tugging at the sheets.

Namjoon nuzzled his nose against the side of your face. “Scratch, mark, bite. I don't care. I'm yours, Vixen.”

You whimpered and forced yourself not to. Maybe you just wanted to see who would cave first, maybe you were still feeling too petty about all the times you had been denied.

“Do it. I know you want it,” he tempted you. “Take what you want, little fox.”

You shook your head and brought yourself not only to pin your hands in place, but also turn your face away.

Namjoon rammed into you aggressively at your act of defiance, causing you to gasp and flinch. “Claim me. Do it, ____. I belong to you. Won't you acknowledge that?”

Lips sealed, eyes closed, you fought him, knowing you were absolutely hopeless the moment he pulled you on top of him. “See. This is what you do to me. Look at me. Look at the mess I become for you. For you, alone. No one else in the whole world, Vixen. Only you.” He led his hand on your belly, rubbing at your clit with his thumb, letting you grind on him with your own pace. He only wanted to make you feel good. “Vixen, please, baby. Look at me.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, your hands on his pectorals, your hips moving on him so naturally, so comfortably. He looked beautiful. Grandiose. Magnificent.

He looked like the only man you would ever look at. You knew there was no way you would look at anyone else if he was in the room.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked fondly, placing his hand atop of yours, lacing your fingers together.

“That you're the only one for me. That I need something of you that belongs to me alone.”

He shifted your hands slightly, his engulfing your own on top of his beating heart. “Here. Yours. All yours. Take it.”

You started going faster, needing for the messy ordeal to come to an end so you could sleep the afternoon away wrapped up in his arms.

With quick swivels of your hips, you changed your angle, making sure that he rubbed against your sweet spot, deep inside you.

“Guess what else is yours?” he teased, looking down, keeping his finger steady against your sensitive nub.

“Your exceedingly large dick?” you suggested with a gleam in your voice, sending the both of you into a tumble of laughs.

“Exactly,” he replied playfully. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” you replied quickly, feeling your high spiral out of control. “Cumming.”

“Let go,” he reassured you, catching you with his arm once your body collapsed, his thumb still teasing you while he started thrusting from below, making sure that your orgasm peaked and extinguished in pleasure before he finally climaxed, knowing all too well that your final squeezes would trigger his own ecstasy.

“Doesn't it feel good to cum on your favourite dick, mh?”

“My one and only,” you stated openly, watching him get increasingly worked up. “Show me who you belong to, Joon. You say you're mine? Then cum inside me.”

He shut his eyes tight. “Come on. Gimme all you've got,” you taunted him.

He grit his teeth and shook his head. He needed better leverage to go harder.

You understood that immediately. “Wanna get on top?”

He was conflicted, but in the end you found yourself with your back once more to the mattress, his cock pushing inside you so hard and fast that you were ready to start all over again if it weren't for the numbing sleepiness pulling at your mind.

“I'm yours,” he gritted out, in between strokes, like a mantra. “Get it into your pretty head that I'm yours. That I only want you. For the rest of my life,” he breathed out the final part. “I'm gonna—” and with a wildly erotic growl you felt him swell inside you before his release flowed into you, his body too sensitive to handle the high for too long.

Once he was done, there was nothing but spent, panting bodies, your hand in his hair as you helped him calm down.

“Are you feeling better, little fox?” he asked, taking your joined hands and bringing your knuckles to his lips. “If we swapped roles for a day, you the idol and I the normal person, I don't think I would be able to face it like you do.”

With your eyes closed, you waited for him to pull the two of you on your sides, your head on his chest, legs tangled together as he rubbed his feet against yours lazily and lasciviously.

“I know you don't like feeling jealous and I'm sorry that I made you feel that. You always say it's part of my job and you're understanding, but we both know it's hard to stop these emotions from happening.”

You nodded, inhaling his scent, so deeply mixed with yours. “It's worth it though. Because of the man you are, and what you mean to me.”

He kissed your head.

“I need to clean up. I want to sleep with you.”

He nodded. You were both more than happy to cancel the date and just sleep in, wrapped up in light sheets on the late September day.

Once washed and ready for sleep, Namjoon found your perfect position, your right hand in his left one as he toyed with your ring, pushing it around. Even though he had proposed, he knew the wait would be long. Still, he tried. “How much time left?” he asked, the question a cliché between the two of you by now. You always knew what it meant to him.

“A while,” you replied — your usual answer.

He nodded and pulled you closer. “Sleep tight, baby fox.”

“Sleep tight, big bear.”

[sciapod]

Bathtub Photoshoot 💦

Pairing: Henry Cavill x First Person-POV (Female, or at least X wears a bra and has breasts)

Summary: Little private photosesh' with Henners and then some.

Warnings: Dry humping but let's just call it grinding. Edging. 18+ to be safe!! Contains smut. You might be able to find the tiniest bit of angst. And bit of fluff.

Word count: 2.5K

Not beta’ed! I take full responsibility for this fuckup.

Inspired/prompted by this post by @cavillfics

Masterlist

I obviously don't own Henry Cavill, nor do I know him IRL, so it goes without saying that this is a figment of my imagination.

(I took the liberty to edit the photo just a bit and don’t know who to credit for the original edit. Let me know if you know, so I can give credit where it's due.)

Happy reading 💦

---

“Babe, I've got an idea! Can you do something for me, please?”

When I heard you coming through the front door, I rushed to meet you there. You were finally home again and was hanging your jacket on the coat rack when I found you.

“Oh, well,” you reply, “I really want to just lean back, maybe take a shower or something. It’s been a long week, babe. And hello, by the way.”

You step over to me, reach around my waist and pull me against your firm body.

“Mhm, you smell lovely,” you whisper in my hair. I sigh, then wiggle myself free of your embrace.

“Henry, listen,” I look up at you with my best attempt at puppy eyes. You breathe deeply and turn your face, scratching mine with your stubble. It sends shivers through my body.

“Okay,” you hum as your hands roam my body, finding their way to my bare thighs then sneaking up beneath my robe, “tell me.”

I grab your hips and press my core against your thigh as I lean backwards, looking up at you, “I want to take some pictures … of you.”

Your face goes through a range of emotions; surprised, suspicious, smirking, friendly and finally incredibly charismatic: Front-page-style smile.

“That’s the one!” I say with excitement.

“Which one?” you tease, furrowing your brow and looking all suspicious again.

“You know perfectly well, you buffoon!” I say, as I slap your chest playfully.

My entire body lifts when you laugh. You kiss my forehead and twirl some of my hair between a few fingers. Your eyes shift, gazing at various areas of my face. I sigh, then reach for your hands, the one playing with my hair and the other, which I find gently caressing the lace of my panties.

I hold your hands between us and look up at my man.

“You do realize, of course, that you are basically a Greek god carved out of stone.”

“I have been told so, yes.”

“And you do realize that every artist needs a muse, a model, to create from.”

“I have a faint idea of that, yes,” you say, smirking down at me.

“And I happen to be short of a project, and subject, for my portfolio.”

“I see,” your smile broadens, “but what does that have to do with me?”

“Henry!”

My declining patience must have been obvious somewhere in my face or perhaps my exclamation, because you burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you do so. I can’t help but melt a little.

“Tell me what you need me to do, darling,” you say, stroking my hands with your thumbs. I feel warmth spread through my chest. Your face softens and I feel the warmth spread further down.

“Fuck,” I breathe, casting my eyes to the floor. I’m suddenly filled with all kinds of insecurities, imposter syndrome and such, but there’s a reason why you’re my man. You sense it immediately and lift my hands to your lips, kissing them sincerely.

“You’ve got this, babe.”

I sigh, “I know, sweetheart. It's just… Urgh.”

You kiss my forehead.

“Tell me your idea.”

“I…” My voice breaks. You lift my chin up with a single finger, as if it were suddenly light as a feather, forcing me to look into your striking blue eyes.

“I don’t know,” I finally exclaim. “I didn’t have a concrete idea. I just knew that I wanted you to be in the photos.”

You smile, almost apologetically, “Okay, look. I really want to help. But I’m so damn tired. I’ve got an idea, though, of how we may be able to hit two birds with one stone.”

“Okaay?” I say, a slight tinge of hope seeping into my core again.

“I need a bath–”

“–I can’t take a nude picture of you!”

You laugh again, but shake your head, “No, silly. Let me finish.”

My cheeks flush scarlet.

“I need a bath, but instead of taking a shower, I’ll jump in the tub. Once in there, you can have me do whatever you want.”

I squint my eyes, then see a lightbulb flash on.

“YES!” I almost yell, running my hands up your torso and leaning in for a kiss.

“Yes,” I repeat, then press my lips against your sculpted ones. It is as if your lips curl to a smile amidst the kiss.

“Yes,” I say one last time, meeting your eyes, “If you get the water running, I’ll collect my gear.”

Your hands go wandering about on my hips again, dragging my robe up and making my hairs stand on end. You look down at me with a confident smile, saying, “great minds think alike.”

I fight off the urge to kiss you again and instead draw away from you. You catch the waistband of my robe and it slides off as I step away, revealing the new set of lingerie I’m wearing underneath. I stand, looking at you with what I imagine is the expression of a suspicious feline. You, on the other hand, make a low whistle and shake your head in slow motion, clearly surprised and pleased to see what I was hiding beneath. Then you nod toward the living room, signalling I get on with finding my camera.

It takes me a few minutes to find the right lens. When I enter the bathroom, you’re in the process of unbuckling your belt. The tap is running and there’s already a bit of water in the tub.

“Wait,” I say, stopping you just as you’re about to pull your jeans down, “I think I want you in the water dressed.”

You stare for a moment, shrug, say “sure,” then proceed to tug your jeans over your perky bum again.

“Right, erm,” I think for a moment, “No, you know what? Lose the pants, but keep the t-shirt on.”

“Lose the pants,” you repeat and let your jeans fall to the floor. As you stand back up, I realize something.

“We might have a problem,” I say, eyeing the hefty bulge in your boxers.

You follow my gaze, noticing the same problem, then nod in agreement.

“But then again,” you say, “what did you expect, looking like that?” you hint at my open robe and lingerie.

We both shrug, then burst laughing.

“I guess we’ll just have to make it work!” I say, “Now, in the tub with you, buddy.”

You feel the temperature of the water and deciding that it’s decent, turn off the tap, step in and lie down. There’s not a lot of water in there, but I’m assuming it will do. You look up at me with anticipation, “Now what?”

I squint at you, finding the bulge slightly distracting, basically towering above the waterline like another Burj Khalifa. Obviously, you notice my lack of response.

“Hey, babe!” you say, snapping me out of it. I feel my nether region clench.

“Okay, okay!” I shake my head to wake up. You shake yours too, smirking at me.

“We need to do something about that,” I say.

“I can try to hide it?” you suggest.

“How?” I squint. It’s a mastodon of a package you has stored down there, I think to myself.

“Anyway, I need to find a position to photograph you from.”

I begin taking random photos of you from various angles and perspectives, simultaneously adjusting the settings on the camera as I do so. Meanwhile, you roll around to one side, then the other, then back again. The squeaking sounds of your body rubbing against the sides of the tub while you change poses makes the whole situation rather comedic, and I'm convinced you're doing it even worse on purpose. Determined to be somewhat professional, I try to ignore your distractions.

