#she's always gonna take a third option

[review-anon]

Lets stir up drama! Sora finds herself in the under a mistletoe in the cross section between Yuki and Yoruko, will her heart make the choice or her programing?

Of course this has to happen to me...

Honestly Sora, I don't mind if you go for Yoruko as I know you have an actual connection with her.

And I know how deep your programming goes with Yuki so if you kiss him, I-I wouldn't mind.

Both of you aren't helping here!

Oh for the love of MonoLabs....JUST KISS THEM BOTH AT THE SAME TIME SORA!

R-right I can do that.

*All three kiss each other*

There we go that wasn't so bad now, was it?

No it wasn't.

[dellamortte]

“there’s no need to doubt yourself. and if you do, i’ll be here to convince you”

do you want me to cry huh?????? do you want me to CRY??????? BECAUSE I’M GONNA WTFFF LUCANIS

[sydmarch]

it was so stupidly difficult to find any nutritionist who has experience with arfid & takes insurance so after having to go through all these referrals my therapist sent me & jumping through hoops I lowkey hate the lady lmao feels like such a waste of time & energy

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (09)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.7k

Aliyah's Notes: y'all are getting fed cause this chapter and the next one are gonna be cute asf so enjoy :)

Three days before the engagement party felt like an endless marathon, with every hour packed to the brim with decisions and errands. The morning started early—too early for your liking—as Aisha and Nina practically dragged you out of bed.

Nina, ever the “mom” of the group, had already prepared an itinerary. She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, her phone in hand, while you slumped in a chair, still clinging to the remnants of sleep. “Alright, ladies,” Nina began, her tone brisk, “we’ve got a packed schedule. Venue first, then flowers, then caterers. We’ll fit in the designer appointment after lunch, assuming someone,” her eyes flicked pointedly toward you, “doesn’t take forever to make decisions.”

Aisha smirked, sipping her coffee as she leaned against the counter. “You know she’ll take forever. She was debating the color of napkins for twenty minutes for her birthday party.”

“Because they matter!” you protested, sitting up straighter, your natural energy kicking in. “The wrong napkin can throw off the entire table aesthetic. Imagine gold chargers with plain white napkins—horrible!”

Aisha groaned dramatically, while Nina pinched the bridge of her nose. “God give me strength,” Nina muttered in Tagalog under her breath before clapping her hands. “Alright, let’s move. The decorator is expecting us in twenty minutes, and I’m not letting us be late.”

The three of you piled into Nina’s car, and the drive to the venue was filled with your endless chatter. You couldn’t help yourself; you were excited. Ever since your night at Rafe’s, you’ve been walking around with a weight lift off your shoulders, and a smile on your face. “Okay, but seriously, do you think white and gold is too basic? Should I add a pop of color? Like blush pink? Or emerald green! Oh, that could be so chic—”

“Breathe, Miss. Yapper,” Aisha interrupted, shooting you a look from the front seat. “You’ve already settled on white and gold. Don’t backtrack now.”

“She’s just overthinking again,” Nina said from the driver’s seat, her voice calm but firm. “You always do this, sweetie. Just trust your instincts. They’re good… most of the time.”

“Most of the time?!” you repeated, feigning offense.

“Girl, you’re the one who almost ordered heart-shaped balloons for your ex’s retirement party,” your best friend deadpanned.

“He always complained about his job, alright! I thought he was happy to retire.”

The two of them burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in. They always knew how to make you laugh, even when your perfectionism threatened to take over.

When you arrived at the venue, the decorator was already waiting, surrounded by samples of linens, centerpieces, and lighting options. The grand ballroom looked beautiful even in its unfinished state, with its high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows letting in streams of sunlight. But you could already see a million tiny things that needed to be fixed or adjusted.

Nina took charge of logistics, confirming delivery times and setups with the decorator, while Aisha kept you in check. Every time you tried to change something—a table arrangement here, a floral display there—Aisha would cross her arms and give you a warning glare.

“Focus, Y/N. You’re going to drive this poor decorator insane,” Aisha muttered as you debated, for the third time, whether the table runners should have a satin or matte finish.

“It’s not insane to want things to be perfect,” you argued, though your voice was tinged with doubt.

“It’s insane when you’re deciding between two things that look exactly the same,” Aisha countered.

“Pale beige and normal beige are completely different—”

Nina swooped in to mediate, her tone soothing. “Look, kids, both options are gorgeous. Y/N, pick one and move on. We still have three more stops today.”

You sighed, finally nodding and pointing to the matte finish. The decorator gave you a grateful smile, and you moved on to the next decision.

By the time you left the venue, your head was spinning, but there was no time to slow down. The next stop was the florist, where the three of you pored over bouquets and arrangements.

“Peonies are elegant, but are they too soft for the theme?” you mused aloud, holding up a sample.

“Peonies are fine,” Nina assured you, already checking her phone for the next appointment.

“Roses are boring,” Aisha chimed in, inspecting a cluster of orchids. “But these could work. They’re dramatic. Like you.”

You stuck your tongue out at her, earning a rare laugh from Nina. “She’s not wrong,” Nina said with a small smile.

The florist walked you through the arrangements, but your perfectionism struck again. You wanted everything to complement the aesthetic without feeling overdone. Nina stepped in when she sensed you starting to spiral.

“Y/N, just pick a theme and stick with it,” she said gently but firmly. “You can’t have every flower in the world at your party. Less is more.”

Aisha nodded in agreement. “Listen to her. She’s right. For once.”

Nina rolled her eyes but didn’t dignify the comment with a response.

Eventually, you settled on a mix of peonies, orchids, and eucalyptus, feeling a little more confident as you left the florist.

Lunch was a quick stop at a café, where you barely had time to scarf down a sandwich before heading to your next appointment. The designer fitting was a whirlwind of fabrics, sequins, and pins, with you trying on dress after dress while Nina and Aisha offered their unfiltered opinions.

By the end of the day, you were utterly spent. You stumbled through the door of your apartment, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter onto the floor, and flopped onto the couch with a moan. Your feet ached, your head was pounding, and the thought of the work you have for tomorrow made you want to cry.

Just as you were debating whether to order takeout or crawl into bed and call it a night. Your phone buzzed—-your new phone that you bought yesterday after losing your original one and your keys at the charity event—-on the coffee table. You reached for it, squinting at the screen.

Rafe: “Longest. Day. Ever.”

A small smile tugged at your lips despite your fatigue. You propped yourself up against the armrest and typed back.

You: “Tell me about it. I’m so dead! Who knew choosing flowers could feel like a full-body workout?”

His response came almost immediately.

Rafe: “Yeah? Well, at least you didn’t have to run for AN HOUR!!! My legs feel like they’re about to give up on me.”

You: “Poor baby. Want me to send you a trophy for Most Exhausted Future Fiancé-to-Be?”

Rafe: “Ha. Ha. So funny.”

Rafe: “Are you sure we’re not married yet? You already sound like a nagging wife.”

The audacity of him made you chuckle and roll your eyes. You typed quickly, unable to help yourself.

You: “Excuse you? If I’m a nagging wife, then you’re a whiny husband.”

Rafe: “Whatever you say, nagging wife.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you sank further into the couch. The teasing back-and-forth was an oddly comforting way to unwind after such a chaotic day.

You: “Seriously though, did you at least eat? Or are you surviving off your ego again?”

Rafe: “Does a protein bar and water count?”

You groaned audibly, your fingers flying across the screen.

You: “No, Rafe. A protein bar and water do NOT count. A protein bar is not food; it’s a snack. Please tell me you’ve got something decent in your fridge.”

Rafe: “Define ‘decent’…”

You: “I’m going to kill you.”

Rafe: “That’s very romantic, baby, but you’re avoiding the question. What’s the verdict? Is my fridge decent enough for you, Your Honor?”

You: “No.”

You: “Knowing you, it’s probably full of water bottles, expired vegetables, and mystery leftovers. Am I wrong?”

Rafe: “I don’t like this attack on my character.”

You: “Answer the question, Cameron.”

Rafe: “Fine. Maybe you’re right. I don’t have the energy to argue. Or to cook, for that matter.”

You sighed again, a twinge of concern sneaking past your teasing. You guessed he pushed himself hard during training, but the least he could do was take care of himself after.

You: “Alright, what do you feel like eating? I’ll bring you something.”

Rafe: “What? No. You just spent all day running around. You don’t have to do that.”

You: “Too late. I offered, and I’m not taking it back. So, what’ll it be?”

Rafe: “...You’re really doing this, huh?”

You: “Absolutely.”

Rafe: “Fine. Surprise me. Just nothing too fancy. I’m starving.”

You: “Got it. Be there in an hour.”

Rafe: “Angel.”

Shaking your head, you pocketed your phone and headed to the kitchen. After a quick assessment of what you had on hand, you decided on a simple but satisfying dish: chicken biryani. 

Cooking helped you relax after the chaotic day. The process of measuring spices, chopping onions, and stirring the pot grounded you, your mind focused on creating something warm and filling. By the time the dish was done, the air was fragrant with the scent of saffron, cardamom, and cloves.

You packed the biryani into a container, added a side of pudding kheer for balance, and grabbed some naan for good measure. After a quick freshen-up, you were on your way to Rafe’s penthouse.

When he opened the door, the sight of him hit you like a punch to the gut. Rafe stood there in low-hanging sweatpants that clung to his hips, no shirt in sight, leaving every inch of his toned chest and sculpted abs on full display. His damp hair was a tousled mess, drops of water clinging to his skin, catching the light as they slid down the defined lines of his torso. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze raking over you with a mix of cocky amusement and exhaustion. The lazy grin tugging at his lips was enough to make your pulse stutter—and the way his voice dipped, low and teasing, when he finally spoke didn’t help. 

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Look who showed up. My nagging wife bearing gifts.”

You rolled your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the container in your hands instead of his sexy, very sexy abs. “You want dinner or not, Cameron? ‘Cause I can take it back?”

He instantly straightened up. “Come in, Your Honor,” he stepped aside to let you in, his grin widening when he saw the bag in your hand.

The penthouse was dimly lit, the warm glow of the city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You set the food on the kitchen island, trying to ignore the way he was watching you with that infuriating smirk.

You looked at your attire, and rolled your eyes. “Stop staring at my ass and grab plates,” you ordered, sounding stern.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, clearly amused, but he obeyed.

The two of you sat at the island, the meal between you. You put your hair in a bun, and said; “So, this is chicken biryani—” you pointed to it. “—and this is kheer and some naan.”

“This looks amazing, Y/N,” he let out a groan of appreciation.

You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. You ever had Asian food before?”

“I had sushi and ramen with my team—”

You chuckled. “I meant South Asian food, Rafe.”

“Oh. South Asian…”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You know, Indian, Sri Lankan, Pakistani, etc… Did you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t remember. I eat basic white man food, to be honest.”

“I realized,” you laughed. “Well, eat well.”

Rafe took his first bite, and his eyes widened. “Yo! This is delicious, what the fuck?”

You smiled, watching as he devoured the food like he hadn’t eaten in days. “Told you protein bars wouldn’t cut it—”

“You’re not going to eat?”

“I already ate,” you lied.

“Bullshit,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “Have some with me. I don’t like eating alone.”

You hesitated for a moment before giving in, grabbing a fork and joining him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, the tension of the day melting away with each bite.

For a brief moment, it didn’t feel like you were preparing for an engagement party or navigating the complicated arrangement that had brought you together. It felt easy, natural—like something that didn’t require overthinking.

You stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, rinsing off the plates and containers. Warm water rushed over your hands as you scrubbed away the remnants of biryani and naan. The scent of spices lingered in the air, a comforting reminder of the meal you’d shared. Behind you, Rafe leaned against the counter, his tall frame relaxed but his eyes fixed on you.

“You know,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the faucet, “you really don’t have to do this.”

“You’ve said that already,” you replied without turning around, focusing instead on rinsing the plate in your hand.

“Because I mean it. I can clean tomorrow,” he quipped, folding his arms across his bare chest.

A chuckle escaped you, and you tossed him a look over your shoulder. “Some of us were raised to clean up immediately after eating. It’s a brown girl thing—no one leaves the kitchen messy in my house.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Ah, so it’s cultural?”

“Hell yeah,” you replied, turning back to the sink. “If my mom ever caught me walking away from a pile of dishes, I wouldn’t live to see another day.”

“Sounds intense,” he teased, though his tone was laced with curiosity.

“You’re just white,” you shot back, and he laughed. “But also�� I kind of like it,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “It feels wrong to leave things undone. Like you’re disrespecting the meal or something.”

Rafe was quiet for a moment, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you, not with judgment but something that felt closer to admiration.

“You’re kind of incredible, you know that?” he said finally.

You blinked, caught off guard. “For doing the dishes? Your standards are low, Cameron.”

He laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “No, I mean… just in general. You don’t have to cook for me or clean up after me, but you do it anyway. And you don’t even make a big deal out of it. You’re just… thoughtful.”

His words made you pause, your hands still under the running water. For a man who often masked his feelings behind sarcasm and cockiness, the sincerity in his voice hit you harder than you expected.

“Well,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, “don’t get used to it. Just because I cleaned your kitchen tonight doesn’t mean I’m signing up to do it forever.”

Rafe grinned, stepping closer. “Noted. One-time deal.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you shut off the faucet and reached for the dish towel. “Besides, I wasn’t cleaning for you. I was cleaning for my own peace of mind.”

“Still,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, “thanks. For all of it.”

You glanced over at him, caught off guard again by the softness in his tone. The cocky grin he usually wore was replaced by something more subdued, more genuine. It made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t ready to think about.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, your voice quieter now. “Just food and a few dishes.”

“To you, maybe,” he said, leaning against the counter beside you. “But it’s been a while since anyone’s done something like this for me. I don’t even know the last time I had an actual home-cooked meal.”

That admission tugged at something deep inside you, a mix of sympathy and affection you weren’t quite prepared for. You focused on folding the towel in your hands, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks warmed.

“Well, someone has to make sure you don’t live off protein bars and bad decisions,” you said lightly, trying to steer the conversation back into familiar territory.

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Guess I should count myself lucky it’s you.”

Your eyes flicked up to his, and for a moment, you forgot how to respond. The way he was looking at you—soft, unguarded, and almost reverent—made your heart skip a beat.

