#story is mostly planned out and ready to be written

[askfallenroyalty]

Not that I needed a NEW project to work on but... Here's my Underfell take. Let's see where this goes.

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

[speakergame]

Progress Report - 12/25/24

Hello and happy holidays!

It’s been a while, huh? 😅 my apologies for disappearing on you all. Long story short, I had a severe case of tendonitis in my shoulder, and have spent the last few months heavily restricted in my ability to type or do pretty much anything on the computer. And since I’m left-handed, and it was my left shoulder, writing the old fashioned way wasn’t much of an option either. It’s been absolute hell for me, to put it lightly.

I’ve finally recovered enough to be able to get back to work… slowly. More slowly than I’d like, honestly, but it is what it is. I’m trying my best not to overdo it and set my healing back. It’s easier said than done.

Besides the speed, however, work is actually going really well! Well enough that I have the next update very nearly ready to go. I have a really bad, game-breaking bug lurking somewhere in my code that I’m trying to unravel, but once I’ve found and squashed it, I’ll be able to roll the update out to patreon 😁

Beyond that, I also have a couple mini-stories planned (akin to the Spooktacular from a couple years back), the first of which is written and mostly-coded. I wanted to have it ready earlier this month, but again, work is slower than I want it to be. In addition, I want to roll out an updated version of the Idle Hands prologue/demo to my lovely and infinitely patient patrons, and I really hope to finally, finally release the first episode of Partially Stars.

Most of all, I hope to start being more active again on tumblr and to stop disappearing for months at a time. That’s my number 1 goal for 2025.

So that’s everything I’ve got for y’all for now! I’m gonna go back to fumigating my code so I can kill this bug, and with luck I’ll have something fun for you all very soon.

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, happy Wednesday to those who don’t, and a Happy New Year to everyone. Enjoy the liminal week remaining until 2025, I love you all, and thank you as always for reading 💙💙💙

[trustmypoison]

SVT when their partner experiences misogyny/sexism

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘i love your posts! can i get seventeen helping their partner when they experience misogyny/sexism of some kind? (or discrimination in general if you wanna go broader) like noticing a femme partner being treated harsher than her masc peers, being labeled 'bitchy' for standing up for themself, or even being not believed by medical professionals?’

A/N: This is written in the context of workplace sexism. For the sake of this reaction, assume that reader is having trouble getting along with a male coworker who is demeaning and disrespectful.

A/N #2: this was scheduled to go out in a few days but I moved it up because it’s too relatable to me today. 🤡

Ready to fight - Seungcheol, Jun, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Seungkwan When you say that a male coworker was pretty demeaning during a meeting today, his eyes flare and he’s asking for a name and address. Will get increasingly angry as you tell the story and really insists that he’ll stop by to have a little chat tomorrow. It absolutely does not compute for him when you say that that would defeat the purpose if your boyfriend comes to your defense, mostly because he wants to defend you, even if you don’t need it. If you insist that it won’t do any good, he’ll let it go and just let you vent. For now. But trust that if he ever meets this person, he’ll be incredibly passive aggressive and particularly doting about any of your achievements.

Tries to coach you through how to deal with it - Jeonghan, Woozi, Minghao Oh, don’t get me wrong, they’re pissed. They do not like that you’re being mistreated simply for being a woman. So when you tell them that you’re having a difficult time with one of your male coworkers always questioning your decisions as team lead, he’s borderline maniacal about planning revenge. If this coworker tells a gross joke, he wants you to ask them to explain it in front of everyone. If this coworker cuts you off in a meeting, you wait until he stops talking and simply say ‘I wasn’t done talking’ and move on with what you were saying. He encourages you to pick apart this coworker’s ideas just as much as he picks apart yours. If you have any reservations about doing this because you’re afraid you’ll seem like a bitch, he’ll insist that you aren’t a bitch for sticking up for yourself.

Does his best to comfort you - Joshua, Hoshi, DK, Vernon, Chan For the life of him, he cannot wrap his head around how someone could be demeaning to you. You’re so smart and talented and kind and hardworking… and the list goes on. He cannot understand why one of your male coworkers isn’t getting that. If you come home upset about it, he’ll tell you all of this and more. That you have your position for a reason and that’s because you’re good at what you do. And that he must just be self-conscious of his own abilities in his role. Or that it’s totally unreasonable for this coworker to not like women that don’t need men to support or guide them. Won’t be passive aggressive exactly, but if he ever meets this guy, he’ll make sure your coworker knows how proud he is of you and your achievements and how loved you are.

[satori-runa]

—Ties that bind

Summary: Your coworker turns into your boyfriend and soon enough decides to change that as well.

Tags: Established Relationship mostly, fluff, romance, slight angst

Words: 1k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You never expected your relationship with Leon Scott Kennedy to be anything special.

In fact, it started off as something messy and fragile. He had just come out of a rough breakup, left by his girlfriend when he made the move to Raccoon City. He was hurt and lost, but you were there, the sweet receptionist who always knew when he needed a pick-me-up. Your smile and kind gestures were a balm for his bruised heart.

Leon wasn’t typically a coffee drinker—the bitterness was something he normally avoided like the plague. But when you started bringing him a cup during his busiest hours, he found himself sipping it anyway. Your coffee was somehow different, sweeter, just like you. He could never bring himself to turn down something you made just for him, so he kept drinking it, even if it wasn’t his usual choice.

He finally gathered the courage to strike up a real conversation with you during one of those busy days. He fiddled nervously with his pen, glancing at the freshly brewed coffee you left on his desk. "Do you usually drink coffee?" he stammered out, wincing internally at how awkward he sounded.

You smiled, launching into a story about a small café you frequented that had the perfect blend. He listened intently, eyes wide in surprise when you casually invited him to visit it with you sometime. That’s how your first date happened: in a cozy vintage café filled with the smell of fresh coffee and old books. It felt right sitting there with him, sharing stories and laughter. Despite the chaos in Leon’s life, you clicked instantly. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he could start looking forward instead of lingering on the past.

Soon enough, you found yourself spending more time at his apartment than your own. It was full of little pieces of you now: the plushie he won for you at the carnival, a matching mug for your morning coffee sessions. His space felt cozier with your things in it, and Leon loved it. He cherished the way his home had become a reflection of the two of you together.

But lately, something felt off. Leon had become distant—no messages, no calls, not even a quick voice note. He hadn’t mentioned any trips or special missions at work, so you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe he just needed some space after a tough week, you told yourself, but that didn’t stop the gnawing ache in your chest. You decided to visit him at work, only to hear from his colleagues that he was fine, business as usual. Yet, the coffee you left for him the previous day sat untouched and cold, the sweet note you’d attached to it now crumpled on the floor. It stung.

Your heart sank even further when you found a note on your desk, written in Leon’s familiar scrawled handwriting: Come over tonight. No explanation, no hint of what was going on. It felt like a breakup note. You spent the entire day with a heavy weight in your chest, trying to prepare yourself for the worst.

Leon, on the other hand, had no idea. He’d left work early, practically racing home to get everything ready. He had been planning a surprise for days, avoiding you so he wouldn’t spoil it. He was a bit clueless, sure, but his intentions were pure. He wanted everything to be perfect.

When you knocked on his door that evening, you could barely keep it together. Your eyes were red and puffy, tears streaming down your face as you gripped your bag tightly. The second Leon saw you, his face fell. He didn’t understand why you looked so heartbroken. “If you’re going to break up with me, just make it quick,” you choked out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Panic shot through Leon like a jolt of electricity. Without thinking, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close and cradling your head against his chest. “Honey, no,” he whispered, his voice thick with desperation. “Shh, please. I would never break up with you.”

You pushed back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “Then why haven’t I heard from you in three days, Leon? I thought you were avoiding me.”

He froze, realization dawning on him. “Three days?” He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. Between work and his secret planning, he’d lost track completely. “I’m so sorry, sunshine,” he murmured, brushing a tear away with his thumb. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging like that. I was just... I was planning something. I promise it wasn’t on purpose.”

You blinked in confusion, but before you could respond, he gently took your hand and led you inside. The hallway was decorated with the picture frames you had helped him put up, little snapshots of happy memories. He guided you to the living room, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting a warm light over the coffee table. On it, he had set out your favorite snacks, the matching mugs filled with steaming coffee, and a photo album. But it was the small velvet box placed delicately on top that made your breath catch in your throat.

Leon turned to you, his expression soft and full of love. “How could I ever leave the woman I want to marry?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, tears welling up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of joy. He wasn’t pulling away; he was pulling you closer than ever. The realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help but laugh, even as you cried.

Leon stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. “I’m sorry I made you worry,” he murmured. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted it to be perfect.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. “You’re an idiot, Leon,” you said, but there was no anger in your voice, only relief and love.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know,” he agreed. “But I’m your idiot.”

[darsynia]

Forgiven: Candor | CEO Steve/f!Reader series part 2

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Your first lunch date with your company’s CEO-turned-construction-hottie has netted you an invitation to a fancy gala. You’re falling head over budget heels for this guy, but getting to know him turns out to be more charming and more complicated than you expected. Words/Warnings: 2,900 / none

Written for @buck-star's Fluffy Winter Event with the prompt CEO, a sequel to the 'Ro Roll' story Forgiven. A third story in the series is mostly written (and smutty). gif by @tay-swifts

Quick note: this one's less of a romp than the first, but I'd say where the first fic is about physical attraction, this is about emotional attraction--and part III is both!

Excerpt:

Tonight’s plan is unconventional. The gala he’s invited you to is the last event of a conference for tech companies, and he was one of the keynote speakers for their final wrap-up. Rogers told you he couldn’t miss the networking for the ninety minutes between that and the start of the gala, so you’ll be arriving separately.

Honestly, if it were anyone else, you’d have tried to beg off. You’ll have to show up dressed to the sevens (the nines are way beyond your price range) and find him in a sea of very important people and other hangers-on. It’s a recipe for a fairy tale either way--either you’ll see each other across a crowded room or someone’s rich stepsister will cut you to verbal shreds. The only way to make that image to go away is picturing Rogers acting like a storybook hero vanquishing all your villains. 

Candor

Sharing a meal with Steve Rogers feels like it shouldn’t be this easy. 

It helps that you’d passed a vintage movie theater playing The Mark of Zorro from 1940 on your way to the deli. You’d expressed surprise that the franchise started that long ago, prompting a discussion about the notable parts of each version the other hadn’t seen (Rogers: Just her hair left to cover everything?!). Now you’re both sharing anecdotes from your late teens over some seriously delicious sandwiches, him telling you about his co-founder Barnes, and you sharing about growing up with your sister Jennie. 

Rogers’ easygoing charisma makes it far too easy to forget that he actually runs the company you work for, especially when he’s laughing. It’s only when he holds out a hand to interrupt the story of your sister’s first catastrophic job interview that his business side kicks in.

The counter is only a few feet away from your table, and he leans over, intently listening. That’s when you hear it-- the soft, frightened voice of a young woman defending herself against a furious male voice.

Rogers shoots to his feet, striding over with the remaining bites of his sandwich in his hand. The manager steps over right away, his frown fading away when he sees the tall, well-dressed man at the counter.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I want you to observe OSHA standards, to say nothing of human decency,” Rogers says evenly. The manager presses his hands together in a blatantly fawning apology, but it’s too late. In an ever-increasing tone, your lunch companion lists out three different violations. At least one customer leaves nervously before Rogers adds a strong suggestion that the manager treat his young female employees with more respect. “I have rarely seen the same employee more than twice in the two months you’ve been open, and I hope for your sake it’s because they know their rights,” he says sternly. “Your food is good. Your management is going to run the place into the ground.”

