#now if only I wasn’t also dirt poor…

[couldbebetterforsure]

Hey there guys, long time no post!!! But I finally had time to make a bit more progress in Engage (yay!!!!) so now I have a new update for you! Oh and I added my reaction to Tiki’s paralogue, which I forgot to mention last time!

Tiki’s Paralogue: I completely forgot to write down my thoughts on Tiki’s paralogue in my last update!!! I did it I think a short bit after I did Jean’s paralogue? Which is funny considering I’ve basically glued Jean and Tiki together for this playthrough! The paralogue itself was lots of fun despite the fact it took me FOREVER to finish it! I had poor Chloe slowly making her way around the perimeter to get that Silver Card from that random spot in the back (which bless because I am dirt poor in this playthrough so getting shit for half off is beautiful 🙏) And then there were those healers who are completely blocked off so I HAD to have Chloe take them out otherwise anyone else in my army would get trapped. The white dragons and Tiki herself were the most threatening ones of the enemies on this map. Especially Tiki, my sweet girl hit like a fucking TRUCK! Her conversation with Marth was super cute! I’m glad Alear now has a fellow divine dragon to speak to after Lumera’s death.

Chapter 10: Veyle honey thank you very much for pointing me in the right direction! Excuse me as I ignore that really unsettling moment you had before you disappeared. Yup I knew it ripperoni in pepperoni Morion 🫡 Jokes aside I did like the guy enough that his death was sad, especially with how upset poor Diamant and Alcryst were over it. The music for this map was SO good, especially the chanting that starts up once you break into the room in the center! Of COURSE I went and had Diamant and Alcryst take on Morion I need that juicy dialogue! And WOW that was depressing. Honestly that was some of the saddest battle dialogue I’ve seen to date. Diamant wondering if he was a good son and Alcryst telling his dad he loves him all while Morion can only growl and groan as a Corrupted. Alear’s own dialogue was also sad as well. Hyacinth was a pain in the ass between Lyn’s super fat reaching arrows and that cloning thing! But once I finally got to him POW he went down! Ha ha getting snacked on by the very evil demon snake dragon you summoned is a perfect end for you Hyacinth. Wow Veyle was the evil girl? I’m sooooo shocked…In all seriousness though, the VA does a good job of making Veyle sound distinct enough in both versions that by voice alone I wouldn’t say they were the same. And I get the feeling the nice Veyle is not so fake. WHAT? The fuck do you mean you’re taking my Emblems?????? Marth, Sigurd, Celica, Micaiah, Leif, Roy 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Give me my babies back you piece of shit snake!!! WTF the time crystal too???? I can’t rewind turns anymore? Do you have ANY idea how shit my luck is?! Seriously what an interesting turn! Giving you several chapters of using the Emblems and then taking them away! How evil!

Chapter 11: Ooh right into the next map huh? With more really lovely map music! An escape chapter? That’s a new one! ……Hold it no time rewind and no Emblems with MY garbage luck??? AND random enemies will have the evil red versions of my Emblem buddies? Yeah long story short I had to restart this map A BUNCH. At least they didn’t take away the DLC Emblems so Jean (with Tiki) and Celine (with the 3H lords) weren’t nerfed. I’ve heard that some people ended up with some pretty shitty Alears who were only holding on thanks to the Emblems. I wasn’t one of those people but yeah my Alear still was not as good as she was when she had an Emblem attached! And wow I was so used to my Yunaka doubling as another healer since she and Micaiah had been glued together until now…..Oh Ivy? And Kagetsu and Zelkov as well? Zelkov my man!!!!! Yoinking back the time crystal I love you!!!!! And Ivy giving us two Emblems in Lyn and MY BABY GIRL LUCINA 🥳🥳🥳🥳 My sweetest daughter you’re safe at last!!!! And Ivy, Kagetsu and Zelkov join! Heck yeah more fire power, I can rewind time again AND I got a couple Emblems! The rest of the map was a lot more straightforward after that. Lucina was so fun to use especially with her “everyone dog pile on this sucker” ability! And Lyn was great with her long reaching arrows. And now I have Kagetsu that demon man on my side now! The after battle dialogue was pretty good too, from Alcryst being angry at Ivy to basically everyone blaming themselves for the disaster to Alear’s growth and determination to be better to both Lyn and Lucina giving their own advice and support. But my other Emblem babies 🥺🥺🥺 I’ll save you guys!!!!!

Chapter 12: I got to promote both my Alear and Alfred and I am so glad! Alfred’s flower crown got even more flowery~! And Alear can punch shit now HELL YEAH!!!! When do we get access to unlimited Master Seals because the few I have can only take me so far….Anyways, it’s on to Solm! Sun, sad, desert….I would die I am not good with heat. And welp we’ve all gotten our asses lost. Beautiful….Oh but here comes Fogado to save us from dying of heatstroke! A Sentinel huh? Sure buddy I’ll help you out if you lead us to the palace! I like Fogado he’s friendly and charming, even if he’s another now user I need to test my luck on. And what a duo he has with him! Bunet seems to talk in nothing but good metaphors. And Pandreo, a howling party priest I love that!!!! Oh fuck we gotta protect ally villagers? *sigh* Alright bring on the garbage…*sees the villagers are not in enemy range and don’t otherwise move themselves into danger* Oh fucking bless! A very easygoing mission even with the quicksand, probably as an apology for the last couple maps. I really love Solm’s battle music it’s so 💃💃💃💃💃 you know? Anyways battle is over and Fogado leads us to the palace and what!!!! He’s the prince!!!!! I’m shocked I tell you shocked! Not like preview info didn’t already tell us that!!!

Lucina’s Paralogue: After the last chapter the final DLC Emblems were released so I took a mini break to do a couple. I know the DLC Emblems have special conversations with some other Emblems so I only did the ones I have Emblems who comment on for. But that doesn’t have to do with Lucina’s paralogue I just decided to explain it here. Ahhh Arena Ferox my old friend! I think I mentioned it before but as I’m playing this game I’m also casually doing a Hard mode run of Awakening, my actual very first Hard mode playthrough of ANY Fire Emblem game I’ve played! With all the hundreds of hours I’ve devoted to Awakening already as well my nostalgia was cranked to the max especially with that great remix track! The map itself was incredibly straightforward, like I think I actually had a harder time during my Hard mode playthrough of this map in Awakening 😂 Luci baby c’mon I know you can be more challenging than that! But it’s done and heck yeah Lucina can now reach bond level 20!

Chrom and Robin’s Paralogue: Of course I had to do the wonder duo’s paralogue as well! And of course I brought Lucina along for the ride! Lady Robin is my girl so I’m sad she’s not here but I still love male Robin too! And Chrom!!!! My husband!!!!!! 😍😍😍😍 My original and forever top blueberry husband I am so happy to see you again! Their opening dialogue was both sweet and funny! The map itself was something alright! Especially once they brought out all those puddles. Also just from reading the descriptions Chrom and Robin’s skills seem super busted!!! But it was fun figuring out how to do things and I adored Lucina’s dialogue with both Chrom and Robin (she was so happy to see her dad again). But another map down and another Emblem bracelet obtained! Thank goodness because my squad needs some more Emblems, we only have the 3H lords, Tiki, Lucina, Lyn, and now the Chrom and Robin duo.

Hector’s Paralogue: I decided I would do one more Emblem Paralogue before I would head back to the main story and I decided to go for Hector since I heard he only has a convo with Lyn among the Emblems. I only know of Hector from FEH and watching other people’s lets plays of the Elibe games but I really enjoy his personality! This fucking map though…..Fucking poison hell….Every time I think I’m safe I realize I accidentally put one of my poor units in the direct line of fire from one of those poison sprays. And the number of times I had to use the time crystal because I brought Citrinne along for this map in order to level her up since I promoted her to a Sage but the girl’s made of tissue paper 😞 Citrinne, honey, please….Aw well I got that nice Hector-Lyn dialogue and Citrinne finally kept her ass alive long enough to KO Hector for me. That’s another Emblem bracelet for me!

And that’s where I’m currently at, just level grinding and bond grinding and otherwise preparing to continue the main story of the game! Still having tons of fun with Engage and can’t wait to see where things go from here! Also can’t wait to get back my original Emblems too, I miss them…

[ateliersss]

Downtime and a Bath

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: Your mate returns from a hunt, in desperate need of a bath. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 1.823 Before the Blooming Family series

⇨ I'm not exactly happy with it, nor am I sure if it's even worth publishing, but anyways, here it is. I had an idea three hours ago and wrote the thing in two, therefore the poor quality. But hey, at least it's out of my head.

⇨ Also. thank you to each and everyone of you for letting me reach a 1.000 followers a few weeks ago!

It was nighttime.

Lounging on your nest, you tilted your head back and looked out of the window behind you. Upside down, the twin moons, twinkling stars, and other celestial bodies you couldn’t name were occupying the bottom of your view while the wildlife with its mountains and forests extended across the top of your eyesight.

You sighed at the inky-black sky. Mi’ytiar had told you hours ago his hunting trip would end today and you had hoped it would be at a time you were awake. But according to the moons, the night was already half over and you knew you would soon pass out from exhaustion.

Maybe you could rest your eyes for a little bit. There was no problem with that, right? You were already lying in such a comfortable position — the cushions underneath you supporting your body just right, the blanket keeping it neither too warm nor too cold, the pillows behind your head cradling it perfectly. You could just close your eyes and listen to the crackling of the fire around your nest. No shame in that.

You were just dozing off, losing the inner battle against the overwhelming fatigue, when you heard a dull thud that was muffled by the closed door that led to the main area of your home.

“Wha…” You mumbled and pushed yourself up with your eyes still half-closed.

Seconds later, the door slid open and revealed the imposing sight of your mate.

So he was finally home. It made you breathe out a happy sigh and a drowsy smile etched itself onto your lips. You felt instantly at ease at having your mate back home and by your side. Not that you ever felt in danger being without him on the grounds of his clan, but you could never know who or what could force its way into your home when Mi’ytiar was gone. However, you doubted that they could make it far to you. Not only did your mate have his loyal warriors who had their eyes on you when he wasn’t able to himself, but the three Hell Hounds outside would rip anyone with bad intentions apart.

You rubbed your eyes until Mi’ytiar became less blurry and you let them wander over his figure, noting the state he was in. He was covered in dirt, grime, and what you hoped wasn’t his blood. As much as off-putting his appearance was, you were pleased to see that he complied with your wish to keep whatever corpse he had kept as a trophy away from your bedroom and instead leave it on the table in the main room.

You were just about to open your mouth when you flinched back at the intensity with which he was stalking towards you, embodying every aspect of his predatory nature, eyeing you like his next prey.

“No, Mi’ytiar. Don’t you dare!” You protested when it became obvious he was about to climb on your nest, dirtying it with whatever disgusting fluids his body was covered in.

But he didn’t listen, his mind hazy with hunger and overcome by the lasting high of his latest kills. Bad Bloods were a nice challenge and he was thrilled when he discovered that three of them were hunting on a neighboring planet. Their heads were now lying on the sleek black surface of the table outside.

You yelped when his bone-crushing weight settled on top of you, successfully covering your whole body with his, and his face buried itself in the crook of your neck. You could hear and feel the greedy intake of your scent through his nose. His tongue licked over every inch of your skin nearby as his hands roamed your body, his claws already ripping on the fabric of your nightwear.

You would have spread your legs for him, would have helped him take off your clothing, offering every part of your body for him to take, to devour, if the fact that he was just ruining the materials you had used for your nest wasn’t the only thing on your mind right down. As well as the disgusting stench that overwhelmed your nostrils and made you gag.

You weren’t the most flexible, definitely not now, but you still managed to pull up your knee and push him away from you by placing your foot in the middle of his chest. You knew you wouldn’t have succeeded if not for a subconscious part of his mind was still able to obey you even though his logical thinking was clouded with primal need.

Mi’ytiar, though very reluctantly, backed down and sat back on his haunches. His claws dug into his thighs and his chest was heaving with heavy breaths, showing how much strength it required for him to hold himself back.

“I’m sorry, my love, but you reek.” You grumbled and eyed him in disdain.

He only growled back.

“Why don’t we take a bath, hm?” You suggested with a head tilt to the door to your right which led to what you would call a bathroom by human standards.

Sliding sideways off the nest, you walked backward, a smirk on your face and your eyes fixed on him as your fingers fiddled with the knot of your robe, a souvenir you had acquired from one of your trips to Earth.

“Are you coming, tanhì?” You asked him, placing one foot behind the other.

The swishing of the door and the different feeling of the floor covering signaled you had entered the bathroom. The first time you had been inside it when Mi’ytiar had shown you your new home, it reminded you of a cave. Despite the usual futuristic and modern Yautja aesthetic, this room had a natural feeling. It wasn’t unlike the bathroom of the apartment you had lived in with your family decades ago. The necessities had been there. Except for a bathtub. Yautja didn’t necessarily bathe. They swam, yes, but bathe?

You didn’t exactly need a bathtub as you hadn’t used the one you had back then, but after a tiring day, it had been nice to relax in the hot water. Someday, you had voiced your displeasure to Mi’ytiar who had scooped you up and taken you to the hot springs not far from the clan grounds but still inside his territory. And although the sight of it was breathtaking — steam rising from the ponds of water arranged like stair steps so the water could run down from one spring to the next like a waterfall — and the surrounding nature was quite romantic, you weren’t exactly comfortable stripping naked where whatever lurking creature could creep up on you.

You didn’t want to complain, of course, and you would eventually adapt to the fact that you had to forego certain human comforts. That didn’t mean you didn’t share how humans lived compared to Yautja with him whenever a difference in their everyday life occurred, be it the bed, clothes, or the bathtub.

Just as you were getting used to bathing in the hot springs, hidden in the rock crevice, you stumbled over the beginnings of what would soon look like a pool when you walked into the bathroom to relieve yourself. It was nestled into the large niche — square, three meters by three meters — of the room opposite the door where the shower-like setup used to be. When you had asked him what this was about, he had only said “Home.” and left it by that.

Standing in front of said pool, you turned your head to look over your shoulder and watched as the door closed behind Mi’ytiar who had just entered the bathroom. You let the robe slide down your shoulders and to the crook of your arms before letting it pool at your feet. When you turned to face him, you revealed the side profile of your body to his eyes, the swell of your breasts, and the small bump your belly was sporting.

When you thought back to your profession on Earth, you looked like any expectant mother in the late stage of her first trimester. Your baby bump wasn’t that big yet, but you still had to give up on certain items of clothing because they already wouldn’t fit you anymore.

When your belly started to grow, you suddenly remembered that your period should have started roughly two weeks ago. The second your brain had fully comprehended that your mate could have possibly impregnated you, that with the highest probability you carried the product of your mutual love under your heart and that you would soon become a mother, you didn’t waste a second to track him down and tell him the big news.

He hadn’t exactly reacted the way you had hoped. Instead of a positive or negative reaction, instead of pressing his forehead to yours while purring or growling at you to get rid of it, he had just stared. He stood frozen in front of you and fixed your hands which cupped the barely noticeable swell of your stomach.

You had just gained a little bit of weight, he told himself. She couldn’t be pregnant, she couldn’t carry my pup.

How could you, a human, be able to achieve something where others had failed?

He needed answers, so he hastily but carefully picked you up and took you to Cahrein who only confirmed your suspicion. You were indeed pregnant.

Only after a quick talk with the tribal healer, something about “not possible” and “how”, he finally showed you how he really felt — overjoyed. And how could he not? Now that you were carrying his pup, you were connected to your mate in every possible way.

“Are you coming?” You asked him again, one foot dipped into the warm water.

Mi’ytiar didn’t waste any more time getting rid of his armor, not caring about any damage he may cause, as he ripped every piece of it off his body, letting it fall to the ground as he walked to the pool. When he stepped into it, your body was already fully immersed and you swam to where you kept the nourishing oils, sweet-smelling soap, and the washcloth. With everything you needed in hand, you returned to where Mi’ytiar had settled on the bench of the pool. You freed your hands by placing everything on the edge so you could lift yourself up on his lap. Mi’ytiar immediately pulled you closer, one hand wrapped around your thigh, the other embracing your bump.

You didn’t talk while you cleaned him up. You stayed quiet, not feeling the necessity to talk, while he relished in your pampering, only voicing how much he enjoyed it with purrs. And when you were done, you snuggled up to him, cheek pressed against his chest and arms loosely wrapped around him. Mi’ytiar later had to carry you out of the pool, dry you off, and bring you to bed, your sleeping form pressed against his body.

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[ak319]

Yan Socialite Brother x reader x Yan?Hubby

YOUR LITTLE EZZY'S BACK! So I couldn't help but write more about him. I will also write a version with the reader's wife. Enjoy reading ♡ Ezra Headcanon

In the dark hours, the Alvarez estate was shrouded in a thick silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire that danced in the hearth. Shadows stretched across the grand, dimly lit room, adding to the air of peculiar mystery that seemed to cloak the entire estate. Ezra sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the flames that flickered with a restless energy, mirroring the turmoil within him. The news you had shared with him still echoed in his mind, fanning the fire of his emotions, making it burn hotter, fiercer.

"Amir?.." his eyes were fixed on your back as you scrummaged through the bookshelf. You replied back gently. "Yes, Amir. The boy who works on one of the farms."

So a slave huh?

And then you explained everything to Ezra, from how you saw Amir, appreciated his gentle nature, and were now thinking of bringing him here as your groom. Ezra’s rage simmered beneath the surface, though his fake smile and curious eyes never left your face. But your tone didn’t match the word "thinking", it clearly said, "I am bringing him as my groom." He was happy… happy for you. But on the other hand, he wasn’t happy for himself.

This was the day he had dreaded. For his own peace of mind, he sent one of his attendants, Rowan, to inquire about this so-called Amir. The report? Amir was a poor servant with three siblings and parents who also worked on the farm. Amir was the oldest. Hm. Poor, innocent, loyal, and not too bad-looking, though in Ezra's eyes, everyone pales in comparison to Alvarez's. Nobody can ever be good enough for you. He just didn't want his sister to marry a dirt-face. After all, their family has a certain dignity in society. There was something he relished in this situation, Amir’s meekness, bred by his lower status, was something Ezra could use and if his sister were to marry, it should be to someone who knows their place.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Amir couldn’t shake the memory of the way you approached him that day.

“M-my lady-”

“It’s okay, relax. Just came to greet you and see how the work is going.” His hand continued to glide through the horse’s mane, though his gaze, filled with shyness and respect, lingered on you. You loved that. “What’s your name, boy?”

“A-Amir…ma’am.” You asked him more questions, and with each one, his initial fear of you began to fade. Eventually, he even dared to ask some of his own. He didn’t realize that he had backed away to the fence, cornered by your every step forward.

“I don’t think a…” You gently removed a leaf from his silky hair. “A pretty thing like you belongs on a farm.” His quick breaths brushed your face before he turned away. Did you just compliment him?! How could you not? He was so unique with that snowy hair and those pale green eyes. “U-um, but I have to-w-work to earn-for-”

“What if I say, not anymore?”

On that very day, you boldly asked his parents for his hand in marriage, right there on the farm, while Amir stood paralyzed in disbelief. His parents, naturally, agreed without a moment's pause, and his heart raced as he caught your final glance over your shoulder before you rode off with your men. How could a humble servant like him ever be worthy of becoming your husband? The idea felt impossible, undeserved. But as the reality settled in, he came to see it not as a blessing but as a test---a daunting trial between love, loyalty, hate… and obsession.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

'Time to play some games' Ezra smirked in the mirror as he gave himself a once-over. "Nobody can outshine you Ezra or take your place, nobody."

The grand staircase of the mansion, lavishly adorned for his sister's wedding, became the stage for Ezra's entrance. As he descended, everyone’s eyes were drawn to him. His gaze landed on you seated beside Amir on the sofa, and his smirk widened at the sight of Amir’s expression. Those doe eyes that have seduced his sister were now filled with embarrassment, as they should be.