“Alright, stop,” you said, breaking the moment and brushing past him toward the counter. “You’re making it weird.”

“Making what weird?” he asked, following you with an amused grin.

“Everything,” you shot back, grabbing your bag. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you slacking off while I did all the work. Next time, you’re cleaning.”

“Deal,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “As long as there’s a next time.”

You hesitated at the door, looking back at him. His smirk was still there, but so was that softness in his eyes, the one that made it hard to look away. Bag slung over your shoulder and shoes slipped back on, ready to leave Rafe’s penthouse and head home for what was left of the night. The day had drained you, and though the quiet domestic moment you’d just shared with him was nice—unexpectedly so—you still needed to recharge for tomorrow’s chaos.

“You don’t have to leave yet,” he said, almost too casually, as if trying to disguise the sincerity in his tone.

You paused, glancing back at him. “Rafe, it’s late. I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted. We both need sleep.”

He shrugged, his mouth curling into that boyish grin that usually meant trouble. “So? Five more minutes won’t hurt. Sit down, relax. You’ve been running around all day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but relented, curiosity getting the better of you. “Fine. Five minutes,” you muttered, dropping your bag onto the floor again and heading to the couch.

Rafe followed you, sitting on the other end of the couch, though he shifted closer. His arm rested along the backrest, his entire posture relaxed in a way that only made you more aware of him.

“So,” he began, his tone lighter now, “what did you actually do today? Besides fighting with tablecloths and flowers, I mean.”

You groaned, leaning back into the cushions. “It feels like that’s all I did. The decorators kept bringing me options that were either too tacky or too plain. And don’t even get me started on the florists. Nina kept trying to keep me on schedule, Aisha rolled her eyes at every single arrangement, and I was stuck in the middle.”

His laugh was low and warm. “Sounds like a nightmare.”

“It was,” you said, though there was a faint smile tugging at your lips now. “But somehow, it’s all starting to come together. Slowly. Painfully. I think we’re making progress.”

He tilted his head, watching you with that quiet intensity he always seemed to have when you weren’t paying attention. “You really care about this party, huh?”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze making it harder to brush off the question. “Yeah, I guess I do,” you admitted softly. “I mean, if we don’t make it believable then I’d have to go back to my country, and I can’t let that happen.”

Rafe was silent for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. The soft light in the room cast shadows across his face, making him look more vulnerable, less guarded than usual.

“You’re putting so much thought into it,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “More than anyone else would, I think.”

You shrugged, your gaze dropping to your hands. “Just doing what needs to be done. Nothing special.”

“It is special,” he said, his tone firm but gentle.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze for a moment that felt like it stretched on forever. There was something unspoken in his expression, something soft and unfamiliar that made your heart stutter.

“Okay, your turn,” you said quickly, needing to break the tension. “What did you do today, besides run yourself into the ground?”

His smirk returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Practice, drills, meetings. The usual.”

“You make it sound so thrilling,” you teased, crossing your arms.

“Oh, it’s a blast,” he said with mock enthusiasm. “Nothing like running suicides and lifting until your arms feel like they’re gonna fall off. And then sitting in a room listening to people tell you how to market yourself better.”

“Sounds glamorous,” you said, leaning back into the couch with a small laugh.

Rafe chuckled, his gaze softening as he watched you. “It’s not. But then again, you make flower arrangements sound like boot camp, so I guess we’re even.”

You smiled, letting the comfortable quiet settle between you for a moment. The hum of the city outside was faint but constant, a reminder of how late it had gotten.

“I should really go,” you said, breaking the silence and sitting up.

Rafe’s hand reached out, brushing against yours as he spoke. “You don’t have to.”

The softness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you stayed still, his fingers lingering near yours. The space between you suddenly felt smaller, charged with something neither of you were ready to name.

“Rafe,” you said gently, pulling your hand back, though your voice betrayed your hesitation.

“Stay a little longer,” he said, his eyes searching for yours. “This is… nice. Just sitting here. Talking.”

Your heart thudded in your chest at his words, and you looked away, pretending to straighten your bag. “I can’t. I’ve got another long day tomorrow, and so do you.”

He sighed but didn’t argue, leaning back into the couch. “Alright. But you owe me another five minutes next time.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you stood. “Sure, Cameron. I’ll pencil it into my busy schedule.”

He followed you to the door again, his presence warm and steady behind you. As you stepped into the hallway, you glanced back at him, your smile softer now.

As you moved toward the door, your bag slung over your shoulder, Rafe trailed behind you, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his sweatpants. The quiet between you was comfortable, a marked contrast to the constant noise of the day. Just as you reached for the handle, his voice broke the silence.

“So… my dad called today,” he said, his tone light but deliberate.

You paused, turning slightly to glance at him, curiosity flickering in your expression. “Oh? What about?”

Rafe leaned against the frame, his posture deceptively relaxed. “He wanted to ask about you.”

The corners of your mouth lifted in a faint smirk. “Me? Why? Should I be flattered or scared?”

He chuckled, though it came with a hint of exasperation. “Because you’re about to be my wife, and you should definitely be flattered. He’s been… curious, I guess. You’re kind of a hot topic at the moment.”

Your brow furrowed as you adjusted the strap of your bag. “What do you mean?”

Rafe shrugged, though his eyes flickered to yours briefly before looking away. “He’s been asking when he and Rose can meet you. Sarah’s been on my case about it too. She wants to meet you again. It’s like they’re more excited about this whole engagement thing than I am.”

There was an edge to his words, not quite bitterness but something close to it, and you stepped back from the door slightly, your curiosity deepening. “Is that… a bad thing?”

“No, it’s not bad,” he said quickly, though his jaw tightened ever so slightly. “It’s just… predictable. My dad’s all about appearances, and this engagement makes us look good. You make me look good.”

His words were meant to sound casual, but the weight beneath them was unmistakable. You softened your tone as you leaned against the couch. “Rafe, if you’re not comfortable with all this, you can tell me. I’m not going to—”

“It’s not that,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s just… complicated.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “How so?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “My family has this way of… making everything feel like a performance. You know? Like, they’re not just happy about this engagement because it’s a good thing for me. They’re happy because it’s a good thing for them. My dad’s already talking about how it’ll ‘strengthen the Cameron name,’ and Rose keeps mentioning how much she ‘adores your poise.’”

You blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard. “Wait, your step-mother said that? About me?”

He laughed lightly, nodding. “Yeah. I think she’s obsessed with you already.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Wow. And here I thought winning over your dad would be the hard part.”

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll grill you like a steak the second he gets a chance,” Rafe said, his tone teasing but his smile tinged with something softer. “He doesn’t trust anyone, especially not when it comes to me.”

You frowned at that, your arms crossing instinctively. “Why not? You’re… I mean, you’re his son. Shouldn’t he trust you the most?”

Rafe’s smile faltered for a split second before he masked it with another shrug. “Let’s just say my track record isn’t exactly spotless. And my dad… he’s always been more interested in results than reasons. This marriage? It’s a result he likes. That’s all.”

The raw honesty in his words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Finally, you stepped closer, your voice quieter now. “Rafe, if this is too much—if your family’s involvement is making it harder—I can talk to them. Set boundaries or whatever.”

He shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. “You don’t have to do that. It’s not your problem to fix.”

“Maybe not,” you said, your gaze unwavering, “but it’s my problem now too.”

“Such a good wife already,” he caressed your cheeks softly, the corner of his mouth twitched, his smirk returning faintly. “You’re really taking this whole ‘teamwork’ thing seriously, huh?”

“I’m a perfectionist,” you replied, matching his tone. “Can’t help it.”

He chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re too good at this, you know. My family’s already halfway in love with you, and you haven’t even met them yet.”

“Maybe I should be worried,” you teased, though there was a softness in your voice now.

“Don’t be,” he said, his tone quieter as he let his hand down your face. “If anything, they’re the ones who should be worried. You’re gonna walk in there, charm everyone without even trying, and leave me to deal with their unrealistic expectations.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and Rafe found himself leaning just a little closer, caught up in the warmth of the moment.

“Well, if they’re anything like you,” you said, your voice still tinged with amusement, “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

Rafe’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, something you couldn’t quite name. “They’re nothing like me,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His gaze lingered on yours, steady and unguarded in a way that made your breath catch.

“Rafe…” you began, your voice trailing off as his expression shifted ever so slightly, something unreadable flickering across his face.

But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. He straightened, his usual smirk slipping back into place like a mask. “You should probably get some rest,” he said, his tone lighter now. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift, but nodded. “Yeah. You too.”

He followed you to the door, his presence steady behind you as you stepped into the hallway. As you turned back to glance at him one last time, his expression softened again, his blue eyes holding yours for a beat longer than necessary.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you replied, your chest tightening slightly as you walked away, the weight of his gaze following you long after you’d gone.

chapter ten

[lustlovehart]

Hi! It's me again, I was wondering after recalling some stuff about reader and Rollo how would the twst monster cast react to Reader, I don't know, them asking about the earring she's always wearing and her telling them is from her partner (house husband). I mean, I know they'd react hella jealous but in different ways.

I know is annoying buuuut I like to imagine a what if, instead of going all alone towards the missions, Crowley allowed Rollo to accompany her and meeting all this creatures and Rollo being the bad (hater) policeman and Reader the (extremely) good one.

I'm sorry for asking so much Rollo 😭😭 it's just that he's so silly!

I love your works sooo much! And also how you draw the M!cast, they're all so pretty!! Love love 🫶

Cw: Jealousy, Marking mentions, gaslighting, Obsession, Rollo torturing Epel at the end

Omg! What a coincidence getting this ask after just writing a jealousy prompt in my inbox 😭

I’ve made it pretty consistent that you’re always referencing Rollo some way in your daily life. So I love making characters hear his name once a week and twitch their eye(s) at his mention. But for the most part, they all do act jealous!

The Pouty/Angry jealous: Riddle, Ace, Ruggie, Floyd, Rook, Epel, Malleus, Sebek, Skully

Whenever you mention Rollo’s name, they’re quick to cross their arms, possibly even give you a stink eye. They’ll ask you what’s so great about this ‘work husband’, he did make you do this alone. If he really cared, he would’ve came with you right? He might’ve cared for you at the foundation, but now he just threw you to the dangers of the world. They would never do that to you… So stop talking about him already.

The Sad jealous: Deuce, Cater, Jack, Azul, Kalim, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Silver, Neige, Fellow, Skully

The moment they see the way your face lights up looking at that star pattern fabric in your hand, they feel something. For some of them, it’s guilt, they can’t give you what he can, so maybe… he’s the better option for you than they are (Deuce, Jack, Silver, Neige, Skully). For others, they’re sad at the feeling of envy in their heart. It’s really not fair… This Rollo, gets to see everything side of you, your happiest, your saddest, your angriest, even your dearest. They want to see it too… Won’t you let them?

The ‘I’m just gonna leave my mark on you too’: Trey, Leona, Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Malleus, Lilia, Neige, Chenya

So, he gives you that earring. You won’t take it off. Ok. Easy fix, they’ll do something much more obvious. Whether it’s wrapping you in themselves, drawing a symbol of their soul on you, adorning you in their clothes/feathers, or even simply using their mouths, they’ll be more seen. He hopes if when you return to him, Rollo sees this mark.

Why be jealous when murder is a capability: Malleus

I hope everyone noticed he’s in each section, and he does go through these in the exact same order. Essentially, Rollo’s house sees no mercy, nor does his garden, or himself when he steps foot outside. Lightning… everywhere. Rollo get’s a certain sense of who it’s from, and he has to be physically stopped by Crowley from leaving to find you.

LMAO I love the Good cop bad cop energy Rollo and Reader would have if they went out together. Rollo is essentially the overprotective third wheel who blocks any potential suitors from you.

Anytime you’re nice to them, it’s immediately cancelled out by Rollo doing something devious.

An example:

You: Letting Epel drink your blood for like 2 minutes.

Rollo: Stabs him through the heart with a stake, Throws garlic at him, touches him with a silver fork, leaves him in the sun, places crosses on him, and dumps holy water on him. But places a really worn down bandaid on it because you’d be upset at him. He dgaf abt Epel 💀

Bonus: Rollo and Reader Dynamic

Synopsis: Absolutely smitten with you, and everyone else hates it 💀

[lotusunique]

Nights Like This

Armando Aretas x Fem! Reader

Mkay so while yall wait on this pt.3 of The engagement, ima give yall this lil story I been working on! Im ngl I did cut it in half this was long as HELL! So enjoy ❤️

“We should go out tomorrow night. We never do that anymore.", Kelly says grabbing her purse. "Yeah because you and your man are always boo'd up somewhere. Marcus isn't allowed out too many times in a row or Theresa will kick his ass. Mike is happily married now. And I refuse to be a third wheel on you two’s date" I explain.

“So why don't you invite Armando out.", She looks over to Armando who's looking through a case file. Since he helped take down McGrath and saved Callie, Mike tried to sort out a deal for him. He'll work out his sentence, here at AMMO, being apart of the tactical weapons team.

"Um absolutely not. He literally doesn’t know I exist in that way", I groan. "That’s not true. You just gotta make yourself known. Plus he’s kinda a dick. I don't know why you like him anyway.?”,she says damn

near screaming my secret. "Um firstly, shut up. What you wanna tell the whole world my secret?", I shush her. That’s all I fucking need. For Armando to find out I like him or WORSE. Mike and Marcus could find out. I’d never live it down.

"Invite him out or l'm gonna shout it from the rooftops.", Kelly gives an evil smirk.

"Shout what from the rooftops?", Mike looks over to us. "Oh nothing just that Y/n li-", you elbow her in the side. "That Y/n is going out with Kelly and Dorn tomorrow night", you give a tight lipped smile. "I'm so excited I could scream", Kelly smiles.

"Y'all weird as hell man", Mike says just giving the two of you a glance. Kelly lets out a laugh before nodding towards Armando's seat. "No.",you give a stern look.

"Yes!", kelly says seriously. "Fine. I'll do it before I leave later.", you give in, not wanting to discuss it any further.

- Later-

"I'm out, don't stay too long okay", Kelly says patting your shoulder before heading out, quickly shooting a glance over at Armando, signaling you to talk to him.

