#rambling about frames and being exited

[brewed-pangolin]

Ribbed for Her Pleasure

A/N: I can't recall who I saved this Soap photo from. If anyone knows, please tell me so I can give credit. 💛

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, filthy banter, car sex, slight exhibitionism

Thank y'all for being patient. Seems like the writers block has started to lift a bit, and I'm finally back to indulging myself in Soap filth. Enjoy a nice road trip that turns into an exciting sexcapade. @glitterypirateduck I decided to flip the script on this one. I can't say no to Soap being a menacing tease. @waves-against-a-cliff thank you for sending in my first 🛞⭕💢⭕💢🛞, hope you like it.

Love y'all. And happy Super Soap Sunday!

WC ~2k

4Runner Soap loves to tease while driving on extended road trips.

--

It's subtle at first. His warm hand resting on your thigh as you ramble on about nothing and everything under the sun.

He'll steal a few quick glances of your expression to attempt to gauge whether or not he's having the desired effect on you.

If you meet his steely gaze with equal growing intentions, he'll keep his hand resting on your thigh with a loving squeeze as his attention returns to the road ahead.

Yet if you show no reaction to his ministrations, continuing your verbal regurgitation of the weeks events, he'll have no choice but to press onward. His one hand gripped tightly around the steering wheel as the other moved further down ever closer between your thighs.

You feel his hand meandering ever closer to your clothed heat, but pay no mind to him. Only pointing out the next exit as you once more embellish his ears with mindless and unending banter.

Unperturbed by your unwillingness to give in, he sets forth in motion the one move, his last effort against your resolve to force you to finally surrender to him.

You didn't notice the subtle shift in the vehicles trajectory at first. Too focused on your phone and following the tiny icon as it moved along the highlighted route on the GPS.

It was only when you heard the rumbling hum of the tires over the ribbed outer lines of the lanes did you finally pull your eyes and pull your attention to him.

Before you could utter a singular protest, his hand moved the center of your thighs and pressed his index and middle finger into the inner seam of your jeans. Enhancing the continuous feel of the vibrations reverberating under the metal frame as they culminated into the growing throb emanating within your swelling folds.

"Johnny," you whimpered in feigning protest as his fingertips rubbed over the raised center of your trousers.

"What are you doing? Pay attention to the-"

"Shu' it, lass." Soap barked back with a playful bite rolling off his tongue.

"Rest tha' mouth a'yers fer a minute, yeah. Or I'm gonnae 'ave ta put ta better use."

Words failed you as his thick fingers continued to push into the flesh of your clothed cunt. Still riding the jagged lines on the pavement, making you roll your eyes back and bite your lip to quell the muffled moan threatening to escape within the depths of your throat.

"Ya like tha', bonnie? Ribbed fer yer pleasure by th'roadside?" He mocked with a confidence that never failed to make you quiver.

Feeling your arousal pool within in the depths of your soaking heat as his fingers pressed firmly against your swollen folds. Only managing to moan in response, which further fueled his resolve with a guttural growl, pulling his hands away from your growing pleasure and immediately shifting to take the next exit.

"Johnny, this isn't our exit."

"Nah. Emergency stop. Got a full stauner 'ere, and I cannae focus on nothin' else except tha' sweet pussy a'yers."

You turned to face him, eyes glancing down to focus on thr growing tent in his pants. The sounds of 4Runner's engine revving mirroring the sexual tension between the seats as Soap veered the vehicle into traffic, his eyes desperate and focused on finding a secluded passage for some much needed privacy.

-

It took no more than five minutes to find one that met his growing needs. A meandering dirt road that ended against an abandoned fence with a rusted and weather tempered 'No Trespassing' sign.

You barely had a moment to unbuckle your seat belt as he made his way to your side of the SUV. Inhuman speed fed by an unadulterated need to take you, unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder with a huffing grunt. Only to be reciprocated by a piercing snicker, accepting your fate as he threw you into the flattened back of the cargo space and greedily began tearing your clothes away.

"Aren't you afraid we'll get caught?" Your pathetic attempt to reason with him only seemed to spur him further into a needy and unbridled rage.

"Fuck 'em. My need fer ya outweighs them bloody regulations." Soap spat back through gritted teeth.

Your exposed form laying out for him as he pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the chiseled frame that always seemed to render you speechless and begging for him.

Feeling the warmth of your arousal pool within your folds, spreading your legs to invite him in with a confident stare that mirrored his own hungry gaze.

"Steamin Jesus, look a'tha. Already fuckin soakin fer me, aren't ya, bonnie?"

"Always, Johnny. Nobody makes me wetter than you."

Soap's cerulean eyes swirled with glorious intent, flickering between your desperate expression and the glistening folds of encroaching conquest as he hastily unbuckled the confines of his trousers. Pushing the fabric of his pants and boxers down to release his throbbing length, a subtle whimper escaping his lips to the cool air hitting his hot flesh as a stream of precum ran down the tip of his reddened cock.

"Yer always so fuckin pretty like this, lass. Spread out an' jus' waitin fer me."

His jaw tightened to sight of your cunt clenched around nothingness in reaction to his sultry brogue. Splaying yourself out for him like a sacrificial lamb while the deafening sounds of echoing traffic echoed from deep within the trees and rolled around the walls of your private encampment.

"Gonnae fuck ya good, bonnie," he purred lowly with a rolling timbre. Ever so slowly moving like a predator as he encroached and hovered over your flushed and exposed form.

The maelstrom churning within the depths of his eyes luring you to his turbulent sea of ecstacy, nestling himself within the crevice of your thighs as he aligned his hardened cock to the puckering hole of your swollen cunt.

"Joh-" your muffled attempt to calm his name was silenced as his mouth sealed over your lips. Piercing the fluttering walls of your pussy in one fluid stroke, bottoming out with a resonating growl while his hands found purchase under the soft bend of your knees.

"Put yer knees on me shoulders, bonnie." He coaxed, pulling away from your lips to guide the shaky limbs of your legs over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

The sudden shift in position moving him slightly within your tight walls as the greedy flesh of your cunt clenched around his turgid length. Rolling your eyes back with a hissing breath, hands flying up above your head to find purchase within the haul of the vehicle as he laid his dense and muscular form on top of your folded and contorted frame.

"Tha's it, bonnie. Fuckin' clench around me. Lemme feel how much ya need me."

As the sounds of his rumbling voice reverberated within your ears, he glacially pulled his hips back. Nearly pulling out completely before penetrating once more and filling the silken depths of your heat in one fluid and languid thrust. 

Forcing a gravelly moan from within the cavern of your chest, fingers wrapping around the metal frame protruding from the haul as Soap braced his hands on either side of your head and steadily began to thrust himself deep into your greedy hole.

“Johnny- aren't ya gonna close- the hatch?” you groaned, gritting your teeth while he picked up his pace. Steadily pounding his hips against your ass, his lips curling into a cocky smile while his eyes glinted at his mischievous intent.

“Nah, bonnie. Gonnae give em- a good show-” he crooned in response with a breathy growl. Disregarding your concern for the outside world, continuing to pound his cock into your welcoming heat as the creaking sound of the suspension began to echo across the shell of your ears.

You attempted to lift your head and catch a glimpse of the tree laden environment around you, only to be forced back down as Soap changed trajectory once more. Your mouth falling open with a silently pleasured protest as the thick head of his cock ran over a sensitive bundle of nerves deep within your cunt that only he had managed to find.

“Holy fuck!” Your voice hollered over the sounds of the croaking suspension, finally giving into the unrelenting ecstasy only he could provide. Arching your back against the carpeted floor of the cargo space, desperate to meet his powerful thrusts and aid in his direction while he maintained a steady, vigorous pace.

“Found tha’ spot. Didnae I, bon? Gonnae make a mess on me cock? Scream me name as I fuck ya real good? Clenchin around me like-”

“Goddammit! Shut up!” 

His unending banter had finally pushed your quiet resolve to the wayside. Reaching your hand feverishly towards his neck, wrapping your fingers around the chain of his dangling dog tags to bring his running mouth down to your lips and ultimately rendering him blissfully silent. 

Sinking your teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip as you wrap your free arm around the back of his neck. Keeping his chest flushed against yours, a thin sheen of sweat forming between the sliding flesh and forcing only his hips to move as he pumped himself into the depths of your soaking heat.

The wet sounds of your pussy emanating off the plastic and fabric haul of his 4Runner, accompanied by the combined gasping breaths from your chests that formed into a blissfully erotic symphony. A duet only heightened by the most pornagraphic whimper you had ever heard against your mouth as his hips began to stutter and his eyes pleaded for his upcoming release.

“Steamin Jesus, bonnie. I’m gonnae come. Gonnae fill ya up.” Soap’s muffled words vibrated against the flesh of your mouth as your free hand gripped into the thick locks of his mohawk. 

Pulling his mouth away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Letting your lips seal over the top of his shoulder and silence the strained bellow from within your chest as your orgasm suddenly erupted and coursed through your veins like a violent blaze.

Soap’s hot breath cascading against your flesh with a guttural growl, his hands gripping to the carpeted fabric as he bottomed out in one final thrust and emptied himself against the spongy walls of your pulsing cervix. Pulling his trembling body up to let your legs fall and extend, the burn of over exertion flowing underneath your skin as an all too familiar ache began to form within the buried tissue around your pelvis.

“Jesus Christ, Soap. Where the fuck did this come from?” Your voice hushed in the grips of blissful afterglow, hands meandering to his temples while his body steadily began to collapse above you.

“Donnae know, lass. Thinkin maybe, it was them bloody reflectors.”

Reluctantly, Soap began to pull himself off your overly exhausted frame, only to be pulled back down by your clawing hands and laid his head against your sweat ladened and heaving bare chest.

“Not yet, babe. Just rest a minute.” Speaking in a hushed tone, you pressed your lips against the drenched crest of his scalp. Tasting the saltiness against your tongue and allowing your hands to gently run down the curve of his spine as you felt him steadily give into body’s exhaustion. 

“If you don’t rest, Johnny, I’m gonna have to drive the rest of the way while you sleep this off.”

“Haud yer weesht, hen.” He retorted, his brogue quiet and muffled against the supple flesh of your breast. Your lips curling into a smooth smile as you reveled in the gentle sounds of nature accompanied by the everpresent hum of distant traffic.

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @ohgeesoap @d3athtr4psworld @mini-metal @punishmepunisher @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghosts-goldendoodle @shotmrmiller @mykneeshurt @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @tacticalanxiety @thetrashpossum @queen-ilmaree @sadstone-s @simpingoverquestionablemen @dustycrusty09 @foxface013 @haurasha @havoc973 @kkaaaagt @designateddeadend @luismickydees

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Yandere! Slasher! Heartslabyul Headcanons

Just a quick ramble hopefully because I saw something by @lustlovehart about serial killer Floyd and Jade and I was like: Jade Leech would make a convincing Hannibal Lector. Then I was like Deuce but Jason Voorhes. Now is the product of my brain rot. Non-Twisted Wonderland setting. Reader is gender neutral unless explicitly stated. Minor characters aged up.

Tw: yandere behavior, medical professional abuse, gore, murder, cannibalism, mentions of murder being recorded, forced cannibalism, verbal abuse, ooc Dylla mentions of some other real nasty shit

17+ CONTENT, DO NOT INERACT IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE TRIGGERED BY THE FOLLOWING CONTENT. IF YOU INSULT MY WORK BECAUSE YOU IGNORED MY WARNING YOU WILL BE BLOCKED! BY CLICKING KEEP READING YOU CONSENT TO READING THE FOLLOWING MATERIAL!

Riddle Rosehearts:

Bros the perfect serial killer I mean he's got it all:

Perfectionist attitude, dedicated to his work, abusive mom. I mean the slasher film practically writes itself.

I'm going with Riddle becoming a doctor like his mother was and being known for being one of the most successful doctors in the city. People are waitlisted trying to visit this "miracle doctor".

By day Riddle is the strict perfectionist who cares deeply for his patients, by night Riddle is meticulously finding and sadistically torturing criminals and "rule breakers" before beheading them. At first, he is seen as a benevolent force for ridding the city of its criminals and scum. However, The Red Queen, as he is called, swings her axe indiscriminately and soon beloved public figures are on the chopping block.

You could meet Riddle a multitude of ways, for this I'll say you are a critically ill patient who is in and out of the hospital. Hearing about the "miracle doctor" lead to you pleading with the red head. Riddle was moved by the "innocence" in your eyes and your desperate tone of voice. You needed him. He agreed and started your treatment.

Riddle grows feelings because of your kind and forgiving nature. You don't hold his strict and commanding behavior against him, only seeing it as him doing his job. Finally, someone worthy of the help of the Red Queen.

The problem came when you came into the office battered and bruised one day. Riddle demanded to know who the perpetrator was, but you kept you lips sealed. Riddle grew angry at your defiance, how dare you defy your queen, your protector. He screams at you, causing you to cry and curl into a helpless ball. Riddle feels guilt at making you feel this way and apologizes before gently encouraging you to tell him who your abuser was.

Riddle felt his rage hit an insurmountable amount when you revealed your abuser was the personal nurse your family hired for you. How dare this insolent peasant lay a finger on your divine form? No matter, Riddle will look through your patient files to find information about this personal nurse. He finds out that this nurse lives with you as a live in nurse, Riddle takes this information in with a sadistic grin.

Time to pay them a visit

You heard a garbled croak as you exited your ensuite bathroom. What could be making such a terrible noise? Cautiously you peeped through the door and crept towards the source of the noise. It was coming from your living room. You pattered over to the living room in bare feet, when a strong odor hit you. Iron. TWACK something slides from the living room to your feet. It was a head, YOUR NURSE'S HEAD! You opened your mouth to scream when a gloved hand silenced you. You stiffened as you hear a familiar voice.

Quiet my patient, you don't want to be framed for murder, do you? They were breaking the rules so I must punish them. The rule being one must never harm the spouse of the Red Queen!

Trey Clover:

Yo can you imagine though?

Your sweet town baker feeding you treats he made with love and your ex-boyfriend's flesh and blood (don't worry you'll only taste it a little). All with loving golden eyes and a knowing smile.

After some time in the big city for college, Trey moved back to his hometown to take over his family bakery. He is immediately accepted by the community at large for his amiable and brotherly aura. In no time at all the bakery becomes popular to people outside of the town as well (particularly cannibals and other shady characters).

People come to the front for sweet treats and are led into the back to become the fresh ingredients. Trey mostly murders people that come from out of town and tourists, people the town folk won't miss. However sometimes he has to make do with the outsiders within the town. Anything to feed his clients and himself.

Let's say that you moved to this small town of Bakersfield (name of town) for a fresh start in life, leaving your toxic family and manipulative ex-boyfriend. You decided leaving the city would allow you to escape your problems (plus there were serial killers loose, you didn't want to be beheaded or killed on tape). You like the idea of being part of a small tight knit community that work as one big family. However, you were disappointed when the community greeted you with a cold shoulder. Already your thought new life was going to be a disaster until you met Trey.

Trey met you when you visited his bakery, he doesn't remember seeing your face around (he wonders what you would taste like). He turns on his customer service smile and greets you kindly. Your glum expression immediately turns into a cheery grin. That's strange he kind of likes making you smile. You order one of his special desserts, which he whips up fresh just for you and your beautiful smile (men have pretty smiles too male readers, if I have any).

You end up coming to the bakery pretty often, not only for the sweets but the charming baker who works the front counter. You're surprised that he's single because you think he's quite handsome and kind. You gotten a tiny crush for the man who serves you pastries with a smile, and gives you back your money claiming your presence is enough. Trey put you in such a good mood that you brought some of the extra sweets for your neighbors and actually started making connections with the town's folk.

Trey saw you becoming more welcome with the townspeople and that left a sour taste in his mouth. He had to bite his lip to the point of bleeding to prevent himself from scowling when you rambled about how nice everyone has been. He was the first person to be nice to you and this is how you treat him? Looks like he'll have to play dirty to get back into your good graces. He may or may not have found the number of your old abusive ex and revealed your location. He knows that its wrong, but he'll make it up to you by being your protector.

Soon enough you'll only depend on him

This man was sick. No person you met could look at you so lovingly while bashing your ex's head in with a crowbar. This psycho killed people and ate them and was forcing you to play a twisted form of house. The chain around your leg reminded you of this fact. Every. Single. Day. "Open up my love, you're losing weight far too much, I can't have you wasting away." You look the devil who called himself your husband in the eyes and glared weakly. "I won't eat anything you make!" Trey laughed callously at your scorn. "It's funny that you think you have a choice." A rough hand grasps your jaw while the other pushes its way inside. You knew better than to bite his fingers, pain was a cruel teacher. The spoon of stew lays in your mouth and the hand holding your jaws puts more pressure on it causing you to whimper.

"If you swallow, you won't have to stay in the cold and lonely basement. Won't that be nice, sweet pea, you'll get to sleep in our nice warm bed. Only if you're a good for me and swallow.

Cater Diamond (longest one by far)

Hoo boy, this dude also is prime slasher material.

We'll keep the backstory of overbearing sisters and constantly moving due to his dad's job. This wore on his psyche harshly and made him more shut off from the rest of his family. Of course, his family only started caring when his grades start to slip. He was diagnosed with depression and ADHD. The medication only helped him get better at faking being happy and carefree all the time. His life allowed for him to become a very good liar and mask emotions very well. When in high school and during his current adult life social media was his one safe place where he could feel happy. Everything was fake and that gave him comfort that others people's lives were probably as miserable as his. He perfected his camera work and putting on a cute face for his audience and became quite a successful instaounce model (haha I made it more American) and influencer. When Cater graduated (barely) he refused to go to college and instead focused on pursuing his dreams of becoming a full-time influencer.

While Cater may seem cute, sociable, and relatable online, he also is jealous, vindictive, and murderous offline. He sees other people who are pretty and popular as a threat to his online presence, and threats must be eradicated. Enter his other pastime on the internet, streaming himself torturing and killing popular people on social media for an eager and sadistic audience. He goes by the username Killer_Diamond 💎💎♦️ and has millions globally bid to see who's suggested method of torture will be expertly carried out by Cater's creepily cheerful persona.

For this we'll say you're the cute new barista at an aesthetically pleasing cafe Cater frequents for coffee pics. You greet Cater with the same positive energy he exudes. He orders a very complicated coffee, and you create the coffee right the first time. No one in all the time he's been here has gotten his order to his high standards. Why are you so special? It almost makes him frown how flawlessly you completed his order, but your genuine smile makes the sides of his fake grin wobble. How could you so openly and freely be happy?

Let's say that you were adventurous and decided to peruse the dark web for some spooky content to sate your curiosity. When you stumble into a red room by accident. What you saw horrified you a person who you recognize as some model your friend gushes about being hot was being tortured as the live chat was filled with other horrific suggestions as what else to do to her. You felt bile come into your mouth as you saw the person in a bunny mask rip the model's eye out, causing her to scream loudly. The bunny mask turns back to the camera and chirps "Ooh a new person tuned in, say hello to them." You slam your laptop shut and lay awake in bed all night.

Cater felt like he had a new pep in his step, humming to himself a popular song he made his way to the cafe. Murdering always cleared his head and helped him destress, much more affordable than therapy. He greets you with a genuine zeal to see you, poor thing with large eyebags and a shell-shocked expression. He didn't like seeing you so disturbed. He asked you what was wrong, only for you to fake a cheery expression and ask him for his order. Cater knew you didn't trust him, so he'd have to befriend you if he wanted you to speak. Perhaps even kill the person who made you so upset.

Wait kill? Why did he care what happened to the person who upset you?

Cater offers you to sit and have a coffee with him, you try to explain that you're still on shift but Cater doesn't hear it and sits down beside you. Cater knows how to keep a conversation going and knows just the right things to say to make you more trusting of his intentions. He's a bit irritated that you still won't tell him why you're upset, but no worries he'll get you to open up.

You were losing sleep over the murder you saw take place. It had been weeks ago, but you still could see that eye on the tip of that knife. Should you call the police? No, the murderer might be able to trace it back to you. What on Earth are you going to do? Your phone pings notifying you that Cater or Cay-Cay as he prefers you to call him was messaging you.

Hey babe<3

Found this cute little hole in the wall sushi place, thought it'd be good for you to come and eat some food with Cay-Cay😘💕

Well, you'd always have Cater.

On my way Cay!

Cater has never felt love before. His family meant nothing to him, and he would never reach out to a fan in distress. However, you were perfect, so sweet and friendly. He felt like he could hide his murder stream from you and just pretend to be your normal loving boyfriend. He felt a blush come to his face at the thought of you being officially his partner. You'd take so many cute couple photos! However, you were too cute for your own good, attracting boys, girls, and others by being your sweet little self. It's not fair that you're so charming that other people want you! THIS WILL NOT STAND! Cater ramps up the murders and even ignores his chat pleading for him to drag them out longer. He just needs you to see that he's your perfect match, even if he must kill the ones, you love and isolate you.

No matter what happens Cater will have a place in your heart. Even if he gets that place by killing.

You were terrified, one night of drinking away your sorrows and now you woke up to total darkness. You tried to feel you way out, but your hands were bound behind your back. Oh god you've been kidnapped! You were going to die! A blinding light turns on revealing a luxurious room with red walls. Oh, seven this was the red room you saw! The person with the rabbit mask walks to the camera which was pointed at you. "Hello again my lovely viewers today I have a very special guest, my lovely!" You shake as tears fill your eyes; you try to scream but the tape covering your mouth prevents you. "Ah, ah, dear, wait till we get home to let out those pretty screams. My audience is not allowed to hear them." Another spotlight lands on a terrified friend of yours who you remember vanished a few days ago. They looked to be in rough shape. The rabbit figure bounced on their heels and walks very close to you with his back to the camera. "Before we start, I'd like to give my co-star a quick kiss for good luck. The figure takes the mask off and you gasp at the familiar face of you friend Cater.