“It’s a good thing we have such good lighting in here,” I say, gazing around the small room, pretending to be focused and ignorant of your attempts at sabotage.

“How do you want me, babe? I feel like… I don’t even know? A fish out of water,” you say, doubting your own wording, “or something like that.”

I sigh, “I know, I get it. I need to think. We’ve also still got that… situation… going on.” I gesture at the, no less apparent, tent between your legs.

“Okay,” you say calmly, “I’ll just lie back and relax, while you think of something.”

“Good.”

As you settle into a comfortable position, I mentally run through the various “golden rules” of photography that I can remember.

Then it’s as if I notice the obvious. The absolute god-like adonis carved in marble in front of me: My initial inspiration. Your white t-shirt, soaked from all the turning and splashing around you did, is sticking to your chest and abs, enhancing the lines of your muscular torso, yet still in a perfectly suggestive fashion; somewhat similar to the drapery you see on these same sculptures. In a fit of impulse, I crawl up to stand on the edges of the tub.

You open your eyes –awoken by my scramblings– fear in your eyes as you reach for me, “be careful, babe!”

“No no, darling! Stay put!” I say, “I’m perfectly safe. It’s dry. My feet are dry. I’m stable, but thank you.” I smile, reassuringly. Suspicious yet accepting, you lower your arms and lie back down. I notice your eyes trail down my exposed body. Lust now clear as daylight in your gaze.

“I think I’ve got the photo soon, babe, then we’re done,” I explain. “Just close your eyes for me.”

You shake your head and smile, then do as I said.

Your head rests on the back of the tub, but your fingers begin fidgeting … around your nether region.

“Are you uncomfortable?” I ask between photos.

“No…” you smirk, eyes still closed, but you shift and rest your hands awkwardly on your stomach instead.

“We can’t have that,” I say, “you’re covering the main part of the photo,” I tease.

You open your eyes, still smirking but not saying a word.

“And you’re revealing, exposing, what we need to hide,” I try to hold back my laugh.

“Okay,” I continue, “what about… what if you hold your t-shirt at the hem and stretch it down to cover your crotch. Place your other hand casually beside it. Yeah, like that! Exactly, babe. Beautiful.”

I take a couple of photos and look at them on the tiny screen.

“Right, hold that pose, but just… kinda relax, if you can. I’ll take a few shots more and then you’re done!”

You close your eyes again and begin taking deep breaths, lessening the tension that must have been building in your shoulders over the last few days. As peace falls upon your face and body, I take the last photos. After quickly reviewing them on the tiny screen, I decide that I’m done. I turn off my camera and place it on the shelf above the tub before crawling down to sit on the edge of the tub, my feet in the water between your legs.

“Okay, it’s a wrap!”

Your eyes flash open and you let go of your t-shirt. The fabric bounces back, revealing your hairy tummy, teasing me. You look up at me with mischief, then give your member a squeeze.

“Get down here,” you say, almost ferocious in your voice.

I feel myself get all giddy with sudden anticipation as you rise like Poseidon from the water. Before I can do anything other than yelp, you pull me down onto you and with a splash and a thud I land against your rock-hard body. I'm instantly soaked.

“Finally,” you mutter, drenching my face and neck with hungry kisses. Your hands tease the collar of my robe before sliding it over my shoulders. Your eyes explore the curves of my upper body, then you adjust me so that I sit straddled upon you. You don’t speak a word, but your eyes and body say everything I need to know.

I feel your girth throbbing against me. You slide my robe all the way off and without taking your eyes off me, you cast it aside. Then your hands slide up my body. You cup my breasts tenderly, admiring the lace and how the new style of bra suits my breasts. You lick your lips as your thumbs begin stroking my hardening nipples. I sigh and begin grinding against the tip of your member.

You sit up and proceed to kiss and bite the flesh of my breasts. Gently holding the lace aside with your fingers, you capture my nipples between your teeth, ever so gently, before circling your tongue around them with exquisite attention. While squeezing my breasts together, you kiss them one after the other, back and forth, before venturing up to my collarbone and neck. All I can do is whimper and moan.

Then you grasp my hair, pulling my head back. Between kisses and bites on my exposed neck, you breathe damp, sultry words onto my skin. Expressions of how I’ve been a tease, how patient you’ve been and how much you want me now. I want to answer, but I can’t do anything but mutter incoherencies; your throbbing cock eagerly pressing against my core and thus stealing all of my vocabulary.

My breath quickens as I grind harder, cursing the fabrics that keep our cores from meeting, merging. Then you push me towards you, allowing our lips to meet in hungry kisses. My bra loosens. You must have managed to open and take it off me with your other hand, before also casting it aside. You grab at my liberated breasts, then sit up and pull your drenched t-shirt over your head. It lands on the bathroom floor with a splash. My hands instinctively seek the wet fur of your stomach and chest, momentarily squeezing your pecs, then wander south again.

Your eyes read pure hunger and you buck your hips. As I fall back down from the jump, my core meets the powerful strength of your pelvis, bucking yet again. I gasp, overcome by a mixture of arousal and humor. You buck again, a laugh escapes me and somehow, after a few times of this, you’ve managed to free your erection from your boxers. I didn’t notice, but at some point you must have turned on the tap again, because I see you turn it back off. I guess this increased level of water also explains the more slow-motion-like sensation I experience as I land back down on your pelvis; a somewhat softer landing than before. In my own defence, I was entranced and my mind was not functioning at 100%, hence the questionable description. Anyway, both our hips are now submerged under water and I simply shake my head at your mischievous ways. You smirk and pull me down to a deep kiss, slapping my ass through the water, making more water splash all over the place. Everything in the room is certainly wet by now.

I grind against your exposed and infinitely hard cock as your fingers slider under the lace. Your hands grab my cheeks with determination, enhancing the force and enabling you to better thrust against my grinding motion. The friction is causing short-circuits in my brain, making me see colours that aren’t there. My first climax is staggeringly near, but just before I get to release, you buck your hips again, making me scoot off your cock. A devious grin is smeared across your chiseled face.

“You had me waiting, sweetheart. Now it’s my turn to tease.”

---

Thanks for reading my shitpost! Please leave a comment of your thoughts, however nonsensical they may be 💜🙏

Tags in the reblog 🖤Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list.

[ddarker-dreams]

Unwanted Intrusions. Yan Childe x Reader

Warnings: Unbalanced power dynamics and suggestive themes. Word count: 1.3k. Note: Reposted due to tumblr’s awful not showing posts in tag problem : ))))

It’s no exaggeration to say this order could keep your parent’s business afloat.

For once, you feel as if the Geo Archon has heard your prayers and answered them. Maintaining your composure has never felt so challenging. Standing just to the side of this godsend customer, a genuine smile adorns your face, hands clasped behind your back. She examines the petals of every blossom with scrutiny. You’re more than confident that the assortment will be to her liking, pearly white qingxin’s that took arduous days to obtain.

All she needs to do is confirm what she spoke about earlier. Lian, as she had introduced herself, is a wedding coordinator for a wealthy merchant in Liyue. As funding isn’t an issue, she had considered purchasing your entire stock for the event. It’s a rather last-minute affair and you can’t imagine any other florists could pull it off. How overjoyed your parents will be when they hear this news, they’ll finally be able to rest easily at night. The financial burden that you’ve sought to relieve them of is just within reach.

Lian straightens her posture and looks to you, clearly pleased and reaching for her Mora purse. “It’s as you said, these qingxin’s have undeniable quality. Now then, let’s--”

“Ah, there you are, [First]! Working hard as ever, I take it. Though, if memory serves, isn’t this your day off?”

No. This can not be happening to you. The timing is far too cruel -- an insult, if anything -- blood draining from your face at the grating sound of Childe’s voice. Lian looks at the Fatui standing by the entrance with palpable disdain, and words escape you entirely. It’s no secret that the Fatui have put a hurting on local business, including the very merchant this wedding is meant to be for. Clearing your throat, you struggle to find your verbal foothold, hoping to salvage the rapidly devolving situation.

“I’m sorry sir, but I’m incredibly busy at the moment.” Your tone is aloof as you can manage. Childe leans against the entranceway, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head. You recognize that damned expression. It’s the look that comes right before Childe throws you to the wolves for his entertainment.

“I don’t mind waiting. We have a lot to go over since our discussion was cut short last time, remember?”

Lian pivots on her heel, already making for the door. “It seems you’re otherwise preoccupied at the moment. Best of luck with your… future endeavors.”

Your jaw is agape as Lian exists with haste. It feels like the Mora you were so close to obtaining slipped through your fingers, hot indignation flaring at Childe’s purposeful interruption. It’d be naïve to think this a mere coincidence. As soon as she’s gone, Childe makes straight for you, sizing up your displeased body language.

“What a shame,” Childe sighs, running a hand through his tousled copper hair. “Do you think it was something I said?”

“Why are you here?” You snap, arms crossing over your chest. The paper-thin patience you have when speaking to Childe is nonexistent this time around. It’s inevitable that every time you’re free of him for a while, that he makes up for it by intruding in the worst ways possible. The past three or so weeks without Childe lingering like a bad omen have been divine. A much-needed reprieve cut short far too soon.

Childe hums, canting his head down to get a closer look at you. “I think that’s rather obvious, [First]. I missed our little chats.”

He sounds pleased with himself. Frowning, you put your hands on his chest and push, hoping to create some space. Childe doesn’t so much as budge at your feeble attempts. His strength might not be noticeable at first glance, as his body is rather lean and slim. Unfortunately for you, it’s on display now, your force not even making him blink. Arms falling limp to your side in defeat, you recognize he’s not going to be giving personal space anytime soon.

“That’s great, but you’re scaring away my customers.” You grumble, standing on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. The situation outside makes your stomach churn in displeasure. Just outside the window, you catch the distinctive outfit of two Fatui guards, standing watch on the premises. Any passerby, Liyue natives or not, will undoubtedly be repelled by the sight.

“I would never,” he lets out a dramatized gasp, laughing at the deadpan stare you give in return. “Wow, what an intimidating glare! Endearing as that is, I much prefer how you look when your lips are on my--”

“Be quiet!” You hiss quietly, cheeks set ablaze, the room suddenly feeling too hot. “My parents are upstairs, you idiot.”

There’s a gleam in his eyes at the mention of this that fills you with despair. “That’s actually what I’m here for. I’ve never had the opportunity to introduce myself to them as your partner, isn’t that a custom in Liyue? Family is important, after all, it’s best to respect these things.”

Is that what he considers himself to be? Your partner?

You have no positive emotional connection to Childe, considering the Harbinger to be a persistent blight on your life. Every deplorable favor you exchanged -- at his behest -- was for the sake of alleviating the financial burden on your family. Carnal pleasure for the Fatui to cease harassing over their unpaid debt. What was done in the dark should remain there, as the humiliation attached to it is too great.

“You’re no such thing to me,” comes your detached response, cutting through the air like a knife. Childe’s lips curl into an uncharacteristic frown at your unhesitant rebuke. “For the last time, please leave so I can do my job.”

