#sorry for posting these separately. all in a row

[synthaphone]

just sittin

[carcarrot]

hollywood bowl btw. if you even care

my most expensive event ever??? no one ended up buying my extra tickets. and i flew here and got a hotel room and the shoes and etc but concerts are forever!!!!! especially this one

friend and i worked HARD to nail our ron and russ looks. so many people complimented us and took our picture

got TWO official sparks shirts and the socks. they didnt have the pins :(

also got a hollywood bowl christmas tree ornament :)

tmbg show was SUPER FUN. but also very loud and a little harsh sound wise. they thanked sparks twice for having them open for them

sparks don't address tmbg at all when they come out lmao

the energy for the sparks show was insane from the start they were really giving it all

really hoping theres video of this little hip sway move russell did near the end of so may we start. really enjoyed it

he did a similar move during the groovy instrumental part of when im with you think. he was selling it

unlike ny this time i managed to remember to watch for russells shirt unbuttoning during shopping mall of love. all thoughts are redacted

the concert goes by so fast!!!! but what a time

stood up for music that you can dance to and just kept standing/bouncing for the rest of the show

no escalator :((((((

russell's weirdly long intro to we go dancing. thanks for the intricate context abt north korea

russell saying 'that looks beautiful!' in between lyrics of all that when everyone held up their phones w the flashlight on

edgar taking the band photo :)))))

weird al was also allegedly there (did not see him) and christi haydon was there (i was too shy to talk to her but she looked so fab)

just a general incredible energy of the show you could tell they made the hollywood bowl show so special

got a weird bootleg sparks shirt after the concert from a weird guy

[no-144444]

lies and flights- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: you two have a moment, the moment ends, and so does something else...

part one | part two | part three | part four

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He sighed as he walked into the paddock, cameras all over him as question after question was thrown at him. He answered as many as were appropriate and off he went, signing hats and t-shirts as he went. He had so much to do, so much to get through before qualifying, yet all he could think about was you. He didn’t mean to make it a big deal, he just wanted to take care of you. You’d fainted, for god’s sake. He was worried about you. 

He caught a glimpse of you walking in with Lando as he was filming some random content for one of the sponsor's instagram pages, and his mood sank lower than it already had been. You with Lando. 

It’s not like either of you had confessed, but you’d both felt the chemistry between the two of you, right? He finished up with filming and followed Tom into one of the meeting rooms, ready to look over data, when he (literally) bumped into you, sending you flying. 

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered as he caught you, holding you by the waist. “My bad.”

You smiled. “Saving me two days in a row? You should be a bodyguard instead of a driver,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”

Lando’s jaw dropped when he heard you call him ‘Osc’, and a sense of pride bloomed in his chest. Osc was getting the girl! Lando sent him a quick thumbs up behind your back as he also held the camera. 

“What’re you doing here?” Oscar asked, not yet letting go of you. His hands were so warm, radiating heat through your whole body and making you nervous. You had a love-hate relationship with interactions with Oscar. He made you so nervous, no matter what. Your years of media training and professionalism could get stripped back by one small chuckle, one small smile, making eye contact. It was embarrassing. You liked him so much, which was a separate can of worms itself, and he looked at you the same way he looked at everyone.

“Motorhome tour,” you explained, looking up at him. He could’ve sworn he saw something in your eyes, something that practically asked him to make a move, to kiss you here in front of everyone. Then it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, your professionalism taking precedence over your feelings. “Moving on,” you turned back to the camera as Oscar dropped his hands from your waist, allowing you to move on. “To the driver’s rooms!”

He chuckled as he watched you and Lando run towards the other side of the motorhome, and Oscar started walking again, not unaware of the eyes Tom was giving him. 

“You two seem close,” he smirked. “The shoes aren’t a dealbreaker, no?”

He laughed. “Why does everyone bring up the shoes?!”

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“Congratulations on P3, Judgy McJudgy Pants! How did the race feel?” you questioned. You were doing post-race interviews today, and Oscar had gone from P5 to P3. 

“Yeah, it was difficult but we kept a good pace, Max was just too fast to catch,” he nodded, his eyes staring into yours. 

“I’m glad to hear, are you glad for the race to be over?”

He nodded, chuckling. “Very glad.”

“The heat must be something else in those cars, on top of the regular heat. Does that make getting out of the car a lot more of a relief?” 

“It does, but I was more excited about the interviewer,” he smirked. He was not doing this right now. He was not flirting with you on live television. You got the signal that the interview should end and you let out a quick breath of relief. 

“Well thank you, but I in fact need to interview your fellow podium drivers, thanks for your time.”

Lando walked over, ready to take the mic and he smirked at Oscar. “Getting bold?”

He shrugged with a smile. “What’s the worst she can say?” 

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"Oscar Jack Piastri!" Nicole's voice rang out as he lifted his phone to his ear. "My son flirting with people on live television is not something I want to see."

He chuckled as he mother continued berating him, and they chatted about the race for a while, before he had to go to the airport. When he walked to his door, ready to leave, he wasn't expecting a knock at the door, nor was he expecting it to be you.

"Hey Y/n," he smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good thank, you?" you were out of breath. Had you ran here?

"I'm great, thanks. Are you alright?"

You came in and closed the door behind you. "What are you playing at?"

"Excuse me?"

"The interviews, the pictures, everything. What are you doing?" you questioned.

"Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled. "I like you, like, like like you. I thought I made that clear?"

You grimaced and his heart sank.

"It's fine if you don't-"

"Oscar, no, just... it's kind of awful timing and we can't be together, right? That would never work, we hate each other, right?" you rationalised, willing him to agree with you.

As much as he wanted to scream and rip his hair out, he nodded, a flat smile on his face. "Exactly, that's why I was just joking."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God!" you chuckled. "Well, congratulations on the win and I'll see you in Qatar, thanks Osc."

"Bye," he smiled half-heartedly, then flung himself back on his bed when you left. You didn't like him back. And what did you mean by 'bad timing'? He spent his entire flight, awake and wondering about what you meant, and thinking over every interaction, wondering if he'd really just made it all up in his head.

But the way you looked at him, it couldn't just be platonic, right?

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yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charlesleclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,928,733 others

yourusername: @.f1, you've been my home for many years and I love you, thank you for starting my career, but also for being my favourite series of motorsports since I was a little girl. But now @.skysports is branching out and I'm moving across the pond at the end of this season to cover @.Indycar and @.nascar ! I'll miss everyone so much, but I am so so so excited to see that the future will bring! 6 races left! (also sad to be missing the historic season that 2025 will be, but oh well!)

comments

user83: oh I'll kms.

pierregasly: we'll miss you xxx liked by: valterribottas, zhouguanyu, landonorris, danielriccardo, charlesleclerc, carlossainz, alexalbon, francocolapinto, liamlawson, yukistunoda, estebanocon, fernandoalonso, jensonbutton, aussiegrit, kevinmagnussen, nicohulkenburg, lewishamilton, georgerussell, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, isakhadjar, paularon, arthruleclerc, lancestroll, checoperez, maxverstappen, alexandrastmleux, kikagomez, lilymhe, rebeccadonaldson.

skysportsf1: We'll miss you most! xxx

tedkravitz: It's been a privilege and an honour to work with you. You truly are the funniest person I've ever met. Your segment on Ted's notebook will be thoroughly missed. You will be thoroughly missed.

charlesleclerc: Bonne chance mon amour! ❤️

yukistunoda: who will organise interviews with me and pierre now? 😿 -> yourusername: I'll ask ted :(

danielriccardo: legend of the sport :) -> yourusername: looking in a mirror are we?

mercedesfmg: we'll miss you y/n! 🩵

mclaren: missing you already! 🧡

user72: guys... has anyone told oscar? -> user21: he must be so upset :( -> user92: yeah his best friend and his crush leaving F1 in the same year.

stakef1: missing you 💚 -> yourusername: manifesting hulkenburg podium next year

lewishamilton: I'll miss you, but you definitely have to come back for some hot laps... maybe Austin next year? -> yourusername: I'm there :)

maxverstappen: sad to see you go, but i can't wait for all the stories :)

landonorris: FUCK I'M CRYING WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS YOU TOO MUCH PLEASE DON'T GO -> yourusername: IT'LL BE FINE LANDO YOU'RE A BIG BOY

patooward: YAY WE GET Y/N!

haasf1team: our favourite interviewer ever ❤️

alpine: missing you loads 🩷

jackdoohan: NO I'M FINE THAT MY BEST FRIEND IS MISSING MY ROOKIE SEASON -> yourusername: I'LL BE IN MELBOURNE AND AT THE LAST FEW RACES!!! -> jackdoohan: ...forgiven.

liamlawson: NO DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE -> yourusername: JACK WILL BE THERE NEXT YEAR CALM DOWN

kimiantonelli: miss you xxx

olliebearman: will be in need of your smoothie recipe since you won't be here to make it :( -> yourusername: I'll send it to you :)

user829: someone check on oscar rn...?? -> user36: fr he's probably sobbing his celeb crush is leaving the paddock for good ->user292: BRO IS IN THE LIKES !!!!!!

redbullracing: we'll be staying tuned to watch shine -> user88: wow a better send-off than daniel got lmao

logansargeant: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 😁😁😁😁 -> yourusername: ME NEITHER

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He stared at his phone in shock.

What. The. Fuck.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

part one | part two | part three | part four

[5ueckers]

but i'm a cheerleader

pairing : paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

warnings : smut. semi–public sex.

notes : this is highkey unrealistic af so don't think too hard abt it! also i got kinda lazy while proofreading and editing, so there may be some errors/might feel a bit clunky at times, sorry in advance 🫠

words : 2148

xl center erupts with screams and applause as the final buzzer rings out— the university of connecticut’s women’s basketball team, for the tenth game in a row, has come out victorious, winning with a whopping forty–seven points over their competitors.

you jump up from where you’ve been sitting cross–legged at the baseline of the court and shake your bright red pom–poms, yelling out one of your cheers. the rest of the girls follow suit after you, their captain, perfectly in sync as the pep band begins to play the uconn husky fight song.

you’re never not tired as hell at the end of a game— the exhaustion from your halftime performance starting to set in and your head dully aching from your tight half–up–half–down hairstyle— but none of that ever deters you. you’re captain for a reason, bringing sharp precision, clean lines, and high energy to every performance, whether its on a court, field, or stage.

but of course, even the best of best have their weaknesses.

yours has actually landed you in trouble before, just once— you missed a whole count because you were distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes watching you intently from uconn’s bench, her intrigued expression being replaced by a smirk once she realized she’d caused your mishap. coach really chewed you out next practice, but you got got the blue–eyed girl’s number after that game, so it was honestly kind of worth it.

your post–game cheer earns its own round of applause from the remaining fans in the stands, and you bow, shaking your poms the whole way back to the baseline, where your coach awaits you. she offers a few nice jobs and back pats, as well as a fair share of critiques, before finally telling you all you’re free to go.

while the rest of your team head for the cheer locker room, you start toward the opposite direction. “y/n?!” one of your teammates calls out after you, confused.

“go on, i’ll meet you guys later!” you reply, before running to meet paige at the other side of the court, by the stands.

there’s still a large crowd of fans waiting to take pictures and have their jerseys signed by your girlfriend, but once she notices you approaching, she yells out, “alright, y’all, that’s it for tonight! thanks for coming!”

her voice softens when she turns to you and smiles, “hey.”

“hey, you,” you say gingerly, hyper–aware of the cameras fixed on paige, and so also you, by extension.

she nods her head in the direction of the arena’s large exit doors, silently instructing you to follow her.

you keep a safe distance while you’re still in the presence of the fans and cameras and the media, but as soon as you’re both in the tunnel, so dark that no one can see you, paige is all over you. her hands fly to your waist if they’re under the control of a magnetic pull as her lips press to yours, gasping into your mouth. you shudder as you melt into the kiss, into her, throwing your arms around her neck. you part your lips, allowing her to lick into your mouth— you want her to eat you alive.

“you were so good out there,” you tell her once you part, voice breathy.

paige grins cockily, already knowing that she played well, and you can see that your red lipstick has transferred onto her mouth, making you laugh. “what? what’s funny?” she questions, confused but chuckling a bit herself.

you shake your head. “nothing, just—” you point at your own lips, which you’re sure have also gotten smudged. “you’ve got something.”

“ah,” she rolls her eyes, genuinely sounding irked, which only makes you laugh harder. “well, you’ve got something—”

she cuts herself off by simply kissing you again, a light peck, taking your hand into hers soon after she separates your bodies.

high on the rush of the win and each other, you two walk hand–in–hand to the women’s locker room— only to be met with aubrey, crouched at her locker as she finishes packing up her things. if not your lipstick literally being smeared all over paige’s lips, then the flush on both of your faces and the way you freeze and suddenly drop each other’s hands, even though both of your teams are aware of your relationship and you have nothing to hide, certainly tells the older girl everything she needs to know.

she simply stuffs a few more of her things into her bag before heading out, lightly punching paige on the shoulder and laughing as she passes by, “see y’all!”

one you hear the door close, you and paige just look at each other before bursting into giggles at the interaction. “she’s never gonna let me live that down.” the blonde groans, wrapping her arms around your waist again.

you just laugh, falling quiet as you find yourself lost in her eyes for the nth time since you first met her. those eyes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. she gets kind of sheepish whenever you look at her for too long, avoiding your gaze and blushing— you’re not sure why, she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. “i love you.” you say, very seriously.

“i love you, too, y/n,” she responds, just as earnest, and leans in to kiss you, only to be stopped.

“wait,” you say, reaching up and finally taking that godforsaken ponytail down, feeling all the tension in your head release as soon as you do. you drop the hair tie and bow to the ground, haphazardly brushing your hair out of your face with your fingers as it falls out of the style.

“god, you’re so fucking pretty,” the blonde marvels aloud, before finally kissing you again.

your lips move together languidly as her hands move down until they’re cupping your ass, kneading the soft flesh in her palms. “paige,” you whine into her mouth, allowing your head to roll back as her lips trail wet, open–mouthed kisses from your jawline all the way down your exposed collarbones.

“yeah, baby?” she replies and then sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, making you whimper.

“want you,”

“here?” she pulls back slightly to scan the locker room— everyone else’s belongings are gone, it’s just her bag and shoes left in front of her storage space. still, someone may have forgotten something and could easily walk in on you while trying to find it. “someone could see—”

you don’t care. you pull paige back in, connecting your lips again, pushing your tongue into her mouth and kissing her with the kind of fervor that makes it impossible for her to deny you. she guides you backwards until your back is pressed to the one navy blue wall that isn’t lined with lockers, her hands feeling you all over.

her fingertips find their way to the hem of your tiny skirt, pulling up until the fabric is bunched up high on your hips, revealing the even smaller red safety shorts you’re required to wear under your uniform. she steps back briefly to give you some space so you can push them and your panties down your legs, kicking them aside, before she slots her thigh between your legs. already knowing exactly what to do from experience, you grind down against her thigh, and it feels so good when you clit drags against her bare skin, you whimper and repeat the motion again and again.

paige uses one hand to hold you steady with a strong grip on your waist, while the other works at pushing up the top piece to your uniform and bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the locker room. she immediately leans down to suck and lick at one of your firm nipples while rolling over the other with her free thumb. the sounds are obscene— your moans, paige’s slurping, and the squelch of your wet pussy rubbing against her thigh all coming together to fill the room.