She heads out, the door closing, being a deafening reminder of how quiet it is since you and Armando are the only ones in the office. The dim lights giving an Erie feel. "Breathe Y/n. Now's the time to go talk to him", You think to yourself.

"Hey."you walk over to him. He looks up at you with a stare that says "what do you want". "Well I just thought that since it's just me and you tonight, we could at least conversate so it won't be absolutely boring", You sit on his desk.

"What do we have to talk about?", He says with that accent that just drives you crazy.

"Well I do technically have something to ask you", You say looking down at him. "There it is", he flashes a smile. "Stop", You roll your eyes.

"Mkay shoot.", He crosses his arms with a smirk.

"Please come with me tomorrow night. Kelly wants me to go out with her and Dorn. And I really don't wanna third wheel.", you plead.

“What’s in it for me?”, he looks up at you, placing the pen in between his plump lips. “What do you want?”,you ask, staring right down at his lips.

“What’re you offering?”, he asks, moving his rolling chair to where he’s sitting in between your legs,staring up at you with this smirk on his face like he just knows what he’s doing to you.

“I..I..uh”,your breath starts to hitch. “Use your words hermosa.”, he glances up at you through low eyes.

He has to know what he’s doing to you right? The only option is to match his energy, even though it’s all a front.

“Mister Aretas, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”,you snap out of whatever shy shit you just had going on.

“And if I was?”,He traces his finger up your exposed leg. Today was the perfect day to wear a pencil skirt.

The sound of the glass doors creaking open surprises you, causing you to move off the desk swiftly as possible.

“Sorry, I left my house keys��,Marcus walks in, not looking at the two of you.

“Hollup…it’s real dark in here. What yall in here-“,he looks between the two of you. “Nothing we were just talking”,you say quickly. Marcus looks over at Armando who has a condescending smirk upon his face. “Oh okay”,Marcus laughs. “It’s not like that Marcus”,You bury your head in your hands with a laugh.

“Look that ain’t nun of my business. Just make sure you use that latex. Cause you don’t wanna get that I’m late Text!”,he says before dapping Armando up. “What is HAPPENING”, you internally scream to yourself.

Marcus quickly makes his exit, leaving you and Armando to discuss what just happened. “That was embarrassing”,you groan. “It was hilarious”,he laughs. “No it wasn’t”, you lean against the door. “I’ll go with you. I’ve got something to handle before hand though,so I’ll meet you there”,he smiles over at you.

“Okay great. I’m gonna go home. Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow”,you nervously grab your things before heading out to your car.

[juanarc-thethird]

Since your doing the DP and Wolverine prompts does this mean that Nora’s used Jaunes dead body as a weapon or just his sword?

Deadpool used Logan's bones because they are metal, so in this case I chose a third option that I came up with. --------------

Nora arrives at a forest where a cross marks the site of a grave.

Nora: (Narrating) For a long time, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be back. VIZ Media bought RWBY, there was a whole boring rights issue, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. But then, it turned out that they wanted me! the one girl who shouldn’t even have her own show! That was all so stupid. Look, we know the title of this thing, so I know what you’re wondering. How are we going to do this without dishonoring Jaune's memory? And I’ll tell you how. We’re not.

Nora then starts digging

Nora: (Narrating) I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Jaune is not dead. Sure, it made for a perfect ending to a very sad story, but that’s not how his Aura boosting thing works. You think I want to be out here in beautiful downtown North of Vale, digging up the one and only Rusted Knight? No, thank you. But the fate of my entire world is at stake. He may not be living his best life, but he sure as hell ain’t dead.

Nora finally reaches the bottom and finds the coffin.

Nora: Bingo... Yahtzee...

She then begins to tear apart the coffin.

*Smack! Tap! Scratch! Bang!*

Nora: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

*Crack!*

She makes a hole in the coffin and then…

Nora: Damn it!

She didn't like what she found.

Nora: Son of a bitch! *Hits the cross* Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!

Moments later....

Nora leaning against a fallen tree

Nora: *Talking to his right while the camera is only focus on her* That was weird. I’m much calmer now. Look, I’m not a woman of science, but you seem incredibly passed away.

The camera zooms out to show a very dead and skeleton-like Jaune, but still wearing his armor.

Nora: But it’s good to see ya. I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Jaune. You and me, getting into a Ladypool and Rusted Knight. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun,... the chaos,... the residuals?

She then starts playing with Jaune's helmet.

Nora: (Mimicking Jaune's voice) That's right Nora. There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of RWBY cash.

Nora: Me too, Jaune. *Gets upset* No, no, no, no. Ugh, he had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! *Looks back at Jaune* I could really use your help right now.

Suddenly, a group of futuristic soldiers appear out of nowhere. Nora sees them and hides along with Jaune's corpse.

Nora: Wait! I’m warning you! I’m not alone!

Soldier: Nora Valkyrie! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority. Too many crimes with this, come out!

Nora: I hate this guys.

Soldier: Last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!

Nora: I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them. *Looks at you the reader* Did you know that Jaune's armor is made by a lot of pieces together? Here we go, maximum effort.

Nora jumps out of her hiding spot, and uses Jaune's corpse as cover. The soldiers are confused.

Bye Bye Bye by NSYNC It starts to play.

Nora: *Looks at Jaune* Okay, Jaune. I guess we’re getting that team up after all.

Nora grabs a piece of Jaune's armor and throws it at one of the soldiers, killing him instantly. The other companions of the deceased are stunned, but seconds later they run towards them as more soldiers appear.

Nora takes two pieces of armor from Jaune's shoulders and uses them to stab two of the soldiers. One in the back, and the other one she slashes and then stabs him in the head. Following with a kick that makes the piece come out the other side of the guy.

She then uses her leg armor and begins to swing around, hitting the soldiers in the face. She knocks one to the right, another to the ground, and one to the left. She then takes her phone and takes a photo of herself kissing one of the deceased on the helmet.

She then takes both of Jaune's arm armors, bones and all, and begins to slap each and every one of them like it's a game. With what remains of the armor already shattered, she kills the remaining ones. I use Jaune's fingers to stab one of them. Jaune's head to hit another one in the genitals. What's left of the legs to stab quite hard right into the chest of another soldier who was running.

Nora: What is this?

Nora notices a part of the armor that looks like a sword handle and pulls it out. And just at that moment a blue sword blade appears as if it were a lightsaber.

Nora: *GASP!!!!* IT'S THE SWORD OF DESTRUCTION!!!

Nora: I am soaking wet right now.

Nora: (Narrating) To be clear, I’m not proud of any of this. The wanton violence, the whiff of necrophilia, it isn’t who I am, it isn’t who I wanna be. Who I wanna be? Well, to help you understand that, I gotta take you back. My little joy ride I took through space and time, to the day that changed everything.

Nora: (Narrating) But that will be for another day, because the idiot who wrote all this is a little tired.

[astarionancuntnin]

Hello! No idea if you’re taking requests, or if they are only Astarion x f!reader, nor how dark you go.

But you think you can write a Gale x f!reader in the third person (Name is just Tav) and Gale is obsessed with having a baby that he and Tav do it every minute even when Tav is asleep?

I'll go as dark as you allow me to go bb (also thank you for your patience oh my god i swear im gonna get through all my requests eventually). fair warning that this is my first Gale fic and i haven't done his romance in game, with that being said-

Silent Night

pairing: gale x tav (fem, not decribed but its implied she looks younger than him by a few years)

rating: E

word count: 3.7k

cw: 18+. smut, mentions of pregnancy, obsessive anxious thoughts, porn with feelings, coercion, unprotected sex, drugging, somnophilia, non-con, breeding kink (and breeding), creampie, using cum as lube, cock soaking, gaslighting, this is a dark one y'all have been warned. full list on ao3.

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Ever since getting rid of the Absolute, Gale’s life had been exactly how he had pictured it, and that meant spending most of his days lavishing his wife, Tav. Not a day could go by where he and his beloved did not indulge each other. Not only did they spend every single night at it - it was every single moment they had together: out on a picnic date, while they were cooking, when they were snuggled up on the sofa reading - as if their primal urges could never be satisfied.

Especially Gale’s.

After getting married, he had made it his primary goal to make sure his wife was satisfied at all moments and Gods above did he deliver. Truth be told, his drive had only gone up since they discussed their future, and potentially having a family — a child! Gale could hardly believe it; it was one of his wildest dreams and it was now just within reach.

Growing up alone with his mother, he still struggled with the idea of being a father as he feared to not be up to everyone's expectations — moreso Tav’s — but he couldn’t deny how he hoped he could eventually get the chance to be the father he always dreamed of having. Give his mother grandchildren that she could visit, make their friends aunts and uncles, even new company for Tara; finally have a real family of his own.

They had been careful in the past, however. Tav would always drink a potion that acted as contraceptive before doing anything, and it had been Gale's greatest disappointment. Every time, he wished she'd forget or would dismiss it so he could finally have it his way with her.

Thankfully, Tav was interested in the idea, but he noticed her doubts everytime the topic was brought up.

After everything they had gone through and the uncertainty of their future because of it, she had asked for some time to think about it. Make sure they were appropriately settled in — had a house, a stable income, a place secure for a child to grow up — and yes, of course, that was reasonable, but Gale couldn’t keep his mind from picturing her, with her breasts full of milk and rubbing her belly, swollen with their child.

My, what a sight.

It was enough to get him in the mood to put a damned baby in her.

But, Gale was a patient man, he could wait. Surely, she would make up her mind and have a clearer idea soon enough. She wasn’t saying it just to waste her most fertile years away, only to watch the opportunity fly out the window, or waiting for the next best option in terms of partners. They were married, for Gods’ sake, they had vowed to stay together until death did them apart, and after what they had survived, they were assured to live until their old days; they would be together forever.

…Right?

She wouldn’t just leave him now of all time, now that they were safe and secure. She didn’t just stay out of convenience, surely not. She couldn’t have lost interest since their adventure ended and was just looking for a way out — buying her time until she could safely discard him as Mystra had done to him in the past.

Oh Gods… but what if she was?

It’s not like he was getting any younger. If anything, the stress of destroying the absolute had taken a toll on him that must’ve made him age twenty years in the few months alone it had taken them. It only struck him when he gazed upon his beloved, still the very depiction of youth, as opposed to him. She remained beautiful as time passed by and he loved to admire her, but it was a constant reminder that he wasn’t getting any younger, and the orb in his chest hadn’t helped in the matter either. Even if he figured out a way to live longer, a skill he could learn as a wizard, she wouldn't have the chance to be blessed by those same powers Gale had; he would outlive her and he would be left behind — alone.

Again.

She would have every reason to look for someone more younger, who could age with her, and less broken than he was, and the darkest parts of him couldn’t accept this reality — wouldn’t accept it.

It didn’t matter that they were married, or how many times she had reassured him, those same thoughts came back crawling like a pest.

So that night, before heading to bed, Gale prepared Tav's herbal tea as usual: with chamomile, citrus, and honey — just warm enough to be comforting — and a dose of a special potion he took care of obtaining at the market during his errands earlier, just to make sure she would sleep through the night undisturbed.

Such a good husband! The merchant had exclaimed after he had explained his wife was suffering from insomnia. Taking care of his wife and tending to her utmost care, so thoughtful!

Oh, if only they knew.

They explained in detail the exact effects of the potions, and he didn't need further convincing before dropping a pouch of coins on the table and taking off with the magic concoction.

Upon watching his wife drink the tea he had so kindly prepared, Gale could only see how right the merchant had been — Tav wasn't even halfway through her cup that her eyelids grew heavy, her head wouldn't sit straight, and her entire body screamed at her to go rest.

Gale, the caring and loving husband he is, took it upon himself to bring her to bed and lay her down comfortably, still in her night clothes, with her breathing already heavy with sleep. He pushed her hair aside, letting his knuckles brush against the supple skin of her cheek as he took in the sight of her.

His beautiful wife — almost bare as she wore a short, lilac silk nightgown, and a soft pair of lace underwear, one he would eventually remove tonight to finally take what was rightfully his.

It would be preferable if she were awake, of course, but with the way her own doubts had plagued her mind, Gale thought it fair to give her head a vacation. She could rest peacefully, and he could give her a gift she didn’t know she wanted; he would help her see reason this way and she would have no other choice but to accept it if it just happened to her.

It was for the best, for both of them — he had always been careful, always so damned careful, respecting her wishes; what about what he wanted? What about his needs?

To breed her in the dead of night, leave her with a sticky mess between her legs to wake up to, then offer her another round of morning sex to cover up the soreness he would've caused her the night prior so she could stay completely inconspicuous until her sickness shows up and her belly grows swollen with a new life and—

Oh, Gods above, no, what was he thinking?! He couldn’t do this to her — not like this; not when she was asleep, but… Hells, he couldn’t ignore the throbbing erection this vision had given him. The sheer fabric of his underwear rubbing against his cock made him groan; he wouldn't be able to let it go now… And she was right there, out cold, it’s not like she would mind it if he were to just use her a little, right?

He sighed. Fine, just a touch then, just enough to ease the ache.

He let his hand reach down and underneath his underwear, where his fingers wrapped around his length, hard and angry, and he let go of a heavy breath as he pumped himself just once. Once too many, as it only made him more desperate for what could be around his cock instead of his hand.

Just a few strokes, just enough to satisfy my needs so I can go to sleep.

His grip was strong, but he pumped himself slowly as he eyed Tav's sleeping form. His thumb moved to the head of his cock, where he found a bead of pre-come already dripping, calling out for its home that rested between his wife’s legs. He rubbed it against his tip and slid it over his shaft to lubricate himself — hoping to find some relief with his own arousal — but only found himself wishing it were from his beloved, laying right there in front of him.

Gods dammit… Fine — just a touch, then… just a little… touch…

While one hand kept stroking true, his other one found comfort in the softness of her warm breasts. Small compared to what they could be if she were carrying their child, gorged in milk, but nothing short of delicious, as he remembered their taste in his mouth, his tongue circling around her plump nipple…

Oh, the taste of her–

As she moved in her sleep, he let go, afraid that he had woken her up, only for her to have simply slightly moved her legs apart, naturally lifting her nightgown up above her thighs and allowing Gale a clear view over her beautifully wrapped entrance — all of this without him needing to even lift a finger.