"I know it's not the real thing, but I'll kiss you right on the tape. Oh, don't cry darling you'll have all of Cay-Cay later tonight. For now, we have an audience to entertain!

Deuce Spade:

Bro's literally just Jason Vorhees and Bubba Sawyer I mean come on, a puppy dog like killer who listens to the dead voice of his mother and you only.

Let's say Deuce was raised alone with his mother in the woods, his mother only leaving him to go gather supplies in the town. His mother had to raise him on her own and instilled in him a fear and hatred towards outsiders. Due to his mother raising him by herself and him never attending school, he isn't very educated and had delayed speech. His mother died when he was ten making him officially go crazy and hallucinate his mom still being with him. He's a hermit who lives off the woods and kills anyone who steps foot on his property.

You were a case worker who found a case of a woman who "abandoned" her child in the woods. Weird it's been swept under the rug for twelve or so years. Well, you weren't one to heed the warning of other case workers who begged you not to go. You weren't going to let some child continue to be neglected.

Deuce was going through the motions of his routine. Waking up, dressing, putting on his mask, kill something for breakfast, cook it, and he was currently repairing the small cabin. His mother had gone silent for some time, and it was worrying Deuce. Did his mother abandon him? A loud noise shakes Deuce out of his thoughts, as a terrifying metal monster approaches the house. Mother what do I do?

You drive your car through the woods towards the address on the file. Weird there's no official road up to the house nor any signs signifying that you are going in the right direction. Suddenly an item came hurtling towards your wind shield causing you to scream in terror. Holy shit is that an axe?! You hear a figure thunder up towards you and you scream in terror. A lanky blue haired man with a hockey mask covered in blood grabs the axe from the windshield and raises it above your head. You are prepared to ram the car into his body until he freezes.

Deuce what are you doing? A familiar feminine voice reproaches in his ear. His mother didn't want him to kill the trespasser? Mother I'm getting rid of the trespasser, like you've taught me. A ghostlike pinch formed on his cheek. Why would you try and kill your spouse that I handpicked just for you? After I put all that effort in Deucy you're still so ungrateful! Deuce grunts as he puts a hand up to his masked cheek. No mother I am grateful...they're actually quite attractive. Then stop wasting time and grab them before they drive away!

You scream as a hand breaks through your window and tries to pull you out of your car. You frantically swat at the hand that pulls you out of the driver's seat and places you over his shoulder. You kick and scream as he walks back to the cabin with you in tow, it was insulting how easy he managed to pick you up (Deuce is super strong in this, so fat readers you weigh nothing to him). You didn't want to die before finding the kid. "Hey, let me go, I need to find this kid named Deuce Spade!" The hulking figure freezes.

You are now being held off the ground and, in his arms, (if you're tall your feet are dragging) looking you dead in the eye. You try to maintain calm but who the hell would maintain calm when this muscular hermit is mouth breathing directly on you. The figure takes his mask off to reveal a handsome yet scared face of a man with blue hair, that looked a little too familiar. "Mother was right, you really are made for me." You open your mouth to protest when a pair of rough lips make contact with yours. You pound his firm chest with your fist, to no avail. The man pulls back to look at you with lovesick eyes and a heavily flushed face. "I'm Deuce Spade and mother said you are mine. How wonderful it is to have someone else in the family now!" Oh, geez what have you gotten yourself into.

Ace Trappola:

I heavily dislike Ace, like he rubbed me off the wrong way when we first met him in the game. I know everyone is supposed to be a villain but for someone who's one of our best friends he likes to insult us a little too much (more than the actual ex-bully). I'll try to do my best besides the biased (there are others who I didn't like on first meeting but grew to like).

Ace Trappola and you are childhood friends to your families. To you he's been a monster hell bent on torturing you till the day you die. He'll play the sweet golden boy next door to your parents, asking politely if you're home. Your parents sacrifice you to the demon in front of you to "play". They always blame you for the scratches and bruises you have after the "play date". He always gives you the same sadistic grin when others aren't watching.

Ace is a messed-up boy who wants to make you scared of him. He thinks it's funny when you cry in pain as he tugs your hair or punches you in the face. You're so much weaker than him and that gives him a high like no other. When puberty hit however, you grew much taller and stronger than Ace and wouldn't be pushed around anymore. When he brought a knife to school to scare you, you beat him to a bloody pulp. Something changed in him when you stood over him, once docile eyes filled with rage. It was kinda hot not gonna lie.

Ace goes from the bully to a psycho who stalks you constantly. You must have hit him too hard because instead of wanting to hurt you, he's hurting others who try and be around you. You think he's disgusting every time he groans when you hit him to get him to stop following you. Ace gets taken away to a psyche ward after the Senior Prom massacre. Let's say he didn't take to kindly to you asking someone out to the prom who wasn't him and killed almost every senior in your class including your date. You were the one who knocked him out for the cops to take away. His and your parents were distraught as they never thought an angel like Ace could do something so terrible. You were just glad you'd never have to see him again.

You moved on with your life and worked your way through college getting a degree in your dream field and meeting someone nice. Unfortunately, nothing goes your way as news broke out that an escaped mental patient had fled after a transfer to the mental institution in the town you were in. Ace knew where you planned on going to college and meticulously planned a way to get there so you can be reunited.

You were having a quiet night in, house sitting for a relative who lived nearby. You had ordered some pizza and put on some horror movies. You were watching Hallow's Eve (spoof on Halloween) when the doorbell rang. Must be the pizza guy. To your horror a familiar red head was at the front door in a blue mechanic suit holding a kitchen knife and was drenched in blood. "Hiya (Y/N) hope ya didn't miss yer boyfriend too bad? Cause I missed you a lot. You promptly slamed the door in his face. You don't have time for this.

Mwah different horror tropes hope you liked it. Now that I think about it, Ruggie and Leona or Ace and Deuce would make a pretty good Billy and Stu. Love ya bye!

[tim-shii]

📱 break the internet !

sypnosis: you, blue lock boys and tiktok trends. what could possibly go wrong?

features: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin

a/n: not proofread i apologize also let me know if you want a part 2 !

okokokok / lalalala — isagi yoichi

isagi is the lalalala and the okokokok. he is both. he rambles to you a lot. talking about the things he passed by while on the way to you or maybe he'll talk to you about his most recent game where he scored the last goal. you don't know a lot about soccer? that's okay! isagi is more than happy to discuss to you how the game works and the terms commonly used on the field. 

however, isagi is also a great listener. he looks at you and focuses only at you as you talk. maybe you're complaining about your professor who loves torturing his students by assigning a new homework every hour. or perhaps you were telling him the latest gossip in the hollywood scene, god knows a new one pops up every two days, or maybe minutes. 

he's attentive to every word you say. and when you bring up the topic again another day, he butts in and smiles widely when you applaud him for remembering. it's like he has the key words and important notes listed in his head. of course, this also applies to everything you say in passing, whether you said it intentionally or not. 

on a monday morning, isagi will randomly knock at your door. a necklace in hand, one you mentioned during your date night five weeks ago.

heart photobooth — bachira meguru

bachira was the one who showed you the trend. braging in your shared room with a wide grin on his face before belly flopping beside you on the bed. he pushes the phone in your face, excitedly chanting let's do it! let's do it! so you say yes, of course. who can ever say no to him anyways.

he proposes to do three videos of the same trend. one with him doing the frames, another with you and one with both of you alternating to do the frames of four sides. you start off with being the frame. as you follow your arm along the line shown on screen, bachira runs around behind you trying to pose quickly as the timer before each snap is no longer than five seconds.

you laugh under your breath as bachira runs around, almost toppling over several times until he finally does. he slips on a lone sock laying on the ground and fell on his back. gasping, you run to his side and grab his face, silently muttering if he has a concussion or not. bachira only laughs at you then pulls you down with him, you head resting on his chest.

at the end you guys only got to film one video. but on the good side, said video went viral and many comments talk about how you two are such a cute couple and bullying the hell out of the sock bachira slipped on.

half and half heart on each other's cheeks — itoshi rin

convincing rin to do this was easy. just say you want a wallpaper and he's agreeing almost too immediately. he has thoughts of backing out when he sees you pull out a tube of lipstick though. he scoots closer when you usher him to. phone stood on a water tumbler, recording each passing second. 

you grab his face with one hand, turning so his left cheek is facing you. you drag the pigment in an almost c shape pattern along his chiseled features. smooshing your cheek with his as soon as the lipstick leaves his face. he grunts as he was taken aback, grabbing on your waist for support. he looks at you with a love in his eyes when you pull away and saw a matching c shape mark on your cheek. 

reaching out to stop the video, you pull rin closer to you again. this time, angling his face so a heart forms in between you two. seeing you struggle to take the photo, rin takes the phone into his arms and stretched out his arm, clicking it after. he pulls away from you to admire the picture. exiting the camera app and opening his contact to send the picture to himself at that very moment. he kisses your cheek while you're editing the video, chin propped up on your shoulder, warm breaths hitting your neck.

unfortunately, his teammates saw the video going around tiktok and constantly spams his phone. best believe, the only thing they're receiving from him is his cold shoulder and death glares. he's happy he has a new lockscreen though. and a cute one at that.

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[monayen]

Ouuu maybe something where Sebastian finally snaps ( ´ ▽ ` )

there is like no fics about him x reader!

Hungry | Sebastian

➷ Paring - Sebastian x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - Noncon, fingering, choking, breath play, rough, mental break, unsafe sex

a/n - sometimes it hits me that im writing freakiness with a character who has de tomato smith chicken legs in his name. yes i'm still writing... inbox open for any requests or ideas, i love to see them still :3 (oh and if you like charlie from smiling friends i have a fic uploaded on my ao3)

Sebastian doesn't know how long it's been since he's had a good meal. His stomach aches for something delicious, and he can feel how his body slightly trembles at the growing malnutrition.

He's gotten used to a lot of things since his “adoption”, but hunger isn't one of them. The mush Randal attempts to give is questionably edible (and probably not safe for the human body) and Luther believes a “sustainable” mixture of bland, flavorless ingredients is enough to satiate.

The pressure in his head can also be accredited to Randal’s voice. He's lost track of what he's rambling about today. Something about ghosts, he deduces, and he much prefers not to listen. He just wants to go to sleep, he really does, but his throat itches and he's reminded that Randal has neglected once again to refill his water bowl. 

“Can I, uh, get some water?” Sebastian asks, interrupting the trainwreck-train of thought spewing out of Randal’s mouth. “I thought you got water like three days ago! You thirsty boy.” Randal cocks his head to the side and Sebastian can only sigh in response.

“I need it every day. Food and water every day.” It's fruitless to try to get him to remember, but his lightheadedness is getting worse, and he just wants to be properly taken care of. 

Randal shrugs, turning his focus to one of his dolls, tugging at the flimsy cloth arm before it completely rips off. A dark, small thing crawls out of the fluff, and immediately scampers into a vent in Randal’s room. He doesn't note it and tosses the torn doll to a shadowy corner in his room, probably not to be seen again.

“Eh, go ask someone else.”

Sebastian doesn't waste time to exit the room, already cycling to the next person who could actually listen to him. He grits, the ache growing in his stomach and head becoming almost unbearable. 

He just needs to find you, which… he doesn't actually know where you are. As much as he’s tried to understand this house, it's complicated and confusing. It brings him back to his thoughts of you. 

You're everything this house isn't.

You’ve been here longer than him, listed as one of Luther’s pets. However, you’ve seemed to actually gain some independence from that. Different from the adherents that are Nyen and Nyon, instead being more akin to a housemate. 

You also don't seem to have any of the… oddities that everyone else has. No crude whiskers or unblinking eyes. You’re allowed your own wardrobe, nothing like the frills and puffs he has to wear. It's almost taunting how pretty and kempt you are.

It’s actually a bit interesting how Luther could allow this, but he assumes you pull your own weight enough to be well fed and unbothered. Sebastian scoffs, how fortunate is that?

Both of you haven't actually interacted that much, and it only serves to add to that untouchable status he's framed around you.

You are in your own world, independent and capable of leaving. But you don't. You continue to stay and wander around the house without a care. While Sebastian is stuck as a poor entertainer at for a bizarre young man, scrambling for any chance of freedom.

Despite this, you don't actually torment him in any way that matters. His envy does run deep, but you're the closest thing to a saving grace right now. He knows the catmen don't really care, and Luther might just shoo him away like the nuisance he is.

Finally, after checking room after room, he spots you sitting on a vintage leather couch with an unmarked book resting on your lap that definitely would be hard to read with how dim the lights are. 

He hovers in the doorway, unsure how to start a conversation. His eyes also don't know where exactly to look, do you realize your skirt is riding up?

You beat him to say something, looking up at him through your lashes, “Hi Sebastian. Do you need something?”

You're as courteous as ever, offering a small smile that doesn't help at all to calm Sebastian’s nerves. 

“Do you have anything to eat?”

You set aside your book and give him a look he can't place. Now up and off your seat to get closer to him, he can see how your brows furrow and lips purse. Suddenly, soft hands grip at the side of his face, and he stammers reactively.

“God, you look terrible. You poor thing.” It comes out sickly sweet, the proximity only heightening the warmth spreading over his freckled face. 

“I–I know…” He sighs, not moving from your touch, “Please, can you just feed me?” 

It sounds pathetic, but at this point he's practically begging for something, anything from you. He relaxes when he hears you giggle, hands leaving his face. 

He sees you walk over to the nightstand drawer beside the couch, rummaging through it before pulling out… a stick of jerky and a juice-pouch, setting it on top in all it's glory.

It isn't much, but it's enough for Sebastian to practically salivate and let out a sound of relief. It could be stale for all he cares, as long as he can taste the added sugar and salt, he’s happy. He almost wants to jump into your arms and thank you.

“Ah, that's perfect–”

You cut him off, a smile planted on your face, “What are you going to do for it?” 

It catches Sebastian completely off guard, mouth agape, “What?” 

You don't falter at all, sitting on the couch as you stare at Sebastian’s shaking figure, “C’mon, you play with Randal all the time, don't you? How about we play something?” 

Sebastian doesn't know how to respond. He's tired, hungry, and growing frustrated. Your voice stays sweet and it provokes a realization, how stupid is it to think you of all people could give him some slack? You aren't any different than the rest of these weirdos, no matter how you hold yourself. 

His stomach growls on cue, and Sebastian can't seem to shake this feverish feeling anymore.

You notice the lack of a response, his face shaded by the dim lighting. Deciding to only poke him further, “...Unless, you aren't really that hungry.”

You don't realize how his fists ball on the side of him, teeth slightly gritting to push out his words, “Just give it.” 

A small laugh leaves your grinning mouth, teasing and like nails on a chalkboard to Sebastian’s ears, “Ooo,” You sing, “feisty!” 

Sebastian’s nostrils flare for a second, seemingly thinking something. He’s red, and his lips tremble ever so slightly. You stare intensely as he pauses and huffs before making his way towards the nightstand. 

“Another time.” He simply states, an unrecognizable irk coating his words. You don't allow this, grabbing his arm as he reaches out for the food.

“I said,” The same saccharine smile stays across your face, “what are you going to do for it?

A switch almost seems to flip in Sebastian’s brain. You don't get to comment on the deep redness that adorns his cheeks, before he suddenly grips you by your shoulders and pins you down on the couch.

Yelping, you trash against his grasp as he hovers over you. He's breathing heavily, his chest drumming up and down as you push your hands against it.

“W-wait!” Sebastian doesn't care about what you have to say. It's all stupid words, stupid words out of your pretty mouth. His head is still reeling, and he doesn't know where the strength to keep you down is coming from.

All he knows is that he's the one with control right now. Something he hasn't had for a long time.

“Stop moving!” He huffs, eyes wide as he grasps the bottom of your shirt and bra, flipping it up to expose you.

His movements are almost thoughtless, as if a ghost possessed him to cup your breast and snake fingers between your thighs. Thoughtless doesn't make it any less rough, and soon enough your bottom half is exposed too.

“Listen, Sebastian, you– you can just have it! I was only messing around!” You try to excuse yourself, but his hand remains groping at your body like you're the first soft thing he's had to hold in forever.  As if you're going to be ripped away from his hands at any second. 

His erection pokes at your pinned down hip, the fabric of his outfit practically straining him. “I don't listen to you.” Sebastian spits, nor loud or quiet. 

It's directly for you to hear.

More words sprew from his mouth. “You think you can just taunt me? Mess with me? Like everyone else?” They come out faster than you can respond, jaw hanging open to croak out any excuse. 

“Shut up, I don't wanna hear it.” He suddenly moves and flips you over onto your stomach, head pressed down onto the aged leather of the couch, hands forced behind your back.

“I need this.” Those words are whispered to himself, low and dark. If you could look at him directly in the face, you’d see the cloudy look overcasting his eyes, the sweat that builds on his forehead, and the furrow of his brows as he looks at your figure. The dim room isn't enough to hide you.

All you can see is leather and flipped strands of hair in your vision. Instead you can only focus on the sound of his deep, shaky breath. Along with the sound of him shuffling to remove his own clothes. He moves on top of you, lanky body pressing against your behind, practically caging you. So close that it's hard to thrash around. And even if you could, you'd only be pushing up against him more.

You gasp when he puts his skinny fingers between your thighs, spreading you apart with a swift motion. Sebastian doesn't waste any time in pushing his fingers inside of you, hunched over as he continues to whisper to himself.

The pounding of your heart is loud in your own ears, you're sure he can hear how it patters against the couch more when he decides to curl his fingers. You whine, almost unintentionally arching at how good it shouldn't feel. But it does, and he knows because he lets out a laugh, “You like this?” It sounds both mocking and genuine.

The leather muffles you, but you manage to moan out a “No–” to which Sebastian seethes at. He leans into your ear, fingers still pumping into your heat. “Don’t lie. You– you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't.” 

You’re unsure if Sebastian is trying to convince himself or you. The slight waver in his voice pairs with the hastiness of his fingers, itching to draw out more moans from your mouth. It’s impossible to ignore the several digits Sebastian pumps into you, him noticing how your thighs begin to quake and muscles tighten around his fingers. As quickly you're brought to the edge, Sebastian retracts. You whine at the now empty sensation, practically huffing like a brat. You don't even realize. Now his hand grips at your side of your hips, your own wetness uncomfortable on your skin. 

“Maybe you’ll like this more.” Sebastian whispers, prodding at your entrance with this length. It’s hard to speak with how he continues to push your head down into the cushion, though any denial would fall on deaf ears even if you could. He slips in too easily, practically bottoming out the second your tightness wraps around him.

Sebastian is all too loud, words and moans mixing into pure nonsense. You wonder why nobody has heard anything yet. The door isn’t even locked. He doesn't care at all it seems, too engrossed in the feeling inside you to even consider the consequences of being caught. 

Sebastian’s hand on the back of your head releases, and you think maybe he’ll let you turn. Maybe you’ll actually be able to scream properly for Luther with air properly filling your lungs and mouth not pressed against leather. He isn’t slowing down at all though, his hips snapping roughly against your ass. A hand snakes around the back of your throat and squeezes, your heart dropping at the growing pressure on your windpipes. 

Sebastian's grip on your throat tightens, the need to claim something, anything, overtaking him. He's spent. He's so close, and he's not about to stop now. He's on the brink, and the feeling of you tightening around him, the way you're almost helpless under him, only serves to push him further.

You can't breathe, your eyes widening frantically, and the only thing you can manage to do is grip the couch. The lack of air is making your vision blur as Sebastian continues to thrust into you, not seeming to notice or care. Your mind begins to swim, the dim room now spinning in your vision.

It's a terrifyingly intense sensation, being so close to the edge yet being choked, the mix of pleasure and pain leaving you feeling dizzy. Your body betrays you, arching and pulsating at the rapid thrusts. Croaking out whatever air left in your lungs, you come with a shudder, your muscles gripping Sebastian’s cock as he continues to pound into you.

Sebastian follows with a guttural moan, thrusts becoming more erratic as he reaches his own climax, shooting into you. The hand around your throat tightens momentarily, before finally releasing, sending you gasping for air. He practically collapses on top of you, his own breath heavy. 

He still holds you against the couch, though you wouldn't have the strength to move him to begin with. You feel the shuffle of him getting off on top of you, finally pulling out with a small groan and letting you at least get onto your side. He now lays beside you, body wrapped over yours. The couch barely fits you both, all you can feel is the heat of both your bodies and the sensation of wetness dripping between your thighs. 

Sebastian nuzzles against you like a baby. He looks exhausted, eyes shut and brows furrowed. You look to find any empathy—any guilt. It isn't there. If anything, he looks content. As if you both will stay like this forever. 

“You're right.” He murmurs, a soft rasp in his voice you aren't used to. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

[samijey]

Corey Graves with the foreshadowing of all time in this old episode of Smackdown (February 19th, 2021)

Let's talk about this episode, shall we? Because the Sami & Jey dynamic is really interesting in retrospect

Let's talk about how this episode accidentally focuses on the samijey dynamic way before it became "a thing" - remember these were HEEL Jey and Sami - they were both at their lowest points, with Jey at his most volatile and aggressive (still reeling from his defeats against Roman) and Sami being an annoying, paranoid mess (this was shortly before the whole Johnny Knoxville thing).