Amir was at a loss. His brother-in-law, dressed in an outfit nearly identical to his own--albeit more glamorous and in a different color--had just exposed Ezra's facade. All the sweet words and actions before the wedding had been an act. Ezra settled onto the cushion next to you, casually nibbling on some food from the table, savoring the revelation of his little game.

"Ezra, you should have rested," you said, your tone carrying a hint of concern. Amir was taken aback, noticing your relaxed demeanour. It seemed you hadn’t caught onto Ezra’s stunt. It wasn’t your fault, after all. Maybe you are too tired to notice or don't want to scold your brother, whom you cherish deeply, especially in front of guests—many of whom were now eyeing Ezra with a mix of admiration and curiosity. His display was a calculated reminder that he would always eclipse Amir. Ezra had even missed the official ceremony, claiming illness as his excuse and retreating to his room.

"Nonsense!. How could I have missed my own sister's wedding? And did you forget that I managed all these preparations?. I would never miss it."

'Oh, but you missed the vow ceremony, how convenient and now he's here to remind everyone how he managed all of this and such a good brother-in-law he is by being sweet to me and my family.'

"Do I look good, sister?"

"Of course you do. When have you ever looked bad?" You reached out to pat his head affectionately before pulling a small pouch from your pocket. "This is for you Ezra, a token of appreciation for your efforts, as tradition dictates."

Ezra’s eyes sparkled with delight as he accepted the pouch of gold. "It was nothing. Thank you so much. I just did my duty."

He got up soon to cater to guests including Amir's family probably to show off how humble he is.

The only thing keeping Amir sane and easing his worries was you. Your hand held his gently, and he felt comforted by the ring you put on his finger. He placed his other hand on yours, needing the reassurance that you were there for him.

‘As long as you’re here,’ he kept praying silently.

However, as days passed since the marriage, Ezra's facade toward his brother-in-law began to crumble in your absence. Amir couldn’t understand why Ezra, who had been nothing but nice to him, now seemed to act cold and distant.

The taunts, the disgusted glances, and the deliberate ignoring of Amir had become a painful routine. What troubled him the most was Ezra’s ability to put on a friendly front when you were around. He wondered how a person could even do that? Can he be this deceitful too? His parents always taught him to be kind and true to people. That is why he bared himself to you, he opened his heart to you and gave himself completely. By now he had come to terms with it that Ezra won't ever see him as part of the family much less as an equal. But he remained focused on making sure you were happy with him, that he never made you upset with him because that is what Ezra wants but with Amir's modest and docile nature, it was nearly impossible,

"You know, Amir, since my sister is away on a business trip, you might as well stay with your parents for a while." Amir looked up from his untouched breakfast, confusion and concern etched on his face.

"U-um... why?"

"Why?" Ezra's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Well, your duty is to her, and since she’s not here, you might as well go. It’s not like you’re doing anything important around here."

"But—"

"I’ll have the carriage prepared." And just like that he got up and left, Rowan tailing behind him. And so, Amir found himself spending days with his family. His spirits lifted somewhat in their comforting presence, but his thoughts were always clouded by how much he longed to be in your arms. However...

"You don’t just get up and leave like this. Did you even realize how badly this reflects on me? My spouse just vanished after a few days of marriage. I expected you to be waiting for me at the door, but instead, you were here." Your words felt like sharp needles piercing his heart, making him clutch the carriage’s cushion tighter. His mind was filled with images of Ezra welcoming you back, whispering deceitful tales of how he had left.

'He was bored.'

'He doesn’t like it here. I think he doesn't even want to make an effort to adjust.'

'He didn’t even bother to greet you. What kind of husband is he, sister?'

"(Y/N), I d-didn’t mean to leave. It’s just--" What could he say to avoid further anger? Should he blame Ezra? The thought of making excuses or casting blame only added to his distress.

"I don’t care. Next time, don’t leave like that. And if you feel the need to, ask me first. Got it? Also, you can just call your family to visit there. That’s your home now, you don’t have to keep coming back here." He nodded, biting his lip. 'As if your brother would ever let my family feel welcome there. I would never subject them to that mansion of thorns, to be insulted. That’s something I won’t tolerate.'

"Forgive me?" he asked softly, leaning closer to you. "Please, I missed you with every breath." A tired sigh and a gentle caress on his face were all he received, but even that was more than enough for him.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Time seemed to pass slowly for Amir, each day filled with torment and venomous words from Ezra. He hid his tears, letting them out in some corner of the mansion , so that when you returned, he could greet you with a smile. He didn’t know what to do. He didn't want to stress you by complaining about your brother or involving you in this petty game. He felt like he was going mad as he dwelled on his thoughts. The books offered some solace, but he wished his life were more like a fairytale.

“Well, I thought you should take care of the household budget now, but I think it’s too soon for you to handle this. There are a number of reasons for my distrust, which... I would prefer not to share.”

“It’s alright... I just joined the family, so I think it’s inappropriate for me to take on that responsibility. And brother Ezra is handling it well anyway.”

“Thank you for understanding.” You gently played with his hair as his head rested on your lap. “I love how understanding you are.” He melted under your compliment, the magical touch adding to his contentment.

“Anything for you, wife. You know better than me. Whatever decision you make, I’ll always accept it.” He kissed your finger, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of the ring you wore. The ring his family had bought with whatever they could afford, and yet you wore it. You were the only one who hadn’t looked down on him because of his status. You even cared for his family, sending them provisions and gifts.

Actually, there was another person who hadn't looked down on Amir--your mother, Ms. Grace. She was a woman who preferred solitude, keeping herself busy with her hobbies after her husband's death. Whenever Amir felt alone, he made sure to check on her, offering company and conversation.

“You’re a really good boy. My daughter found a gem.” Amir smiled, but his eyes told a different story. They were seated in Grace’s study, having tea. “Something troubles you, and I know what it is. It’s Ezra, isn’t it?” Damn it, is it that obvious?

“N-no, no, he’s nice. I’m just--”

“Oh, save it. He’s my son, I can smell his shenanigans from miles away. And that daughter of mine—utterly stupid!. She’s the reason he’s like this. Either she’s too aloof or just chooses to ignore it.”

“No, no! She has a lot on her plate. I just don’t want to burden her with such petty problems. She brought me here so that she could find peace, not for me to disrupt it.” Grace’s heart swelled with pity and love at his words. “You are my son too, okay? And I’m just trying to help you understand that you’re the only one who can help yourself.”

“W-what does that mean?”

"It means you have to be strong. You’re not some piece of garbage my daughter picked up. She brought you here, gave you a title, and bestowed you with respect--so honor it, and don’t let anyone take it away just because they think you don’t deserve it. My in-laws were a piece of work too. May their souls rest in peace, but I went through some tough times with them. What kept me firm was my husband. Do you get my point?"

Her in-laws--oh, what a tragedy that befell them on that ferry. The whole town was shaken. Perhaps it was their karma.

“Yes.”

"You love her, right?" His head snapped up to meet her eyes. Was that even a question?

"More than anything! Always."

"Then don’t beat yourself up like this. Just do your part and leave the rest to God. Everything will be alright one day." Amir nodded and took a sip of his remaining tea, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful. She was right. Being depressed and crying wouldn’t get him anywhere. Worse, you might even leave him because of his sulky behavior. His fingers tightened around the saucer.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"Sir Ezra has called for you," Rowan informed him as he was putting on his shoes. The two of you were getting ready for dinner. "Me?"

"Yes, you, sir. In his room."

"I'll be there." He glanced at you as you were fastening your coat. "Yeah, go ahead, I'll be waiting downstairs." He nodded and left, but not before helping you with your sleeve buttons and giving you a quick peck.

"You called for me?" His smooth voice reverberated in the quiet room, his eyes finding Ezra nestled in his giant bed.

"Oh yes, you two are going out, right? Could you tell (Y/N) to bring back those pastries that I love?" Something felt off.

Amir swallowed the uneasiness and glanced between Ezra and Rowan. "Sure. Anything else?"

"No. That would be all, thank you."

As always, you had chosen a high-end restaurant, and your presence and attention made him forget all his worries. This was what he cherished the most, his time with you. Your care, your love. He felt, no, believed that he was the luckiest man alive. Contrary to Grace's words, you did pick him from the trash and made him your treasure.

When you both entered the mansion hand in hand, your smile immediately faded into a worried frown.

"EZRA!" Amir barely had time to react as he saw you rush up the stairs where Ezra was now slumped against the railing. The bag of pastries had been thrown from your hands and lay at his feet.

"ROWAN! CALL THE DOCTOR! What happened, Ezra?!"

"Di-did you bring the med...?" Ezra's one hand gripped your collar as the other his stomach.

"What medicine?!"

"The one I asked for..." Ezra's weary, hollow gaze turned to Amir, sending a chill through his very core. "Rowan, help me carry him." You shot a sharp glance over your shoulder at Amir as you hurried up the stairs.

'He did it again... God,' Thought Amir as he bent down to collect the crumbles scattered on the carpet. They mirrored his own shattered emotions and the fractured state of his new life.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I swear he asked for pastries... you believe me, don't you!? Please!"

"I said, let it go. Just shut up." You settled onto the bed, sighing as you saw him standing in the corner, emotionless.

"Amir, come here. There is something you should know." Your tone was soft, almost apologetic.

He sat beside the bed, his eyes cast on the floor. "Listen, I feel like you both don't get along, but that needs to change, okay? He is my brother, and you are my husband. Both of you are important to me. And I wanted to tell you that soon after having a talk with him, I will ask Mother to find a suitable bride for him. This family needs an heir."

Wait...

"Heir?"

"Yes, an heir. Even though, as you know, I'm not a fan of children in any shape or form, the line needs to continue. That is Ezra's duty, so he is essential to me. This whole tedious business of having children...ugh." You rubbed your forehead in frustration. "Whatever. But we will also treat them like our own, okay?" You loathed the idea of carrying a child yourself, and Amir was just as opposed to the thought of you experiencing any discomfort. The thought of losing you over that made him shiver. The business was more important to you than anything, and you made that very clear before marriage. Your word was law. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

"C-can't we both... adopt, though?"

"That's for another day and why adopt now when we can have our own? Ezra has to marry someday. It’s completely fair. He needs to grow up now."

Your tone and earlier outburst made him nod frantically, but a new emotion stirred within him , something close to amusement. Oh, how will Ezra react when you make him marry someone. Maybe it’s for the best, 'At least he’ll get off my back, hopefully.'

Yet, he also felt pity for the woman who would be bound to that two-faced bastard. Is your only goal to use your brother as a breeder? That’s even more amusing.

As you lay down, he went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. If Ezra were to provide you with a child one day, wouldn’t that make him more honorable in your eyes?

'No, after today’s stunt, I’ve had enough of this.'

You want a child, an heir--that’s clear, that's fine. But he won’t let Ezra exploit this situation.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I--I mean--" Ezra stammered, his usual confidence wavering as he tried to find the right words.

You held his face in your hands, your grip firm yet gentle, your eyes searching his. "It's not like I am asking for something outrageous here," you said, your tone soft but laced with expectation.

Ezra's eyes darted away for a moment, then back to you. "I get you, but isn’t it too soon? I mean-"

"You're of age," you cut him off, your tone now tinged with a bit of annoyance. "You’ve never rejected anything I’ve asked of you before, and now you are?"

"NO! No, absolutely not, sister!" Ezra's voice was a mix of desperation and determination. "How can you even think that? I will do it. I will." Inside, though, his mind rebelled. It’s not the marriage that Ezra hates, it’s the idea of spending his life with some annoying woman. What if she turns out to be a snake too?! Oh, he won't forgive that, ever. His eyes betrayed a flicker of dread before he quickly masked it with a forced smile.

"Great, then. Mother will surely find the most amazing match for you," you said with finality, turning to leave. "Just make sure to tell her what your type is. Remember, she shouldn’t just be a good wife but a perfect mother for my heir too."

Without another word, you exited the room, leaving Ezra alone with his spiraling thoughts. Did Amir put this idea in your head? Sometimes, Ezra just wanted to kill that son of a-

"Deep breaths, Ezra, deep breaths," he muttered to himself, trying to quell the surge of frustration. Yeah, his sister wouldn’t be happy if her husband was torn to pieces. 'This is your life now', seeing Amir’s face in this mansion every single day, and soon enough, a wife’s too. Ugh! He threw a vase at the wall in a fit of irritation. He won't ever be in peace until you divorce Amir.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on that for now. He had to carry out your order, even if he despised the thought of dealing with an annoying woman and whining babies. You had given him a task, a job, and he couldn’t let you down. He would never let you down.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Ezra's bride, Jean Aston, had been chosen--an arrangement made with a family friend. While Ezra couldn't have cared less about the choice, he at least appreciated that Jean stood out with her striking red hair and green eyes. His wife needed to be of some caliber, though in his view, only one person could be the true beauty of the marriage, and that person was unquestionably him. However, he also acknowledged the importance of passing on good genes to the heir you desired.

What he hadn’t expected was Jean’s bubbly demeanor. Wasn't she the one who had been too shy to meet him before the wedding?

"Can you be quiet? Can you be a bit more demure?" Ezra snapped, his patience wearing thin as she chattered incessantly, sitting beside him after their vows. "Look at me--am I being so chattery? Bride and groom are supposed to be graceful, woman."

Jean’s expression soured beneath her veil. "Wow, I was just trying to make small talk. I’ve been quiet since our engagement, so I’m going to talk now that we’re married. Also when is the food going to served?I am starving, how can-"

'God, just let this ceremony end already.'

Meanwhile, in the far corner of the room, Amir sighed, silently wishing Jean the best. Poor girl didn’t know what she was in for. His mind wandered back to his own wedding, the memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was hard not to compare the two experiences and feel a twinge of sympathy for her. At least you are way better than Ezra. A lot...no, perfect in his eyes. Always.

Once they retreated to their room, Ezra lifted Jean's veil with a cold, expressionless face, cutting her off before she could utter a word.

"There are some things you need to engrain in that skull of yours. First, always show respect for my sister. Always. You know that, don’t you? Secondly, try talking less and listening more."

"Got it! Now, where’s my wedding gift?" Jean’s cheerful interruption made Ezra’s jaw tighten, but he quickly masked his irritation with a smooth composure.

"No, you tell me first--who advised you to wear a harvest gold veil with such questionable embroidery? Huh? Such a poor fashion choice. I’ve explicitly told your family that gold is my color, I wear it. I don’t want to see you in it again." His fingers traced the material with a disdainful touch. "This abomination definitely needs fixing ." Though the veil was actually quite pretty, he couldn’t accept the fact that she looked good in it-- perhaps more than he did which is a big no.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Months later, the mansion, once quiet and dull, now echoed with the cries of a baby boy whom you named, Joseph. Ezra handed you the baby first which you were hesitant to hold but did anyway, after all you asked for this. It only lasted for a few minutes before he dozed off in Jean's arms.

"Jean," you said, gently patting her head. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and curiosity, her eyes brightening with anticipation. You took the papers from Amir and handed them to her. "Here's a gift. A plot, in your name and another in dear Joseph's. You’ve earned it."

Jean’s eyes widened with surprise and gratitude. "Y-you didn’t have to, (Y/N)-"

"Jean," Ezra scolded gently, his tone surprising you. It seemed that your brother had softened a bit since Joseph’s birth.

"Don’t refuse (Y/N)'s gift. Accept it," he added. Jean nodded, her shyness evident, but her gratitude clear as she met your gaze. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"Good, now rest. The nanny will arrive soon," you instructed, leaving with Amir in tow. Ezra shot a disapproving look at Amir as they exited.

"Don’t be rude to Brother Amir like that," Jean reprimanded.

"It’s none of your concern. Stop being his defender, anyway. Focus on the child, his upbringing must be perfect. And take care of yourself too--I don’t want you fainting while feeding him." With that, Ezra stormed out. Jean sighed, finding him as unpredictable as ever--hot one moment, cold the next.

The tragedy that struck when Joseph was just six months old was unexpected. The poor child fell gravely ill, and even the doctors couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with his stomach. But by some blessing, everyone's prayers were answered when Amir's remedy worked, one his mother used to give when they were sick as children and Joseph was saved. Had it been a moment later, who knows what could have happened. Even though Ezra didn't bother to thank Amir, it didn’t matter. Amir did it for you, for your child.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"You know, I think it's been a while since I married you," you murmured, lost in thought.

Amir looked up from his book and chuckled, "Oh, you realized it now? I think it's been more than a while, my dearest."

"I know, I know." You now stood where he was seated, gently caressing his cheek. "I think it's time you start doing your duty here." You handed him the seal, "You're in charge of the household's budget now." Amir's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but brother Ezra--"

"Shush," you interrupted. "I decide how things are run here. And I’m giving you this responsibility. Don’t disappoint me."

He nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face as he kissed your knuckles. "Never, I won’t ever dream of it."

From within, his heart was bursting with happiness. At last, he had something--something he wanted, something he could use as leverage against Ezra. His plan had worked flawlessly. His hidden knowledge of botany had made it all possible; plants to make poison, plants to make antidote. A soft giggle escaped him and so did some tears, as you left the room, the seal twirling between his fingers.

Deep inside, he couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at him as he saw the pain etched on everyone’s faces over Joseph. His own tears stung with remorse, but he believed it was a good plan--a necessary one to win your trust, your love. He hadn’t wanted to be so heartless, to poison his own child, but he felt he had no choice. Being Ezra’s doormat for so long had worn him down. And for once, watching Ezra in distress was so worth it. Amir couldn’t help but relish every moment.

(AN: OmG, Amir really turned dark, the poor innocent boi. Look how Ezra massacred my boy)

[bisexualiteaa]

DESPERATELY needing a sequel to the sex pollen! Fic,,, they keep the chems and cooper takes some either on purpose or by accident and poor vaultie is going to have to consider restraining him 👅 he's too feral (in the BEST sense)

A Flame in Your Heart Pt. 2

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: established relationship, cursing, NSFW MDNI, slight deviation from TV show, slight OOC Cooper, perverted thoughts, oral (fem recieving) drug use, alcohol use, dub-con (from drug use but consent is very clearly given!!) sex-chem usage! p in v, p0rn w/o plot, absolute filth, riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, multiple irradiated cream pies, fluffy ending, briefly proof read, possible spelling/grammar errors

AN: and just like our man Hancock needing love, had to make sure ol’ Coop got some love too. 😉 I’m glad this one has done so well! I hope I did your ask justice Anon! Thank you again for your request and I hope you enjoy the absolute FILTH that is this sequel. 👅

After your accidental discovery of the sex chem that led to your crazy sexcapade, Cooper decided to pocket the borderline heat inducing drug for a later use. He’d be a liar if he said the idea of *him* experimentally taking it hadn’t crossed his mind a plethora of times since the incident. Would it have any effect on him? Would it make him as sensitive and desperate as you were? Or would his body take it in stride like everything else? He figured there was really only one way to find out the answer to his curiosities. So one night, when you hadn’t any bounties the next day, were stocked on supplies and just had a chance to stay and hole up at the mini-mart, that’s exactly what he did. He popped it, chasing it with whatever liquor was on hand at the time in his flask hidden in his duster, waiting for it to start to take effect.