There’s something about his voice of command that completely stomps the manager’s bravado. Seconds later, the employee who’d been yelled at comes out of the back room with a light jacket on and a purse, her face blotchy from crying. You offer her a tissue from your bag and clean up the rest of the table, which works out well when Rogers steps close and asks if you’re ready to head out. Once outside, he spots the young woman walking nearby.

“Give me a second,” he tells you, jogging over to her before she can cross the street. They have a short exchange while you wait, and you can see him give the woman a business card.

When Rogers comes back, you’re both quiet until he opens his car door for you and settles in on his side.

“That was a good thing you did.”

Rogers sighs. “I try not to throw my weight around. I’ve been watching conditions there deteriorate for weeks, and I guess that was the last straw.”

“You offered her a job, didn’t you?”

He turns and smiles, and the brightness of it reminds you of the way sunlight spills into the lobby at Star Industries.

“You’re going to spill that all down the front of you!” Marcia frets as you wobble your way to the door after work. The takeout container you’re precariously balancing is your peace offering to your sister, since you have a date on Couch Potato Movie Night.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be wearing this for long!” you say in an attempt to reassure your coworker.

“TMI!” the older woman says, playfully putting her hands over her ears.

“No, no no no--” The words cut off as you nearly bobble the styrofoam in a bid to whirl around in protest. “Doesn’t everyone change into comfy clothes after work? See you tomorrow!” 

It’s a total obfuscation, but Marcia isn’t able to object before you escape through the rotating doors. 

You won’t actually be wearing ‘comfy clothes,’ mostly because the black ensemble you’re planning to wear on your date has more exposed back than anything you’d ever worn in public before. The truth is, you look and feel great in it-- but comfy it is not. You haven’t worn it in a while (barring the try-on you did two days ago), and you’re already looking forward to the way the skirt flutters around your ankles. Its style is as close to the red dress from Only You as you could find, and you’re pretty sure Marisa Tomei would approve.

You’re hoping Steve Rogers approves, too.

Tonight’s plan is unconventional. The gala he’s invited you to is the last event of a conference for tech companies, and he was one of the keynote speakers for their final wrap-up. Rogers told you he couldn’t miss the networking for the ninety minutes between that and the start of the gala, so you’ll be arriving separately.

Honestly, if it were anyone else, you’d have tried to beg off. You’ll have to show up dressed to the sevens (the nines are way beyond your price range) and find him in a sea of very important people and other hangers-on. It’s a recipe for a fairy tale either way--either you’ll see each other across a crowded room or someone’s rich stepsister will cut you to verbal shreds. The only way to make that image to go away is picturing Rogers acting like a storybook hero vanquishing all your villains. 

You exit your taxi a block away from the venue, amused and diverted by the mental image of your CEO date wearing medieval armor and wielding a sword and shield. The night is warm for early fall, with a light breeze that pleasingly swirls around your skirt and filmy shoulder wrap. You’re left wishing you could wander through Central Park with him, looking at the first leaf changes instead of feeling out of place at the event.

As you walk, you ponder what a modern-day heroic Steve Rogers would look like. This version can definitely wield his power like a weapon, offering that young deli worker a better job or calling on his fellow manufacturers to use more sustainable materials, something Star Industries recently made news for. You’re preoccupied in coming up with a shield analogue for him when you approach your destination.

“Excuse me, miss?” a familiar-sounding voice says. You lift your head to see that it’s Rogers.

“Oh! I didn’t at all expect you to meet me out--”

“I couldn’t take it in there anymore. Place is full of opportunists who think I’m naive for not taking more advantage of our disabled clients,” he says roughly, stripping off his suit jacket as he speaks. “It seems they thought I was faking nice for the past few years. I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“You could never be disappointing!” The words come out before you can vet them, but even if you had, you’d have said them anyway. He throws his blazer over his arm and looks at you with what you can only describe as professional exhaustion. You suspect more went on in that conference than he’s willing to say, and that makes you want to be more honest with him, for some reason. “There were two things going on in my mind on my way over here, would you like to hear them?”

His tone is guarded. “All right.”

“First I was picturing you as a kind of medieval warrior on a mission to fight the kind of villains you just described--”

“No pressure or anything,” Rogers murmurs. 

“The other thing was wishing that I could take a walk with you through Central Park. The leaves are starting to change, there’s a nice breeze--what do you think?”

“I think you shouldn’t lift me up as some kind of hero,” he finally says, “--but I would very much like that.” Rogers holds out his arm for you, not unlike the way you pictured him leading you around the gala. 

As you take it, you decide to go ahead and say, “What would Barnes say about whether you’re a hero?”

“He’d call me a punk with delusions of grandeur, but he’s the one who turned down the position of CEO,” Rogers says, but though his tone is amused, his expression doesn’t really show it.

It’s information you’re not sure is even public, so you focus on keeping up with his big strides as you make your way to the Park. Everything about his body language tells you that there’s a lot going on under the surface, that he might be close to coming unraveled. There’s no good way to say, ‘it’s okay to be quiet if you need to be.’ All you can do is stay quiet and hope he feels supported. The resulting silence isn’t comfortable, but it’s not awkward either--and after what he’d said about the population of the party he left behind, the twilight beauty of the park has to be an improvement.

A gust of wind finally changes the contemplative mood when it blows your shoulder wrap up onto his chest and into his face.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” you rush to say, fighting with the thing to make it stay put. Through your fussing, he stands with his hands out, a small smile haunting his face. It’s the first one you’ve seen from him today, and you decide to comment on it to test the waters. “I can’t help but be nosy and notice you don’t seem much like yourself tonight.”

Rogers’ body language closes up and his facial expression tightens, but he nods. “I’ve had to button up for the conference. I guess it’s just harder to shrug it off, tonight.”

It suddenly occurs to you that you don’t really know him very well, and you’ve walked yourself into a semi-private section of the park with him, at night. At the same time, you still recognize the man you ogled as he sweated and worked in the foyer of his own building as ‘just one of the guys.’ 

Hadn’t you hated a job so much your sister said it ate you alive?

“I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to hold a position at your level,” you say, in the world’s greatest understatement, “What I do know is that you made a decision to protect me from having to deal with something that clearly made you miserable. It sounds like those people were judging you as a bad leader because you want what’s best for your company and its clients. For the record, I think standing up against that is plenty heroic.”

Rogers looks down at his feet for a second, letting out a quick breath before meeting your eyes again, this time with a wistful kind of smile on his face. “It’s nice to know there are people who still see that kind of idealism in me. Thank you.”

“That’s the most polite ‘I disagree’ I think I’ve ever heard,” you retort. “Just to pile on, I also get the impression that you lied to me earlier.”

Now you have his full attention, blue eyes capturing yours with a laser focus you imagine is even more intimidating to a direct subordinate. “Oh?” Clipped, doubtful.

You could love this man, but you have the distinct feeling that he’s having some sort of crisis you’re not privy to. As such, you could be helping here, or you could be making it very easy to leave you on the curb needing a new job.

He’s worth the try.

“You said Barnes turned down CEO. I think you took the job so he didn’t have to.”

The two of you look at each other steadily for a long minute, the tension of your possible mistake ramping up inside you until he strides over, nearly chest to chest.

“You’re right,” he says, almost breathless. He lifts his hand as if to touch your face, his eyebrows quirking up in a silent question. You nod, captivated by the battle he’s clearly fighting with himself. You hope you’ve earned the faith you can see reflected in his eyes.

He slides his fingertips along your cheek and into your hairline with the kind of gentleness a girl can only dream of, and then he kisses you, stealing away all other conscious thought. You sway forward, catching yourself on his chest and then clutching at his lapel when he angles his head. His lips are reverent but hungry, just on the edge of desperate, and as it goes on, your heart spirals away toward the abyss of yes, please, forever.

When he lifts his head, he’s finally smiling in a way you recognize, and holy shit it feels so much like a triumph that you’re probably in big trouble with this guy.

“How about a do-over?” he asks, offering you his arm again. The happiness in his eyes makes you impish.

“Of the kiss, or…”

With both hands framing your face, Steve takes thirty seconds to methodically ruin you for every other man on the planet. Afterwards, he bends down to pick up his jacket from the ground, slings it over his arm like nothing momentous has just happened, and then holds his other arm out just as he’d done earlier in the night.

“You’re an overachiever, you know that, right?” you say, taking his arm. He’s a few other things, but you feel certain there will be time to work on those.

“It’s chronic,” he says. “Shall we?”

The next half hour goes exactly as you’d originally pictured when you walked past the park the first time. Easy conversation, beautiful surroundings, and more sparks flying between you than a welder’s convention. He calls ahead for a car to meet up at a specific corner, and you end up having to borrow his suit jacket by the time you get there. He makes you promise to call him ‘Steve’ before he hands it over.

“Thank you for a perfect evening,” you whisper to him after he gets in the back seat with you. “For your sake I’ll try to remember the best parts, so I can recreate them when I wake up and it’s this morning again.”

“Does that mean you’ll meet me at the same time tomorrow, in that dress, so I can take you to dinner?”

Even your swoons are swooning. You manage to say, “I could never say no to an invitation that smooth!” 

Steve reaches over and squeezes your hand. “You can always say no. It’s important to me for you to know that.”

He sounds so serious that you pull your joined hands up to briefly kiss the back of his. “There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” As you say this, your conscience stabs you. Hadn’t you dreamed of a rich man to sweep you off your feet? Would he feel betrayed by that??

“Don’t worry about that. Just know I was starting to feel… How do I put it,” Steve says, sweeping his thumb across the back of your hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way--”

“I’m not going to steal Willy Wonka’s secrets, so you can forget about asking,” you quip.

Steve throws back his head in laughter, his hand tightening on yours almost painfully before he lets go. “I was starting to forget what it was like not to be surrounded by people who want something, even if all they want is to say ‘yes.’ That’s one of the few things money can’t buy.”

“Observation changes the results--or in this case, money does,” you say, nodding. “Well, I’m going to take that as a compliment.” The car stops, and for the first time after a long day, you are disappointed to see you’re in front of your apartment.

He unbuckles and leans over to give you a brief but searing kiss. “It’s a compliment.” 

Steve gets out of the car, and for a brief moment you’re confused until he opens your door like a gentleman. It’s impossible not to be charmed. Once he’s helped you out and onto the sidewalk, you wish you could keep his suit jacket, if only so you can use it to prove none of this was a dream. 

“See you tomorrow?” he asks, then says, “Wait. I know you just well enough to suspect you want to prove you’ll say no to me.” You burst out laughing and nod. “All right then: do you want to stay home tomorrow?”

You grin. “No.”

“Good. Let’s push back by an hour, for a better reservation. Seven?”

“Yes.”

“See you then.”

Because your life is not a romance novel but a comedy, you walk in the door of your apartment two hours earlier than promised, your stomach growling in outraged hunger.

“What are you doing home already? Was that your stomach? Didn’t you eat?” your sister asks as you take your shoes off. “Well?” Jennie demands, when you silently head toward the kitchen to warm up some leftovers. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she realizes aloud.

“No,” you tell her, an indelible grin on your face.

<- Previous ||||| Next ->

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Silver-tongued Lover

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo . I do miss writing for Loki. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story!

Pairing: Loki x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ strictly smut, bit of choking and hair pulling.

Word count: 1.9k +

Square filled: Dominant lover & Pulled onto their lap

Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist

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Trays of exquisite champagne and hors d'oeuvres were being passed around, an air of general merriment floated in the huge ballroom that was filled with the who’s who of the society. The party was in honor of yet another successful mission carried out by the Avengers, it was also just an excuse to get together, wear fancy clothes and mingle.