Silence. There’s no playful quip or arrogant laughter. Only an icy, piercing stare that sends shivers down your spine. You’ve never been on the receiving end of this look from Childe, who always seems to hold nothing but boundless adoration and favor on you. Swallowing thickly, you hold your ground, somehow managing to maintain eye contact.

“No such thing, huh?” He murmurs, your words bitter on his tongue. You shift uncomfortably, fists clenching by your side. Outside, you can hear the sounds of children playing, merchants bartering, and carts going by filled with various goods. The world is at a standstill in your humble store. Neither you nor Childe makes a move, tension steadily increasing as each second passes slower than the last.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your heart drops. What does he mean by that? Sensing your newfound distress, he pats you on the head, in an act you can only describe as demeaning.

Childe reaches into his pocket, pulling out a personal belonging that sends your head reeling. A dainty necklace, unmistakable in its origin, glistening in front of you temptingly. That’s your mother’s necklace. A family heirloom for centuries, that she painstakingly pawned off to keep the flower shop afloat amidst financial turmoil. Wide-eyed, you reach out for it, only for Childe to lift it above your reach.

He shakes his head, smiling maliciously. “I guess I won’t be needing this any longer. I was hoping to win your parent’s favor with this little gift, but if that’s how you feel, why should I bother?”

“Childe, I’m--”

“Hm, not so cold now, are we?” He laughs, a sound devoid of humanity, placing the necklace away as fast as he took it out. Is this guilt that weighs on your soul? Agony? Hatred? You’re uncertain. Everything is happening too fast to mentally keep up with, Childe once again making a fool of you. You grit your teeth, taking in deep breaths to steady yourself. He stares at you with feigned disinterest.

“If you happen to change your mind,” he starts, turning to leave, “You know where to find me. I’ll be waiting.”

At that moment, you realize, it wasn’t you who had a semblance of control over Childe.

It was him that had you wrapped securely around his finger.

[ijustwant2write]

Father Knows Best-Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader

(GIF credit to @devileyedbanana​)

Masterlist

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @jenepleurepasbaby​ @amirahiddleston​ @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff​ @mzcrazy2​

Requested by anonymous: ‘Can I request a Tommy x daughter angst one shot where she falls in love with a rival gangster and Tommy asks her to choose, and she chooses her love but then he turns out to be violent and Tommy comes and saves her.’

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader, Finn Shelby x Shelby!Reader (Uncle)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Alcohol, being drunk, swearing, mentions of a sexual nature, family arguments, domestic abuse, weaponry, fluff

(A/N: Matthew is a made up character, AND THIS IS MUCH LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED)

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I covered my mouth as I giggled uncontrollably, Matthew was shushing me despite chuckling himself. We held onto each other as we stumbled out of the club, our feet aching from all the dancing we had done, struggling to walk in a straight line due to the drinks. As we stood up straight, swaying slightly from the alcohol, Matthew took me in his arms, kissing me sloppily. Neither of us were anywhere near sober. 

“You’re so beautiful.” he breathed out, going in for another kiss.

I smiled into it, gripping onto his coat for support.“Tonight was amazing. I don’t want it to end.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

I groaned.“It does though. You know I’m already past my curfew.”

“Your dad should be happy that you’re out making friends.”

“You don’t know anything about my dad then.”

We hesitated to start the walk home, though both knew that Matthew wouldn’t receive the best welcome if he got me back any later. I was in trouble now anyway, but I didn’t care what any of my family thought. Time flew by too quickly when I was with Matthew, it was as if we never had enough of each other. And I wasn’t stupid, my father definitely knew about us. As leader of the Peaky Blinders, he had eyes everywhere, and if he wanted his men to follow me, they would. I had spotted several of them just tonight, but I didn’t care.

Seeing as these men would be reporting back to my dad as soon as the night was over, I didn’t want to wake up to a lecture from him. Instead, I decided to head to my uncle’s house. Finn had given me an extra key, just in case, and we were extremely close in age, he understood what I was going through; he also wasn’t allowed to do anything dangerous, let alone be involved in any plans, even tough he tried. 

“You sure your uncle won’t let me in? You can try to be quiet.” Matthew whispered as I stood outside of Finn’s house. 

I scoffed at him.“I can be quiet!”

“Well I have yet to experience that.”

“He won’t let you in. I’m sorry Matthew.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll see you in the next few days?”

“Of course you will.”

We slowly kissed, hands still wrapped around each other. It was always so difficult to let him go. This time, Matthew was the one to pull away, gently kissing me on the forehead before leaving. I watched him leave until I couldn’t see him before unlocking the door. Although I had been incredibly quiet, I heard a thud, someone (my uncle) was fumbling around, thinking an intruder was here. He had a gun in his hands as he whipped open his bedroom door. The panic in his face was replaced with annoyance.

“For fucks sake (Y/N), what do you think you’re doing?” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Um, coming in from a great night out?” I said, chuckling to myself as I walked into a chair.

“Oh good, you’re drunk. Why didn’t you get the driver to take you back to your house?”

“Because I don’t want to deal with dad. You know he’s awake too, he would shout at me as soon as I stepped foot in the door.”

Finn rolled his eyes.“You were with that prick weren’t you?”

“His name is Matthew and he’s not a prick. He’s my boyfriend. And I know that dad knows about him.”

“You should really stay away from him. He doesn’t come from a good family. We’re in the same circles (Y/N), people tell me things.”

I groaned.“Urgh, I didn’t come here to get told off by someone who is literally two years older than me. I’m going to bed. Feel free to call my dad, tell him I’m fine and that I had a good time, cause I know he won’t ask that.”

“What do you mean?”

“As soon as you call, or he calls you, the first question will be, ‘who was she with?’. Yeah, my dad really cares for me.”

Even though I slept late into the afternoon, I still didn’t feel rested. My head was pounding, I felt as if I would be sick every time I moved, and my feet throbbed, so all in all, signs of a great night out. As I shuffled into the kitchen, Finn was sat at the table, arms crossed and staring at me. Oh no, he was not going to act like a saint right now.

“I’m not dealing with you right now Finn.” I said as I poured myself a cup of tea.

“Tommy’s coming to get you in an hour. Make sure you’re ready.”

I mockingly saluted him.“Yes sir!”

“Come off it (Y/N). I don’t get why you act like this. Sometimes you’re really sweet, other times you’re...”

“Go on, get it out of your system.”

“You can be a bitch.”

“Look, I understand what you’re saying.” I sat down across from him.“But dad really hasn’t paid much attention to me recently. He doesn’t even greet me when I come down for breakfast. I know he’s got a lot on his plate, and it’s a big plate, but lately he’s been really harsh on me.”

“It’s because of Matthew.”

“He’s going to have to drop that soon. I get that I’m his only daughter so he’s overprotective, and because I’m a Shelby, but he doesn’t have to worry.”

“That’s the thing (Y/N). This Matthew has made him worry even more.”

“Why? Because it’s my first serious boyfriend?”

“No because...look, what I tell you now, you can’t say a word of it to anyone else, do you understand?”

“Finn-”

“Do you understand?”

I hesitated, but nodded, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Matthew is....he’s part of a rival gang.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.“I get you don’t want me to date him, but that’s ridiculous.”

“(Y/N), I’m being deadly serious.”

“No he’s not. I’ve met his family, they’re sweethearts.”

“Because they want you to trust them.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not trying to piss you off, or make up something so you break up with him. He’s dangerous (Y/N), it’s all one big trap. They get Thomas Shelby’s daughter and they can bargain for anything.”

“Wouldn’t it be less hassle to just kidnap me? What if I didn’t fall for Matthew, what would they do then?”

“That’s not the point-”

“No, there is no point to this, at all Finn.”

“(Y/N), please, I’m trying to look out for you.”

“I’m going to get ready. I need to look decent for dad.”

Part of a rival gang? Pathetic. It wasn't even an interesting story. Yes, Matthew was a little wild, he brought out the party girl in me, but I was having fun! As long as he wasn't harming me, nor were we harming anyone else in the process, I saw no flaws with our relationship. We also had our downtime moments, times where we could lie down in each others arms, hint at our futures. Apparently not everyone could see that.

There was a knock at the door, and I sighed to myself, knowing my time of hiding was over. Luckily dressed, looking pretty decent after the night before, I took time walking out of the spare room, hearing some mumbling before I even saw my dad. Although he never showed much emotion anyway, I could tell he wasn't happy, staring me down as I approached him in last night's clothes.

"Morning dad." I greeted him kindly, hoping we would have this conversation away from Finn.

Dad looked at Finn in disbelief, then back to me."Morning? Fucking good morning?"

"Dad-"

"Get in the car."

I obeyed his order but not before saying goodbye to Finn."Thanks for letting me stay."

He just nodded to me, awkwardly waiting by the door as I followed dad outside. I kept up with his usual long strides, bracing myself for what could end up as a screaming match. Thinking about it, I never argued much with dad, but when we did, it was over serious topics, never anything petty. I loved him dearly, he always looked out for me, gave me anything I wanted, ensured that I had a good life he never had growing up. So the guilt growing inside of me was huge, but my stubbornness was strong. I was an adult now, I was allowed to make these decisions.

Surprisingly, there was no driver for us. I slipped into the passenger seat, both of us remaining silent as dad started the drive. I watched the streets of Small Heath pass by, the regulars of the city slowly making their way to work, dirty from the shift the day before, probably drunk to keep themselves warm. It was a sad, poor place sometimes.

"Are we going to talk?" I mumbled, putting my focus on him.

He sighed loudly through his nose."Are you going to listen?"

"Please can we not be malicious about this?"

"Why didn't you just come home last night? Any bar would have let you use a phone, they know who you are."

"Because I didn't want the hassle. And I stayed at Finn's, so I don't understand why you're so angry?"

"You were with that boy."

"Dad, when will you just accept that I'm twenty one and I'm allowed to see people?"

"It's not that. If you had found someone who wasn't trouble-"

"Matthew isn't trouble."

"You don't know everything (Y/N)."

"Oh, don't tell me, he's part of rival gang, right?"

Dad's eyes widened as his head snapped towards me, his gaze flickering between me and the road."You what?"

"Finn told me."

Dad groaned, putting all of his concentration back on the road."Told him to keep his mouth shut. Neither of you seem to be able to follow orders."

I rolled my eyes.

"I saw that."

"Look, I'm sorry for not at least calling last night, I know that was wrong." Dad was silent.

"But I really like Matthew. I don't want you to scare him away, or make up ridiculous stories about him."

"Stories eh? That's what you think they are?"

"I know they are."

Suddenly, dad put his foot down, making us go faster than I liked. He ignored my pleas for him to go slower, somehow not swerving off of the country roads that lead to our house. He was driving at this speed for far too long, skidding on the gravel as we braked in front of the house. Dad hastily got out of the car, whereas I needed a second to get my breath back. He was already walking through the front door by the time I was shakily getting out of the car, stumbling in my heels across the gravel.

I called after him but he wouldn't listen. Storming towards his office, he flung open the doors, not even flinching when they whacked into the walls. Quickly following, I watched his manic actions, shuffling through paper work and slapping down files onto the desk.