He chuckled nervously, thinking only for a moment she might have been awakened by his lewd touches. Still, she remained unconscious, and he remained painfully aroused by the sight of her barely covered cunt, with her legs wide open. She was right there, ready for the picking, just for him.

Hells, why was he second guessing himself, he had already spiked her tea, it's not like she would know either way; in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

Okay, okay, just a finger, just to pick up her moist and apply it over myself. That's all I need. Nothing more.

He pulled her legs together, just to slide her underwear off, only to be hit with the scent of her arousal completely coating the silk he had pulled away from her entrance.

By the Gods, my love. You're positively soaked. What have you been dreaming of, I wonder?

He brought her underwear to his nose, breathing in her aroma, and a shiver ran down his spine as he let his thoughts wander once again to his original plan. As he looked back to her, legs spread open and slit glistening wet, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind anymore; by the time he would be done with her, her womb would finally be claimed by his potent seed, and she would bear his child whether she wanted to or not.

Hells, forget the finger, I must taste you.

Letting go of his night robe and sliding down his underwear completely, he crawled over the bed and between her legs, settling comfortably with his face right besides the warmth at the apex of her thighs. He wrapped one arm around her soft thigh, while the other hand slid up to her wet slit, squeezing her puffy lips to push her juices out and admiring it drip over their bedsheets.

“Heavens above, my love,” he whispered against her cunt, his low, raspy voice carrying the lust he was done denying himself. “You look simply delicious.”

Bringing his face closer, he pulled his tongue out and pressed it flat against her entrance, swiping up along her slick ever so slowly to collect her essence. A shudder ran down his spine at her taste as he swallowed down her juices.

He murmured, against her core, “Not even the Gods could rival your taste, my heart.”

Using his thumb and finger just below her clit, he spread open her lips to expose her fully to him; pussy wet and enlarged by her arousal, almost as if she knew he was there, as if she subconsciously liked it.

Wanted it.

He breathed heavily over her slit, his mind hazy with lust as he finally dipped his tongue deeper into her folds, working his skilled tongue in and out of her. He took his time to collect her arousal in his mouth and tasted everything she had to offer him; he wanted to please her more than anything else, even as she slept through it all. His tongue circled around her clit and his mouth latched onto it to suckle, until he felt her reaching her first orgasm as she whined faintly in her sleep and her legs twitched — but she remained unconscious through it all, allowing Gale to eat and drink his fill of her.

Pulling back with his chin coated in her essence, he licked his lips with a smile. If this continued to go just as well, he would need to go back to the seller to thank them again.

Satisfied with her taste, and with his cock practically begging for her as he had smeared the bedsheets with his precome, he sat up on his knees and lifted her legs to bring them up and around his waist, then pressed his length over her cunt with a breathy sigh.

“There, there,” he purred as he rubbed his cock along her flushed and wet lips. “That’s a good girl, lying still for her husband. I just need a bit of you, love; you can rest. Just be good for me.”

If there was any doubt of her arousal, now it couldn't be ignored. Despite Gale’s assault of his mouth on her and the certitude he had drank every drop of her come as she climaxed in her sleep, a faint line of her juices dripped down from her entrance as he coated himself with her wet and stained the bed just below them.

I'll just slide the tip of my cock against her entrance, just enough to feel her— Gods, I need to feel her warmth.

No bed sheets or underwear in the way between her and him anymore, which made it all the more simple for him to align her waist with his and push her legs apart as he leaned against her with his arms on each side of her head. His length easily found its way around her warm lips, as he slid between them.

So very soaked for me, fuck— so wet and warm. Just stay like that love, your husband just needs you a little more.

Carefully moving his hips back, he pushed his tips against her entrance, and it didn’t take him long to come to a dreadful realization.

I can't wait any longer — I need this, please forgive me, Gods, I need this.

Slowly, he pushed himself all the way inside of her, and a broken gasp escaped his throat as he hit the end of her channel, filling her completely with his cock. Despite having completely sunk inside of her depths, it still wasn’t enough. He would only be satisfied when she would be filled to the brim with his seed, burst after burst of his cock spilling inside of her until she was leaking with his cum.

He picked up a rhythm — slow and careful at first — but it quickly fastened as he lost himself in the feeling of her tight walls around him, squeezing him even as she was sleeping.

“You little vixen–” he whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke to her as if she were conscious. “Ahhh… Just take it, take it for me. That's right, just like that… Oh, you little tease— you've wanted me to do this, haven't you? Have your husband come and fuck a baby into you as you slept? Are you truly this depraved, love? Are you this much of a whore for your lover?”

As she turned her head around and her arms moved up to touch his chest, Gale thought of the worst right away and slowed down his thrusts once more, but never stopped completely; he couldn’t find the strength within himself to stop now that he had gone this far.

He brought a hand up to softly cup her face and stroke her cheek, “Shhh, please don't make me do this, please, my love.” He whispered, pleading. “Don't fight it, just let it happen, you were doing so well.”

She whimpered, either from a nightmare or the potion wearing off, and brought her floppy arms up to weakly push against Gale's chest. Asleep or not, he couldn't allow her to try and stop him, not now. He picked her wrists and pinned her to their bed as he picked his rhythm back up, pounding into her.

“None of this now, dearest,” he growled. “Your husband is fulfilling his rightful duties to you, and I know you want this, your cunt has been begging me to put a baby inside of you for weeks now. This is for your own good; our own good— fuck—”

When her eyes began to flutter open and she mumbled his name half-asleep, he didn’t need to think twice before casting a sleep spell on her to make sure she would remain calm and docile. He wouldn’t back down now, the best he could do was minimize the damage on her.

His head fell forward, with strands of his hair falling from his messy bun to cover his face and tickle hers.

“I'm sorry my heart,” he pleaded as she slept through his assault, and he wasn't sure anymore if he tried to convince her or himself the most. “You gave me no other choice, I need to take you tonight. I need to make you mine and mine alone. It's for your own good, I promise.”

As if his words had slipped past the veil of her consciousness the moment those words left his lips, he felt her cunt clench around him.

“Oh Gods, even asleep your cunt wraps so tightly around my cock.” He moaned, biting his lips to muffle the desperate sounds fighting to leave his lips. “It's okay, you don't need to use that little head of yours, your body speaks for itself with how it's milking me.”

He wrapped her legs back around his waist and cast mage hands to keep them locked in his back. There was only one way tonight was ending, and he wasn't going to back away until his job here was done.

Despite the sleeping spell and the potion, Tav whimpered as Gale fucked into her recklessly, with a rhythm nearly desperate.

“Fuck, you moan so prettily when you take my cock, I might just burst yet—”

His thrusts started to become sloppy, losing his clean rhythm to replace it by one borderline animalistic as he pressed himself wholly against her body, her breast crushed against his chest with each push of his hips. In the dead of this warm, silent night, the only sounds keeping them company were the sloppy splashes of his hips against hers, his balls slapping against her tight little asshole, and his breathy moans that grew only louder and out of control, barely noticing just how loud he was getting.

“Please let me give you the life we deserve,” he begged, not caring for the sound of his voice anymore. “Let me breed you, bear my children, make me a father– fuck!”

His body pinned Tav down, his cock completely buried into her as he spilled himself in the depths of her womb. With his concentration faltering, she started whining through her sleep spell as if she had fought through it to wake up. With his cock still pulsing his white, hot come inside of her, he brought his lips over hers to muffle her sounds with a one sided kiss.

“Shhh, it’s okay my love, it’s over. You’re okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you. Shhhh…” Gale ushered in her ear as he kept his body pressed against hers, his breath hot against her skin, and brushed away the hair from her face. “Let’s just stay like this for a moment. I need… I need this.”

He stayed inside of her for a few long minutes, until his breath came back to him and his cock went soft inside of her, only then allowing himself to pull out and lay back next to her; it was all too soon when he lost the warmth of her walls around him, and even soft, he knew his cock was missing it's home as it rested sadly over his belly in a puddle of his cum and her essence.

Making sure to avoid any doubt from her, he got up to slip his briefs and her panties back on before sliding back into bed and pulling the covers over both of them, then turned away to pretend to be sleeping. As he finally broke the concentration on his spell, Tav slowly woke up to a sweaty, but very much seemingly asleep Gale.

She shook his arm to take him out of his daze, “Gale? Gale… wake up!”

He turned around as if just woken up, “Gods, Tav,” he mumbled, feigning his fatigue. “What time is it?”

“Did you…” Her voice is sleepy and confused. “Did you fuck me while I was asleep?”

“What?” He exclaimed, raising himself up on his elbows and rubbing his eyes. “Gods, love, who do you take me for? I would never impose myself onto you like that, you must've had a nightmare. Are you quite alright? Come here–”

He brought the back of his hand to rest over her forehead, as if to check her temperature, and pulled back with a worried look.

“Poor thing — you're burning.” He brought her head to rest over his chest as he pet her head, trying to soothe her back to sleep. “Hush now, you're safe, I've got you. Shhh… You’re okay…”

Within minutes, if not seconds later, she slipped back into a restful sleep, with her head moving to the beat of his chest rising, and Gale couldn't help but admire her, chasing away the guilt of his actions as he realized the necessity of it.

The faint light of the rising sun exposed the glistening laying between her legs and pooling over the bedsheets past her panties, and he instinctively licked his lips at the mere thought of it.

Now, there would be no doubt in their future, only a certitude swirling around in his mind.

In time, she will be the most amazing and caring mother.

He just knows it.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera @annnagennnie @angeldarkness95 @marlowethebard @hellethil @frankie-mercury @ariajc79 @ladycroft5245 @lets-just-daydream @pursuitseternal @longjohnsilverfish @asterordinary @charmandabear @moochiepoo

[bountycancelled]

LOST CAUSE

bada x reader (part 1)

MASTERLIST | NEXT

warnings: none really, it's just kinda sad

content: petnames (only one is used in reference to reader, but a few are mentioned) alcohol mentions (reader drinks away her feels) sad gays and bad gays, unedited becusse I'm lazy, a whole lotta projecting myself onto reader

being bada's best friend would be the death of you, you were calling it right now.

she wasn't a bad friend by any means, quite the opposite actually. from the late night talks that would last until the early mornings before you both passed out, the tiny, sentimental gifts she would randomly get for you without expecting anything in return, to the way she would hold you, god, she was perfect. you loved everything about her.

but, that was the problem, wasn't it? you loved her. and a part of you wants to blame her for making it so easy, falling for her, but you know that would be unfair. not only because she wasn't leading you on or anything, but also because she couldn't do any wrong in your eyes.

everytime your heart fluttered at one of her actions, it would sink just as quickly. she's doing this as a friend, you would always remind yourself. but your not so friendly reminders didn't stop you from hoping. for something more, that one day, miracously, bada would realise that she was in lo–

"what's got you so worried?" you were pulled out of your daily dose of dramatic reality checking by none other than bada. her head was in your lap, she stared up at you with a look that you could only describe as... content. comfortable. and so, so beautiful.

"huh?" you answered, having not heard her clearly, too busy being in your head instead of in the real world, where unfortunately, you belonged.

she raised her arm and pressed on the space between your eyebrows, a small pout on her face. "you're frowning. what's wrong, pretty?"

the nicknames. the fucking. nicknames.

pretty, gorgeous, baby, love, honey. it was things like that made you believe, even if just for a moment, that she knew that you liked her, loved her, and was just toying with you for enjoyment.

you'd feel guilty everytime you had that thought. she wouldn't. not to you, not to anyone, not ever.

"it's nothing, really. I'm just in a mood today." you shrugged, hoping that she would, for your sake, take your half-hearted explanation and leave it there.

she nodded, clearly unconvinced, but moved one nonetheless. "do you still wanna go to the club tonight? we can cancel and spend the night together instead." she offered, lifting her head off of your lap in favour of placing it on your shoulder, waiting for your answer.

"no, we can still go, we'll just come back here together. we've blown off our friends enough times, I'm starting to feel bad." you joked, and once again, the atmosphere was light and airy. with that settled, you both stood up, trying to find something to wear for the nights activities.

you walked into her closet, sprinkled with tops and skirts from your own, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. for someone who claimed that being around bada was painful, your personal stamp on her home sure made it hard to believe.

"how's this?" you said for what felt like the 29th time to bada (it was only the third) as you spun around for her, showing off one of your options for the night.

she sat at the edge of the bed, ready to go about 20 minutes before you, as she usually was. her head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as she waited patiently for you to finally choose something to wear.

you tried not to stare at her neck, which she made easier for you by finally looking at you, tilting her head to the side as she inspected your outfit.

"I was gonna say its looks as good as the other two because you look amazing in anything and everything, but... I like this one. a lot."

the way she looked at you when she said that, with her bottom lip between her teeth, stayed with you as you walked to the club together, hand in hand. did she really have no idea how much she affected you? you weren't sure if you hoped that she didn't, or did.

but you weren't going to think of that tonight. you were going to drink, and dance, and hang out with your friends, and not let bada affect you. if only for just one night.

okay, maybe you had had one too many drinks by now, but you weren't drunk just yet. it was still the normal you, just with a few tweaks. a little less shame here, a little more confidence here, nothing too major.

you were half in minah's lap and half in tatters, singing obnoxiously, almost as loud as the song blasting from the speakers. you weren't even thinking of bada... wait, where the hell was bada?

you squinted your eyes as they darted across the dance floor, hopelessly trying to locate her in the dim lighting of the club. but you didn't have to look for long, because she was headed back to your table, a smile painted on her face.

you stood up, suprisingly not stumbling as you walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "where were you?" you shouted over the music, wearing a curious expression.

she bit her lip excitedly before speaking into your ear, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. damn you and your natural charm, bada.

"I met a girl." you didn't mean for your face to drop in the way that it did, but from the looks of it, bada didn't even notice. if she did, then she didn't mention it.

"she actually wants to come over to my place..." bada trailed off, sending you a pleading look, a certain lust-driven glee shining in her eyes.

"oh." you said flatly before you could stop yourself, moving your arms away from her and crossing them over your chest.

she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle, squeezing while pleading her case in an effort to soften the blow. it doesn't help, not one bit.