You certainly weren’t complaining.

Not when you had a wicked plan brewing in your mind about teaching a certain silver-tongued lover of yours a lesson. Or get him to teach you one. Either way, you were winning. That little spat you had earlier would be forgotten the moment he would lay eyes on you.

The dress you chose for the event was particular, forest green satin that fell over your curves, accentuating them in all the right ways while exposing just the right amount of skin. Underneath you wore matching lace lingerie, one you hoped would end up on your bedroom floor by the end of the night. Your hair fell down your back in loose curls, curtaining what was mostly a backless gown.

Everybody gathered where Tony Stark was making his famous speech, entertaining the crowd and making them laugh at his anecdotes. Blending with the crowd, you felt his presence before his cool, slender hand slipped around your waist, his lips pressed against your ear.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, my lady.”

That voice. You were never getting immune to that, you had to accept it. The honey-dripping voice that could bring anybody down on their knees. A shiver went down your spine as he teased the shell of your ear ever so lightly with his tongue, smirking to himself.

“I mean, it’s the dress, isn’t it?” you teased, composing yourself enough to bring your hair over one shoulder, showing off the sexy, open back of the dress. It was your turn to smirk now that his sapphire eyes had darkened. Like a brooding storm on gray night. Instinctively, he covered you to avoid unwanted prying eyes. He wouldn’t want any other man besides himself to lay eyes on what was his and his alone.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered, his grip on your waist tightening while you blinked up innocently.

“Enjoying the party, that’s all.” you murmured before walking away from the demi-God, adding an extra swing to your hips as you did, knowing he was watching you.

Weeks ago you had walked in on Loki working his charm over an intern to get information he needed, he had the nerve to brush it off simply by stating he had the gift of the gab and you were overreacting. Tonight you were prepared to show him what an overreaction truly was.

As the evening drew by you found yourself surrounded by men who weren’t subtle with their eyes, letting their gaze shamelessly drop to your cleavage as you chatted. From the corner of your eye, you found Loki glowering, ready to rip the men into shreds.

Around midnight, people found themselves sitting around the tables, conversations now turned into smaller groups.

“Ah there you are, Y/N! Do join us.” Thor’s baritone boomed over from one of the tables, offering you a kind smile as he sat opposite your favorite God of Mischief who looked over his shoulder, as if challenging you to join them.

Naturally, you had to.

Loki pulled you onto his lap just as you were about to pull a chair for yourself, securing you on one thigh with your legs on either side. You knew it was a deliberate move, he now had easy access to your heated core, one little brush and he’d know you were sans underwear.

“Might I say you look beautiful tonight, Lady Y/N.” Thor smiled at you, raising his glass in toast which you reciprocated.

“Loki, you’re awfully quiet today. Anything on your mind, brother?”

Clicking his tongue, Loki shifted underneath you, his slender fingers teasing the edge of the glass of mead he was having before picking it up.

“Not particularly. Lady Y/N might have an idea, although she spent half the evening conversing with other gentlemen.” His tone held light accusation, eyes holding a darkness that stirred something carnal within you.

“Ah! Green with jealousy.” Thor chuckled at his own joke drunkenly, going on about how trust is such an important factor in any relationship; meanwhile your little eye tennis match with Loki continued, each challenging the other to make the next move.

Shifting a little, you made sure to brush your core against his thigh, allowing a little gasp to leave your lips as it brushed against your clit ever so slightly. A smirk on your face grew wider as Loki’s fingers soon discovered your little secret, his eyes darkening further before he abruptly stood, taking you with him.

Without much as an excuse, he gripped your bicep and dragged you away from the party and towards the elevators. Once he had you caged between his arms, he didn’t mince his words as you’d awoken the monster that rested within him.

“What do you think you are playing at, pet?”

His breath was hot against your own, his face mere inches from yours, eyes boring into yours for answers.

“I don’t know what you mean..”

Wrong answer. That made him tug on your hair, gently but with enough force to elicit a gasp. With a knee wedged between your legs, Loki made sure to tease your core that was covered only by the thin fabric of your dress, all while the elevator traveled up to take you to your quarters.

“You are testing my patience, aren’t you love?”

Boldly, your hands found their way around his neck as you stood on your toes, lips reaching his ears to whisper the answer he was waiting for.

“I got what I wanted. You. Jealous.”

He released a breath against your cheek, chuckling upon hearing your words as the elevator promptly dinged to a halt. Straightening his robes, Loki stepped away from you and began taking long strides towards your shared room, leaving you no option but to follow.

His intentions were pretty clear when the doors were shut. To teach you a lesson.

Like a predator stalking its prey, he took deliberate steps towards you, eyes raking your form.

“Kneel.”

Even if you had planned to defy the demi-God earlier, you knew well enough to not do it after hearing that from him. Dropping to your knees with your hands on your thighs, you waited, pulse quickening as you heard him undo his pants, freeing his semi-hard length for you.

“You know what happens to pets who disobey?” Loki’s sultry voice sent tingles down your spine, a rush of excitement gathering between your legs as you looked up at him, shaking your head even though you knew the answer to that question.

His fingers traced the side of your face, ever so tenderly, admiring you at his mercy before he made you open your mouth and guided you towards his cock.

“Allow me to show you.”

Not that you assumed he’d be gentle, but as his length met with your warm mouth, Loki’s grip on your hair tightened and he bottomed out with a satisfied grunt.

With only a second to adjust, he began driving his hips back and forth, nudging the end of your throat with his sizeable length, until you gagged.

“You willingly chose to defy me. Allowed all those vile men to ogle at what’s mine.”

But you were being taught a lesson, so when your eyes met through your lashes, you saw a villainous glint that informed you that you were in for a long night.

Tears gathered in your eyes as he continued to drive his now hard cock in and out, the salty taste of precum evident on your tongue. It was torture but you endured, being rewarded with the most sinful grunts that reached your ears ever so often.

Abruptly, Loki pulled out, making you stand before pushing you against a wall.

“You played with fire today, pet.” He growled, invading your senses with all that was him once again.

“Only because I knew the fire liked to be played with.”

Your eyes flashed a hint of mischief, one you were certain he loved, but tonight wasn’t the night for it. This time your expensive dress bore the cost of your words. It was ripped until all of your legs were exposed to him.

“Another bad decision.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

Now semi-naked and vulnerable, Loki pushed your legs apart before snaking his hand between them to run his thumb along your slit. When he was met with your glistening arousal, he smirked.

“Look at you, soaked and yearning for me, my darling.”

That was his first term of endearment for you, you smiled to yourself before your mouth fell open; having Loki’s cool, slender fingers breach your entrance without warning came out in a soft gasp.

He pulled them out just as quickly as he had pushed in, feeding them to you where you could taste your eagerness.

Hiking your leg up around his hips, he entered you in one swift motion, forehead touching yours as you both sighed. The room was then filled with your needy moans as Loki’s cock dragged on your walls only to impale you until he was buried to the hilt. The continued assault made you cry out loud as your fingers dug in his shoulders, desperate for an anchor.

With your eyes shut in pleasure, you felt the fingers of his free hand wrap themselves around your throat, putting just enough pressure to add to the delectable passion unfurling between you.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

He grunted between his bruising thrusts, each one sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

“You. I belong to you, my prince.” You breathed, sounding needier than usual. You didn’t want this to end, the lesson you were being taught felt like a reward.

Your walls began clamping around his length, making him twitch and groan as his lips descended towards your neck, claiming your body as his property.

Carrying you to bed, he laid you down, a little gently this time, cock slipping into your tight heat once again as he pinned your hands above your head, holding you captive. This time, his pace resumed the same brutality, your climax approaching hard and fast as he continued.

Reveling in the way your skin bloomed and flushed under his touch, Loki’s sense of dominance only grew. He’d never admit but he secretly loved the way you defied him in your ways and challenged him, it only always led to stimulating arguments and explosive sex.

The way you fell apart under him only drove him to chase his own release, his cock had been begging for it since he laid eyes on you that evening.

A few moments later while you basked in your high, his hips lost rhythm and he spilled his seed deep within your sopping cunt.

As breaths came slowed down to a normal pace, Loki found himself grinning against your warm skin, finally enveloping you in a kiss that conveyed all that words could never.

[dreamofbetterthings]

No Regrets Noah Sebastian x Reader

Prompt: "The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop."

VIP: Noah Sebastian

Band: Ban Omens

Summary: There's no such thing as a "calm" Halloween night, especially when hidden feelings are involved.

Warnings: It's gonna be a little spicy, but not full-on smut. Still, this is 18+ due to descriptive language and some curse words scattered about, so minors, please DNI. 

A/N

Hello everybody! I'm sorry that I dropped off the face of the Earth. I have an abundance of things going on in my personal life and I am trying my hardest to get through it all. I know in the last post I said chapter 3 of It's Been A Long, Long Time was coming soon. That wasn't a lie. It is still in the process of being edited. I'm working on a new uploading schedule for you guys, and a page redesign as well so if everything pans out the way I'm hoping, it will be put into effect starting next week. In the meantime, I have a couple of stories I'm planning on getting out before Chapter 3 gets released. This turned out a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, but I had an idea and ran with it. I've never written for Bad Omens before, so let me know what you think. Enjoy!

This is a fictional story about real-life people. Nothing that is mentioned in the story below represents who said individuals are, or how they act in real life.

Halloween night was always your favorite time to be around certain people, specifically the friends you called Motionless in White and Bad Omens. There was always something up their sleeve to turn the normal night into one that you weren't sure you wanted to remember in the morning. Luckily, tonight was the annual hangout at Chris' house this year, and you couldn't be more excited. Every year you all would get together at someone's house and pass out candy to the kids, then watch a couple of movies after the last stragglers came through. After that, came your favorite part of the night, Hide and Seek. It might seem childish, but watching a bunch of tipsy/drunk people try to stay quiet in a hiding spot was always hilarious.

 You were making another batch of popcorn when Chris walked into the kitchen. "Hey, we just put on The Lost Boys, just thought I'd let you know." You smile. "I'm not surprised. That's almost everybody's favorite." He laughs and grabs another bowl from the cabinet. "I know, that's why we put it on first, so nobody can complain about it later." The timer on the microwave went off signaling that the popcorn was finished, and you carefully took the bag out. You gave Chris the cooling-down bag and picked back up the one you set on the counter before he walked in. After emptying them and grabbing extra napkins, Chris brought the popcorn out to your friends who were talking through muffled and hushed whispers. Before you walked back into the room, he pulled you back for a second to whisper something in your ear. "I pulled the seeker for tonight. Unfortunately, it wasn't you. Maybe next year." You pout and then smile "Fuck, I'm never going to get picked." He laughs as you glanced around at everybody scattered in the room. 

Ryan sat with Justin on the loveseat. Folio was a drama queen and insisted he get his own seat. Nicholas, Vinny, and a few other of your friends, Florence, Nicole, Victoria, and Robert who were invited sat around the coffee table on the floor. Ricky, Jolly, and Noah were on the couch. Then, you and Chris got the two giant bean bags in the corner. The lights were changed to red and the TV just started the opening credits to The Lost Boys. You and Chris give the popcorn to Ricky and Nicholas respectively, everybody else having their own mostly full bowls, and grab your drinks before plopping back down on the bean bags. Folio rubs his hands together and smiles. "Now that our final two goofballs are here, who's ready to watch one of the best horror movies ever made?" Everybody gives some form of yes or a holler, and he immediately turns the volume up. As the movie plays, there is a small conversation here and there, and occasionally someone has to get up for a new drink, but you are relaxed and having fun. 