"There's your story." he said, pointing at them.

Hesitantly I walked towards him, scanning my eyes over his evidence. There were pictures, reports, files containing personal information. I focused more on the parts about Matthew, reading things such as where he was born, where he had lived, the schools he attended....and none of them matched with what he had told me. There was a portrait picture of him, I didn't know where dad got it from, and another photo slipped out from under it as I picked it up. Only this time, it was a mugshot.

"So, do you still think we're lying?" dad said.

"I...I..." I was speechless.

"You know that everything I do, I do for you. You're my daughter, it's my job to protect you. You need to stay away from that man."

"Why wouldn't he tell me?"

"Did you really just ask that?"

"We've talked about everything. He didn't even hint at it." I was talking to myself at this point."I met his family. Why would they go through all of that? Host that dinner, make me welcome, say such nice things?"

"I didn't take you to be stupid (Y/N)."

"I know what it sounds like. But dad, Matthew wouldn't lie to me-"

"HE'S USING YOU!" he screamed at me."You're a fucking Shelby, you're the daughter of Thomas Shelby, you have a huge target on your head! It's an easy way to get to me, and to find out secrets about us!"

My mouth dropped open in shock."I would never tell him anything they he wasn't supposed to know!"

"Wouldn't you? He seems to have a hold on you, and it's scaring me. I've never seen you like this."

"That 'hold' you're on about is called love! Not that you would know anything about that, seeing as my mother was a whore!"

"Don't you dare speak to me like that!"

"It wouldn't be a surprise would it, if I ended up with a fucked up relationship? Because I had oh such a great example from you. Fucks a random woman, she knows who he is, so she dumps the baby on him, hoping he won't give her away to an orphanage."

"Stop changing the conversation. We are talking about how we get you away Matthew."

“You’re not going to.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’ve been with him for months, why is this now just coming out? How long have you known about this?”

He didn’t have to say anything but I still got my answer.

“Ah.” I scoffed a laugh.“You have known about this. And for some reason, you have’t decided to mention this.”

“It was for-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. Dad, I am going to speak to Matthew about this.”

“You will not go near him.”

“Yes I will. I’m going to get the truth, right now.”

My words escaped me before I could really think about them. I was already walking away from him, back out to the front door. Opening a cabinet, I searched through the keys for any car, any vehicle that would get me far away from here.

“I’m having someone follow you.” dad informed me.

“I know.”

“You’re stepping into enemy territory.”

“We’re not in the war anymore dad. And you’re not a soldier.”

I finally found the right key, heading towards the only car I had ever driven. Making my way to the garage, I ignored my dad, not even looking at him. I definitely felt guilty for what I had said, and what I was about to do. But I needed to do this myself, I needed to speak to Matthew without the pressure of anyone else.

I was not a good driver. Everyone was safe whilst I was driving, I just wasn’t very fast or great with spacial awareness. In my head, I had expected to be racing to Matthew’s, getting to his in record time. This had ruined my fantasy. Once I did reach his house, I slowly lined up the car with the path, wincing when I bumped into the curb; thank god no one was around to see that. 

“(Y/N)?” I heard Matthew call me as I got out of the car. He was approaching me down the pathway of his house.

“Matthew, I need to speak with you, urgently.” I rushed out, pushing him back towards his home.

“Woah, wait, wait. What’s happened? Why are you in last nights clothes?”

“Just get inside.”

By looking at his house, you could tell he was well off. It was in a nicer neighbourhood, it was separate from the other houses and had multiple rooms. I asked him if anyone else was home, and when he said no, I was relieved. We didn’t want them getting involved, and I felt like shouting if this went wrong. 

“You’re worrying me (Y/N).” Matthew said.

“Oh, are you worried about me?” I sarcastically said.

“(Y/N), can you just tell me what’s going on?!”

“Are you part of a rival gang against the Peaky Blinders?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What makes you say something like that?”

“My family told me.”

“What makes them think that?”

“Matthew, I’ve seen the evidence. I didn’t admit it to my dad, but I believed him. I’ve seen your real information. You’ve lied to me about a lot of things. And why do you have a fucking mugshot?”

He exhaled through his nose, looking away from me for a few seconds.“I can’t lie anymore.”

“You shouldn’t have in the first place!”

He held up his hands in defence.“Alright, alright, let’s just use our inside voices. I’ll explain everything to you.”

Matthew directed me to his front room, sitting beside me, and although I initially wanted to shuffle away from him, I couldn’t bring myself to do it; especially when he took my hands in his, resting them on his lap. He wasn’t afraid to look me in the eyes, perhaps a sign of him about to tell the truth.

“(Y/N), your family is right. I am part of a company that rivals yours-”

I tried pulling my hands away, but he gripped onto me tightly.

“-but we would never cause any harm. We are only rivals in business. There is no bloodshed, no injuries, no deaths. The only thing we fight over are numbers.”

“That still doesn’t explain everything.”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if you already knew who I was. You know how it feels to have everyone already judge you based on a name.”

“Don’t use that against me.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to connect with you on this. The mugshot is from a brawl we had with a couple of ex-employees, they wanted to expose us with lies. Unfortunately we were typical men, and apparently that was the only way we thought to solve it. The police were called and I spent a night in a cell, but I was released the next morning.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded.

“You promise?” 

“I promise. And my family have not been plotting anything like your father thinks they have. Of course, they had an idea when I told them about you, you know, to ‘unite’ our families to stop the feud. Obviously that was ridiculous because fights don’t just end like that. But when I brought you to them, it was because I was proud of you, I wanted to show them the amazing woman I had found and fell in love with.”

“Love?”

“Yes. I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Matthew. I’m sorry for attacking you with all these questions. But even if I tried to convince my dad that he was wrong, he wouldn’t believe me. I’m scared he’s going to try and separate us.”

“Then live with me!”

“What? No I couldn’t do that to you-”

“Of course you can! You’ve seen this house, there’s plenty of room, my family loves you, it would be perfect! And...” he leaned in closer to me, whispering in my ear,“they’re hardly here, so we would have a lot of alone time.”

Although my heart jumped at the thought of living with Matthew, being able to see him everyday, spending every moment with him, I also dreaded telling my dad. I was old enough to make my own decision though. I could move in with Matthew if I wanted, what was stopping me? I believed everything he said, he had an explanation for everything. If Matthew was in a rival gang, using me for their own purpose, wouldn’t he just threaten me or kidnap me when I confronted him? It all seemed like too much effort.

All of that information dad accumulated must have been biased, especially if our families were rival companies. Although I was leaning more towards staying with Matthew, I didn’t want to lose my dad. I would have to be an idiot to believe that he would let me leave home with a man he didn’t like, but on the other hand, I was at the age where I could do what I wanted. Just because I had the last name Shelby didn’t mean I was going to be trapped by it.

There had been a lot of back and forth that day, both emotionally and physically. But here I was once again arguing with my dad. Stupidly, I had let Matthew come along (he was very persuasive), though he stayed in the car. Set on convincing him to let me leave with Matthew, we shouted at each other, screaming our opinions. He didn’t believe a word I said. Tears streamed down my face as I grew more frustrated, pleading him to listen, to give Matthew another chance.  

“I don’t know why I’m bothering to ask! I could have left without asking, without even telling you. But I did it out of respect for you.” I suddenly exclaimed.

Dad stopped shouting for a moment, heavily breathing.“Fine. Go then. If you’re so grown up, pack your bags and move onto the next part of your life. I just hope for your sake that I’m wrong.”

                                       *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I had never felt such conflict in my heart before. The first month of moving away was extremely hard, I cried most nights in Matthew’s arms. I had loathed every moment of collecting my belongings from dad’s house, saying goodbye to my family because I wouldn’t be seeing them as much as I was used to. They thought the same as dad, all had tried to convince me to stay. But Matthew was always by my side, reassuring me that we could start our own life now, not forgetting our old ones of course, but creating a new one. 

And oh, how quickly things changed.

Three months, three months of pure bliss. I was living with my boyfriend, having the joy of seeing him everyday when he came home from work, eating meals with him, sleeping beside him, not having to arrange weeks in advance when to next see each other. Matthew had even started talking more about our future, hinting at marriage, finding our own home to live in. It excited me. I was growing up, doing all the things a person should do. Perhaps this would show dad that I was happy, that he was wrong about those rumours, and I could finally see him again. I missed him so much.

It was like binding a contract with the devil. Once that engagement ring was slipped on my finger, my whole world was flipped. Matthew started staying out late. I knew he wasn’t going out drinking, he didn’t smell of alcohol when he returned, neither could he be cheating because I never caught a whiff of perfume, or found a hair on his jacket, or even see him come home disgruntled; he was just as immaculate as he had been leaving. Sometimes him, his father, his brother and uncle would come home, immediately gathering in the front room and slamming the door shut. They would be in there for hours, deep in conversation. And that scared me, because it reminded me of my family whenever they were scheming.  

“Matthew?” I had mumbled late one night, disturbed from my sleep when he opened the bedroom door.

“Go to sleep.” it was an order, no note of sympathy in his voice.

I watched him undress.“Are you alright? I heard you arguing downstairs.” 

“What did I just say?” I had never seen someones head snap around so quickly.

“I’m sorry,” I didn’t know why I was apologising,“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t upset.”

“I am now.”

“Why?”

“Because of you! Asking me all these questions! I thought you were smart.” he made a show of collapsing into a chair, starting to untie his shoelaces.

I sat up.“Matthew, there’s obviously something wrong. You know you can tell me-”

He suddenly threw his shoe against the floor, but for a split second I thought it was aimed at me.“Just go to sleep (Y/N)!”

I was scared to move, thinking I would somehow do something else wrong. But when he continued to stare at me, I slowly slipped back under the covers, clinging them close to me, trying to steady my breathing to hide how much I wanted to cry. I listened to Matthew get ready for bed, the silence making me more nervous. He climbed into bed, shuffling towards me. I flinched as he wrapped an arm around me, his body pressed up against the back of mine. Who was this person? What made him act like this?

“I’m sorry darling.” he whispered in my ear.

But I didn’t feel comforted by that, or feel like I should give him forgiveness. And I realised it wouldn’t have even mattered if I did, because it kept on happening.

Smaller things started to annoy him. I would simply ask him what he was doing with his day, and receive an eye roll. He would question why I was wearing a specific outfit, who was I wearing it for? His family would try to interrogate every detail about me, and it was suspicious from the beginning. I wasn’t receiving questions such as ‘How many siblings do you have?’, ‘Do your family get on well?’, ‘Where do they live?’; I wondered if it was because everyone knew about the Peaky Blinders, but it was getting too personal. I had been an idiot to become trapped by this man, however, I wasn’t going to let them use me against my family.

Some days I didn’t know how much I could take of Matthew. I was walking on egg shells around him. I quickly learnt what not to say or ask, how the tone of my voice should be, how I should look. It didn’t matter how many times he was sweet to me, apologised, bought me presents, I didn’t recognise the man I had wanted to marry. His hand held mine tighter, his grip on my waist hurt, and our intimate moments together...everything hurt me, and he didn’t care.

“Writing a letter to a friend?” Matthew startled me from the doorway of our room.