"I know we were supposed to have a binging marathon, but please baby? just this once? I'll make it up to you real good, you know I always do." 'because I always let you.' you wanted to add, but you bit your tongue, you weren't feining for a fight with bada right about now.

you sigh, your arms hanging limply by your sides. "okay. I'll just crash at lushers'." you fight the urge to gag as she squeals in excitement, at the prospect of spending the night with someone who isn't you.

she gave you a curious look, most likely sensing your jealousy apprehension, her arms still around you, feeling more suffocating than comforting at that moment.

"...are you sure?" no. I'm not, don't go with her.

you nodded furiously, removing her arms from your frame, and turning her around, pushing her toward the dance floor where she had left her pursuit for the night. "go, she'll think you're blowing her off if you keep talking to me."

"are you actually, super, one hundred percent certain that I can go with her?" she pushed you further, and you knew that she knew that you weren't really all that okay with it.

but what was the point? you could easily sway her into sticking to the original plan, but she would've spent the whole night daydreaming about what could've been with the mysterious girl at the club. you didn't want to deal with that. you were tired of feeling like a second choice.

you wanted her to choose you, because she wanted to choose you. not because you asked her to.

'no, I'm not sure. I don't want you to go with her. I want you to choose me for once. choose me.' you screamed in your own mind, but all that could be seen on the outside was you smiling the best you could at bada, nodding once more before walking back to where the rest of your group sat, downing the drink in front of you.

you didn't know if it was even yours, but it didn't matter to you right now.

minah noticed your sudden change in mood, holding your hand in hers in a silent attempt to comfort you. you squeezed it as means of expressing gratitude, you didn't wanna talk about it.

but, you didn't need to. she knew, and if the downright pitiful looks the rest of the group were throwing your way were anything to go by, it seemed that everyone else knew too.

you wanted to leave, so you left. lusher had no problem going home early with you, she could tell that you weren't in a good headspace. you left with lushers arms around you, half to make sure that you didn't stumble, and half to try to make you feel a little better.

you left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and not from the shitty drinks you were downing.

you left without saying goodbye to bada, which you never did. she waved when she saw you by the door, that big smile still evident even in the dark lighting.

you didn't wave back.

a/n: this wasn't planned, and I wrote it in a day, but I hope you guys like it. also, doing a bada series and and a bada smau at the same time isn't my brightest idea, but fuck it, we ball.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 1

What's this? Two posts for WIP Wednesday??? I said I was gonna spoil you guys. Now, I originally planned to do Carry Your Heart. Figured the top and bottom choices from the WIP Wednesday poll would be fun. But both stories are at a point where Danny is taking Jason to Frostbite and I just didn't feel like writing the same scenario twice, even if the details and POV are totally different.

So I went to the third place option.

If you want a say in what I work on this week, check out the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Word Count: 1.5k

-----

Jazz tapped her finger on her phone as she waited for the Dunkin employee to call out her order. Red Hood was supposed to arrive any minute. She’d left her dorm a full two hours ago and led Agents K and O on a merry chase through Boston before finally losing them at Quincy Market. Then she’d doubled back and was now near Northeastern. She had no reason to be here, so hopefully it’d take a little longer to track her down.

And that’s when she felt it—a ghost or liminal was nearby.

Pushing his way in the building was a tall man with a red beanie covering dark hair. He had on an unbuttoned flannel jacket over a Dumpty Humpty T-shirt and jeans with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He glanced around before his eyes settled on her and he grinned.

“Hey, Jazz, right?” He held out his hand. “I’m Todd.”

Jazz couldn’t say anything and just stared in horror. Red Hood couldn’t be liminal. Had she just led another liminal to the guys in white? Did he even realize he was considered an ecto-entity under the anti-ecto acts she’d introduced him and Red Robin to?

“Jazz? Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“Order for Jazz!” called out the barista.

Jazz shook herself and grabbed her drink with a smile for the employee. Then she grabbed Todd’s elbow and dragged him over to the tables.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting—” she cut herself off. She had no idea what he knew and what he didn’t. And the agents could come get them at any moment. Instead she pulled out her phone started turning off every security setting. “Never mind. Do you want anything?” she asked with a gesture at her own drink.

“I’m all right. But, are you? What happened?”

Jazz let out a laugh; if the way Todd’s eyes widened was any indication, it was a tad more hysterical that she would’ve liked. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened.” She looked down at his shirt. “My brother loves Dumpty Humpty, you a music fan?”

He seemed nonplussed at the topic change but shrugged. “Sure. Music is good, but I stole this shirt from one of my brothers. I don’t know if I could name a single song by them. How about you?”

Jazz grinned and forced herself to relax as she logged out of her school email on her phone. “I’m a huge fan of any sort of self-expression, including music. Actually, my plans for tonight involve music, so I hope you like the indie scene. Might be a bit intense for a first date, but I’ve always figured, why not jump right in? Show ‘em the crazy from the start and see if they can keep up.” She leaned forward over the table and winked at him. “Think you’ll be able to keep up?”

Todd played the game perfectly and looked her up and down like they really were about to start a first date. “With you, sweetheart, I’ll follow anywhere you lead.”

Jazz laughed and stood. “Come on, then. We’re going on an adventure.”

Todd grinned and joined her. “Lead the way.”

Once out of the building, Jazz led them away from the university. This being Boston, it wasn’t long before they came across a homeless man begging on the side of the street.

Wincing internally, she gripped Todd’s arm and said loudly, “Honestly, I don’t know why the cops don’t do a better job of keeping away the beggars.”

Todd looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about? They have a right to exist and we should help them.”

“They’re probably fine. Everyone knows they only use the money they’re given on drugs and alcohol.” She pretended to glance at her phone before reaching back to shove it in her back pocket. Only to miss so it fell to the ground. “Ew, he’s looking at us. Come on, let’s cross the street.”

She could feel the way Todd tensed at her words, but he let himself be led across the street.

As soon as they were out of hearing shot, he turned to her and hissed, “What the hell was that?”

Jazz glanced back and saw the man picking up her phone. She looked away before he could catch her looking. “Come on, I’ll explain.” She grabbed Todd’s hand and led him down an alley to a much busier street. “I had to ditch my phone. I logged out of everything and left it unlocked so he can use it or resell it. I needed to make sure he wouldn’t try to return it to me and, well, what better way than being the worst person you can imagine?”

And now he was staring, open mouthed.

“They’ve had remote access to my phone for months and I couldn’t let them track us!” she insisted. Habit had her looking around for any sign of a white suit.

“Who can’t find us?”

Jazz shook her head. “The guys in white. Look, this is too public. I can’t say much else here. But meeting you, everything had to change. You’re in danger just by being near me and I refuse to be the reason you get hurt.”

“Why am I in danger?”

“Later!” Jazz hissed before wincing and looking around. She forced a smile back on her face and asked, in as normal a tone as she could manage, “What time is it? Do you know?”

He looked down at his phone. “Uh, looks like it’s almost five.”

“Oh great! Plenty of time for us to get something to eat before I bring you to our surprise destination.”

And from there, Jazz led Todd on a convoluted tour of Boston. They grabbed food at the Pru, then she took him to the green line. Where they traveled four stops before she jumped up in feigned surprise that they were on the wrong branch. So then they got off and hopped on the train going in the opposite direction.

Which was where she wanted to be going all along.

For once, she was happy the orange line was still under construction, because the shuffle of passengers from trains to buses and back just made their journey that much more complicated and harder to follow.

By the time they finally got to their stop, the sun had mostly set. The station was mostly empty and Jazz looked around for any sign of white suits or vans, but even when she didn't see any, she couldn't relax.

“Where are we going?” Todd asked for probably the dozenth time.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “We’ll be there in five minutes and then you’ll find out.”

She led him to the street, the crosswalk had lights over it, but the rest of the road was shrouded in darkness. They ran across without waiting for the walk symbol.

Once they crossed what was basically a divided highway, Jazz led them along the poorly lit and cracked sidewalk. Ahead of them they were approaching a river.

“It’s before the river,” muttered Jazz to herself. “Is this it?” She hesitated at the top of a sloping, unpaved drive that led to an industrial building that sat on the waterfront. “I think so. Apparently this building used to be a coffin factory. Cool, huh?”

“I don’t care for coffins,” was Todd’s terse reply.

Jazz flinched slightly. She knew he was death-adjacent. Should’ve known better than to mention coffins. “Right, sorry. Well, they aren’t made here anymore.” She made her way down the steep drive, Todd a step behind her.

“What is it now?”

“Apartments, I believe.”

Once at the bottom, she looked around and saw the old loading dock. Entering, she looked for the door on the left.

Only to hesitate once more. Two doors were on the left. She hadn’t heard anything about there being two doors. Taking a chance, she opened the first one.

Inside was a table where two women sat in front of a metal box. On the wall were a set of pegs already mostly filled with coats. And inside milled probably thirty or forty people.

The women smiled at Jazz. “Hi, have you two been here before?”

Jazz shook her head and pulled two twenties out of her wallet. “No. But I had a classmate come here and tell me about it. When I realized you had something going on tonight when I had a date? Figured it was a great place to come with my partner!”

She laughed. “We’re definitely unique here at the Night Cap.” She stamped their hands. “Show starts in half an hour, but feel free to mingle until then. Bathroom’s through the kitchen.”

“Thanks! We’re looking forward to tonight.”

Todd nodded his own thanks and followed Jazz into the room.

“What are we doing here?” he whispered in her ear.

“Hiding,” she whispered back. “I’ve never been here before. Never even taken this stop on the T before. When we leave here, we’ll get a motel room or something and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Is this necessary?”

“Without a doubt.”

Jazz could tell Todd didn’t fully believe her, but he dropped it. Jazz found a few people who were discussing that evening’s performers and the two of them joined the conversation.

-----

Part 2

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

So, I had a lot of fun with this section. The place Jazz takes Jason to? Real place. Though Night Cap isn't what the residents call it. Honestly, the real name is also impossible to google. If you don't know it exists, you would never find it (why Jazz runs from the GIW there). Out of respect for the residents of the apartment, though, I changed the name. I went to a show there and it was super weird trying to find it. Like, the directions in my email seriously said "enter the loading dock of the former coffin factory, find the door on the left, and slip the person standing there $10-20 cash. Don't touch anyone's personal belongings, please."

As we waited for the bathroom during set break, two of the residents were cooking dinner at the stove and we were chatting about how Regan was the worst.

10/10 would go again.

Anyone who has spent any time in Boston knows what I mean about the T being under construction. Annoying as hell, but it worked out for Jazz this time.

(The T is the name of the Boston train/subway system.)

The Pru refers to the Prudential building. The bottom level(s) are full of restaurants and shops (basically a high end shopping mall) and upper levels are offices. The top level is an observation deck that's open to the public, though I've never been.

[yakumtsaki]

Dear readers, we've been through so much together and you know at this point it takes a lot for me to describe a situation as 'out of control'.. yet here we are. So Kea moves in and the following happens in the span of like 2 hours:

Barth beats up Felina.

Kea beats up Spice.

Barth beats up Cyan.

Felina beats up Barth. Like seriously, ENOUGH. I've decided that next generation when we're at the third cousin tier relation I'm just gonna let whoever wants to date a cousin do it because holy hell, breaking them up has been a disaster. Everyone is near aspiration failure, everyone has shit grades, we're BROKE, and to top it all off..

-HELLO AGAIN

Why. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING WE DON'T OWE ANY BILLS LIKE THIS IS LITERAL THEFT. I also love how everyone is already so miserable so the repoman just comes and takes all the fun objects we can't afford to replace, FML

Barth's aspiration meter is absolutely pathetic as a result of everyone viciously assaulting him and desperate times call for desperate measures..

-Well well.. If it isn't Glitched Butler #9.. How's it hanging? ;)

-Same as always, I'm here to not cook and to open the doors we no longer have thanks to Baby.

-You know what, I'm too depressed to seduce you so will you just sleep with me?

-As you well know my butler programming prohibits me from doing anything helpful!

FFS. It's ok Barth, I will fulfill your throw a party want, I don't see how anything could go wrong with the situation in this house being what it is!

-Hey there! Join our party! Sleep with me! I COMMAND YOU

Barth please get it together.

-I CAN'T FUNCTION ROMANTICALLY BECAUSE I'M SO SAD BUT I REFUSE TO THROW ANY WANTS THAT DON'T INVOLVE ME SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE

OK DO YOU MAYBE SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THAT APPROACH

-NO

-Ugh, Spice is so hot when he's crying after I beat him up.

Ok Kea, I'm only gonna ask this once: are you fucking kidding me????

-What? It's only natural to be attracted to your girlfriend's ex who is her cousin and your enemy.

I'm just gonna pretend I didn't see this shit and move on.

So I have invited several of Barth's existing and potential lovers to this party and my goal is to figure out who, if anyone, I'm gonna marry him to. Now please enjoy this sequence of events:

a) Barth is flirting with my current top spouse pick, Stella Terrano, and it's going great!

b) Barth leaves Stella Terrano to go sleep with GODDAMN GUNNAR. Since I can't seem to shake this fucker off, the only option remaining is to give him a ridiculous fake accent to make him bearable.

-Oi luvs you, Barth!

-Why are you talking like a servant from Downton Abbey? Also who the hell caught me cheating now?

Who knows or cares? Let's continue:

c) Barth goes downstairs to beat up Cyan.

d) Klara aka my former top spouse pick attempts to leap into Barth's arms and HE LETS HER DROP

-Äääääh mein arsch!

-Sorry Klara but I refuse to get caught cheating by Gunnar..

-..unless it's with Stella Terrano!

LOL OMG, I really thought I'd have to marry him to fucking Gunnar due to THIS SHIT:

But God's mercy finally shines upon me!!!

Oh man I'm so upset by this >:)

-Ha culd youse do 'is, ya broke ma 'eart!!!

-What?

-Oh my, turtles are considered the sexiest animal in my planet👽

Stella ffs. Oh well, so sad, goodbye Gunnar, I was really hoping to add your freakish lack of chin into our gene pool but looks like I won't have the chance huhu!

e) Barth flirts with Stella again and is caught cheating AGAIN..

f) ..by Sarah Love who I keep forgetting exists but man that's a HARDCORE slap, she legit got her fingers in his eyeball(s)

-SORRY WHATSYOURNAME BUT I THINK BLINDING ME IS A BIT OF AN OVERREACTION

Yay! See Barth, our amazing party did the trick and now everything is gonna be ok!