At about the halfway point of the movie, Noah gets up to get another drink from the fridge. On his way back, Jolly scares him, causing his wine to spill all over the floor and your sweatpants. "Jesus man!" The movie is paused and everyone's attention is on you guys. Jolly laughs and puts his hands up in defense. "Sorry dude, I had to scare you at least once today." He turns to look at you. "Didn't mean to ruin your sweatpants though, my bad." You wave him off. "It's no big deal, these were old anyway. You guys can keep the movie playing. I'm just gonna change into different pants real quick." You take a sip of your drink and get up from your spot to go upstairs. 

After finding your weekend bag, you huff as the extra sweatpants are nowhere to be found. Instead, you pull out a pair of spandex volleyball shorts and go to the bathroom. Noah hears the sink running upstairs as he's cleaning up the accidental mess he made by your spot. He throws the paper towels away and before he gets to the stairs, Chris quietly asks "You good?" He nods, telling the other singer he's going to make sure you're okay, and heads to your bathroom. He knocks a few times and after a couple of seconds, the sink cuts off and you open the door. You were expecting one of your girlfriends to be standing there, but instead, it's Noah. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'm sorry about spilling on your sweats. I hope I didn't ruin them." Holding up the pants, you show him where the stain had previously been. "If these sweats can make it through one of your tours, they can certainly handle a little bit of wine. I just didn't want them to stain, since you drink the darker stuff." He chuckles and follows you back into the bedroom. 

You grab your shorts and get ready to put them on, but Noah points to your leg. "I didn't know you had a thigh tattoo." You glance at it and glance at him confused. "Really? I got it a while ago. I could've sworn I showed you when I got it done. Then again, I'm always in longer shorts, so it's not exactly easy to see." Setting them down, you turn to the side and pull part of your underwear band up, showing the last covered part of the tattoo. Looking up at Noah, you can see he's staring, but there's something else behind his eyes. Just not sure what it is though. You don't flinch when he reaches his hand out, but your skin gets goosebumps as his fingers ever so lightly trace over the ink on your leg. Everybody that came over tonight had seen each other in their undergarments or even completely nude before, whether by accident or on purpose. Hell, you've walked in on him changing plenty of times. 

So why did the room suddenly feel hot? 

It could be that you've had a crush on the man since you were kids. There wasn't anything not to like. His personality just made you want to be around him all the time. He's sweet and kind, and has a terrible sense of humor that only you two get. You could go on and on. He was just an all-around amazing person. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you missed the hand that was snapping in front of your face. "Hello? Are you there?" Coming back to reality, you saw Noah looking down at you with curiosity. You quickly apologized and asked him to repeat what he said. "I said it looks amazing on you. The placement is perfect and it works great with the curves of your leg." You thank him and can't help but notice just how close he's standing to you. There's a tense silence for a couple of moments, and neither of you moves from your spot. You glanced at his eyes, then his lips, but immediately looked away. 

It felt like you were a school girl again, talking to the guy you've had a crush on for ages. You heard him mumble a "Fuck it" before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. They were soft and tasted like wine, courtesy of the drink that led you here in the first place. You felt his hand move to rest against your cheek. His lips were gentle, almost as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it would never happen again. When the two of you finally pulled away for air, your eyes remained closed for a moment, before slowly opening them and meeting Noah's. The two of you looked at each other in pure awe before you let out a small "Woah" He laughed, and you looked down, feeling your cheeks become hot.

The thought of you being so flustered made him blush too. How was it possible for someone to be this cute? Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you almost couldn't comprehend what just happened. "You know, for someone that always complained he was a terrible kisser, that was uh, really impressive." He could feel you now completely relaxed against him and he laughed a little, slightly embarrassed. "I'd say that I've had practice, but you already know my teddy bear in fifth grade doesn't count." The two of you laugh. Remembering his hand resting on your cheek, you look away and take a small step back. "I think we should get back to the movie. It's gotta be almost over by now, and I don't want them to yell at us for taking too long." He let out an uncomfortable laugh and muttered a "Yeah." 

You never noticed but Noah frowned slightly when you pulled away from him. He felt so comfortable being that close to you. As you turned to the door he realized something. He really liked you and didn't want this to be just a one-time thing, especially if it was going to make things weird between you afterward. He picks himself out of his thoughts just as you open the door. He walks across the room, taking your hand and silently closing the door. Standing there surprised, you ask him, "Are you okay?" It was now or never he told himself. "I'm sorry, I just..." He takes a breath before continuing. "I really want to kiss you again." You stand there just as surprised but decide to see just how far this could possibly go. "What's the problem then?" He lets go of your hand and brings his own up to hold your face. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers. 

"The problem is, if I kissed you, I don't think I'd be able to stop." 

He obviously likes you, right? But this is your best friend. You've known each other for years. If he did like you this much, he would've told you by now, right? You two have been affectionate towards each other before, but there's a line neither of you dared to cross. If you crossed it now, you would rather do it with no regrets. It was better than wondering what could have been. "What if I don't want you to stop?" Noah tilts your head so you're looking him in the eyes. 

"Then I won't." 

He pushes his lips against you again, this time with newfound hunger. His hands fall and grab at your waist while yours go around his neck. Your feet follow his backward and you hit the edge of the bed. He pulls you down to sit on his lap, completely forgetting your lack of pants while he pushes himself further back on the bed. His tongue runs across your bottom lip and you open your mouth allowing him in. Your hands gently tug at the now-cut-short hair on the back of his neck and he grabs at your hip hard enough to leave bruises before pulling you even closer to him. Shifting your weight a little, your lower half sits directly on his hardening cock and he groans into your mouth. He pulls his lips away only for them to move down your neck. You tug at his hair a little harder and he sucks at the tender skin that connects your neck and shoulder. A moan leaves your lips and you mindlessly grind down against him. There was nothing that could prepare you for how right this felt. Like you were seeing a whole different side of him, hidden from the outside world, and for your eyes only.

Noah moved to whisper in your ear. "Quiet baby, wouldn't want everybody to hear us, hmm?" You shake your head no, but it doesn't matter as he kisses you again. "Hey, are you guys-OH MY GOD!" The bedroom door opens to see a shocked Chris looking at the two of you. Noah pulls away from your mouth, and the two of you look like deer in headlights. "I'm going to go... quickly." Chris walks away, before coming back and closing the door. You and Noah make eye contact for a split second, before the two of you look away, slightly embarrassed that you were caught. "Maybe we should go back before someone comes in again." He clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea." Carefully getting off of him, you stand up and let him off the bed. You both straighten out your respective clothes, and you finally put on those shorts. 

"Are you alright?" He nods and you get ready to walk toward the door. Noah runs his fingers through his hair. "Um, Before we go, I just wanted to ask...You don't regret any of what just happened, right?" You immediately shake your head no, slightly frowning. Maybe this was all a big mistake. "Not at all. Why? Do you?" He smiles and also shakes his head no before taking your hand in his. "Nope. No regrets." A smile replaces the frown on your face. You ask "Are you ready for them to never let us live this down?" He laughs and glances at the door. "That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me." Giving him a nod, he opens the door and the two of you walk back into the living room where the rest of your friend group is talking amongst themselves. When they hear you guys walk in, it gets silent. Noah lets go of your hand so you can sit down first, and then goes to his spot on the couch. 

Nobody said anything for the first couple of moments before Chris broke the silence. "You guys fucked in my spare bedroom..." Instantly you and Noah sat up and shook your heads. Your voice and his overlapped and both of you tried to tell your friends that technically nothing happened. Once the two of you were finished explaining, the room was silent for another couple of moments before anyone spoke. The silence was starting to make you uncomfortable, but before you could say or do anything, Ryan threw his hands up and yelled. "Fucking finally!" This breaks the tension in the room and everybody starts laughing and giving you and Noah happy looks. You even saw a couple of people passing money around. Those fuckers bet on you and Noah getting together. When the commotion has died down, another movie has started, and everybody turns their attention to the TV. As you focus your attention on the screen, your phone buzzes, and you pick it up. 

Noah

"I was thinking later we could finish what we started in the spare bedroom?"

You smile at your phone and quickly respond before setting it down.

"Well, we're still playing Hide and Seek after the movie. I'm once again not the seeker, lol. If it happens to be you, don't go easy on me. Depending on how the rest of the night plays out, you might get your wish ;)"

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Noah readjust himself in his seat. He sends back a text almost instantly, and goosebumps litter your skin again as you read his last text.

Noah

"Oh, I won't. I like the hunt."

Nope, no regrets.

[gotham--fc]

Désolée - A Marie-Philip Poulin and Laura Stacey Imagine

Part two of my previous Pou and Stacey fic which you can find here

Y/N comes to visit Pou and Stacey in Montreal and tempers flare

Y/N had never been so relieved for summer break.

She, like every teenager, counts the days until school is out, naturally, but this summer is different. From dealing with normal school stuff, to her hometown team who keep moving her up age groups and coaches not so subtly trying to poach her for their teams, to being in the national team rotation and suddenly being one of the most popular people in her town, she’s ready for a break.

Of course, hockey doesn’t stop, hockey never stops, but hockey takes a break. Or rather, she takes a break since she doesn’t have to attend tryouts and recruitment camps anymore. She feels bad, feels like she’s getting special treatment over some of the girls who have been on the team longer than her, but there’s nothing she can do about it. And she has plans, so there’s that.

She steps off the plane in the Montreal airport, carry on dragging behind her. She didn’t want to check a bag, so she shoved everything into her carry on and now it feels heavier than anything. She finds her way through the airport and out past security. She pauses for a moment, looking around at all the people gathered there, trying to find a familiar face. Her eyes land on a brightly coloured sign with “Mon Petite Lapinou” written on it. She shakes her head fondly, a blush rising on her cheeks and a warmth filling her chest.

“Salut!” Pou wraps her up in a big hug and rocks her side to side. “How are you? Was the flight okay? How did your exams go?”

“Marie, please, let the girl breathe,” Laura says. Pou lets go and Y/N hugs Laura. “She was a little too excited for your visit,” Laura whispers to Y/N.

“Have you ever been to Montreal?” Pou asks as they walk to the car. Pou took Y/N’s carry on from her as soon as they started walking and carries it easily.

“No, I mean, I’ve been to Quebec for tournaments and stuff but I never had any in Montreal. We were mostly in Gatineau and Sherbrooke.”

“You’ll love it, it’s a beautiful city,” Pou says, “Maybe you’ll love it so much you’ll want to come here after you graduate college.”

“Marie,” Laura scolds, “She’s not even done high school.”

“Okay okay,” Pou says, “But I’ll still make you like Montreal more than Boston. I don’t want you playing for my rival team in a few years.”

Y/N smiles at that. She has no doubt that Pou will convince her Montreal is a better city than Boston, but she has no idea what the future will hold. She doesn’t even know if she’ll do well in college, let alone get drafted and actually make a team in the PWHL.

“Are you hungry?” Laura places her hand on Y/N’s shoulder as Pou puts her bag in the trunk of the car. “We can stop somewhere for food on the way back if you want.”

“I’m alright,” Y/N says, subconsciously leaning into Laura’s touch. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Alright,” Laura says, “Let us know if you change your mind, okay?” Y/N nods.

They all pile in the car, Laura in the front seat while Pou drives and Y/N in the back. Pou talks the whole time, telling Y/N all the things they’ll do while she’s here, pointing out landmarks and buildings and telling stories. Y/N does her best to listen, but the flight and the rocking of the car pulls her to sleep.

“Marie,” Laura says quietly, “Look.”

Marie glances in the rearview mirror and sees Y/N asleep. She smiles fondly at her.