In the time that he had taken the pill without your knowing, you were running around cleaning the place up some, and then making dinner. Little did he know, you had snuck one for yourself just a little prior when he wasn’t looking, also thinking that tonight would be the perfect night to go all out like the last time. He smirked to himself as he watched you run around everywhere, watching your hips sway as you walked, paying close attention to your ass that was mostly covered in the shorts you were wearing, save for the bottom part of your ass cheeks that poked out some and the back of your bare thighs each time you’d bend over. It had been a while since the last time you two had a chance to do anything intimate other than a short quickie in fear of raiders catching you in, quite literally, a vulnerable position. It was as his eyes began to linger and follow you that he started feeling the unbearable heat you complained about, coupled with the way that he was now painfully hard in his pants in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. He contemplated walking up behind you and pressing himself against you to make it known, yanking your little ripped up shorts and panties down and taking you right then and there, but he resisted. Damn was he hard as fuck though. It was actually beginning to become a bit of a problem for him, he couldn’t move without it brushing against the fabric of his pants, or seem to find a way to sit comfortably unless he had his legs spread. Then he’d think about how pretty you’d look on your knees, not caring about the dirt on the floor as you’d sit between his legs with his fat cock in your mouth. He grunted softly to himself as he slid his hand into one of his pockets incase you would turn around to look at him and see the tent in his pants.

Little did he know that you were doing some of the teasing things on purpose, bending over in front of him when you didn’t need to, taking off your shirt when you complained about it being too hot. You were about ready to skip dinner to head straight for dessert, but you knew you had to play this out, and you needed to play it smart. Poor Cooper on the other hand wasn’t holding up as well as he thought he would, it was as if it got worse and worse in cruel phases. First is the absurdly high body temperature, higher than normal. Then came the perverted thoughts he couldn’t shake as he stared at you, then the throbbing to his dick, and it only intensified the longer he went without some form of relief.

“I ever tell you ya look damn good in them shorts, sugar?” He asked, practically staring holes into you as you’d bent over in front of him to pick up a few stray things off the floor. “Plenty of times, but I’ll always take some more compliments. They’re a hot commodity when they come from you” you said back a little too flirtatiously as you stood back up far too slowly for it not to be intentional, paired with a mischievous grin to match and his dick damn near jumped in his pants. “You bend over one more god damn time, I ain’t responsible for what happens next, little lady” he threatened, making you give a sound of intrigue at his threat before giggling as a heat coursed through your body from the thought. Being bent over the couch again as your legs were spread and his hand rested in your hair wasn’t a half bad spot to find yourself in. In fact you craved that, hoping the chem would help you release that inner whore he liked so much. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. Is it a “not making it through dinner” kinda night tonight then?” You asked teasingly before he did a “come hither” motion with his finger, urging you closer to him before patting his lap for you to take a seat on. “It’s a “not even making it to dinner” kinda night sweetheart. And I don’t think I’m the only one thinkin’ I’d rather have dessert first for a change” he said, making you grin even wider and god how he just wanted to make those pretty eyes of yours roll into the back of your head. You climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs as you sat down with a grin, your hands roaming his chest and beneath his duster to signal him to remove it as you leaned in close. “Well then take it if you want it so bad, honey” you challenged, making him give an amused hum in response before leaning up and pulling you into a needy, heated kiss. You smiled into it as you rolled your hips against his, earning a deep, guttural groan as his hands soon found purchase on your ass, roughly squeezing it in his large hands. He enjoyed the moans that left you from his rough treatment as he made your hips continue to roll against his as your hands traveled along his chest. “I see what left ya so needy for me, took one of them lil’ Date Nights you were trippin’ on a while back. Been achin’ to fuck you stupid” he said, making you giggle as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck. “Mmm…well we’re certainly in for a treat. ‘Cause I took one too” you replied, making him chuckle.

It didn’t take long before Cooper found his way between your legs, what you hadn’t been expecting was the fact that he had you sat down on his face. Sure he’s eaten you out before, but for a man who needed to feel in control and dominant in just about every situation in life, it was nice to let that go for a little bit. “Fuck! Oh god, Cooper…” you moaned as his tongue violated you, sinking deep into your entrance, then working its way up to tease your clit. You sighed blissfully as your hips rolled against the wet muscle, making him groan as you used him. His hands gripped your thighs roughly, keeping you against him and allowing you to do what you needed to seek release as he devoured you like you were his last meal. “So good f’ me” he rasped out before going to suck on your clit, leaving you screaming for him as it brought you closer. You were embarrassed by how fast the knot in your stomach was already close to snapping, blaming the chem for the way it’d get you so worked up you’d be cumming quicker than you normally do. Or at least you would be if it didn’t feel so damn good. He moaned into you at the taste of you, watching all the faces you made from beneath you so he had the perfect view of you, listening to all your pretty sounds, it was all too much for him to handle with such a powerful chem in his system. You felt him groan into you as you came on his tongue, feeling his body move to buck his hips into the air as he reached his peak without a single touch. You sighed happily as you worked yourself down from cloud nine, bucking your hips against his tongue gently before finally letting up and letting him move. “Well ain’t that somethin’” he said as you both shifted lower to straddle his lap before seeing cum painting his lower stomach and still leaking from his cock that twitched with need.

You gave an intrigued chuckle at the sight, taking his heavy cock in your hands and working it up and down, using his cum as lube. He hissed at the sensitivity he normally never felt, he usually had a remarkably quick recovery time if he wanted to go multiple rounds, but it was apparent that this chem had all sorts of effects that made him feel human again. “Been a long time since I had that happen” he said, making you grin. “Kinda hot if you ask me” you replied, making him give a raspy laugh in response as he softly tapped your ass to get you to stop using your hand already and ride him. He watched as you sank down onto him, moaning as you felt him stretch your walls out before he cruelly slammed himself the rest of the way inside of you. Your body jolted from the sudden intrusion, white hot electricity climbing up your spine from it before he was moving you at his own brutal pace. “Ain’t got time for subtleties here, darlin’, certainly ain’t got the patience to go slow” he said, and judging by the loud moans and way your eyes were rolling to the back of your head already as his tip bullied the apex to your cervix, he figured that was alright by you. “Cooper! Holy shit…” you managed to say through your moans as your hands rested against his chest, doing all you could to hold on for dear life as he used you like a sex toy. “Fuck sugar, always squeezin’ me so damn tight, even after all the times I fuck you” he commented, enjoying the way your face would twist up in momentary pain each time he’d first slide in like he was too big for you to handle. He always loved that, enjoying the way you’d eagerly prove you could take it all, hungry to have him balls deep so that he could reach all those spots inside of you your fingers couldn’t reach. The sound of skin harshly slapping skin, the squelching of your pussy as he drilled into you from below you and your shared pants and moans filled the air like a symphony of pure, unadulterated sin. You just couldn’t get enough of it, and neither could Cooper.

He groaned as he looked down at the sight of his cock disappearing inside of your tight cunt, watching as a ring formed around the base of him from your excitement. He always wondered how a sweet thing like you managed to fall for such a depraved man like himself, but it was moments like this that reminded him that you weren’t as sweet as you lead on to be. He watched as you sat back on the haunches of your feet, your thighs jiggling, tits bouncing as your eyes clenched shut from bliss. “Huh-uh, eyes on me pretty lady” he said, pulling your attention down to him, your half lidded gaze falling upon him made him about ready to cum again if he wasn’t careful. Your mouth hung partially open as your brows furrowed from pleasure, and judging by the pitch of your moans and how close together they were getting, he could tell you were close. “Come on baby, cum for me. Wanna see that pretty face twist up and scream for me” he said, making you bite your lip as your mind clouded over, not a single thought in your head save for his name falling from your lips. “Cooper! Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You warned, your hands coming to you with your breasts to add some stimulation to send you over the edge. “That’s it, go ‘head. Let go f’ me” he responded, talking you through it as your legs clamped against the outsides of his thighs, your walls squeezing around him as you came with a scream of his name.

He wasn’t much farther behind, a few sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts later and your walls were painted with his seed, a groan leaving him as he throbbed inside of you, feeling you milk him for all he could give you. You looked at each other, gasping for air and sweat lightly collecting along your skin but it wasn’t enough to sate the beast inside you both. So rather than enjoying the after glow, you were being manhandled into a new position. This time you were on the couch, on your hands and knees as he lined himself up to your leaking hole from behind. His fingers collected his spend that was dripping from you and down the insides of your thighs, grinning as he pushed it back inside. “Bet you’d love if I fucked a cute little baby into you, wouldn’t ya?” He asked, and the thought sent a pleasant tingle straight to your core at the idea of being bred. You whimpered as he teased his tip up and down your slit, collecting your combined cum together as lube as he chuckled. “Too bad them days are gone” he said, soon lining himself up to your entrance finally and pushing in with little resistance. You moaned and arched your back as he sheathed himself in one thrust, your hands clenching the arm rest of the couch as support. “Don’t mean we can’t practice incase they ain’t” he said, starting his brutal pace once more, leaving you slack jawed as your head tilted back to moan from how he hit all sorts of spots inside of you that you loved. “Yes! Want that so bad” you moaned, making him chuckle. “I bet you do” he replied with a smirk, his hands gripping your hips once more as he fucked you, watching your ass and thighs jiggle from the force of his hips meeting yours. “Wanna be bred, have my babies?” He asked, making you whimper as your walls tightened around him at the thought. “Want that so bad, please!! Knock me up” you moaned, truly lost in a whole different world from the pleasure. He gave a dry chuckle, enjoying the way you were so honest and so carefree when it came to sex, it was like you were a whole different person when he was inside of you. “Bet you do, such a good little whore for me ain’tchya?” He asked, making you moan once more at the use of praise and degradation together for something so blissfully sinful. “Yes! All yours, Cooper” you replied through your pants and gasps as he angled his thrusts to press against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside of you that drove you crazy.

He watched as you began to melt, lowering your upper body down and leaving your ass up to create the perfect arch for him to keep hitting it. “Yeah, ya like that spot, sweetheart?” He asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious but he was a little lost himself in it all, never the type to ramble so much during sex but you both realized that chem could do some pretty interesting things. “Yes!! Don’t stop, don’t stop! I’m so fucking close!” You pleaded, and who was he to deny you when you looked this good for him? He gave a devious grin as his hand reached down into your hair, pushing your face into the couch cushions. Not enough to suffocate you, but enough to establish just who was in charge this time. Despite your face being held into the couch, your moans were still loud as ever, not that he’d ever complain. “Cooper!!” You cried as you came powerfully around his dick, your walls squeezing him tight as your release gushed and covered his cock, sending him tumbling over the edge himself as he spilled inside of you once more. “Fuck…I love it when you do that” he said, tapping your outer thigh as a signal to move positions, lazily flipping yourself on your back as he kicked your legs apart once more, already ready to go at it again. “Can gimme one more, yeah sugar?” He asked you, and he knew like this, you’d give him anything he ever asked for. So it was no surprise that your legs locked around his hips as he slipped inside of you for the third time that evening.

As an hour or two soon came to pass, you weren’t exactly sure how long it’d been, time was completely lost on you at this point, you both were just happy to have found yourselves finally sated from the powerful effects of the chem. You both panted, looking at each other with grins at the fact that the most memorable night of your relationship had just occurred once again. “That will never NOT be fun” you replied, making him laugh dryly as he took a swig from his flask before offering it to you once he was finished. You happily accepted as you took a few sips from it, unsure whether it eased or burned your tired throat even more but you didn’t care, it was something at least. “Been thinkin’ whether it’d actually work for me like it did for you, guess we got that answer” he said as he got up to find something to clean yourselves up with, making you laugh in response. “Well, was certainly my kinda date night” you said, watching him walk back over with a wet rag in hand to clean you up then himself before slipping his briefs back on and his shirt. “Too bad dinner’s cold now” you said, making him shrug nonchalantly, earning an eye roll from you as you slipped your underwear and a shirt back on, then dished out two bowls of your famous stew he loved so much. “If it’s made by you, ain’t nothin’ out there that could possibly ruin it” he said, kissing your head sweetly as you handed him his bowl, both of you sitting back on the couch together.

You leaned your head against his shoulder with a soft, happy smile while you watched some of the tapes left behind to play in the TV, having something akin to the wasteland version of movie night. His arm draped around you to pull you into his side, keeping you close to him as he smiled softly down at you. He couldn’t believe that he managed to snag one hell of a woman out here in the wastes, but one thing was for sure, he certainly wasn’t letting you go now or ever.

[olympiansowl]

One thing I find so interesting about the PJO fandom is how they actually accepted how Rick fucked up 90% of the goddesses. Even when he uses a version of a myth that specifically talks about men being idiots, he villainizes women. Like, no one complained about how fucked up is that he used the story of Hephaestus trying to rape Athena and turning it into a “poor guy cried bc he was rejected by a girl” thing?

The true story is literally Hephaestus trying to rape Athena, she fights him off but his semen falls into her skirt and cleans it with a piece of cloth and tosses it into the ground (earth, which is Gaia) and from there, Erictonio is born. And Athena raised the child as her own even tho he was the product of the assault she suffered. The guy ruled Athens.

Rick turned it into Hephaestus falling in love with Athena and crying on her lap, making her reject and KICK him plus being disgusted by the tears and the dirt.

He also used all of Ovid versions he could possibly find to fuck Athena up. Arachne doesn’t happen with Greek writers and Medusa was never cursed (or assaulted) when we talk about the OG Myth. She was already born a monster and Athena only helps Perseus kill her bc yeah, Medusa killed people.

Also, Medusa’s version by Ovid is a lot alike Cassandra of Troy story, and let me tell ya, Cassandra was cursed but it wasn’t by a woman. And when she was raped by Ajax, Athena made sure that he didn’t made it back to Greece.

Now I’m gonna talk about Demeter. Demeter, who had her daughter kidnapped, raped and imprisoned, and was turned into the typical “mother in law who hated son in law bc she thinks her daughter could do better” when yeah…she has all the right to feel angry bc her daughter was KIDNAPPED.

Artemis doesn’t hate men and her followers also don’t hate men. Feminism isn’t about hating men.

Aphrodite. I cannot even describe how dirty they made Aphrodite’s children. Like be fr one of her children helped build what it would’ve been Rome. He was a fighter. And her cabin there is just so different of what she is truly like. They should have a lot of other powers.

Also, a lot of women from the books follows the same stereotype of “omg I hate makeup it’s so girlish and I’d rather fight” like you can be feminine, wear makeup and STILL FIGHT. One doesn’t erase the other.

Another thing, but this one is about MOTHERS! I truly cannot understand the way Rick creates his women. I’m serious tho. Like, I’m sorry but sometimes it seems that his thing some goddesses (Athena, for example) are personal. The “abandoning Athens” thing, the “should’ve chosen Poseidon”, the way he wrote her as being cold towards her kids…in one of the versions, Athena was the one who saved Dionysus from Hera. She raised a child and made him a king even though he was the product of her almost rapist. She was there helping heroes all along. She fought for Odysseus for ten years.

Also, this fandom is incapable of seeing the difference between Minerva and Athena. Minerva gave Annabeth the mark, Athena had nothing to do with this. Annabeth is her favorite daughter, she made her architect of Olympus, protected her through her journey to find Luke and Thalia, disobeyed her fathers orders trying to help to find Annabeth, made battle plans with her and all…and she always claimed all of her children.

I think people just don’t like her bc she doesn’t trust Percy. And she shouldn’t. I love him, but Athena IS the goddess of wisdom after all and as such, it would be pretty dumb to trust a demigod that won a battle against the god of war when he was only twelve. Not to mention that everyone kinda thought the “preserve or destroy Olympus” was on his hands. And he tortured a goddess…I’m sorry but she was pretty much right. Wouldn’t trust someone that had the power to fuck me and my family up either. She dint made the choice based on “omg I hate my rival and his children” even more so bc she was trained by one of his children and bunch of grandchildren. She made the choice based on what she thought was less risky.

If she was so against Percabeth, I can assure you she would’ve killed Percy and probably wouldn’t even suffer much consequences. She admires some things about Percy but she was right about his flaw. And she also helped him during one of his quest to go to college. Does she loves the idea of the relationship? No. But that’s bc she is precisely the opposite of love. She doesn’t make decisions based on what her heart says, but on what her brain says. If she succumbs to the heart, then she would seize to be goddess of wisdom, reason and all of what she values. That’s why she vowed to never marry.

And, as Helenist, I do not take the myths that seriously bc when we talk about religion, I have a clear mind that those myth were made by humans who used the gods as a tool to justify some of their actions, and I hate almost all of the retellings that those authors do, but is so wild to see how much power they have on society bc now I cannot see anything about the gods without someone saying shit about them. But I do know all about the myths and I gotta say, doesn’t make much sense to use a Roman author to talk about Greek Gods. He made them dirty. Also doesn’t make much sense to use this versions of Ovid but still change it to make it more sweet for the men. Poseidon and Athena didn’t spend that much time beefing, they even have a city together (Troezen) and she definitely doesn’t hate his children. Her best friend was literally his grandchild.

Safe to say that y’all should probably question Rick on how he treats women bc I was seeing the PJO series (the cast is amazing btw, safe to say that Leah/Annabeth is my fav) and by the looks of it, saying on how he changed Athena’s personality one more time, I legit think that Annie won’t jump to save her friends on season 3, she will probably be pushed by her mother or whatever.

Another thing: apparently only the women that like and have a friendship with Percy are treated as cool. But that’s on the fandom, not the author.

I forgot to add one thing and I’m gonna fix the grammar later but the “this is for children” excuse isn’t really valid considering that we saw Gabe being aggressive with Sally, we also saw Ares being a jerk to Clarisse (which also doesn’t make sense) and the story clearly states cheating, fights, death and a lot of other terrors. If you’re gonna use a rape version of a myth bc you chose to fuck a Goddess up, then you should state that the man is to blame. In the books we see Medusa saying she was Poseidon’s girlfriend/lover…she was his lover on the og myth, not in the version Rick chose. In the version that he chose, she was clearly raped. But he erased that and replaced rapist with boyfriend. He could’ve chosen to do another path if he didn’t want to talk about sexual abuse, I can tell y’all a hundred of ways this could go, but he chose this path and changed it, favoring the man. Again.

He could’ve gone with the theogony and said what was there that basically is: she was a monster, BORN a monster, daughter of other two monsters, no one wanted to get close to her, but he did. They slept together in a camp of flowers.

Athena only enters the story wayyy after this. And, as y’all can see, no curse. Yet, he chose to go with the rape version were Medusa is a maiden, loyal to Athena, gets raped on Athena’s temple by Poseidon and Athena curses her. And what did the author do? He made this: Medusa, loyal to Athena, fell in love with Poseidon and they did things on her temple. Athena cursed her. Again erasing the men’s fault.

The hate on Athena doesn’t make any sense at all. Y’all love some other male characters that don’t have a single sense of responsibility and possibly did everything wrong in the book. I saw people condemn Athena for her treatment of Deadalus when the guy literally killed his nephew bc he was more praised than him. And Athena gave him a mark that burned and did some shit to teach him a lesson. Poseidon wanted a trial to avenge his rapist son that was killed by Ares bc he tried to rape one of Ares daughters. A RAPIST. And Poseidon is treated like and angel bc what??? He likes Percy? Is his father and got him a gift? And Athena is being hated bc she isn’t his number one fan and her Roman part decided to give Annabeth a Mark? And mind you she’s just like that with him bc she knows more than everyone else and knows that he is dangerous. A good guy? Yes, Percy is the most amazing guy. Still dangerous. Still had the power to torture a goddess and win against the god of war. And she doesn’t dislike him, she dislikes his relationship with her daughter. And even so, she didn’t stop the relationship. So yeah I won’t ever get why the women always get more hate than the men considering this.

Again, as a Helenist, I don’t take the myths seriously when I talk about the religion in general bc the Gods are superiors. They don’t have human flaws. But, as someone who knows about the myths, is safe to say I hate those stories that uses myths like that and turns it against the Goddesses and make them out to be the worst ever. All the gods deserved way better than what they got with those retellings.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP #33

InDependent Together

Imagine dis…

I’ve seen the interactions between Danny and the Batfam. I have seen him have either good or bad interactions with different DC characters, whether he is in his ghost form or not. I’ve seen how Danny is either angry at the world or angry at his brother aka Damian for killing him all for the title of the heir, and how happy and relieved he is to find his brother outside of the reach of the demon head.