-IM BLIND IM BLINDDDD I CAN'T SEE

Excuse me?! You know what Barth I'm done helping you, nothing is ever good enough for you!

[valjeancrazylover2]

Javert's Inspirations

So, neither option won that poll, so I'm making this post first. This is probably going to be me ranting more about Javerts I like than actually talking about my own Javert.

The characterisations of other characters have been taken from either one primary source, musical actor, or my own personal take. For example, Cosette is mainly inspired by the 1982 film, but has some influence from musical actresses such as Beatrice Penny-Touré.

Exeptions to this is the versions of the characters post-barricade, as from there is where my story mainly diverges, as most Javert & Valjean Live AUs do. Most of that is my own interpretation, since they are no longer in "normal" circumstances.

As such, Javert has been very fun to work on, because there have been many different characterisations that I find VERY entertaining. They all seem to lean into one aspect of his character more than the others, which makes him... strangely versatile, for such a rigid character?

So... what does this mean for my favourite baldie?

-

Let's start with the guy who started it all, and my blog icon: Todd Alan Johnson. There will be several musical Javerts listed here, but nobody was doing it like TAJavert. I blame him in part for getting me into Les Mis, as I had been a fan of TAJ for a while, when I stumbled across him in 2021 in Little Shop of Horrors as Orin Scrivello (my favourite character - can you tell I like villains). After being introduced to Les Mis through the work experience I was doing in Feb 2024, i revisited TAJ, finding out he had in fact played Javert - first in the third national US tour, and a few other times in smaller productions.

Thats when I found the pictures from Surflight's 2013 production.

And thus Chauvert was cemented in the brain. simply couldnt have it any other way. he just HAD to be bald. Because of this, and at the time I began designing him I didn't know anybody else who played Javert (this would later be changed when I saw stewart clarke live, but nothing really changed after that except for the javert bug eye truth to be solidified)

I really wish there was more footage of this production past these photos, because I NEED more of his bald head as Javert. And look at those sideburns! They're all-natural! Plus, i thought his face was a good fit in general for Javert. It's less obvious with his sideburns, but he's got that big jaw, talks with his bottom teeth showing, intense eyebrows, big buggy eyes when he wants them to be.

Pic from him as Sweeney Todd. My Javert's face is just a heavily cariacaturised version of his.

Additionally, I'm sure you're all familiar with jadenvargen/melancholyarchivist's art. I was a fan before, so finding out there was les mis art too was huge. My Javert was always a bit on the larger side, but that one drawing with Javert and Valjean labelled something like "tremendously large man" and "bigger even huger man" or whatever, cant find the piece right now. anyway that definitely confirmed for me that they were BOTH gonna be built and fat, rather than the lanky javert that I see most people draw.

So, that was the foundation.

From here I'm not really sure in what order inspirations came, but next was probably Anthony Perkins in LM1978, because you just dont get more diva that that. We all know how much of a drama queen Javert is, and in fact Perkins was so good at this that the first thing I did after watching this film was go downstairs and ask my mother if Perkins was gay (to which she replied "Oh, absolutely flaming")

My inspiration for Javert usually comes from small, inconsequential little actions or demeanour that catch my eye... Perkins had plenty, as well as a ring on his finger, which I always forget to draw, but my Javert is supposed to have.

Here's a select few bits I like of his, that have directly influenced my Javert. There's probably more, but I can't remember off the top of my head.

1) the walk. 2) the way he hold's the cane??

3) this whole scene, but specifically the there is no monsieur in this room! there is only a scoundrel! line. 4) the way he reacts to finding out valjean is still alive. VERY similar to how it goes down in my canon, just in a different setting/scenario.

outside of 1978, there havent really been any non-musical adaptation Javerts that have particularly stood out to me. I havent watched 1998 but he doesnt look like he'd be like my Javert, and 1982 despite being my favourite adaptation ... did not have the most memorable Javert.

Even in the radio dramas, which i love to death, don't really have much influence over my Javert, since I already have a very clear idea in my head of his speech, and most inspiration comes from visuals. the CBS radio drama probably comes the closest to the way he speaks, though. (his voiceclaims are either roger allam, todd alan johnson, or some random french guy with a really deep voice who came up on my instagram feed once. yes, I'm serious, my javert sounds like that.)

My javert is not exactly expressive, or outwardly "sassy", per se? I think he's more subtly camp, perhaps with the way he stands sometimes. Don't worry, he's still the absolute drama queen he is in the brick, with "would you like my hat?" and all, but he delivers it in a much more flat way. that's why I don't exactly look at the way perkins delivers "monsieur, monsieur le inspector now!" for my javert. yes, he'd say that, but with a little less visible sass, if that makes sense.

Pre-seine, he's expressive in his own way. whenever he loses control a little he's prone to getting visibly angry; distressed (see: losing valjean when chasing him through paris); when you can see him setting his jaw with a visible vein in his head, short-tempered and curt; or that sort of sinister glee with his "bark" of a laugh or patronising sneer. But other than that... you've gotta hear it in his voice. Sorry to all the cuntvert fans out there, my Javert tries to keep it professional when he can, but he's still trying to out-diva everyone at any given opportunity!

So we return to musical Javerts, then.

I've seen a few, so it's hard to gauge who's had an actual effect and who hasn't. There are a few I do know for a fact I have taken little bits from:

Terrence Mann is familiar to everyone I'm sure. sass-central, which contradicts the above paragraph, but he does it in a wonderfully weird and kind of menacing way which i LOVE. My javert leans more into that menacing side of things. He's always JUST in the shadows, just so that you might not notice him, but if you were wary of authority, you'd see him lurking. his stature, you might think would make him a bit lumbering, but he's shockingly agile and snakelike. Think of a tiger. (oh yeah, shere khan from the jungle book is another inspiration i guess, but I won't include him here - we know.) Terrence Mann is delightfully snide and insane and I love it.

Gifs of small bits of his performance I like.

And his soliloquy? oof.. believably absolutely losing his mind.

The Javert who has probably influenced mine the most is Hartwig Rudolz, from the german Duisburg production in the 90s. He's commanding, he's dignified and haughty, he's even got the sinister chipperness about him from time to time (he's chummy with Madeleine in the cart scene, even laughing and smiling with him. While not really my Javert, it's worth a mention. Also does a condescending chuckle when Thenardier asks to be let go before Stars.)

More gifs of bits I like!

Bonus gif, cus that wig is loooong!

Three more would be Nic Greenshields, Jordan Simon Pollard and Michael Ball. They are all great Javerts (which might be a hot take, I'm not sure if ballvert is popular but I've been a fan of his for 5 years so maybe i'm biased.) I can't say TOO much on Nic and Michael acting-wise, because Michael Ball has only been in the arena tours, and the footage ive seen of Nic Greenshields is not the GREATEST quality - but they all have an air of haughty dignity about them, which obviously i try to give my Javert.

Jordan I've had the pleasure of seeing in person, twice, as well as meeting the guy. He's been the understudy for a while. He takes quite an expressive approach to Javert, using mainly his eyebrows, which i definitely think makes up most of my Javert's expressiveness. He really knows how to use his face to act - seriously, I can barely believe it's the same guy ! He usually has quite a furrowed brow, with his chin jutting out a little, standing with his chest puffed out. He's 6'3, and quite broad-chested (seeing as he works out) so you can imagine what kind of a presence that creates.

Both Nic and Jordan, being in the same production (Jordan was Nic's u/s in the UK tour, is now Stewart Clarke's on the West End) had this moment, but after Thenardier asks to be let go, on "it was me what told you so!", they turn and step forward so that Javert is basically chest-to-face with Thenardier (and the guy playing him at the time was like, a foot shorter than the both of them). I liked that a lot. Absolutely something my Javert is doing. He's got the height and the tits for it, there's no way he isn't, cmon

Also, both Nic and Michael also have the benefit of being broader than most Javerts, Nic especially, as he stands at a whopping 6'6, so he's a SERIOUS presence onstage. My javert is around that margin at 6'6-6'7, so that checks.

I know a lot of people say Ballvert is "too cute" or whatever, and i'd totally agree as a michael ball fan, but if you ignore the fact it's Michael Ball, i think he seems a bit more "unsuspectingly cruel" than outwardly intimidating. While this doesn't exactly reflect my Javert, he DOES have some good bits. From my notes when I saw him in the arena tour:

the wway he takes off his gloves in the confrontation was not only kinda sexy (sorry) but a bit foreboding. he has a nice amount of sass, which of course is always appreciated. his general attitude in Stars, too, like he's truly earnest, and someone mentioned how he sings it like a love song - yuuup. His soliloquy is also amazing, the way he portrays Javert as being just so scared of what's happening, but lapsing into anger... ouuh.

I have not fully planned out my Javert's suicide (attempt) yet, how he would be responding, but I've been leaning into the more fearful approach. I mean, his entire worldview has been shattered like that, the entire structure of which he built his life on has just crumbled in front of him, i'd be frightened too.

Anyway, random detail - if you were interested in the origin of Javert's scar, like, from a meta perspective:

Adam Robert Lewis, of course, with his cool nose scar.

My javert had a scar anyway, just a small cut on the lip, probably from a nasty hit to the face which never quite healed right and scarred, but something about ARL's scar really worked... so the scar extended a few inches up the face. It's changed places since then, originally going from the lip to the nose, then from the lip to below the eye, but now it's branched off to both. I still don't have a specific origin for the scar in canon, so you can make one up yourself.

Linking to that scar, and also linking back to Michael Ball - i mistook a shadow on his eye for a burst blood vessel, and thought it would be an interesting look for my Javert. I'm a sucker for temporary details (Javert's moustache post-msurm, for one), so I've given him a bad eye for early M-sur-M. Very recent development.

HONORABLE JAVERT MENTIONS, THAT INSPIRED ME SLIGHTLY OR CEMENTED A SPECIFIC IDEA:

Stewart Clarke. He was the first I physically SAW, and also the one I've seen the most, since he's the current West End Javert. Very good javert, unsettling with those eyeballs, very spitty, which I totally forgot to mention is also an integral part to my Javert. So, thanks Stew! His soliloquy is also just out-of-this-world, seriously. Seek out a recent audio of his if you haven't heard him. He's nuts.

Jeremy Secomb. Sir Eyeballs Supreme. If you want a Javert with an unsettling stare, he's your guy. And he's currently the Bishop in the arena tour! What a way to convince Valjean to be a good guy, just staring him down with your evil fucking peepers. When partnered with Peter Lockyer, they form THE valvert duo, they kissed on video in costume, so many cute photos of them together, and they LOOK the parts. Jeremy looking like those toys you sqeeze and their eyes pop out vs Peter's soft face and kind smile like a golden retriever or something. Seriously perfect.

Nick Rehberger. Current US Javert. Great at really minor acting choices, sassy man apocalypse. Very dignified. VERY handsome. Bit gay. Amazing voice. What more could you want?

Roger Allam. Now, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here. I've already mentioned he's one of the 3 people I cycle through for my Javert's voiceclaim, and there's like NO (publically available) footage of him. I am planning on viewing the footage they do have, but that's some time in the future. The OLCR is my personal listening choice when I'm listening to the musical soundtrack, so Allam is kind of burned into my brain. I know it probably sounds crazy but the way his voice sounds really influenced the way I have Javert physically speak, with his heavy jaw. Anything about his specific physicality is completely imagined - but hopefully not for long.

Chris Murray. Another german Javert I really like, from a 2007 nonrep production. If you like unhinged Javerts with eyeballs for days, he's your man. He's also just greatly unsettling. He almost made the cut with gifs, but unfortunately Terrence Mann won out. He was just a little TOO chipper about things. But i do love how his amiability is very obviously a ruse, with the way he holds a stiff smile in The Robbery on "But where's the gentleman gone / And why on Earth did he run?" (or, the German lyrics, whatever. It's that part of the song.)

Preston Truman Boyd. One part only. He's the reason I gave Javert a moustache and weird little chin beard thing post-msurm. I just thought that was important enough to get a mention, other than that I haven't really seen much of him enough to say.

ANYWAY, that's about it !!

There's probably more i've missed, but it's 5.30am right now, and I'm flagging. Plus, the post is long enough as is.

If you've read this far, I gotta know - who's your favourite Javert, or at least top 5? Have they influenced the way you view Javert in any way?

If you're like me and like taking tidbits from different sources, what are yours? Im curious to know !!! PLEASE tell me!!!!!!

Much love to my favourite bald freak <3

[clownery-and-fuckery]

It's pride month so.... have my gay Bad Batch thoughts I suppose (based on vibes and vibes alone.)

Hunter:

Popular opinion that I agree with? Dude is FTM trans, and has the worst time with it bcus all his T-Shots were externally bought so the Empire cut his ass OFF. also. hes a little gay. A mini bisexual, if you would. prefers women by a long shot. (He/him all the way- he wont correct, but Wrecker will.)

Crosshair:

gay. gay. dude is a MAN kisser. hes scared of women. never seen a boob in his life and he intends to stay that way. he's The Homo of the group. yes, they do make fun of him for being a boy kisser. yes, they also make fun of him for pulling NO BITCHES EVER. (He/him too and he CARES. he will correct you meanly.)

Wrecker:

pansexual icon who will love anyone. He's also pulled more than Hunter, so, take THAT. He's a hopeless romantic who falls in love with at least ONE natborn per mission. He confesses this each and every time and has maybe kissed two people. He's always encouraged. (He/him mostly but he won't mind he/they, he'll just gently correct sometimes)

Tech:

oh. He's a true bisexual. A real man and woman kisser. Perchance at once if he's drunk enough. Phee and him look at hot people and go "Oh, wow, woa". He's the bi-wife. However, his acknowledgement of attraction only works for him. He'll acknowledge you're attractive, but good look with convincing him YOU find him attractive. As far as he knows, no one looks twice at him. (Also, his gender isn't real. Sometimes he's a man, sometimes she's a woman. Sometimes they're neither. It's easier to just say that Tech is Tech. Because how come Tech gets boobs AND a dick? Unfair. They/he/her)

Echo:

originally it was assumed that he was the token straight. Until they discovered actually there's no romantic attraction there at all so, Echo's our resident aro. He's dabbled in 18+ acts of course, but the attraction never went beyond that, so he vibes. He's down for platonic and brotherly affections, but don't you dare make a romantic gesture, gross. (He/him but... he did enjoy when people thought he a she when he was undercover once, so she?)