“It’s hard to believe she’ll be going to college in a year, she looks so young,” Marie says.

“Don’t say that when she’s awake,” Laura says, “She might kill you.”

***

Y/N really likes being with Pou and Laura. It’s fun, exploring Montreal, and getting to see the two of them outside of the camp environment. It’s not like they hide their relationship, since everyone knows about them, but they still keep things professional during camps. It’s fun seeing them without the pressure of camp and performing.

Pou wakes up every day at 5am to walk Arlo. They return at 6am and make the most noise possible and Y/N smiles as she hears Laura yell for them to keep it down and then the clamber of footsteps as Pou and Arlo run up the stairs and jump in bed with Laura. Y/N then usually pulls her pillow over her head and goes back to sleep until 8am.

Pou and Laura love going to farmers markets and Y/N tags along as Pou speaks in rapid fire French to all the vendors. Y/N tries to keep up, but her grade nine French isn’t enough.

“You’ll pick it up the longer you’re here,” Laura tells her, “If you even end up in Montreal. You won’t need much French in Boston, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Y/N says.

She doesn’t know how to explain the pit in her chest that opens every time one of them mentions Boston, or where she’s going to end up once she graduates. She knows she has to think about it, she’s going to Boston in a year, she can’t avoid it, but she just wishes everyone would let her spend the summer just being a regular teenager on summer vacation.

“I’ll have to send you a list of restaurants to try when you’re in Boston,” Pou says that night when they’re having dinner. “And me and Laura can come visit you and–”

“Can’t you spend one day not talking about Boston?” Y/N snaps, “I might not even go to Boston! And I might not get drafted to Montreal in five years if I even get drafted at all! I’m sorry that you only care about me because you think I’m your protégé or something but I’m not like you and I never will be!”

Y/N shoves her chair back and storms out of the room, frustrated tears in her eyes.

“Wh – Y/N! Come back here! Arrêt! Reviens à table!”

Y/N ignores her and slams the door of the guest bedroom.

***

Laura isn’t going to say she say this coming. She saw signs, the way Y/N got quiet and seemed to shrink whenever someone brought up college or the pros, the way Marie never seemed to notice. She won’t say she’s better at reading Y/N than Marie, or that Marie is unobservant, or anything like that. Laura only noticed because she’s been through this with Marie already.

Back when they first started dating, Laura wasn’t settled in her career. She still felt like an outsider, like a fringe player, and she spent years expecting the national team coaches to call her and tell her she didn’t make the team. Marie never understood that, because she never had to. Ever since her debut, she was a mainstay on the national team. She’s the captain, there was no question she would be on every team she was healthy enough to be on. She never dealt with the uncertainty.

Marie also never understood why Laura doubted herself. She never understood why Laura would plan for what happens when she gets cut. For Marie, Laura was a phenomenal player who made the team better, so why wouldn’t she be on every roster? For Laura, she was a good player in a sea of good players who all deserved a spot.

They had arguments, and times when they were both too stubborn and didn’t talk for days or weeks. There were times when Laura felt less than, and felt small standing next to the Marie-Philip Poulin. Of course, Marie never understood that either.

Things are better now, Laura is settled and confident in her skills. She doesn’t expect to get cut after every bad practice, and she doesn’t feel overshadowed by Marie. Yes, there’s still people who think she only got where she is because of Marie. People who think Montreal only signed her because they signed Marie first. But Laura knows what she brings to a team and she knows she deserves her spot. When Marie defends her, praises her, Laura doesn’t feel patronized. She knows Marie isn’t saying those things because she feels like she has to, or because she feels like she needs to appease Laura. Laura knows she says what she does because she loves Laura so much that she can’t stand to hear people criticizing her unfairly and she can’t stand people talking about her when they know nothing about her or her play.

Laura knows Marie sees a lot of herself in Y/N, but Laura thinks Y/N is a lot more like she is than Marie.

“Let her go,” Laura says, tugging Marie back down when Marie tries to storm after Y/N.

“But–”

“Give her space, you’re only going to yell at each other if you chase after her now.”

“She… She yelled at us! That’s… She’s… It was rude!”

“I know, love,” Laura gently rubs the space between Marie’s shoulder blades.

Laura knows it’s not the fact that Y/N yelled, it’s what she said that’s upsetting Marie.

“Let’s give her some time to calm down, and then I’ll go talk to her, see if I can figure out what’s going on.”

***

Y/N doesn’t emerge at all that night. Marie gets more and more sullen as the night goes on. Laura knows there’s nothing she can do when Marie is like this. They both can get in their heads and neither can let things go that easily, so Laura knows she just needs to let Marie sulk until she’s done sulking.

The next morning, Marie is still sulking. While Marie is out walking Arlo, Laura (even though she hates it normally) gets out of bed and prepares breakfast. She leaves two servings for herself and Marie and brings one serving up to Y/N’s room. She knocks lightly on the door.

“It’s just me, I’m leaving some breakfast here for you,” Laura says, “You can come down if you want, but you can stay in there for as long as you want.”

Y/N doesn’t come down, but Laura hears her open the door and take the plate. A little bit later, Marie comes home. Arlo gets halfway up the stairs before he realizes Laura is still downstairs. He leaps onto the couch and Laura laughs as he licks her face. Marie laughs too, but Laura can hear its strained.

“Is she still acting like a morveuse?” Marie says. Laura sighs.

“She is still upstairs, but she is not a brat,” Laura shushes Marie before she can start talking again, “She’s a 17-year-old girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. All you ever talk to her about is hockey or Boston, it’s no surprise she thinks that’s all you care about.”

“That’s not true!” Marie says, “I’m trying to help–”

“Marie, I love you, but sometimes your help doesn’t help,” Laura puts her arm around Marie’s shoulder and pulls her closer. “I know you think you’re helping prepare her for the future, and I love that about you, you know that.” Laura pauses. “Can you see that Y/N is stressed about college and her future in hockey and sometimes having that be all you talk about doesn’t help her be less stressed.”

“All I wanted when I was her age was for someone to tell me what to do,” Marie says quietly, her voice thick.

“I know, baby, I know.”

***

Later in the afternoon, Marie takes Arlo on another walk. Laura has told her not to spoil him during the offseason so he doesn’t expect this treatment all the time, but Marie doesn’t listen, and Laura doesn’t push it today. While Marie is out, Laura goes up to Y/N’s room.

“It’s just me,” Laura says after she knocks, “Marie isn’t home, can I come in?”

After a moment, Y/N answers quietly: “Okay.”

Y/N is laying on the bed. Laura sits beside her.

“How are you doing?” Laura asks. Y/N shrugs.

“Is she really mad at me?” Y/N whispers.

“She was,” Laura answers, “She’s not mad at you anymore. She was only trying to help and she didn’t mean to upset you. Look,” Laura sighs, “When she was your age, she was so scared. She had no idea what to expect. All she wanted was for someone to tell her what she was supposed to do and she assumed you would be the same way. She just wants to make things easier for you. She really does feel bad that she upset you so much.”

“I don’t feel like I deserve it all,” Y/N says, “Like, it’s different for her, or you. I’m not that good and I just… I don’t think I’ll make it.” Y/N rolls over so her back is to Laura. “I don’t want to lose you both when you realize I’m not as good as you think.”

“When I first started seeing Marie, I felt the same way,” Laura says. Y/N’s head jerks towards Laura and she looks up at Laura with a confused expression. “I stopped talking to her, actually, because I didn’t feel good enough compared to her. I thought it would easier to break it off than wait for her to do it later on.”

“What happened?”

“Marie is more stubborn than anyone I’ve ever met,” Laura smiles as she thinks about her fiancée. Y/N huffs out a laugh at Laura’s statement. “She wouldn’t let me go without a reason, so I told her. And she told me I was being an idiot and she was right. Marie loves hockey, but hockey is the last thing on her mind when it comes to the people she loves.”

“I chose BU because that’s where she went,” Y/N says quietly, “I just want her to be proud of me.”

“She is, she is so proud of you. We both are.”

***

Later, when Marie comes home, Y/N sits nervously on the couch. She and Laura practiced this whole speech that Y/N would say to explain how she was feeling and why she was feeling that way and Y/N was determined to say it. She was still running it over in her head when she hears Marie come in, when she hears Marie let Arlo off the leash, when she hears Marie greet Laura and walk towards the living room. Y/N takes a deep breath to center herself and stands. Marie pauses when she sees Y/N. Y/N opens her mouth to begin, but what comes out of her mouth is this:

“Mama.”

And then Y/N is crying and she throws herself into Marie’s arms. Marie freezes for a second, then she’s wrapping Y/N up in a tight hug.

“Oh, mon petite lapinou,” Marie says, “It’s alright, I got you, it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N cries, “I’m sorry.”

“Non, non,” Marie says firmly, “You have nothing to be sorry about, I am the one who needs to apologize. I’m sorry I pushed you and I’m sorry I upset you and I’m sorry you felt like I didn’t care.”

When Y/N finally stops crying, Marie pulls back and takes Y/N’s face in her hands.

“Are you okay now, mon petite lapinou?” Marie asks.

“Yeah,” Y/N wipes at her eyes, but Marie swats her hands away and wipes the tears away herself, much gentler than Y/N would’ve. Marie gives Y/N a kiss on the forehead.

“From now on, we won’t talk about hockey at all unless you bring it up first, okay?” Marie says.

“You don’t have to do that,” Y/N says, “It’s okay–”

“There are lots of things that we can talk about that aren’t hockey,” Marie says, “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now that that’s over,” Laura says, “Can we go back to enjoying Y/N’s visit?”

Marie and Y/N look at each other, and Y/N can see the same idea pop up in Marie’s head. They grin at each other then both turn to Laura. Laura realizes a moment too late and Marie and Y/N grab her and pull her down on the couch. Laura shrieks as Marie and Y/N wrestle her down. Almost immediately Arlo jumps on them and Y/N laughs so hard her sides hurt as Arlo alternates between licking Laura and Marie’s faces.

As Y/N watches Laura and Marie and Arlo wrestle on the couch, she’s really happy she took this trip, and she’s really happy she chose to play hockey and that it’s brought her to this moment right here.

[bloodyymaryyy]

Jewellery

Charles leclerc x reader

Masterlist

(author's note : hello beautiful people I tried to make it a bit smau for the first time but I don't like it at all but I will include a few "tweets" as the story continues it might be cringe by the way it was written)

Warnings : might be cringe (sorry), my writing, not proofread, English is not my first language

2 years ago :

Hearing people say that gifts like necklaces, bracelets and rings is a gift where it will be appreciated by everyone and mostly won't be taken of or thrown away sounded like the best gift.

Not knowing what to get your rich boyfriend for his frist birthday you decided to gift him a bracelet simple but sentimental with a cute message in the inside of it saying a few loving words with red letter being his favourite color too.

When you showed up to his apartment so you can head out to the dinner he had planned to and is going to wait for his friends to spent his special day to celebrate him.

A little bag in your left hand and your purse to the other walked towards him, kissing him gently in his lips to not mess up your lipstick and not transfer your lipstick to him you whispered to his lips happy birthday before kissing him again and stepping away from him and handing him his present

"I know it's not much because you can literally buy the whole store but I hope you like it!" Y/n said and smiled up to her boyfriend with adoration. "Do you want to open it now or later?"

" No why are you saying that? Whatever you get me I am sure I am gonna love it, no I want to open it now."