But I haven’t seen much of Danny and a semi-redempted Vlad in a toxic relationship.

…

Gotham, a place where the worst of the worst came to live. Where gunshots and screams of murder are something out of the norm. A group of vigilantes made their way to the heart of the city, where despite all of its dirt and grimness, they still tried and loved this city.

Here comes Danny Fenton and Vlad Masters, who moved in the same neighborhood as the Wayne’s. Now Danny is under the guardianship of Vlad, why you ask? It's because a different tragedy occurred. If the explosion at the Nasty Burger was caused by his cheating on a test, now it was something so mundane that Danny didn’t know if Clockwork didn’t see the event due to it. His aunt also died in another freak accident and he sometimes wondered if he tempted faith too much ever since his accident.

 Having no choice he was placed with Vlad as his legal guardian, he wasn’t too keen on the idea but he saw Vlad slowly trying to redeem himself so instead of running away he chose to stay.

…

Vlad is both ecstatic and still in grief at what happened in a month. He was trying to be better, he was making progress to be able to go back to their dynamic when they were still in college. Just maybe this time it will include Danny and Jazz, but tragedy stuck, after months of hard work and compromises it all went down the drain. He was in the middle of his grief when a social worker knocked on his door to inquire about Daniel’s guardianship, which stunned Vlad because he would have thought that the boy had already run away or told the social worker himself that he didn’t want to be placed with him.

The social worker informed Vlad that Danny’s aunt had met her demise as a form of house invasion gone wrong. With no one else to care for the teen, the social worker went to the godfather of the child seeing that the teen that they are in charge with seems to be still dissociating ever since they looked for his aunt. Poor kid, the social worker thought, losing all of your family and friends in a single day. They just hoped that the kid would be taken care of and slowly heal with his godfather.

…

They moved across states to heal, to get far away from the town that seemingly only did was to take and take from the two. Vlad is gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white, his obsession, the one he is too afraid of, and his primary. It kept yelling at him at the back of his head. Maddie Fenton, Power & wealth, and lastly Daniel Fenton are the secondary obsessions that he often shows, but he has another obsession a primary one that is something he kept hidden out of fear of being shattered, family, something he thought to create with Maddie back when they were in college. Vlad can feel it, the way his mind and instincts are all yelling, screaming at him to protect the last thread of his sanity and existence who is watching idly at the trees as they drive by.

By all that's left of my sanity, I swear to protect you, Daniel my Little Badger, at any cost. Nothing will stand in the way of keeping you safe.

…

Danny is also recalling past events, despite having protection as his secondary obsession a part of him broke, and he tried to prevent this event in his life. He thought the ghost of time that he saw as a grandfather would have helped him to avoid it. Didn’t he already avoid such tragedy, fight his future self and win? But in the end, it was still meant to be.

So now, his young core latched onto the last remaining member of his known family. If his past self could see him now, he would call him fraternizing with the fruit loop. He didn’t care, just the thought of Vlad just having a mere paper cut made him go near the edge or even turning feral.

With everyone gone, you're all I have left, Vlad. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, no matter how desperate things get, even if I have to turn into something more than Dan.

Both Vlad and Danny’s eyes began to glow an eery shade of blue and red as they both silently swore to themselves to protect the other no matter the cost. Both fell into a deep pit of promises and oaths.

…

The moment they settle down in Gotham Vlad, Vlad controls Daniel’s every movement, constantly controls Danny's life, deciding who he can befriend despite going to Gotham Academy Vlad begins insisting that the kids that attend the school are suddenly not good enough for Danny, something past him would like to have. Where Danny can go, and what Vlad can do to protect Danny from phantom threats emphasizing they now live in Gotham where every step they take is another crime on the tally. As a result, Danny becomes overly reliant on Vlad's advice and is concerned about making decisions without his approval. He puts himself in perilous circumstances to protect Danny, which causes shame and guilt-tripping.

Especially the last time they went out, they were held hostage by the Joker. Thinking that Danny was a Wayne. Vlad immediately went feral, without outing himself, and killed the men who held him down and brutally filled the clown with lead as he dared to hold Danny in such a way that might trigger his past trauma.

..

But Vlad isn't the only one who uses such tactics, Danny also starts to use underhand methods to gain Vlad’s attention and care for himself. Danny manipulates Vlad by stressing his vulnerabilities and emphasizing the necessity for protection. Danny with tears in his eyes recounts Vlad’s past schemes as a means to exploit Vlad's guilt and pity, forcing him to give in to Danny’s demands for attention. Danny instigates crisis circumstances, falsely promises transformation, and presents himself as a victim. Danny began to expect continual attention and validation, leaving Vlad increasingly reliant on being the only one to praise Danny. Finally, Danny dupes Vlad into offering financial assistance by inflating his demands or creating expenses associated with his human activities within their home.

Danny was relieved when he was chosen to be the main hostage instead of Vlad, but the moment Vlad began to go on feral just to save him. Danny’s little heart began to break, is he not strong enough to protect Vlad? What if he broke something… what if he suffered a heart attack?

Thoughts kept spiraling in Danny’s head as he had that vacant look ever since he saw Vlad throw the first punch to the nearest goon.

…

A QUICK FLASHBACK ON THE POV OF THE BATFAM

The Wayne manor began the morning with a buzzing of news that a new family is moving into the same street at Wayne’s Outsiders if you must. At first, they didn’t mind their new neighbors' quietness but something felt wrong every time they went for a walk or near that house, unfortunately, some cases needed their full attention than a quiet family that seemed to keep it to themselves.

It all came crashing down when The Joker, The prince of crime, met Danny, whom he held hostage thinking that he was a new Wayne. Vlad, the defender, and godfather, who was also there, witnessed his only and last godchild being held hostage by something/ someone he has a traumatic response and history. Brutally killed the Joker out of rage, startling even the most sinister corners of Gotham. The Batfamily confronted Vlad at his mansion and began interrogating him that he was dangerous and that Danny could not stay with him.

Danny stood between Vlad and the Batfamily, his ghostly aura radiating protecting energy. Danny, observing this, asked that they stay away from Vlad. The Batclan continued their efforts to reach Danny, bringing in various people to tell him what normal dynamics should be. Alfred, Barbara, Tim, and Jason attempted to relate to him, but Danny rejected them, his ghostly core erupting with intense protectiveness.

…

Vlad watched with triumph and dread, already knowing that Danny's loyalty would lead to a cycle of dependency on him. However, he didn't want to stop, as Danny was with HIM, and he was HIS.

The family of vigilantes, aware of the slow and painful process of breaking the toxic bond with Vlad, continued to reach out, hoping that one day Danny would understand that true family is about love and support.

For the time being, Danny, now Masters, stayed in the shadows of Gotham, imprisoned in his mind and house, both his mind and heart torn between desperate need for Vlad.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: Here’s another long one… And I got impatient in posting this one, so enjoy!

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 5

Hello! In this one we have things not getting off to the fun start Steve wanted, but Eddie and Steve show Robin the meditative joys of watching the weavers. And Mike and El get a lesson in when to give to friends.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Once they had all paid Steve gathered up the kids.

“You are to stay in pairs,” he admonished. “I don’t care if you swap every so often but stay in at least pairs. You can stay in great big group for all I care. But no one wanders off alone. If you want to do something and no one else does come find an adult, chances are that one of us six was already going to do it, okay?”

All the kids nodded.

“Everyone is to meet here at 1pm and 6pm for lunch and dinner,” Steve continued. “The adults are exempt but I tried to pick times where there wasn’t anything big going on. Food money was given to me by your parents so you’ll never starve. Drinking fountains are everywhere. Stay hydrated, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Will nodded. “I’ll make sure they do.”

Steve smiled. “Thanks, Will.” He held up his hand as they were getting into pairs. “One more thing. Your parents gave you money for loot. If you spend it all today and see something you want on Saturday, I will not buy it for you. Now I can’t stop anyone else from doing the same, but you need to watch your money.”

Eddie looked at the other Corroded Coffin boys who all nodded. “I think I can speak for us adults when I say. I ain’t paying for your shit either.”

All the kids turned to Robin like a lion sensing its prey.

“Don’t look at me,” she huffed holding up her hands in surrender. “I’m poor. I’m hoping that someone pretty will buy me pretty things so I don’t have to go without.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Looks like you’ve been stemmed–stymied–” he frowned. “Looks like you’ve been thwarted all around.”

The kids grumbled but nodded.

Steve smiled. “Now go have fun! I promise, you’ll love it.”

Max and El grabbed each other’s hands and skipped ahead of the boys. Robin smiled.

“That’s the downside to growing up,” she sighed wistfully. “Is adults no longer think holding hands with your best friend is cute, only gay.”

Eddie nodded. “I just don’t care most of the time,” he said with a shrug.

Steve turned to the members of the band. “Are you guys going to be staying together for the most part or will you be splitting up? I just want to make sure I know where people are going to be.”

Gareth and Jeff shared an amused glance.

“What?” Steve asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Eddie said you were such a mom friend,” Gareth explained, “but I didn’t believe it.”

“Yeah, man,” Jeff chuckled. “It’s cute.”

Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down, scuffing the dirt with the toe of his boot.

Brian waved his hands. “It’s not bad. It’s just a surprise.”

Jeff cocked his head to side. “Maybe not that big of one after seeing how he handled Mike...”

Brian laughed. “Fair enough.”

Eddie walked over and lifted Steve’s chin up gently. “It’s sweet, Stevie. We aren’t mocking you for it, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Suddenly Robin coughed into her fist that sounded a little like ‘gay’.

Eddie and Steve almost leaped back from each other while their friends laughed.

“Laugh it up, fuzzball,” Eddie muttered as he stalked past his friends.

Steve just stood there as the rest of them followed Eddie in. All but Robin.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she mumbled. “I thought you two were cute, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. That’s the last thing I thought it would do.”

Steve just shrugged and then led the way into the Fair grounds. Robin’s eyes lit up as the sights, and sounds, and smells came at her all at once.

There were people in jeans and t-shirts but also people in various states of costume, ranging from beginner to professional. The period ranges were vast, too. From the early 14th century to the very, very beginning of the 20th.

Robin was in awe.

“Steeeeveeee,” she said, smacking his arm repeatedly. “This is amazing!”

Steve turned to her and smiled. “I told you.”

She hugged him around the neck. “You did and you were right. Those kids brains must have exploded on entry.”

He chuckled. “Well, thankfully I don’t see any brain goo anywhere, so I think they’re safe.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Where do you want to go first?” Steve asked, taking a pamphlet from Fair worker that had all the events and times on it.

She peeked over his shoulder and hummed thoughtfully.

“There isn’t a lot going on today.”

Steve shrugged. “All the big events like the joust are going to be on Saturday when they have the biggest crowds. But there are still some fun things we can do.” He pointed to the events under that day. “We can watch the weavers or battle a knight.”

“You better not do that one,” she said with a grin.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why? Because you think I’ll lose?”

She swatted his arm. “No, dingus, because you might accidentally pulverize the guy.”

Suddenly there was another arm being slung around Steve’s shoulders.

“I must concur with the lady pirate, mi’lord,” Eddie said cheerfully. “I’ve seen you fight, handsome. You’d accidentally kill the poor actor.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

He looked around but he didn’t see the rest of Eddie’s merry band. “Where are your friends?”

Eddie sighed. “Already succumbed the siren lures of capitalism.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “Huh?”

Eddie pointed a little further down the way where the market had been set up. “They’re at the sword stall.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O and he nodded. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that’s where the kids are, too.”

“That’s because there is nothing else to do,” Robin pointed out. “Not all of us want to watch people make clothes.”

Eddie’s lit up. “They’re already showing the weavers?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, you want to come with me?”

“Hell yeah!” he crowed. He grabbed Robin’s wrist. “You’ll love this.”

And he started dragging her to where the looms, Steve laughing, close behind.

They reached building it was housed in and Eddie stepped aside to allow her to see into the room.

It was brightly lit from them many windows in the room. There were different looms from different eras and different levels of expertise. There was even a cute little blonde girl barely older than Holly, Mike’s little sister in one corner with her starter loom, still making mistakes but being patiently guided by someone who looked to be her mom.

But the true center piece was this amazing Asian loom at the back. The weaver was in a kimono and face paint, but her hands danced along the loom making it seem like she had more than usual two.

Robin was smitten.

Eddie smiled back at her and then grabbed her wrist again to pull her into the room.

The little girl’s mother looked up and smiled at them. “Welcome!” she greeted warmly. “We, of the weavers guild, greet you. I am Goody Danvers. If you have any questions please direct them at me so our weavers aren’t disturbed.”

All three of them nodded and began to wander around. Robin was forced to admit that it was way more than just making clothes or even cloth. It was artistry and technique that was just beautiful to watch.

She was, of course, drawn to the Asian loom with its beautiful weaver.

Steve on the other hand went straight for Goody Danvers. He was asking her all sorts of questions and she just lit up with someone expressing genuine interest in the weaving.

Then Steve asked the question. “You thread is amazing. Do you spin it yourself?”

Goody Danvers face was like the sun with how happy that question made her. “We do! Do you guys want to see how we do it?”

Steve nodded enthusiastically while Robin was loathed to leave the beautiful weaver.

“You go ahead,” she murmured never taking her eyes off the scene the woman was weaving into her tapestry.

Steve’s shoulders slumped a little. But Eddie came skipping up to them. “Prick any princesses’ fingers lately?” he teased Goody Danvers.

She wagged her finger at him. “Do you be going around calling me a witch, I might get burned at the stake.”

Steve and Eddie laughed and mimed zipping their lips closed and throwing away the key.

She led them to the backroom where there were other women spinning. Steve figured these were the ones that didn’t like being watched because more than half of them stopped what they were doing the moment they walked in.

He smiled his best babysitter smile and waved like an absolute dork. One of the teenaged girls blushed and turned away.

Eddie frowned, putting his hands on his lower back. He was about to turn back around and rejoin Birdie when he felt a warm hand on his elbow. Steve wasn’t looking at the pretty red-head that blushed at his dorky wave, he was looking at him. Hazel eyes almost antique silver in the natural light.

“You okay?” Steve whispered.

Eddie nodded. “It’s just dustier in here than I thought it would be.”

Goody Danvers nodded. “No fire of any kind allowed in this room. A simple spark could cause a powder keg in here and I don’t feel like leveling the Fair this year.”

“What type of materials do you use for your thread?” Steve asked, his hand never leaving Eddie’s elbow.

And they just listened to her talk about the different types of threads and what they were used for and Eddie felt the warmth in Steve’s presence as he paid her his rapt attention.

Was that was he looked like when he talked about DnD or metal music? Because if it was Steve never looking away from him when talked suddenly made a lot of sense. It was addicting watching Steve engage with someone who shared his interests.

Steve looked down at his watch. “Shit. We’ve got to go meet some people for lunch. But thank you for taking your time to show me everything and answer all my questions.”

Good Danvers smiled. “The pleasure was all mine. It was nice to find a young man who was so interested in what I had to say.” She walked over to a basket.

“Here, pick out a bundle of thread you like as my treat.”

Steve really lit up then. “Thanks!” He went through the basket and picked out this beautiful red silk thread.

“Good choice,” she said. “I know you’ll make something truly remarkable with it.”

Steve blushed and said thank you again as Eddie led him out. They were forced to drag Robin back out of the building.

“Food,” Steve insisted. “Actually...” he had spotted a water fountain. “Water first then food.”

Eddie took a long drink, his throat dry from the spinning room. Robin went next and then Steve.

They barely made it to the food court just under the wire. Some of the kids were already there. Max and Lucas, Dustin, too. Gareth was there, but Jeff and Brian weren’t yet.

Dustin looked at his watched and tapped like a disapproving father. “Just what time do you call this, hmmm?”

Steve burst out laughing as Eddie threw his arm around his shoulders.

“Like father like son,” Eddie teased.

Dustin gasped, offended.

It wasn’t too long before El, Mike, and Will showed up, cutting it even finer than they had, arriving at 1pm exactly.

Steve just raised an eyebrow as they skidded to a stop in front of their table.

Steve got them their food and most of them were half way through their lunch by the time Jeff and Brian had wandered into the food court.

Everyone was talking about all the things they had seen and their plans for the rest of the day and maybe Steve was more than a little pleased that they hadn’t spent all their money.

Everyone was talking but Will. So Steve slid over to the young boy and nudged his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?” he whispered.

Mike looked up at them and then began to poke at his plate.

Alarm bells were going off in Steve’s head.

“There was this really cool wizard’s staff at one of the stalls,” Will said. “But it costs ten dollars more than what I have on me.”

“I offered to give him some of mine,” Mike said, “but he wouldn’t take it.”

Steve got it. “Ah.”

“It’s your money, Mike,” Will protested. “Buy something you want.”

“I want to buy it for you,” Mike bit back.

El poked at her food too. “I too, offered to help him buy it but he wouldn’t let me either.”

Eddie stood up and motioned for Mike and El to follow him, while Steve scooted closer to Will. “I’m sorry you couldn’t afford it and it’s hard when you want something so bad and it’s just out of reach.”

Will nodded. “But somehow I don’t think you specifically are talking about a wizard’s staff.”

Steve looked up at were Eddie was talking to Mike and El, and then ducked his head shyly. “No, you’re right there.”

Will gave his hand a squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think he likes you too.”

Steve squeezed his hand right back. He just hoped Will was right.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @dolphincliffs @child-of-cthulhu @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv

[theteasetwrites]

Pay Attention

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 5 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: a bit... suggestive, sexual innuendos if you squint, implied dom Daryl ❧ Word Count: 2.3k

❧ Summary: While Daryl works on his bike, you can't help but pay a little too much attention. Not to his bike, though.

❧ A/N: Hiiii I know this oneshot came out of nowhere, but... yeah. Also thank you to @ivuravix, @okaycocoal, @devnmon, and @weretheones for brainstorming (aka drooling over Norman in that new video of him getting his bike) with me!

As he loosened the sprocket nut, cranking the breaker bar with a strained grunt muffled through tight lips, you watched with a languid gaze, only once in a while mustering a hum or two whenever a gruff voice of velvety sandpaper threatened to tear you from your stupor.

But the words were no more than ambiance, a vague collection of obscure sounds that only provided the score to a dizzying display of skilled, smooth movements, the sight of which you had the distinct fortune of beholding. 

With the clatter of metal hitting the concrete, you blinked and felt your senses return to you for a moment, so those indistinguishable sounds turned into words on his breathy, gravelly voice. 

“Now we got the transmission cover off…” He took a breath as he tugged the faded red rag from the back pocket of his old torn-up jeans, in which you had made various stitchings to patch up the holes with new fabrics. Sitting cross-legged, you tilted your head with a barely noticeable little smile on your lips. He wiped the sweat from his brow, raising his right arm until you could see the faded ink of the tattoo on his inner bicep, exposed by the black sleeveless button-up shirt he wore, with the little loose threads from where he’d cut it still dangling from the torn fabric. 

Now your eyes were glued to that spot, where the taut, lean muscles under his tanned, sweat-shined skin flexed and twitched with each movement as he attempted to wipe the grease from his hands. That poor rag had seen so much―grease, sweat, blood, dirt… You’d tried to get him to use something a little less worn, but he always came back to that old rag. He was stubborn about those kinds of things, or maybe it wasn’t so much stubbornness as sentimentality. It was one of the things you loved about him.

Kneeling as he shook his hair from his face, a few sweaty strands still sticking, he huffed another deep breath. Thank God he was so intently focused on his bike, lest he notice your lack of… attention. Well, you were paying attention, but not to the bike. 