“fuck, p,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut. “so good.”

paige releases your nipple from her mouth with low groan, briefly licks at the other, before standing upright. she leans in, dangerously close and she whispers into your ear, “i can feel it, y’know. you really want my fingers that bad?”

you blush, flustered by her referring to the way your pussy keeps clenching against her thigh, showing how needy you are, but still nod. “need it, paige, please,” you whimper, hoping she’ll give in quicker if you beg for it.

you’re proven correct, because your girlfriend plants a quick kiss on your cheek, murmuring, “anything for my girl,” before removing her thigh from between your legs, dropping down to her knees and crouching in front of you. ever the tease, she starts by kissing at your thighs, whispering sweet nothings into your skin— beautiful, so pretty, good girl, all mine.

and then two of of her long, slender fingers are prodding at your entrance, easing in nice and slowly. your pussy clenches around the digits, welcoming her inside like an old friend, your walls slick and velvety.

you allow your head to tip back against the wall, eyes closing again, “oh my god.” paige knows your body so well, knows just how to angle her fingers and jab at that sweet spot inside you, the one that makes you cry every time. she adds her mouth to the mix, kitten–licking at your clit before sucking it into her mouth, sending shivers up your spine.

“i’m close,” you cry out, and paige hums against you encouragingly, sending vibrations all throughout your core.

what really has you tipping over the edge is the look in her eyes when you finally will yours open, staring up at you with such adoration as she gets you off. you always said those eyes would be the death of you; your kryptonite. you nearly fold over as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking as the pleasure ebbs throughout your whole body, sobbing out your girlfriend’s name.

“you good?” paige chuckles, amused by your struggling. her lips, covered in your cum and arousal, plus your lipstick from earlier, are glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the locker room— the sight is so hot, you almost feel ready to orgasm again. almost.

“y–yeah, i just—” you swallow thickly, heaving. “need a minute.”

paige’s hands grip your hips, holding you steady until she feels you’re able to stand on your own. only when she’s certain you won’t topple over does she let go of you, sweetly kissing you on your forehead when she stands up. “i’ll be right back, wait here,” she tells you, disappearing momentarily.

“dude! i look fucking insane!” you hear her yell out, making you laugh weakly. you figure she’s found a mirror.

she returns with a wet hand towel, having washed off her mouth, hands, and thigh. she’s gentle as she cleans you up, knowing you’re still sensitive. then, she grabs your panties and shorts from off the carpeted floor, bending over and holding them at your ankles to help you re–dress.

“wait, but i wanted to do you, too,” you whine, a genuine pout setting in on your face as you step back into the panties.

paige shakes her head. “when we get home,” she offers. “i don’t wanna… defile this place any more than we already have.”

you laugh, again, at her choice of words. paige helps you get back into your shorts, as well, and you pull your skirt, bra, and top back down to their regular positions, smoothing over your uniform with the palms of your hands, trying to look at least a little bit presentable for when you walk out of here. paige wanders off toward her locker, changing out of her uniform.

finally feeling stable enough to walk, you find your hair tie and bow on the ground, rolling the former onto your wrist. “wait, c’mere,” you wave paige over, just as she’s pulling a fresh t–shirt over her head.

“hm?” she hums as she approaches, but you just motion for her to lean down a bit. she complies, and you place your bright red bow in her hair, right at the top of her ponytail.

“awww,” you gush at the sight. paige just looks at you, trying her best to appear unimpressed, but you can see the smile playing at her lips. “so pretty! cheer captain!”

she spends all of thirty seconds pretending like she’s not enjoying this, before breaking out into a dance, very poorly imitating your cheer routine from earlier. you encourage her, nonetheless, clapping and cheering, “go paige! go paige!”

she finishes with a ridiculously complex move that you’re pretty sure belongs to some tiktok dance learned recently with kk, grinning, “how was that?”

“10/10, hands down!”

[azuredawn81]

patron of the arts p2 | quinn hughes x musician!reader

read part 1 here

♫ summary: quinn has been nervous for every date with y/n. it seems like everything’s on the line; if he messes up, he could lose y/n. but y/n is dedicated to making sure he knows that she doesn’t mind. that doesn’t stop him from going all out.

♫ pairing: quinn hughes x reader

♫ content: fluff, insecure quinn, intentional lowercase

♫ word count: 0.9k (sorry not sorry)

♫ warnings: none

♫ note: i might make a separate post with the pasta recipe bc i make that at least once a week and it’s SO GOOD

♫ italics mean thoughts

♫ listen to this for the full experience

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

quinn had been tending to the pan on stove when the doorbell rang. he nonchalantly walked to the door, trying to calm his nerves. that was definitely y/n.

“delivery for quinn hughes?”

“yes that’s me.”

“sign on the line.”

he took the package, placed it on the table, and went back to the kitchen. he stirred the tomatoes around with a spatula, flipping the tangy slices over every now and then. the olive oil sizzled and crackled in the pan, embruing the tomatoes with its bitter taste. he sprinkled some diced garlic in the pan, stirred around some more, then placed the lid back on the pan. quinn turned his attention back to the pot, stirring the farfalle around in the boiling water. he poured a little more salt into the water. then, he turned the burner down to low, letting the water simmer.

his attention shifted to the table. he’d recently invested in a simple black tablecloth, trying to look more proper for when y/n comes over. he spread it out over the wooden tabletop, smoothing out all the wrinkles. two plates across from each other, each with a napkin, a fork, and a wine glass. he moved the bouquet of roses from the counter to the table.

then, the timer beeped. he went to the kitchen yet again, this time to strain the pasta. he poured the pot into a colander, letting the water flow into the sink. he took the bay leaves out of the pasta pile, throwing those in the trash can under the sink. he dumped the pasta back into the pot, then portioned out the exact measurement of sauce from the jar, stirring it up. after putting the pasta into a nice bowl, he grabbed the tray of garlic bread from the oven, carefully putting one tomato slice on each piece of bread. the juice seeped from the fruit onto the bread, its warm redness imbuing itself into the grain.

the doorbell rang again. quinn fixed his hair.

“quinn!” y/n exclaimed, a smile on her perfect face. she wrapped her arms around his neck. he returned the hug, his arms snaking around her waist.

“it’s good to see you, y/n.”

“how was practice?”

“nothing crazy, just morning skate… this morning.”

“smells good.”

“yeah, um, i made dinner.”

“you cook?”

“i try.”

she giggled. “you’re funny, hughes.”

“yeah, i try.”

quinn, you’re so dumb. first, morning skate this morning, now “i try” two sentences in a row?

“i like funny guys so… guess you’re in luck.”

quinn broke into a goofy grin.

“and cute guys, so you’re just checking the boxes.”

“um… do you want to eat?”

“i’d love to.”

quinn gently took her hand and led y/n to the table, pulling her chair out.

“and they say chivalry’s dead.”

quinn started blushing like the tomatoes on the garlic bread. “n-not here.”

“so chef hughes, what’s on the menu?”

“pasta and garlic bread.”

“original.”

“it’s very good.”

“i’m sure it is.”

he picked up her plate and walked over to the kitchen, placing the food onto the dish.

“first, we have farfalle pasta with a garlic basil marinara sauce.”

“yum.”

“then, we have garlic bread, made by me this afternoon, with butter and fresh garlic. on top, there’s sautéed tomatoes, with olive oil and pink salt.”

he put the plate down in front of her. “and for the drink, a nice rosé.”

she watched as he poured into her glass. “scrumptious.”

y/n couldn’t help but stare as quinn got food for himself. even this simple action of scooping pasta onto a plate was just so so attractive. she stabbed three of the farfalle with her fork and put it in her mouth.

“hughes, this is so good!”

“you like it?”

“quinn, i just said it was so good.”

“oh well, maybe you just said that to be nice.”

“are you serious?”

“what?”

“quinn, are you okay?”

“y-yeah, i’m fine.”

“you’ve been acting weird tonight.”

“well, yeah, i, um, i had a question b-but i’m just…”

“just what?” he stared down at his food, avoiding her gaze.

“quinn, please talk to me.”

“i’m nervous, okay? i’ve been freaking out all day because i’m nervous that you’ll realize you can do better. that you could have pretty much any man in vancouver. that i’m not… not enough for you.”

“you really think that way?”

“you’re just so amazing and i’m just some guy with eye bags.”

“i quite like your eye bags.”

“actually?”

“yes i like my boyfriend’s eye bags.”

quinn went bug eyed. “b-boyfriend?”

“are you not my boyfriend?”

“well, i mean, i don’t know, i thou-”

“i wore your jersey to your games.”

“and i’m really happy about that, b-”

“the other wags love me.”

“that’s really great, but-”

“i’m sorry, i just assumed-”

“i was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend tonight.”

“quinn, i-”

“please?”

“of course.”

he had a giddy grin on his face. “are you sure it’s not the wine talking?”

“i’m sure.”

“i guess you have to be a canucks fan now.”

“baby, i’m from vancouver. i’ve always been a canucks fan.”

“my cute little canadian girlfriend.”

“you know you have to come to all my concerts now, right?”

“like i’d ever miss one.”

part 3

tags: @verycoolusername1 @luvoblivixus @tomskookie @leclerc-drives-in-circles @dream-girl06 @skepvids @how-what-why-huh @devilinpradaheels @r0wdymaize86

join the tag list to stay updated

[nuemanfilms]

WET DREAMS || S.W

— You didn’t think Sam was the type to have a wet dream, but his heavy breaths and small whines against your neck said otherwise.

Summary; Unresolved tension that Sam and Fem!Reader are constantly teased for by the older Winchester finally gets resolved when Sam manages to have a wet dream while sharing a bed with her.

Content Warnings; Smut, piv, unprotected sex, size difference, belly bulge, Sweet and Dirty talk, Soft-Dom!Sam, Wet dream (obv), Mentions of Dean, mentions of sexual tension, heavy breeding kink, one bed trope, dry humping, cursing, creampie, pulling the panties to the side (yes!), Pet names (Sweetheart, Sweetgirl, Baby, Honey, etc.), praise + more!

A/N; 3 posts in a row? Woaaa. Also, please don’t spam my posts, shadowban exists. 1.4k words, proofread. 16+ advised.

xoxo, roro <3

After the hunt that you and the Winchesters were on, you were able to find some motel on the side of the road. It wasn’t fancy, but it was enough. You were all tired, so you didn’t bother arguing about separate beds.

You and Sam shared one bed, while Dean snored in the other room.

It was amazing, nothing really happened to piss you or Sam off and Dean not being in the same motel room to interrupt with his constant snores and sleep talk.

Your back pressed against Sam’s front. His arm stretched across your waist as he held you firmly against him. It wasn’t like Sam snored or anything, that wasn’t why you couldn’t sleep.

You couldn’t sleep because you could feel his arousal pressing against your ass.

His hips shifted, his 6’4 frame was enough to prevent you from moving especially with your small frame.

You and Sam weren’t exactly established, but you weren’t exactly friends either. Dean always teased you both about the clear tension whenever you were in the same room mere inches away from each other. The older one even noticed the glances you sent his younger brother. And he definitely saw how Sam’s tone and demeanor changed whenever Dean cracked a not funny joke or a flirtatious comment. Sam’s eyes trailing down your figure didn’t go unnoticed by you nor Dean either despite him thinking he was slick (but when was he ever).

Sam’s hips unconsciously grinded up against you, sending a shiver up your spine along with a rush of arousal to your core. You didn’t think Sam was the type to have a wet dream, but his heavy breaths and small whines against your neck said otherwise.

He was letting out incoherent mumbles while his hips continued to push up against yours. His hand tightened on your waist.

The man was still sound asleep.

You tried to be quiet, but who could be quiet when the man you’ve been wanting for years was dry-humping you in your shared bed?

You bit your lip, trying to contain a small noise from slipping past your lips. It didn’t last forever though when he let out a groan after he bucked his hips up particularly hard against you.

You let out a small whimper, and he stirred slightly. His lips parted as his eyes opened slowly. He didn’t realize he was pressed that closely against you until he looked down to where his crotch was pressed directly against your rear end.

“Shit, I’m so sorry-“ He was cut off with a groan when your own hips grinded against his. He was half awake, and he didn’t process the fact that his brother was in the next room. It’s not like you did either though.

“Sweetheart, what- what are you doing?” He gritted out through his teeth. You let out a soft whine in response. Sam could feel his length throb inside of his jeans that he wore to bed despite you wearing your panties and your shirt.

“Sam… please,” You pleaded, he let out a heavy breath again. On one hand, this was probably a bad idea knowing that you both had to leave for another case by morning with his brother in the car. On the other, he was fucking aching for you.

The logical part of his brain shut down when he heard your plea.

“I- uhm… okay, I got you- I’ve got you, honey…” He reassured, “Lift your hips,” He instructed, moving his hands down to unbutton his jeans. He discarded his belt earlier that night. When you did as he asked, his hand slid down from your waist to cup your heat through your soaked panties.

“Fuck, baby… you’re this worked up?” He groaned, his middle finger sliding against your clothed folds. He was collecting wetness through your panties.

You let out a hum in response. His hands tugged his jeans and boxers down just enough for him to be able to pull his cock out.

Sam knew you both wouldn’t have time to get changed in the morning, so he slid your panties to the side. Earning a whine from you as your pussy was exposed to the cold air of the motel room. He aligned himself up with your entrance, his lips covered your jawline with kisses as he carefully pushed inside of you. Your lips parted to let out a moan but Sam pressed his own against yours before you could.

When he finally sheathed himself fully inside of your cunt, he began to whisper praises against your lips. Cooing to you how well you were taking him, “Hey, hey… see? Taking it so well, you gotta loosen up f’ me, baby, hm? Can’t give you what you need if you don’t.” He reminded, his fingers snuck down to your clit. Sliding his fingers beneath your ruined fabric, rubbing at the bud to relax you further around him.

God, you were fucking tight. You were dripping as well, god, why hadn’t he done this sooner?

Y-You can move… please?” You whispered, he pressed a kiss to your lips one last time before he rolled his hips experimentally to see how you’d react. He felt your fingers tangle in his hair as you let out a gasp against his lips.

When he started up a pace, your mewls and moans filled the otherwise silent motel room. Everytime he moved, he filled you to the hilt continuously. Reaching that sweet spot so easily as if he knew where it was by memory. His index and middle finger continued to rub at your pearl, you stretched perfectly around him… even better than he imagined or could’ve dreamed of.

“God, Baby… taking me so well, huh? So small and you’re taking me like a good girl— jesus… you fuckin’ love me stretching you wide, don’t you, Sweet girl?” His tone was soft despite his vulgar words and his movements. You swore you could feel him in your guts.

Which proved to be right when his free hand pressed down on the head of his cock inside of you. You gasped even louder and he had a smirk on his lips.