And that's what he did, he opened the bag and sew the box that contained the bracelet, opening again the box he saw it and set down the bag and the box inspecting it

"I love it mon cherie" he said and lined in gör a kiss

"No look at the inside mon amor"she cut him off "oh" he exclaimed now noticing the inside with the red letters "Oh mon dieu bébé, je l’aime et toi" he exclaimed again switching to his mother language and put it on and hug her tightly (oh my god baby I love it and you)

After some time of talking to each other they headed out of his apartment and headed to the restaurant where he had a table ready for them and his friends, as they sat down his friends came one by one with their girlfriends. Piere with Kika, Lando with his best friend Max, Max with Kelly, his older brother Lorenzo with his girlfriend, his little brother Arthur with his girlfriend and his mother Pascal.

Having fun on the secluded area of the restaurant with everyone, eating and drinking laugher and chatter filled the room gifts from everyone in the head of the table where an empty sit was and Charles while talking with his brother and Piere took his girlfriend's hand interlocking their fingers looking at each other for a few seconds and returning back to their conversations

After a few hours they got up decided to go to a club and saying good night to his mother when she decided not to go and they spend their time time morning drinking shots and dancing before they headed home.

1 years ago :

Again deciding to get him the same gift, a bracelet with a different color in the diamonds and different message again stacking them, putting a fight to not take them off wanting to have them on his wrist to have a piece of her in his races when she couldn't come with him because of work

The fans pointing out the silver bracelets that sat on his wrist shining and shimmering with the little diamonds with different colours and some other friendship bracelets from his fans having a field day each time they spot them and always getting the same answer

" My girlfriend got them for me, aren't they beautiful?" the same answer again and again melting the hearts of both his girl and his fans.

Present day:

Once again getting him the same bracelet with a message inside but with a necklace too that you saw on TikTok where their is a dogtag and under their is a outline of her body and sitting in a sexy pose and the words fuck me underneath the photo

To say the least he loved it it's an understatement but having it inside of his shirt so it doesn't accidentally turn around and reveal something so intimate for the whole world to see.

The bracelets now are famous watching as every year he has one added to the collection fans going feral with it

[szynkaaa]

Not My Circus, But Unfortunately That Is My Monkey

Next Chapter ✦ Read it on AO3

Guess what, I wrote a one-shot for my disaster children Sun Wukong and OC. I plan to write more, whenever I have some ideas that I need to get off. Not a writer, and English is not my first language! This is mostly self-indulging crap.

It is written in 1st POV, from my OC's, but I also use 'you' (2nd POV??) when she is referring to the Destined One/Sun Wukong. Imagine basically all the one shots are diary entires or letters she wrote addressing to him. Books that inspired me to write in this style: Cat and Mouse by Günter Grass, Stolen by Lucy Christopher and You by Caroline Kepnes.

Here is my OC tag with art and backstories that I am making up for her which may or may not get mentioned in my one-shots.

Stories will not be written in chronological order of their adventure, I will write whatever comes to my mind. It's also posted on my AO3

In Which There Was Only One Bed (There Wasn't, They Are Both idiots)

It was around the hours of the Ox when I heard light footsteps pacing outside my room. The door to my room in the Stone Palace on Mount Huaguo was not fully closed. I liked to leave a bit open, just wide enough for me to hear more clearly if there is anything happening outside the door and I need to get ready to fight for my life – habits I picked up from my travel with you that seemed to not be going away any time soon.  

I laid bundled up in three layers of blankets on a thin mattress on the ground close to nearest exist in the room: a window with no glass panels. A peach tree grew right outside said window, with the nearest branch to the window close enough for me to jump from the ledge over and climb down the tree to run away if needed. Even though you assured me that the Stone Palace is a safe place, and no harm can happen to me, after months of traveling with you and having far too many close encounters with death, I was not able to sleep anymore with all the doors and windows shut tight. It’s funny because before all of this, I couldn’t fall asleep before making sure that all doors were closed – and that included wardrobes too. I was so sure that if I left a wardrobe open, something was going to crawl out of it and drag me away as a kid. Now I fear that if I keep all doors closed, I will be trapped inside with whatever was already hiding in the room before even being able to escape. 

The pacing in front of my door stopped. Logically, I knew that it was you outside, and yet my heart pace still picked up, thinking that maybe, just maybe some yaoguai managed to get pass you is now to finish me off. There weren’t many creatures living in the Stone Palace. So far, it’s just you and me. You told me that while there are still some monkeys living on Mount Huaguo, there were still many things you needed to get sorted out before things would go back to the way it was before - before the Monkey King retrieved the scripts from the West, before he embarked on a long journey of sixteen years, before he was buried under the Five Element Mountain for 500 years, before he wreaked havoc in heaven. Back when the halls and mountain was filled with joyous laughter and mischief and happiness. A simpler time, you said once. But you were greedy and ambitious and wanted more.  

The pacing stopped. 

Keeping my eyes shut and pretending to be still asleep, I slowly reached for the dagger (a gift from the 4th Spider Sister) under my pillow. I opened one eye and glanced at the door. The door creaked slightly, indicating that whoever was standing outside was pushing it open now. And then the pushing stopped briefly, like they were hesitating. I slowly moved the dagger to under my blanket, heart beating wildly, praying that I will not have to use it. Did I even know how to swing a dagger? I didn’t, but better to have a weapon than none. I closed my eyes again, pretending to be asleep. 

This time, I heard someone knocking on the door.  

“You’re awake.” came a voice standing outside. It was you, Sun Wukong, stating facts rather than asking if I was awake at this ungodly hour.  

I released a relieved breath, not knowing I was even holding it and opened my eyes again. “Yeah, I am. What’s up?” I asked. I didn’t need to see your face to know that your eyebrows briefly furrowed at my ‘what’s up’. You got good at understanding the unusual way I talk, but there were still times where you couldn’t understand what I was trying to say.  

You pushed the door open and walked in, your eyes wandering from the empty bed and then to my form laying bundled up in three layers of blankets – due to the chilly night air - on a thin mattress on the floor. Confusion was written all over your face. I sat up from and put the dagger aside as you walked towards me, and then crouched down.  

“Why are you sleeping on the floor? Is the bed not to your liking?” you asked. There was worry etched into your face, your tail lowered to the ground. You were out of your armor, wearing a simple hanfu top and loose pants. The hanfu was not properly tied up, giving me a good view onto your fur-covered upper body – the only part showing some skins were your chest and neck. It’s very likely that up until few minutes ago, you were also in your own bed, trying to sleep.  

I wrapped my blankets around my shoulder and leaned back against the wall. “The bed is fine. It’s just...” I trailed off, suddenly feeling very silly for sleeping on the floor.  

You noticed my hesitation, and sat down on the floor opposite of me, legs crossed. I knew that this usually meant you were waiting patiently for me to find the right words to say what I wanted.  

Ah fuck it. You have already seen me at my worst, what is one more silly confession? “The bed is too soft.” I blurted out.  

One of your eyebrows perked up. “Too soft?”, you repeated gently. I half-expected you to mock what I said. The stories I read about the Great Sage Equal to Heaven were running through my head, how the Monkey King would easily mock and tease others for their weakness. But then I silently berated myself for even thinking like this about you – you’re not like this anymore. That was you long in the past. I was still getting used to the ‘new’ you. The you that inherited Sun Wukong’s relics and minds and memories.  

“I think I’m just too used to sleeping on the cold hard ground outside. I’m having hard time falling asleep these days on the bed, so I just move all the things down here to get some sleep. It’s silly, I know. We are not traveling anymore and I know this is a safe place but-”  

“It’s not silly.” you interrupted me, and looked me in the eyes with an intense stare, making my breath hitch. “I want you to feel comfortable here. And if this means you need to sleep on the floor, then so be it. If you need ten blankets to sleep with,” you continued, patting my three blankets, “then I will find you the best silk blankets in the three realms.” 

A smile hushed over my face at that statement.  

“Please do not run away again.” you finished, and a heavy silence hung over us. Again. I lowered my eyes, thinking back about the time when I could not accept that you, the Destined One, have fully reincarnated into Sun Wukong. At that time, it seemed to me like I lost a best friend and they were replaced by a look-a-like with a different personality. Toppled with the fact that finding all six artifacts did not send me back home, it was too much for me to handle and I ran away, hiding in the Zodiac Village for a few weeks processing everything. You went from not talking a single word to suddenly being able to say anything that came into your mind – it was new and foreign and just felt so wrong at that time.  

My actions at that time hurt you deeply, but you didn’t give up and came to visit the village every day, talking to everyone and just checking up on me while I was hiding away in the blacksmith’s cottage, like the coward I was.  

Things were not back to the way it was before between us, and I don’t think it ever will be – and that’s okay, I realized. Just because some things have changed, it did not mean it was for the worse. It was just different, but not in a bad way. 

Wiggling a foot out of my blanket layers, I gently nudged your leg. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Your shoulders visibly relaxed, and then it was my turn for asking questions. “Why are you awake at this time pacing in front of my door?”  

“I could not fall asleep either.” you replied, arms crossed like it was the most obvious answer. Duh.  

“Okay, yeah. I figured out that much.” I rolled my eyes. Typical monkey, not giving me a straight answer. “What is keeping you awake?” I rephrased my question. 

At that, your shoulders stiffened up and you avoided looking at me. It must have been something bad if you swallowed your pride to come over this late at night to see me. I pressed my lips into a thin line and nudged you again with my foot, to which you then simply grabbed hold of it. “Why is your foot freezing cold.” You asked instead. 

“I’ve been dead for seven years.” shot out of me sarcastically, as I tried to tug my foot back into the blanket, but you were holding onto it with an iron grip, and then you started to massage my foot with both of your hands to get some warmth into them.  

I felt the heat creeping up into my ears and tried to stay focused. “You’re avoiding my question.” Still holding onto the three layers of blanket, I shuffled a bit closer to you. You were still massaging my foot, putting all your attention into it to make sure it was warm.  

“You should be grateful the Great Sage is massaging a mere mortal’s foot.” you snipped back. 

Stupid rock monkey.  

Using my other free foot, I tried to kick you for that sassy comment, but of course you saw it coming and caught my second foot in your hands too – which was also freezing cold, and you started massaging that one too, very focused on the task at hand. 

I let you do it for a couple of minutes, till I could feel my toes again.  

“Hey Wukong...” I started; you didn’t pause what you were doing. “Please tell me why you couldn’t sleep?”  

Your movement briefly stopped, and then continued, your eyes avoiding mine. I bent forward a little bit and then grabbed your face with my hands, gently gripping the hair on your face and tilting your head up so that you were looking at me. You looked haunted, as if your head has been replaying some bad memories on repeat in your head like a broken record. You stopped massaging my feet, and moved your hand to grip mine that was holding your face, but you didn’t remove them from there. 

“I... I can feel it.” you started, eyes drifting off again. 

I moved my fingers a bit to massage your face, knowing that you loved it when I did this. “Feel what.” 

“When I close my eyes, I am back in the battle field. Fighting against his- my sworn brother. Against the Yaoguai I fought at my travel. The three-eyed bastard and his mutt. The anger of the Court killing my kin, and how terrified I was gambling with my life-” you spoke, your hands gripping my hands so tight that I winced slightly, to which you immediately loosened them and then ran your finger up and down against mine as a form of apology.  

I knew that by obtaining all six artifacts you would also gain Sun Wukong’s memories. However, it didn’t cross my mind that it also means you would have all the bad memories too, including the one where you had to kill yourself in order to be completely free.  

I was never really good with words, or knew what to do to make a friend feel better. But I knew I did not – could not – let you walk back to your room alone after what you just confessed. 

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” From the corner of my eyes, I saw how your tail slightly perked up at that.  

You hesitated, before replying, “I do not want to cross any boundaries and make you uncomfortable.”  