At the start of the show, Sami interrupts a segment between Edge and Roman (the "real" top feud going on in SD at that time, if you'll remember - oof pandemic era) and immediately starts rambling, which Roman ignores, Edge laughs at and Jey just watches looking equal parts confused and curious:

man literally got the 🤔 going on

that was until Sami got the camera crew involved and started yelling into the microphone, at which point Jey lost patience and superkicked him - look at his face when he turns around to look at the camera guys he's soooo annoyed

classic samijey angst shot before it was a thing i'm just sayin'

Sami rolls to the outside after the superkick so Edge and Roman can resume their thing - and what does Jey keep doing during the rest of the segment? stare at Sami on the outside, of course

he just keeps doing it for no apparent reason

even while they're all making their exit, Jey's in the back of the shot staring at Sami, who's still down (lol at his little head popping up in the right corner of the frame)

cut to the main event tag match of heels Sami, Jey & Corbin vs babyfaces Daniel, KO and Cesaro. Immediately as Jey makes his entrance he and Sami start bickering

that's when you have that great line from Corey Graves about sparks flying (talk about foreshadowing lmao)

also let's talk about how Sami gets in Jey's face but Jey doesn't look phased by it and looks weirdly relaxed as he responds with "I got you"

they go on to bicker during the match, of course

but to also be the only two people to work together (we even pause the match at one point to have a classic "angry" tag spot between them)

and to put a cherry on top, they are also the only 2 to save the other from getting pinned

it's fun to see that even over a year before Sami famously approached Roman to officially kickstart the Sami in the Bloodline story arc, these two were already gravitating towards each other on a random episode of Smackdown 🤧🤧 it makes for really funny (unintentional) foreshadowing

[hayleylatour]

Finding Peace 🕊️

Content warning-none yet, some smut soon. Future talks of pregnancy and options. (Time frame is 2021 into 2022) this is also my first fan fiction since Wattpad 2014!

Summary- Mia is a 24 year old new bookstore owner who’s best friend is dating the drummer of up and coming metal band Bad Omens Nick Foilo. Jess is known for trying to set Mia up on blind dates. What happens when Mia meets Noah Sebastian

Pairings- babydaddy!Noah Sebastian x OC (Mia)

Chapter One- Mia's pov

"Mia babes you gotta come to this party, its Halloween, plus is kinda a party for Nick's friends birthday" Jess begged me. looking at my phone screen to see her pleading pout and batting eyes. rolling my eyes I simply nod in agreement, knowing if I don't at least make an appearance I will never hear the end of it.

"I'll come but I really don't want you trying to set me up with one of Nick's friends. I'm happy being single okay Jess" I say putting the last of the coffee mugs in the cabinet. "I'm just wanting to focus on getting the hell out of the shit hole apartment and getting this damn shop done and ready for opening”

"Okay okay I promise! No trying to set you up, but can I just say these guys are HOT, babes its been forever since you've gotten laid, have a few drinks and see where the night takes you, I'm not saying you have to date or marry one of them but who knows you might really hit it off with someone" Jess continues to ramble but I lose focus on her words when I start thinking about the last time I got laid. damn its be awhile the last time was probably 6 months ago... shit she's right I need to get laid, like yesterday.

"fine. is this a costume party or can I wear normal clothes" I sigh while picking up my phone and walking to the couch to sit down.

After awhile of chatting with Jess, we hung up our daily hour long face time. deciding to get up and start getting ready for jess party. Pulling the shower curtain open I start the water, warming it while I do some quick skin care. I cant help but think about what jess said, its been so long since I've gotten laid.

"That's it, if one of these guys is as attractive as she says, you're going to fuck him, you hear don’t chicken out. have a drink, relax and blow off some steam" I blurt out looking at my reflection, pep talks never work but dammit if I was determined to make myself believe it.

after my shower I blow dry my hair and decide on a low bun before starting my makeup, keeping everything simple and clean, with a light brown dusting over my lids and a shimmery highlight in my inner corner, finishing it off with a quick winged liner. I make my way into the bedroom to throw on a pair of skinny jeans and my favorite bring me the horizon hoodie topping the look off with black vans and making my way downstairs to my car and off to Jess and Nick's house.

there's 4 cars in the driveway when I pull in, Jess and folios included. throwing my car in park I do a once over in my review mirror. as headlights shine illuminating my car, looking over I see a tall man step out and make his way up the drive. stopping he looks at me through the windshield. I've seen him in pictures before. Noah- Folios friend and band mate. dressed in tight black jeans and a while shirt topped off with a leather jacket, Noah makes his way inside the house. now or never Mia. make your move.

"Hey Noah, wait up!" I yell exiting my car and jogging up the drive. He quickly turns on his heel and smiles down at me as I reach him, Standing at least a foot taller than me. Fuck he’s taller in person. “Lead the way” He says extending his arm towards the door.

“MIA! You made it” Jess squeals detaching herself from folios side, everyone seems to stop talking and turn their attention to the screaming. “Ah I see you met Noah, happy birthday by the way.” Jess winks at me

“Hey Jess, can I talk to you for a minute” i mutter pulling her into a hug. She nods and leads us to her bedroom. Once away from the crowd i start to explain my plan to her. I’ll have a drink and hang out and be open to the idea of hooking up with someone, failing to mention Noah’s name and how when he looks at me my heart beats a little faster. Jess tells me that if it happens it happens but she thinks i need to blow off some steam and ‘what better way to do it than an orgasm?’

When we emerged from the second floor the guys are standing in the kitchen around a box of pizza. Noah has his back to me but I can see his shoulder length hair is tucked between his ears. Their laughter fills to house which makes relaxing into the evening a little easier.

“So Mia, what do you do for work exactly? Jess was telling us you worked at a bookstore.” Jolly asks leaning forward to set his bottle on the table.

“Yeah kinda, I own the shop down on 17th, ‘Ellie’s’ my grandma left it to me in her will, I’ve been renovating it since lockdown started. But now since everything is opening back up. I’m hoping to have a reopening around mid November. Fingers crossed, I’m still working on getting the last of the furniture out of storage.” I explain sitting up a little straighter.

“That’s so cool we’ll have to come see it sometime” Ruffilo says everyone chiming in with an agreement. The party goes on just as this. Sitting on the sectional till I notice it’s getting closer to midnight, I should probably head home and get some much needed sleep. Jolly and Ruffilo have already said their goodbyes, and Jess has gone to bed, leaving Noah, Folio and myself.

“Hey thank you so much for tonight, i think im gonna head out though.” I say standing from my seat. Nick and Noah stand as well.

“Yeah I need to head out to, I’ll walk with you. Tell Jess I said thank you and I’ll message you tomorrow” Noah says pulling him into a hug. “Mia you ready?”

“Uh yeah. I’m ready” I rush. Making our way down the driveway Noah suddenly stops, turning to look at him he smiles and reaches for my wrist.

“Ya know, Jess told me that you were wanting to hook up with someone tonight, and it is technically still my birthday if you want to im more than interested” he breathes pushing my back against the driver’s side door of my car.

“Your place or mine?” I whisper.

[lemonhemlock]

The episode where Rhaenys busts through the floor and murders countless smallfolk and it having absolutely no narrative consequences on the story or condemnation of Rhaenys' character, and the episode where Aegon murders the ratcatchers causing Otto to crash out have this whole monlogue about Aegon being The Worst being written by the same writer really tells you all you need to know about HOTD. And before you ask, yes, they were both written by Sara Hess lmao.

Yeah, I know there was discourse a while ago, because this dissatisfaction regressed into racist and misogynistic attacks directed at Sara Hess. Obviously, that's vile and people should, first of all, rid themselves of this despicable framework of viewing the world (because, as always, this is absolutely just another opportunity to dunk on a woman - these people don't care about good storytelling) and, secondly, learn how to actually formulate an argument that doesn't sound like the ramblings of a basement-dweller.

That being said, she is categorically not a good writer, there's no other way to put it. She can come up with some good ideas (or, at least, a glimmer of good ideas - for example, the daemyra argument in S02E02 was good - one of the season's highlights, actually) and her line-level writing is... adequate. But, on the whole, her record on House of the Dragon is littered with inaccuracies and logical fallacies. I haven't seen her other shows, but I decidedly have no desire to and will be actively avoiding if I see her name. And I am including Ryan Condal in this mess, too, because he has the ultimate say-so on how the scripts look. These two together truly are the blind leading the deaf.

I think the ratcatcher pity party was, in a way, a reaction to all the backlash she received for the Meleys dragonpit scene. But, instead of fixing her mistake and making it work in the context of what she had already written, she made some absolutely abysmal storytelling choices that defy common sense and contradict her own text. A very easy fix to this would have been to show the population of King's Landing become very anti- Meleys, Rhaenys and, by extension, Rhaenyra. But, of course, the wider narrative set by her genius colleagues was that KL couldn't possible have any negative feelings towards Rhaenyra, so it's completely swept under the rug and the commoners are made to consider Meleys' death a bad omen.

But, naturally, they had to do something about all the criticisms that they are not focusing on the negative effects this war has on the population. However, instead of showing that in a balanced way, they decided to pile all these evils on the greens again. Rhaenyra faces no backlash from the low-born for any of her actions. She does sacrifice them to Vermithor, essentially, by preventing their exit and it's framed as the beginning of her moral compromises and falling into self-aggrandizing behaviour. Yes. But where are the consequences to this? There are no consequences. These dragonseeds don't seem to have any family who are asking questions about them or blaming Rhaenyra for setting them on fire, basically. Not even one noble person hears of this and goes "hmmm that's kind of fucked up actually". Larys, the literal Master of Spies, who might have reasonably be shown to have found out this inside information via his network of spies, might have had some lines informing the green council about this awful thing Rhaenyra has done. Might have even informed the population, in order to turn them against her. But no, of course not, we can't have anyone actually be anti-Rhaenyra.

Meanwhile, we have close-ups of the fucking dog longing for the ratcatcher who literally kicked it in a previous scene. How do you even qualify the framing decision to invite the audience to feel sorry for a child-murderer? To feel more sorry for him than for the actual mother of said murdered child? We have Otto, of all people, lecturing Aegon about how over-the-top he is acting, because he executed a couple of ratcatchers. Otto, who, by the way, is shown in S01E09 to be executing people because they would not bend the knee to Aegon. Otto does not value commoner lives more than noble-borns (last season, he refuses to outlaw child pit fighting and, even in the previous episode, he gets annoyed by Aegon ruling too much in the smallfolk's favour), but he grows a temporary conscience for the purpose of this one scene, because we have to engineer another situation in which Aegon looks cruel or stupid (or both, preferably). Alicent's entire household was purged by Larys for supposedly being Mysaria's spies, the brothel was even set on fire and she gave zero fucks about that, but Aegon's ratcatcher execution is somehow one step too far.

I have said this before, but just thinking "civilians don't matter" in the ASOIAF universe betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of the themes and message. Can you ultimately be anything other than a "bad" writer if you miss the point to such a degree? And you can tell that's her true opinion about all this, because she can't write a storyline in which civilians do matter to save her life. The suffering of the lower classes only matters in her stories just as far as she can instrumentalize it to demonize the greens. She's not interested in any kind of systemic exploration, because that would also involve the blacks and it would interfere with Rhaenyra's hero framing. Like Ryan Condal, she doesn't have the chops to write beyond the hero-villain binary, hence all the flip-flopping and the retconning and the logical fallacies. And, at the end of the day, I can just watch a Marvel movie for that, you know?

[rosaline-black]

ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴅɪɢᴀɴ - ʀᴇᴍᴜꜱ ʟᴜᴘɪɴ

Category: Remus Lupin X fem reader

Summary: University muggle AU- Remus bumps into you in a lecture, like literally… and turns out you have a lot more in common than you originally had thought.

Freshers week had killed you. You knew uni was going to be night out mad but on mornings like this where you had an early lecture with a new class, you regretted going a little too hard with your flatmates.

“Y/n are you up?” Your flatmate lily called out creaking the door open, her ginger hair frayed, with dark circles making her eyes squint.

“Yep.. yep I’m up… what’s the time?”

“8:35…”

“SHIT!” Your class started in 25 minutes and you had only just woken up.

You managed to get dressed at the speed of light, a cozy cardigan and mom jeans being thrown on as quickly as possible. You fixed your wild hair and messily applied a little makeup to brighten your exhausted complexion.

You left the flat with ten minutes till class waving a quick goodbye to your friends before running to the lecture hall. Just as you got inside, with One minute to spare, a hard body collided with your own. All of your papers and your thermos that you’d been passed by your flatmate before you left, spilled everywhere the hot coffee staining your cream cardigan.

“Oh shit! Shit, I’m so sorry…” a very tall, mousy-haired boy turned around. He dove to the floor and collected your papers, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Your cardigan… I’m so sorry… I was heading to my seat and I didn’t see you there because I’m pretty tall you see and..and-”

“Calm down… I’m fine.. really just shhh…”

The mix of your now damp body, your banging headache, and this boy rambling all became a little too much as you rose your finger to his lips to shut him up. He immediately did as he was told and scrambled to give you your papers back.

As the lecturer entered everyone began getting seated, leaving you following after the boy, the only remaining seat being beside him. You could feel his guilty eyes planted on you as the lecture began.

“So you’re interested in literature huh?” His voice whispered.

“Yes, I am… I assume you’re the same?” You replied politely.

“Yes.. look I know you told me to shhh but I feel really bad about me being a clumsy wanker…”

You couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips, another smile falling on his face.

“I’m Remus… Remus lupin…” he offered his hand

“I’m y/n.. y/n l/n…” you shook his hand and then turned away, now paying your full attention to the lecture.

Once the lecture had ended a couple of hours later, you were practically drifting into slumber. The boy beside you had noticed and carefully tapped your arm, resulting in you springing your eyes open.

“Remind me to never go on another night out when I have a lecture the following morning…”

He chuckled deeply and nodded following after as you both exited the lecture hall. His eyes followed your figure as he finally got a chance to take in your beauty. The way your hair, although messy, fell ever so perfectly and framed your face, the way your eyes twinkled at the end of the summer sun, you were mesmerizing, it took everything in him to not throw himself in front of a car over the fact he had greeted you by throwing coffee on you.

“Right better get back to my flat..”

“Same here I’m headed this way…”

Remus pointed in the same direction as your flat and the two of you laughed walking with each other. Truthfully he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with this pretty stranger.

“Freshers is killing you then huh?” Remus attempted to continue the conversation.

“Yes, it is! My friends are insistent on going out every night… and I mean don’t get me wrong I love drinking but every night… I just want to sleep…” you giggled lightly.

“Yeah I can relate to that one… my friends are just as bad… I’m more of a casual pub guy I guess… clubs are just so busy!”

“I completely agree! And it’s always packed and gross and just… oh here’s my flat block…”

Remus’s eyes widened “you’re kidding…”

“Uh no I’m not…” you shook your head confused.

“This is my flat block too!”

Both you and Remus burst into laughter “do you live alone?”

“No I live with three other guys… we all went to school together… what floor are you?” Remus asked as both of you got into the lift.

“Four…”

“We’re on the same floor!? Are you sure we don’t live together…” he joked

“Unless you’re secretly a woman then I’m not too sure…” you teased

Once the lift dinged to your floor both exited and went to walk in opposite directions down the corridor “right well it was nice to meet you, Remus.. apart from the uh.. coffee..”

Remus blushed deeply again “sorry.. again… and yeah it was lovely meeting you… uh if you ever want to go for coffee that does result being thrown all over you then my flat number is 106…”

You couldn’t help but blush yourself and smiled “Mines 112… I’m usually just binge-watching the office and reading so feel free to knock whenever…”

Remus nodded a little too enthusiastically before they both reluctantly departed. Unknown to each other both of them immediately sighed after entering their flats. Both are already growing crushes.

“What’s her name?” Sirius asked as he attempted to throw popcorn into James’s mouth.

“She doesn’t by chance live with a redhead called lily? I met her in my classes and I think I’m in love…” James uttered dramatically.

Remus rolled his eyes and sat with his friends “I’m not sure I haven’t been over there yet… and we haven’t had a class together since… I don’t wanna be some creep who just turns up on her doorstep..”

“Why don’t we all go? We could bring them like a cake or something for housewarming purposes…” James suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“A cake? A fucking cake James? Oh yeah, nothing says raw sex appeal like a cake…” Remus countered sarcastically.

“Ooh, you have sex on your mind Mooney? Bloody hell I wanna see this girl come on…” Sirius announced springing to his feet and running out the door. Remus panicked and ran after him.

A knock on the door made you jump out of your skin. You were just dancing around in your kitchen to some Bowie and the loud bang halted you in your place.

Having just got out of the shower, it shocked you to have someone knock on your door so late in the evening, let alone when both your flatmates were out doing a food shop.

Apprehensively you opened the door and the site before you was pretty confusing. A guy with shoulder-length dark hair was leaning against the door frame with a smirk, while the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about was wide-eyed and panting behind him.

“Uh… hello?” You questioned

“Hello beautiful I’m Sirius… my friend here Remus said some girls lived down the hall and well I thought I’d introduce myself…” Sirius stated with a flirty smirk.

Remus looked completely horrified. The last thing he needed was his friend, who seemed to get any girl he wanted, going after the one girl he had taken a huge liking to.

“Well hello Sirius… my friends are currently food shopping so it’s just me… and hi Remus..” you said making a point of waving at the lanky boy who looked at a loss.

“We were out…” a female voice called out from behind the two boys. Lily and Marlene stood shopping bags in hand as they looked at the two boys judgmentally.

“Marlene.. lily this is Remus and Sirius…” you introduced opening the door wider so your two flatmates could pack away the shopping.

“Pleasure…” Marlene muttered sarcastically as she barged past the boys with lily following after.

“Is there something you wanted?” You asked politely realizing the two boys were still standing there.

“Well sorry y/n we were just… well he was-”

“What my dear pal Remus was trying to say is we’d love to come in.. have a couple of drinks get to know our new neighbours..” Sirius stated confidently.

You chuckled lightly and as your two friends simply murmured in agreement the two boys waltzed in, not before texting their over two friends to come and join in on the phone.

Turns out James and lily had met previously in one of their shared classes, the two of them chatted away happily. Marlene got along well with Sirius and Peter, she and Sirius bonded over their dating tips for men and women. This left you and Remus sitting together, both of you too nervous and awkward to start up a conversation.

“I see you got the stain out…” Remus’s voice called out after a prolonged silence.

You looked down at the cardigan you’d thrown on and smiled softly. It was the same one he’d stained with coffee just a few weeks prior.

“Yes I did.. was hard though I was going to knock on your door for the invoice..” you teased enjoying his gruff laugh.

“I know you hated me apologising but… I got you this as an apology…”

Remus rifled in his pocket for a bar of coffee flavoured chocolate. When he saw it he knew he needed to get it but just wasn’t sure when to give it to you.

Your eyes lit up at the site and you immediately threw your arms around him “This is my favourite chocolate brand!?”

“Me too!!” He said just as enthusiastically which made you chuckle even harder.

*********

The following months flew by with casual encounters and Remus doing everything to accidentally run into you. The annoying part was you were none the wiser, your friends however weren’t as oblivious.

Remus was currently doing his usual walk home, which consisted of walking past your apartment and loitering in the corridor just so he may be able to bump into you. Today however it wasn’t you he bumped into.

“Remus? Not loitering about again are you?” Marlene said rather bluntly as she left the flat.

“Oh no… I was just-”

“Save it… I know you’re mad for her and between me and you the feelings are mutual… so I’m going to help you…”

Remus was in shock but appreciated Marlene’s blunt attitude. He needed to take this into his own hands.

You had just come out of your last lecture for the day. Marlene had mentioned how no one was going to be home which was a little odd. But either way, you made your way home.

By the time you’d come up the stairs and gotten to the corridor where the entrance to your flat sat, it was clear what was going on.

There stood your favorite boy with a bouquet of flowers, a box of your favorite chocolates, and the cutest nervous smile you had ever did see. You were ready to grab him by the shoulders and snog him right then and there.

“Look y/n… I don’t think it’s too shocking by now to realise that I like you a lot… and if we could maybe… go out sometime… on a date, I’d be honoured…” Remus stated proudly. It was clear he’d rehearsed it in his head which to you made it even sweeter.

“Of bloody course…” you answered taking the flowers and chocolates and placing them on the ground. Remus furrowed his eyebrows and panic set in.

“Don’t you like them?”

“I love them… I can’t kiss you if there are flowers in your face though can I?”

“Guess not…”

Both of your cheeks were now hot with anticipation. You bent up and gently let your lips glide across his. You struggled not to smile throughout the kiss, it was so sweet and soft just like the boy before you

“About fucking time…” Marlene’s voice called out from the end of the hall. Unknown to you, all your new and old friends had gathered to watch the interaction. Sirius’s idea of course

[missbabyjay]

Spotlight - Pedro Pascal x F Reader

Cutesy Fluff for all my softies <3

MASTERLIST - CHECK OUT MY PAGE FOR MORE!

This was requested by my bubs @sunnythebunny7

Warnings/Content: Flufffffffffff, age gap, established relationship, pedro being a fckn sweety and a protector

Summary: You're attending you first press event with Pedro, nervous for the red carpet. Everything is going perfect until you run into a devilish reporter.

Word Count: 1.2 K

. . .

You took a deep breath as you patted down your silky fitted dress, softening the fine line wrinkles that glided across the fabric. Your nerves were getting the best of you; your heart rate was high, your tummy turned in circles, and your breathing was anything but at a regular pace. 

This was the first press event that you were attending with Pedro - your first press event ever. You were eager to be at Pedro’s side, you loved watching his interviews, so you were excited to experience them first hand. But you weren’t ready to be in the centre of the public eye - a very vulnerable position.

Pedro soft-launched his relationship with you just a brief few months ago - slowly introducing photos of you to his social media. You had a noticeable age gap that people tended to throw shade at. Hollywood loved to create drama, and beat down those they didn’t deem to be with those who were famous; average people - like yourself. But for the most part his fans loved you. They would create these cheesy edits of the two of you, in which you’d spend hours scrolling through. 

After countless conversations, the two of you agreed it was time to ignore the tabloids and chit-chat; Pedro wanted to show you off and that meant joining him at events and outings. 