“So deep- mm, Sammy…” You sounded so needy, and he clearly was getting his ego fueled. He loved how you dumbly told him how much you loved him inside of you, how your brain was turning to mush with his hands roaming your body and his cock hitting spots so deep inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuck, you feel me, huh? Feel my dick inside this pretty little tummy? So small… filling you up in all the right ways, aren’t I, Sweetheart?” He groaned when he felt your cunt squeeze him, signaling that you clearly loved the way he spoke to you. Also that you were close. He could tell that you were anyways though, based on how your whimpers became more frequent.

The combination of his fingers, his cock, his words spilling in your ear, and how his hand pressed on the bulge in your stomach had you feeling euphoric.

“So close, so close- God…” You moaned, his hips began to stutter yet still kept a steady rhythm. He was close too, his length twitched inside of you.

“Come inside of me, Sam… need your fucking babies in me, get me all nice and full—“ You were cut off with a cry when his hips bucked hard enough to make you fall apart. The knot had already broken inside of you just from that single thrust. And by the way you tightened around Sam’s dick had him groaning against your neck.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Me fucking my cum inside this ruined cunt of yours, huh? Don’t worry… gonna fill you up so good you’ll feel me for days. Gonna fuckin’ breed this cunt- get it all nice and full of me.” He was more vocal now just at the thought of filling you up. The thought of marking you in more ways than one. His hips stuttered before he stilled, a moan leaving his lips when he came inside of you.

He managed a few more weak thrusts before he stilled completely, overstimulation taking over you both. Your thighs were coated with arousal, your panties were completely ruined now, but that’s not what you both focused on. His lips kissed your jaw a few more times before he drew away from you, tucking himself back in his boxers before he pulled up your panties.

“Did so good for me, Angel.” He praised, pulling you into his embrace as your breathing came to be even. You were both completely spent.

His words held truth to them, you were certain you’d feel him for days.

[n-i-m-u-e]

What if Rhaenyra had taken over the raising of her siblings

I'm going to write more detailed posts on each of these heds eventually (and possibly add more heds here)

Maybe I'm looking in the wrong area or missing something... But I'm surprised that there's almost no discussion of what would happen if Rhaenyra took over raising her younger siblings. I found literally ONE (1) fic about this and it`s shame! For example, if Alicent died giving birth to Daeron (yes, I'm willing to sacrifice her for that). And Rhaenyra, who shortly afterwards welcomed her first child and felt that incredible overwhelming rush of oxytocin love for Jace, couldn't stand looking at her dear friend's baby childrens (and to a lesser extent her younger siblings) who were left alone . It was obvious that Viserys was still Viserys and didn't really care for them. So Rhaenyra asked her father for permission to raise Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and the newborn Daeron alongside Jace and her future children. Sorry, but I'm just in love with this idea: Alicent's children receive the same amount of care, unconditional parental love and acceptance from their older sister as Rhaenyra's children (!!!)

Aegon grows quite calmly without greens pressure. He has plenty of attention but also a lot of freedom and, accordingly, doesn't try to drown out his anxiety about unwanted responsibility with alcohol and sex from a young age. But even when his adolescent interest in these things manifested itself, it is hard to imagine that his foster mother, represented by Rhaenyra, would have condemned or tabooed it. Most likely, she simply kept it under control and sent Laenor or even Harwin bc girl can dream to talk him about the birds and the bees

Helaena's prophecies will be heard. Rhaenyra spends quite a lot of time with her little sister. Because as much as she adores all her boys, it's the baby girl (long-cherished dream) who fascinates her the most way. Everyone around says that the child acts strangely for her age, but Rhaenyra doesn't see anything too disturbing in her behavior. Over time, she begins to pay more attention to what Helaena saying, and at some point she remembers Daenys the Dreamer

Aegon can make really funny and inoffensive jokes. One time at dinner, he decided to make a joke about Aemond's dragonless, and Rhaenyra looked at him with suuuuuch disappointment, that he never wanted to be the cause of her look 'like this` again

So yes, the boys never bullied Aemond because he didn't have a dragon. But Rhaenyra, who realised his need very well, supported the desire to get one. Perhaps at some point she told the family that she and Aemond would be away for a while and took him on Cyrax's back to Dragonstone, where they stayed for several weeks. But when they finally returned to the capital, Aemond was riding Vermitor.

Aegon and Helaena were not engaged and didn't get into an unhappy marriage later.

Daeron is definitely staying in King's Landing. Because there is no way Otto would have any leverage! But the main motive for Rhaenyra was the inadmissibility of the little boy being cut off from his home, and heritage. And most importantly, Daeron and Jace grew up practically like twins and could not bear to be separated even for a short time.

Aemond is this one, who is most outraged about the rumors about the ancestry of her older sister's children and takes it as a personal attack. Because… because he has very personal reasons!

At Laena's funeral, Helaena approaches her grieving cousins and hugs them one by one, and then says something to Rhaena something about ‘the morning will fix a lot of things’. No one understood at the time, but the orphaned girls were visibly comforted, and for the first time in her life, Helaena Targaryen had friends.

Aegon was going through a phase of severe pre-pubescent crash in Rhaenyra and for several months in a row he tried to challenge Laenor to a ‘death duel’ to ‘free his sister from the chains of marriage’. A few years later, when Laenor ‘died’, it was Aegon who took it the hardest of all the children.

Aemond has the better (perfect) Valyrian pronunciation and two eyes:)

to be continued...

my apologise for any mistakes, english is not my native language and I typed this in a rush at my office instead of the royalty report

[mehidktbh]

Between You And Me (P.t 1)

Pairing: Simon Riley x Nurse!Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in a secret relationship with Ghost, no one knows but with that comes problems. When one guy starts to get the hint that you're single. He finds out the only way to get you all by himself is to slowly hide in the shadows waiting for the perfect time.

Warning: War, unwanted/nonconsensual , secret relationship, touching, ANGST, grinding, reader is groped, TW SH (SEXUAL HARASSMENT), swearing, injuries and bloody wounds

A/N: 11 Days since my last post. Sorry for my in and out absents, idk why I'm not as committed as I use to be. But here's the Simon Riley fic everyone voted on!! (Part 2) Taglist: @lauraliisa, @mxtokko, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @ghostshotwife420, @snortangeldust, @thychuvaluswife, @quesowakanda, @goodsoup03, @cielobgers, @andy-unu-03, @sididakra-jo, @nocti1s, @luvfromkat, @lily-ilo, @iwmtfm, @elentiyaiswriting, @berryjuicyy, @crazyfandomist, @aqxz, @yaaamadaa-blog, @itsquinoa, @tomhollandisabae, @wivwer, @old-red-owl, theverycelestialgemini, leopardfang15, @iwmtfm

The smell of foul metal floated around the room, and the suddenly rich, thick blood decorated your hands. The metal dish dinged sharply as you dropped the final piece of glass down. Finally, straightening your back upwards to now look out the closed wound. Which was a horrific scene before. Only know it's been wiped down with alcohol and sown up with a neat row of stitches.

"All done." You happily said, relieved that you could now open a window when this guy left. The blood smell was getting to you. So gradually and carefully you began picking up your equipment, putting all the soaked bloody cotton balls on the metal dish. But you suddenly stoped when the sensation of a cold hand came out to grab you.

"Sorry, sweets. Just need a bit of help getting to the door" He smiled 'innocently' but you nodded in return. Ignoring and swallowing the sudden gut rench feeling you got as you let him grab hold of your whole arm. His fingers traced up and down your skin, as he gripped on tight, you kept silent as much as you wanted to scream and you quickly lead him to the door.

The sound of the door creaking open echoed through the barracks, mixing in with the sound of talking from down the hallway. You quickly smiled before beginning to turn away, only to be grabbed again. Fucking hell- "Thanks toots for the patch up" Smiling you said nothing in return, only trying to avert your gaze from his lustful eyes. His mouth practically breathed down your neck as you slowly pulled out of his reach. Finally shutting the door.

And you thought that was it... but you were wrong.

It started out as little there to their moments where he'd pop out of nowhere right as you were alone. When you were on break, signing off papers in your office, watching TV or simply going to the bathroom. You'd leave the room to smell his thick foul and unpleasant cologne reeking into your nose, his slipped-back hair as he lazily leaned on the wall. Complimenting you from your skin to your body.

And not to mention that one time he 'accidentally' touched your butt...

♡ ♡ ♡

You quietly hummed out a quiet tune, your eyes watching in awe every time as the coffee machine worked like magic. The particularly strong and good coffee slipped out from the machine nozzle, filling up the two cups only reserved for you and Simon.

His cup was white and plain, nothing that would tell anyone else that it could be their cup only the white insides of the cup were stained with the brown liquid. The stains that told everyone whoever was drinking from this cup liked it strong and black, no sugar or milk.

Only your cup was always lined up against the cabinet, side to side they weren't separated. Even in the dishwasher, they never threatened to separate. The seemingly bland white cup was always next to the paw-printed ceramic mug, dots of dog paws was something that showed everyone it was yours.

"For me?" You turned around suddenly, expecting to see Ghost already waiting to grab his cup even though you told him you'd get it for him. Only it was the same guy who'd been bugging you since day one. "No, it's for Ghost." You stood your ground, turning around as you showed no interest in him being there.

The sound of his footsteps crept closer behind you, the deliberately terrifying thumps of his boots made every hair on your body stand up. He reached higher to swing open the mug cabinet above you, purposely grinding the front of his pants against your butt.

The sudden movement shook you to your core as you quickly pulled away from the machine. Stopping the waterfall of coffee pouring earlier as you quickly took both mugs in your hands. Ignoring the burning sensation and forgetting to put your milk and sugar in.

♡ ♡ ♡

Ghost caught onto fast to your sudden nervousness fast. When you returned with his coffee in a rush, nearly tripping over as you made it to his desk. He was surprised to see how red beating your hands were, the imprint of your mistake lead him to wonder what made you run so fast. Though the whole time you said nothing, lying about how you forgot you had a meeting soon. Excusing yourself before leaving early too, Ghost stood there with a mug that only grew cold.

Not only that but after dark, he'd secretly sneak into your office to get close and hold hands under the only light you flicked on as he whispered sweet praises into your ear. Before you were constantly complaining about happening to leave early (it was midnight) as Simon ushered you out.

Now you hold onto his warm figure, his huge arms cage you into his embrace harder as you struggle to say goodbye. By the end of the night, he'd be the one to escort you back to your room, all the way until he made sure you were locked and safe. No matter how many times his rough accent softly demanded you tell him what was bothering you, you didn't say anything.

♡ ♡ ♡

"I'll be fine" You shush him, your finger coming up to sew his lips shut as he quietly chuckled. He stood tall and relaxed, the only time today when he can truly let go of his tense muscles. Your soft touch brings him back to the present as you press a quick final goodnight kiss to his cheek. Giggling when the heat instantly rose to his face, his lovesick eyes never wanted to leave you but sadly he watched you turn away.

You seemed to quicken your paste when you shut the door, as much as you reassured Simon you were okay you weren't. Feeling like you were being watched it was past midnight and the barracks fell deathly silent. Not a whisper of someone talking or the sound of someone snoring on the couch as an ad played. Only your footsteps quickened down the hall, twisting around every corner the sound of swift heavy boots followed quickly behind.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Close Encounters Of The Corn Kind

Rating: Teen, for marijuana use where it's legal. Mature, for marijuana use where it's illegal. Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader Summary: Exploring a corn maze high out of your mind after eating an edible all by yourself, beautiful? Or... you and Dieter are high and end up separated in a corn maze. He must do whatever he can do to save his princess. Warnings: Dieter's POV, stoned paranoia, Dieter calls reader princess, panic but in a corny way, corn, corn, and more corn. Words: 1,400

A/N: Written for @goodwithcheese and @jolapeno's Fall Challange. I know Javier Pena x bonfire won my poll and I promise that will be posted but woooo boy, once I started writing this I couldn't stop. I happen to find it quite a-maze-ing!

Masterlist

🌽🌽🌽🌽

Corn, corn, corn. So much corn. It’s everywhere. The stalks move in the evening breeze, secrets whispering out with each sway taunting him as he ventures deeper into the maze. It surrounds him. He jumps overwhelmed by fear with every brush of a dry leaf against his skin. He looks down at his arm, he’s safe, he hasn’t turned to corn yet. You’re still out there somewhere lost in the labyrinth of grain, he must rescue you. 

A couple wrong turns here and there and now he’s lost. Who knows how far away you are. A sea of corn now stretches between you. What if you’re both stuck here forever, wandering through the maize maze for eternity?

He shakes the thought from his head. No! He can’t think like that. He must continue. His princess needs him. 

A rustling sound comes from behind him. He whirls around, sliding on the muddy ground. His Croc slips, betraying him, but he catches his balance, nice try maze phantom. The mud, it’s another obstacle. He cannot fall, he has a mission, he has to save his princess.

Take a left? No, take a right. Left? Left as in left behind? He better go right. Right? Well, right might mean he’s asking for approval. 

He wishes he had a map. He wonders if that children's menu from Olive Garden he filled out last week might just hold the answer for this. He was able to connect the spaghetti to the meatball on his first attempt. Wait, is he the meatball? 

He doesn’t know what shape the maze is. What if it’s all an elaborate trap sent down from the aliens? Everyone knows that aliens love corn fields. Is he currently roaming a crop circle? He could very well be headed for the big red X where they’ll beam him up. Have they already captured you? 

“PRINCESS?!” he shouts, turning down another corn concourse. Corncourse, that’s a funny word, maybe he can talk to someone at Merriam-Webster about adding it to the dictionary. That is–if he escapes out of here. “PRINCESS?!”

No answer, only a murder of cawing crows laughing at his misfortune as the plume of them takes flight. They’re mocking him, laughing at his pathetic desperation. Maybe if he wishes hard enough he can sprout wings, lift off, swoop down and rescue you, then fly out of this place. Crazier things have happened… after all, he did win an Oscar. 

“Dieter?” your voice harkens him back to reality. He can just barely see the brown fuzz of his coat on you. Why didn’t he give you an orange security vest? Ah, but then you’d stick out amongst the corn and that’d make you more of a target for them. 

“Princess?! Is that you?” 

“Yeah…” you reply, your voice muffled by the wall of corn between.

“Baby! Are you okay?” He asks, his spine straightening, his heart skipping a beat.

“I’m like… really high,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear behind the corn barrier.

“I am too, but don’t fret Princess,” his voice drops with a heroic tone. “I will find you, all this corn be damned.” 

“Can’t you just… come through the row?” you ask, confusion tinging your voice.

He eyes the tan and green blades of stalks reaching out towards him like they’re ready to infect him, he refuses to become a corn person. 

“I’m sorry my love, that’s what they’d expect me to do, we must not cheat. Cheating would cause us to lose the maze, and we don’t want to lose the maze.” 

“Okay… so what do we–” 

CLANG! A loud noise reverberates from outside the maze. A sober mind would realize it’s just the ramp for the hayride trailer hitting the ground, but to Dieter it’s a warning shot.

“RUN!” he shouts, speeding away, stalks burring past him as he entangles himself farther into the mass mosaic of maize.

He’s left you, he knows this, but now it’s even more important for him to track you down. 