Bonus!!!!

Rex:

We found our token straight, lads. He's never seen a boob either, though. He'll get there, eventually. Very dense, very silly. He's too tired and busy for such things. (He/him only because he doesn't know of any other option)

Cody:

Now. I know what you're gonna think. Gay. But might I throw out a suggestion? Dude is just a mean bisexual. Heavy preference for men, but he CAN pick up a woman or two. (He/him, regs are borning/j)

Wolffe:

This guy. This guy gets uncomfortable when anyone who isn't his brothers holds his hand. THIS MAN is the true aroace of the GAR. he watches his brothers and he shudders. (though he Wonders. sometimes) he'll huff and puff his way through a romcom for the Wolfpack on movie night, I guess. (He/they only because he likes being an extension of the Wolfpack)

Gregor:

Pan-romantic asexual. Dude is down to date anyone, but the armour Stays On. He finds himself much more fulfilled with simple park dates and cooking at 2am, you know?? (ALSO they/he as per his identity crisis. He's a CLONE??? HUH???? wild)

Bly:

Another "token straight" but he'll never escape the bisexual allegations 😔 (because its true and him and his wife have so had a third party member before) but he's also rather curious. So. Bi-curious. (He/him)

Fox:

Oh lord. This man. Gay. He's gay but no one knows because he passes well. Also, ace. He's done his fair share of people, he doesn't understand the appeal. Down to make out messy in a closet though, he understands THAT. but nothing more. (He/him called "it" by the Senate and he doesn't care. But his brothers do.)

That's all you get. Happy gay month. If I missed someone you can ask and I'll give you their Vibes. ✨️

[selfloverrrrrr]

Hi can i request yandere Geto x Gojo’s gf? the scenario is gojo is out late one night for work when geto comes over to surprise him with drinks only to find out he’s not there so he offers it to yn who is. after a while she gets drunk and he starts making a move on her for her to reject him and push him away only for him to get aggressive and start heavy nonconing the reader telling her that her cries make him harder by the time gojo is back, the reader is passed out on their bed with geto still going at it with cum dripping out of her. The rougher he is the better 😍😍 thank you

His Means Mine

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Geto, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

I was dating a Gojo for a year now. We're in a healthy relationship. Like we love each other, we always support each other and so on.... I think it's a blessing to have him as a boyfriend. He's the best boyfriend ever... I love him so much and so he does. And not only that... He takes care of me soooooo well. He gives me everything I need. Literally everything...

Geto Suguru. Best friend of Gojo. I knew about Geto. Gojo and Geto were close friends...like really really close friends. Geto was cool...but I didn't know that he takes pictures of me secretly..when he third wheel us or ..... Maybe just spies on me...

One day Satoru was out for work overtime. I was alone. Geto came that night maybe he took it as an opportunity... I opened the door. "You here at this time?" I asked. "I.... I bought this drink...satoru...I...drink" he said. He was drunk. He said he's gonna wait for Gojo so I let him in so he can wait. He sits on the couch. I asked if he needed something... a drink or a snack. "water please" he said so I brought the water and gave him...After a while Geto started becoming touchy...

That was uncomfortable but I laughed nervously and shifted. The more I shift the more Geto just comes closer. It was now getting too uncomfortable so I stopped him. "Geto ... Can you please shift? It's uncomfortable" I said. He glared at me as if my words made him angry. "Y/n... why don't you love me?" Geto said. My eyes widened. "W-what are you saying?" I said. "I love you " Geto said. " Geto... you know I love Satoru " I said. "I can treat you better" he said. " Geto! I said no!" I said.

" so... You won't take it in a simple way, right???" He said. I just glared at him. He was already too close to me. But before I could stand up from there and go anywhere he pressed his lips on mine. No no no...it was a great fault to let him inside my house.

He pressed me against the couch. My back was on the couch and he climbed on top of me. " Do you think you have other options??? " He said with grinded teeth and venom in his eyes " Do Not Fucking think about Satoru when I'm the one for you!!!" He said and his hand slowly reaching up from my inner thigh. "Lemme make you forget him" he said and his hand reached my core. He pushed his middle and ring finger inside and started thrusting in and out. "G-Geto stop" I moaned loudly. "Oh... You liked that?" He smirked at me.

He started thrusting his finger in and out harshly. Looking at me and smiling like a psycho which makes me froze in fear. "You like getting fucked by me right???? That's why you are squeezing my fingers like that!" He whispered in my ear. "S-stop....p-please.." I begged. He looked at me again. He paused his fingers. "If I stuff you with my cum then you can't resist me right???!!!!" He said in a low voice. My eyes widened.

"N-no.... n-no.... I don't want this... please" I begged him. He didn't even listen to me. I tried to push his chest but nothing. In a few moments he undressed both of us. Geto started licking on my nipple. He was being a tease. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I screamed so loudly.

I tried to get off the bed but he grabbed my leg and pulled me again in that place. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then lined it with my entrance. I began to panic. " Geto Geto Geto.... please no .... G-geto please no... Don't do this please!!!" I begged him and tears started falling from my eyes but he didn't listen.

Geto pushed his whole length in one slide and I screamed with pain. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was screaming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thrusting getting faster and harder. "This .... This is mine.... I wouldn't.... You are mine... Just mine!!!!" He said between moans. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot made my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips. My vision blurred out.

He was still thrusting roughly. His cock was pulsing inside me. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He patted my belly and whispered " Take my cum, sweetheart"

Gojo's POV

I just came back home. I called for y/n but she didn't reply... strange... maybe she's sleeping. I went inside and took off my boots. "Y/n?" I called. Again no answer. I looked at the room beside me. The door was slightly open. The light was also turned on. She might be there.

"babe, Why ain't you replying-" the sentence paused in my throat. What was I watching??? Suguru pulling out of y/n?! Suguru looked at me. There was silence. Then he stood up and wore his pants. "What the hell were you doing?!" I said rushing towards him.

"woah woah woah....chill Satoru... your girlfriend called" he said. "The fuck do you mean" I said. "She called me to come here then I came here and she said she loves me and wants me.... and she said you're not home so...we can fuck" he said. "Stop lying, Suguru" I said grabbing his collar.

"Satoru, now you're questioning your best friend?!" He said. I let go of his shirt. "I'm gonna ask her if she says no then... then you know what I can do " I said. "Of course " Suguru said. "Hope you can take the truth Satoru " Suguru said with a smirk and patted my shoulder. I just stood there and clenched my jaw.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[munsonomenon]

⛧☾༺’Casual’༻☽⛧

Chapter II: Call It What You Want

⛧ pairing: rockstar! eddie x alt! fem reader

⛧ contains: angst, fluff, pining, slow burn, fwb

⛧ word count: 3.4k

⛧ previous chapter: here

⛧ warnings: allusions to smut ! mdni !

“Ugh, Robin I just don’t know, neither of these feels right.” You groan with your voice full of frustration, standing in front of your full-length mirror glaring at your reflection knowing you’re running out of time to make a decision. You have a hanger in either hand. Both are holding up two almost identical long black gowns, at least to Robin who never cared too much about these kinds of things. You take turns switching between the two comparing how the fabrics would compliment your silhouette.

Robin is sitting on the corner of your bed on the opposite side of the small room, sitting up on her elbows as she giggles quietly. “I don’t understand, you know you’re gonna look good in either of them. Just flip a coin or something.” She says with a caseous smile knowing that it’s not the response you’re looking for. You’ve changed your mind on what would fit your persona best almost every day this week. It took Robin only ten minutes in the men’s section of the local thrift store the two of you frequented, so you’re sure at this point she’s heard all but enough of your ranting.

“This isn’t a decision a coin can make, Robin! I’m ‘Elvira, Mistress Of The Darkness’. I need to be tantalizing!” You say dramatically with your voice low dragging out the end of your words, holding both arms out. Robin sits up laughing at you, turning to grab one of your throw pillows and hurls it towards your direction. “You are absolutely ridiculous.” She half-way shouts at you, letting another laugh slip through her words. You bend down to reach the pillow before sloppily tossing it back at her chest. She grabs onto it and holds it in her lap. “It’s only one night. I can almost guarantee you this isn’t an end-of-the-world, life-altering decision.” You roll your eyes, sighing at how relaxed Robin can be about every situation. “Okay, Fine! You be the coin then,” you state. “Heads… or tails.” switching between the two dresses hovering in front of your frame.

Robin has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, specifically since your seventh-grade band class. You two have seen each other’s endless cringe phases, every heartbreak the other had endured, and nursed each other back to health after more nights out than you can count. You’ve always thought she was the one person who truly knew you inside and out. Moving in together over the last summer really solidified that idea.

“Oh, Fun!’. Robin squeaks out hopping up to her feet being fully sarcastic. She crosses her arms over her chest giving a dramatic thinking face as if this was the most important choice she’s ever had to make. “Wow, and you think I’m bad at making decisions.” You scoff jokingly. “Tails. I like the sleeves. Kurt approved!’. She points to the second option, referencing her own costume, Kurt Cobain. The dress she picks has long off-the-shoulder sleeves and a slit up one of the legs. “You’re talking about yourself in the third person, as your Halloween costume, and I’m the ridiculous one?” You scoff. “You just referred to me as a coin, I think all options are on the table here.”

Amid the silence between your words, you’re startled by the sudden loud ringing from an incoming call. “Jesus, that’s like the third time today. He really is relentless.” Robin says. “You don’t even know that’s him.” You say defensively walking over to your nightstand grabbing your phone, laying both of the dresses down onto your comforter. You look over to Robin who is staring you down with her eyebrow raised, doing her best to bite her tongue. “So…?” She almost whispers. “Yeah okay, it’s him!” You spit out.

“I’m just gonna answer.” Walking over to Robin and grabbing her hand to lead her to the door, opening it in a way to kindly kick her out. She stops halfway through the doorway “How long are you gonna keep putting up with his ‘wannabe tough guy rockstar’ shtick?” She knows how these things go, and has seen the aftermath from each one. “Goodbye robin…” you drag out, putting the phone up to your ear and shutting the door on her. “You know, that wasn’t a very nice thing to do!” You hear muffled from the hallway outside your bedroom door. “Robin!” You protest, shouting through your teeth.

You turn, taking in a deep breath. “Hello?” You say sheepishly trying to play innocent. “Hey! There you are!” You can’t help but smile at the familiar voice on the other line. “Thought you had been dodging my calls.” He laughs out sarcastically, oblivious to your actions. That’s exactly what you had been doing but he didn’t need to know that. You pause for a second trying to gather yourself to avoid blowing your cover. “Oh, no, I’m sorry I- I just guess I’ve been caught up trying to get everything ready for tomorrow night. What’s up?” Attempting to sound sincere.

“You’re really still doing that Halloween thing with Harrington? I thought you would’ve given up on that by now.” He says almost judgmentally, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest, Eddie always had this territorial claim on you, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You roll your eyes and sigh quietly moving the phone away from your mouth before speaking again. “It’s more just for Robin, but we do this every year Eddie, I don’t know why you seem surprised.” you scoff.

“It’s whatever doll, as long as you’re still gonna make it tonight. Me and Gareth just finished up on soundcheck. Want you here tonight.” You can feel his excitement through the phone. Fuck. Tonight, it completely slipped your mind with everything going on. Maybe you were being more sincere than you had realized.

Corroded Coffin’s typical Tuesday night just happened to fall the night before Halloween. One of the only holidays Eddie ever really showed any interest in. It’s the one day out of the year where he can fully embrace all of the weird shit he’s into and everyone just goes along with it. He always played into that, you never knew anyone else so excited for an excuse to wear a cape and fake plastic fangs out in public, but he did it. Every. Single. Year. Without fail.

Eddie has had tonight’s date circled on his calendar for months, you were there with him as he did it. The child-like gleam in his smile as he realized they would have a show the night before his favorite day of the year was unforgettable. He circled the date obnoxiously large in red pen, adding ‘most metal night ever!!!’. The two of you were sprawled out across his bed, half nude from the intimacy you shared earlier in the night. Eddie had his guitar in his lap lazily strumming whatever tune had found its way into his mind at the moment and a lit cigarette dangling from his swollen lips. You are on his he opposite side resting on your hips, propping yourself up with your elbow. All you’re able to do is stare, completely entranced by the scene before your eyes, lost in the high of his presence. He springs up quickly moving his guitar under his arms and his cigarette between his index and middle fingers.

“What if I played you your favorite song at our show that night?” He whispers devilishly. You scoff in response “You don’t even know my favorite song, Eddie.” He places a hand over his chest, putting on his best show of being dramatically offended by your remarks. “You really think that, huh? I’m hurt sweetheart- of course, I know what it is.” He smirks his words in full defense. “For Whom The Bell Tolls. You told me the first night you came out to see the band. No surprise to me you can’t recall that, you were all over me.” He laughs blowing smoke from his last hit. You lean over and playfully punch him in his upper arm. “I was not all over you I was just-“ He cuts off your words, inching closer to closing the space between you two. “Just what? Hm?” His voice dripped with seduction. “Just getting to… know you better.” Lying through your teeth. “Maybe want to get to know me a little more, right now Doll?” His voice fizzles out slowly with every word, finally closing the gap between both of your lips.

You knew how much that night meant to him already, and he wanted you included. A perfect example of one of the many ways he had your heart tied down. No matter how long he strung along the idea of what you two could become if he could just give his ego a rest, you were completely wrapped around his finger.

“Dollface? You still there…?” Brought back to reality as his voice rings through your ear snapping you back to your conversation. “Yes! I uh- I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You spill out quickly, overwhelmed and caught up in the memories of the night you planned this all. “Our show tonight, you’re gonna be here right?” he almost pleads. Your hand swipes over your face as you crinkle your nose. “Oh yeah! You’re talking about that group Corroded coffin aren’t you?” You joke attempting to ease the tension. “Hm… I’m not sure if I’ll make it, heard a lot of sketchy things about their guitar player you know? Left a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth.” Hoping he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you completely blanked on your shared plans.