“You look so beautiful, mi amor,” you lifted your eyes to see Pedro’s delicate gaze in the mirror, his chocolate brown eyes. You grinned, noticing he was draped in an all-black tux; his messy curls sitting freely, black frames placed upon his face. He looked oh-so handsome. 

You finished applying your satin lipstick before packing your makeup back into the small toiletry bag. Pedro watched, his eyes following your movements. He adored you and everything that you did; the way your nose scrunched as you laughed, the way you struggled to get your hair in the perfect bun, the way you so passionately rambled on about your favourite film, all of it. 

Pedro was beaming with excitement, he was longing to show you off to the world. He felt your tense structure as the two of you sat in the back of the limo. Your hand grasped his, squeezing every so often to remind yourself that he is in fact there with you.

“I’ll be right here baby, don't worry,” his reassuring words helped you, even if it was the smallest bit. You sipped at the thin, crystal clear flute that was filled with the bubbly and citrusy champagne provided by the limousine company. You were thankful for the liquor, trusting it would give you some liquid courage. 

You glanced out the shaded window as you arrived; bright lights and copious amounts of people were scattered outside of the venue. The bright, red, velvet carpet caught your attention, and as you looked at Pedro you felt a sense of calmness, even some excitement. 

His hand reached behind you, gently caressing your bare skin as he placed a tender kiss to your cheek. 

As you exited the limo you were struck with the commotion of the surrounding environment. The bright flashes of the cameras penetrated your vision, you brought your hand in front of your face, hoping to block the light as you looked at Pedro. Thrill was plastered across his face, he loved doing press events as he was such a chatty cathy, and that made you feel a bit better. You knew he’d lead the conversations and keep you close to his side. 

You made your way down the plush carpet, gaining a sense of confidence you had not experienced before; the reporters and photographers were lovely - they complimented your dress and had nothing but kind words to share. Nearby fans shouted your names, waving their hands and holding signs dedicated to Pedro. 

“See baby, they love you,” he cooed, bringing you close to him before planting a kiss on your temple. His constant embrace calmed you - the way he would keep his hand on your lower back, drawing small circles with his finger. 

“We’re not finished yet, so let’s not make any final assumptions,” you half-heartedly joked. 

The two of you made your way to the final reporter. After this you would journey into the beautiful and vast venue to enjoy the screening. You let out a breath, reposturing yourself before the interview began. “You’ve got this,” you thought to yourself. 

Although instantly you felt an off vibe; the reporter barely introduced herself to you - basically avoiding any eye contact with you. You weren’t the only one to notice, Pedro held you a bit closer feeling the need to protect you.

“So, your age-gap… that’s… interesting,” the reporter sneered, causing a pit of anxiety to grow in your abdomen. Your heart rate began to rise just as it did earlier in the night. You looked to Pedro for reassurance, trying to keep a calm and collected look on your face. 

“I-Uh, don’t really see how that’s all that relevant,” you awkwardly chuckled, butting into the conversation while trying to keep the conversation fun, but you felt it was quite out of pocket for her to say such a thing. It was exactly what you were worried about. Typically you weren’t a confrontation person; Pedro often helped you in those sorts of moments, but this time it was different.

“Well it’s all the talk. Everyone’s calling Pedro daddy,” she smirked at Pedro before continuing, “how’s that feel for you, huh?” Her tone was incredibly sarcastic, causing both you and Pedro to feel quite uncomfortable. Pedro shuffled his feet, so many thoughts running through his head as he didn’t prepare for such absurd questions. 

You couldn’t find the power to stop the tears that began welling in your eyes. You struggled to breath without choking up. You turned your body towards Pedro where his eyes met yours and he noticed your tearful eyes. Impatient fury began to grow in Pedro, he did not appreciate the tasteless words coming from the reporter. Sure, he played along with his fandom - but at the end of the day he was yours, and only yours. 

“Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to get at but you’re being flat out rude. I am proud of my girlfriend, and you have no place to be asking these things. We’re done here.” He waved his hand at the camera, huffing before proceeding to the small remainder of the carpet.

Pedro led you away from the woman, towards the large towering doors of the venue. You struggled to catch your breath, trying deeply to hold back the crocodile tears. You didn’t want to let your emotions get to you, but after such a good experience prior to that one vicious reporter, your pent up emotions got the best of you.

Pedro wrapped his large arms around you, bringing you close to his chest. He rested his head atop yours, “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “that was fucked.”

You pulled back from his embrace, his eyes meeting your tired, sad gaze. His thumb reached to wipe the tears from your raw cheeks. 

 “Let’s go home baby, it’s all right, I’ve got you.”

. . .

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future Part II, The Novel by Craig Shaw Gardner: Thoughts, commentary, and general ramblings

Part 2: Marty McGamblerPants

Previous posts here

• As Marty ventures into the Café 80s, a lot of what unfolds is pretty close to the movie, so not much to say there. There is an interesting line as Griff and Biff exit the café, though, where Biff says, “Listen, Griff, don’t you go loanin’ that McFly kid any money—even though he probably needs it, him and his old man both.”

I wonder: is he saying that just because he wants to take a dig at the state of the McFly family’s finances or because Griff has loaned money to Junior before? If he has, that’s quite the interesting thing to ponder considering I don’t see Griff as being the type to do much of anything out of the kindness of his heart, but I absolutely do see him loaning money to Junior just to be able to use it against him and force him into doing things.

• If I’m remembering correctly, Junior doesn’t actually say no to Griff in the café. He mentions it being dangerous, says he should discuss it with his father, and then eventually says okay once he’s thrown over the counter. Book Junior does say no, though, and he says it like this:

You know that’s Marty’s boy; he’s got nice manners just like his dad. I love Junior so much.

• When Marty gets approached in 2015 about saving the clock tower, the book notes that the guy asking for the donation is Terry. When Marty won’t donate the hundred dollars, Terry goes on to talk about how, back when the clock was struck by lightning, “—a hundred bucks was worth something.” He then points to Biff (who is across the street) and starts to talk about how Biff, “—tried to shaft me out of three-hundred bucks for fixing his car.”

I kind of wish they had included this context in the movie because it was only a handful of years ago that I realized the guy asking for the donation is Terry the mechanic from 1955. And while that information isn’t important, it would have saved me a good deal of confusion in those hundred or so watches growing up when I had no clue who he was. And the thing is, I could see the obvious old-age makeup, so I knew he was supposed to be someone, but I didn’t know who until I read it online after starting this blog. Before that, I was always like, “Why did they go through the trouble of badly doing old age makeup on this random guy for this one scene? Why didn’t they just hire an old man?”

• The discussion about the Cubs between Marty and Terry just reminded me of the unnecessarily long Dudes Talking Sports conversation between Marty and Doc in the novel for the first movie.

•The book makes it very clear that Marty’s motivation for buying the sports almanac is due to his anxiety over finding out his future self is a “loser.” Like…there is no other reasoning—not even the general lure of wealth—noticeably at play here. Marty just desperately wants to avoid being described as someone who “flushed his life down the toilet” and he sees the almanac as his guaranteed way to prevent that fate.

Why wasn’t this included in the movie?? All my times watching it, and I’ve NEVER gotten the sense that buying the almanac is the result of Marty being afraid of what he learned in the café. It always just seemed like Marty was simply being impulsive, irresponsible, and greedy. And frankly, it also has always struck me as a little out of character for him. He’s impulsive, yes, but good-hearted, honest, Marty McFly wanting to cheat at gambling for fun? Never seemed quite in line with who he is.

The way the book frames it changes it so much though! It’s so much easier to be sympathetic toward Marty buying the almanac with the context that he’s doing it to save himself and his family. Kind of flabbergasted, honestly. This would have been a great detail to have in the movie. Imagine seeing the excited grin and the “I can’t lose!” and him telling Doc with a mischievous grin, “Maybe we can place a couple bets?” replaced by a Marty who’s conflicted about his decision but desperate not to become someone everyone around him is ashamed of. Because there is no sense of that in Movie Marty. He just sees the almanac and does this

Now I’m wondering: is there anyone who watched the movie and DID conclude that Marty bought the almanac specifically to avoid being a loser? Is it only me who thought he was just chasing easy fame and fortune for funsies??

[leiawritesstories]

PART FIVE: MAY

First of all: the biggest, most heartfelt thank you to everyone who has been reading this AU. you have my heart, as angst-loving as it is, and your responses are everything to me :))

Second note: this chapter is ridiculously long, and I do apologize for the insanely long chapters... but also there is SMUT AHEAD!!! if you're not here for sexual content, stop at "Their exit from the archery range" and skip down to "It was May 25" and know that not wanting to read smut does not make any difference and i will always appreciate you reading :) okay I will stop rambling now

Word count: 10.4k (whoops...)

Warnings: swearing, weapons, crime talk, made-up police stuff, badly concealed horniness, fighting, flirting disguised as archery, SO much innuendo, and smut! NSFW!! 

Enjoy!!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Happy birthday, boss lady!” Elide cheered, pulling the blindfold from Aelin’s eyes with a flourish. “You can’t run back to your apartment now, so sit on down and enjoy a dinner that you aren’t paying for.” 

“You’re the worst best friend, El,” Aelin complained, but she was beaming. “I thought I specifically told you nothing over-the-top.”

Elide shrugged. “You don’t turn twenty-seven every day, Ae, and it’s about damn time you took an evening off. Plus, Aedion would be griping all night if he got dragged out of work for you not to show up.” She wrapped her arms around the taller woman. “Happy birthday.” 

“Fine, fine.” Aelin hugged her second-in-command fiercely. “Thanks, El.” 

Gavriel was next in line, his hug stealing her breath. “Happy birthday, Aelin. Though I think I’m the one who deserves a present for getting my son here.” 

She snickered. “I’ll buy you a drink or something. Thank you for being here.” 

“Anytime.” He flashed her a cunning little grin. “I’d never miss a chance to see my beautiful, sharp-witted niece turn my best lieutenant into a tongue-tied mess.” 

“Gav!” She swatted his shoulder. “You’re more meddling than Elide, Lys, and Ansel all together, I swear.” He just smirked and returned to his seat, leaving her to be swallowed up by Aedion’s embrace. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you without your lab coat in years, Aedy,” she teased. 

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “It’s a special occasion.” 

“Mhmmm,” she hummed, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Lysandra. 

Aedion blushed an endearing shade of pink. “So what if we happen to sit next to each other? It’s a private party, little miss birthday girl.”

“Not that private,” she snickered, dodging his outraged squawk and smack. “Love you too, Aeds.” 

“You’re the worst.” He groaned, but he was grinning. 

Lysandra raised a perfectly threaded brow. “Do I want to know what that was about?” 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Aelin smirked. “What? My birthday present can be you and Aedy fu—” 

“No!” Lys clapped her hand over Aelin’s mouth. “If you get to say things like that, then I get to ask you when you and Whitethorn are going to bang. If you haven’t already.” It was her turn to wiggle her eyebrows. 

Aelin’s face heated. “Pretend I never said anything.” 

“That’s my birthday bad bitch.” Lys adjusted one of Aelin’s curls. “Now go say hi to the man who hasn’t taken his smitten eyes off you since you walked in here in a dress to bring him to his knees.” She patted Aelin’s ass as she walked away. 

Aelin breathed deeply, closing her eyes for a few seconds. 

“Done with the party already?” Rowan’s voice broke her out of her snatch of silence. “We can probably sneak out the staff door.” 

“Don’t tempt me,” she replied, finally meeting his appreciative gaze. “Hi, Ro.” 

“Hi.” His eyes trailed down her body, admiration lighting his face at the way her tailored gold sheath dress molded to every angle and curve of her frame. “That is one hell of a dress, Ae.” 

“Thanks.” Just to tease him, she did a slow spin, reveling in his sharp gasp as he drank in the deep V-cut of the back that highlighted the ink flowing down her spine. 

“I didn’t know you had a spine piece,” he said in a soft, gravelly rasp. 

A dangerously lazy smile curved across her maroon-stained lips. “I keep it hidden while I’m at work. Professionalism and all that.” 

“Oh, you mean the fire-breathing dragon screaming up your spine isn’t professional?” He chuckled. “It’s…incredible. Where’d you get it done?” 

“I know a guy,” she said, deliberately cryptic. 

He bit back a sigh. “Does this guy have a name and a place of work?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to arrest my tattoo artist for touching my back with my full consent while he did my tattoo.” 

“I’m not.” A grin flashed across his face. “I’m just going to make him squirm a little.” 

She chuckled. “You’re impossible. How about we make a deal? You overlook the simple reality that someone had to give me this tattoo, and you can see how lovely of a contrast it makes with my sheets.” 

Rowan inhaled sharply, dark flames smoldering in his eyes. “The tattoo, or that dress?” 

“I prefer not to wear clothes when I’m in my bed.” She smirked. “Don’t just stand there gasping like a fish, Ro. Escort me to dinner like the gentleman Uncle Gav thinks you are.” 

“I think you’ll find that I’m not much of a gentleman, Ae.” His hand landed on the small of her back, its heat rippling deliciously up her spine. 

“Good.” She lowered her voice to a whisper only he could hear. “Because I like it rough.” 

~

Aelin barely had a chance to say goodbye to everyone after the absolutely delicious dinner, because Lysandra, Ansel, and Elide clustered around her as soon as she left the bathroom, shepherding her out the door and down the street. She only managed to wave to Rowan as she left, certain that she’d find more than one message from him waiting on her phone when she was able to look at it. 

With Elide on one arm and Ansel on the other, Aelin found herself squeezed into an inescapable sandwich of her closest girls, and although she pretended to groan when Lysandra, three steps ahead, pulled open the door to the Vaults, a popular bar, she was beaming. 

“Do you really think it’s the best idea to get drunk on a Tuesday?” she called over the thumping beat of the music pouring through the surround-sound speaker system. 

Lys rolled her eyes. “It’s your birthday, bitch! You can decide tomorrow is a remote workday!” 

“Shots!” Elide squealed, flagging down the closest bartender and rapidly ordering a whole string of drinks. “I’ve got this round, ladies.” 

“I’m scared,” Aelin teased, sliding into the closest open booth. “If Ells is buying, I might just pass out now.” 

“Fuck off,” Elide laughed, smacking Aelin’s shoulder. “We both know you’re only going to drink enough to get yourself ready to go jump on Whitethorn’s di—”

“Stop!” Aelin squawked, clamping her hand over Elide’s mouth. She composed herself and winked wickedly at the petite woman. “I don’t need liquid courage to do that, Ells.” 

“My gods, you are the worst.” Ansel groaned dramatically. “Add that to the list of things your lawyer should never hear.” 

“Thought you weren’t my lawyer for tonight,” Aelin shot back, grinning. 

The redhead laughed. “Fair enough. Ooh, the drinks are here!” She took the tray from the bartender and passed the cocktails and shot glasses around the table. “Cheers, birthday girl!” 

Aelin clinked her shot with the girls and tossed it back effortlessly, only grimacing a little bit at the burn of straight vodka. “Fuck, El! A little warning next time?” 

Elide snickered gleefully. “Why?” The song changed, and she perked up, clapping. “I love this song!” She took a long pull of her cocktail, draining nearly half of it, and grabbed Aelin’s hand. “Come on, birthday bitch! We’re dancing!” She tugged Aelin out onto the crowded dancefloor without waiting for her to protest. 

“You’re lucky I have alcohol in me,” Aelin giggled as she wedged herself into the sea of swaying bodies next to Elide. “God, I missed being able to do this.” 

“All the more reason to—ah shit. Behind you, Ae.”

“What?” Aelin turned, following Elide’s dark brown glare, and found, to her unpleasant surprise, a rather drunk Sam Cortland less than two feet away. Burning hell.

“Hey,” Sam called over the music, surprisingly coherent for the glassiness of his eyes. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

“Because the stick up my ass is too big?” Aelin asked sweetly. 

Sam coughed. “Well, um, because you—because it’s a Tuesday?” 

“Liar.” She snorted. “A woman is allowed to go out on her birthday, y’know.” 

“Happy bir’day,” he offered, trying his best to disguise his sneer. 

“I’d say thanks, but you don’t really deserve my manners.” She flashed him an angelically sweet grin. “Fuck off, Cortland.” 

“Bitch,” he grunted.

Aelin’s eyes flashed with a dangerous gleam. “What was that?” 

Elide grabbed her arm. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she hissed, her command cutting through Aelin’s alcohol-loosened fury. “He’s not worth it, and you’re Aelin right now.” 

Aelin blinked, snapping herself out of the thoughts of violence. “Right. Okay.” She turned her back to Sam—who had wisely chosen to slither away, hopefully leaving the bar—just in time for Ansel and Lys to appear with more shots, these ones electric blue. 

“Cheers!” Lys yelled, tapping her small glass to Aelin’s and throwing back the shot. Aelin laughed and followed suit, exhaling sharply at the strength of the tiny glass of alcohol. 

“Lyssie, if I’m hungover tomorrow, I’m blaming you!” 

“Oh, calm down,” Lys snickered. “It won’t knock you out.” 

Aelin snorted in disbelief, then caught Lys’s arm before she could head back to the bar. “It’s our song, Lys! C’mon, dance!” 

Lys laughed and jumped into the knot of dancers, shaking her hips the way she used to back in college when she and Aelin would hit five different bars a night on the weekends. “Still got it!” 

After so many songs that Aelin’s feet were starting to cramp, the women finally half-stumbled off the dance floor and headed out of the bar, gulping down the fresh night air as they stepped out into the street. 

“Fuck, it gets so stuffy in there,” Aelin complained. She shivered. “And it’s cold!” 

“It is not, you little wimp,” Ansel said, poking Aelin in the side. “You just wish that man of yours was here to whip his jacket around you like a gentleman.” 

“Mmm, I wouldn’t mind that,” Aelin hummed, smirking wickedly. “You know what happens after a man gives you his jacket.” 

“You are the worst.” Ansel shoved her lightly. “Again, things you should never fucking ever tell your lawyer: whose bones you plan to jump.” 

“If I make it home,” Aelin grumbled. 

“You ladies need a ride home?” Out of nowhere, Sam Cortland appeared in front of them, his eyes still glassy with alcohol haze and an oily smirk painted across his face. 

“Fuck off, Cortland,” Elide retorted, folding her arms across her chest. “You aren’t anywhere near fit to drive, anyway.” 

“And I wouldn’t willingly get into a car with you if it was the last option on Earth,” Aelin added.

Sam scowled. “Have it your way, then.” He stalked off, heading down the nearby alley. “Fuckin’ whore,” he muttered, thinking he was far enough away for her not to hear.

She heard. And she followed him, her heels clicking with dangerous precision against the sidewalk. “Want to repeat that, scumbag?” 

He stopped, whirled around, and apparently decided he had a death wish. “I said, you’re a fucking whore.” 

Her fist smashed into his smug little grin with an immensely satisfying crunch. “Take that, you sleazy bastard,” she growled.

Sam screeched, pressed his hands into his rapidly swelling face, and moaned pitifully. “You bit–”

She kneed him in the groin, and when he doubled over, whimpering, she slammed her knee into the side of his head. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. She and Elide—who had followed her, of course— maneuvered his limp, unresisting body into the shadows of the alley and left him there.

“No, Aelin, you can’t kill him yet,” Elide reminded her, catching the taller woman’s wrist. 

Aelin sighed dramatically. “But it’s my birthday!”

“So what?” 

“So no murder in plain sight.” Ansel cut in.

“You’re no fun,” Aelin sighed. “Fine.” She delivered one last kick to Sam’s groin. “I wonder if he felt that.” 

Elide snorted. “And this is where I drag you off before you ruin your life by being hauled off to jail on your birthday.” Wrapping one arm around Aelin’s waist, she directed her back onto the sidewalk and away from the shadowy alleyway. “How about we finish the night at your place?” 

Aelin perked up. “I’ll make margaritas!” 

She was ordering an Uber before Elide could protest that they’d all already drunk half their body mass in alcohol that night. 

Just birthday girl things. 

~

Kaltain Rompier tapped her black acrylic nails against her iPad screen, idly waiting for the guy who’d texted her last night (after weeks of absolute silence) to show up. He said he’d be there right at eleven, and it was almost at the point where she was about to leave. 

“Shit, sorry I’m late.” Sam Cortland dropped into the seat opposite hers as her office door closed with a soft click. “Didn’t get out of the damn meeting until ten minutes ago.” 

“Mhmm, right, I forgot how important you businessmen were.” Her reply was acerbic. 

He sighed, sheepish. “I’m really sorry, Kal.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” She picked up her stylus pencil and tapped it against the blank screen. “You’re here to give me a story, Cortland.” She glanced at him, noticing for the first time since he’d rushed into her office that he looked a good deal worse for wear. “Does your story have anything to do with the fact that you look like shit?” 

“It’s because Aelin fucking punched me,” he griped. 

Kaltain’s brows shot up. “Aelin…Galathynius?”

“Yeah.” Sam scoffed. “Dressed up like a fuckin’ slut last night. I ran into her at a bar; she was out with some people I didn’t recognize, and when I tried to buy her a drink, she laughed in my face.” 

“Laughing doesn’t leave black eyes, Cortland,” Kaltain returned dryly. 

“I haven’t got to the part where she punched me.” He scowled, the aggrieved expression drawing attention to the vivid bruising encircling his right eye and the scattered smaller bruises and little flecks of scratches on his face. “I left the damn bar before she did, ended up taking a call outside the place, and I was there when she and her friends left, all drunk and stumbling. So I did what any decent guy would do and offered to drive them home, and Aelin punched me in the goddamn face.” He was practically raving by the end of his little rant. 

“You offered to drive Aelin Galathynius home?” Kaltain repeated, stylus flying over her iPad as she took notes. She chuckled. “Cortland, the woman probably has more than one driver. Not to mention that by all accounts, she’s so not interested in you that she bought your company.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds like interest to me.”