When you said you wanted to help him replace the chain on his motorcycle, you did not anticipate he would give you a step-by-step tutorial on the matter. But that was just him, your Daryl―he had a few things he was particularly interested in, and one of them was mechanics. He’d always be the first to volunteer to prepare the cars for the runs, and he was good at it. It came naturally to him, you always knew that. He once told you that he liked to put things back together again, to fit parts together like puzzle pieces. It only made sense that he would build his own bike, and fix it himself. After all, it was hard to find a professional mechanic these days. 

You didn’t mind. Though you had to admit that you weren’t terribly engrossed, you found it quite endearing, his passion as he narrated each movement of his hands, each part of the bike, each tool he used so skillfully. He was always so good with his hands, those deft, yet thick and heavy, fingers. You knew those fingers quite well, quite intimately… 

If only he’d stop fiddling with that hunk of metal and start putting those strong, nimble hands to better use.

“See this nut here?” 

He gestured to a metal protrusion nestled amongst the gears near the back wheel. Though you lacked the knowledge of what a nut was in this context, you nodded with a small, “Mhm.”

“That’s the axle nut. Gotta loosen it, then unscrew this bolt.” He did the actions slowly, careful not to move too quick lest you lose track of him, but it was of no consequence, anyway, because all you could look at were the flexing tendons in his hands, and the bulging squiggles of veins that protruded beneath grease-stained skin. Those little rivers led up into his forearm, where defined muscles tightened and twitched as he clenched his jaw, a few grunts slipping between his tightened lips. He turned the wrench on the axle nut, loosening it with each movement. 

When he’d unscrewed the bolt, he relieved the tension by pushing the back wheel forward, loosening the chain until he could get a grip on the master link that kept the old linking metal pieces together. 

Now admiring the glistening sweat that gave shine to the chest that was exposed by the buttons undone near the neck of his shirt, you did not notice his eyes on you, watching you with a furrowed brow as he spoke.

“Can ya hand me those pliers, hon?”

His voice seemed to shake you awake with almost a startle. In a slight haze, you only blinked at him, your lips quivering without your own awareness, your mind drawing a blank as his sudden attention had hit a reset button on the back of your head. Rebooting, you took a few moments to catch up to speed, but even then, you had become lost in a gaze of ocean blue. 

“What?”

Daryl lifted his chin to nod towards somewhere close behind you, though even your own surroundings were a mystery to you. 

“Can ya gimme those pliers, right behind ya.”

“Oh.” 

You turned swiftly, as if taking your eyes off him for a moment would free you from your stupor. It did not. 

But at least you could locate the tool―nestled atop the other gadgets and gizmos scattered inside the toolbox behind you. 

“These?” You held the red handled tool out for him to see. 

He looked up from the chain that he fiddled with in his grease-stained fingers. “Yeah, that’s it.” He took the pliers to remove the master link from the chain, finally freeing it from the bike. “A’right,” he huffed with a slight satisfaction in his voice. “Now you see this thing ‘ere?”

Leaning forward, you focused your sight on where he was pointing—the long metal rod near the drum brake. “Mhm.”

“We’re gonna take that apart next.”

With the brake assembly dismantled, you watched as he removed the back wheel from the bike, carrying it to his workbench while you dutifully followed, entranced by his confident sway. There weren’t many things Daryl was secure about, but when it came to mechanics, he was assured of himself. In fact, he may have gotten a little cocky, having noticed that each time he instructed you on a new step, you responded either with an absent-minded hum or a dazed stare at his biceps. 

After he replaced the sprocket, much to your confusion with each procedure he explained, he replaced the wheel on the bike, this time adding on the new chain. 

And as he tightened the chain, he cranked the wrench on the locking nut, securing it into place. Again, his arms flexed with mesmerizing strength, the intrigue of which was only matched by the muscles bulging in his neck, the low grunts and redness that pooled in his cheek. It was all too familiar, the way his body moved and the way his muscles contorted in the strain of the activity. 

Though you desperately wanted to squeeze your thighs together, just to momentarily relieve a bit of tension between them, you could only sit still as you watched him, now totally unable to hear a word of what he was saying, despite your admiration for his passion.

But the longer you seemed to be in a distracted state of stupor, your mouth nearly hanging open enough to start drooling, the more he caught onto your lack of attention for the bike, and your excessive attention for him.

“Now… Don’t wanna screw this too tight, it’ll wear out faster, then I’d have to change this chain again. But ya want it just tight enough, and not too loose.”

If you’d been able to concentrate at all on what he said, you might’ve blushed.

But all you could do was watch his fingers work, nimble movements reminding you of how those calloused fingers would tickle your skin in your intimate moments, how he knew just how to touch you and make you shiver until that shiver became a deep, penetrating chill of pleasure. 

He’d always had that effect on you, even in the most innocuous moments. How could this man affect you like this, send a shiver down your spine, without even touching you? Not only that, but he was working on his bike, trying to educate you, and yet, you were still thinking about his filthy, grease-stained hands leaving prints all over your body.

And when he cleared his throat, you were back again, only with no clue what Daryl had just said. All you knew was he seemed to know what he was talking about, based on the assuredness in his voice. 

In a slight panic that you’d missed something important, you replied—“Mm… That’s nice, sweetie.”

His eyebrow arched in slight amusement, your words and the dreamy lull in your voice having confirmed his suspicion—you weren’t paying attention at all. 

Now he looked you in the eye, keeping your gaze with his intense stare, only weakened by a glint of playfulness, with a sparkle of mischief. There was an upward lift to one side of his mouth as he spoke, a smirk so charming that you found your breath getting caught in your chest.

“You payin’ attention?” he asked, though not with any kind of disappointment. 

Back straightening, you nodded as you hummed. “Mhm.”

The man narrowed his eyes at you, studying you with amused suspicion. “What’d I jus’ say?”

You sank a little, your posture weakening as you cleared your throat, buying time to keep you from admitting that you were less interested in the mechanics of his bike, and more interested in the mechanics of his arms.

“Well, uh… You were talking about…”

There was a shakiness to your voice as you lowered your head, focusing on your fingers which fiddled with each other in your lap. With your eyes averted, and your brain being ramped suddenly into third gear, you hadn’t noticed that Daryl scooted closer across the cold concrete, his own focus having separated from his beloved motorcycle completely.

“Hey,” he said, and from the mere vibration of his voice, traveling through the small space of air that existed now between you, you knew to look up at him, as if he had commanded it. And to you, he did.

When you looked up, he broke into a bigger smile, with a flash of faded white from the bottom edges of his teeth, the same ones that had left faint marks on your neck many times before. 

It was your innocence that amused him, made him huff a small laugh under his breath. You matched his laugh with your own nervous one, though you knew not why he made you so anxious, after so long of being his. Well, maybe he just had that effect on you, and maybe he always would. 

You knew he always would.

“You ain’t payin’ attention, are ya?”

Now, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of his stained, greasy hand, raising to grasp at your chin. His touch was soft, yet deliberate. He knew. Daryl was always observant, after all. Besides, you’d unintentionally made it rather obvious. 

When you failed to answer him, he narrowed his gaze again, just enough so he could hone in on your lips. They quivered now, just like they always did for him. He liked it—how your body reacted to his touch. It was always so predictable, so safe. Everything about you was, and he knew you so well now, that he had no problem making sure you answered him.

“Are ya, sweetheart?”

The very quiet, nearly undetectable whimper that slipped subconsciously from your lips could’ve gone unnoticed if he weren’t so attentive to your every action, but he was, and he heard it. How easily you crumbled for him, and how perfect your mouth looked—split open and plump, wet and aching. 

“No… I…” His fingers rubbed the curve of your jaw as he held your chin with more pressure, as if to punish you with the most affectionate touch. “Sorry.”

But the word went without reply as his grip pulled you forward. No movement on his part other than that pull, bringing you to him, your lips softly connecting as a sigh got caught between wet flesh, your mouth was forced open just enough by his tongue. 

The kiss was ended much too abruptly for your liking, though he punctuated it with small bursts of pecks upon your still quivering lips. On his own lips, a cocky smirk, taunting you. Rarely did Daryl tease you quite like this, though he could never pass up the opportunity. 

“S’all right.” He was still close enough for the vibration of his gruff voice to tickle you. “Long as you just sit there lookin’ all pretty for me.”

Just like that, you melted again, your head only propped up by his hand still caressing your chin. 

“Okay.” The word came out in a dreamy giggle, of which you may have been embarrassed if he hadn’t broken out into his own little snicker. 

It took him a few drawn out moments to peel himself from you, intent on finishing replacing the chain before his recruiting trip tomorrow, but eventually, reluctantly, he removed his hand, your chin now blotched with his oily fingerprints. 

Another huff of laughter escaped from his smirking lips, to which you tilted your head in confusion. 

Loosely, he gestured to his own chin. “Ya got a lil somethin’.”

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

[cartersblogabtnothing]

my friend and i were talking about plushies, so i had a thought about what kind of toys the bat boys would own:

bruce grew up being raised by alfred, who was a proper british man (probably idk) so i think he’d play with weird model trains and planes for no reason. thomas probably got him started on it, and it was probably one of the only things bruce and alfred really connected on. he still has them scattered around the cave or the house, but the kids assume they’re thomas’ and not bruce’s.

dick was a circus boy, so i’m a firm believer in the fact that he’d own homemade plushies or claw machine plushies and toys. cheap but durable, all of them are stained and disgusting but he keeps them around because they remind him of his mom and his dad. now, as an adult, he collects figurines. like funko pop’s! he has a collection in his main safe house in ‘haven and sometimes wally drops in to add a new one for fun.

jason didn’t have much growing up, so whatever he did have was dirty and falling apart because his father got it from the trash or it was found in some bag from the thrift store or a donation center. he specifically liked warhammer and dnd, they were cheap and no kid really liked either of them so he got new figurines and rulebooks to learn. he still has them to this day, but they’re just for display. he doesn’t collect any other toys outside of the ones the kids in the Alley give him, which he loves and adores just as much.

tim had everything growing up, being the kid of two archeologists with endless money would do that to a person. so, he grew up with the latest figurine or toy car or hammer — typical “boy” stuff his parents swore up and down their kid loved, even when he didn’t. he preferred the weird looking plushies he’d get from his nannie’s or drivers, he’d name them and give them genders and sometimes he’d talk to them and pretended they talked back to feel a little less alone. he still has the collection, and he still talks to them and remembers their names and genders he made up. sometimes he adds to the collection, sometimes he shares them. he loves his stuffies like he’d love his own child — like his parents should’ve loved him, but failed to.

(alternatively, i also think he’d get awful lego sets and spend hours taking them apart just to put them back together. it kept his brain and hands occupied so he couldn’t think about how alone he truly was.)

damian wasn’t allowed trivial things such as toys while under his grandfather’s thumb, let alone something of comfort like a stuffed animal or whatever it is drake keeps so close to his chest. the only toys damian was allowed were voodoo dolls that he still isn’t 100% sure were faulty or not. after moving in with his father, he was given more leeway with the things he enjoyed in his leisure time. he still thought toys were ridiculous, but after jon had won him an ugly looking unicorn stuffed animal… damian… opened up to the possibility of toys. he began collecting a very small amount of them, discreetly of course. then he found out about justice league action figures, and began collecting them too. discreetly. he couldn’t let the rest of the family know. that would be mortifying.

(they all know, but they’re far too scared of the possibility that damian might get rid of his toys if they mention it. he deserves to be a child for once and if that meant keeping their mouths shut, so be it.)

duke grew up on “the wrong side of the tracks” but his family wasn’t dirt poor. sometimes he got new toys when he didn’t need a new pair of shoes or his hair redone, but most of the time they were hand me downs or dirty action figures he found in Goodwill or sketchy thrift stores. he didn’t keep any of them, mainly because they fell apart within the year, but also because they were bittersweet to look at after what happened to his parents. now he prefers to collect things like merchandise rather than toys. things like shirts or keychains or posters. he has one or two mini figurines, but he doesn’t keep them on display. they’re just there. posters and stickers are his personal favorite because they’re not permanent, they can be moved and stuck around wherever he wished. he liked that. the control it gave him.

(the control he lacked over his parents, over what the joker did.)

[the-karma-cafe]

Alll My Moneh | Arthur Morgan

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

based on Arthur's silly drunk line "I lost allllll my money... can I ... have *yours* laydey ?" yes arthur my babygirl you can have all of it

also fun hannibal reference cause i llove

“Bye Ernie!” I called over my shoulder. The man behind the bar smiled and waved as I left the saloon, the doors swinging shut behind me. I brushed my hands off on my dress and stepped down the first couple of steps, eager to head home and away from the drunkards of Valentine. The job was fun, sure, but more often than not-

“I lost allll my money...” A sad voice called out to me from the street.

I glanced over, confused. The man in the dirt street stared at me through unfocused eyes, his stance crumpled and wobbly. He seemed to be searching for something to lean on.

“Can…” he hiccuped, “Can I have yours… laadyy?” his southern drawl lengthened the word.

Despite having dealt with drunk men all evening, I smiled, tilting my head to the side. “You alright sweetie?” He looked like a lost puppy, and, unlike the other patrons of the saloon, he wasn’t saying anything untoward.

The man gave a dopey grin upon hearing my voice, stumbling forward. “M’yeah.” 

I paused, glancing around the street. He didn’t seem to have any buddies with him. I stepped towards him, my hands out and ready to catch him if he suddenly pitched forward. “Hope you don’t mind my sayin’, but you don’t look it.” I pursed my lips. “Where’re your friends, baby?” 

He shrugged and almost fell into me before catching himself a foot away. “Camp.” 

I furrowed my brow in worry. I couldn’t in good conscience let this poor drunken fool wander around the street at night—he was sure to get robbed. “You wanna tell me where that is so we can get you home, cowboy?” I gently touched his arm and he leaned towards the feeling, eyes closing and opening at random intervals. He nodded mutely. 

I went to guide him over to my horse before he wobbled out of my light hold and back into the street, shaking his head. “No! Nooo.... No I don’ wanna go to camp.”

I sighed. “You’ve gotta go somewhere, darlin’.” 

He tried to focus his eyes on my form. “Why you..” he shook his head, planting his feet. “Why d’you care?”

I gave him a pitying look. “I don’t know, mister, but just let me help.” I searched around the street, my eyes lighting on the hotel. I looked back at him, hoping my expression was as comforting and gentle as possible. “You want a room in the hotel instead?”

He eyed me for a beat, suspicious, before nodding and humming in acquiescence.

I held out my hand to stabilize him and he grabbed it instead. I blinked down at our intertwined hands. Not exactly what I had intended, but not… unwelcome. He was closer now, and I could see that he wasn’t like the drunkards I was used to. Much more handsome, and so far, much nicer as well. 

Before he could question why we hadn’t started moving, I guided him towards the hotel, fortunately only a couple doors down, and helped him up the steps and inside. 

The receptionist welcomed us in, noting our joined hands. He smiled knowingly. “Not too loud, now.” He joked. I flushed, stammering out an excuse about how that was not what it was like at all, before paying for and receiving a room key. 

The man with me kept his eyes on me the whole way up the stairs, making no move to help me get him up there. I huffed. He wasn’t a small man. 

We reached the top of the stairs and I dragged him into his room, closing the door behind us. “Alright, mister, let’s get you situated.” His weight was fully on my side and I had to remove my hand from his grip (notably difficult) and wrap my arm around him to keep him upright. I grunted, working my way towards the bed.

He turned and I felt a cool rush of air on my head. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you- Are you sniffing me??” 

He coughed, whipping his head away. “D’fficult to avoid.”

I chuckled good-naturedly. “Hope it was everything you dreamed of.”

I pushed him onto the bed and he flopped over, immediately snuggling into it. I straightened up and exhaled, looking down at him. He looked… cute, like this. He was almost like a child, fisting the blankets and tucking his legs up near his torso. I shook my head, breaking that line of thought. This was silly.

Good deed for the day done, I placed the key on his nightstand and turned to leave. 

“Wait!” A warm weight held my wrist. I turned back to find him looking up at me from the edge of the bed with the sweetest pair of puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. “Please stay.” He mumbled, like he didn’t want to say it, and definitely would not have if he hadn’t been in such a state. 

I tore my eyes away, looking at the ground. I didn’t know this man. It was enough of a risk just to take him up here—it was even more to stay and sleep here. 

His grip loosened, sensing my indecision. “I understand.” he nodded, not looking at me. “‘M scary.” 

My heart warmed. He was so cute. I reached out and cupped his cheek, guiding him to look at me. He leaned into my hand, eyes closed. “You are so sweet.” I cooed, brushing my thumb back and forth. 

He snorted, eyes opening. “‘M not.” His gaze wandered over my face. Heat rose to my cheeks, not expecting his eyes to hold such warmth and reverence in them. He reached out, his hand aiming for my face but falling and holding my arm instead. His palm was warm. “Yer gorgeous.” The heat in my cheeks flared, painting them a bright red. 

I knew I shouldn’t. 

But he was so sweet... despite his burly appearance, he seemed like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

I sighed and moved my hand from his cheek to run through his hair. He hummed happily, his head nodding forward slightly. “You want me to stay?” He looked up, eyes hopeful.

“Yes.” he breathed. His hand dragged down my arm, shifting and stopping at my hip. My breath hitched. “Please?”

I ignored the warmth seeping into my body from my hip, smiling at him kindly. “How could I say no to that face?” My hand at his neck brought his head closer to me. I heard him hiccup. I pecked the top of his head and ruffled his hair, pushing away from him. 

His hand fell from me limply, his eyes never leaving me as I rounded the bed, shedding my bag and shoes. I contemplated taking off my dress. I had undergarments on but… no, I’d be fine sleeping in my dress. I crawled into the other side of the bed, heaving an exhausted sigh at finally being able to lay down. 

It was quiet in the room, for a couple of minutes. I faced the ceiling, but felt his gaze on me. I turned. His face still held that reverent look. I blushed, unable to fight the smile twisting my lips. “You should get some sleep, sweetheart. That headache when you wake up’ll kill.”

He nodded, slumping over onto his side, facing me. I mirrored his posture, facing him. His eyes wandered all over, but never strayed from my face, despite this being one of my lower-cut dresses. My heart fluttered.  “What’s your name?” I whispered.

His face twitched. “Arthur.”

“Like the king?”

Arthur huffed a laugh. “What’s your name?” He asked instead, just as quiet. I told him. He smiled dreamily. “’S pretty. Suits you.” 

“Thank you, Arthur.” His smile grew hearing his name. “Though I can’t say you’re very kingly presently.” I teased.

He didn’t answer, instead reaching out, brushing hair from my face. I faltered, flustered at how gentle he was. Did he even hear me? His gaze dropped to my lips. “Can I kiss you?” 

I blinked in surprise, searching his face. He pulled his hand back, dragging it over his face and groaning. “Ohh, I’m a fool.” He rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his hand. 

I wanted to kiss him. I was surprising myself left and right today.

I reached out and touched his shoulder, pushing myself up onto my elbow. He shifted his hand to look at me with one eye. I forced myself to hold his gaze, feeling silly. “You can, Arthur, if you’d like.” 

Arthur dropped his hand. “Would you like?” I nodded.

He moved slowly, like he didn’t want to scare me off. He turned, moving his hand to cup my cheek. I tilted my head up, feeling my stomach flip nervously. He stopped, lips brushing against mine. 

Slowly, I pressed into them.

He groaned into my mouth, his hand moving towards my neck to bring me closer. I sighed happily, moving my hand to his chest. I wanted to explore further, feeling him up and down, but kept myself in check. Kissing was one thing, but... I didn’t want him to do something he would regret. He moved against me, trying to get impossibly closer.

I internally scolded myself. No further than this. I softly, regretfully, pushed against his chest, parting from him. He whimpered at the loss of contact, looking at me with sad eyes. I shook my head. "You're drunk, Arthur."

He frowned. "So?" His hand slid down from my neck, rubbing against my waist. He tugged a little, experimentally. His hand felt hot on my side, pressing me into the mattress. 