My eyes softened at that, knowing that you were referring to me still adjusting to the new-old you. “I mean. It’s not like it would be any different from when we shared a bed or bedroll when we were traveling.”  

Your tail was now up from the floor, swishing left and right, a sign that you liked the proposal. Sometimes I think that you didn’t even know your tail was moving on its own, giving away what you were feeling.  

Your hands stopped gripping mine, and then you scrunched your nose and said in a very distasteful tone, “The Great Sage does not sleep on the floor.”  

I see, back to the snobby dignified king act. I knew that this was your attempt to cover up for the honest moment we briefly shared few seconds ago 

Say what you want, the Monkey King is a bit of a tsundere. 

Slapping your face lightly with both of my hands, I then proceed to lay back down and closed my eyes. “Suit yourself. You can carry me to the bed cause I ain’t movi-”  

Before I could finish that sentence, something lifted me up along with my three blankets and then I was placed over a shoulder like a sack of potato. All I could see was a monkey tail swishing left and right before the room turned again and I was deposited ungently onto the bed, still cocooned up in my blankets. You motioned me to scooch over to the far end of the bed and then laid down next to me, with one arm under your head and the other resting on your stomach. “I need a blanket. Why do you have three of them?” You asked.  

I stared at you, and you stared back, slowly raising an eyebrow. We both knew that the raised eyebrow meant ‘Are you really going to make this hard because this is a fight you will not win but I will indulge you if you want to’. Then I smiled in surrender, and shuffled around a bit so that I was out of my blanket cocoon and held up half of the blanket as a silent invitation for you to come closer and get under the blanket with me.  

You did not need to be told twice. I lifted up my head so that you could put your arm under my head while I moved also closer to you, staring at the two moles on your exposed neck. You then moved the blanket over to us and placed your over arm around my body. I instantly felt much warmer, warmth that three layers of blanket could never provide. Wiggling my arms, I moved a bit back to make some space for my hands, before placing them on the exposed skin on your chest that was not covered by fur. 

Just like my feet, my hands were also freezing cold. You knew I had bad blood-circulation, and yet for some reason you never seemed to be prepared for whenever I decide to use your body heat as a personal hand-and-feet-warmer. Or maybe you did but didn’t mind it that much.  

“Why are your hands freezing cold mortal,” you hissed, but instead of pushing me away you grip around me tightened. Before I could give a reply, you said “And do not tell me it is because you have been dead for seven years.”  

I grinned, feeling my hands warming up, and then proceed to tuck my cold-again feet between his fur-covered legs. You let out a defeated sigh, and then rested your chin on top of my head. “The Great Sage, reduced to a mere warmth comforter for a mortal.” 

“Mhmmm.” I mumbled out, sleep finally catching up to me. ”Night night, Kiwi.” I said drifting off.  

Something that felt like a pair of lips brushed my forehead.  

Do you still see flashes of red, and feel the burning sensation of pain on your chest when you close your eyes? Do you still hear the sound of your Jīngū Bàng clashing with Erlang Shen’s spear, or when you laid in your sworn brother’s arms, taking your last breath before you crumbled into ashes, the wind carrying it away? You told me that the nightmares stopped whenever I was sleeping next to you. 

Now I wonder if you are having them again, sleeping alone in your bed that was too big for one lonesome Monkey King.  

[victoria-grimesss]

tear you apart - part IV

Shiny new Masterlist

->Pairing: König x fem!reader

->Words: 4.7k

->Warning: MDNI!, fluff, König spilling his heart out to his favorite girl, roadhead, car sex, outdoor oral, face sitting, overstimulation, pretty much porn with plot at this point. 

->A/N: A bit different that the other chapter but I wanted to do something a little sweeter.

Your dreams are luxurious and delicious these nights, a whirlwind of experiences ever since you transferred to the new base. You dream of luxuries far beyond your reach with a man who sure as hell should be out of your reach too. You dine on five star meals on the beach, sip champagne in a clawfoot tub overlooking waterfalls, have ravenous passionate love making sessions in silk sheets. 

König has rewired your brain and embedded himself within you.

You awake in his bed again as has been the same routine for a few weeks now, you’ve moved a stash of your stuff to his room at his request of course. You don't see each other too often during the day so night and early mornings are the times where you catch up and enjoy eachothers company.

Spending a few spare moments to soak in the smell of the sheets you roll out of bed and notice a flower in a tall glass of water sitting beside a note. 

Chicken scratch, yep written by König alright. You smile as you envision him scrawling it quickly before leaving for the day.

My love,

Clear your schedule this afternoon, I plan to take you somewhere very special.

-König, your one and only. (boyfriend)     :)

Boyfriend. 

Huh I guess that's really what the two of you are now. You both danced around the word for a while now. You suppose you were a couple in the grand view of it, slept in the same bed, ate dinner together, got ready for bed together, said goodmorning and goodnight to each other. You could get used to this. Off base dates are far and few too, sometimes you'll take walks around base, the views are amazing nearby and it makes you yearn for your own country-side cottage with a garden.

You ready yourself and go about your day, you’ve flowed into a nice routine as of late. Get up, sometimes with König, eat in the mess hall, workout, training, dinner with König sometimes, and usually not get a lot of sleep together because he's too busy having your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

You can’t complain.

The mess hall is loud and crawling with activity this morning, you enjoy it more than you thought you would. The activity is a welcome distraction from homesickness. You eat in silence, sitting with a few others you’ve somewhat befriended. Bennet hasn't been around lately, thinking of if now you can’t remember the last time you did see him.

You clear your throat,

“Have any of you seen Bennet around?”

One of the other guys laughed.

“Yea I saw him alright. Saw him on his way out. Guy got so scared of the colonel he transferred back to his home base. Guess the two of them clashed over something. But if you ask me, I just don't think the guy was cut out for this line of work.”

“Yeah, that's weird. Strange.” 

You continue eating, your question answered to your requirements. 

König is intimidating, sure he’s nice to you but you can’t imagine being an outsider, being on his bad side, or god forbid being his enemy. The stories you’ve heard about the things he’s done on the battlefield could make anyone uneasy. 

Breakfast finishes up and you head to the gym where you’re thankfully uninterrupted during your workout. Cleaning up you hit your next stop, the shooting range. It’s mostly empty, the weather is nice today so many people are using the outdoor range. 

You take your pistol, silencer equipped and a long range sniper down to the last stall and prep your gear.

You use the sniper first and take deep breaths before firing. 

The door opens and you assume it’s just someone else using the stalls until a voice makes you jump.

“Hold it higher liebling.” 

Your hand grips your heart, putting the gun down you turn fully around, being met with König standing tall with his hands behind his back.

“König, ever heard not to sneak up on someone with a gun?” You lean against the counter.

“Am I mistaken or is that your forte in the field? I’m simply a superior observing my team members, wouldn't want you using the tools the wrong way right?”

He's so quick with his quips, you smile then turn around bringing the gun up leaning your cheek on the side as to see through the scope.

You feel his hands on your hips and he kicks your feet further apart, you look down at his feet that are standing on the outside of yours. 

He brings his head down right next to your ear,

“Hold it back harshly into your shoulder, so the kickback won’t knock you down.”

“You’re making it hard to focus.” 

“I would assume you would be able to focus even with distractions yea? But I suppose our time in bed has proven otherwise.”

You blush but regain your composure quickly until one of his hands stays on your hips and the other brushes your cheek to move your hair slightly.

You shoot once, then twice, hitting the target both times.

His voice has gotten even lower, whisper dancing the line of soundwaves.

“You read my note yea?”

“I did, plan to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

He kisses the shell of your ear then your cheek through his mask. 

“I will see you later then, you’ll meet me in the lower garage at 1500 alright?”

“Oooh, meeting my big strong colonel in a dark garage, I certainly hope he doesn't take advantage of me.” You laugh and bat your lashes at him.

He squeezes your hip and scoffs playfully, 

“Keep talking to me this way and we certainly won’t even make it to the car. Busy yourself and meet me there, don't be late.”

He releases his grasp and you miss it already.

“Shall I pack a bag?” You ask.

“Don't bother, I’ve got everything handled. 

“Yes sir.” 

He steps away from you, walking to the door ignoring all others in the range and you watch him until the door closes. 

Taking a steadying breath you focus once more unto the range, feeling his phantom touch still.

—

You stop by your room before going to the garage, the lights flicker as you shut your door and you grow more and more excited for the evening to come. 

Opting for a simple two piece set underneath plain jeans, boots, a simple black shirt. 

The walk to the garage is straightforward, taking a dimly lit stairwell downwards and the garage smells of dust and you take it the electrical in this place could use an upgrade. Probably not high on the budget list.

There are rows of military vehicles and equipment, storage and the likes. An area sectioned off from the others hold what looks like personal vehicles, some nice and some looking decrepit. 

A door slams in that area and you make your way over,

“König? That you?” 

“Y/N, yes it is me! Just finishing up, go ahead and get in the doors unlocked.”

He drives a larger SUV, like the kind you see FBI agents driving, suiting you guess you never really pictured what car he drove but you can assume he drives whatever kind of car he can fit in so style types are probably very restricted.

You enter the car, the inside smelling like leather and the cologne he wears. It’s clean, damn near pristine the same as his room. The trunk closes and he gets in, his seat all the way back, he adjusts  and looks over to you, his eyes bright and he's buzzing with excitement. 

“Comfortable?” He smiles softly at you, he's wearing a black tactical long sleeve shirt, dark jeans, boots, and his usual hood of course. He looks good in black.

“Very. Can I ask where we're going yet?”

“Nope, just sit back and relax schatz.” 

He starts the car and pulls out of the garage, informing the guard of his time away.

The tall gray walls of the base and large fences you know melt away into a wonderful countryside with creeks, tall trees, and rounding hills. König has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your knee, his thumb rubbing small patterns.

“This is nice.” You breathe a sigh of relief, adjusting in your seat and König’s hand on your knee slips higher. 

König looks relaxed, he deserves this. Always working so hard… he should definitely relax.

Your hand wanders from the center console to his arm, rubbing the tight muscles underneath his hoodie. He squeezes the inside of your thigh in thanks.

Trailing your hand down his arm to the outside of his thigh, holding your hand there and tipping your head to look over at him.

He laughs breathily, “What are you doing, liebling?” His eyes shift from the road, your hand, and your face. 

“I just want to show you how much I appreciate you, König.” He shutters hearing his name from your lips and your hand moves to the now hardening bulge in his pants, he readjusts his hips to get more comfortable.

“Scheiße, you’re going to get us killed, sit back down I’m serious.”

He’s not serious, there is not even one percent of serious inflection in his tone, he speaks with need, his mouth already being filled with cotton at your movements.

You’ve leaned over the center console, face next to his ear as you unbutton his pants and palm him through his briefs, he’s solid where he sits and your mouth is already watering.

He shutters and his eyes flutter for a second,

“Eyes ahead baby, I can’t do anything if you don’t keep us steady ok?”

He does not answer, the blood isn't in his head anymore anyway, well not the one on his shoulders at least.

The trees race by the window as fast as your thoughts race in your head, you lean down and kiss him over the cloth, you feel his abdomen grow tense.

“I can stop if you really want-”

“Stop right now and I'll turn the car around.” 

You grin, mumbling a yes sir before moving your hand under the band of his briefs and giving a kiss to the tip. He takes a steady, concentrated, painful breath in and the exhale is so shaky you feel him tremble.

You give small licks from top to bottom, he’s a big guy so there’s certainly more to love. 

“Scheiße, ficken, Liebling ja” 

You take him fully in your mouth and he's warm, and fits right in place. You hum and he moans in response, you don’t think you’ll ever tire of hearing him like that. You take what doesn't fit in your mouth within the grasp of your hand starting at a steady pace. The music playing in the car isn't even registering in your head, the heavy weight in your hand and mouth is all you focus on.