He turns a corner and freezes. A friendly face appears, wearing  a wide smile and a straw hat. 

“Hey! Sir! Hi, I–I can’t find my princess,” Dieter huffs, catching his breath. “Do you know where she is?” He holds his phone up, showing the kind looking stranger your photo that's set as his wallpaper. “She’s wearing my brown fuzzy jacket, I got it in Sundance.” 

The man doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at Dieter’s phone.

“Sundance, you know, the place in Utah? You ever been?”

Still no answer.

“Dude, look,” Dieter pushes the phone closer to the man’s face. “Can you tell me if you’ve seen my princess?”

The man ignores every word he says, his eyes stay staring forward.

“Well, fine, fuck me I guess,” he mutters, backing away. “I’ll just leave you alone then, obviously you don’t want to help.”

He retreats from the straw hat man, shaking his head at how rude people can be.

He continues down another path.

Right turn. Blocked.

Left turn. Blocked again.

He must retrace his steps and attempt another thoroughfare. Crossing paths with the straw hat man again. 

“Ahh! We meet again,” Dieter says, shaking his head.

Silence still. 

“You know buddy!” He steps closer. “You’re really rude!” He jabs his finger into the man’s soft–very soft–chest, straw pokes out from under the man’s collar. 

“Oh, shit, sorry dude. DIdn’t realize you weren’t real,” Dieter says, sheepishly, grabbing his straw filled hand to shake an apology before heading down another path. 

He feels like he’s getting somewhere, this corn doesn’t look familiar. 

He can hear the crowd of the fall carnival get louder as he takes a left instead of right. He hasn’t been taken yet, he’s close! So close to freedom! Feet don’t fail him now, he can see The EXIT sign in all of its rusted and hand painted glory. And yet, a defeated whimper leaves his mouth, the corn barrier stands tall and intimidating, still holding him captive. If he can leave, he can find you help. Call in the reinforcements, find his princess. 

“Okay Dieter, okay, you gotta get outta here,” he says aloud to himself, pacing back and forth, yanking his hair, causing it to stand even more haphazardly. “Think Dieter! Think! Think!” he shouts. 

“Dieter?” 

Your voice on the other side of the corn! You’ve made it out! 

“Baby?! Y-you’re out?!” he asks in shock. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Dee, just really hun–”

Another CLANG echoes, he HAS to get out of here. He can’t leave you behind, not when he has the car keys. He hesitates for a moment, before charging through the corn stalks, if he becomes a corn person, then so be it. He HAS to be with you. He’s sure the poison isn’t instant.

He breaks through the corn wall and tumbles to the ground, snapped stalks litter the ground around him, causing quite a scene. He looks up, breathing a sigh of relief when his eyes meet yours. 

There you are standing right outside of the maze exit happily eating an apple cider donut. 

“Hi,” you smile, through a mouthful of crumbs.

“My princess,” he sighs, a wide, adoring grin spreading across his face. He pushes himself up, wincing slightly. He wishes he had a cape. He bets he’d look real cool right now with a cape billowing behind him as he stands amongst the conquered leaves and bits of broken stalks scattered around him.

“Welcome back, brave traveler,” you smile, offering him the donut.

“I made it,” he breathes, taking a bite of the sweet, cinnamon bread.

“Sir,” a stern voice catches Dieter’s attention. He turns to find a security guard eying him, face set in a firm, annoyed expression. “Looks like someone decided to make their own exit, huh?”

Dieter straightens his posture. “I’m sorry sir–there was a very urgent situation.”

The guard raises an eyebrow. “Urgent?”

“She was trapped,” Dieter says, gesturing towards you, his tone heroic again. “I had to save her!”

A laugh bursts from your mouth. “He got lost,” you explain, shaking your head. 

“Lost or not, you two need to leave,” the guard instructs, stepping aside.

“Right then,” Dieter nods. “Come, my princess, this maze has been conquered,” he bows. 

You roll your eyes and giggle, grabbing his hand as the two of you walk towards the exit. 

Dieter’s back where he belongs–with his princess and an inkling of pride, even if the guard trails closely behind.

[strongbabe2907]

Here’s a little review of Zepp Haneda - Dir en grey Who is this hell for tour 2024

In the morning i took a wrong train and almost ended in Yokohama, lmao. In the end i was there around 10:40 and we got the merch tickets.

After that we met up with a few people and had some food. The cafe/bar we went too was blasting Dir all day and played their pvs inside too, it was surreal but very cute.

Visnu brought the art books and it was so cool to see them irl before she put them in the gift box🥰 everyone worked so hard!! Go check out #SilverCoinProject if you haven’t! I’m not an artist i send in some pictures hehe. There’s also a picture in there of my gifts.. maybe i’ll post them later on social media now i have given them.

So we walked around a bit and went to the torii my friend recommended, but they were doing construction work right around it so it was a bit noisy.

When it was time for merch we found out todays sticker was Kaoru!! I hoped a shiny but unfortunately just normal ones. Still cute.

I bought more merch for friends and some standees, did some trading with other japanese fans and some gift exchange 🥰 honestly everyone has been so nice and sweet.

We god dinner before the show and i started to get nervous again.. we split up waiting because we had different numbers and i was very focused on the counting haha.

I had 235 for vip which got me… 6th row maybe? Second barrier in zepp. Which was.. i had hoped for a bit closer but it is what it is.

Again i was between Kaoru and Kyo and looked at them most. Shinya wore his white outfit, Die also wore a white outfit. I think Toshiya was all black? He wore the shorts with something on top and dramatic separate sleeves.

Kaoru looked amazing! He was in all black. Black dress shirt with big collar. Wearing a small, wide black tie. His waistcoat thing and trousers/shorts were the same texture/print. The waistcoat was much more wide/baggy and shorter in the front and longer in the back. I think it had 2 rows of 3 buttons on it. The shorts were just passed his knees and veryy wide with big pockets on the sides. He wore black leggings with them again. Black dr martens and i think socks?

His hair was pulled back in a little ponytail and he had two strands loose in the front. One behind his ear and one just loose. He had the usual make up, little fangs, eyeliner and dark shading especially around his head. He was the only one that didn’t change for the encore.

Kyo wore the same simple outfit. I still couldn’t make out the tat very well, but thought i could discern some points to it.. Visnu later mentioned she thinks it’s either like a little star or a cross?

He wore low black doc martens this time.

His voice was just 💯from the start. They seemed more energetic/relaxed than the first show (which was still really good btw). He did some dancing (god he’s so tiny..) and moved around and took his earpieces out to listen to the crowd sing/shout. Closer to the end he pointed at two people, one right ahead of me. I think one of them had made a tattoo like him and he was smiling? Cute.

Also HELLOOO obscure was so awesome. It was the more recent version which i personally prefer. It was so cool!! And i mentioned this on twitter already but Kaoru didnt do much wahwah but he did grunt along with tsumi no kisei and was doing tough guy act to the crowd and singing along with a song (sorry cant remember which) for a long but, it was really cute. They switched sides once i think. My friends said there was almost a twin towers collision but i didnt see.

After the last song (Eddie), Kyo did a big smile and said ‘bye bye’ and he was off.

Shinya’s drumstick landed right next to my foot but i was busy looking at Kaoru😭😂🙈(he was also throwing stuff). Then girl next to me notices a tiny but before me and bend down to grab it, but it was fine i mosty found it funny i missed it cos i was going 👁️ at Kao.

Everyone but Kyo also threw a tour towel.. maybe shinya didnt? Im not sure. Toshiya was smiling and put his face in it before tossing it in the crowd lol. Kaoru also threw it near the front and Die tied a knot in it again and pitched it to the back of the venue lol.

So good live! Girls around me were lively but i was standing at a bit of a dead area in the crowd?? I liked both citta and zepp even though the vibes were different. (Citta was def more intense)

After the show we got the vip bags! They’re very cute. And now i try and recover a little before heading to Kyoto.

[vssail]

aventurine x fem! reader

warnings: boss x secretary, VERY out of character, reader is tired of avens gambling addiction

this is my first post here and also my first time trying to write something in english that isn't for school, so sorry if there are mistakes. hope someone likes it!

Many times you regretted picking up this job.

It was the 10th missing call you left to Aventurine. As always, he didn't picked the phone.

Sighing, you got up from your confy bed. You didn't even bother to change to proper clothes, judging by the time, almost 3 am, everyone at the casino would be too drunk to notice some girl walking in there in sleeping clothes. Your priority right now was to take Aventurine out of there and go back to your confy bed.

After a short ride in your car, you got in that demonic place. The bright lights were blinding you. You really hated casinos.

You didn't have to search too much to find the man you were looking for. A fight in the poker table was the only necessary hint you needed to find your boss. When you reached the scene, it was the same as always: some looser that doesn't accept his bad luck.

"There's no way you won five rounds in a row!" a guy shouted while holding the little peacock of your boss by the shirt collar.

This always happened, and you always appeared to save him from a beating. But this night you were tired, tired of all the paperwork he gave you last minute, tires of staying up because he didn't want to pick his fucking phone, tired for having to take the car at 3 am and tired of seeing the same scene every freaking night.

He saw you behind the guy, and a proud smile appeared on his face, thinking that you were going to save him like always. You could see his face change when he saw the guy holding him and you not moving to stop him. In your mind, this would be a good lesson for him to stop his bad habits.

Then, the first punch came, making his glasses to fly away of his face. That was the fact that changed your decision of not doing anything. With his eyes exposed to the angry looser, what you expected that was going to be some punches was going to turn into another thing beyond a game.

"A damn Avgin, I knew you were a liar!" he said. You could see your boss looking for you while trying to recover from the punch.

"I'm gonna beat you so hard that you-" he stopped talking to scream in pain from your sudden grip on his arm.

"He what, little fucker?" You encouradged him to continue. Aventurine was suddenly at your side, with that horrible proud smile again in his face.

After giving the guy a little warning to never mess up with your boss, you let him go.

"For a moment I though you were going to let me on my own" he joked.

"I was" you simply said, getting out of that damn place. You knew he would follow you.

"What?!" he shouted, stopping you in the hall of the casino "Why would you let that man beat me up? You know that if I'm dead, you won't be paid, right?"

Before speaking, you took a long, long breath, so you wouldn't scream at him.

"In my contract there's nothing about saving my boss at 3 am in casinos" you breathed again ", there's nothing about risking my own life to save him from fights." you didn't breathe this time "Do you know how much I sleep beetwin finishing the work that you give me in the last minute and searching for you?! For the love of the Aeons, I'm a secretary! I shouldn't be beating people up for you!"

You didn't notice, but you started crying in the first sentence. And you wouldn't notice if he didn't wipe the tears at your cheeks. You were too angry to let him touch you, and tried to push him away, but he got close again and hugged you. This time, you just accepted the hug, but didn't hug him back.

"I didn't know I was causing you so much stress and trouble," he whispered in your ear "I'm sorry for everything"

"Being sorry isn't enough"

"I know, just as you know that I can't promise you to stop gambling" he separated from you to see your face, and took off his jacket to put it over you (you didn't realise you were trembling) "but I can promise you that I'll try to control myself"

You didn't reply, just buried your face on his neck and hug him.

"When I started working with you and saw you risking your life like it is nothing, I wonder if you knew what self-love is" you asked, holding him tighter

"Why would I care about risking my life when no one cares?"

"I'm gonna kill you" you broke the hug and prepared to beat him.

"Wait wait wait, it's not the same as what I mean" he got away from you "you only care because I'm your boss"

"You little..." you breathed to calm yourself down "If i only cared about you professionaly, I wouldn't go to casinos in the middle of the night in sleeping clothes only to look for you and make sure that you're okay. You don't pay me enough to do all that shit"

He seemed to think about what you said.

"Do you mean that you do that because you care about me?"

He looked at you like he just had discovered a whole new galaxy.

"Yes"

"In a loving way?"

"Maybe, can we go now?" you started to get embarassed of all this sudden confession.

"Wait" he holded you, one hand in your arm and other on your cheek "That means that I can kiss you?"

You easily got away from his hold.

"Yes, but not tonight" you started to go to your car, taking your keys to open it "You won't get a kiss until you return every missing call that I left you this week"

"Oh, common!" he run after you, unable to hold back the genuine smile that appeared in his face.

I really went out of character but hope that someone likes this.

[soapyblubbles]

⋆｡˙ 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 ˙｡⋆

pairings: prongsfoot x pureblood!reader

summary: sirius and james take it upon themselves to show you how to play a fun muggle game.

warnings: dubcon, drugging (aphrodisiac), power imbalance, threesome, degradation, praising, petting, dumbification, naive/gullible reader (reader doesn’t know much about muggle world which makes her naive in that sense.)

a/n: the way i never post what I say i will… this came to me as i was watching something where a group played truth or dare. anyways sorry for the abrupt ending..

“Are you sure this is how you play the game?”

James tuts, pushing you back into his chest and sloppily pecking your cheek. About three rounds ago, Sirius had dared you to sit on James lap and the curly haired boy has refused to let you up ever since.

“Of course princess, we’d know best wouldn't we?”

“I guess… It’s just- you guys keep making me go.” You frown when the both of them laugh.

“Hush now, puppy. It’s my turn.” Sirius, who’s sitting in nothing but his boxers (courtesy of James), gives you a menacing grin as he spins the empty bottle.

You wait with bated breath watching as the bottle lands in the empty spot to the right of him. Already you know what Sirius is going to say before he opens his mouth, his dark eyes locked onto you. “Truth or Dare?”

“No fair!” You whine slightly, fighting the urge to cross your arms. “That’s the third time in a row!” Every time the bottle landed in an empty space they’d claim it was your turn. Saying things like `well you could be sitting there if you weren’t in James lap’ and then, when you attempt to move off of his lap you are promptly stopped.

At this point, you’re just following along with whatever they say because you know they have more experience in muggle affairs than you do. But if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was starting to get a bit ridiculous.

Muggles are so weird.

“How many times do we have to explain this to you?” Sirius grumbles distractedly, rummaging through the pockets pulling out an unlit cigarette from the pocket of the discarded jeans next to him.

“Princess. We’ve already told you twice.” James scolds lightly. You frown. The weight of both their eyes boring into you makes you fiddle with the hem of your shorts unsurely, before ultimately, you decide to go with the safe route. “Truth.”

Instantly, Sirius' face twitches into a devilish smirk. “Is it true you’ve got nothing under your shorts?”

Your mouth falls open and instinctively, you try to cross your legs. James hands stop you before you can, squeezing your thighs gently. He rests his chin on your shoulder to peer at you expectantly, Sirius doing the same as he lets out a puff of thick smoke. “Well? You have to answer the question princess.”

“I- um..” You can’t answer. Can’t even think as James starts to knead your skin gently, traveling higher and higher the longer you take to answer.

James chuckles softly at the flustered look on your face. “I think the poor thing needs us to help her.” Before you can utter a single protest, Sirius is getting up, hovering over you while James uses his grip to place your legs around his thighs.

Sirius rests his muscled arm above you, trapping you between James and him while his other hand starts to play with the bow on the band of your shorts. “I guess I’ll just have to check for you.” You let out a slow breath, your eyes becoming lidded as his fingers trail lower and lower.