My head whipped around to see him standing there, casually leaning against the door frame.“Yes.” I quickly replied.“Well, it’s for my aunt, Ada.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m asking how Karl is. He’s growing up so fast.”

“Mention anything about me?” 

“Of course.”

“Can I read it?”

I handed him the letter, hiding my nerves. He read through it, no expression at first until he looked at me, smirking to himself. That wasn’t a good sign.

“(Y/N), my father was in the war. He’s told me about how they got secret messages out of the trenches.” he smugly said, walking towards a set of drawers and opening the top one. He pulled out a pile of letters, the envelopes opened, and the handwriting was mine.“Being Thomas Shelby’s daughter, I had expected more from you.”

“You’ve lied to me this whole time.” I shuddered at the thought of him reading my letters, begging for someone to help me escape.

“No, I haven’t.”

“You said you were only rivals in business!”I leapt up from my chair.“I fought my family to be with you! I am such a fucking idiot!”

“Isn’t that what we are? A business at the end of the day? Look, you’re here now. We’re happy. I can make us happier once we receive our upcoming bonus.”

“What bonus?”

“The bonus of having the Shelby Company all to ourselves.”

My eyes widened, screeching out as I lunged for him. I landed a good punch to his face, but due to his size and strength, he managed to grab my attacking arms. 

“Stop now (Y/N), before you get hurt.”

That was a threat from him, not a concern I may harm myself. But for once I didn’t care. They were going after my family, I would take all the beatings for them. 

“You’re a fucking liar! A cruel, terrible, waste of space!” I screamed, pulling myself away from him.“I vowed to never become one of those poor women who had to live this life. You were in my head, and I’ll admit it, you were convincing, but I know who you really are. You’re all a bunch of sad men who feel that they need to murder, threaten and mock anyone in order to make them feel better. You’ll never be as powerful as my dad, it  just won’t happen.”

“You’ve grown naive. I did like you (Y/N), once I got a good look at you, I wasn’t angry about the plan of marrying you anymore. And I’ll admit, you’re an interesting woman, easy on the eye which helps. And how loyal you were, standing beside me in everything. Don’t be upset (Y/N), we don’t want any blood on our hands, as long as your family are cooperative. And think, you will be in charge with me once they’re gone.”

“Gone? What do you think you’re going to do with my family?!”

“Nothing. We have a meeting tomorrow, you’ll be coming, and you will convince them to hand it all over to us.”

“I won’t.”

“That wasn’t a request.” he opened one side of his blazer jacket, revealing his gun.

“I would rather die than go against them.”

“You’ve done that already. And I would rather keep your brains inside your head.”

The next morning felt colder, more bitter than it usually did here; there was even a low fog creating a tense atmosphere. Although I didn’t want to comply with Matthew, I knew I had to go to this meeting if I wanted a chance of seeing my family and keeping them alive. Running on adrenaline and anxiety alone, I forced myself to get out of bed, having to get changed under the watch of the man I thought I knew. As I did my hair in the mirror, I had a sudden realisation that I wasn’t me anymore. I looked older, years older even, even though I had only been engaged to this monster for a few months. My skin felt...unusual, not right, it didn’t feel clean. The bags under my eyes seemed to droop more and more every day, as if they were dragging down my eyes with them, and my lips were missing the feeling of a genuine smile. 

Matthew kept a hand on my back as we walked downstairs, his family waiting for us. I wasn’t scared to glare at them. They weren’t going to kill me, not yet anyway. I still had some time to live, and I was going to despise them every second. They talked as if I wasn’t there, checking their weapons and the plan. Matthew had managed to confiscate my gun, I was left with my fists.

I was in the middle of the group as we made our way to the meeting point. I knew the area now, we were headed to the back of a factory. There was a lot of noise from the machines, no one would be walking around because they would be working, and Matthew’s family had a very good deal going on with the owner; they pay him large amounts of money to keep quiet, he takes that on top of his rich salary already and keeps quiet. 

As we rounded the corner, my heart dropped when I saw just my dad standing there. Out of instinct, I started to hastily move towards him until Matthew grabbed me, gripping onto my arms to keep me in place. I felt like a little girl again, scared and needing her dad to come save her. Although dad was expressionless most of the time, I was worried that he thought I was neglecting them all these months, when really, Matthew had stopped any contact between us.

“Mr Thomas Shelby, when I said about meeting, I didn’t think it would be just yourself.” Matthew’s dad started.“But that’s fine, you’re the only one we want to speak with anyway.”

“A business meeting outside, eh?” dad said.“Why do I think this is heading in another direction?”

“Let’s just get to the point, yes? You know what we want, we’re not going to stop till we get it.”

“Of course.” dad didn’t seem bothered.

“And we’re serious. But don’t worry, there will still be a Shelby within the business once you pass it over.”

Matthew urged me forward, staying very close behind.“Dad, I’ve been trying to contact you but they wouldn’t let me! I-”

“Shut up. That’s not important.” Matthew snapped at me. 

“Don’t talk to her that way.” dad lowly said, and I recognised the warning in his voice.

Matthew wasn’t bothered.“She does as she’s told.”

“I fucking don’t!” 

I stamped on his foot with my heel, quickly getting out of his grip and turning around, managing to knee him in the head as he doubled over. Another gang member pulled me away, and I didn’t know whether he was ordered to or not, but he held a gun to my temple, his arm in a choke hold around my neck. I had tried, but it was too risky to do anything when my dad and I were clearly outnumbered. 

Despite that, dad pulled out his own gun, aiming it at the man.“Let her go.”

Matthew’s dad laughed.“I know you’ll have some of your people hiding around here somewhere. But you’ve seen the weapons we carry today, and how many of us there are. You are under prepared.”

 Dad was still for a moment, suddenly whistling. I saw the men around me tense, wondering what my dad could be summoning. As expected, more men started to appear around my dad, a much larger group, some even rounding around the back so that we were surrounded. They all held weapons of some sort; guns, knives, knuckle dusters, anything of the sort. Matthew’s dad tried to not look effected, though you could tell he was shitting himself. 

“What were you saying about no bloodshed?" I smugly said to Matthew.

He frowned at me, taking me out of the man's arms and throwing me to the floor. He got out his own gun, once again placing it on my temple.

"I don't want to shoot her. But I will if you don't go through with our deal." he stated.

My hands were scraped, blood already trickling onto the ground. But I didn't moan, I didn't complain, worried that one slight move would set him off and he would shoot.

"You will put down your weapons, give me back my daughter, turn around, and walk away." dad said."We don't want to start a war between us. Look at my men, now look at yours. You will lose, and you will lose your lives along with it."

"How dare you threaten us-"

Matthew's dad interrupted."Shut up Matthew! This doesn’t mean you’ve won Shelby.”

Dad didn’t reply, lowering his gun but the others kept their weapons on display. Matthew’s dad was waiting for a reply, and when he didn’t get one, he sharply turned away. Matthew was shocked, glancing between me and him as he wondered what to do. Although I was desperate to run to dad, I slowly made a move to stand. Matthew kept his eyes glued on me. I slid off my beautiful engagement ring, now despising it, holding it up in front of his face, and letting it drop to the ground.

“In case you were wondering, the wedding is off.” I spat, instantly turning on my heel.

My body broke out into a sprint, throwing my arms around my dad’s neck as I burst into tears. My legs went weak as he clung onto me, reassuring me that I was safe now, I wouldn’t be hurt any longer. How could I have done such a thing? I turned my back on my family for a man I should have known more about. I had to face it, I was a Shelby, and it was going to be difficult to find someone who wanted me for me, not my name.

“I’m so sorry dad!” I sobbed.“Please forgive me! I don’t want to be hated by you forever. I need you. I love you!”

He calmly shushed me, as if I was a baby again.“It’s alright, it’s alright (Y/N). I’ve got you now. You’re my daughter, I would never hate you.”

“I’m sorry! I won’t ever leave you again.”

“Come on, let’s go home, eh?”

“Please.”

“You’re my family, you always will be. I’m always going to protect you (Y/N), always.”

[midzelink]

So, as some of you might know, one of my GIFs was recently featured on the Tumblr Radar - which is pretty cool!  I was fairly happy with how that one turned out, especially considering that I made it rather last-minute on a whim to acknowledge Valentine’s Day.  It understandably received a lot of attention as a result of this, and I’ve loved reading through all the comments and tags (especially all the ones about how people want to eat the heart containers from TP); however, I wanted to clear up a bit of a misunderstanding surrounding the creation of that GIF, as there were additionally a lot of tags along the lines of #3d art or #artists on tumblr in that influx of reblogs.  I don’t want to take credit for something I didn’t do, even accidentally, and so allow me to be perfectly clear: the heart container GIF is not something I modeled and rendered myself! It is the original in-game model, recorded in-game using the Dolphin GCN/Wii emulator, with very little done in the way of post-processing in Photoshop.  If that sounds impossible or confusing (which is perfectly understandable, for those of you unaware of what Dolphin is capable of), I’d like to take this opportunity to give you guys a bit of a “peek behind the curtain,” as it were, to show you guys exactly how I made that particular GIF, as well as similar ones I’ve made (such as those in my #items tag).  

I didn’t take screenshots of my initial process (nor did I save the edited textures I used), so I’ll be recreating it from the ground up for the sake of demonstration, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

First thing’s first: finding a heart container! For this particular GIF, I wound up using the one that spawns after the Morpheel fight at the end of Lakebed Temple.  I’m sure many others would work just as well (I think, at the time, this one just happened to be the most accessible to me), but let’s use the same one for the sake of it.  

Morpheel: defeated.  And I didn’t even need Zora Armor! (Seriously, we do that in the speedrun.  But I’m getting off-topic.)  Of course, we’re going to need clean, close-up footage of the heart container rotating in order to do what we want to do, so let’s shift into first-person mode and and get a bit closer to the thing.

Now, because the only UI-element in this shot is Link’s health (and it’s in the corner and relatively non-obtrusive), removing it isn’t strictly necessary - but I’ve already made a texture pack that removes UI elements as part of my Text Free TP project from a while back, so let’s load it anyway, for the sake of being thorough.  This shot is also still a bit too far away, so next we’ll be utilizing Dolphin’s free cam feature (which can be accessed by going to Graphics > Advanced > Free Look and checking “Enable” in Dolphin) in order to get the heart container in a more central position. Now we’re left with this:

And we’re already looking well on our way to making a nice, solid color background GIF.  But how do we get the solid color? Well, that’s where more texture editing comes into play - and here I have to give credit where credit is due, as this is a trick I picked up from 186px, after wondering how they were able to make this GIFset of Link fighting Ganondorf in The Wind Waker in a great, black void.  (Seriously, shoutouts to them, their stuff was and still is amazing.)

But, very basically, we’ll be using Dolphin’s texture dump feature in order to find the textures that need to be edited so we can replace them with pure black ones.  Texture dumping can be enabled by going to Graphics > Advanced > Utility and checking “Dump Textures,” and the file path for these dumped textures by default is Documents > Dolphin Emulator > Dump > Textures > [Game ID].  (In the case of Twilight Princess, the Game ID is GZ2E01).  After dumping the textures in the Morpheel arena, my GZ2E01 folder looks like this:

When editing textures, sometimes you’ll have to endure a bit of trial and error until you find the correct ones.  Luckily, in this scene, the textures making up the sand floor and the stone walls are rather large, so let’s isolate the ones we’re pretty sure are responsible (plus a few others that are obviously environmental, just to be safe).