“Yeah, for her bank account,” she snorted. “Anything else for the story, Cortland?” 

“Just that I woke up in a goddamn alley like this.” His frown dug a deep groove between his eyebrows. “That bitch.” 

“If you don’t have anything else for the story, get the hell out.” Kaltain set down her stylus, got up, and opened the door. “We’re not spending any more time together, or did you not mean it that way?” Her saccharine smile made Sam cringe. 

“Kal–I–I didn’t–”

“Yes you did.” She pointed out into the hallway. “You’ve given me a good story, Cortland. Now get your fancy little ass back to Daddy’s office.” Pissed, Sam roughly stood up and stalked out of her office, muttering something about stupid bitch under his breath. 

She almost pitied the man. Someday, his misogyny would get him into a tight little corner that he couldn’t crawl his way out of. But there was a column waiting to be written—a particularly sordid one, just what the public was craving—and she couldn’t let his chauvinism get in the way of her job. 

The article dropped late that afternoon, and Kaltain came into work the next morning still grinning, still riding the high of an instantly viral article. Maybe being a gossip columnist wasn’t always the most rewarding job, but the times when she got to see her work splashed all over the internet were…euphoric. The short hallway leading to her office was quiet, as usual, and she was buried so far in the notifications she hadn’t read that she didn’t notice that the whole floor was also quiet. 

Only when she strolled into her office and dropped her shoulder bag into someone else’s lap did she realize that she wasn’t alone. 

“Good morning, Miss Rompier.” The voice was female, throaty, slightly raspy, and utterly devoid of pleasantry. 

Slowly, Kaltain dragged her gaze from her desk to the lean, masked and hooded, black-clad figure lounging in the other chair, black combat boots propped carelessly on the low bookshelf beside the desk. “What is this? Who are you?” Instinctively, she reached for her belt, where she always kept a tiny can of pepper spray. 

“Not so fast, Miss Rompier.” The masked woman lifted her chin, and Kaltain felt a hard, heavy hand close around her wrists in a vice-like grip. “We’re going to have a little chat about the article you just posted.” 

“I–” Before Kaltain could protest, a needle pricked at the back of her neck, and everything faded to black. 

~

She awoke in a dimly lit room that smelled faintly of mildew, sitting in a wooden chair with her hands bound behind her back. Her head throbbed, her neck was stiff, and her heartbeat raced with adrenaline and terror. Where the hell was she?

“Good to see you awake, Miss Rompier.” The woman who’d had her drugged and kidnapped sat across from her, the dim overhead light throwing shadows across her still-masked face. 

“Who the hell are you?” Kaltain snapped. 

The woman chuckled softly, a lethal, raspy breath that sent ominous shivers down Kaltain’s spine. “My name is Celaena.” 

Fuck. “And why do you give a shit if one of those filthy rich people you supposedly hate is featured in one of my columns, Celaena?” 

“Because it’s not time for that quite yet.” Celaena clicked her tongue. “Don’t ask questions you don’t actually want answered, Miss Rompier. Aelin Galathynius needs to stay out of the tabloids for now, but…” She trailed off, absentmindedly dancing a throwing star across her gloved knuckles. “But I rather liked how you didn’t hesitate to drag her through the muck.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Kaltain shot back, feeling defensive.

“It means that when it’s time, I want you to publish every dirty little detail that I send you.” 

Kaltain narrowed her eyes, still suspicious. “You’re taking down Galathynius?” 

Celaena shrugged. “Again, don’t ask questions you don’t want answered. The wrong things could get you killed, Miss Rompier.” She leaned in close enough for Kaltain to see the glint of steel hiding beneath her sleeves. “I wasn’t planning to kill you, but I’m not afraid to do it.” 

“You–you’ll send me everything you want published?”

“Every single sordid detail.” 

Slowly, Kaltain nodded. “Alright. What do you want me to do now?” 

~

“All of them?” Rowan dropped his blue-light glasses on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose in a feeble attempt to stave off the headache. 

“All of them, sir,” Luca confirmed. “Three years of tabloid history wiped clean, and it appears that practically every mention of the recent Galathynius article is being scrubbed from the internet.” 

“How the fuck is that happening?” Rowan demanded. “The damn column should have left such a large footprint by now that we’d be able to find it even though the original publisher took it down.” 

Luca chewed his lower lip. “I…I don’t know, sir.” 

Rowan swore viciously under his breath. “Get me Kaltain Rompier’s address, Luca.” 

“One sec.” Luca rapidly typed something into his laptop, then scribbled down a few words on a plain yellow sticky note. “Here you go.” 

“Thanks.” Rowan grabbed the note, threw his jacket over his shoulder, snatched his keys from the wall, and strode out to the garage. His mind was whirling with a hundred different theories about why the viral gossip article about Aelin Galathynius’s recent, rather colorful, night out had abruptly vanished from the internet, along with the last three years of the columnist’s history. 

Half-baked ideas churned through his brain with dizzying speed, and Kaltain Rompier was a crucial part of all of them. 

Within twenty minutes, he had pulled up to the building where Kaltain worked, parked in a visitor spot, and made sure his badge was easily visible. He strode into the office, took the elevator to the floor where her tabloid was located, and pushed open the front doors with little effort. 

“I’d like a few minutes to speak to Kaltain, please,” he said to the young woman at the front desk. 

The young woman’s huge blue eyes grew wider, and her hand trembled as she pointed wordlessly down the hall. “Th–that way, Officer.” 

“Thank you.” He knew he was being a dick, but he headed away without saying anything else. 

Kaltain Rompier was sitting at her desk typing away on her laptop when he knocked twice at the half-open door and let himself in. 

She muffled a shriek, hands flying to her throat. “What the hell?!” 

Rowan raised his empty hands in a show of approachability. “Kaltain Rompier?” 

The columnist slowly sank back into her seat. “That’s me.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Are you going to tell me why the goddamn cops are here?” 

“It’s just me.” He sat down in the chair opposite hers. “I have a couple of questions about your most recent article, if you don’t mind.” 

Her expression shuttered. “I took it down, Mr…what should I call you?” 

“‘Lieutenant’ is fine. I’m not police, I’m TSF.” 

She nodded. “I took down the article, Lieutenant.” 

“Why?” He leaned slightly forward, waiting for an answer to the question that had plagued him ever since PD had received notice that Kaltain had gone missing. That was five days ago. He’d feared that there would be another victim in the never-ending string of homicides, but she was sitting there in front of him, alive and well if a little shaken from his sudden appearance in her office. 

“It was…” Kaltain sighed. “I’m a gossip columnist, Lieutenant, which means that my job is to dig up people’s dirty little secrets and make them public. I’ve never seen the true ugliness of it until I wrote that piece on Aelin Galathynius and instantly hated myself.” 

Rowan blinked. “You wrote a tabloid article on Aelin Galathynius, based on whatever source you could find, and that made you…guilty?” 

“It made me realize how awful the tabloid industry is,” Kaltain murmured. “It’s not like I haven’t seen the tabloids about Ms. Galathynius that have floated around, but she’s so…so highly regarded, and the tabloids have always been obviously contrived. What I wrote…it wasn’t.” 

“What was your source?” 

“Sam Cortland,” she admitted. 

Rowan froze, pieces clicking together before his eyes. “Who?”

“Sam Cortland of Cortland Advertising,” Kaltain repeated, a tinge of bitterness clouding her tone. “He showed up at my office with a hell of a black eye and a hell of a story, and I wrote and sold it without even thinking until it was done.” 

“I see.” Closing his notepad, Rowan stood up. “Will you still be working here, or are you going to seek something else?” 

“I’m trying to get a real journalist job,” the columnist replied. “I just…I don’t want to feel grimy like this all the time anymore.” 

Rowan nodded. “Well, best of luck.” He moved towards the door. “One more thing. You were missing for several days, Miss Rompier. Why was that?” 

“Family emergency,” she admitted, a haunted look flickering through her eyes. “I had a friend drive me to the airport. Didn’t trust myself to drive safely.” 

“My apologies.” Rowan stepped out into the hallway. “Thanks for letting me drop in on you, Miss Rompier, and good luck with your job search.” With that, he left the office, got back in his cruiser, and headed back to PD with a whole new chunk of information ready to add to his theory. 

Sam Cortland. 

As much as Rowan wanted to deny the ease of the truth, it made so much sense. Cortland was a petty, unhappy little man who hadn’t taken well to Gal Inc. acquiring his family’s company, and while his father, the elder Cortland and current CEO of Cortland Advertising, was adjusted to the merger, Sam was not. Apparently, he’d deemed it best to go after Aelin like a jilted ex-lover–straight to the tabloids–in a vain attempt to see her thrown out of power and popularity. 

It didn’t entirely explain why Kaltain (or someone else) had scrubbed the internet clean of all traces of her article, but it was a start. And if he was correct, Kaltain’s “family emergency” hadn’t been an emergency at all, but an intervention from a certain unseen criminal–the barely-noticeable needle mark on the side of her neck spoke of something other than running to the airport at the last minute.  

It seemed that Celaena Sardothien had something to gain from Aelin’s current status, and she wasn’t afraid to resort to violence to keep her schemes running. 

~

Aelin swept one final gaze over her reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the far wall of her expansive walk-in closet and nodded in satisfaction. Her dress–a casual but classy cap-sleeved sheath of powder-green linen that was perfect for the balmy spring evening–flowed gracefully down the lines and curves of her figure, her light makeup masked the dark shadows smeared beneath her eyes, and her hair was half-up in a wooden clip, the rest cascading in tamed waves down her back. Beige, wedge-heeled sandals added a few extra inches to her height (and cleverly concealed a pair of flat little knives), and a matching beige handbag completed the look. 

If she’d agonized over every little detail of this outfit and this night for the last two weeks, it was only because she wanted to properly impress the man who should be about to knock on her door. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the increasingly filthy dreams she’d been having–featuring that very man–nor what she did when she awoke from those dreams. 

As if her wandering thoughts had summoned the man, he knocked three times on her door, three firm, authoritative thuds of his fist against the thick, lacquered oak front door, and—though she would never admit it—the scrap of lace between her thighs dampened. 

“You aren’t working right now, Lieutenant,” she teased as she opened the door, a grin unfolding across her face as she watched his face flicker through shock, nervousness, and anticipation. 

“You’ll forgive me if it’s hard to get out of the work habits, Miss CEO,” he returned, emerald eyes glinting with humor. 

“Fair enough.” She stepped backwards into her apartment. “Welcome to my humble dwelling, Rowan.” 

“Humble,” he echoed, both incredulous and teasing. “This place’s rent probably costs more than my mortgage.” 

Aelin flashed him a grin. “What good is my career if I can’t afford a comfortable place to live and still have some left to donate?” 

“You donate?” 

“I thought we’d established you weren’t working, Ro.” 

He chuckled. “I’m…call it a first-date question or something. I didn’t expect you to say that.” 

“Not many do,” she admitted, shifting her gaze out the window, where Orynth’s skyline was washed in gold and copper by the setting sun. “But nothing gives me more genuine pleasure than seeing the faces of every child who gets to go to school because I make more money than I can possibly spend.” 

“You set up a foundation?” 

“Have you heard of the Fireheart Foundation?” 

Rowan’s face slackened in appreciative shock. “That’s you?” 

“Well, my parents started it—‘Fireheart’ was Dad’s nickname for Mom—and I continue their legacy.” A soft flush crept up her cheeks, heating her face. “It’s not that big of a deal, Ro.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “And you distracted me so much that it’s after seven-thirty.”

“Hmm, we’d better get going, then. And by the way, it is a big deal, but I won’t bother you with that if you don’t want me to.” Easily, naturally, he laced his fingers with hers, and led her out into the hall, waiting for her to lock her door. “Close your eyes, Ae.” 

“In my building?” 

“Fine, as soon as we get to the car.” He pretended to sigh at her good-natured giggle. 

As she clicked her seatbelt into place, she snickered. “Is it bad that I’m thinking this is some elaborate scheme to kidnap me?” 

“I’m offended!” he gasped, mock-theatrical. “I’m the guy who rescues you from the big bad kidnapper, Ae, not the big bad kidnapper himself.” 

“You can be the big bad something else,” she mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He spluttered out a cough, his tan cheeks flaring scarlet. “Aelin!” 

She just smirked. “You heard me, darling.” 

“Dinner first,” he grunted, his voice more raspy than he probably intended. He managed to compose himself, and he shot her a blazingly hot gaze in the rearview mirror as he backed out of the parking garage and drove into downtown Orynth. “Then I’ll give you big bad something.” 

“We’ll see about that,” she purred, her voice like silk and sin. Then she closed her eyes, smothering a wicked little chuckle that rose in her at his frustrated, half-strangled exhale. 

About thirty minutes later, he stopped. “Open your eyes, Ae.” 

She did. “East Orynth Sporting Range? Are you sure this isn’t a kidnapping scheme, Lieutenant?” 

“Funny,” he deadpanned, hurrying around the car to open her door for her. “Have you ever done archery before, Miss Galathynius?” 

“Drop the title, Lieutenant, and yes. I took lessons when I was younger—you know, like a good little rich girl.” 

“Let’s see how well this good little rich girl can still shoot, then,” he murmured, the low rumble of his words dancing deliciously down her spine. 

“If I miss every target, I’m blaming the lack of flexibility…in the bow, of course.” She laughed softly at his muted blush. “Maybe you’ll have to come stand behind me and guide my position.” 

“Oh, I’ll guide your position, alright,” he agreed, the simmering heat of his gaze searing right through the soft linen of her dress. 

“Only if necessary,” she said, taking his hand as they walked up to the entrance. Like the gentleman he was, he held the door open for her. “Thank you, Ro.” 

“Anytime.” He strolled up to the check-in desk and waved at the middle-aged woman sitting at the counter. “Hey, Philippa!” 

The woman’s kind face split into a crinkled, joyful smile. “Rowan Whitethorn! I haven’t seen you in years, you little troublemaker!” 

“He’s a grown-up troublemaker now,” Aelin joked. 

Philippa’s smile widened as she took in Aelin’s appearance and closeness to Rowan. “And who might this be, Rowan? She’s far out of your league, that I can tell.” 

“This is Miss Aelin Galathynius,” Rowan said. 

Philippa reached across the counter and squeezed Aelin’s hands. “Lovely to meet you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine.” Aelin beamed at the maternal-looking woman. “Tell me, has Rowan really been coming here since he was a mischievous little scamp?” 

“I still remember him being dragged away from the rock wall,” Philippa said, eyes twinkling. 

Rowan sighed. “I suppose I’ll just go to the range while you spill all my life’s secrets, hmm?” 

“I would never miss a chance to show off my little-rich-girl tricks,” Aelin returned. “Shall we?” 

Philippa passed a clipboard across the desk. “Sign this, both of you, and then go on ahead. Rowan, you can show Miss Aelin everything; you know where it all is.” 

Aelin signed and passed Rowan the clipboard, and he signed and handed it back to Philippa. “I’d be happy to. Thanks, Philippa.” 

“Enjoy!” the older woman called, waving as the pair headed for the equipment room. 

Rowan’s hand shifted to the small of Aelin’s back. “We have the range to ourselves for an hour; I convinced Philippa to let us in during what’s usually janitorial hours. Don’t worry, they don’t actually clean right now. They just use it as a built-in break.” 

“How clever,” Aelin mused. “I…oh, wow!” She turned in a slow circle, sweeping her eyes over every piece of equipment that lined the neatly organized racks and walls of the equipment room. “Why didn’t my parents send me here?” 

“Too afraid you’d never leave?” Rowan teased. 

She swatted his shoulder playfully. “You think you’re so funny.” 

“We’ll see who’s laughing when you shoot the floor.” His eyes glittered with challenge. 

Aelin cracked her knuckles. “Bring it on, Robin Hood.” She perused the racks of bows, testing a few before settling on a lightweight but sturdy fiberglass recurve bow. She slung a quiver of the range’s standard blunt practice arrows over her shoulder and joined Rowan, quelling the surge of lust that flared between her legs at the sight of him with a bow slung over his shoulder. 

“Satisfied with your choice, Ae?” 

“Unless it performs poorly, I am.” She winked, dropping her gaze for a brief moment. 

“I’ll show you poor performance,” he all but growled, leading the way into the range. 

The expansive, high-ceilinged space stretched from one end of the long building to the other, with several rows of targets lined up at various distances across the turf-floored expanse. There were lines of chalk painted onto the turf, indicating where archers of different ages and heights should stand. Overhead fans blew with a low mechanical whirr, circulating the faint odor of leather and resin through the air. 

Confidently, Rowan took a stance at one of the white lines, nocked an arrow, aimed his bow, took a breath, and released the arrow on the exhale. It sliced cleanly through the air and embedded itself in the tiny red bulls-eye of one of the mid-distance targets. 

Aelin whistled. “Impressive.” She took her own stance three spaces away from him. “I’d tell you what that sight did to me, but then we’d never make it out of here.” 

His next shot, which he’d been releasing as she spoke, shuddered and went wide, landing in an outer ring of the target. “Distraction is a cheap trick, Ae.” 

“Who said this was a competition?” With a sweet smile, she shook out her arms and legs, planted her feet in a stance that her muscles had never fully forgotten—hell, who was she kidding? She’d maintained that skill, and it had come in handy more than once as she built the Boss’s empire—fitted an arrow to the taut string of her bow, aimed, and let it fly. The arrow whistled through the air and thudded cleanly into her target, exactly where she had aimed. 

“Maybe it really has been too long,” Rowan teased, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes as he looked at where her arrow had landed. 

Smack dab in the middle of the wooden crossbeam from which the target hung. 

“Aim a little lower next time, love,” he said, low and slow. 

“Wouldn’t you like that,” she returned, a slow smirk curling her lips. She nocked another arrow and aimed again, fired on the exhale, and sent the arrow slicing straight into the bulls-eye of the target in the row behind the one she’d just shot into. 

Rowan whistled in admiration. “How about a contest, Ae? A real one?” She raised her eyebrows in interest, and he continued. “We take turns picking targets, the one who’s closest gets the point, and whoever has more points at the end wins.” 

“And what’s the prize?” 

“Loser buys dinner.” 

“That’s boring.” Her eyes sparkled with eager challenge. “If you win, you get to see what’s under this dress. Or not under it.” 

He inhaled and exhaled slowly. Very slowly. “If you win, I’ll show you what you missed when you left me hard and leaking in that damn hallway at your gala.” 

“Deal.” She held out her hand, he clasped it, and they shook hands, the warm heaviness of their contest settling between them with no small amount of tension. “You are going down, darling.” 

“If I’m lucky, that’ll only be the beginning.” He smirked at her soft gasp. “Can’t wait to hear that sound again, love.” 

“You wish.” She rolled her shoulders. “First target: the bulls-eye of that second-to-last target.” In one fluid motion, she nocked, aimed, and fired, and her arrow speared clean through the bulls-eye she’d pointed at. 

Rowan whistled. “Haven’t practiced archery since you were a kid, my ass.” 

“You do have a rather fine one,” she said lightly, snickering at his flustered cough. 

“If you’re trying to distract me, try again.” Confidently—and dear god, the things that confidence did to her—he fired an arrow, sending it into the exact same spot she had hit. “Looks like it’s my turn to pick a target.” 

“Choose wisely.” 

His smirk was edged with something wild and challenging and deliciously dangerous. “Bottom left corner of the target at the hundred-meter line. Not the outer ring, the bottom left corner.” He rolled his shoulders, carefully aimed, exhaled, and released his arrow. It sang through the air and embedded into the lower left corner of the farthest target with a muted thunk. 

“Impressive,” Aelin hummed. Narrowing her eyes, she carefully aimed, ignoring the sights on the bow and using her instinct to push her bow just a fraction to the right. 

“You sure about that position?” Without warning, Rowan stepped up behind her and settled his hands onto her hips. “Looks like you’re aiming too far right, darling.” 

She stifled the delightful tremor that shuddered through her at his closeness. “I know the path of my shots, Lieutenant.” With a bright smile, she loosed her arrow, which whistled through the air and cleanly skewered the lower left corner of the hundred-meter-away target, a good inch and a half closer to the juncture of the corner than his shot had been. 

He inhaled sharply and stepped back just a smidge, but not before she’d felt the thick, hard evidence of what her shot had done to him. “I’ll have to pick a more difficult target,” he said, though there was no small amount of admiration in his voice. “Your turn.” 

Aelin swept her gaze around the range, a wicked grin lifting her lips as she settled on a target. “See that target hanging up on the far wall?” 

“Mhmm.” He moved to her side, sharp gaze calculating the distance. “That has to be two hundred, maybe two hundred fifty meters away.” 

“There’s a chain at the top that anchors that target to the wall, which has to be padded for safety. Our target is the top link of that chain—land your shot through the chain so it goes into the wall padding.” 

He stared at her in shock. “Are you insane?” 

“Maybe.” She winked. “Why, are you afraid you can’t make it?” 

“Why don’t you let me take the first shot to prove that I’m not afraid of anything?” 

“If you want.” She stepped aside. “All yours, big boy.” 

“Say that again.” His voice was a soft, gravelly rumble, laced with the kind of command that she’d only ever dreamed of hearing. 

Rather than give into her fantasies and jump him right then and there, Aelin just smirked. “Make that shot, and I’ll say it again.” 

“Fuck,” he murmured, mostly under his breath. He took his time lining up his shot, carefully aiming just a few inches too high to compensate for the arc the arrow would take at such a long distance. Finally, he drew back his arrow and let it fly, watching it like a hawk as it sliced through the faintly stale air of the range. The arrow arced up, then gently down, and landed with a clean thud three inches to the right of the chain suspending the target from the wall. He grinned, proud that he’d managed to get so close to the almost-impossible target. “Beat that shot, darling.” 