I bit my lip. "'S not right, cowboy, you know that." I poked his chest weakly. "If it was me you found out on the street like that, you wouldn't." 

He avoided my gaze. "Wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." I whispered, smoothing my hand over his chest. "I don't think you would, though." I didn't know why I was so sure. There was something about him.

He grunted, pushing into me and nuzzling his head into my neck. I made a noise of surprise, falling onto my back. "You don' know me." His lips tickled my neck as he spoke. 

I smiled, reaching my hands up to tangle in his hair. No, I did not know him, but I sure wanted to after tonight. He relaxed against my touch, almost crushing me under his weight. I didn't mind. I kissed his head, smoothing my hand down to rub circles on his back. Within minutes he was passed out, snoring softly. 

I debated leaving, but he had wormed his arms around me, snuggled in to my chest so cutely that I couldn't. I sighed, shifting my head on the pillow. The hotel was closer to the saloon than my house, anyway. This just made it easier to clock in come morning. (A flimsy excuse, but enough.)

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (Part Seven)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content (Part 7): Miguel is rutting, reader is in heat, cock warming, rough biting/claiming bites, PinV sex, possessive sex, breeding kink, creampie & pullout marking, aftercare.

You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Now you're his mate, trapped in a dizzying heat that only he can fix, trying to hide your relationship from your suspicious superiors. What could go wrong? Word count: 3040

The clarity you’d gained was an overwhelming comfort as you hurried back through the woods. With the baby issue sorted you knew now that you weren’t just using Mig, nor were you a depraved servant to your own body. You liked him, you wanted him, and that desire went right down to your core.  

You stumbled through the glade towards his nest where you found a long, thick, string of web leading from the floor to the entrance. You dropped your bags in the dirt and grappled onto the sticky web so you could hoist yourself up.

‘Mig! Are you—’

A low, agonised moan filled the air. You paused with your hand on the entrance.

‘Mig? Mig, are you—’

Another moan, another whine. You felt your blood run cold. Your panic drove you to rush through the entrance. ‘Mig! What—’

Miguel wasn’t hurt like you’d feared. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

He was bent over the bed, furiously rubbing his erect phallus against the mattress. His face was buried in the silk sheet he’d made to cover you at night, the one thing in the house still saturated with your scent, your musk, your pheromones. He’d clearly already cum at least twice but it had offered no relief.

You felt your own ache triple over in your gut, a pull so hard that it made you choke on your own spit. You could see the sweat beading on his perfectly muscled back, the flash of his fangs as he panted. It was a beautiful sight. Slowly, you approached.

‘Mig.’

He looked up at the sound of your voice. His face was that of a desperate animal, with narrowed bloody red eyes and bared teeth. He was panting, heaving, his muscles tensed to the point that they bulged. You met his gaze without fear.

‘Sweet boy’ you whispered. His eyelids slowly drooped.

‘Poor thing.’

You bent down to your knees and slid your hand beneath his abdomen, gently grasping his cock. He groaned as you did, his mouth falling agape as venom squirted and pooled from his fangs. You saw goosebumps go up his arms from the sheer intensity of your touch.

‘I’m here now, let me help’ you soothed.

You began to tenderly stroke his shaft, using the copious pre-cum as lubricant to help slide your fist back and forth. You couldn’t fit your whole fist around it but you felt him throb with pleasure in response to your touch.

‘Mi tesoro’ he whined. He put his head in your neck and breathed deep. 

‘My Mig.’ You whispered it earnestly as you let him affectionately nibble on your neck.

‘You came back’ he breathed. He sounded euphoric, almost dreamlike, as if he was waiting to be woken from a wet dream. You squeezed his shaft until he gasped, a little pain to wake him back up. When his eyes opened you kissed his lower lip.

‘I was barely gone a few hours, you silly thing. You got yourself so wound up.’

You bumped foreheads and pressed in close as you continued to stroke him, with his abdomen now arching to gently pump into your closed fist.

‘Mi Tesoro. I can’t- stand it—’

‘No, I know. I can’t either’ you whined back.

His hands moved on their own, sliding up your thighs to your clothed cunt. His claws brushed the wet fabric where your slick had gushed out on the run here.

‘Mi arañita’ he gasped. ‘I… I must mate with you, please.’

‘Please’ you whispered back. ‘Please, yes.’

He leaned in and breathed in deep at your shoulder. You closed your eyes and sighed, expecting to feel his lips once more, but for some reason his touch faltered.

When you opened your eyes, Miguel was rigid with rage. His face was utterly contorted, his eyes now completely red with just two little white pupils. You blanched.

‘M-Mig?’

‘You… smell like him’ he seethed.

You jumped as his claws extended, falling onto your back.

‘Mig, wait, I didn’t— I don’t understand, what do you mean I smell like him?’

He was crawling over your fallen body, forcing your body to the ground. You realized, up close, just how big his fangs were. You’d never, ever seen him like this before.

‘Are you still sealed?’ he hissed. You felt his fingers pushing on your cunt, feeling for it, and involuntarily moaned.

‘Y-Yes, yes.’

Even through the fabric he could feel the thick webbing covering up your entrance. He briefly pushed his head between your thighs, sensing your smell there, before returning to leer over your body. No, you were definitely still sealed. You still smelled of his seed. His good arañita was being truthful.

‘I can smell it. You smell like them. You smell like him’ he repeated. ‘Why?’

You thought back to Miguel grabbing you, his hand holding you against the wall. Shit, you thought, that’s what he can smell. ‘He- Yeah, I-- I was in the HQ, and he grabbed me to ask where I went. I pulled away and left. That’s it. I promise. I promise.’

You watched as Miguel’s brows knotted, his face lined with an anger you’d never seen before. He looked furious. ‘Ese cabrón’ he hissed under his breath. ‘I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.’

At this point you were whining, physically shifting to ease the ache of the heat. You didn’t want to admit it, but his possessive behaviour was making it so much worse. Your unsatisfied lust was agony. ‘Mig, I— please, fuck, it hurts—I need you—’

‘Take them off.’

‘W-What?’

‘Your clothes. Off. Now’ he ordered. As your insides pulsed you hurried to obey, desperately stripping every piece of clothing aside.

The moment you were naked he mounted you from behind, with one hand on your back and the other pinning your wrists above your head. You felt his hot breath on your nape and mewled pathetically. God, your body was on fire.

‘I need to make sure- mm- that I teach him a lesson’ he purred. His weight was making it hard to breath.

 ‘Mig’ you whined. ‘I—’

In a flash his teeth sank into your neck, and your breath was stolen from you.

‘Mmf- mmf—’

He let out a muffled groan as he bit you. His rapid breath hit your nape as he bit on you like a cat holding a kitten, surrendering your body to a hard mating press from behind.

You could feel his teeth as they moved beneath the skin. It only stung a little, as his venom helped to numb the bite, but what you most certainly felt was the awe-inspiring power of your monster as he clamped you in his jaws.

He kept you held down as he mounted your back. You felt his hardened phallus starting to pump between your legs even while you were still sealed.

‘M-Mig, fuck, let- let me—’

He didn’t even seem to hear you. He was feral right now. You were forced to awkwardly wriggle your hand from his grip and maneuver it beneath your belly to try and pry the seal away.

His cock kept impatiently pushing on your hand, and the copious pre-cum he was leaking kept causing you to slip, but eventually you managed to rip the seal aside. The second it was gone he impaled you.

‘MM—’

You wheezed as he spread you, as he strained your muscles to breaking point. He quickly re-pinned both of your wrists back in place.

Inch by inch he slid inside, stretching and filling until you could feel nothing else. You felt his veins pulsing against your insides as your cunt clenched.

Miguel released you from his bite just to hiss. ‘Mine’ he seethed. He bucked once, hard, to prove his point, and you melted as hot pain seared through your core. You pushed back against him.

‘Fuck- fuck, that’s it Mig, mm- thank you—’

‘Mine.’ He repeated it against your neck.

‘Yours’ you whimpered. You felt his fangs nipping at your neck, threatening to bite you again as he continued his slow probing of your sore cunt. His cunt.

‘Mine.’

‘Y-Yours.’

‘Mine.’

He pumped inside you slowly, in a way designed to stretch. He was moulding you, fitting you to him, driving his genetic mark into every inch of your insides. You screamed for him with each thrust. Every toe-curling slip into those tight walls, each squelch of a retraction that softened the bulge in your belly, it was enough to make you shake.

Those pretty little tears covered your lashes once more.

‘Good.’

His low, gravelly voice turned husky as he started to move in you, as he sensed the way you clenched and whined for him. He wanted you to beg. He wanted you to plead. He wanted you to surrender everything.  

‘Good. Good. That’s it. Good.’

Your toes involuntarily curled as he started to pulse his abdomen back and forth. It was outrageously wet, outrageously sensitive, as each slip made your legs tremble.

‘Mig’ you whined. He grunted above you.

He started to get faster. You could feel the pressure of the mattress against your belly as he forced you into it, mercilessly pounding your body into submission. His fuzz was rough on your naked rear, and his forelegs were digging into your waist as he held you taught.

You could feel his black fur getting wet as your slick squirted out. He didn’t care.

‘Good arañita, just like that. Let me breed you’ he hissed.

God he was so warm inside you. Even when rough the feel was euphoric, slowly fucking away that unbearable ache.

‘Mig’ you whined a second time. He panted on your neck until you started to sweat from the heat.

‘Do you want my babies?’ he purred, bending down to whisper it in your ear. The weight of his body was suffocating as he fucked you into a mewling mess.

‘You want my offspring, arañita? Do you want me to impregnate you?’

‘Y-Yes’ you cried, right as he began to bully your cervix. You could feel every inch of him as he started to hump to completion, and he was fucking away all of your inhibitions.

‘You’ll be mine?’

‘Yes—’

‘You want only me?’

‘Y-Yes—’

‘You want me?’

‘Yes!’

One of his lower spider legs had slipped beneath your belly and was starting to brush your swollen clit, pushing you to cum. He was grunting hard with each thrust.

‘You—mm—Are—mm—My—mm—Mate!’ he groaned, emphasising each word with another thrust. You squirmed and moaned his name in brainless ecstasy.

‘I won’t let- anyone- touch you like that again. If you want me, you are- mine.’

Right on the word ‘mine’, you orgasmed. You could barely breath as he crushed your shaking body beneath him.

‘F-FUCK- MIG—’

He uttered one more word right as his body tipped, unable to hold back anymore.

‘Mine.’

He practically growled when he came, his groan turned savage by his own hormones, and you whined as you felt him fill you again.

He let three or four thick spurts fill your cunt, allowing you to relish in how the warmth and wetness felt weighing inside you, but after the first four he retracted his shaft and dropped it hard onto your ass. He pumped the rest onto your back.

It was hot against your skin and thick enough that it barely slid or dripped, coating your spine in those heavy ropes of white seed.

You whimpered as he put a hand on your neck to keep you still until he was done rubbing himself out against your rear. He pumped himself dry and then collapsed.

‘Ah… that’s it’ he panted. ‘That’s- that’s it. Now you’ll smell like me again.’

As the heat dissipated you both lulled. He bent down to kiss and lick clean the bite marks on your nape. ‘Thank you’ he whispered into your hair, ‘thank you, thank you. Are you okay, arañita?’

‘M-Mhm.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. Ah- fuck, I am- more than okay’ you panted. You turned to give him a shaky, dumb looking smile. He didn’t smile back, but the affection in his wide red eyes as enough. Miguel slowly rose up and began weaving a new sheet in order to clean your back.

The cold, fresh silk was a comfort on your skin as he pressed it against you. He noted the way you squirmed for it. He didn’t say a thing, but he found it incredibly endearing.

‘There. You’re done’ he said, alerting you to the fact that you were clean. He threw the sheet aside and gently scratched at your scalp. ‘Mi arañita. I am- glad, to have you back.’

You nestled your head into his hand, a hand so large it could almost cover your entire skull.

‘I’m glad to be back. I- hated being out there.’

He grunted at that. He seemed pleased. ‘I- in truth, I wasn’t sure you would come back. I was, afraid. I don’t like that I doubted you, but, I feel I ought to say it.’

As he finished his soft confession you reached up, using one hand to hold his claws against your head. You nestled upward until your cheek was in his palm.

‘I was- scared’ you admitted in a whisper. ‘But not of you. I always wanted to come back. And I did.’

You felt Mig’s hand tighten on your cheek. He squished you, once, a sign of his affection, and you relished in it.

However, as he withdrew, you paused.

‘Mig.’

‘Yes?’

‘I… I-I, took, birth control.’

A brief moment of silence followed. You had no idea what Miguel would say. In the dim light you couldn’t tell what the lines in his face were from. Anger? Sadness? Disappointment? Relief, maybe?

You waited in that agonising tension for an answer.

‘Okay.’

Blunt as always, Miguel offered you only that word as confirmation that he’d heard you. With great care he lifted your body bridal style into his arms and shifted you into a dry spot on the mattress, quickly covering you with a blanket. When you looked up at his face it was soft.

‘Mig, I—’

‘Do you still want me?’

Your mouth gaped at the abrupt question. ‘I- Yeah, of course. I- literally just had sex with you again, but, I’ll happily say it out loud too.’

Miguel grunted. He didn’t say anything else, but he seemed pleased.

You watched as he wordlessly crawled onto the bed and settled down beside you, offering his thick fluffy legs as warmth. You nestled against his abdomen just as you had before.

‘Mig? Are you okay?’

‘Do you still want me?’

He repeated the question so softly, barely a whisper on his rough lips. You, again, nodded.

‘Yes. I do.’

‘Then I am content.’

‘Are you, sure?’

Miguel let out a soft grunt of a chuckle as he pulled you in close. He looked happy, yes, but in a deeply melancholic way. ‘I know what I am, arañita. I’m not stupid. The rut made me… desire things I know I’m not fit for, and that’s not your fault. I’m not a good fit to- father, anything. I’m truly just glad you came back, mi tesoro. Really.’

‘Oh—wait, Mig- no, no no! No- Mig that’s not why.’

He glanced down at your stammered response in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

You sighed and put a hand to his bare stomach. ‘Migs, jesus- it’s nothing to do with what you are. It’s- you know, it’s the fact its incredibly sudden. I’m just not- ready.’

The way his eyes widened was unbearably sweet. Bit by bit his face lost a little of that stoic resignation. ‘So… so, you would let me reproduce with you?’ he murmured. You gave a little shrug.  

‘I mean, your physiology doesn’t scare me, if that’s what you mean. That’s not the problem.’

‘Just… You would need, different circumstances?’

‘Right, at least- I think so. I mean I still think its- enjoyable, like the idea of you breeding me. It’s just- it’s a little, sudden, right now. That’s all. Is that okay with you?’

The way his eyes softened as he pulled you in made you a little giddy. You felt his body bristling as those few simple words caught alight in his chest, gradually starting to burn away a lifetimes weight of self-loathing and loneliness.

‘There will be other heats’ he said gently. ‘Many other heats. Many other chances. Other chances when you are, more comfortable. When you are ready for it. Is that, okay with you?’

You breathed out hard through the nose. Thank god, he was fine with it. ‘Right. Yeah. Yeah, it is. Thanks, Mig.’  

He allowed a small smile to cross his face. ‘Good. Until then, I will just consider this… marking.’

‘Marking?’

You shuddered as his leg suddenly split yours apart, forcing you to look down at your bare form. You saw his webbing on your vulva, your sex still raw and throbbing. He jostled you so that you felt his ejaculate squishing inside you.

‘Marking’ he repeated. ‘Marking you as my mate, for- future purposes.’

You flushed deeply, your face glowing.

‘Is- is that a, spider thing?’

‘Spiders are like humans, actually. They are one of the few species where they can choose. They can choose to keep trying for mates, hoping they don’t get eaten, or- they can choose to defend one mate to their dying breath.’

His legs tightened around you, pulling you in close. He released a contended sigh.

‘I am simply making my choice.’

‘Oh… well, I- guess I’m making my choice too.’

In that sweet isolation, just the two of you at last, you snuggled your head against his belly. His abs were soft and squishy on your cheek.

‘Mm… such a handsome spider.’

Your words were muffled by his skin, but they still managed to coax a smile from him. Mig let out a long breath through the nose, his version of a chuckle, as he tenderly cupped your head. You shifted so you could kiss his palm.

‘Qué chula’ he breathed. ‘Mi hermosa arañita. Thank you.'  link to next part

[pekoehoneyncream]

Gaz and Soap Learn to Cartwheel

Words: 1200~

TW: None (sfw)

Feat: Ghost, Gaz, & Soap

More prompt writing from randomly generated prompts. This time the prompt was 'Gymnastics'. Again written from a Ghost centric pov. I picture his internal monologue as being super sassy and I love writing all his acerbic little quips.

Ghost exited the rear base doors only to have his well-earned smoke break derailed by the sight of the impromptu circus auditions his teammates were apparently participating in. Gaz and Johnny had somehow been suckered into learning how to cartwheel by one of the base’s Privates. 

Taking another look at the cavalcade of failures that was happening on the base’s back lawn, Ghost reconsidered. Gaz and Johnny had somehow suckered a Private into teaching them how to cartwheel. 

There wasn’t much cartwheeling actually happening, other than when either of the two chuckle-fucks whinged and demanded that the Private showed them again. The Private, Ghost studied her hard for a moment, trying to dredge her name up from the mass of new recruits that were constantly revolving through the base. He was pretty sure it was Fallur, or something like that. It definitely started with a ‘Fal’... Or was it a Val, Vallur? Private Vallur? No, no, it was definitely Fallur. 

A particularly loud thump drew Ghost’s attention away from his thoughts. He focused up to see Johnny laying face down, making a noise that might have been a groan in another life. A life where Johnny hadn't just belly-flopped into the dirt and knocked all the air out of his lungs. Gaz was also having trouble breathing, bent double by the force of his laughter.

“I said to guide his feet, not try to push him through it.” Private Fallur’s voice was muffled by the hands she was rubbing over her face. 

Ghost took in the many grass stains and smears of dirt that covered his Sergeants’ clothes and deduced that they’d been attempting this for far longer than any sane adult would bother troubling themself with, especially for such a useless skill. If it had been just Johnny or just Gaz on their own, they probably would have called it quits by now, but both of his idiots were so goddamn competitive that they were just egging each other on. Both determined to be the first to do it right. 

“Once more, ah nearly have it noo, show us again woul’ ye, Falsvur?” Johnny had pulled himself to his feet, dusted himself off, and was now making his Puppydog eyes at the poor Private.

Falsvur! That was it! He’d been close, he knew it was ‘Fal’ something. 

Falsvur drew in a deep breath, letting it move her shoulders and expand her ribs, holding it for a long calming moment, then letting it out in a long resigned sigh. 

“Fine,” she agreed, “but only one more time, I’m not missing dinner.” She pointed a stern finger at the Sergeants, who were smiling and nodding at her like grateful bobbleheads. 

Falsvur straightened up, stared down the lawn for a moment, then took a quick step, threw her arms up, and tossed herself forward into a -from what Ghost could tell- impeccable cartwheel. Straight arms, straight legs, strong core, solid landing, no noodleish flopping or eating dirt. 

If Ghost was the judge he’d give her a ten. 

Gaz and Johnny had watched her maneuver like starving dogs, eyes intent, and faces serious. Ghost had seen them less solemn at funerals. 

Much nodding and ‘Okay’ing came from the 141’s corner of this impromptu cartwheel showdown. His Sergeants seemed determined to get it right this time. Ghost slid his phone from his pocket and started recording, feeling a bit mournful he hadn’t been around to watch what must have been some truly glorious first attempts. His want for a cigarette completely forgotten. 

After a brief scuffle and a furious round of paper-scissors-stone,  it was determined that Gaz would be going first. 

Gaz lined himself up, staring blankly ahead and shaking out his arms like he was going into a fight. After a long moment of nothing, Gaz ran a few steps then threw himself forward. His hands made contact, his feet left the ground, and Ghost watched him deliberately straighten out his spine as his feet passed over his head, but he must have overcorrected somehow.