Without breaking eye contact, he hooks his fingers behind the flimsy material separating the two of you and lets the back of his knuckle drag lightly over your cunt. “None.” He whispers softly.

Your mouth opens in a slight pant.

Sirius revels in your attention, briefly flicking his eyes down to hum appreciatively. “Just as expected.”

As quickly as it happened it’s over, Sirius goes back to his spot across from you and James lets your legs close with a simple movement of his hands. The only sign that anything happened at all is the uncomfortable feeling between your legs.

“My turn.” James grabs your chin and turns it towards him. He whispers your name gently. “Truth or dare.”

You blink, not even noticing that he didn’t even spin the bottle this time. “T-Truth.”

They both shake their heads in exasperation.

“You can’t pick truth twice in a row, puppy. Everyone knows that.” Sirius rolls his eyes, looking bored.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Sirius mocks. He huffs when he sees the way you pull your lip between your teeth. “Don’t start crying on us now puppy, aren’t you supposed to be a big girl?”

James tisks. “Pads, don't be mean to the little thing. She doesn’t know any better.” He rubs your hip reassuringly and you relax in his embrace, basking in the comfort he supplies.

“Fine, just hurry it up then.” Sirius mutters, rolling his eyes.

“I dare you to…” James trails off, humming in contemplation. From behind you, he shares a sly smirk with Sirius as a sudden thought comes to both of them. “I dare you to drink a glass of whatever we choose.”

In an instant, your questioning voice meets their ears. “Why-“

“Ah-ah. Them's the rules pup.” Sirius quickly interrupts. “You either do it or get punished.”

James bows his head down until he’s close to your ear, “Which will it be, honey?”

“I think I’ll just drink.” You whisper.

“Good girl.” He kisses the side of your mouth, lingering a second too long before he sits back, smiling smugly at the bashful smile you give in return.

Sirius reaches for one of the bottles by the end of his bed, hiding the label from you before you can read it. “No cheating.” He raises a brow and nearly empties all of the contents as he fills your cup to the brim.

He saunters over to you and James, and suddenly you’re aware of his bare chest. His toned abs that're still on full display. You look away as he stands in front of you, heat rising to your cheeks at his brazeness.

“Drink up.” Sirius lifts the glass for you, swatting away your hands when you try to take it from him.

The drink is thick, and sickeningly sweet. It coats your tongue in honeyed goodness as it slides down your throat to settle in your gut. Beads of the addicting ambrosia dribble down the side of your mouth and before you can move to wipe it away, James is there. Licking up your neck in a tantalizingly slow manner, savoring every bit of the sugary droplets he can.

You’re not even halfway through the glass before you start to feel it. Your whole body starts to get warmer and you try to push it away, head falling back on James shoulder. “What’s happenin’ to me?” The words are slurred as they tumble out of your mouth and a sudden burst of heat, then pain shoots straight to your core.

You moan, hips bucking up of their own volition. “Hurts so bad.”

“What hurts, puppy?” It’s Sirius who speaks up first. Staring at you in a way that makes your stomach twist violently.

“My-My..” Tears spring to your eyes as words seem to fail you.

James hushes you softly, pushing away a stray piece of hair that falls into your face, and tucking it behind your ear.

“What do you need, baby?” He asks kindly.

“Need you to touch me.” Your skin burns and somehow you know that the two of them touching you will make it go away. When neither immediately moves to do so you whine, crawling out of James’ lap so you can face him.

“Please, please, please…” You’re practically in tears, clutching at James’ sleeve and desperately trying to get him to touch you.

James coos, lips forming a soft pout. “I would, but you haven’t finished your dare yet.”

You quickly straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your foreheads together. “Please Jamie. Please? I’ll be so good. So good for you…” You trail off, muttering to yourself as you start peppering kisses along the side of his neck in attempt to persuade him.

James lets out a quick breath, eyes darting to Sirius. You barely notice, continuing to mumble sweet nothings in his ear.

“Suppose, we can make an exception, huh Prongs?”

James lets out a breath of relief, tapping your sides. “Have’to take your shirt off first, okay honey?” He lets out a strained groan, hands coming to your waist to stop you from where you unknowingly started grinding on his already hard bulge.

Frantically, you rip off the offending material, grabbing James palms and placing them on your bare chest.

“Fuck.” He lets out a broken whisper, leaning forward to catch your nipple in his mouth. He sucks harshly and you mewl, hips starting back up again now that James’ firm grip can’t stop you.

Sirius’ voice pierces through the haze that seems to have been placed over the two of you. “No bra either? You really are desperate.”

He threads his hands in your hair and tugs on it harshly. A moan tears its way out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“What do you want?”

“You.”

His dark eyes narrow. “Just me?”

You shake your head as much as you can, pulling James closer to your chest. “Jamie too.”

[sourbinnie]

Hi how are you? Can you make a part two about the last post? The issue could be that Y/N debuted in another group and what is their reaction in mama performance or just like sitting Beside them or in front of them? Jealousy, happiness or whatever, after all they didn't talk to each other after part one and there is a feeling of uncomfortable and distance between them? I think mama is a good option. Thank you and please take this as a friend too. Sorry for long massage 😭🙏🏻

title -> tangerine genre -> angst with a hopeful ending pair -> ot8!skz + gn!reader a/n: glad you sent another request 'cause i had no idea where to go from that lol but hey! now i know and thank you for sending this my way.

[this is the second part to sooner or later ; you can read it here]

when chan saw (y/n) get out on this stage, it was inevitable that he fell apart. somehow it all made sense in his mind that you left them because you wanted to be in another group with another concept, better title tracks and more time to shine. he also noticed how much happier you looked (or that's what his brain was doing at least) and how much energy you had. after all, when you were gone, he knew that as much as he tried that you weren't gonna come back and when it was announced you were under a new company with a brand new group, it all made sense. it hurt obviously, it wasn't easy to just move on from one person being in your life to suddenly replacing you for other people but he still watched you with a smile because you will always have a special place in him.

✉ ✉ ✉

minho did not have a smile on his face however, it was all very obvious to him that you used them to get bigger. he didn't believe a word of what the rumors said that you had no choice but to leave or that you didn't feel like you belonged on stray kids, that was all lies and banter to his ears. seeing you perform like that, makes him think that you never were meant to be in stray kids or maybe that you just shouldn't have been there in the first place. maybe out of anger or jealousy who knows? but he started to feel hopeless at one point. exactly about what? wanting you back and yeah that was mostly utter misery speaking because he did at one point think you were gonna come back and now there's no chance in heaven or hell that you will.

✉ ✉ ✉

the fact that you were so close to them yet so far was changbin's biggest problem. he did not expect to have to deal with this today but here you were after your performance, sitting right in front of them. in the row there were all your bandmates, making a total of 8 people in front of him and would you look at that? that is stray kids right now without you. it deeply pained him to not see any of his own members smiling and it made him even sadder that you were happier without the group. he could sense the uncomfortable atmosphere being covered by the jokes you were being told by your own members. them holding your hand, rubbing your arm and giving you pats in the back when it used to be changbin who did that for you when the nervousness got too much and anxiety kicked in. now he was left feeling anxious next to hyunjin who just wanted to leave.

✉ ✉ ✉

speaking of hyunjin he couldn't take it. just like chan, he felt like he was falling apart but at the same time he was very proud of you. that choreography did not look easy and you had more lines than you've ever had, you always deserved your time to show off your skills. maybe if you stayed with them that time would've arrived sooner or later. god he did not need to be thinking that right now but he kept repeating the last night he saw you like a mantra in his head. he was so convinced you were gonna be together for life and now you were separated, drifting away into your own spaces. even when he was announced that you had left the group, he decided to look for you and when he came back to the dorms, defeated and with no signs of you, it hurt. 

✉ ✉ ✉

jisung wasn't even looking in your direction. just like minho, he was mad, furious even. probably the one that had the most anger bubbling up inside of them but didn't show it. he just kept looking somewhere else, either his phone, the performances or talking to his bandmates or other idols. since the day you left, his goal was to move on from you and having you in front of him looking as glorious and with that smile on your face, yeah it wasn't going so well. he wanted to leave that spot immediately because he always felt like his spot was next to you and now that got taken away from him too. the way he was just waiting all night for you to come back to suddenly be announced you were debuting somewhere else? it fucked him up.

✉ ✉ ✉

probably the happiest for you was felix. it's not that he didn't care or that he didn't feel betrayed because in some way he did feel a weird emotion bubbling up. but the sensation of being happy that you were safe, being loved and just overjoyed with your blissful smile, it all just made him want to hug you and tell you that you'll always be friends. he didn't go that night to where you were, even if he really wanted to so badly but nobody could find you and you didn't respond any texts. now he knew that your phone got taken away as most debuting idols lived through that. he knew that before the night ended, he needed to talk to you and somehow he would find a way to do so.

✉ ✉ ✉

he tried to be like jisung and look away. seungmin just couldn't do it though, he watched every move and it was obvious that all fansites would either judge him for it or start creating theories about it. he did not care about it because the sensation on his chest stung and wouldn't let him do otherwise. he wanted to see you happier without them so he could move on from having to wait for you and from the last message he sent you. he wanted to see your bandmates being better than what they were so he could finally sleep at night thinking that you were in good hands. he also wanted for you to rejoin but that's obviously a wish that just bubbles up in his chest once in a while because there was no use in wishing for broken dreams.

✉ ✉ ✉

jeongin wasn't thrilled, wasn't happy and wasn't sad. he was processing the whole thing is head, the performance, the applause that you received and the giggles with your new bandmates. he was lucky that he was gonna perform at any minute now so he could distract himself. he really wanted to talk to you just like felix but there was something inside of him telling him that he would embarrass himself in front of you which was so weird? he never felt that uncomfortable with you. he was so used to doing so much stuff and sharing so much with you that now being almost strangers had him baffled and confused. he just hoped that one day you guys could talk to each other like you used to.

✉ ✉ ✉

as they all walked backstage, they saw a figure that they recognized so well heading towards the same way. they did not expect any words to come out of you, maybe a "sorry" or "i got confused", thinking your dressing room was still the same as theirs. 

"hi." you said, giving them a tiny smile and they all got the most puzzled look on their faces. that smile was reserved for them only, it was the one you had when you were nervous and you first met. "i know it's weird that i'm here after so long and i did not answer your messages. i did read them all though and i'm sorry about how i made you feel, about worrying you. i obviously can't talk about what exactly happened but i know you all too well to know that it's creating a weird atmosphere between us and that's one thing we promised would never happen. i just hope that you understand that i want the best for you and i wish you good luck on your performance and congrats on your wins of course."

that's all they said before being stopped by someone hugging them and not letting go. it was a broken scene but it at least brought some hope. jisung felt so completely torn between the anger and the sadness that he just felt relieved when (y/n) muttered those words to them. it took so much strength to do that when they couldn't do it because of the contract, the company but mostly because it could create tension and drama but none of them wanted that. at the end of the day they wanted (y/n) to be happy and if seeing them with another team was the right path then that's all that mattered.

felix joined in on the hug and eventually everyone was there as they suffocated their ex band member. a broken scene didn't have to be so ripped anymore as it brought a little hope to them all like they needed. you would be coming back to them slowly, maybe not the way they planned but you will always be their (y/n). 

[fandomwritingbit]

serial killer william afton x (afab) law enforcement reader pt.3!

A/N: We're back, baby! You're probably going to have to read the previous parts for this as it's been fucking ages, you can find them here (pt.1 and pt.2) especially for a refresher on William's bizarre ability.

Reader is forced to return to Afton, even after what happened last time. And finally he gets to make her his.

Warnings: smut, dub con, violence, injury detail, blood/pain kink?, predator/prey stuff. This series continues to be fucked up, so bear that in mind lmao.

“I just can’t.” you say bluntly into the phone, quickly to be met by a sigh from your boss. There was no way you could face Afton again. Your body physically wouldn’t let you and the thought of it crippled you with fear. Hence this call, letting your superior know you won’t be attending the scheduled interview for today.

“But you won’t tell me why.” he scoffs, “Look, y/n. Obviously this case isn’t to your liking, but what were you expecting? He’s a child murderer, it was never going to be pleasant.” 

“Yes, I know but-” The man on the other end of the phone didn’t wait for your argument and you could tell that his decision was already made.

He sighs, “We don't have the resources to send someone else. Moreover, you have taken and categorised the information yourself so far, it would take time for you to share this with another agent. Time we don’t have.” This dispassion and lack of concern in his voice made tears prick your eyes, he didn't understand. You couldn’t go back to the facility and sit opposite a man that had been endlessly playing with you since you met him. 

You hadn't seen William Afton since he cornered you in the interview room, since you used him for pleasure, since you came to, curled up on the floor of your apartment ravaged by tears and the searing guilt of what you had done. How could you continue this case? But how could you not? It's not like you can tell your boss that reason, it’s unbelievable, you yourself could hardly comprehend it. Hell, even if he did believe you, you’d lose your job.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I know it’s taking an emotional toll on you, how couldn’t it? But we need you to continue.” Your tears are obscured by a venomous scowl you have no control of- ‘an emotional toll’, you could laugh at that. He had no idea. You feel watched at all times, vulnerable, and as such have lost sleep because you don’t know when or how he will toy with you next. 

“I-” 

Again you are cut off by his uncaring and bored tone. “I’m sorry, but if you refuse… your contract will be terminated as per clause... 14a.”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice cracks with the words and you have to take a pause to steady your breath and resign yourself to this fate. The fate of continuing to be this child killer’s play thing. “I understand and I will proceed.” You enunciate each word separately, unable to pretend to be polite. 

You can picture the arrogant expression on your superior’s face and it makes your fist clench automatically revealing a row of white knuckles. “Tomorrow, report to me afterwards.” And you agree, through gritted teeth, the now very familiar sensation of dread making itself known.

Tomorrow. You would be there tomorrow, faced with the reality of your ghost.

~

Afton had a nagging feeling you wouldn’t show, no doubt terrified of the fallout of what you’d let him do to you last time. As much as he’d expected this, that did nothing to ease the boredom of being locked in his cell all day with only planning and thought for stimulation. 

He had warned you, told you that you would regret not showing, not playing his game. You’re a fool if you think that abandoning your post would be the end of it. Would it fuck. If anything it just made him want to teach you a lesson about resolve and determination, something you were clearly lacking. 

It was his goal to break you down, make you malleable, the perfect toy for him. And clearly it was easier than he’d have thought, you jumped at the chance to use him then crumbled immediately. So he left you alone for a while, let the fear of yourself amplify.

The pacing of his cell ceased for a moment to allow himself a chuckle at how bizarre this was. He was on edge at your absence and felt as though he lacked control. He’d see you soon, tonight perhaps, but how should he proceed? You hated him, it was poisonous around you and dripping with rage, targeted at him but rooted in hate for yourself and your powerlessness. Because you were powerless, even if you ran or hid, you were powerless because deep down you wanted him to find you out.  