Now, when loading custom textures, it’s important that the file name you’re trying to load matches up exactly with the original texture that you’re trying to replace.  I have a plain, black, square PNG that I keep on my desktop specifically for this purpose; I copy the file names of the textures I’ve isolated, then rename and drag and drop the black PNG into the folder where custom textures are loaded (Documents > Dolphin Emulator > Load > Textures > [Game ID]).  Like so:

And now, to refresh our custom textures by disabling and reenabling them in Dolphin’s graphics settings:

And voilà! We have something that very nearly resembles the GIF I made (well, a still of it, at least).  I skipped over a few details, such as the fact that TP has a pretty significant amount of bloom surrounding just about everything, which I’m fairly certain I disabled using cheat codes when I made the original GIF in order to give it an overall cleaner look.  It’s hard to tell from this still, but TP’s heart containers also sparkle considerably in a way that’s random and not loopable; I found the texture responsible for this sparkle and replaced it with a transparent 1x1 PNG, in order to remove it entirely (as well as the texture behind the “glow” of the thing).  After that, it was as simple as recording the game with OBS, dumping the MP4 into Photoshop, cropping and cutting it to make it loop, and adding some adjustment layers for contrast and color.  So...yeah!

I hope this has served to clear up any confusion about some of the things that I’ve made in the past.  I’m not a 3D artist - just a person with an emulator and way too much free time on their hands.  This stuff is really, super simple, and also lots of fun, so I would highly encourage anyone with the means to mess around with emulation on their own some time to see what they can do!  (Even if you don’t have Photoshop and can’t make GIFs, there are always edits, such as this one I made of Midna.)  For Twilight Princess in particular, I also highly recommend checking out TPGZ; it’s a patch you can apply to a clean ISO of the original game, designed with the purposes of helping folks learn and practice the speedruns (yes, I had to bring up speedrunning one last time, kill me), but it’s got nifty features like built-in savestates, cheat codes, and HUD removal, as well as the ability to freeze actors while maintaining the ability to move the camera freely, among other things (all things that are very useful as far as making unique graphics go).  Sorry this post got as long as it did, but I at the very least hope that some of you found it educational and/or interesting.  Cheers!

[lord-explosion-baku]

Funhouse

Sero x Reader

You and Sero havin’ a little fun at the Summer fair.

Warnings: semi-public wall sex, cunnilingus, fluff?

A/N: I’m mourning the loss of Summer and all the fun things that go along with it. I think I really miss the fair and love Hanta Sero, so...here’s smth. (18+)

The determined look on your face is heart-wrenching. With your brows drawn down, and the subtle hint of tongue peeking out of your lips as you aim your water gun at the target, it’s no surprise that Sero can’t concentrate on the task at hand. He’s already won so many other fair games—he has you, the loser, toting around that giant teddy bear (the one he plans on letting you keep) to prove it—so he thinks he might let you best him. Just this once.

When the bell goes off, crowning you as the game’s victor, you squeal and cheer, bouncing into Sero’s waiting embrace. This game is easy enough, so the prizes aren’t that big, but you’re ecstatic when you get to choose one for yourself: a little leather choker with a mock-silver flower pendant.

“That’ll look cute on you,” Sero is quick to say. He’s been taking any opportunity to compliment you—so long as it’s not creepy—to make it so his intentions are clear; although, he’s not too sure you’ve picked up on any of his hints. Yet. He doesn’t want to be too obvious or pushy, either, even if there is a carnal monster deep inside of him that demands he acts differently. If you don’t vibe with him in the way he really wants you to, he’d still like to keep you as a good friend, even if it burns him, and leaves that monster starving.

“On me?” You laugh. “Definitely! But I wanna know how it’ll look on you!”

You turn to face him, grinning mischievously, choker-necklace weapon in hand. You bite your lip and look at him expectedly. He rolls his eyes and yields, dipping down so you can reach him. You thrust the bear into his hands so you can do your worst.  

“It’s only fair,” he says as you wrap the choker around his neck. He hears when you clasp it at his nape, and fights the goosebumps that try to run down his arms. “You’re carrying my prize, after all.”

Even though you have the necklace clasped, your touch lingers, as if you’re pretending to struggle to get it on. Gentle fingers brush against his sensitive skin and Sero wonders if it’s intentional—if you know that your touch scorches him, and whether you know that you’re torturing him or not. As much fun as he’s having with you, you've got him wrapped around your little finger. He’s smitten—captivated and enslaved by that devilish glint in your eyes when you say you want to play another game—when you tell him he’s going down, and even though you haven’t beat him until now, your good mood never falters. You skip around in your summer dress, laughing about clowns or rides or lights, and Sero’s world ends where you begin.

He’d originally thought that taking you to the fair could’ve been a simple friend-date—it wouldn’t be any different if he’d invited Kirishima or Kaminari, but deep down he knows that had been a foolish gamble. Neither Denki nor Ei make his heart skip like you do. Now that the two of you are alone, he can’t ignore the spell you’ve got him under. He’s been wrong before, but this proves to be a monumental screw up.

Your bright smile lights up Sero’s world when you give him an approving look, proud of your work. The choker is snug around his neck, and you loop a finger around it, giving it a tug to test its durability.

“Pretty,” you say wryly, a charming tilt to your smile.

“I prefer devilishly handsome, but I’ll accept pretty.”

“Oho, somebody’s full of themselves.” You laugh and push on his chest, stepping away from him. “Let me make room for your giant ego.”

“Hey, now, I’ve earned my giant ego, thank you very much!” Sero pushes the bear back into your hands and tugs on its ears. “This just proves I rule this fair, and you’re nothing more than a serf in the kingdom of Hanta Sero.”

You grab his hand, lift it up, and twirl yourself underneath him, giant bear dancing with you. “Well, I’ve got spirit. And plenty more games I’m sure I can beat you at.”

“Ohoho spirit? That’s just what losers say to make themselves feel better.”

“Losers?!” You bark out, smile widening. “You sound like Bakugou!”

Sero’s mouth falls open, showing mock-indignity. “You wound me!”

“That’s just what happens when your ego inflates! A simple prick of a needle and-“ You and make a motion with your hands, miming a balloon, then blow a raspberry as you drive an imaginary needle through it. Sero blows a raspberry right back, and you use the opportunity to shove the bear in his face.

Hands free, you dance around him in search of another game you might be able to beat him at. The two of you have already gone on all the best rides, shared a funnel cake, and have blown through plenty of cash competing with each other, but it’s obvious that you’re not satisfied yet.

You eye the funhouse, and look at Sero conspiratorially. Usually that place is reserved for younger fair patrons, but now that the sun is down, and most kids have tired out due to their sugar highs, the funhouse is left ignored.

There’s that familiar glint in your eyes, and Sero knows you’re scheming something.

“What are you thinking?” Sero asks, walking towards you. He tries pushing the bear back into your arms, but you’re quick to dodge him, ducking closer to the funhouse.

“Well,” you say, roguish. Sero steps closer to you, and you bounce away, intent on leaving the bear in his arms. “I’m willing to admit that you rule the fair, if-“ you step up on the funhouse stairs, hands on the railings, blocking the path. You swing down, leveling your face with Sero’s. Your breath is cool and tauntingly sweet. He wants to taste it. He wants to taste you.

“If?” Sero prompts, swallowing thickly. He watches you lick some residual sugar off your lips, and the need to assist you with that is overbearing.

“If you can catch me in under two minutes.” You swing away, always so close, yet unobtainable. For a moment your dress flutters up, and he catches a glimpse of your blue, cotton panties. He felt bad when he saw them earlier while you climbed out of a ride, but now he kinda thinks you want him to see them. The organ inside Sero’s chest thuds at the challenge, and his carnal monster roars in agreement.

“I’ll only need a minute,” he whispers as you lean forward again, eyes darkened with allure. There’s no way you don’t know you’re teasing him now. The look on your face is borderline devious.

“You’ll have to do it with the bear, in under a minute, then. If you can’t catch me before the time is up, you have to carry him for the rest of the night.”

“And when I do catch you in under a minute?” Sero asks, fully aware that he’s being overconfident. It only makes sense, since he’s gotta throw his giant ego around tonight.

“You’ll earn my utmost respect—maybe a prize, too, if the ruler of the fair knows how to ask for it.” The grin you offer him is potent—a blow that taunts the urge to wrap his arms around you and steal the dare away from your lips. “I’ll even call you King Sero, or my liege—whatever gets your blood pumpin’.”

“What kinda prize?” Sero rasps, as you toy with the choker around his neck. You pull on it, yanking him closer. He can smell your shampoo while your lips press against the shell of his ear. It’s as if you’re going to whisper a secret, but instead, you move to kiss his cheek.

“It’s a secret,” you whisper-laugh, once again leaning away and backing up the stairs. Again, he catches your dress swaying up, and he knows he needs to catch you. “Gimme a ten second head start.”

Cheeks burning, Sero takes a step up the stairs. “No way.”

“Five seconds!” You call, giddily rushing through the first part of the funhouse. You disappear through a thrum of inflatable clowns, and Sero’s chest aches with the partial promise of your secret prize.

“No way!” He yells, taking off after you. He’s immediately bombarded with bright colors of yellows, reds, and purples—clowns hitting him in the face, and your answering giggles. He uses the giant bear as a sort of shield to push through the plastic crowd, only to find himself in a new room, full of dozens of you, and dozens of him.

Sero bonks his head on a mirror and sees about ten of you, clutching your stomach in delight while he tries to make it through the maze. You tease him with a song, matching the tune of the carnival music echoing through the funhouse, and he follows the sound of your pretty voice, extending his hands out to make sure not to hit his head again. He knows he’s almost out when all of your reflections disappear, along with your song.

The next room is just a long hall with a trampoline. You’re nowhere to be seen, so Sero doesn’t even spare a second to jump around like he normally would. He charges forward, only to hear you laughing from somewhere behind him. He turns to see a little divot in the wall—a room he wouldn’t be able to see from from the angle he first entered. Through the hidden doorway, Sero finds himself in a room lit up with pink and red lights. The carnival music is louder here than any other place due to the speaker drilled into the wall. The room is empty, besides the pair of blue cotton panties on the floor, and you with your back and hands pressed against the farthest wall.

“You found mee,” you sing with a flirty lilt in your voice. There’s a strain in Sero’s jeans from knowing that you’re standing there, stark underneath that summer dress, waiting for him.

Sero drops the bear and walks towards you. “In under a minute?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I was hoping you’d be counting, big guy.”

“I was—definitely.” Sero experimentally presses both of his hands into your sides. You hum and shift your hips so your pelvic bone presses against the bulge in his pants. Longing lodges in Sero’s throat while your arms move around his neck.

“So did you win?”