She stepped up to the shooting line and rolled out her neck. “Let’s hope I can live up to the way I felt when I picked this target.” She took a good minute to line up her shot, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. After settling on her aim, she pulled back her arrow, took a deep breath, and released on the exhale. Her arrow whistled across the distance in a precise, beautiful arc and skewered through the second-highest link of the chain holding up the target on the far wall. 

Rowan’s jaw gaped in complete shock, his eyes wide with incredulity. 

Aelin sucked in a gasp, her eyes going wide as she realized that she’d made the shot. Two thoughts raced through her mind—one being fuck, what if he starts suspecting me now? and the other being I can’t fucking believe I made that shot!

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect you of being some kind of archery master,” he said, unabashed appreciation replacing the shock written all over his face. “That was fucking insane, Ae.” 

She laughed quietly, still stunned herself. “I honestly don’t know how in the hell I made that.” 

“I think that makes you the winner.” He looped his free arm around her waist. “And I recall something about the loser buying dinner.” 

“And dessert,” she added, leaning into his side and looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. 

~

Their exit from the archery range was a blur of rapid motion and badly concealed desire, and she only blinked back into reality when they climbed into the backseat of his car and he practically lunged across the small distance between them and crashed his lips into hers. 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and angled his head to deepen the kiss, her tongue tangling with his. A soft moan broke free from her throat, and he groaned in response, breaking the kiss and shifting his lips to her throat, tracking a trail of soft, hot kisses down her sensitive skin. 

“No…no marks,” she managed to say. He hummed in assent and nipped lightly at her fluttering pulse point before working his way back up her throat and kissing her deeply again. She moaned into the kiss, her hips inadvertently rolling, shifting her body closer against him. 

He groaned. “Aelin…” A short pause, their heartbeats so loud they could practically hear each other’s pulses. “I won’t take you in the backseat of a car this first time.” 

“Why not?” She dragged one hand ever so slowly down his chest, almost reaching his throbbing erection before he caught her wrist with a growl. 

“Because anyone could walk past and see us, and I don’t need an audience when I make you scream my name.” 

She went silent, her slightly-swollen lips dropping in aroused surprise. “Then get me home, Lieutenant.” 

A dark little smile crooked his lips. “Have I ever told you that I’ve dreamed of you using my title in bed?” 

“Now you have.” She climbed into the passenger seat. “Lieutenant.” 

He drove back to her apartment building with so little heed for traffic rules that she almost didn’t believe he was a cop. And when he parked and opened her door for her, the promise lighting his eyes made her knees turn to jelly. 

“Nervous, Ae?” he asked as they stepped into the elevator. 

“Hardly.” She pressed the button for her floor. “I recall you talking some big talk about showing me what I missed, so I’d only be nervous that you won’t last long enough to do that.” 

His hands flexed against her waist, the heat of him seeping through her linen dress. “Keep saying things like that and we’ll see who doesn’t last.” 

“Ah-ah, big boy.” She clicked her tongue. “Loser doesn’t get to call the shots.” 

“Aelin,” he groaned, eyes fluttering closed. 

“Rowan,” she echoed, giggling at his evident frustration. The elevator stopped with a ding, its door opening to Aelin’s floor. She threaded her fingers with his and led him down the hallway to her apartment, unlocked the door, and let him in. She’d just finished locking the deadbolt behind them when his hands circled her waist and his lips pressed against the back of her neck, soft but so intensely heated that she drew in a tiny gasp. 

“Told you I’d hear that sound again,” he murmured into her ear. 

She arched backwards, molding her body against his. “And I told you the loser doesn’t get to call the shots tonight, love.” Smoothly, she moved out of his embrace, bent down, and unfastened her heeled sandals, leaving them on the short shoe rack by the door. She strolled through the living room, mentally counting the seconds until he followed. 

Five, six, seven. Seven seconds. Then Rowan kicked off his shoes, crossed the living room in four long strides, and backed her into the closest wall in another two steps. 

“This doesn’t look like my bed,” she teased. 

“We’ll get to that.” Cupping his hands under her ass, he hoisted her effortlessly up and kissed her, his tongue slipping between her parted lips. She groaned softly and tangled her fingers into his hair, unapologetically ruffling up the short strands as she kissed him harder, nipping at his lips, a challenge and a tease all at once. 

“Gods,” she moaned as his lips worked down her neck, her hips grinding into his. 

“Just me,” he mumbled into her skin. 

She huffed out a breathy laugh. “How are you so funny and so hot right now?”

“Call it a special skill.” He chuckled at her wry laugh and abruptly pulled her away from the wall and down the rest of the short hallway to her bedroom, where he set her down on her feet. “Dress. Off.” 

Faster than he could blink, she hooked her foot around the back of his legs and knocked him to his knees. “What did I tell you about giving me commands tonight, love?” 

“Fuck me,” he breathed, cock straining at the front of his pants, probably leaving a permanent imprint of his zipper. “I didn’t know you could do that, Ae.” 

“Now you do.” Her turquoise gaze trailed lazily down his body. “Clothes off, Ro.” 

He yanked his shirt over his head and had his pants down to his knees before he looked up at her with a wry smirk. “Can’t exactly get my pants all the way off like this.” 

She chuckled. “Here.” Leaning down, she pulled his belt out of his pants, looped it swiftly around his wrists—deliberately making the restraint very simple so that investigative brain of his wouldn’t suspect anything—and let him stand up. “Now get your pants off, love.” 

“I…” His cock was practically shoving through his boxers. “My hands…”

“Don’t tell me you need your hands to get your pants off, my darling Lieutenant,” she hummed. With a wicked half-smirk, she pulled her dress up and over her head, revealing a lacy, golden bra and panties set. 

It took him exactly ten seconds to kick off his pants and drop back to his knees, a desperate groan ripping from his throat as he drank in the sight of her in scraps of golden lace. 

“Look at you already on your knees for me,” she cooed, sauntering across the room until she stood before him. She trailed her fingers through his hair and down his face, dancing across the intricate craftsmanship of his tattoo. “Good boy.” 

“Aelin,” Rowan moaned, desperation bleeding into his tone, “please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Please,” he said, eyes wide and begging, “let me touch you. Let me taste you. Please.” 

“Such pretty manners.” She dropped down on the end of her bed, conveniently stripping off her panties as she did, and let her legs fall open. “Only when I say so, Lieutenant.” He groaned but didn’t move, his whole body tense with the effort it took to keep in place rather than lunge for her and bury his tongue between her thighs. “Good boy,” she gasped, her head falling back as she circled her clit with her thumb, the soft touch lighting a fire in her blood. “Touch me, darling.” 

She’d barely spoken the words before he yanked his hands free, launched himself forward, fell back to his knees at the end of her bed, and replaced her thumb with his. 

“Fuck,” she gasped, hips jerking. “More, Ro.”

He circled her entrance with one fingertip before plunging his finger into her, the wetness that had pooled between her legs naturally slicking the digit. She moaned with pleasure, guiding him to add a second finger, and reached up to tease her nipples. His eyes went huge and pleading, and he struggled to find words before he managed to choke out a coherent thought. 

“Let me taste you, Ae,” he begged. “Fucking please.” 

She hummed, pretending to consider it. “Thank you for asking,” she finally said, running her free hand down his throat. “Go ahead, Ro. Put that filthy mouth of yours to work.” 

Wisely, he kept his fingers moving, twisting and curling inside of her, as he buried his head between her legs and swept his tongue in a broad, strong stroke up her cunt. He circled her clit with his tongue, sucked the throbbing little bud between his lips, and groaned deeply as the taste of her exploded on his tongue.

Between his ridiculously fucking talented mouth and the headiness of ordering around the gorgeous man she’d been dreaming of since February, Aelin didn’t last long before she clamped her thighs around Rowan’s head and called out his name as she came all over his face. Her body shook as her orgasm subsided, ripples of bliss passing through her. 

“Fuck me,” she sighed, her head clearing again. “That was so good, darling.” 

Slowly, he lifted his head and withdrew his glistening fingers. “You want me to fuck you?” 

“Oh, I want you to do much more than just that.” Languidly, she moved up the bed and stretched out against the multitude of pillows. “Take off the rest of your clothes and come here, love.” 

It took him all of five seconds to tear off his boxers, revealing a thick, hard cock that made her pussy clench just thinking about how fucking amazing it was going to feel filling her up, and position himself atop her, his weight braced on his forearms so he wasn’t crushing her. “Here I am.” 

“Here you are.” A softer light replaced the commanding glint in her eyes. “And here I am. What you do next is up to you, Rowan.” 

He exhaled shakily, a warmth bordering on love suffusing his face. “I’ve dreamed of this since the night of that goddamn gala, Aelin.” 

“Me too.” She draped one arm over his shoulder, tracing the defined planes of his upper back. “So do something about it.” 

And Rowan did.

~

It was May 25, which made it, as Gavriel would probably scream, time to stop fucking around and start producing some concrete proof. Rowan knew he’d been putting off actually filing the evidence he’d collected, using the flimsy excuse of the amount of paperwork it would take, and he was finally having a calm enough week at Orynth PD to lock himself in his office and start the task. 

He went through the homicide reports mechanically, having filed so many of them during his career that he had the process down to muscle memory. The only thing he had to consciously remember for these reports was to track the consistency of the victims’ MO’s, because that was one of the key things upon which his case rested. If he was going to get Celaena Sardothien convicted for her reign of shadow-cloaked terror—and he swore he would—he needed to make certain that he drove home the point about her preferred mode of torture-to-murder being the same. 

The fact that his suspect had never been seen in person would be an obstacle, but not an insurmountable one. He had full faith that when his trap was set and baited, Sardothien would come right into its open arms. 

He took a lunch break after finishing the reports, during which he allowed himself to open his personal cell phone and scroll through his and Aelin’s recent texts. He even managed to call and catch her during a break, which meant they could spend a few minutes talking. Which had him grinning like an idiot when he returned to his office. 

Turning back to the evidence filing, Rowan picked up the small plastic bag containing the tiny piece of mysterious fabric. Aedion had left a copy of his analytical notes, as his explanation of the material would be just as crucial as the material itself when this case eventually came to court. Rowan flipped through the pages, noting down any key information as he filed the fabric scrap as evidence, when two separate details caught his eyes. 

First, early in his initial observations, Aedion had noted that the fabric had “remarkably straight, cleanly squared edges.” Rowan turned over that thought in his head, jaw dropping when he realized the implication—the fabric had not been torn, but cut out of a larger piece. 

Which left the distinct possibility that it had been planted at the explosion site. 

“Fucking hell,” Rowan swore, jaw ticking as he added that note to the evidence report. 

The second thing that caught his eye was towards the end of Aedion’s notes, an otherwise ordinary note about the place of manufacture. Developed at Galathynius, Inc. Laboratories. Rowan shook his head, blinked a few times, and reread the note five more times to make sure he was reading it correctly. Each time, it said the same thing. 

The mysterious foreign fabric had been developed at the labs of Aelin’s beloved company. 

Rowan’s mind raced a mile a minute through the possibilities of that one little note. On the extreme end, it implied that Aelin had created the fabric—which was impossible, because she’d told him herself that she had an engineering team. So perhaps her engineers had developed it? Without her knowing? But that would make no sense, since Aelin was clearly invested enough in her company to be fully aware of what was developed in her labs. So…a secret project?

Or, as Rowan began to suspect, if Celaena Sardothien was using Aelin Galathynius as a cover-up, it followed that she would have been able to use the lab and develop some kind of near-impenetrable material for her nefarious schemes. 

All the more reason to end the Shadow Assassin before she decided Aelin was no longer useful.

~

On the unseasonably warm evening of May 30, Aelin—clad in the form-fitting black suit of Celaena Sardothien—wove her way through the shipping district, darting from shadow to shadow like a breath of nighttime breeze. A few days ago, Nox had left her a note that there had been a suspicious figure seen lurking around Warehouse 4, and because she needed to let off some steam, she’d decided to go investigate it herself. With the SecondSkin covering her true skin and her suit snug against her body, she blended into the dark little nooks and crannies of the industrial sprawl of buildings, and she made it to Warehouse 4 undetected. At the perimeter of the security cameras’ field, she tapped her boot twice against an innocuous-looking crack in the unkempt pavement, disarming the cameras temporarily. 

Footsteps silent, she crept up to the steel-sided building and paced a careful lap around the structure. She’d just started a second lap when there was a faint rustle from the cluster of nearby shrubs, and a knife sliced through the night and embedded itself in her arm. 

Or it would have, had she not caught it before it could make contact. 

Thick, tense silence stretched across the short distance between her and whoever the fuck was hiding in the shrubbery like a damn coward. 

Then, with a muffled “fuck,” a tall, muscled, black-clad male figure exploded out of the shrubs and rushed at her. 

She dodged his initial brute rush, kicking out as she sidestepped and managing to get the man in the back of the leg. He grunted, reversed direction, and swung a powerful right cross punch at her, which she blocked with one forearm and returned with a left hook. He swatted away her strike, so she launched into a flurry of rapid-fire punches and strikes, distracting him enough that she was able to get in close quarters and drive one knee into the juncture of his leg and his groin. He swore viciously and retaliated with a brutal punch to her side, which made most of her breath whoosh out of her lungs. 

“Dick move,” she huffed. 

The man scoffed. “Says the woman who literally just kneed me in the dick.” 

“Obviously you have no knowledge of anatomy.” She landed a punch to his shoulder joint and followed it up with a boot to his thigh. “Or you’d know that I kneed you in the thigh joint, idiot.” 

“Nobody told me the Boss was such a smart-ass.” He smacked the small knife out of her left hand. “Now who’s not playing by the rules?” 

“What rules?” With a vicious grin, she ducked his roundhouse swing and thrust her elbow into his stomach. He folded over with a groan, though he recovered rapidly. Not rapidly enough to fully dodge the high, sweeping kick she directed at his face, hitting his jaw enough to bruise and send his head jerking sideways. “There aren’t rules in this world.” 

“No…shit,” he wheezed. He dodged her sudden rush and whirled around to meet her head-on again, flicking open a switchblade. 

“Nice blade.” Aelin’s smirk flashed white in the blue-black darkness as she whipped twin serrated daggers from her thigh sheaths. “Little bit thuggish though, don’t you think?” 

“Says the goddamn Boss.” 

God, but it was fun to go into combat with someone who wasn’t afraid to dish her sarcasm right back at her. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, hmm? Pity I won’t be able to listen to it much longer.” 

“That’s what you think.” He swiped at her thigh, gasping shortly when she whipped her leg up to avoid the blade. Gasping in a more strangled manner when she wrapped that leg around his neck and half-threw, half-strangled him to the ground in a single fluid, brutal maneuver that was some kind of unholy cross between martial arts and street fighting. “Fuck!”

She stomped on his wrist, forcing him to release his knife, and swiftly immobilized him, though he was a good deal taller and heavier than she was. “Any last words?” The tip of her dagger touched his pulsing jugular, eager to rip open the skin. 

“Only–”

“WAIT!”

Aelin muffled a particularly colorful curse. “What the fuck, Con?!” 

“Boss, wait!” Con sprinted around so he was in her view, glancing quickly at the man she had pinned to the ground. “I know him.” 

“You have fifteen seconds to explain.” 

Con yanked the man’s dark mask and hood off, revealing tawny skin, blonde curls, and an oddly familiar face. “Long time no see, brother.” 

“Brother?” 

“Boss, this is Fen.”  

The blonde–who, Aelin noted, was indeed Con’s mirror image, but blonde–grinned. “Fenrys Moonbeam, at your service.”  

She snorted softly. “I’ll be the judge of that. Con, is he safe?”  

Con shrugged and addressed his brother. “Where have you been, Fen?”  

“Evading authority, like usual.” 

The dark-haired twin rolled his eyes. “He’s safe. Good eyes, good ears, talks too much but knows when to shut his stupid face.”  

“All right, Fen, you’re hired. I could use another pair of eyes, and your brother could use a break, if he knows what that is.” Aelin released Fenrys and stood up, brushing off her hands. 

Fen pushed himself to his feet with a groan, shaking out his cramped, sore limbs. “So the interview consists of almost dying. Got it.” 

She threw him a vicious grin. “And if I decide I won’t hire a candidate, the ‘almost’ part goes away.” 

“Terrifying.” He gulped. “Well, then I’ll count myself lucky.” He shook her offered hand. “Thanks for the opportunity, Boss.” 

“I’m looking forward to seeing how your particular skills can be an asset.” She winked, relishing the way he shuddered ever so slightly at the obvious hint of her scheming. “I’ve been in need of a decent trespasser since the last one had an unfortunate run-in with a bullet.” 

“Unfortunate, huh?” 

“Very unfortunate.” She chuckled, low and dark. “He went two steps too far.” 

Fenrys grimaced. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, Boss.” With a lazy mockery of a salute, he limped off beside his brother, headed for Con’s truck. 

~

Back at his apartment that was little more than a shitty, rundown box with paper-thin walls, tucked into one of many nondescript brick apartment buildings bordering the industrial district, Fenrys Moonbeam stretched his aching body out on his crappy couch, settled an ice pack on his throbbing knee, and picked up the cellphone lying on the side table. Opening the short list of contacts, he scrolled for a moment before tapping on an icon and letting the phone ring. 

The call connected just after the third ring. “Moonbeam?” 

Fenrys knew better than to waste words. “I’m in, Cap.” 

“Wrong title.” Rowan Whitethorn’s grunt dripped with acerbic sarcasm. 

“Apologies, Lieutenant,” Fenrys simpered. “Anyway, I’m in.” 

“Good.” 

Click. The call went dead. 

Fenrys sighed. He really should have expected Whitethorn to be as terse as his reputation suggested; the man had sent him an actual paper printout of his instructions, for fuck’s sake. At least the assignment was fairly simple. 

Infiltrate Celaena Sardothien’s ring of criminals. Check. 

Get into Sardothien’s good graces enough to go with her when she inevitably committed her next murder. Check…right? 

Collect as much evidence as possible of the Boss’s numerous heinous crimes so the TSF could convict her and end her rampage of villainy. He was working on that.

And preferably don’t fucking die in the attempt. That last part had been spoken in Rowan Whitethorn’s famously dry voice. 

No sweat. 

Aching from the unexpectedly brutal fight, Fenrys Moonbeam stretched out on his shitty couch, wincing at the unpleasant feeling of every goddamn spring in the bloody couch digging into his body, closed his eyes, and dropped into shallow sleep, hyperaware that he laid exactly twelve feet atop the equally rundown, mildew-ridden apartment of Boss Celaena Sardothien.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

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@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@sunshinebingo

@hiimheresworld

[takeyourcyanide]

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Spirit Albarn, Franken Stein, mentions of Kami

Tag(s): Hurt/Comfort, Age Regression (SFW), Men Crying, Mental Instability, Stuffed Toys, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 2 710

Summary: Stein sees a T-Rex stuffed animal, regresses before and after being allowed to purchase it, and shit also happens to hit the fan, because I don’t write for happy people LMAO

Note(s): I finally wrote more age regression like I said I would. I don’t like this a whole lot either, but I’m planning on writing some longer and better things, so hopefully that will happen. I am just posting this and Muse of Tragedy, because these are ideas I’ve had in my head for a long time that I simply never wrote. So, here!

The vivid, fluorescent lighting of the quaint drugstore left Stein internally grimacing, keeping his limbs close to his frame as to make himself seem smaller and further away from the blaring stimulus.

Going in one ear and out the other was the apparently endless rambling of Spirit, as he went on and on about Kami, and Valentine’s Day, and how he nearly forgot, and how he just has to buy her the cutest teddy bear ever. Franken merely hummed in response, scanning the aisles both curiously and indifferently, bored and more than prepared to exit the store.

As they, at long last, arrived at the line of shelves filled with stuffed-toys, particularly bears and rabbits holding non-anatomically correct hearts (Stein would much prefer to see anatomically correct heart candies) and lollipops, the meister spotted the best thing in the entire drugstore; a medium-sized Tyrannosaurus-Rex, greenish-brown in color, and without the glass eyes that left him suspecting whether or not it came equipped with a built-in camera.

Albarn grabbed on his chosen teddy, beginning to march away from the aisle and to the checkout area, as he glanced over at Stein conspicuously gazing longingly at a stuffed dinosaur, not moving, simply staring. The glint in his partner’s eyes was almost cute; childishly curious and desiring.

“Stein?” He called out. And before he could ask the boy whether or not he wanted him to buy the stuffed animal (he looked too intrigued by the toy to deny him of it), Franken turned towards him, not verbally requesting the stuffy, instead, pointing at it with an expectant and hopeful look to his countenance. He appeared as though he was preparing for disappointment, or to be yelled at. He honestly seemed to expect overly negative reactions rather often - too often - and something about that sent a pang of sorrow down Spirit’s tired spine. He’d never seen him look so childlike and tiny before.

Now he really couldn’t say no.

“You wanna get it?” Stein clumsily nodded his head once, a dramatic motion of his head as he pursed his lips slightly. “I didn’t think you were the type to like plushies. But sure, go ahead and grab it.”

“Dinosaur,” the meister said, holding the animal to his chest, moving to walk beside his weapon-partner, not ceasing his intense and elated staring content with it.

“Oh, yeah. You do like dinosaurs and all that science-y shit, so, I guess that makes sense,” the weapon shrugged his shoulders, grabbing it briefly from Stein, as he scanned the toy. The silver-haired boy seemed to subdue a pout, returning to his former blank state. “You want it back, right?” Spirit returned it into Franken’s hands, placing the bear he bought into a plastic bag, paying for the items.

“Thank you,” Stein mumbled, not exactly smiling, though the corners of his mouth were more upturned than usual.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he felt more like something of a parental figure to him everyday, or at the very least, when his partner would begin acting… like whatever this was. But the meister’s policy was ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell,’ so interrogating him about his quirks would more than certainly get him nowhere. “You don’t have to pay me back or anything, by the way. Knowing you, though, you’d definitely find some sneaky-ass way to never pay me even if I wanted you to. You’ve done it before, you bastard! So, I know for a fact you would!”