God, it was evident in your last meeting. You’d resisted, spat on him, your disgust making his cock rock hard. And then you’d lost yourself, faltered so easily. Dragging yourself against him fuelled by burning lust, he could practically see it in your eyes, hunger plain and simple. Just thinking about it made him carnal, he had received nothing from the interaction but the image and it was a fucking sweet one to say the least, he would have acted on the picture right then and now, pulling his shirt up slightly to gain access to his waistband. But he’s quickly interrupted by footsteps down the corridor. 

It was two sets of steps, intending to be slow and purposeful but instead reeking of entitlement, it was no doubt his favourite duo of coppers. Dithers and Paulson. He sighed, turning his back to the glass wall, not wanting interaction with PC Douche and PC Can’t-walk-straight-for-Douche’s-hand-up-his-arse.

The steps stop outside his cell, bringing with it a heavy silence. They were waiting for him to turn but he only sniggered, pressing his tongue over his front teeth. His silent refusal caused officer Dithers to glance at the other guard, a mean spirited smirk crossing his face as he walked over to the door, raising his hand to pound the glass. Trying to corral him like a fucking caged animal. 

“Come on, knobhead. Got something to say to you.” Dithers called out sing-song style, the other guard laughing in toe. 

Afton turns, making a point of sizing the officer up, exhaling loudly through his nose as he approaches the door. Sticking his chin up and letting a smirk slide across his face at the height difference between himself and both these officers. And although Dithers would never admit it, he had to step back to effectively meet his eyeline. 

“Morning, kiddie-fiddler.” He says, instantly turning to his mate for validation. The killer sneers, forcing himself to not rise to the words of this shit-stirrer in front of him. To put it lightly, Dithers was lucky for the walls of the cell. “Been busy, huh?” He gestures to how his uniform was disturbed from the activity he was about to indulge in, spurred on by the memory of his last encounter with you. “Suppose you’ve got nowt to do but pull your prick all day.” 

The two officers shared a look of amusement that was instantly shattered when Afton grinned, “And… you’re here to watch?” Their machismo makes them stand a little straighter and avert their gaze. Their instant school-yard response of ‘you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ dead air because yes, he probably would. 

Awkwardness remains for a few moments before it's broken by the guard. “Looks like that pretty little agent ain’t coming today.” He gets closer to the glass trying to assert dominance, “She must’ve got bored of talking to nonces.” 

Afton looks down his nose, the smirk on his face as aggravating as a slap in the face. “They should put someone else on duty then.” he sniggers.

At that, Dithers slams his hand against the glass and takes out his keys, the aggressive rattling loud in the otherwise silent corridor. Afton just chuckles, clearly he’s struck a nerve if this bastard thinks it’s a good idea to pick a fight with him in this tiny cell. The raised voices of Dithers and his crony catches O’Connor’s attention from his post and he moves quickly down the corridor to see the key raised to the lock and hear the threats of the fuming officer. 

He shouts at the soon-to-be altercation, “What the Hell is going on here!?” Forcing his hand between Dithers and the lock, getting cut up by his movement in the process. “Are you fucking stupid?” He hisses in pain, and holds up his hand to show Dithers the blooming blood, causing the aggressor to back off, the ugly expression on his face demonstrating that he knew he’d fucked up big time now.

“Shit.” he mumbles, mouth opening to give excuses. 

O’Connor snaps and grabs him by the collar, shaking him before pushing him back, leaving him to stumble. “Just- feck off and get me first aid.” The words are hissed, his tone harder than they’d ever thought possible from someone they’d before considered a soft-arse. 

Dithers nods and moves away, the other guard follows suit, both hoping to find the captain before O’Connor could, conveniently forgetting the CCTV is on his side. As they retreat, O’Connor grabs his hand, wincing in pain, he wipes the blood to see the injury underneath. The keys had pieced his palm fairly deep and the blood was pouring. He mumbles the word ‘fuck’ under his breath. 

“You alright, big boy?” Afton smirked, but he wasn’t laughing any more though because he recognised that this young lad had probably just gotten him out of a week in seg. for something that wasn’t really his fault.

The officer looks from his injury to the criminal, “What the fuck was that about?”

“You tell me. I were minding my own.” 

He scoffs, to be fair that was pretty hard to believe. “Yeah let’s see if that’s what the cameras say.” Afton laughs, moving away from the glass to sit on his bunk. Officer Dithers was a fucking joke, that whole display was pathetic, all the CCTV could tell was he stood their calm as anything whilst the guard tried to prove how big his bollocks were, the runt. 

He remained on his bunk, watching the officer try to stem the flow of blood with his fingers. The action irritates him, “You want to get that sorted. Disinfectant. I wouldn’t wait for PC Dipshit.” 

O’Connor turned to again face the man inside his cell, his brows furrowed. What was that, advice? How weird, he thought to himself, must be this freak’s way of a thank you.   

~

The next day when you arrived at the facility your heart was in your throat, firmly lodged there making it impossible for you to breathe normally. You’d called early this morning, arranged everything the same as it should have been yesterday, but it did nothing to ease your nerves. You pause outside the doors, taking a moment to reassure yourself, it’s anxiety, nothing new, once you clapped eyes on the bastard it’d subside - at least you hope so. But that didn’t make it any easier to enter the building. 

“Hey!” a man’s voice calls out to you, making you turn to the direction of its source. Your kind-of friend, O’Connor, gave you a shy wave, a bundle of bandages wrapped around his palm. And giving him a slight smile you go over, fists clenched tight to stop your hands from trembling, hating how much effort you need to stay remotely professional right now. 

“Hi. What happened?” you ask instantly, pointing at the covering on his hand. It was out of curiosity but also your need to keep the conversation away from last week and your absence yesterday. 

He looks down to his hand as though he’d forgotten about the injury altogether. “Oh, your man, Afton, had a row with uh Officer Dithers.” He smiles bashfully and some colour appears on his face. “I intervened and-”

“Afton did that?” You cut him off, voice stern due to anxiety and coming off sharper than intended. 

The smile falls at your tone, he can tell something is bothering you, though to be fair I didn’t exactly take an emotional genius. “No, no. Dithers did, it was an accident- doesn’t really matter. Are you… okay?” 

You pick up that he’s not just asking etiquettely, it's touched with concern. So you double check that the expression on your face isn’t revealing too much, and smile as much as you can. “Yeah, sorry. Just… after last week I’m put off, to say the least.” It’s a reasonable excuse and you’re so glad it came to you as easily as it did.

“Yeah, I get it. But uh if you want, I can get someone to go in there with you, I don’t mind doing it?” The second the idea leaves him he sees your face change, like you breathed out for the first time since you walked in, a bucket of tension off your shoulders. 

You blink as relief seeps through your veins, this guy must really like you to offer that. “Is that something that can happen? I mean, that would be great, but who do I ask?”

“I’ll talk to the cap., you can wait here, or…” Or go in alone, you finish the thought for him in your head, weighing it up. Obviously waiting for him is preferable, then you won’t have to face your demon alone, it’ll keep Afton in check too, no sly comments if he’s there. But… you’re on a strict time schedule to make up for yesterday and your boss wants your report in exactly two hours. The anxiety creeps back in when you realise that you’ll have to do the first stretch on your own. 

You assure yourself, as much as O'Connor, that you’ll be fine, though it’s a complete lie. He goes straight to the Captain’s office, leaving you to take yourself to what feels like your doom. Maybe it’s better because the silence gives you an opportunity to ground yourself, you’re safe here, you have someone staying at your flat with you, you don’t have to subject yourself to these awful impulses Afton released from you; you just have to conduct your questioning. It helps somewhat, the fear now lessened to a nagging tightness in your shoulders, by the time you stand outside the interview door and exchange a few words with the guard there.  

But still you find yourself trembling when he unlocks the door and holds it open for you.

Seeing Afton sitting there waiting for you, makes your whole body go tense. This was ridiculous, you should be here, you shouldn’t have to do this, not after the landslide of emotions you’re still recovering from. How can you be terrified of someone doing something you liked? Maybe you’re not really scared of Afton, maybe you’re scared of what Afton is turning you into. This pathetic, shaky mess isn’t you. And so, with a nod to the guard on the door, he closes it, the small beep indicating the lock becoming active and sealing you in here, with him. 

You take a deep breath and force yourself into business mode, slowly walking over and taking a seat, all without actually looking the criminal in the eye, though you feel him staring and analysing your every movement. Once seated you make yourself look at him, though the struggle to do so is evident in the tension of your jaw. He catches the flicker of a wince on your face and smiles broadly. 

“Just as I were starting to think you wouldn’t come back. Here you are…” Afton breaks the silence that was just beginning to become too long, he plays with the words, taking his time to speak whilst bringing his hands up to rest under his chin. He takes you in, dressed all modestly today, like you’re trying to compensate for last week, it’s cute. As he moves you notice he’s wearing different cuffs, these ones not a chain between them but a thick solid metal bar. It must be some fallout from the interaction with Officer Dithers, though you can’t see why. 

You swallow, internally begging your voice not to crack, “We’re only a day behind schedule. I think you’re being overdramatic, Mr Afton.” The second you get the words out you applaud yourself, grateful that the role of lawyer wasn’t too difficult to slip into, though maybe that was partly due to the impending arrival of O’Connor. 

“Overdramatic, huh?” He laughs, “And what would you call your reaction to what happened last time I seen you?” His tone is dripping with accusation, implying you missed yesterday because of it, a sarcastic sharpness layered on the words. It looks like you missing yesterday’s session pissed him off more than reasonably, he probably thought his ‘skills’ weren’t paying off and that you had slipped out of his control. 

“You mean that pathetic display of violence on that officer?” The dismissive way you speak annoys him, manifesting in a slight scowl. You must think you’re so clever sitting there, trying to pretend you weren’t on the verge of breaking, he can see it in your eyes, you’re close to being his.

“Why? Did it scare you? You know that that’s not what I’m talking about.” He speaks a little more harshly, the theatrics dropping off by the second. But your words didn’t reflect how you actually felt about that day, when he headbutted that guard, there was no reaction of pain. Not even a flinch. And that was disturbing. Maybe that explains these more secure cuffs.

Sighing, you wave your hand, not wanting this teasing to go on. This needs to be over as fast as possible, for your sanity. “Frankly, Mr Afton, I’m not interested in whatever rapport you think we have. I’m here to work.” You let the natural authority fall from your lips, pointing down to the sheet of questions designed for today’s session. You shove all fearful thoughts from your mind, resigning yourself to calm. 

“Oh." He leans back, an expression of faux-offence coating his face. “So, no foreplay today? Fine, sweetheart… I’m happy to give you what you want.” His suggestive tone and eyes scanning your body makes last time flash before your eyes, and it steals your breath.

“I…I want to talk about your family. Research suggests it might play a huge part in your actions...” You trail off at the sound of the keypad outside the door being used, finally O’Connor was here, you can rest a little easier. Looking at Afton, you see his gaze completely locked on the door, brow furrowed. It hits you then that this might not be a good idea, changes like this are notorious for getting a rise out of inmates and that’s the last thing you want from a man who can torture you if the impluse strikes him. 

Your friend enters and you turn expecting to see him walking towards you. He doesn’t, instead just gesturing at you to come over a look of pity written on his face. Pushing your chair out you go to him, very aware of Afton’s eyes like daggers on the two of you, his expression serious. 

The scrutiny is evident in his face as he wondered why the hall that officer was interrupting his session. His time with you. It's rude to say the least, and just as he was starting to like that ginger guard and all.

You keep your voice quiet and out of his earshot, “Well?” 

He launches into it immediately, “...I don’t have the right clearance. Cap. said that I can’t go near this. I’m so sorry.” You can tell on his face that he means it, he looks very sorry indeed. “I tried to go after someone higher up, but-”

“No one would do it?” You laugh shortly, what a fucking surprise. No one would sit in for you because you’re a stranger here. A woman no less. An unknown woman who’d slighted one of their colleagues, that must be like a triple crime here. 

“I’m sorry, I really am.” 

You smile, though it’s strained, and resist the urge to cry that’s now making itself very apparent. “It’s alright, it’s not your fault.” You place your hand on his arm, half out of reassurance that you’re not angry at him, half the need to bring yourself back to reality. You’re going to have to finish this alone, but hey, if you’ve come this far you can handle it. It’s such a nothing action and you hardly register it, O’Connor smiles back, still looking very apologetic. “I need to get back to this.” You make your intention to walk away clear.

He nods, quickly leaving the room. You hear the beep again when you sit down, finally casting your attention back on the murderer in front of you, whose face is set in indignation. Such fiery anger that you blink in shock, unable to understand what had brought him to this. 

“What the fuck was that?” The words are knife-like, said through gritted teeth. The human part of you shudders but the business part of you is intrigued as to why he was reacting this way. 

You speak cautiously, “I’m sorry, I asked O’Connor to do something for me: it didn’t work out. Anyway, as I was saying-”

He cuts you off, “Are you fucking him?” The words are interrogation and you then notice his hand gripping the desk as he leans forward, his knuckles strained so much a previous gash was bleeding. You remember those hands on you, how easily he held you still, the frightening strength of them. Then he wasn’t even pissed off, what the fuck could he do if he lost control? The thought makes you swallow.

“I- Mr Afton. It doe-”

“It does fucking matter.” He spits, the words pure venom, “Answer the question.” The movement of his head is animalistic as he ducks slightly to catch your eye line better, like how a caged wolf would follow a keeper’s actions, waiting for a mistake, a chance. 

You stare at him in disbelief, the ability to speak coherently lost in your terror and fascination. “I-I… no.” you finally manage, shaking your head. 

He scoffs then, averting his gaze for a moment before again fixing it on you. His fingers rising from the table like he suddenly remembered himself, then slowly laying flat. “If he lays a finger on you- I’ll fucking kill him. You hear me?” He speaks quietly, demonstrating an insane amount of self-restraint, which didn’t go uncommended. 

“Excuse me?” Your brows narrow instinctively as you’re unable to follow his manner of thinking. All this rage over that interaction, it’s crazy.

He laughs, leaning closer to you, “I’ll make it good too. I’ve heard intestines are longer than you think.” Intimidation, it’s just intimidation. You try to soothe yourself, the thought manual to try and lessen the spiral he’d just thrown you into. He just wants to assert dominance, to make you feel weak. But looking at the cruelly grave look on his face, you just know he’s telling the truth. 

You try to engage him, eager to understand why he said that, the pen gripped in your hands as you hold yourself back from writing this down. “I- so you would do that. Murder us, what- just because you can?” 

Out of the blue, a smirk slowly spreads across his face, “No, no sweetheart. I’ll kill him… Could you live with that? Lover boy’s blood on your hands?” Something thoughtful flickers in his gaze before he continues, “It’s harder than you think.” 

“I don’t understand. Why?” 

The grin doesn’t budge when he sits back in the chair. “Just because I can.” He puts knowing infliction on the words, mirroring exactly what you’d said moments ago, mocking you. Then he shrugs, “I think we’re done. For now.”

You’re more than taken aback by that, it’s like he’s trying to remove himself from your company, maybe because he’s still  pissed off and didn’t want you to see it, and that suggested an element of control you didn’t know he had. And so, putting your notes away you try to think of what you would tell your boss, he’d given you nothing today and no doubt that was going to be your fault. Fuck’s sake. 