Gaz’s focused look took on a panicked hue as his legs started tipping backwards and he fell out of his cartwheel, landing on his hands and feet in a sort of table or crab-esque pose. Gaz stayed there for a moment, then went limp, dropping into the dirt with a loud groan of disappointment, “Fuckin' COME ON!” he shouted at the sky, slapping at the ground to work through his frustration. 

“ooo, an’ ya nearly had it there too.” Johnny cooed with mock sympathy, a shit-stirring grin splitting his cheeks. 

Gaz’s head snapped around, his ire finding a new focus, “Go on then,” he goaded “you do it, since it's so easy.”

Johnny’s smile fell off his face and he drew himself up, “Mebbe ah will,” he retorted, walking over a few paces so he had a clear runway and wouldn’t hit anyone. 

Johnny did the same nothing stare-down, that Ghost was coming to understand was integral to cartwheeling, then lunged forward. Forgoing any runup in favour of just pitching himself headfirst into his attempt. His hands hit the dirt and he threw his legs up with a grunt, keeping his spine straight as his feet passed over his head, but neglecting -Ghost noted- to fully unbend his knees. Johnny’s feet started to come down on his other side, but he had too much momentum and couldn’t stick the landing. His legs folded under him and he ended in an awkward crouch, all his weight sat uncomfortably on his tangled feet. Trying to stand failed and Johnny fell out of his newly invented yoga pose to land on his ass with an upset grunt and an upsetter pout. 

Gaz’s snickering reached him through his sulk, and Johnny whipped around to fervently defend his honor, “Ah still did better than ye!”

Gaz gasped with what seemed to be genuine offense, “You did not! Your legs were bent the whole time!” Gaz shouted as he stood -having not bothered to before- to properly lord over Johnny’s failings.

“Bu’ ah didnae tip o’er half way noo did ah, ya pishin dafty!” came what Ghost could only assume was Johnny's rebuttal, as he too stood up. Immediately getting in Gaz’s face. 

“That doesn't mean you did any better! It just means your fail was longer!” Gaz bit out, then suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone and turned on Falsvur, “Tell him, Private!” 

Johnny also turned to face down the poor woman, “Aye! Tell the bampot all his eggs are double-yoakit, as he cannae see it himsel’,” he planted a hand on his hip and pointed an accusing finger in Gaz’s direction without even deigning to actually look over at him. 

“Uhm!” Private Falsvur squeaked, holding up her hands to ward off the highly trained special forces military men, who were demanding she rank their cartwheels, “Uh, you both did better than you did before. You’re definitely improving!” She gave them a grin and a shaky thumbs up. 

Gaz and Johnny were stopped from making any kind of reply as Ghost finally lost the stangle-hold he’d been struggling to maintain over his composure and went down in hysterics. 

The Sergeants gawped with open mouths and horrified eyes as their Lieutenant slowly sank down the wall behind him, hugging his belly and heaving with laughter. Phone still clutched in one hand. 

Ghost was sure that the last part of the video was going to be nigh-on unwatchable with how hard he’d been shaking with silent giggles, but it was so worth it. 

Ghost felt his eyes start to sting as his tears made his eye-black run and tried to calm down, taking deep breaths and blowing them out slowly. When only one breath in three ended with a giggle, Ghost slid his phone securely back into his pocket and opened his eyes to find his Sergeants standing over him, one sheepishly, one impatiently, and Private Falsvur nowhere to be seen. 

“Well? Wasnae mah cartwheel better?” 

Tada! Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it! If you're wondering, the first thing Ghost did with that video is show it to Price.

If you have an idea or a prompt you want me to write, please tell me! My ask box is open.

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐀𝐬 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 2.6k

chapter summary: you decide to host a New Year's party and when Joel shows up soaked to the bone thanks to the rain, you lead him to the bathroom to dry him up.

warnings: piv, secret relationship, dirty talk, joel getting really creative with the shower head

a/n: let's just consider this little fic an alternative version of the question "what if the outbreak didn't happen plus tommy still doesn't know about you and joel" Normally he would learn before outbreak day no matter if the outbreak happens or not but I wanted to keep the sneaking around bit for this one soooo

I would also like to thank everyone who has been following the story! Every comment is precious to me and I appreciate it more than you realize. I'm so happy people are still enjoying it, I have big plans for this series and I will be finishing it spring time. I hope the new year brings you all peace and happiness, happy new year everyone!

**divider by the talented @saradika-graphics xx

Rain washes away everything. It washes away the dirt of the street, rejuvenates the drying trees, makes the grass greener. In Austin rain truly is a blessing. Every living thing hungers for it. To you, it symbolizes the new beginnings and the losses. You half listen to the chatter between Olivia and Tommy as you peek out the window, smooth drops cascading down the surface. For some, the rain wasn’t an ideal weather to have during New Year’s, but to you, it only made the atmosphere cozier. 

The crowded party buzzes around you, people laughing, dancing, and sharing stories. You can't help but notice familiar faces from the community seamlessly mingling with Tommy and Olivia's friends, since you were still relatively new you didn’t know many people other than neighbors and asked them to invite people. The room echoes with the joy of New Year's Eve.

It’s been a painful yet surprising year, to say the least. The loss of your grandfather, the unexpected move, the journey to find yourself. . . all of it had been a bit much, a bit daunting. However, as your mind drifts off to the new room in the old house you realize that some things are truly different. You have people who care about you now. You have the Miller’s, Olivia, your art. All in all, it had also been an amazing year. 

The thought makes guilt gnaw at your insides. Tommy still doesn’t know about you and Joel, you were supposed to tell him. . .Joel was supposed to tell him but alas neither of you found the courage to come clean. The past couple of months had been so blissful with him. Neither of you wanted to give that up. 

The faint smell of cinnamon reaches your nose and you find yourself smiling even though you’re only slightly worried. 

Joel’s late. 

“He’s fine,” you hear Tommy whine, turning around you see him rolling his eyes. “He’s a big boy, sweetheart. He’ll be okay in a little bit of rain.” 

Big boy, indeed. 

“Where is he anyway?” Olivia asks, stuffing her mouth full of crackers. 

“He went to drop off Sarah—and there’s plenty of food, you’re not off to war you know. You can eat one at a time.” 

Olivia slapped Tommy’s shoulder and took a seat next to him, “Bit weird she’s not gonna be here with us.” 

“Sarah’s been beggin’ Joel for months. Finally, he caved when she pulled the ‘you know how hard it’s been for me to make friends’ card. Poor man didn’t stand a chance.” 

“So,” you continue, sitting across from them. “They spent Christmas together, just the two of them. That was Joel’s deal. And she’s doing her own laundry for two months.” 

“Damn, I hope the party is worth it.” Olivia gives you a mischievous grin, her eyes lighting up as they meet your gaze. "You know," she starts, leaning in slightly, "I have this friend, Jake. . .” 

You cut her off, "I'm good, Liv. I'm not looking for anything right now."

"Oh, come on! He's sweet, handsome, and he's got a great sense of humor. You two would hit it off."

Your gaze quickly shifts between Tommy and Olivia. His expression tightens ever so slightly, and you catch the subtle change. Olivia, oblivious, or at least choosing to be, continues.

"Just imagine it. A romantic date, a nice dinner, maybe a movie... He’ll treat you right and if he doesn’t I’ll break his arms."

"Liv, really, I appreciate it, but I'm not ready for that kind of thing. Besides, I'm pretty content with how things are right now."

Olivia narrows her eyes. "It’s been a year, you’re ready for one date. Trust me." Then, much to your horror, she turns to Tommy and gestures to you. “Back me up Tommy, isn’t she ready?” 

Tommy clears his throat, looking uncomfortable as ever. He parts his lips and worry knots itself deep in your stomach. 

Luckily, you’re saved by a slightly drunk woman you don’t recognize and let out a break of relief. She situates herself next to Tommy, throwing a hand over his broad shoulder, she pulls him close and whispers something in his ear, fingers playfılly dancing over the fabric of his shirt. Olivia rolls her eyes but honestly, you’re happy and grateful for the distraction. 

You’re saved a second time when the door opens, the sudden sound of rain drawing your attention. You smile instinctively upon seeing Joel, which is a bit rude you figure, because he looks miserable. His leather jacket is dripping, hair sticking to his forehead. Just how hard was it pouring outside? Must’ve picked up when you, Olivia, and Tommy were chatting along. 

Joel, with dropped shoulders and head, spots Tommy first and then you. He makes his way, the defeated walk making him look like a teenager. Tommy bursts out laughing when he sees his older brother, the sound deepens the furrow between Joel’s brows. 

“You look like shit!” Tommy says and you notice Olivia desperately trying to hide her laughter behind her palm. 

“It’s rainin’ cats and dogs you jackass.” Your eyes move up gradually up his body. The rain had darkened the color of his shirt, the flimsy fabric sticking to the planes of his chest. Heat rises to your cheeks. “Is there anythin’ I can burrow sweet tea? Maybe somethin’ that August left behind?” 

“What?” you clear your throat, blinking, you meet his gaze. His knowing smile is enough to set fire between your legs. “Sorry didn’t quite catch that.” 

“Shirt,” he says, lips curling. “Unless you want me drippin’ all over your couch, somethin’ dry would be nice.” He raises a brow when you continue to stare at him, dazed. “Maybe your brother left behind somethin’?” 

Oh god, he’s spelling every word slow and careful meaning he definitely knows you’ve been ogling him. You get up quickly, ignoring the proximity between your bodies, you’d expected him to take a step back but he was as still as stone. You’re like an open book, hopefully, the pretty lady perched next to Tommy is enough to distract him. 

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, breathing a bit heavily. You don’t need to say anything else as you begin to part the crowd, leading him upstairs to the bathroom. You can feel him right behind you, the heat radiating off of him warming your back. 

Finally reaching the bathroom, you push him inside and quickly close the door, leaning against it, you let out a breath. 

However, you don’t get to breathe in when you feel a pair of lips against your own. You shudder as his soaked chest presses against yours, hands cupping your waist, Joel guides your hips towards him. He’s hard as a rock. He swallows the soft voices climbing up your throat and grinds roughly against you. 

“Fuck, honey,” he rasps, dragging his lips to your cheek. “You really know how to get a man goin’.” 

“I didn’t even do anything.” 

“You starin’ at me like you’re about to devour me ain’t nothin’.” he nips at your neck, your body burning at the sharpness. “I’ve missed you too.” 

“Don’t remember saying that,” you tease and thread your finger through the wet locks. “You’re cold.”

“You should warm me up then.” 

You slip your hands under his shirt, not missing the way he shudders against you. He brings his lips back up, only an inch away, but refuses to close the distance. You keep stroking him. Warm palms moving up and down against cold and damp skin. Joel’s forehead drops onto yours. 

“You do realize there’s a party going on outside right? A part that includes your brother, who we are keeping us a secret from.” 

“For someone worried about the crowd you’re doin’ a whole lot to tempt me, darlin’.” he kisses your jaw. “You look beautiful by the way.” 

You’re happy to hear that because he was the only reason why you decided to wear a low-cut shimmering silver dress. You had also opted to wear an almost sheer pair of black stockings underneath, giving your legs a lovely glow.  

“Why thank you, kind sir.” 

“I love it when you call me sir,” he groans and presses harder against you. Your eyes flutter closed but despite it, you can feel his gaze taking in the bathroom. “You fancied up the place quite a bit.” 

A hoarse laughter escapes your throat, “You should thank the crowd downstairs for the fancy towels and the smell of vanilla.” 

“You know. . . now that I’m thinkin’ about it it ain’t fair I’m the only one wet.” 

“Believe me, Joel, I am soaking wet.” 

“That’s not what I meant sunshine,” he gives you a lopsided smile before tugging you towards the tub. “Come’re.”

You wordlessly follow him into the porcelain, your curiosity piqued. His fingertips trace up your waist and find the hidden zipper, slowly, he tugs it down, the sound of it inaudible from the beating of your heart. The dress pools under your knees and your gaze is fixed on him as you step out of the soft fabric. While you’re taking in the sight of his hair curling on his forehead, he takes in the sight of the soft contours of your body. He presses a soft kiss against your stomach, a shudder crawls up your spine. 

“Turn around.” He orders, voice dropping to a whisper. 

“What about my stockings?” 

“I’ll take care of’em.” 

You brace your hand against the wall, sticking your ass out, you smile when you hear the hitch of his breath. His knuckles follow the curve of your spine and a second later you hear a loud rip. 

“Joel—“

“I’ll get you new ones.” You feel him reaching up and at the same time, he slides your panties to the side. He hums. “You are wet.”

“Told you so.”

You hear a soft click, you’re barely able to register the sound as he begins to dip between your folds and stroke. Somehow your brain whispers to you that he’s adjusting the pressure of the shower head. “What are you doing back there?” 

“Remember when you told me how much you enjoyed the different settings when I changed the pipes and the shower head?” You honestly didn’t. “Well, I haven’t, darlin’.” 

He turns on the water, away from you thankfully, but you still tense at how cold it is as it gathers at the bottoms of your feet. 

“I know baby, I know. It’ll get warmer soon.” 

And it does. Your body relaxes, the subtle warmth prompting the arch of your back. Joel gently pushes your legs apart, pushing the shower head between your legs directly onto your—

“Oh god—Joel, fuck—“

“Such a filthy mouth for such a good girl,” he says into your ear. “Bet you’ve done this before sweetheart.” 

You had, well. . . You tried. But it hadn’t felt as good at this. A single forceful stream of insistent water massages your clit. The arousal that pulses between your legs is washed away down your thighs. Without even realizing you start to hold your breath and embarrassingly enough you roll your hips. 

You need more. You need him. 

Your legs part wider, trembling as you try to tell him but instead of sentences needy whimpers echo from your throat. You feel his smile on the back of your neck, teeth scraping your warm skin every time your hips twitch. He starts moving the showerhead and your entire body goes numb. It’s so much but so little at the same time. 

“You’re being loud, sweetheart.” You shake your head, trying desperately to bite back the moans. “But maybe you like the idea of our friends hearing how needy you get for me.” 

You clench at the words, nails scraping against the smooth surface of the wall. 

“Please. . .” 

“Please what?” 

Damn him. 

“Fuck me,” you gasp out. “Fuck me please—I’m. . . I’m going insane.” As if to demonstrate your words, you grind down until the shower head spreads your folds, a groan reverberating in your throat as the water fills every inch. “Just fuck me, give me your cock.” 

“What if I say I want you to come like this?” 

You don’t even think as you answer, “I’ll cry.” 

He stills like the calm before the storm then bursts out laughing. Some logical part of your brain is urging you to shush him, remind him that people might hear but you can’t when he sounds so joyful. His deep voice full of life. 

“Fine, sweet tea, you win. Wouldn’t want you to cry durin’ New Year’s.” 

Joel turns off the water and you turn, facing him as he does. His eyes widen when you cup his cheeks, he’s so warm now, so soft from the steam. “Let’s head to my bedroom,” you mutter. “Auggie’s spare clothes are there anyway.” 

His hands softly land on your hips, thumbs moving over the waistband of your stockings. “You sure?” 

“I want to see you when you bury yourself into me.” 

That’s all he needs to hear before dragging you out of the bathroom. You both hurry, the sound of the party still lively downstairs. Luckily your bedroom is close to the bathroom so there isn’t much risk as you follow him out half naked, your sparkling dress in hand. 

As soon as you both enter the bedroom, his lips are on yours, pushing you towards the bed until the back of your knees hits the edge and you fall. He follows your dive, his weight pleasant on top of you. 

Feeling numb with want, you quickly tug his shirt off of him, and his hands fumble with his belt. Joel doesn’t even bother to take his pants off completely. He frees himself with one hand and pushes in without a word. You both moan, mouths inches apart from each other. Neither of you breaks away from the eye contact. It’s so intimate like this. Your cheeks burning at how naked you feel having him witness the parting of your lips, the flutter of your gaze. 

You feel so full, so complete. The slow drag of his cock making you see starts every time he presses forward, brushing against something devastating inside you with every move. Tears gather in your lashes and he kisses them away. Then he drags his lips down to your neck, sucking at nipping. Your breath catches in your throat, your back arching as you clench around him. He groans into your skin, thrusts becoming shallow and quick. 

“I’m not gonna last, honey,” he rasps. “Tell me where.” 

Just as he says that his hand slides between your bodies, finding your throbbing clit. He draws quick circles, your muscles constricting immediately. At the very last second Joel covers your mouth with his own, muffling your cry as you gush around him, insides twitching and pulsing. He swallows the sounds hungrily. “Where?” he growls against your lips. 

“On my pussy,” you gasp. “Want to feel you there.” 

He tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth before moving away, you spread your legs further, pushing yourself apart with two fingers. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. His hand wrapped tightly around his cock as he strokes himself. It doesn’t take him long to come undone. Your eyes roll when you feel it. The vicious spurt of his come, the way it drips. It feels like it lasts forever. He comes and comes and comes— painting you with his seed. 

When he’s done, he slips his softening cock back inside, pushing himself deeper into you. You both whimper in unison, and he nuzzles the crook of your neck.  You begin to play with the ends of his hair, nails scratching the back of his neck. 

“Happy New Year, Joel.” 

“Happy New Year, sweet tea.” 

[ak319]

Weird Yan Cousin x reader (Platonic)

//Warnings: Mentions of prostitution, human trafficking, kidnapping, weird behaviour but not incest, gore)

Your life had taken such a twisted turn for the worse this year, leaving you wondering if you were cursed. First, your parents died tragically in a fire that destroyed their home. Then, you found out your partner had been unfaithful. Since you shared an apartment, you had to move out, but they stayed, and the two of you were still arguing about selling it to split the money.

As if that wasn’t enough, you lost your job just three days after the breakup--allegedly for poor performance, which was completely untrue. None of this was your fault, yet everything seemed to be spiralling out of control. You were teetering on the edge when you received a strange phone call.

It was from someone claiming to be a distant cousin, Nova Salem. The name struck a chord--she was from your father’s side, the daughter of your uncle Ralph. But you had never met her or any of that side of the family. Your father had severed ties with them long ago. Ralph was only his half-brother, born from your second grandfather, Edmund Salem, whom you’d also never met.

Her sudden call made you feel uneasy, but you were desperate for help, and she offered it without hesitation. Pushing aside all the questions swirling in your mind--about your family dynamics, her abrupt contact, and the series of unfortunate events that felt like a row of dominoes crashing--you packed your bag. The next day, Nova's chauffeuse, Robyn, picked you up from your friend's place.

Robyn was an odd one, giving you mostly one-word, cryptic answers to anything you asked. What really threw you, though, was the route she took. You’d assumed Nova lived somewhere in the city, but Robyn just kept driving... and driving.

Now, here you were, standing in front of a massive estate in the middle of nowhere. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Robyn suddenly spoke from behind you.

"Let's get you inside, ma'am." Robyn's voice cut through the eerie silence as you gripped the strap of your bag, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Um, are you sure this is--"

"Yes, it's the Salem estate."

You glanced around, trying to keep your nerves in check. It could easily pass as a horror movie set, noting the distant tree line, the stormy skies, and the endless dirt road behind. Was this even the right choice? Panic started to creep in. What if she's not my cousin and just stalked my family tree to lure me here?! I am so stupid!

"Welcome, cousin."

Your eyes snapped forward to see a tall figure standing in the entrance, finally registering. Nova, no doubt. She stood taller than you, with short, thick black hair neatly styled, wearing a black turtleneck beneath a long cloak-like robe, paired with black pants...and bare feet?

Before you could even react, she closed the distance and pulled you into a tight hug, muffling your greeting and leaving you a bit breathless from the unexpected embrace.