Stein giggled mischievously in a hushed voice, Spirit joyfully smiling and chuckling to himself as he listened to it. He hadn’t heard the male really laugh in a long while, he’d seemed rather morose and sort of lacking in any and all emotion as of late - even more so than typical, which he frankly didn’t think was even possible. And for what reason his partner was behaving more overtired and flat, the ginger did not know.

They exited the drugstore, Stein seeming more relieved in a sense as they were shrouded in the shadows of the night, the desert air much cooler than just a few hours ago.

<——————————————————>

Stein plopped swiftly down onto the sofa with his prized plushie, Spirit sitting beside him and placing the lovey-dovey teddy bear onto the coffee table, where the tissue paper and gift bag happened to be located.

Whilst writing thoughtful sweet-nothings on the sparkly and shiny card he had bought a little while back, he made repeated glances at his partner, of whom was merely sitting and staring into space, a more petulant, yet deadpan twinge to his countenance.

He looked awfully squeezable, however, with his stuffy tucked against his sternum, his knees holding the toy even closer. Perhaps this newfound affectionate feeling he didn’t think he’d ever feel towards Stein would dissipate once the meister said anything about ripping someone limb from limb.

“You okay over there?” He chortled, his brows pinching together in mild concern as he signed the glimmering card, placing it into the bag along with the heart and candy-holding bear.

Franken remained particularly unresponsive and immobile, it was almost as though he was entirely zoned-out of life itself, not present in the room with Spirit. Though there was something stirring within him, he could see it in his exhausted and narrow eyes, they were both decomposing and lively simultaneously in a way that only Stein could achieve.

“Hey. Did you hear me?” Albarn poked his arm, only to receive nothing back.

He inched closer to his partner, untucking and lifting Stein’s arm from the stuffed T-Rex as gently as he could, as to hopefully not startle him. Though, perhaps if he were to startle him, he’d scare him out of his current stupor.

As he raised his appendage, he moved it up and down almost playfully, stopping and leaving it to hang right in the middle. And his arm did not fall.

Spirit rose an eyebrow in the face of this strange behavior; Stein had gotten like this before - he’d refuse to speak, and would either move too much, not too much, or very robotically. But he had never done this before.

Albarn simply stared at the unmoving arm for a moment, confused and worried, not even noticing the salty tear falling from his meister’s right eye, or the way his chest made abrupt movements as noiseless sobs escaped him.

He gazed upwards, eyes widening at the sight before him, as he marginally began to panic.

“What’s wrong, Stein? Don’t cry,” he hadn’t realized before how much the sight of his counterpart weeping would both upset him and frighten him. “Was it something I did? I’ll never touch you without asking again, how about that? Please don’t cry.”

Spirit’s eyes flicked all over the room as he pondered how in the world he could possibly comfort his meister. He’d never seen him cry before, how was he supposed to know?

“Na’ yu,” Stein murmured under his breath, his tone sounding pained as though it was his first time attempting to speak.

“Not me? It wasn’t me, then? Can I touch you?” Spirit reached his arms out, retracting them, only to flail them outwards once more.

He didn’t reply again, instead focusing on trying to relearn how to move his body, desiring to position his arm back into its former place.

Spirit noticed this, grabbing his arm and moving it to tuck around his plushie just how it was before.

“T’an’ yu,” he whispered out slowly, mechanically.

“Of course,” the weapon reesponded with a polite smile, looking around the room one more time, before just pulling his partner over to him, essentially sitting him on his lap, shoving his head into the crook of his anxious neck.

This more than certainly alarmed Stein, his eyes bulging, as he acted on instinct - squirming and writhing out of his grasp.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to freak you out, I’m sorry,” he shushed his perturbation in the sweetest voice he could possibly muster. Stein sat up, perched on his thighs, as his bottom lip seemed to quiver lightly in response to his former statement. More tears bubbled up in his eyes, spilling over, as the scientist shoved himself right back to where the redhead had originally pushed him, choking on pitiful sobs.

“Shh…… I’m sorry. This is all so.. not you, I just don’t know what to do - I’m sorry,” he held his head, thinking to himself ‘Well, at least he moved for the first time in however many minutes he hadn’t.’ Spirit soothingly rubbed up and down his back, his nails dragging along empathetically. “And I know you never tell anyone anything.. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. I know this must be really scary already, isn’t it?”

Stein had evidently lost control of himself. It was clear as day to anyone that he had unwillingly began blubbering, as he repeatedly attempted to hush himself up, his efforts ultimately proving to be in vain.

He nodded his head in agreement with the weapon’s question, as he sniffled into Albarn’s shirt, his hands still maintaining their iron grip on the stuffed toy.

“Yeah, I know it is,” Franken was seriously the absolute last person he expected to be coddling. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m sorry. I’m always here, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything, but if you need to, you always can. Whatever was happening earlier didn’t look too comfortable or fun.”

Stein hummed in agreement once more, the noise reverberating within his overtired throat, as he huffed out another sob.

He brought one of his hands to his face, placing his thumb in his mouth, gently suckling on it, as his chest bumped up and down due to the suppressed wailing.

While it was a considerably strange thing for a teenager to do, Spirit couldn’t care less what Stein found tranquillizing, so long as it helped him.

“It’s okay to cry, Stein. I’m not judging you. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. You’re stubborn, so I know you won’t believe me, but I’m not gonna tell anyone, I swear,” he tenderly attempted to reassure the meister.

That only sent more tears running down his flushed face, as Stein glanced cautiously up at the ginger, whimpering into his finger.

Spirit grinned down at him, whispering, “You don’t have to believe a word I say, okay? I can see it in your eyes,” he adoringly flicked Stein’s forehead. “I don’t know what exactly is so hard for you, but I can see it’s hard for you. Stop arguing with yourself in there. Stop thinking about whatever it is for a minute. How about we play with your little dinosaur?”

He snuffled, lazily and begrudgingly removing his face from his weapon’s neck, making his stuffy more visible to the both of them.

As he did as such, Albarn could get a much better look at his blotchy, tear-stained face, a pout stretching his poor lips.

“Do you have a name for it yet?” Spirit prodded softly, restricting the urge to fondly crush the male he had seated on his femurs, as he stared shyly down at the dinosaur.

When he received no response, he assured, “You don’t have to speak, that’s okay. We can just play with it, or do whatever you want to do with it… Except dissecting it!” He earned another precious titter from Stein.

The meister held the T-Rex up to Spirit’s doting face, the ginger patting it jestingly on the head.

Stein chuckled, sniffling a bit once more, as he patted the scythe on his own head.

“Top hat,” the aspiring scientist vaguely spoke.

“What about a top hat?” He confusedly questioned.

The giggly meister pointed at the dinosaur’s head, staring inquisitively at his weapon, trying his best to temporarily forget about the bickering and the static and the inevitable.

“Oh, I see! We should get a top hat for your T-Rex, shouldn’t we?” Stein nodded his head, biting on his bottom lip in thought.

“‘N f’r you,” he elucidated, slurring his words in a baby-ish voice.

“Oh, really? Wouldn’t I just look dashing in one?” Spirit said in an overly and theatrically elegant manner, his visage contorting into a rather silly expression, leaving Stein to grin.

“No,” he was a menace, but at least he was honest.

The redhead feigned taking offense to his utter brutality, fake-crying with a hand on his chest. Franken heartily laughed, or rather, sadistically, and yet innocently, concurrently.

Abruptly, his giggles ceased, as a deep and troubled sigh escaped his lips, his countenance falling and returning to its earlier indiscernible oddity.

Spirit’s did just the same, his brows furrowing as he solicitously studied the meister’s body language and face.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He was hoping to Death that he would enjoy being referred to with touchy-feely nicknames in the state he was currently in, and that they’d relax him somewhat.

“Top hats and your dinosaur can’t really distract you, huh?” Stein sat still, blankly staring down at the stuffed toy. “That bad?” He nodded.

“Is there anything I can do?” His eyes watered once again as he processed the question being asked, moving his head from side to side, as he wanted nothing more than to forbid the tears from rolling.

“Not’ing,” he mewled. “I can’t ev’n do not’ing.”

“Aw,” he brought Stein in once again, warmly hushing his bawling. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so fussy, baby.”

Franken immediately looked up at Spirit, his eyes switching from wide-set at first to squinted and glazed over, his fingers immediately making their way back to his mouth, as his previously taut figure melted into the weapon’s chest.

“F’ssy,” he shakily repeated, hiccuping.

“Yeah, fussy,” Stein nuzzled into this shoulder, one arm holding his dinosaur, the other wrapping around his partner and gripping his shirt, as he sniveled even more so.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.. It’ll be okay, Stein.”

“Won’,” he denied in a voice Spirit found it difficult not to coo at.

“Even if that’s the case, I’m always here, okay? You know that right?”

“M’no.”

Spirit delicately scratched at his scalp, primping his unkempt hair. “Hm…. That’s okay. I guess I’ll just have to show you, then, huh?”

“Don’ think I can live much longer,” he stumbled over his words, unsteadily speaking. “Na’ able.”

Albarn’s expression gave in to his sullen feelings, as he patted Stein’s back, rocking them both from side to side.

“No, you can make it through, you’re strong,” he encouraged the boy.

“You don’ get it,” he yowled. “Na’ my choice. Can’ do not’ing ad’all.”

Spirit continued to shush him, as that was all he could do, petting his hair, stroking his back, ensuring him that he’d always be there.

“‘M all gone. Bye-bye,” it was difficult to make much sense of what he was saying, but there was something at the bottom of the scythe’s soul that almost could grasp it.

<——————————————————>

Eventually, Stein’s eyes sluggishly closed, though he tried eagerly to hold them open. His sobs died down, his sniffling coming to a close, as he no longer babbled.

Spirit peered down at the male’s face, sympathizing with him as he witnessed how swollen and red his eyes were, his eyelashes doused in teardrops, cheeks completely damp. Even his neck was moist with the droplets that flowed downwards.

The weapon carefully and attentively pushed the meister’s bangs out of the way, caressing the side of his face perceptible to him, as he tucked the loose and free hair behind his ear.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he muttered, disquieted by the whole ordeal. “I hope you can learn to trust me. I’m sure that won’t be easy, though, huh? You’ve never trusted anyone your life, have you?”

And he hadn’t. That much was evident.

As he held Franken’s body in his arms, he didn’t dare to move, even as he groaned and whimpered in a distressed and distraught manner in his sleep.

Was he supposed to wake him? Or would that only prove to make him more fussy and irritable?

He never knew what he was meant to do when it came to Stein.

He could only pray that one day he’d finally figure the meister out.

[freckles-dean]

Here are some of my thoughts on Young Royals S3 ep 1-5

I’m just rambling here. This is probably going to be long, all over the place and not well articulated, so bear with me. 

And before I talk about the show, I just need to say that it never ceases to amaze me how incredibly talented all the actors are.

First of all, I don’t blame either Simon or Wilhelm. They are in an incredibly stressful situation. They are bound to make mistakes and I think their actions while being stubborn and lacking common sense are understandable.

I really loved Simon this season and i was so exited there was more of a focus on him. We finally got to some of how everything affected him. It broke my heart to notice he wasn’t the loudest in the choir anymore and then him saying he’s not enjoying music. Side note: Dude had some banger lines this season 

I find it ironic that everything that Wille found attractive in Simon’s in s1 became things that Simon has to shut down in order to be with him

If you told yesterday me that today me was actually okay with an August redemption arc, I would not have believed you. This in no way excuses his behavior, and he still has a lot to work on, but I think it was one of my favorite parts of this season. 

I am not at all surprised by the Erik thing. since s1 I kept wondering when Willie's perfect image of him would come crumbling down, but can’t imagine how devastating it would be to learn that the person who was there for you the most was not this perfect person you thought they were and might not even accept you.

I was rooting hard for Micke and Sara. I knew it was unrealistic that he wasn’t going to hurt her again, but it was still so heartbreaking that he couldn’t pull it together for her. I think there are bigger issues going on than his ADHD that needs to be handled. 

Why does the queen get space and help with her anxieties and grief, but when Wilhelm is struggling he gets no support and is seen as embarrassing and problematic???? 

Why the fuck was it Wilhelm's responsibility to teach Simon what not to do? Obviously, this kid who has never been in the public eye has no idea what he should or shouldn’t do, it almost seems like it was deliberate to get Wilmons relationship to fail idk. It would have been so easy to get something to teach him some basic media training. It's just disturbing how the court had absolutely zero regard for Simon’s safety. 

I’ve seen people talk about Wilhelm being controlling over Simon. Is it acceptable or excusable behavior? Absolutely not, but let me put things into perspective. Wilhelm was raised in an abusive and very controlling environment. His opinions and feelings didn’t matter, and he was told it was love, so it made sense that he would try to do the same for Simon and expected him to go along with it. I think expecting Wilhelm to have healthy relationship skills is unrealistic, and the show never pretended he did. It’s been pretty obvious throughout that Wilhelm consistently projects his feelings and emotions onto other people. 

I still don't know if Simon was breaking up with Wille or not, or they were just trying to frame it that way to scare us (honestly hoping it leads into a more mature conversation), but if he was… Wilhelm had it coming. He hasn’t been handling things very well and is taking it out on Simon, which is just not okay, and he doesn’t deserve that.  

Before this season, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Wille abdicating, cause i still had this fantasy in my head of him as this queer king, but after everything I’ve seen this season, it’s so obvious how much this institution is killing him. He needs to get out and heal from his traumas and find out who he really is without all those rules and pressures.

I don’t even know if I want Wilmon to be an endgame. Obviously, I do, but at this point, I don’t think that’s what’s best for either of them. It’s been very clear this season how much they don’t (at the moment) fit into each other's lives.. Either some major things have to change (Wille abdicating) or they need to split up. I just hope that both boys get a good ending, even if it’s not with each other. 

I don’t know... I’m emotionally exhausted, there are so many plot lines and I really don’t know how they are going to fix everything in one episode.

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU: HOSEOK’S ENDING

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Red Queen!Hoseok x fem reader

Word count: 1,645

Note: There’s no tag list for the separate endings. If you haven’t read the series yet, you can find the intro here or find it on my masterlist which is linked at the end of the imagine

Every single one of them were amazing and beyond perfect, but your heart seemed to be pulled towards one of them in particular.

You turned your attention to Hoseok, who had a hopeful expression on his face. As soon as he made eye contact with you, he smiled knowingly. You gave a shy grin, darting your gaze to the checkered marble floors  momentarily while letting out a long breath.

"I choose Hoseok."

An excited noise escaped The Red King. He was unable to hold back his enthusiasm as he rushed over and hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground, spinning in a circle.

"Thank you, Y/n. Thank you. You have no idea how happy you've just made me." He whispered once he set you down.

You grinned widely at him as he pecked you on the cheek.

Brief goodbyes were said to the six boys. Hoseok promised to attend one of Taehyung's tea parties as the both of you left Jin's castle, waving at everyone as you made your exit.

Upon returning to Hoseok's castle, one of the guards rushed up to him.

"Your highness! Thank goodness you're back. They didn't try to hurt you, did they?"

"No." Hoseok chuckled. "Actually, we patched things up. It's something that should have been done a long time ago."

"Ah. I'm happy to know everything has been resolved."

"I am too."

Hoseok led you the rest of the way across the courtyard and into the massive castle he called home.

"Do you want anything, pretty?" He asked.

"No, I'm fine. I could use a nap though, if I'm being honest. It's been a long day."

"Of course. You've been through a lot."

He carefully took hold of you hand and guided you up a staircase that led to the second level of the castle. The hallway you walked down looked familiar, as it was the same one you were brought down earlier when Hoseok was giving you a tour.

The both of you made your way down the long corridor until you entered Hoseok's room.

"I can have some nice pajamas made for you. In the meantime, you'll just have to wear some of mine. Is that okay?"

You nodded, the thought of wearing his pajamas making you giddy.

Hoseok began to rummage through his dresser drawers, letting out an "Ah!" when he found what he was looking for, pulling out a set of neatly folded red silk pajamas.

"Here you go, sweetheart. These should be nice and comfortable. I'll step out in the hall and let you change."

You thanked him timidly, taking the stack of pajamas from his hands while he left the room.

The clothes Jin had provided you with were comfortable, but Hoseok's pajamas seemed like they'd be more suitable for napping.

You swapped your current outfit for the red silk pajamas. The pants had metallic gold hearts going down the sides of the legs while the shirt had hearts around the cuffs of the sleeves. You briefly imagined what Hoseok would look like wearing them, a smile creeping onto your face at the mental image.

The sleepwear was a little big on you, but that was the best part about wearing his clothes.

You took your old attire and went to open the door, finding a servant standing outside the room instead of Hoseok.

"I was sent to get your old clothes." The servant spoke.

You handed over the clothes from Jin and thanked the man before watching him scurry off.

Hoseok then rounded the corner, hurrying over and apologizing for running off. He had been talking with the tailors to try and get you some pajamas of your own.

When he stopped rambling, Hoseok was able to get a good look at you, his cheeks instantly turning pink at the way his pajamas hung off your frame.

"You look so cute!" He gushed, lifting you off the ground to spin you a few times.

When he set you down, he squished your cheeks, making cute noises while doing so.

"Look at your cute little hands. The sleeves swallow them whole! And look at your cute toes! Those pants are so long they cover your feet!" He went on.

Your face was set ablaze by his gushing, getting bashful due to all the praises.

His cheery personality had quite the effect on you. Watching his over-the-top reaction had you murmuring under your breath, "You're so cute."

"No you're so cute!" He beamed, pulling you back into his room. "Just give me a minute and I'll get in some pajamas too. Then we can have that nap."

He scampered over to his dresser and pulled out some pajama pants that looked identical to the ones you wore before running across the hall to change.

An unconscious smile crept onto your face as you made yourself comfortable on his bed, sitting on the edge of it.

While waiting for Hoseok to return, you scanned his room, taking everything in and picturing living your life in an enormous castle. It would take some getting used to, but you were confident you'd love it there.

The sound of Hoseok reentering the room grabbed your attention and when you saw him, your breath caught in your throat.

He was only wearing pajama pants. Your eyes widened as they dragged down his slim and toned torso, unable to tear your gaze away, wondering how it was possible that someone with a face as bright as his could have a body like that.

The door slammed shut and your eyes snapped up to Hoseok's face, meeting his gaze. His features held an amused and mischievous look that differed greatly from his usual happy demeanor. You quickly cleared your throat and diverted your eyes, pretending as if you weren't just drooling over his body.

"What's got you so distracted, princess?" He sauntered over, his voice taking on a far different tone than before.

His eyes visibly darkened, his red bangs hanging low in front of his brown irises, which only made him more desirable.

"I could see the way you were checking me out." His voice carried a sultry tone. "You can't deny it."

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you.

"Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" He inquired, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip.

"I..." You trailed off, struggling to find words.

"Ah. You're flustered, dear. Let me help." He rasped before slamming his beautiful lips against yours.

Your arms and legs instinctively wrapped around him to keep him close while your hands ran up and down his bare back, feeling every inch of soft skin under your palms and fingertips. There was no easing into the kiss as Hoseok bit down on your bottom lip, a soft gasp escaping you. He tilted his head to the side, slotting your mouths closer together which made you melt under him.

Your hands were unable to stay in one place for long and moved up to thread your fingers through his dark red hair. He hummed against your lips, shivering lightly at the sensation of your nails grazing his scalp. His hand, which was planted on your waist, caressed your skin, lightly squeezing every so often.

Initially, the plan was to take a nap, but you couldn't be too upset with how things played out.

Hoseok pulled away after what left like a long time and also not long enough. Both of you were huffing and panting, his shoulders and chest heaving up and down with each breath. It was quite a sight.

"I... didn't know you could be like that."

"Then you don't know me very well." He smirked.

Two weeks later

In the past couple weeks you had lived with Hoseok, you were able to learn a lot about him. He's really... extra. When he does anything, he goes all the way. He had done so much for you it was hard to keep track of it all. He had a closet full of clothes made just for you, including about six different dresses. He even had a tiara made because, "You're my princess and a princess needs a crown."

Never had a man treated you the way Hoseok had, and honestly, it was making your head spin. He was practically at your beck and call, always ready to give you whatever you needed, though you never really needed anything, he was always ready.

"Y/n!" Your name was called out in a singsong voice from somewhere outside the kitchen.

"Yes, Hobi?"

Hobi. A nickname you'd picked up from the others, as that's what they sometimes called him.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." You responded as casually as possible, hastily scrambling to hide the huge breakfast you weren't quite finished with.

"Did you make breakfast?"

"No."

"Sunflower, you're too nice."

You frowned in disappointment.

"What's wrong?"

"It's not done."

"What do you mean?"

"I needed to pour us up some juice."

He started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"It's not a big deal." He said between laughter.

"It is to me." You huffed, pulling a pitcher of juice out of the fridge and pouring it into two glasses.

"Thank you, sunflower." Hoseok kissed your forehead appreciatively.

You smiled, all the mild frustration you felt melting away in an instant.

"You even made the pancakes heart-shaped! You're adorable!" He squeaked as you sat down at the table.

"Just for you, love. Sorry the kitchen is a bit of a mess. There's a sink full of dishes to wash."

"That's okay. I'll wash them for you."

"I'm the one that got them dirty."

"You cooked this incredible breakfast, so I'll wash dishes. It's a fair trade."

"You're too perfect, How are you so nice to me all the time?" You whined.

"Because I love you." He beamed.

"I love you too, Hobi."

Masterlist ᝰ

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

[medicinal-doll]

Mr.America.

Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You love your new job but a certain team member just rubs you the wrong way.maybe you're wrong about him.

Warnings:Dub-con/Non-con,Dom/sub dynamic,fingering,p in v sex, slight dacryphilia degrading,slight mind-break,choking,hair pulling,spanking, manipulation, rough sex,

A/N: If you wanna skip to the smut I marked it with three dotted lines

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me

.......

You've been employed at stark industries for some time now, and you love your job. Though it is an office job there's never a dull moment.You get sneak peeks at all the latest technology and sometimes you get to take stuff home.

You love all your coworkers. And in such a short time you've moved up so much that you even have encounters with some of the avengers.

But there is one small thing about the job that unsettles you from time to time.

That man....

America's golden boy and everyone's favorite hero.The prime example of american patriotism and justice.

Steve Rogers

Everyone at the office seems to love him.They practically worship the ground he walks on.I mean who wouldn't given who he is, and ideally you would too.

It's just that... he's so fucking creepy.

Clearly you're seeing something that no one else is. Because everyone else just eats his charisma up.

But it's the way he stands a little too close, his posture allowing him to tower over you.It's the way his gaze lingers on you just a little to long.

It's small gestures like those that just give you the heebie jeebies.

Hence why you avoid him like the plague.

Sadly, he still finds just the right loophole to effortlessly insert himself into your personal space. Undetected by the suspicion of others.

..........

Tony gave one of his usual speeches to the entire staff celebrating the month's accomplishments.

These speeches are always followed by an after party. At stark industries only higher up members are allowed. So the guests mostly consist of your coworkers and the avengers.

"You, backroom now" Tony says as he passes you by.

This isn't uncommon. Tony knows you can keep a secret.So he uses your ears as a vice for his many- many complaints and rants.

But, that's where he keeps the good alcohol so you don't mind all that much.

...........

Sat in the room you wait for Tony. But when he comes in there's someone else tailing him.

The familiar blonde and brunette locs fill your vision and your body tenses.

Steve notices you instantly and his eyes light up.

....

His presence albeit annoying, was mostly tolerable due to the fact that your attention was mostly focused on Tony's drunk rambling about some uptight board members.

The evening was going quite well. Until his cellphone rang.

"Shit gotta be out for a sec" Tony stands eager to make a quick exit.

"I trust you two can keep each other company" he winks.

Stark leaves the room and then there's silence.

It's barely been 5 minutes since stark left and you already feel his eyes on you. He's blatantly looking and what's even more disgusting is that he's not even trying to hide it.

"I know I make you uncomfortable"

You turn your head and look at him, slightly thrown off by his statement.

"Call me dumb but I can't figure out what I did to make you feel that way"

"Call it a hunch" you think silently to yourself.

"I thought that if I spent enough time with you"

"Or if I was nice enough you'd see I'm not all that bad but..."

He chuckles pitifully to himself.

"you don't have to worry anymore I get the hint"

He slowly stands centering his muscular frame.

"I'll leave you alone from now on"

Steve heads towards the door not even sparing you a second glance.

"goodnight enjoy the rest of your evening" he says with a smile then turns to leave.

Shit, you hate that you feel bad. You couldn't even make A case against him he hasn't done anything wrong.Any sane person would say you're just being an asshole.

And in the end you caved.

"Steve wait-"

He stops and you both lock eyes the faintest hint of a smile dusting his lip.

.......

Safe to say, Tony never came back not that the two of you noticed.Because A few drinks later the whole vibe of the room changed completely.

You don't know if it was the alcohol making you more susceptible to his charm but Steve is actually really funny and down to earth.

You two talked nonsense laughing and drinking the whole night away.

"Go out with me" he says with stars in his eyes face flushed red from the liquor.

You don't know what came over you.

"Okay...." You say nervously a small sheepish smile in your expression.

.........

Dinner was breathtaking, Steve showed up to your door at 8pm with the prettiest bouquet of roses.

And he was such a gentleman, holding open the car door for you. pulling out your chair.

You giggle lightly at something funny he said.

"You know I was wrong about you"

His eyebrow peaks up in interest .

"oh really" he smiles amusingly before playfully leaning in "do tell more".

You laugh off your nervousness.

"well...to be honest I found you creepy"

An expression of shock crosses his face.

"really?" He says voice coated in disbelief "I mean I could tell that you were uncomfortable but creepy c'mon"

You giggle "I know I know it's stupid and you didn't do anything I promise I just got a weird vibe".

"Yeah some vibe" he chuckles to himself.

"well I'm glad to find out your actually really sweet Steve" "I mean the flowers and the restaurant, this has all been so amazing"

Steve smiles "I'm glad you changed your mind about me"

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

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

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

You feel the warm hum of the car as Steve drives you back to the apartment.

The ride back has a completely different feel from the drive to dinner. it's oddly silent, but you don't mind. it's good comedown time from the whirlwind of events and conversation that took place earlier.

Steve pulls into the car garage and smoothly parks, taking the keys out of the ignition then turning to face you.

"well tonight was really great Steve" you beam.

"We should do this again soon"

Steve smiles eerily at you then places a hand on your thigh.

You giggle nervously.

Steve breathes out a heavy sigh playing with the hem of your dress. ignoring your discomfort completely as if your just some mannequin in a mall.

"You have good intuition"

He laughs darkly.

"I mean everyone else just eats my shit up but not you..." He thumbs at your dress " not you..."

"that time I was gonna walk out at tony's party, that was a last ditch effort "

He smirks.

" I wasn't really gonna start leaving you alone...not really"

A chill runs up your spine at his callous tone.

"But to my surprise you finally fell for it".

"Steve..." You look at him with all the fear in your eyes. praying to God this is just some dumb prank preying on your paranoia.

Steve paused in thought and stops playing with your dress and sighs.

"I guess it's time I show you who I really am"

At that last word every door in the car locks in unison as Steve sizes you up with a carnal hunger in his eyes.

You back up against the door tears teetering on the edge of your corneas.

"Steve please..." Your voice cracks.

Steve just glares at you as if you just spoke an alien language to him.

He once again ignores your tears. something he's most likely used to by now and climbs into the back seat.

He seats himself to a relaxed man spread with his arm resting above the open empty seat.

You both stare at eachother trying to read the others mind.

"Come here" he says in a low commanding tone.

You sniffle softly "I don't want to" the tears start to run down your face.

Steve breathes in annoyance before lunging at you. dragging your thrashing body to the backseat.

"No! Let me go !" You try to hit him but any attempt you make he just restrains you more till you're sat on his lap.him holding both of your wrists together with one hand.

"Stop being such an ungrateful whore"

You violently struggle against him trying to free your hands.

"I treat you nice and take you to dinner and this is how you repay me" he says clearly disappointed by your behavior.

You continue to hit him, crying while you try to get away.

"Stop embarrassing yourself" he says unbothered by your frantic state.

A loud slap is placed against your bottom, and his superhuman strength makes it hurt like hell.

A choked sob leaves your throat, the searing burn on your ass most likely bright red.

Steve rubs your butt in soothing circles.

And you sniffle and sob quietly.not resisting anymore.cause if you take another hit like that you don't think you'll be able to walk much less run away.

"Now isn't that better sweetie, you like it when I'm nice to you don't you" Steve whispers softly as he goes to wipe your tears, but you dodge his touch.

In your head you're furiously shaking your head no until you feel a hand pulling your dress up.

"Steve please! I'll do anything just don-"

Steve rips your panties off of you as you yelp in shock.You start squirming against him again but he places A hand on your butt warningly.

"Behave or I won't be so nice"

He's being nowhere near nice or whatever he's telling himself in his fucked up head.

You see Steve's hand slowly dip between your legs. you shut your eyes and hide your face in his collar. too scared to watch what's gonna happen next.

Steve seems to find your behavior cute as his fingers dust over your folds.

"Don't worry bunny I just want to make you a little more agreeable"

Two thick fingers are jammed into your unprepared hole.You yelp shaking from the sudden intrusion.

Steve starts working his fingers in and out of you While he binds your wrists together tightly with his other hand.

You manage to muffle the involuntary moans with the fabric of his clothes but when his fingertips hit that deep sensitive spot inside, it catches you off guard.

"Ah!-" a pleasurable moan escapes your lips.

Steve chuckles "Hm... there she is...my good girl"

"No I'm no-Ah!" You try to talk back but Steve just keeps grinding his thick fingers into your spot over and over again.

You can't take it.

"No!" You cry not wanting to orgasm from such a horrendous act.

With a few more strokes from his fingers you cum on him, whimpering and whining bucking your hips up like a slut.

"Mmn... good girl" Steve says as he plays with the white liquid leaking from your hole. mesmerized by how much there is and how nicely it coats his fingers.

You look up in horror as you see him start to lick his fingers clean with his tongue.

He locks eyes with you, dark gaze staining his irises.

"You try it honey" he shoves his fingers down your throat and you taste yourself on your tongue as he forces you to gag on his fingers.

Steve holds your nose closed with his other hand as you panic for oxygen.

"that's right honey taste every last drop of your slutty little cunny"

So worn out from what he just did, you don't even hear his belt unbuckle.

Steve let's you go completely as you gasp for air, falling on your side into the empty seat next to him.

He grips your hips with both hands pulling them flush against his cock.

"Steve no! Don't!please-"

"Fuck!!-"you slam your head down into your arms and start crying.

Steve fully sheathes his erect cock inside of you.

Steve groans lowly as his cock twitches from the tightness.

It's so fucking big. he hasn't even moved yet but his tip resting against your womb is driving you crazy. you can feel every inch of him.

He slightly drags his cock out of you before slamming it back inside, You cry out again.

Steve roughly pumps his cock into you and you can feel your brain melting.

Losing any sense of what's being done to you, all you can focus on is the ache between your legs.

His cock hits against all the ridges in your pussy.

You bury your head into your arms not wanting him to hear your moans as your cunts clamps down around his cock milking him for cum.

Steve knows what your doing and is quick to correct it.

"Oh no you don't dolly I wanna hear it"

Steve pulls your head up by your hair.

You try to pull your head away but he has a death grip on your scalp.

Steve slows his motions for a minute and kisses up to your ear whispering.

"Be a good little whore and moan all nice'n pretty for me okay baby"

Your eyes widen in a mixture of fear and embarrassment before he places a commanding hand on your hip once again.

"Steve wait- Ahh! Fucking fuck! ahh!"

Steve breeds your pretty little cunt like an animal.Hitting at your spot repeatedly, it feels too good you try to push his hands off of you.

But that just makes him laugh as he angles his hips to hit your spot just right with every thrust.

You moan whimper and whine. your butt writhing against his hips on its own free will.

Your pussy is so fucking in love with him it drools a little every time he pulls out, leaving a shameful puddle beneath your body's.

"S-steve don't I can't cum anymore stop ah!" You plead barely able to think straight.

"Quit being such a whiny bitch and take it"

Steve wraps both of his hands completely around your throat and forces your head down against the seat then climbing up on top mounting you like a horse.

His hips come crashing down into your soaked pussy in a fury of thrusts.You start word vomiting as you feel his hand clench around your throat as he nears his orgasm.

"Fuck Steve use me fuck! breed me like a little bitch please! please please-"

Steve slaps his hips against yours and you feel his balls tense and untense as he cums deep inside your canal.

You can't fucking think speak or do anything.

You just lie there feeling his spunk seep into your swollen womb.

He gets off of you and tucks himself back into his pants.You hear the doors unlock but you're too broken to move.

Steve hot and sweaty breathes out a heavy sighs catching his breath from the exertion.

Steve rolls his eyes at you thinking you're just being a drama queen.

He leans over you and you flinch, but he's actually reaching for the door.

He pushes it open.

"You should get some rest"

Then turns his attention back to your trembling form.You wearily meet his gaze, your body far from recovered.

"You don't want to miss work do you bunny?"

You slowly shake your head no at him too scared to argue.

"Good then get out" he says coldly.

"Unless you're desperate for a round two"

Your eyes widen.

That's enough to get you stumbling out of the back seat but you struggle to stay balanced on your feet.

"Oh and by the way"

What could he want now.

"don't wear those short skirts at work"

"I'm tired of the staff looking at what belongs to me"

What the hell have you gotten yourself into. you would've talked back to him but seeing as all the strength has been siphoned from your body all you can do is nod.

Steve smiles at your compliance.

"C-can I go now" you ask nervously.

Steve nods endearingly and you slowly make your way towards the elevator.

Steve laughs to himself as you struggle to walk, almost falling on your ass at some points.He smirks getting into the driver's seat as the elevator doors close.

You see his car drive by as he leaves eyeing you like property.

You gulp and swallow your breath fearful that your employment to stark industries could turn into you being an indentured sex slave to Captain America.

You shut your eyes as the elevator moves through the floors.reeling from the events caused by your lack of caution and surplus of trust.your body still aches from what he did.

You wince at the thought of tomorrow, cause without a doubt Steve will be right there.

Ready to ruin you all over again.

[fukae-flwr]

"You are NOT My Enemy!"

Tw: mentions of death and ptsd (longer one shot sorry not sorry)

He awoke to the sounds of loud gasping, near the precipice of being a scream but not quite there. The walls were unbelievably thin, and with his unmatched hearing, there was no way he wouldn't have heard it. He wasn't in a deep slumber to begin with, not after the day he's had. Ominis looked over to his left to find Sebastian soundly asleep, with soft snores coming from him. It wasn't surprising to find Sebastian had climbed into his bed in the middle of the night. They often shared a bed, but in this situation, trying to get out without waking him would be quite difficult.

He slowly and carefully pulled his body from the mattress, only for Sebastian to stir.

"Where are you going?" Sebastian mumbled, barely awake, eyes still closed.

"For a glass of water. I'll be right back." Ominis whispered, his wand in hand. As he reached the door, he heard the soft snores of Sebastian return once more. Chuckling to himself how easily his partner could fall right back asleep, he exited the guest room into the hall. The cottage wasn't very big, but it was definitely larger than any back in Feldcroft. Edith seemed to be doing quite well for herself, for someone on the run from the ministry.

With his wand giving him a vague glimpse to his surroundings, he walked the hall till he heard soft footsteps in front of where Edith's door was located. The sound was much smaller and lighter than any full adult, so it had to be her house elf. His assumption was correct when the elf's voice greeted him quietly.

"Oh good evening, Mr.Ominis. Was there something the matter?" Penny whispered.

"Good evening, Penny. No, not at all. I was simply wondering if Edith was alright. I heard something from my room." Ominis explained. He heard the small elf's heart pick up a tad bit, seemingly nervous all the sudden.

"Oh um well Penny really shouldn't say. It is not Penny's place..." she mummbled, talking relatively fast. Ominis immediately knelt to the ground in front of the elf.

"Penny, please. If something is the matter, you must tell me." Ominis pleaded softly. There was a moment of silence before she let out a soft sigh.

"Mistress Edith has terrible nightmares. Most nights, there is no issue. Only Mistress doesn’t sleep much, but there are certain nights when Mistress Edith wakes horribly. She often calls for Penny to bring her tea on those nights and then never leaves her room for quite some time. Mistress usually comes back after a day or so but Penny worries for Mistress during that time." Penny rambled quietly.

Ominis blinked, making sure he was understanding, trying to listen carefully with how quickly she was speaking. He had to ignore the soft creak of a door behind them just to focus on Penny's spill of words. He knew Sebastian must've gotten up from hearing their soft chatter.

"Where is she now?" Ominis asked.

"Penny just brought Mistress Edith a cup of tea. She's in her room. Please help her. Penny is very worried." Penny begged.

Ominis felt bad for the elf. To be so worried about her master, it was apparent how much she cared about Edith.

Ominis nodded, not sure how he'd be able to help with something like this. He wasn't even sure if she would let him help. They weren’t as close as they used to be, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. He still cared for her, and no one should cry alone.

He carefully took hold of the handle to Edith's room and surprisingly found it unlocked. Quietly, he opened the door and immediately heard the tell-tale sign of crying. Soft wet sniffs, and her voice in a whisper, muttering something about being useless and apologies. He moved from the door frame, closing the door till there was only a crack. He knew the one lingering in the shadows was probably wanting to listen in, even though he could easily come in as well.

"G..go away, Penny," Edith's voice came out in a harsh whisper. He had never heard her voice so fragile before, not even when they were at hogwarts.

"No need to be so harsh with her. She's only trying to help you." Ominis suggested, making his presence known. His only response was the sound of her sudden stop of noise, no sniffing, no short breath, nothing. His wand didn't give him the best image of the dark room, but what he could make out was the small table in front of him and her on the window alcove.

He moved forward carefully, his feet on carpeted floors, and his wand blessing him with the sight of her outline. She was hunched over, and possibly had her hair covering her face and shoulders.

"D..Did I wake you?" She asked, attempting to sound composed. It wasn't fooling him.

"Indeed, the walls are extremely thin." Ominis stood infront of her, looking down where she sat.

"Apologies. I'll be sure to use a silencing charm next time." She responded bitterly.

"Don't bother. It'll only be more concerning if your room is deathly silent. I'll be inclined to check on you more." Ominis shrugged. It was so clear the warmth she had when she spoke earlier today had left with the sun, leaving only the cold and shadows of night. She was always distant, but this felt so very different.

"What do you want, Ominis?" Edith grumbled, her tone coming off exhausted and annoyed.

"For you to tell me what is going on. Why are you here crying alone?" Ominis knelt down, lowering himself to her level.

"Nothing that concerns you, so leave." She spoke harshly. If Ominis had learned anything from Sebastian it was how to never give up. He wasn't going to just leave her be despite how he probably should have.

"I'd say anything causing you pain is my concern." He stated calmly. He was not going to hide his feelings. He cared for her and it was clear she needed someone to lean on for a moment despite her impeccable walls she had built. He carefully reached for her hand against the cushions of the alcove only for her to violently retreat from his touch.

"Why do you care, Ominis?!" She roared, catching him off gaurd, "Why does it matter?! I abandoned you and Sebastian. I let everyone I cared about die! Now Anne's in trouble, and it's all my fault! You are an aurora, and I am your enemy! I embody everything you hate, so don't pretend to care! Just hate me like everyone else and leave me alone!" She raged, pulling away from him. He could hear the tears from the cracking of her voice. Ominis quickly took hold of both of her wrists and held them close to his chest. She struggled to free herself, but he wasn't letting go. Not now, not ever.

"Let me go!"

"Listen to me! You are not my enemy! You will never be my enemy! The ministry could pay a thousand times over, and I will never turn against you. I have always cared for you, and I'm sorry I can't ease your pain." Ominis held onto her, terrified she'd slip away if he loosened even a little bit. Her trembling hands in his felt so delicate, just like that night at the gala.

She had gone still in his hands. Her heart racing so fast he feared he was making things worse. He didn't know how to help her, but he so desperately wanted to. Was this a fraction of what Sebastian felt, trying to save Anne? By Merlin, it hurt so much to know she was suffering and he couldn't do anything to help.

"I can't make the pain go away, but I can listen. I can comfort you when you need it, but...please don't suffer alone. I don't know who you've lost, but you shouldn't shoulder the burden all by your lonesome. I am here, Edith." Ominis begged, his voice full of the pain he felt hearing her tears, hearing that unfamiliar fragile voice. He stroked her shaking wrists with his thumb, hoping it brought some sort of comfort.

She was so silent despite being so close, had it not been for her thundering heart, and her shaking wrists, he would've thought she vanished. The silence was defening before he heard her shuddering voice. A break in her walls, and hear the tears once more.

"I...I couldn't save any of them." Her voice came out so soft, barely a whisper. Her voice was what had cracked yet he felt it in himself.

"I couldn't save Professor Fig, nor Lodgok, and now Anne" he felt her head collapse onto her wrists he was holding. He couldn't say anything. He just held her weight and listened to her sorrows.

"I watched them die. I did nothing but watch! And we'll lose Anne too because I can't save anyone!" She sobbed into him. Finally releasing her arms, he wrapped around her and pulled her close into his chest. She was too distraught to care. She just cried into him, her tears almost making him fall apart. He couldn't, though. She needed him to be strong so she could break apart.

He remembered the day Professor Fig had died. She had seemed so drawn from everyone. Hardly spoke to anyone. Sebastian even said how she sat away from her house at the far end of the tables. When he had spoken with her, she barely spoke of Professor Fig, only simply moving on to tell Sebastian what she had learned about Anne's curse. The following year, she hardly ever mentioned Fig and seemed like everything had been forgotten. But it appears she had been suffering for so long. He didn't know much of this Lodgok, only bits Sebastian and her mentioned. A goblin friend of hers, but that's all she'd say. Now she was taking in this situation with Anne onto herself.

"You were a child, Edith. There's only so much you could've done. You can't blame yourself for their deaths. It wasn't your fault. And we will find Anne in time. Don't worry. You have Sebastian and I." Ominis stroked her hair as she shook.

"I..I failed him. I could've saved him...and I didn't!" Edith cried into his shoulder. Her grip around him tightened as if she was clinging to him for dear life. The way she stuttered with her words shattered his soul. How could he fix this? The one person cared for the most in this world and all he could do was stand by, watching her fall apart.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. He knew it wasn't him she apologizing to. Though he wished he could give her the closure she needed. The only ones who could remained silent in the afterlife.

"You can't save everyone, but we won't fail Anne. I promise," Ominis assured. Holding her in his arms egnited a feeling in him, a feeling of protectiveness. He would do everything in his power to assure Edith didn't suffer alone anymore. And knew Sebastian in the hall would do so as well. They were not going to loose her again, not even to herself.

Hehehehehehehehehe! I finished my 3rd play through of the game and realized Mc hardly has time to process any deaths, so I made it my hc that Mc absolutely has ptsd from witnessing so much death from their 5th year. Hoped you guys enjoyed!!!

(Update: I added more cus I know i can do better!! (°͡ ͜ʖ °͡) )