“Next week then.” You say at the door, as a means of goodbye. It makes the murderer smirk and he shakes his head briefly. 

“Sure. See you soon, sweetheart.” 

~

You’re still a little dazed even on the other side of the door, still in shock Afton had just ended the session like that, leaving you hanging in your boss’s mercy. But there’s not really anything you could do. And perhaps, that possessive reaction could be worth reporting, though how you would do that without implicating yourself in something, you don’t know.

“Hey, you didn’t finish early cos of me, right? Again, I’m sorry.” The sweet officer walks beside you, eager to really make sure you’re not angry at him. You probably should be, he’d gotten your hopes up of support, but then again, you managed fine. Plus it’s hard to be upset at someone who’d so far struck you as very genuine.

“Honestly?” You ask, a small smile settling on your face. He nods. “Afton called it off. I don’t think he liked the interruption.” 

He chuckles, “Or he didn’t like the idea of you having a life outside that room.” 

You look at him then, your brows narrowed in thought. “What do you mean?” You know more than you’re saying, but getting his opinion on your surface level relationship with your charge could be useful. 

“Just that… You know what they’re like, don’t see a lass for years and now he has one visiting him every week? He probably thinks you’re a lot closer than you are.” You try not to let your reality manifest in your expression and smile politely. He has no fucking idea how close you are. God, you wish you didn’t. 

~

You’re so comforted by your little do with the officer that it makes the drive home easier, instead of being fearful of what would await you later on you replay the entire conversation, focusing on your side and hoping you didn’t make a melt of yourself. The analysis makes the drive fly by and you’re parking in your building before you know it, messaging your temporary housemate to check that they’re in and physically relaxing with the knowledge that they are. Today couldn’t have gone better really, especially after all the anxiety you had prior to going to work, and now you can forget about it, well, as much as you're able to with Afton’s words still sharp in your mind.  

Unlocking your apartment door, you step inside and call out instantly to the person waiting for you. No reply. But the blurred sound of the tv calms your nerves, they probably didn’t hear you over it, nothing more. The flat is still, your kitchen exactly as you’d left it, pots and all, the table messy with a pile of washing on it. Why you’re looking for something wrong is unknown, but an eerie feeling in your gut tells you to be careful, and you know better than to ignore it. 

Going through to the living area, you stiffen at the sight of the empty sofa, the telly playing to itself and your houseguest nowhere to be seen. Your intuition was right, something was gravely off and the heavy silence makes you turn to the open door, a tightness spreading across your chest. On a small table near the door there’s a kitchen knife, probably the biggest one in your rack, and it’s just laid there. Although it’s a menacing sight you go over to it and pick up the blade, a soft security in having something to defend yourself with. Maybe you’re overthinking, allowing your fears of further confrontation with Afton to come to fruition, but you can’t physically relax. Your friend could just be in the toilet, or the bedroom, yet something tells you not to call out again. 

Whilst you’re looking at the hefty knife in your hand a devastatingly loud scraping sound comes from outside the room. Like some heavy furniture being pulled across the floor without care. You hold the blade to your chest, eyes flicking over everything as you walk back towards the kitchen, a prey mindset coming over you, making you consider your escape options. Not the front door, you locked it, it would take too long, besides surely your pursuer would catch you, unless… you tighten your grip on the knife.

In the kitchen you find the source of noise, one of the chairs strewn across the room and knocked over. You steady yourself as much as possible, mind too pragmatic to let fear overcome you right now and head to the chair, picking it up as quickly and silently as you can. It’s then that that god-awful sensation of eyes makes you tense, and so you turn, knowing before you can see that it's him. 

You don’t question how Afton is in your flat, hell, maybe deep down you’d expected it, at least he was in front of you and in your sight, there’s a certain power that comes with that. “What do you want?” You speak gruffly, not allowing any smidge of terror in your voice, you have to stay strong… for all that worked last time. But today is different. 

“I thought I’d pay you a visit. It’s a nice place you have here… real private.” 

“And this?” You hold the knife forward, the light catching it and making the blade shine, “We’re playing games now?” He laughs at that, leaning his huge frame against the wall of the hallway, letting you see the front door over his shoulder. 

“We’ve always been playing games. I felt bad for you, thought I’d give you a chance.” He grins and it’s meaner than usual, so is his tone, this didn’t feel like giving you a chance, more like setting you up for failure so he can see the hope die in your eyes. You can’t help but think this could be punishment.

“If you think I wouldn’t use it- you’re wrong.” You say sternly, putting a lot of effort into keeping your voice solid. He doesn’t look perturbed in the slightest, if anything a tinge of amusement graces his face, that's definitely what scares you the most. He moved then, standing straight and stepping towards you, eyes raking over your form for any sign of weakness. You match his movement by retreating so your back is against the counter, the kitchen table separating you and him, the deja vu from your last encounter gives you hope: this table certainly isn’t fucking bolted down. 

Maybe he picked up on your thought process because he suddenly moved quickly, quick enough to startle you but not to ruin your idea. You shove the table hard and it hits the target with a notable thump. You know it’s not going to hurt him, but it gives you the briefest chance to run, so you do. Out the kitchen to your bedroom hallway. You slam the door to keep him inside, wanting all possible indications of his movement when he chases you, then the door to the bathroom, your room and the guestroom, not before sliding inside the latter. In a quick though you push yourself down under the bed, its long covers close to the floor and side table providing you a small corner to curl up in. 

It’s the best you can do and it allows you to watch the door and wait for him, the knife still enclosed in your hand. Years of safety training and online courses cross your mind, he’s much bigger than you, you know from experience if he gets the upper hand you’re his to toy with. So you have to strike quick and fast, deadly or at least close to it. The neck would be best. 

Your plan begins to work, when you hear the kitchen door open, banging roughly into the wall. He doesn’t care if you hear- he wants you to, wants you to be scared. 

“Now who’s playing games?” Your chaser calls out, you’d expected that angerfrom before to return, but instead that torturously mocking tone is back. He’s underestimating you. 

He doesn’t disguise his movement, going room to room. Your bathroom, bedroom and then here. You’re so confident in your plan until he opens the door, then child-like terror settles in when you realise how cornered you are. You’ve left yourself no other option than to attack him and if that doesn’t work, you’re fucked.  

You don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning, there’s nowhere else you could be. He walks to the edge of the bed, his feet casting shadow across the floor. Instinctively you pull your feet up to curl up smaller, the sound of your action crystal clear. 

“I heard that.” He speaks with a sing-song tone. “Under the bed? Really?” He laughs, but you keep your head on straight. His shadows reveal what he’s doing, crouching down silently to pull you out, so you force yourself to take your chance. You shove yourself from hiding quickly, rolling to your feet and swinging the blade as hard as you can towards his neck. You hit. But not as precisely as you meant to. A slash, not a stab, and although the blood from the wound is a lot, his reaction is proof of failure. 

He grunts in pain, catching your arm before you could strike again and slamming your wrist into the corner of the wall, instantly knocking the blade from your grip. It hurts like hell, a sudden electric pain down your entire arm, your fingers tingling. It’s hard to think with the pain but seeing him kick the knife across the floor another idea strikes you. You kick him with force in the balls and this time your assault is successful, as he doubles over with an absolutely wretched sound. He doesn’t let go of your arm though, his grip lethally strong even though you rive against it. You try to think against the amounting futility but the struggling kills your motivation. Regaining himself, he meanly swipes your legs from under you and you go down instantly, hitting your linoleum hard enough for it to show in your expression. 

He pins you there on the floor, using his body to completely immobilise you, your hands now captured in his. And just like that your will to fight is hanging on by a thread. What’s the point in thrashing, you can hardly move and the anger in his eyes is a warning. 

He just watches you for a moment, still beneath him except for your rapid breathing and that disgusted look on your face, not touching you more than ‘necessary’ because he doesn't want to hurt you too much. And you’re making that very fucking difficult.

“Get off me.” You try, the words coming off your tongue sharply. 

“Or what? You’ll fucking stab me again?” Mentioning your attack draws his attention to the pain and the sensation of warm blood on his throat, you had more fight and intelligence than he’d given you credit for. He winces as he touches the wound, the smell of blood instantly hitting you. “You could have killed me.” 

“That was the idea, you psychopath.” You eye his red coated fingers with malice, the insult making spit fly from your mouth. He grinned then, the intensity of you right now amusing him. Fuck, he’d done nothing to you,and yet you stabbed him and he wasn’t creating half as much fuss as you. 

“Not well executed though, huh? You were close, could’ve done it if you wanted to.” He leans close to you, the darkness in his gaze taking your breath. “But you didn’t want to.” 

In spite of fear, a sudden indignation sparks inside you, “You’re not worth it.” 

The metallic scent of blood gets stronger when he grabs your jaw, revelling in the fury that rose in your eyes. “Maybe you’re not as clever as I thought. Is it really such a good idea to try and hurt my feelings right now?”

He’s right. Like this he could do anything to you now and you couldn’t defend yourself, quite literally at his mercy, but would you fuck give up the one power you had left. “You don’t scare me.” You say it firm, your poker face strong. 

“Bullshit. There’s a difference between not being scared and liking to be scared.” You can practically feel his eyes moving down your body and stopping where it meets his, he’s hard on top of you, and your trembling breath makes him twitch. “I’d bet anything you’re wet for me, sweetheart.”

You scoff, hating that he was right. The heat between your legs was intense, the feeling of his hands on you cross-wiring your brain, you shouldn’t like this. Part of you wants to chalk how aroused you are up to memories of last time, but you know it's more than that and that knowledge is a punch in the gut. 

“I wonder if it’s the chase you like more, or the capture?”

“Maybe it’s seeing you bleed.” You counter through your teeth. He shifts his hold then, bringing his blood stained fingers to your lips, wordlessly daring you to prove it. There must be some truth to what you just said because both of you note the involuntary hunger in your gaze. 

You can’t describe what you’re feeling right now, all your senses are overwhelmed, you want to brush up against him and relieve some of that tension in your core, you want him to touch you, your tits, your pussy, anything. Your lip twitches in a snarl when he smears his blood on your lips, before you part them and taste him. Rolling your tongue on his fingers and trying not to think of how wrong this is, how wrong you are. The iron taste is dirty and your back arches slightly against him. 

“That’s fucked up.” He smirks, near-mesmerised by the movement of your tongue on his fingers, how you suck on them so prettily, the look in your eyes something he recognised. You know it is, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, you silently try to free your arms, you need something more, need to pull him down to you and taste more of him. His lips, his throat, the apparent hardness resting on your midsection. All of it. 

He obliges your silent request, not really caring if you try to hurt him again, you can if you want to, especially if you look this good whilst doing it. With your hand free you hook them around the back of his neck, unknowingly digging into his cut in the most deliciously agonising way. He grimaces against your lips when you try to kiss him but doesn’t stop your grip, the dulling agony making pre leak from his tip. He wasn’t planning to fuck you, but fuck, you deserve it. 

He moves on top of you, your hand instantly following his torso down to his now exposed waistband, you need to feel him, you want to be fucking consumed. It’s the only thought in your mind. Your eyebrows raise as you explore him, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his trousers. He’s bigger than anything you’ve had before, so big it's almost frightening. So lost in your realisation you don’t notice his pulling at your shirt until he yanks the fabric, making the buttons pop off onto the floor and cool air hit your chest. Your bra quickly follows as he easily lifts your body from the ground to unhook it and pry it from your skin, he’s rough, letting you drop back down heavily, and immediately biting a kiss into your breast. It hurts in a blaze before dying down as he sucks your flesh, no doubt leaving marks.

He runs his tongue over your nipple and you shiver, your pussy clenching around nothing. You want to stroke his cock, feel him properly but you can’t reach, making you moan pathetically. It sounds nothing like you but you’re so desperate for him that your skin is burning, you need more or nothing, this middle ground driving you insane. 

He looks up at you then, dazed like a starved man. You suppose he is. It’s then you see how his blood has smeared across your chest, catching the light in the most filthy fucking way, you moan again, instinctively spreading your legs for him and he needs no further invitation. His fingers scratch your skin in their rush to get to the zip on your trousers, undoing it and pulling them off quickly, he wants you completely exposed for him, to see every inch of you broken for him. 

Sitting up, you again grab at his manhood, desperate to feel him inside you. Your touch makes him groan and he rips your hands from him, the movement violent. “You want me to fucking split you in half? Fucking wait.” You flinch at the words, the tone so commanding you obey without question. Realising what he means when he pulls your panties down and slides his fingers between your folds, your slick making a mess of him instantly. He wants to stretch you open, make you cum so you’re ready for him, it's an ill-fitting kindness you never would have expected.

He shoves two of his digits inside your heat, instantly making you aware of that god-awful coil in your core, it’s insane how close you are to exploding, from nothing but a vague touch. Fucking his fingers in and out of you, he touches himself, unable to help it with how tight you are on just his fingers, you’re going to fucking strangle his cock.

That thought makes his pace mean, fingers curling inside you to angle against that spot that makes tears spring in your eyes. You’re so close, you’re grabbing his wrist begging him to keep going, you need it so bad, you need to come undone. A scream burns in your throat when he rubs your clit, you cum on the instant, writhing like an animal as the almost agonising pleasure floods your senses. You can’t fucking feel anything except your climax, not the ground beneath you or the fury of your grip on his arm. It’s so crazy that your entire body trembles as you start to come down, your walls intermediately squeezing him.

You look so fucking gone, almost absent from your body that he watches you near awe, groaning at the sight of those pretty tears rolling down your face. He grabs your ankle and pulls you towards him, this time letting you take hold of him and free him from his trousers, you hardly realise you are doing it, it comes so instinctually. It’s only the sudden grip on your throat when you begin stroking him that brings you to reality.

Your back arches into it, trying to relieve some of the pressure of his hold, pleasure again sparking in your core. You look at him like you hate him, your eyes brimming with venom, “Fuck me.” You manage despite his grip and he grunts some noise of agreement, not hesitating to line himself up at your entrance, his head just pressing there, finding your wet heat almost hypnotic. 

He just knew you’d be fucking delicious, is the thought that strikes him when he shoves himself inside you, the stretch enough to make you cry out. It sends ripples of ache through your lower body, your legs shaking before he gets to the hilt. He doesn’t hesitate to let you adjust, he probably couldn’t even if he wanted to, the need to feel you flutter around him fucking carnal. He keeps his hold on your neck, his other hand using your hip to force you to take all of him, making a stream of profanity flee your lips at how deep he feels. The pace he sets is selfish, using your hole for his pleasure and just the idea of making him cum has you shivering. You want it, want all of it, no, you fucking need it. 