Sero’s laugh is forced through his tight windpipes. You’re playing with the hairs in the back of his head, practically begging him to kiss you. He knows you’re waiting for him to make a move, but if he’s being honest—

“Well, y’know, I hit my head on a glass pane, and had to start over—“

“Pffft! You’re such a dork!” You move your hands to his chest. He catches them, and slides them behind you, against the wall. Your breath catches when he drops his head down to yours.

“You like it,” he whispers as he grazes his nose against yours, right before your lips touch. His hovers over yours for only a moment—a couple seconds to really feel your anticipation, until he’s on you, and everything is right.

Your kiss is soft and tastes like funnel cake—potent and addictive. He slides his hands back down to your neck and cups your jaw, pulling you into a deeper kiss. His tongue pushes between your two soft pillows, tasting you, savoring your heady flavor. As satisfying as it is to finally kiss you, he knows it’s not enough. He pulls away only to trail more kisses down the hollow of your neck. “What was my prize again?”

Your answering laugh is breathy, as if you’re not expecting it. You clasp on to Sero’s shirt while he runs a hand up your thigh, lifting your dress. His kisses travel lower and lower, from your chest, to your stomach, until he’s on his knees, hands on your pert ass, and the light material of your dress shrouds him. This way, he can see your beautiful body, from the curve of your breasts, to the soft tuft of hair at your pubic bone. He tongue toys with your entrance, enjoying the little shudder you give him right before he sucks on your clit.

“Ohh,” you sigh, lifting your leg over his shoulder. “I thought you were supposed to get a prize.”

“Mhmm,” he groans into you, noting the way your body shakes with the vibration of his voice. He gives your sensitive flesh little kitten licks, while he slides two digits into your rousing heat. You moan, loud enough to be heard over the music, and Sero loves it. He wants to hear more of it—to know just how good he can make you feel.

While he traces circles around your clit, his fingers curl inside of you, pushing against the soft pads of your inner walls, coaxing out your pleasure. When your back arches, he props you up so now both of your legs are around his shoulders, and he’s holding you up with his own strength, and the supporting wall. He moans whenever you do, knowing when he’s got you, and wanting to enhance all the sensations he’s making you feel.

He picks up the pace, lapping at you until your voice breaks and you contract over his fingers. The sounds you make are far too pretty to end so soon, so even when he knows you’re at your peak, he doesn’t stop until you’re panting obscenities, and your legs quiver around him.

When you’re finally done twitching, Sero eases your legs off of his shoulders, only to have you stumble and fall back. Before you can catch yourself on the wall, Sero wraps an arm around your waist, catching you against his body.

“My god, Sero.” You breathe, kneading your fingers into his shirt. You pull on it, peeking at his deep v-line, and bite your lip.

He smirks in I-know-you-want-me.

“So, about my prize?” Sero prompts with a raise of a brow, the carnal monster’s tail wagging. “Thought you were gonna call my my liege or somethin’.”

“Oh? Is that all you want?” You begin undoing his belt-buckle, caging him in with a seductive stare. Zippers drop and you treacherous fingers move into his jeans, cupping him through his boxers like you already own it. In a way, you do—Sero’s been a fucking simp for you since day one—but you don’t have to know that. Not when the ball is in his court. “I thought you’d like something a little more than that, but-“

With the power of all the gods that have cursed Sero’s name, you remove your hand from his pants. There’s a pounding ache, both in his chest, and his seriously angry erection, and he no longer thinks and just does. Rather, that carnal monster completely takes over. He’s grabbing you—anywhere he can get his hands on. He trips over himself trying to get more of you—he needs to grab your curves, he needs to know what makes you gasp, he needs to feel you everywhere. You’re pushed back up against the wall, legs up, beautifully wet core exposed. He loses his pants, and you, sweet, hot, and slick, are sliding onto his cock.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Sero murmurs at the same time your mouth falls open, taking in his length.your legs curl around his hips and he can tell by your warbling pleas that he’s stretching you. That only goads him into pulling out and slamming back into you.

You yip, head thrown back in surprised bliss and Sero has to curse again, because shit, he always thought that you’d feel good, but he never anticipated how well you’d hug him. It’s like you’re made for him, and he genuinely has to stop himself from saying something dumb like thank you, and instead continue his thrusting.

“God, Sero, y-you’re-“ You’re panting, brows furrowed, clinging onto him for dear life as he grooves against you with a delightfully hip-tingling pace- “s-so deep!”

“Tell me it feels good, baby,” Sero grunts through his teeth. “Tell me you like this cock.”

“Yessssero, you feel s-so—aaahhh-“ You’re cut off when Sero assaults your neck, licking your soft skin, before sinking his teeth into you. You mewl, and he feels you tighten around his dick. He groans, low and animalistic, sucking on you harshly, knowing he’ll leave a mark, and reveling in the fact that it’ll look so pretty on you. “You look so hot with that stupid fucking choker. I-! God, I’ve been wanting to do this all night!”

“Hah!” He can’t help but laugh. Even when he’s so far gone, and you feel like that, wrapped around his cock, snug and intoxicating, you’re still so fucking cute. Not just hot—you’re such a dork, it’s no wonder you make him crazy. He meaningfully wraps an arm around your waist to draw you in closer, chuckling against your skin, thinking about all the cute shit you’ve done today.

“Hhharder.” Your voice is laced with need while you knot a fist in Sero’s hair, snapping him back into this fantastic fucking moment. He’s not sure if you want him to bite you harder or fuck you harder, but he sure as well is gonna find out. “Please, Sero! More! More!”

He grunts and slaps his palms to each of your ass cheeks, gripping desperately as he pulls you deeper onto him, fucking you faster. You’re practically bouncing on his dick by the time he finds a nice, albeit furious, rhythm, wailing in ecstasy. You’re hissing the word, “yes,” over and over, and he can feel himself start to lose control.

He lets one of your legs touch the ground, so he has a free hand to rub at your swollen clit. His tongue finds yours, and your moans mute out by his sloppy, eager kiss. His fingers draw quick circles around you, while he slows his pace, feeling for that peak.

“You gonna come for me, babe?” Sero seethes against your lips. “Squeeze my cock with your hot little cunt? That’s all I really want for my prize, y’know. Think you can do that for me?”

“Just a little more.” You breath shakes as your nails dig into his arms. “Don’t stop fucking me, Sero. I need you.”

Sero grinds his hips into yours, his tip pushing up against that sweet, velvety cushion inside of you. “Like this, hon?”

“Y-yeah, that-! Just like that! I’m-!” He feels it then. You surge, pussy spasming  around him. You make a sort of long whimpering sound and melt into him, clutching the lapels of his shirt, and pulling him into a kiss. He finds himself quickly growing addicted to the taste of your lips, and it distracts him from his own oncoming orgasm. It’s too late for him to pull out, so he chokes on a groan, and let's go. He spills himself into you, coating your fluttering walls with white, hot seed.

“Oh, fuck.” He laughs breathlessly. He holds you still, but he can already feel himself spilling out of you. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No?!” You ask, half-incredulous, half-amused.

He’s happy to see you’re in good spirits, but when you moan a tiny bit when he pulls out, his half-erect dick does a little jerk. Inwardly, Sero scolds that carnal monster, and quickly uses your briefs to clean up the mess. He peeks at you apologetically, then pockets your soiled panties.

“That’s kinda pervy,” you say, coy, but your smile is as bright as ever.

“I mean, if you wanna carry around cum-covered underwear, be my guest.” He moves to grab them again, but instead, you lace your fingers with his.

“No, no! You did good!”

Sero lifts a brow. “Just good?” That carnal monster huffs. “If you’d like to go again, just be to sure-“

“No, that was something else!” You chuckle, grin widening. “Like, wow. We should’ve started doing that months ago. Who knew all I had to do to get you to fuck me was drop my panties to the floor?”

Sero snickers. “If I knew you wanted me to fuck you, you could waggle a finger at me, and I’d come a-running.”

“That so?” You let go of his hand, and bounce back to the room’s entrance. You cast a look over a shoulder at him, do a little beckoning motion with your finger, and disappear.

The carnal monster barks at his feet to get a move on. Sero makes a mental note to bring you to the fair every chance he gets. He takes off, chasing you through the funhouse, following the sound of your beautiful laughter.

[psychedelic-ink]

This is my commission for @bisexualturtledove ! Thank you so much for commissioning me and letting me post it! I hope you enjoy this uwu 

also this might be my favorite banner i ever did 

Pairing: Law x chubby!fem!reader x Zoro

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word count: 2.2K 

Warning: Relatives talking about your weight and being mean about it, Reader being insecure about her weight, oral (receiving), threesome, overstimulation 

Summary: Your cousin reminds you how much you’ve gained weight and implies that Zoro and Law aren’t happy with you like this. Time passes and you start to believe what you’ve been told, that is until Law and Zoro sit you down and remind you how much they love you. 

Commissions | Ko-Fi

“Have you gained weight?” 

A chill went down your spine at the hearing of those words. Your eyes widened as you stared at your cousin with an astonished look. But it seemed like your expression has gone unnoticed by your cousin as she continued to spout words of poison. 

“Seriously whenever I see you it seems like you get bigger,” she chuckled. “Law and Zoro must be disappointed.” 

“Disappointed?” you repeated your lips feeling numb. 

She rolled her eyes as she placed the wine glass on her lips and took a big gulp. Your eyes followed her gulps. Your brows were raised high, how on earth did the conversation take such a shift? Your stomach churned and you felt yourself starting to sweat when she tore the delicate glass away from her lips. 

“I mean, have you seen them?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Their pecks could cut diamonds. They’re both fit as hell, surely they don’t like the fact that you’re...not…” 

“I…” you swallowed, your grip on your wine glass tightening. “They never said anything like that.” 

Your cousin gave you a pitiful look, her lips quivered up as she stared down at you. Momentarily you lifted the wine glass to your lips, thinking that if you took a sip the tense mood would be lifted but the scent of the alcohol made you feel sick due to the words she had just spoken. Your whole mood had fallen to the ground and you doubted you could pick the pieces up. 

“Oh honey,” he pity reached your ears. “Of course they won’t say anything but you probably know deep down right? You need to be blind to not see that you’re out of their league.” 

“Y-Yeah,” you managed to choke out, feigning a smile. “I’m on a diet anyway,” Lies. “I’m working on it.” 

“That’s great!” she exclaimed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hope it works out for you! Men like that just don’t stay for nothing you know?” 

You quickly nodded, her hand almost felt like a 100 pounds on your shoulder. Biting your bottom lip you waited for her to pass to the next victim, it seemed like someone had heard your prayers because her eyes widened and smile grew wide when she saw someone else and moved on to them. 

Mentally and physically you felt more relaxed with her leaving. You let out a deep breath and quickly placed your wine glass on the nearest surface. 

You couldn’t help but think your cousin was right when you grabbed your coat and headed home. 

≿————-　❈　————-≾

When you arrive home, you were glad to see that Law and Zoro were watching a movie. Well, it would be better to say that Law was watching a movie and Zoro was sleeping. You sat on the couch next to them with a groan, eyeing the TV as you did so. Zoro’s head was gently lying on top of Law’s lap and Law played with his soft green hair. The doctor tore his gaze away from the TV and on to you. 