"I can't believe you're finally here! You see this, Robyn?!" Nova exclaimed, her large hand gripping your head and shaking it playfully. "My little sister is here at last!"

Robyn merely nodded and silently took your other suitcase inside, leaving just the two of you.

"S-sister?" you stammered, taken aback. Her eyes gleamed even brighter, if that was possible, the intensity in her gaze at odds with her composed appearance.

"Indeed, my soror," she affirmed, her hands now firmly grasping your shoulders. "I never got the chance to feel the love of siblings, and with all the family drama and stuff, I was always left out. I never had the chance to have any real connection with family. You’re the only cousin I have."

Her words tugged at your heart, though you couldn’t shake the underlying suspicion.

"No other cousins at all?" you asked, cautiously.

"Nope. My mother was an only child. Anyway, let's get you inside." Nova kept her hold on you, gently steering you toward the entrance. Just before stepping in, she paused, making sure you took off your shoes in the porch. "Enter humbly," she said with a strange conviction. "We are born of the earth, and to the earth, we will return. It’s only right that we honour our origin, for soil should never fear soil."

What? The statement left you puzzled, but you decided to go along with it, stepping inside the dimly lit hallway.

Candles? Really?

"Um, why are the lights off?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

"Electricity? Oh, I forgot--you’re a city girl," Nova replied, her tone almost teasing. "I'll ask Robyn to have the switch on for your room--the fan, the lights---but the rest of the house operates without it."

"Why, though? In this day and age? Like, nothing at all?"

Instead of answering, she simply let out a low, eerie chuckle, leaving your nervous laugh hanging awkwardly in the heavy air.

"Let me show you your room." Nova's voice echoed down the dimly lit corridor, where candle flames flickered against the walls, casting long, dancing shadows. The mansion’s interior had an unmistakably gothic feel, with dark wood panelling, high arched ceilings and classic, aged furnishings. The air was thick with an old-world charm as if you had stepped into a place frozen in time. The paintings on the walls, though faded with age, exuded an eerie beauty, depicting somber figures mostly of a woman--always the same portrait of her--and forgotten landscapes

You stepped inside the room, expecting more of the same gloomy charm, only to freeze in disbelief.

What the hell is going on?

"Why is it… all… pink?" you asked, blinking at the sight before you. The walls were plastered with Barbie stickers that looked as vintage as the rest of the house. The bed was oversized and covered in frilly pink bedding, surrounded by plush toys that had seen better days.

"Isn't this what girls love?" Nova said with a wide, innocent smile. "Like little sisters?"

You spun around, trying to process everything. "Hold up. I just met you for the first time ever, so can you please stop calling me your little sister? We're cousins and barely even know each other." Your voice rose as you gestured at the pink explosion around you. "Also, do you think I’m 12?!" The moment the words left your mouth, you felt a pang of regret. Nova’s smile faded, and she looked taken aback. Guilt set in as you realized how harshly you had reacted. She had offered you a place to stay during a rough time. Maybe you could have been more understanding and patient, especially considering she provided you with a bed and a roof over your head.

"Oh my God..." For Nova, that was the most adorable thing she had ever witnessed.

"Um... I--"

"ROBYN! ROBYN!" Nova’s voice cut through the air, making you back away nervously. Her gaze remained fixed on you as she continued to shout.

"Yes, ma'am? How may I assist you?"

"(Y/n)..." Nova grabbed Robyn by the collar, shaking her with surprising force. "My sister--sorry, soon-to-be sister--just had her first tantrum! All thanks to you, Robyn, you absolute genius!"

What in the world--is she being excited or just passive-aggressive? You couldn’t tell.

"It’s okay! I mean, I like it... It’s good."

"You do? You don’t want another room?"

"Um, if... it’s available th--"

"No, it isn’t."

"...this is it then... I guess."

"Robyn, get the food ready. My cousin needs her evening nourishment."

"Aye."

They left you standing in the room, utterly dumbfounded. Everything about this day--and about her--was making you feel dizzy. The way she carries herself, the way she speaks--it’s all becoming a blur. Something in your heart warns that this is going to be a nightmare.

But at least you’re not in some serial killer’s clutches, as you feared before entering. Being an only child and living in such a large mansion might have messed with her mental health, but you hoped it hadn’t gotten worse than this.

The sudden flicker of the lights jolted you from your thoughts, making your soul feel like it had left your body. The room’s colour was now painfully vivid, almost too much to bear. Honestly, the dim glow of the candles was easier on the eyes.

You soon found yourself dining with Nova in the grand dining hall, the two of you beginning to learn about each other. Mostly, you listened to her recounting her adventures. It was impressive how many languages she knew and the places she had visited, though she seemed completely oblivious to modern slang and anything related to media, which you found a bit amusing.

"Anthropologist, huh? Isn't it boring?"

"Boring?" She cackled, her laughter echoing through the vast room. "Absolutely not! I get to travel, explore, and find fascinating things." Judging by the eclectic items scattered around the room, she was certainly telling the truth.

"You seem to have a fondness for skulls."

"Oh! Haha! Aren't they so symbolic in their own way? They are empty, yet their hollow eyes seem to gaze into the essence of mortality itself. Each one holds the silent echoes of a life once lived, a reminder of our own fleeting existence and the stories that we leave behind."

"Are they real?"

"I leave that to the admirer to decide. What do you think?"

"Fake or maybe both, judging by how much you’ve explored."

"You think I’d bring skulls from my adventures?"

"Umm..."

Her laugh interrupted you again. "You’re so naive, (Y/N)."

Just as I suspected.

"Anyway, what about your love life?"

"I don't feel attracted to the idea of being subjected to bodily fluids, particularly in moments of passion. " You felt your appetite slip away.

That’s a rather...unique way to say you’re asexual and single...?

"Cool. But doesn’t it get lonely here?"

"Loneliness isn’t something I mind. Besides, I’m not alone--I have Robyn and now you. A little-"

"Cousin."

"Indeed, a little cousin." You picked up your phone and then realized something. "Oh, I need the Wi-Fi password."

"Sorry, but that might not be possible."

"What?! Don’t tell me you don’t use Wi-Fi! That’s atrocious."

"You see, this technology that the youth have become so attached to has many malevolent effects. I cannot let you be subjected to that."

"What do you mean?! I need to find a job! And how do you do your own work?" Her calm demeanour remained unshaken as Robyn appeared behind you, slamming a newspaper down in front of you. The suddenness startled you. What is it with these people and their jump scares?

"This is today’s paper and your source for finding work."

"Are you kidding me? I need Wi-Fi for my job. I do half of my work online!"

"I’ll need to observe the signs this week. If they are favorable, you might get access. Farewell, cousin. Have a good sleep. Robyn, please escort her to her chambers." You clenched your jaw as she walked away. "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! WHAT SIGNS?! SO YOU DO HAVE WI-FI?!"

God, what is going on? Is this a fever dream?

You were absolutely enraged in the following days. Apparently, the signs were negative, which meant you were stuck with no FUCKING Wi-Fi!

"Maybe the signs will be positive next month."

Whatever that means. In the meantime, you faced a series of bizarre occurrences that only deepened the unsettling feeling about your stay here and made you question reality. Despite her insistence on not using electricity, the candles lit themselves as if by some hidden mechanism. You were certain she used Wi-Fi--how else would she manage her research and extensive travels?

Her behavior was equally bewildering. She walked barefoot, even in the muddy grass outside during the rain, and would spend hours out there.

Some events left you sleepless for nights.

You once saw her talking to a pillar in the lawn from your bedroom window at night. At first, you thought she might be on a call, but no. She was facing the pillar the entire time. And then there was the incident where she literally smelled your... period.

"Eat this," she said, offering you a bowl of literal pickles. You swatted it away.

"What the fuck, dude?!"

"It’s to relieve menstrual pains. Although not scientifically proven, it is a good remedy."

"I’m fine. AND HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO IT AGAIN?!"

"Just a matter of having good senses."

In the evenings, she always visited you for tea, bringing her two black hounds along. Despite your protests, she continued to bring them inside. You hated how they always seemed to sniff under the bed, her dark, void-like eyes trained on them as if she wanted them to find something.

Wouldn't want her cousin hiding something, would she? Perhaps thinking she could slip away, unnoticed, back to her old life?

Due to the lack of Wi-Fi, you spent most of your time reading books and exploring the mansion, trying out the strange array of activities Nova had set up for you. She instructed Robyn to teach you various skills like shooting, wrestling, and knife throwing....? You enjoyed it though but yes, you were shocked to discover that Robyn wasn’t just a driver, chef, or butler but seemed to be some sort of retired hitwoman. She never confirmed nor spoke about herself, adding to the mystery.

Despite the chaos and strangeness, you found yourself adapting to this bizarre new routine, almost treating it like a vacation and unexpectedly lifting you out of your depression.

You tried finding jobs but with no success. Every time you found a promising ad, something mysteriously went wrong with the car. It always seemed to break down, as if on cue. The phone in the estate barely worked, with your friend's voice garbled into unintelligible fragments or the call cutting off entirely before you could get a full sentence in. It was as if the house itself refused to let any connection to the outside world slip through.

One day, you had had enough of watching Nova work on her COMPUTER in her study while you languished in boredom.

"Look, I appreciate your hospitality, but it seems I’ve actually found a job, and it's time for me to-"

"You haven’t," Nova said, her voice smooth but chilling as she stepped closer, her face half-hidden in the shadows. "Don’t lie. I despise liars."

"Nova, I’ve had enough of this. I’m sorry, but living here is overwhelming with all the bizarre restrictions, the eerie silence, and the lack of contact with anyone! I can’t stay here. I need to go out and find a job! I didn’t come here to live permanently."

"And you think you have a say in that, cousin?"

"Wha-" Before you could finish, a cloth soaked in a strong, suffocating chemical was pressed against your face. The world around you blurred and faded as you struggled to breathe, slipping into unconsciousness.

"You are not going anywhere, Duif." (dove, in Dutch)

You woke up to the unsettling sound of floorboards creaking and the ominous clinking of metal against metal. Your body felt unnervingly cold, and you soon realized you were bound to a chair with ropes.

"Awake, (Y/N)?" Nova's voice, as smooth and chilling as velvet, made your blood run cold. You shivered uncontrollably as you saw her standing a few feet away. Robyn was in another corner, methodically sharpening a row of gleaming knives.

God, no. This can't be happening...

"Please... Nova, what is happening?! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! Please!" You didn’t care that you were pleading and sobbing in front of this lunatic. Fear clutched at your heart, twisting it painfully. You regretted everything that had led you to this point. You’d already lost your parents, your partner, your job--was your life now slipping through your fingers as well?

"Shush. Don't be scared. I just want you to listen to me. And carefully." Nova said as she grabbed a stool and sat in front of you. Where are we even? Is this some hidden room? Your eyes darted around frantically, taking in the grim surroundings, chains hanging from the bloody walls, a nailed coffin standing ominously in the corner, a table cluttered with various torture tools that Robyn stood beside, and, bizarrely, a fucking jacuzzi in the corner.

"Listen, it's time I tell you the things you need to know. About me, this family and even yours. You see (Y/N), my father, Ralph Salem, he wasn't a good man. He was involved in all types of bad things. Especially regarding...women. I was a teen when I found out he was involved in trafficking girls, the reason he fucked around with lots of women and... young girls, simultaneously abusing my mother mentally and physically. When he caught her leaving with me, he killed her... in front of me. Imagine that, I couldn't do anything." She paused with a dry scoff, "You have seen that pillar right? The devil buried her under it. I couldn't stand it. I wanted to die but he kept me alive because I was his heir, with his fucking disgusting blood inside of me. So I waited, I became the perfect heir for him only so that I could kill him in the most brutal way...which I did," You whimpered at her dark chuckle as she wiped your tears.

"Do you know where you come in?" Nova's voice was icy as she continued. "I began researching you the moment I discovered your existence. I wanted some form of familial love, even after I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone." Abruptly, she rose and moved to Robyn, taking a freshly sharpened knife from her hands.

"Guess what I found? Your parents were my father's business partners at one point. You see these skeletons here?" She gestured to the grim collection. "These are the people I hunt, (Y/N)--the ones my father worked with, those entangled in this... industry. And I continue hunting them. So I did to your parents what I did to all of them. Robyn, show her."

The butler pulled a lever, causing a hidden closet to open. Inside, the bodies of your parents were revealed--half burned, half slashed, with their limbs gone, only torsos-making you scream in horror.

"The bodies at the crime scene weren’t theirs. I used my connections to save them for you--along with another surprise," Nova said, her voice dripping with cold satisfaction as she slid the door open further. There, your partner’s corpse was revealed, grotesquely nailed to the wall like a butterfly, their chest open and hollow, blood eagle...which Nova once told you about. Without warning, you threw up to the side, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You could barely breathe, each gulp of air shallow and shaky, and you felt the world closing in. Please just let this be a nightmare. Wake up (Y/n), wake up!

"Did I mention that I eliminate bad partners too? How could I let them live after what they did to my dear...cousin?" She stepped closer, the knife gleaming in her hand. You shook your head desperately, unable to form coherent words. With a swift motion, she cut the ropes binding you, forcing you to stand. Her gaze was fierce, unyielding.

"You, however , were innocent, unaware of your parent's past. So from now on, you are a Salem. You will live here, as you are meant to." Her gaze darkened. "This is your place, your family. And I won’t have you trying to run away."

You slammed the trunk door shut and turned to Nova, who was meticulously removing her gloves.

"He was quite the noisy one," she remarked with a nod. "Indeed, sestra. Though you did a commendable job tracking him, little nerd. Now, let’s head back. My favourite part awaits in the mansion."

Ah, yes, it was Wednesday--skinning day.

From a software engineer to an assistant to a serial killer cousin with an intriguing butler, you found yourself strangely enthralled by this new life.

‘I want this world to be rid of those like my father, who mirror him in even the slightest way, together with you, my dear cousin.’

(AN: I realised that Nova might have put her own childhood plushies in the reader's room, which tugs my heart😭my baby)

[am-i-interrupting]

hazbin hotel (Velvette) hcs with a Regina George reader. Like she is another influencer as big or bigger than Velvette. But one of her (reader's) influencer "friends" (not Velvette just some rando fake charecter, doesn't matter) that she was often seen around had started rising above her so she leaked all the shit talk her and the other influencer had and then also added herself and basically just rose back to the top after pushing the influencer down. And it's like Velvette knows that you were the one who did that bc of Vox's cameras and shit but she (and the other Vees) can't really reveal it since then everyone would know Vox has cameras on them. idk if this makes sense lmao

You were good at what you did.

You were good at getting public favor and keeping it.

You stayed up to date on every trend, every drama, every scandal, every gossip or rumor. You knew it all.

You were big, very big.

There was only one person above you and that was the queen of social media herself, the overlord Velvette.

So it was unusual for someone to come even close to your status.

That is, of course, until you made the mistake of hanging out with a wannabe who knew how to be.

The thing that she didn’t know though, was that when you had dirt on someone you kept it.

You had everything even slightly controversial someone said around you filed away with photographic or videos evidence.

You also had connections and you weren’t afraid to use them.

So you anonymously leaked some of the shit talking she thought would be kept secret and sprinkled in some forged documents of her shit talking you.

The public ate up the scandal.

Oh, you were such a poor thing. Such a sweet, unsuspecting victim of such a rude, careless wannabe who was just using you.

She was irrelevant within the week and you were getting a spike in attention.

It worked in your favor with an upcoming event just around the corner anyway. A win all around for you.

Velvette knew.

Fuck, she was almost proud if she wasn’t unnerved.

The two of you weren’t close, nothing beyond a professional relationship with a few collabs here and there.

She was concerned now though, about how you might be able to turn the public favor your way if she did something you didn’t like.

She was walking on egg shells the entire time.

You noticed the change in behavior but didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t until months later that you collaborated on a project that you saw her again.

“You’re being less of a bitch than usual.” “Just protecting my ass.” “Aw, and why would you need to do that?” “Don’t act like you don’t know why.” “Oh, I do, but how do you?”

Velvette just glared at you.

“It’s a nice ass, worth protecting.”

You smacked it as you passed her to get something.

[bizkitsnuggets]

08 — THE PLAGUE

m.list

────────────────────────────────

“You liar!” The brunet angrily cornered Mattsun with a red face. He couldn't believe it! Mattsun had tricked him about getting McDonald's and instead drove him to some place. Tooru quickly noticed that the “place” was Night Shift's practice location.

Mattsun only smirked before responding, “Too bad, should've checked the GPS then.” He shrugged, making the red in Tooru’s face a darker shade. The brunet groaned in annoyance. Out of all the places Mattsun could've taken him, here…?

He clearly wasn't having it, but Mattsun was the only one with a car, and calling a cab on this busy road didn't seem ideal or realistic. Tooru knew he had no other choice but to stay in that place for a few more hours before he could go home.

“C’mon, UFO nut, what's so bad about watching the group practice? They sound good!” Mattsun broke the odd silence.

Tooru closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “It's not the music, Mattsun. It's her.” He emphazised the word ‘her’, hinting who he meant to Mattsun. The brunet sighed, he really didn’t want to deal with YN. Tooru simply didn’t have the energy left, as he had spilled his milk tea all over his sweater and his professor pestering him to mark his student’s work.

The red on his face had faded away and was now replaced with an annoyed expression from just remembering the not-so-pleasing morning he had.

Mattsun clicked his tongue and flicked the brunet’s forehead, “You’re actually an idiot. She’s not gonna kill you just because you like aliens.” Tooru whined in respond, he’s fully aware he’s being childish about this whole situation. There’s no one else to blame but him. Still, he doesn’t want to cave into reality and believe he is in the wrong and instead continue his overgrowing hatred for poor YN.

And he knows that even if he bribed or begged Mattsun to take him home, it won’t work. Matsukawa is a strong man with a strong mentality. He doesn’t fall for silly tricks or antics especially if it’s from Tooru. Maybe if the brunet turned into a certain candy-colored vocalist, Mattsun would agree to drive him home…

Tooru crossed his arms and pouted like a sulky toddler, “You owe me mcodnalds on the way home.”

Upon entering the place, most of the band members were either cleaning or tuning their instruments. Unsuprsingly, Iwaizumi was also present. He never misses a group practice or performance, ‘I guess he’s a big fan of them’. Tooru thought as he rolled his eyes.

Mattsun and the brunet greeted everyone as if it was an objective in a video game to talk to every person present. But, as they were approaching their last target, YN, Tooru had noticed a vibrant colored keychain hanging from her jeans. Oh, how Tooru was hating himself for deciding to not wear his glasses today. Mattsun thought he looked stupid squinting his eyes like that would make a difference. Upon a closer inspection, the alien obsseded brunet realized YN’s keychain was the limited edition toy story alien keychain.

He winded his eyes in pure disbelief, a new mix of emotions started consuming him. Tooru wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, excitement, shock, or even relief.

Was he intrigued? Very much so.

Will he stop being an ass to YN? No.

Mattsun greeted the bass player as she was busy wiping dirt off of her precious bass. She looked up at him and smiled, “Hey! Glad to see Makki’s boyfriend again.” YN teased as Mattsun’s face turned into a dark shade of red. The girl shifted her gaze to the unusually quiet Tooru. He wasn’t even looking at her, his eyes were everywhere but her own.

Despite that, she still made sure to acknowledge him. Tooru responded by glaring at her and then giving her an obvious fake smile. The kind of smile you give someone when you want to let them know that you don’t vibe with them.

And that deceiving smile of his didn’t go unnoticed by Iwaizumi and Makki who were watching the scene unfold. Fortunately for YN, she never picked up his expression and returned a cheeky smile. Which earned a low “ugh,” from the brunet.

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notes:

iwa doesn't have a car so he rides a motorcycle instead

tanaka and bokuto were at the dog park when they had practice

in the end, mattsun treated tooru to kfc instead of mcdonalds

do you guys believe in aliens?

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