He pulls out of you to press your body down to the floor, hooking under your legs and pulling them up, folding you in half before slamming back in. The angle is brutal, his cock hitting further inside you than you’d ever thought possible, forcing incoherent babbling noises from you each time he fully sheathed himself in your tight cunt. He’s chasing his end, the eagerness of your walls swallowing him, telling him you’re going to cum again and he’s going to fucking fill you, make you his. You clearly want it. You gasp as he throws you into another orgasm, overstimulation making you go limp in his grip. All you can do it take the increasingly rough and sloppy thrusts as he fucks you through it, hand on your throat tightening considerably when your greedy walls push him over his edge. He cums inside you, each thrust shoving it deep, the warm delirium of it beyond words. He doesn’t realise how tight his grip is until whiteness tints the edges of your vision, your pussy clamping down on him, reminding him to let go, god, he could’ve fucking-  

He pulls out of your cunt to see you flushed, his cum dripping out your tightness. Still reeling your hand goes to your throat, knowing already how bruised you were going to be, such an unambiguous injury that couldn’t be explained away. 

“You fucking bastard.” You manage, your voice hoarse. You hate how he just laughs at you, careless even though he could have made you pass out, or worse. But you can’t deny the electric feeling of adrenaline in your veins, it was beautiful, an otherworldly feeling, and already you want it again. 

Maybe that makes you just as fucked up as him.

[thedeviltohisangel]

not sure if you’re still looking for blurb requests but what about bucky talking in his sleep about cass and the boys giving him so much shit for it? love your writing btw

All The Things I Did (Interlude): Four Times They Speak About Each Other And One Time They Spoke To Each Other

a/n: ok i for some reason really put cass through it in this. i guess it was her turn. BUT one of these is an episode 9 breadcrumb and one of these is a post-war baby breadcrumb. happy to discuss any of these in greater details//answer any q's about these little snippets. loving our little sleepovers so those will be continuing and interlude requests always open. see you all in my inbox!

tw: miscarriage

One: Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same

Cass was restless on the forest floor. Her sleeping bag wasn’t keeping her warm in the cold German night, the fire merely embers and her heart unsettled.

“John. I’m sorry.” They hadn’t separated in England on the best of terms. She hadn’t meant anything she had said to him. Hadn’t really taken this mission to Berlin just so he could see what it felt like to worry about someone. Had tried to apologize before  she left but hadn’t been able to find the words. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

Her nightmares were plagued with images of planes falling from the sky and parachutes drifting over enemy lands. “No, John, wait!” She couldn’t let him get on that plane. Couldn’t let him get on without knowing she wanted all the things he wanted. A future and a forever. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. I promise.” Cass couldn’t make the nightmares stop. It was the emotions of this assignment and the emotions of learning that she was in love with John Egan. The emotions of realizing one wrong move and he could be gone from her life forever. One wrong move and she could be the one that never made it home to him. “I love you, John. Please. I love you.”

“Almost woke you up last night. You sounded like you were in pain.” They were staking out a compound on the outskirts of Berlin, Cass peering at it through binoculars. “Have something to do with that pilot who looked liked he wanted to kill me for sharing a drink with you?” 

“I’m good, Will. But thanks. Sorry for keeping you up.” The last thing she wanted was to discuss John with him. Yes, John had wanted to kill him. But not just because of the drink they were sharing. 

“For what it’s worth, you’re here because you’re the best. You’ll get home to him.” That was, if she hadn’t burnt it all down.

Two: To Live For The Hope Of It All

It was just the two of them. It was a sunny day and he had taken her to the wildflower field. He was laughing and smiling and she was glowing and blushing. 

“You’re dangerous. Making it so I could get used to this. Want to get used to this,” John whispered as she leaned forward to tuck a flower behind his ear. “How do I look?”

“Like a prince,” she teased. “Very handsome, Major.” He leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. 

“I love you, Cass.” She beamed.

“I love you, too, John.”

It was the laughter of Gale Cleven that had Bucky’s eyes fluttering open. Cass was nowhere to be found. He could hear rain pattering outside. There was nothing warm and loving about the rows of beds that held less and less men every day.

“What’s so funny?” he groaned as he turned towards his friend. 

“I love you, Cass. I love you, I love you, I love you.” John’s cheeks flushed fire engine red and he thought about suffocating himself with the bedsheet. That might be easier. “You actually say it or you still just dreaming about it?”

“Maybe.”

“She say it back?” Gale asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Maybe not.” His friend chuckled. “I’m not rushing her. She shows me how she feels. I don’t need her to say it.” 

“Bucky, if you look at Spook like a lovesick puppy one more time-”

“Thanks, DeMarco, you can go back to sleep now.” A smattering of chuckles echoed. 

“We don’t mind listening to you practice saying ‘I love you,’ Bucky, but if you start practicing loving her there might be some issues,” yelled Curt from the other end. 

“Anyone who knows Bucky knows he needs no practice.” 

“No one makes that fucking joke in front of her, understood?” The last thing John needed was Cass hearing he had slept with the entire nation of Greenland or whatever version of events the men were concocting in their head.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just be sure to invite us to the wedding.” 

“Major has it all planned out in his dream world, boys. Don’t you worry,” Buck joked. Unlike the others, he had truly gotten a sense of the two of them. He had a pretty good idea where it was going. 

“Hell of a woman, Bucky. We are happy for you. All ribbing aside.” Of course Crosby was the one to get sentimental on him. 

“Tell her we say hello at your flower drop in the morning!” A few others chimed in and asked to be included.

“Good night, boys. I love you.” John figured it was better to take the piss than to fight it.

“Name your child after me!”

Three: If There’s One Thing I Am Sure Of, I Am Sure That You Have Always Belonged With Me

In her dreams, everything is as it should be. John is flying but always comes home to her. She travels to the furthest corners of the world and talks to the most intriguing people but she always comes home to him. A home that they have built together and plan to fill with laughter and love. She had cried herself to sleep with tears of frustration too many times to keep track of, the reminder that she had failed echoing constantly. 

“John! John!” She heard her own screams and her chest ached at how they must have sounded to John. At her last glimpse of him trying to reach her. Crawling towards her with his last vestiges of consciousness. It would haunt her the rest of her life. 

“Captain Egan?” She jolted awake and looked around. She didn’t recognize the stark white walls and the rows of empty beds. “We heard you screaming, ma’am. Is everything alright?” Ah, yes. Hospital.

“When can I leave? I’m feeling much better.” 

“You had a miscarriage, Captain. You need to rest a little while longer.” There was that word again. It was all anyone had been whispering about when she woke up hours ago to blood between her legs. 

“I didn’t even know I was pregnant! What I need is to be discharged so I can go back to work.” Cass wanted to point out that without John around, without her husband around, it wasn’t worth being upset about. What she needed was to get him out so they could do it all properly. Do it together.

“It was most likely that very attitude that led to this outcome, Captain.” That was a sentiment she could not bear. That her unwavering dedication to bringing John home might have cost them this. Their most sacred wish. 

“Please don’t say that, Doc.” Cass was held together by sheer determination. The belief that she could figure it all out on her own. That nothing was impossible because she had her head on her shoulders and her wits about her. “I have a plane waiting for me in the next few hours. The most precious thing in the entire world to me waiting on the other end. I need to go.” Just the other day she had been in Wisconsin. Looking at baby photos of John and asking for his mother’s cake recipe and promising his sisters he really was a chivalrous gentleman. She needed the time between now and her arrival in Germany to pretend nothing had happened. Push this entire thing into a box. John could never know.

Four: The World Was Black And White

She watched the men warm their hands by the fire without blinking. There were only a few scattered around the abandoned brick factory and she had found a spot to sit close enough that she still caught waves of heat. Really, she was more focused on the man whose head was in her lap. 

John was sound asleep, her hand smoothing over his hair hypnotically as he breathing evened out and he even cracked out a snore. Cass wasn’t sure when the last time he had slept was. They hadn’t been able to for the past day and a half. Imagined he hadn’t really since he arrived at the camp all those months ago. She was happy to stand guard.

“Cass…Cass, don’t.” She glanced down. His eyes were still closed but the peace was gone from his features. “You can’t be here.” 

“John? John, baby, you’re okay. You’re okay, I’m here.” 

“Not real. Not real.” Cass bit her lip as her eyes began to water ever so slightly. 

“You know, he asked for you in his sleep almost every night.” Gale was watching them. She thinks he looked a little sad. “He spent all day angry and defiant then at night, he just wanted you.” 

“Gale-”

“As soon as you get a chance, you take his hand and you run.” Gale had watched John deteriorate before his eyes. Had watched life breathe back into him when he got a letter from her or on the rare occasion she was able to meet him along the fenceline. Those normally held him over just long enough until the Germans did something to piss him off. 

“Not without you.” Cass wasn’t going to budge on it. There was no chance John would leave Gale behind. No chance she would either. He was family. “You have a wedding to attend.” He smiled.

“Bucky says you two are greedy. Might have a second one.” She smiled the way she always did when someone brought up her future with John. Made her want to wake him up just to kiss him. 

“The first one was perfect. We just want to be able to take our time. Share the moment with the people we love.” Time. The thing they had been chasing this entire war. Cass felt it slipping from her grasp with every step through the German winter. At least, if it all ended, she was with John again.

Five: You Are My Favorite Thought

John was a light sleeper these days. His desire to protect the woman he was wrapped around and the small bump that his palm was placed over leaving him attuned to every creak and groan. 

He had been downstairs making some breakfast when he had heard her scream upstairs. John had scaled the staircase in two strides and skidded to a stop in front of their bedroom to find her pensively looking in the mirror. 

“Spook, everything good?”

“Better than good. I popped!” His brow furrowed as he padded over to her gently. “Look.” She turned to the side and the sight spread a warmth through his chest. There was most certainly a bump. Yesterday, it hadn’t been there but today it was. A baby. 

“Looks like we’re having a baby.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around so his hand rested on top of her’s over the bump. He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “You happy?” Her initial reaction had been one of excitement but now, watching her in the mirror, her eyes were drifting to a far away place.

“Of course. It’s what we’ve always wanted. What kept me going when…” Sometimes, she still had trouble talking about Europe and all the things they had gone through. “It’s just a little overwhelming.” He twisted his fingers between hers and squeezed gently. 

“That’s why you got me. Tell me how much you love my broad shoulders all the time. They can handle whatever you need them to.” But Cass wasn’t sure if they could handle her betrayal.

His gut was telling him something was wrong as she moved in her sleep to rest her head on his chest. That something inside of her was eating her up. That he wanted to fix it but he couldn’t until she told him what it was.

“John?” She was awake, her eyes filled with emotion as she looked up at him. In her heart, she felt like he knew. Like she shouldn’t have to tell him, he should be able to understand without words. But it wasn’t far to him or to their child. The one they had lost or the one they were preparing for. 

“You can tell me anything, Cass.” No matter what it was, they would work through. They had seen each other at their lowest and knew who each other was at their core. Nothing could ever change the love he had for her. The love he had for the life they had created. 

“I’ve been keeping something from you. Something awful.”

[pt2change]

it’s definitely you — kim taehyung

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre/warning: angst, sad oc, pinch of fluff, happy ending

a/n: hi! fyi if this seems familiar, i posted this before on here an a separate account before i deleted it. okay anyways continue :)

word count: 1k+

↣ bts masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

the bed felt unnaturally empty. you spent hours tossing and turning, trying so hard to get comfortable to sleep. and no matter how many times you closed your eyes, relaxed into your sheets, laying with no thoughts, your mind always came back to him.

you sighed and sat back up, running your hand through your hair. it was absolutely pointless to just continue lying there. and you couldn’t go back to sleep now that he has consumed your mind. you stood up and began pacing around the room.

but, everwhere you looked, there was photos of the two of you. on your dresser, the nightstand, you even kept a small photo of the two of you in your phone case. none of these pictures could fufill the ache you felt inside.

leaving the room wasn’t helpful, especially not when the living room and kitchen contained so many of his things. his favorite blue hoodie on the back of the couch, his growing collection of art supplies in the corner of the living room, the row of his different favorite drinks in the fridge. even the air in your apartment smelled of his cologne.

you put your head in your hands, struggling to keep yourself together. it has only been just little over a week since he left, and you were dying inside.

after a few seconds, you picked your head up, straightened your shoulders, and walked into your kitchen.

you decided to warm up a small cup of your favorite tea in hopes of being able to fall asleep. when your tea was ready, you walked into the living, taking small sips.

as you sat on the couch, you reminisced on the nights he did this for you when you weren’t feeling good and having trouble falling asleep.

you could feel his hands as they caressed your face smoothly and moved your hair away from your face.

you felt a lump in your throat and your eyes began to fill with tears. you set your glass of tea on the small coffee table, no longer having the stomach to finish it.

you curled up into the corner of the couch, grabbing his blue hoodie, and slipping it on. letting out a sigh, you layed on the couch.

you didn’t think it would be this hard to be away from taehyung, but the aching pain your chest grew more and more as the minutes and seconds passed.

but it wasn’t like taehyung wanted to leave. it was the quiet opposite actually, he had no choice.

if he didn’t go, it would’ve messed everything up.

and you knew that. but you weren’t selfish enough to be the one to stop him from achieving one of his dreams. all you ever wanted was for him to be happy.

but all you could think about was his voice, the way his arms wrapped around you, the gentle touch of his lips against your own.

you loved everything about him. absolutely everything.

and you wouldn’t be able to see him for a couple months.

your phone went off suddenly, and you quickly sat up to reach it. one glance at the name on the screen made your stomach feel so many butterflies, and you pressed the green button.

“hello?” you whispered, your voice almost shaking.

“hi y/n.”

and you felt tears slowly run down your cheeks, it had been so long since you heard his voice.

“hey, don’t cry.” taehyung said, his voice soft, hearing you sniffle through the other end. “baby, please don’t cry.”

“i’m sorry.” you stammered, “i just miss you s-so much.”

“i know, i miss you too.” taehyung replied with a tender voice, “but i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you nodded, “okay.” you sniffled, holding back what you really wanted to say.

i miss you. i don’t want to be selfish, but i need you now. not in a few months. when are you coming home?

i love you.

you stayed on the phone, talking about other things for little over an hour. you said goodbye and hung up, without telling him how you felt and how much he means to you.

after all, you and taehyung hadn’t been dating for so long. and you’re terrified you’ll scare him away by telling him you love him.

but immediately after hanging up, you regretted not telling him. you couldn’t help but think that if something happens to him, he would never know just how much he meant to you.

working up the courage to tell him, you began to reach for your phone. but in that moment, the doorbell rang.

you sat up, confused. you couldn’t think of anyone who would show up at your door this late.

then, the doorbell rang again. scurrying to the small hall way closet, you got out a bat you kept as a precaution.

you approached the door, gripping the bat tightly in one hand. you unlocked your locks, turned the door knob, and opened the door.

not even a second later, the bat hit the floor, and began to roll away.

you were in complete shock, staring at the man in front of you in complete disbelief.

“hi baby.” he greeted you with his boxy smile.

you could feel the tears filling up in your eyes again. you leaped into taehyung’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his arms around your waist.

you clung onto him tightly, one hand on the back of his neck, and the other on the back of his head.

and he held onto you just as tightly, burying his face into your neck.

“i missed this too.” he quietly whispered into your ear.

you pulled back to look at him, a few tears rolling down your face. “how?”

“come on. did you really think i could stay away from you for that long?” he asked, leaning down pressing his forehead to yours with a smile.

and you felt such a wave of affection run through your body. and just as you opened your mouth, it wasn’t your own voice that you heard.

“i love you, y/n.”