All he can do in response is chuckle in a way you can hear him smirking through the phone. “Oh, that right? Interesting you bring that up actually because the last I heard, their vocalist is kind of sweet on you.” Playing along with your game. “Is that so? Never would’ve guessed such a thing” you say with your bottom teeth between your teeth, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Think he’s even planning on taking you back to his place tonight, take that bitter taste right out of your mouth, sweeten up the deal.” He almost growls in your ear. You feel a hot flush pull its way up to the surface of your cheeks, rolling your eyes at how cocky he can be. “Very smooth Munson, guess you’re just lucky you’re good at more than one thing.” You hear him chuckle again.

“Seriously though, be here tonight. Swing by early? Around seven, if you can make it by then. Share a couple of drinks with me before you’re forced to admire me from afar the rest of the night.” You can already sense where his mind is at for his plans for the two of you once their set is over. “Coudnt miss out on seeing if that little rumor you’ve heard is true or not. I’ll see you soon Ed’s.” Your face now fully embracing the flush he brought upon you, he always found a way to reel you right back in. “Looking forward to it, Dollface. See ya.” His voice is sweet as he ends the call.

You flop back down on top of your mattress as a wave of emotion surges around you. Eddie was the one vice you could never force yourself to kick. There was just something so intoxicating about what you two shared. For as long as you two had known each other there was just something about Munson that just did it for you. You and Eddie were never remarkably close in High school, but you always liked to think you two both had this mutual agreement that there was something more sincere between you than either of you liked to lead on.

A few shared classes and small bursts of conversations in passing through the school halls were the main things keeping you two intertwined. Eventually, he had built up the courage to fully present his full self to you by inviting you to bear witness to his “satanic cult of Hellfire”. Your first real glace into his sickly sweet confidence that he couldn’t help but radiate once in character. You wish you could say this became a familiar practice, but to your surprise, Eddie had fallen victim to the high of the chase for the queen of Hawkin HIgh- Chrissy Cunningham. His first-ever real relationship, nearly squashing all of your newly found infatuation. From what you’ve heard through friends around town, they didn’t end up last much longer than a few months after that, once Eddie learned Chrissy had only been with him to score a cheap deal on whatever drugs he could offer her, he called it quits. Things between you and Eddie especially drifted apart after graduation. With nothing to force the two of you two together your fire slowly dwindled out with time.

Years have gone by since then but you still always felt a tug in your heart when you thought back to him. Around that same time you started a new part-time job over the summer, at the freshly opened record shop in your town. You had figured that the easy cash and your admiration and knowledge of music would make this chapter of life a breeze, even though barely any of the customers that came in bothered to browse the rock and metal bins you were so excited for. Today was like any other of the few shifts you’ve worked thus far. Checking out customers at the back counter, and going behind them to reorganize the various records the way they were intended to be.

You’re standing over the indie section of the shop as you hear the slight jingling of the front door opening. You turn to put on your usual “Welcome in, let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.” bit when you’re suddenly frozen in place by the sight of a familiar curl-topped silhouette that strolls through the door. Your breath hitches in your throat before you can ever open your mouth to speak. Every nearly buried feeling you had instantly rose back to the surface when your eyes met the brown doe eyes across from yours. You start to turn on your heel to make a quick exit but you aren’t quick enough, followed by a soft but confused grin from his plush lips. You shoot him a shy wave before he makes his way closer to you.

“You have to be shitting me, is that who I think it is?” He laughs out in disbelief. “The one and only.” you say awkwardly. He bites his tongue in his cheek before speaking again, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I really only came here to check the place out, but this is much more exciting than any album I would’ve found.”. You try your best to suppress the rush of fluttering throughout your stomach but it’s no use. Up until this moment, you hadn’t ever fully understood the extent of how much your silly high school crush was still stuck inside of you. “Well, you can’t come all this way and just not pick anything up.” Needing to change the subject before you melt. “Shit, guess you’re right. What do you recommend?” He purrs, swinging his arm out to the side and inviting you to take him toward whichever direction of the shop you need access to.

“Right this way.” you start walking towards the new releases section. “Yes, ma’am.” He utters seductively. You’re glad you’re facing the other direction because the rose tint of your cheeks would’ve been impossible to shield. Moments later you’re flicking the individual records between your nimble fingers before you find the one you’re searching for. “How about…this.” You sway your hips to turn to present him with the record of your choice. “just came out last month, a bit more underground and on the heavier side, but I figure you’re into that kind of thing.” you say confident in your decision. “Hell yeah, that’s perfect.” He mouths excitedly, placing the album in his hand. “I’ll have to uh- check it out.” His eyes traced the curves of your body, his words laced with a double meaning. Fuck, if he hadn’t realized yet he definitely knows the effect his words have on you now.

You both walk over to the cash register to finalize the sale. “you uh, you still in that band?” trying to fill in the awkward gaps with conversation. “Corroded Coffin?” he chuckles, eyes on yours as he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. “Yes! That’s the one.” your voice full of joy. “Yeah actually, I am. We play over at The Hideout every Tuesday night. You should come out next time.” he offers. “I’d love that actually, oh uh- here is your change by the way. Thanks for coming by.” not wanting to end the conversation even though you have to. “Shit yeah, almost slipped my mind.” he says before walking to the exit. “Hey, who knows maybe one day I’ll come in here and buy my own record off of you.” he shouts across the small shop before moving through the door.

Holding up to your end of the bargain you show up to The Hideout the very next Tuesday. The band had already started playing by the time you made it. It wasn’t hard for Eddie to spot you from the stage once you walked in with there only a handful of people at the bar since it was a weeknight. His face instantly lights up in a big goofy grin as he tries to keep his composure for the rest of their set. As soon as he’s off stage he finds his way towards you and orders your drink of choice, a vodka redbull. There’s not much you can say about that night, most of it is a faint drunken memory of his tongue down your throat in his favorite booth and your hand tangled in his hair or gripping the sheet he laid over the mattress in the back of his van. What you can say is that night changed everything from then on.

You lean over the check the time on the clock on your bedside table and start to get ready for whatever tonight may bring.

You straighten your waist-length jet-black hair, leaving your bangs a little messy. Your eyes are dressed in a dust-colored smokey eye, a thick wing of black eyeliner, and bold lashes. To no one’s surprise, you struggle to pick an outfit. You end up going with a cropped white tank top that shows off your form-fitting black bra underneath and a pair of ripped-up black denim shorts. You accidentally rip through part of your fishnet tights putting them on when your zipper gets caught, but you decide it adds to your aesthetic. A thick black cardigan and loose beanie to keep you warm until you get inside the venue which you know from experience will be full of body heat, and a pair of platform combat boots finish off your look before you grab your bag and keys to head off.

Almost instantaneously as you walk through your bedroom door shutting it behind you, Robin spots you and knows exactly where you’re heading. “Wow, he really got you back that easy huh?.” you groan and roll your eyes. “Robin come on, it’s only one night, he invited me ages ago.” pleading for her understanding after you promised her you swore Eddie off for good. “It’s been one night for…” turning up her blank wrist and looking at an imaginary wrist watch “What?…almost a year now?”. You take a deep breath and walk towards the front door of your shared house. “One night Robin! One. Night,” you say facing the opposite direction of her and shutting the door. As you grab your keys from your bag to turn the lock you hear a faint, muffled “Use protection!” shouted from the other side of the door. “I hate you!” you tell back sarcastically before heading to your car.

Maybe Robin was right, and you should give up hope on Eddie coming around the idea of you two being more than just casual fuck-buddies, but you both know you are far too stubborn and hopelessly in love for that to happen. Whatever he wanted to call you, you were his.

༺ the end.

chapter III: ‘bite the hand that feeds’

coming: soon!

[kitsune-pop]

Hazy Daze

CW: casual vore, weed, digestion

Hazel sat down on her living room floor, leaning against the couch. It was her day off, and she was gonna make it a good one, starting with some smoke, snacks and games. She carefully packed a bowl for her trusty Kirby bong, lit it up and popped open a box of cheese snacks to nibble on while she booted up her Wii for Mario Kart. Today was gonna be a good day.

0o0

Hazel was having a great time. Her living room was sufficiently cloudy, she was beating the computer drivers within an inch of their lives and she was relaxed enough that even the occasional Blue Shell didn't bother her (or the following Red Shell, or Green Shell, or Star…). Even so, she was still hungry. Two hours into the day and she'd already eaten all the snacks.

She shook her bangs out of her eyes as she crossed the finish again, dirty blonde hair falling right back into her face as she reached for her phone. She had told herself she wasn't going to order anything, but her tummy had started grumbling at her–which she absentmindedly rubbed through her tank top as she looked at her delivery options. Pizza was always a good choice, plus it wasn't too expensive. She cracked a grin when a popup of "Still hungry? Order the delivery person for dinner too! Take advantage of our Delivery Delivery deal today!" showed up on the app.

"Not this time, capitalism. I'm watching my bank account today." Hazel giggled a bit, ordering her pizza and packing a tad more in her Kirbong. It shouldn't take more than half an hour for her pizza to get here, and she wanted to have the perfect amount of munchies by the time it got delivered.

0o0

After the third time of falling off the track on Maple Treeway, Hazel paused her game to laugh at herself. The pot was definitely affecting her now. She guessed after a few hours of smoking even someone with her tolerance would start to feel it. Polite knocking grabbed her attention and she got to her feet, throwing a pair of pajama pants on before she answered the door.

A cute girl stood on her dingy welcome mat, complete with a hat starring a pizza logo and a single pizza box balanced in her hands. She barely came up to Hazel's chin, but at 193 cm most girls were shorter than her anyways.

The delivery girl looked up at Hazel with a brilliant smile, beaming up at her. "Thank you for choosing Happy Helper's Pizzeria! I hope you enjoy your order!"

Hazel blinked slowly, brain struggling to break through the fog before she reached for her pizza. "Thanks, I'm starving." Her belly gave an audible grumble, which she tried to stifle by placing a hand on her midsection.

The smaller girl glanced down shyly before looking back up at Hazel's face. "It sure sounds like it! Good thing you ordered the special!" She reached up and took off her hat–straight dark hair dropping to just above her shoulders–before moving to unbutton her work uniform, still smiling all the way.

Hazel quickly raised a hand to stop the delivery girl (although not before giving her a quick once-over), lifting the pizza box in one hand over her head before speaking up. "Uh, I only ordered the pizza. No offense." The shorter girl looked up at Hazel before pointing at the pizza in her hand.

"On your order it says you upgraded for Delivery Delivery though."

Confused now, Hazel looked at her receipt to see, yup, one pizza and one Delivery Delivery special. She quickly grabbed her phone, opened the app and looked at her orders. As she did, the clouds in her head parted just enough for her to remember opening the app shortly after placing the order and adding the deal to her delivery. Looks like the munchies took another victory on her bank account.

She shrugged, pocketing her phone and opening her door up for the delivery girl to walk in. "Hey, I won't turn down a meal like you! Especially after I already spent the money…"

The girl laughed, her smile not as brilliant as before but much more genuine. "Pretty sure we've all made bad decisions when we're high." She finished unbuttoning her top, tossing it on the floor before she reached down to untie her shoes, giving Hazel a fantastic view of her next meal's assets.

A plump ass, juicy thighs, smooth skin, this was someone who took good care of themselves and probably knew they weren't gonna last long around predators. As she kicked off her shoes and socks she turned around, showing off a small muffin top and perky boobs. Catching Hazel staring she laughed and winked at the tall pred before dropping her pants and panties in one movement, stepping out of the pool of clothes and smiling salaciously.

"So, how do you want me?" The girl posed a little bit, showing off for Hazel as the tall girl put her long forgotten pizza on the counter. The pred walked forward, grabbed the girl's shoulders and quickly stuffed her head into her mouth, moaning at the taste of natural shampoo (coconut?) flooding her mouth.

She quickly worked her way down, gulping down her neck and shoulders, giving some extra attention to her prey's tasty tits. She felt the girl jerk in surprise before feeling soft hands kneading her stomach, giving gentle rubs and pinches. Wasting no time Hazel lurched forward, relaxing her muscles and stuffing the girl into her throat down to her belly button. Now for the annoying part.

Hazel leaned back, picking her prey up off the ground and holding the young girl above her head. The experienced pred stepped back, leaning against her counter before beginning to gulp her meal down in earnest, gravity helping deliver the girl into her stomach. With a few powerful swallows Hazel quickly had the girl tucked away in her belly, tank top riding up and pajama pants pushing down under the dome of overstuffed gut.

Hazel stood there, panting to herself as her meal shifted into a more comfortable position inside her. Already she felt her stomach groaning and squeezing around her meal, and she grabbed her pizza before waddling over to her couch and plopping down on it. The pred moaned at how full she felt, rubbing her stretched skin as she felt her passenger start to play with herself even as her belly did its best to digest her.

Hazel started to get hard listening to the muffled pants and moans coming from her tummy. Unable to think of an excuse not to, the buck toothed pred reached under her stomach and into her pants, grabbing her cock and beginning to rub one out. With one hand in her pants and another rubbing the taut skin of her belly Hazel was quickly bringing herself to orgasm. The feeling of a stuffed, bloated belly was made even sweeter with the gasps and moans coming from within, the noises starting to get drowned out by the grumbling of the organ itself. She could feel every twitch and movement from her prey inside her, and could tell when the smaller girl came, her stomach deforming slightly as the girl arched her back, screaming in pleasure before relaxing.

Of course, relaxing just meant Hazel's body won the little war of attrition they had between them. The muscles quickly clenched and squeezed the girl within her into a tight ball, and a final powerful belch signaled the last of the air being forced out. Hazel came hard as she burped, panting and moaning as she made a mess of her pants. She leaned back against her couch, breathing hard for a minute before glancing at her Kirbong, a smile on her lips. She still had the whole rest of the day to herself, didn't she?

0o0

Hazel jerked awake at a loud bang, followed by some choice cursing. "Seriously, Hazel?! What the fuck! We were supposed to go to the movies tonight!"

The tall pred looked up at her friend Trixie. The short girl was fuming, red faced and glaring. Hazel looked around her living room, noting the empty pizza box and her character idling in front of a wall in her game, the race long over. She rubbed her head before belching, putting a hand on the much smaller bulge in her middle.

"Sorry, I didn't think I was gonna fall asleep." She noted Trixie's flushed face and the way she completely refused to look at her bloated belly. Grinning, she leaned forward, her stomach gurgling as another burp popped out of her mouth. "But that doesn't mean we can't find something to do here."