“Welcome home,” he said in a low voice, careful to not wake Zoro up. “How was the gathering?” 

“Hell.” you said simply, your cousin’s words still echoing in the back of your head. “That’s pretty much it, not much to say.” 

Law observed you momentarily before turning his gaze back to the TV. 

“You can tell us if something is bothering you, you know?” 

Your eyes widened momentarily before you fixated your gaze to the TV as well. Even though it was nice that Law knew you so well it was also eerie. Despite his reassuring words you decided not to say anything, you already felt sick to your stomach, you didn’t want to talk about it. Nor did you want them to know that deep down, even though you knew it was foolish, kind of believed the words your cousin had spout. 

“Just the usual family gathering, not really much to say.” you smiled. “Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” 

Needless to say that was a lie. 

Days, weeks passed and your distance between the boys grew. You stared at the mirror for a longer amount with words of poison spiraling in your mind. You didn’t know how to make the feeling of uneasiness go away. The negativity towards yourself continued to brew inside of you and the boys noticed. 

Whenever one of them attempted to touch you, you moved away, you talked less and more and more you spent time in your room. Reading, watching mind numbing content on youtube. You could tell that they were slowly getting flustered with you, they didn’t understand and would never be able to. The more you thought about it the more you wondered why they were even with you. 

Then one day Zoro pulled you to the living room and sat you down on the couch as both of them took their places across from you. Anxiety brewed inside of you and you started to play with the hem of your shirt as you averted your eyes. 

“What’s going on with you?” Zoro is the first to speak, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah I am,” you replied quickly, still not looking at them. You could feel Law’s eyes boring into you. “I’m just a bit tired that’s all.” 

“Bullshit.” the green haired man suddenly snapped. “You’ve been avoiding us for weeks. If we did something just tell us.” 

“You didn’t do-” 

“Then why are you avoiding us like the plague!” 

“You wouldn’t understand!” you shouted as well, finally fixing your gaze on him. 

“Aha!” Zoro shouted triumphantly. “So there is something wrong, tell us.” 

“Is it because of the family gathering you went to?” 

Law’s voice cut the atmosphere like a knife, he was calm and collected. You gulped and turned your eyes to him, before you could reply Zoro spoke first. 

“Did something happen there?” he asked, turning to Law. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Law shrugged. 

“Y/n told me nothing happened so I didn’t pry.” 

Zoro snapped his head towards you, his gaze now more curious than anything. You felt your breath getting stuck in your throat, heart rising up to your cheeks you stared down at the floor. You hear Zoro sigh and he sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist he pulled you close. Swiftly he placed a kiss on the top of your head and asked again, this time much calmer than before. 

“We’re worried, just tell us what happened.” 

“My,” a knot formed in your throat as you tried to speak. You swallowed and continued. “My cousin said that I gained weight and that… you guys weren’t happy with me basically…” 

“What?” Zoro asked, bewildered. 

“Is that why you’ve been keeping your distance?” Law continued, coming closer and sitting down to your other side. “You felt that we didn’t want you...just because you gained weight?” 

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes and buried your face into Zoro’s broad chest. He pulled your closer, his arms tightening around you. Slowly nodding you said nothing else. 

“That would never happen,” Zoro murmured against your hair. “We don’t love you because of how much you weigh.” 

“It sounds to me that your cousin is just bitter,” Law said, placing a hand over your thigh and caressing your plump flesh over your pajamas. “With her nasty personality I doubt anyone even so much as glances at her.” 

Law’s hand traveled up your thigh, his thumb caressing you a soft moan left your lips. It’s been a while since you had sex and you would be lying if you said you haven’t been craving them both. Your cunt twitched as Law’s fingers ghosted over your clothed heat. 

Meanwhile, Zoro’s hands snuck under your shirt. With his fingertips he traced your spine, making you shiver and whine. You could barely call it touch with the way he was stroking you. 

“I guess we’ll just have to remind you how much we love you.” Law muttered while he lifted your legs up to the couch. 

Zoro slid his hands to the front of you as Law prompted you to lay on your back. He now was nestled between your legs, pulling down your pajama pants as Zoro started to fondle your breasts. 

You felt your face starting to heat up as Zoro buried his face into your neck. Licking and nibbling on the sensitive flesh, his hands kneading your soft mounds. A sharp yelp left you when he pinched both of your nipples, your back arched and you bit your bottom lip. 

Your whole body was burning up, lips parted, you were already dripping. Law, squeezing your thigh, lifted one of your legs over your shoulder and leaned down. Your cunt throbbed at his prying gaze, instinctively you spread your legs wider and his smirk grew. 

“Someone’s eager.” 

Law dipped down and left a trail of open mouthed kisses as he traveled up to your core. He spread the folds with his fingers and latched on to it, lapping up your juices as his life depended on it. 

Your head fell back and Zoro continued to suck on your neck. He rolled up your shirt, exposing your plump breasts and started to roll your nips between his rough fingers.  A bit of saliva dribbled down your chin. Your whole body continuously spasmed, the overwhelming sensation being too much for you. 

Law’s sinful tongue went in circles around your gaping hole and wiggled the muscle inside. You lifted your lips to give him further access and soon enough he started to thrust his tongue in and out of you. Your whole body trembled and he rolled your clit between his fingers. 

Your moan gradually became louder but was cut short when Zoro took a hold of your chin and turned you to face him, he crashed his lips against yours. Moaning into the kiss, your tongues danced alongside each other, licking and sucking on the warm flesh. Both of them were simply intoxicating, you missed this, missed the feeling of them drowning you with their love and passion. 

Law squeezed your love handles as his tongue continued to penetrate you, every so often he would wiggle it inside of you making your scream out his name over and over again as heat started to build in your core. 

Your fingers tangled in Law’s raven hair you broke the kiss as you pushed his face in deeper. You moaned his and Zoro’s name over and over again as both of them pushed you over the edge making your insides quiver and your body spasm. 

“Fuck...” you breathed out tugging on Law’s hair. 

Law lifted his head to glance at you, his chin was drenched in your juices. He had a pleased smile plastered on his face as he leaned down to swiftly claim your lips. 

Continuing to kiss you Law aligned himself with your twitching hole. You were already so sensitive that it felt like you would cum the moment he started to push in. He broke the kiss and grabbed your hips, slightly lifting you up so he could reach even deeper inside you. 

Law was slow and gentle as he buried himself into you inch by inch. Zoro had his lips on your ear whispering words of encouragement and praise as Law bottomed out. Your already sensitive cunt was throbbing and aching as it wrapped around Law’s length. 

As Law started to move, Zoro bit the lobe of your ear, his tongue dancing along the skin. Your back arched and your moans grew louder as the noise of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Eyes closed and mouth open, you screamed out their names over and over again. At that point you weren’t even sure you were properly voicing them out. 

You felt Law twitching inside of you, he hissed and gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh. Your insides feeling warm and tingly, your toes curled as you came the second time that day. As your orgasm washed over you Law quickly pulled out and came, hot ropes of cum shooting all over your lower abdomen. Feeling dazed, your whole body twitched. Zoro nuzzled the side of your face and planted a kiss on your temple. 

“Are you alright?” he muttered, his voice clearly still dripping with lust. 

You slowly nodded, your inner walls still twitching and your body spasming as you came down from your orgasm. 

“Good,” Law said, leaning closer, his breath ghosted over your flushed face. “Don’t ever believe the bullshit people tell you, again.” 

“And tell us about it.” Zoro added. “How are you feeling y/n? Up for round three?” 

Law chuckled at that, he inched closer to Zoro and gave him a sweet peck on the lips. 

“Poor Zoro,” he teased. “Do you feel left out?” 

“I wonder why?” he snorted. 

“I…” you breathed out. “I can go for round three.” 

A devilish smile spread across Zoro’s handsome features. 

“Good.” he hummed, starting to move from underneath you. 

Finally the negative thought and emotions left you as your two lovers devoured you. 

[displacedentities]

Night Out

My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings​ Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.

-Myst -----

Finally. Another shift in the books.

With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.

Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...

He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.

"Hey Luka?"

Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.

"Luka..."

And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.

"HEY!"

This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.

The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.

"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.

"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."

"I was asking if you ever go out."

"Ah- what?"

That was unexpected. Go out?

"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"

Ah.

Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.

"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."

Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.

Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.

"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.

Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.

"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."

"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."

Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.

"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."

Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.

"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"

Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.

"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"

Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"

"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."

Shit.

He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.

Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.

"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."

Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.

Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.

"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"

"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"

...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.

"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."

Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.

"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Wait!"

Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.

"What day were you planning to do it?"

What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!

Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.

"Saturday! Would that work for you?"

"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."

Bad idea, what are you doing?!

"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"

Say no, say NO!

"Sure, sounds fun."

AGH!

"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."

"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."

"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.

"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.

Oh thank god she's gone.

Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.

Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.

The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.

------

MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"

"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."

Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-

Was he really going forward with this?

...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.

Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.

It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.

Stay calm. You can do this.

The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.

"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.

"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."

"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."

"You mean like the chairs in high school?"

Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.

"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."

When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.

It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.

Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.

This would be a great evening, he could feel it.

"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."

"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."

"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."

"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."

"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."

"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."

"Coffee twink," Clover counters.

"No, that's MJ."

"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.

"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."

"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.

Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.

"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.

"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.

"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."

"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."

Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.

"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.

"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."

"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."

The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.

"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.

"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."

"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"

"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"

"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."

Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.

"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"

"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."

Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.

Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.

That was- heavier than expected!

"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."

"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."

"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.

Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.

A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.

"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.

"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"

Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.

The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.

"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"

"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."

"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.

When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.

Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.

"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"

Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.

The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.

Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.

“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”

“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”

Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.

The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...

Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-

The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.

"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.

"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"

"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.

Clover shakes her head, not having it.

"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"

"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.

"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"

Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.

This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?

"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."

"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.

"No betting. I know you can."

Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.

---

The evening is going fantastic.

The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.

The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.

"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.

"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."

"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.

"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."

"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."

Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.

"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.

"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"

"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."

"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.

"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."

Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.

The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.

Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.

No-

No no no-

His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-

9:17?

They'd been here nearly four hours?!

He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.

His time limit was up.

This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!

"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."

Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.

The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.

"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"

"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.

MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"

"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.

"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"

Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.

No- not now! Why now?

Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.

"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"

He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.

Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.

"No..."

This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.

He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.

"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."

-bang bang bang-

The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.

"Luka? You ok in there?"

It was MJ.

Peck!

Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?

"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"

"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"

He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!

"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"

"NO!"

No, the reverb was stronger!

"Luka, I'm coming in."

"MJ it's fine!"

Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.

Shit, shit!

Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!

Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-

The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.

NO TIME!

Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.

The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.

Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.

Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.

"Luka?"

His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.

Footsteps, in the bathroom.

"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"

"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"

"His shoes are here..."

"His shoes??"

Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!

God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?

-brrring brrring-

The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.

MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.

The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.

Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.

Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.

He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.

Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.

Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.

As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.

The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.

Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.

His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.

Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.

"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.

"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."

"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"

"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."

"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"

"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."

"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"

"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."

"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”

"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"

"Wait-!!"

-click-

MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.

Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.

Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!

A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.

Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.

Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.

Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.

The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.

Thank god the man didn't have a camera.