“Fuck my love, your mouth feels-feels spectacular, I do not deserve what you give me.” 

He groans and bucks his hips up into your mouth, one hand on the wheel and the other gently being placed onto your neck, moving to the back of your head where he gently caresses your hair.

You’re working on him until he begins to shudder and you pull away, he tries to chase you with your hips but you lean back and kiss him on his cheek. His eyes are dark and he glances from you and the road.

“You’re going to kill me, Mein Liebling. He's panting, hand now gripping your hair tighter, you’re far from dry down under and touch his hand that's in your hair and move it down your front and under your pantline. You both moan when his fingers make contact with your wetness, he draws uncoordinated shapes into you, from your clit all the way to your entrance. He presses your entrance through your panties and it’s like he’s knocking on a door asking for permission to grant you the pleasure you oh so want, no need.

“König, please. I need you, I know you need me too.”

You whine, looking down at where his cock sits exposed, leaking heavily with every swipe of his fingers on you.

“My love. liebling.” 

He grits through his teeth when you take his hand once more and more your panties to the side allowing him unrestricted access to where the flames burn the brightest.

“Scheiße, du gewinnst” He pulls the car over, sitting on the dirt shoulder of the road, heavy tree cover surrounding you and you hear his heavy breathing.

He puts the car in park, removing his seatbelt and since the seat was already set all the way back due to his size he leans back and pats his lap.

“Come take what you want.” 

Eyes dark and hungry he watches you remove your pants and move over the center console onto his lap, his cock sitting right in front of you so it brushes against your stomach, you get a visual of just how deep he will slip into you. 

You’re shaking with anticipation when you grasp him again, pumping a few times before raising yourself to tease the tip over your panties.

His eyes are focused on where you touch him, his hands on your hips gently, awaiting your move.

“Get on with it..” 

His voice is dark and shadowy, his patience growing thin as you tease and tease him again, he’s a patient man but only for so long.

You play with him until you hear him growl deep in his chest, taking your panties in his grasp and you hear them rip.

“König! You seem to have an affinity for destroying each pair of panties I own.” 

You try to quip back but your voice is so breathily and weak it holds no volume. 

“I’d rather you not wear them at all, when we have a place of our own you won’t.”

You both moan when he pushes your hips down harshly, he sits fully inside you and you feel euphoric, one because he fills you so deliciously it has your mouth watering again and two he mentioned the two of you having a place of your own. Perhaps it’s him being so drunk on lust he says things he does not mean but your head is already slipping on all sane thoughts so you file that away for later.

His head tips back when he’s fully sheathed within you savoring the warmth and wetness you provide. 

“König, fuck. You’re so big.” You whine on top of him and his eyes regain their focus on you, he’s already too sensitive from your mouth earlier you might actually kill him with how tightly you’re wrapped around him.

His grip on your hips is bruising as usual and you have no qualms with it, feeling his grip reminds you this is all real and you need to ground yourself as you begin to move up and down on him the noises amplified in the car.

“Yes, just like that darling, fuck! You’re so, so good, so tight.” 

You start to move faster, spurred on by his praises your breathing grows faster as does his. Your hands try to gain purchase on the wheel behind you as you gain more speed, knocking the horn you breathily laugh and he grabs your hands and puts them on his shoulders. You grip your nails into him and he growls, now thrusting up into you he meets you halfway and you’re moaning his name so loudly now your throat hurts. 

The windows are fogged and you’re sweaty, hair sticking to your forehead.

He moves one hand from your hip to play with your clit, moving smooth and quick circles into you and you bow inwards your hand slapping onto the cold window, leaving a handprint on the fog it slips down and you wrap both arms around his neck your legs growing shaky and weak from your approaching high.

“König, don’t stop don-don’t stop please please.” You’re whining, squirming, and writhing in his lap an utter and complete mess and he drinks you in. Your pleasure makes his throb and balls tighten as he continues rubbing your clit and thrusting up into you.

“I can feel you getting close, you want to cum yea?” 

He’s panting and sounds just as destroyed as you are.

“Yes, I can’t hold on much longer. I want it so bad.” You whine and he stops altogether.

You cry, hitting his chest and trying to move but he holds your hip still.

“König plea-.”

“Beg.”

“What?” 

“You want to cum? Beg.” He’s not joking, he’s all serious and you whine again before spewing the filthiest words that’s ever come from your mouth, begging and praising him like a God to be worshiped. 

“Please König, god please I can’t, I need it. You’re so big, I need you to make me cum, fuck.”

“Good girl, always listening and doing what I say, I think you deserve a reward.” 

Before you can say anything he begins his thrusting and rubbing ten-fold and you once again hold onto him like your life depends on it as you cum harder than ever before, your vision is spotty and he’s praising you through it. He follows you through the high seating you firmly on his lap, holding himself as deep and he can reach and flooding you thoroughly. 

You both sit together for a good while, panting growing into soft breaths and you pull away from his chest and look at him, smile on your face.

“You think you can make it the rest of the way now? Are you satisfied?” 

He cups both of your cheeks, kissing your nose through his mask.

“I think I'll be ok for a little bit. Maybe.” 

You move off of him, both of your least favorite part is when he has to leave your warmth, but he’s never gone for long. 

You put on your pants, no panties due to König but you would assume he packed you some more, although his previous words would assume he rather you never wear any.

“Ready?” He’s buckled his pants again and you can’t help but notice the sizable mess you made on his lap, the bottom of his shirt and top of his pants wet.

“König, made a bit of a mess on you, sorry.” You grow shy.

“I like it, it challenges me to make you cum harder the next time.” 

Oh God.

He turns back onto the road and you continue your trip down the road, you roll your window down, still warm from your session and the cool mountain air fills your lungs and you rest a hand out of the window. 

—

“Liebling, we’re here.”

“Huh.”

You shoot up in your seat, König standing on your right side, the passenger door open his hand gently on your shoulder as he shakes you awake.

“You passed out, I clearly tired you out.”

“Shut up, you’re full of yourself.”

He laughs, offering his hand to help you out, you take it and observe the scenery around you. It’s late afternoon now and you’re parked in the driveway of a small countryside home, it’s dark inside so you can assume you’re not staying with anyone. There’s a large field surrounding the home. Trees lining the meadow and plants that held out over the cold weather stand strong and the evening sun is even a bit warmer than it had been recently. 

“König this is beautiful, is this your place?”

“Yea, just somewhere small when I need to get away. Don’t come here often, don’t have many reasons to visit. But I wanted to share this with you.” 

He's unpacking the car, grabbing both of your bags. 

“Do you need help?”

He laughs.

“No, I do not need help.” 

The car is locked and you follow him up the path to the house, clovers dot the front path and a flower box on the window is untouched, dry soil packing the inside.

He opens the door and the ceilings are high, but it’s still cozy, lived in even if he says he doesnt come here often. Shoes are discarded at the door and you hang your jacket on the coat rack.

“This is beautiful König, didn't take you for an interior designer.”

He sets the bags down near the front door and you take in the room.

“I actually had my mother decorate it, I don’t have much of a sense for style like she does.”

“Do you see her often? Your mom.”

“Holidays, I try to call her often but when it’s busy it’s harder. She understands.”

“Well I’m sure she’s very proud to have such an accomplished son.”

He smiles, head tipping down, “I hope so.”

He claps his hands, ending the heartfelt moment.

“You look around, make yourself at home. I will start a fire and later we will go watch the sunset ok?”

“Very well.” 

Your heart is giddy and light. He’s so kind and nice and handsome and sweet and a million other words to describe him. The house is more spacious inside than it appears outside, a large archway leads to the kitchen, one bedroom and a nice bathroom. Everything is high up, the shower head is fit just for him, cabinets stacked high, large bed which looks enticingly comfortable.

“König!” You call for him as you look around.

“Yes, mein Liebling.”

“How long are we staying here?”

“Just for the night my love, couldn't get much time away approved.”

“Oh, ok. Will we come back here eventually?”

“If you wish to do so then we will.” 

You observe the view out of the window and König wraps his arms around your waist.

“Scared me.” You laugh, your hands tracing along his hands and up his arms.

“My apologies, shall we head outside to enjoy the view?” He kisses the top of your head and you melt once more.

“Lead the way.”

He brings a thick blanket with him outside and lays it down in the meadow, you lay with your head on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you, watching the multitude of colors paint the sky as the sun descends another day, bringing a sweeping array of stars and cool breezes. 

“Thank you König. You’ve been so kind to me and bringing me here means a lot.”

“All that is mine is yours, if you’d allow me I’d like to show my appreciation again.”

You shiver in his grasp and he holds you tighter.

“Yes.”

That's all he needed to hear before he lifts up his mask and takes your lips in his, he trails his lips down to your neck and leaves new bright bruises and snakes a hand up your shirt to play with your breasts, nipples hard from the combination of the cold and his touch. 

“Pants off.” He tugs at your waistband and you comply, the cool air hitting your core.

His hand moves down and caresses your body thoroughly, missing no spot.

“Sit on my face Schatz.”

You pause and look at him.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.” 

He actually laughs now, a full laugh.

“I will die a happy man.” You push him back, he’s gleeful and you laugh as well.

“No really darling, you will not ‘suffocate me’ get up here.” He uses heavy quotation marks around his words and you carefully make your way up to his face, knees placed on each side of his head.

He lifts his mask right to above the peak of his nose and he licks his lips eagerly, eyes only focused on where you sit above him.

“Take your shirt off too.” He strokes your thighs slowly leaving goosebumps in his path.

“What if someone sees?!”

“No one is coming out here trust me. I wouldn't have you expose yourself if somewhere were to see what’s all mine right?” He bites his lip as you discard you shirt and bra

Completely exposed outside as you sit above a man you care about fills you with a fire once more.

“It is like I have died and gone to heaven, you are breathtaking.” He kisses the inside of your thighs as he talks, leaving small bites.

He truly feels he's undeserving. The setting sun casts a glow on your back where it illuminates your outline in soft light, it casts on the dips and curves of your body, the swell of your breasts softly lit.

He grows hard again in his pants but wants right now to be all about you.

“Now sit darling and relax.” You sit slowly onto his awaiting mouth, hovering over him as he kisses you first and licks from entrance to your clit. He has to lift his head to reach you which frustrates him.

“I said sit.” He grips your waist and forces you to sit fully on his face, his mouth latching tightly onto your clit and you gasp and he moans, eyes rolling back into his head as he tastes you once more. He can taste the both of you from the car ride and he licks feverishly at you making your head spin. The stubble on his face scratching the inside of your thighs so nicely.

You brace your hand on his head trying to make him slow but he won't relent from his work. He’s a thorough man and once he starts a job he won’t stop until it's finished. He works on you and your chest starts rising faster and faster, he sucks licks and ravages like he’s never eaten before. 

“König, don’t stop please.” 

You moan and tip your head back, he groans as you arch backwards hands bracing on his midsection and you moan freely into the air. His mumbled words vibrate your core and it makes you reach your peak that much quicker.

König doesn't stop, not after you cum and he won’t slow down, his face is soaked and his pupils dilated.

“König it’s too much, please.”

You try to move your hips away and he growls the hands on your waist gets tighter and you’re able to lift just a bit off his lips for reprieve, he whines.

“Please darling, give me another ok? Just a few more.” 

You can’t say no to him, he’s licking his lips again, your fluid soaking his face and nose, it glistens in the sunset glow and you can’t say no to him. So you lower yourself again, he smiles as his mouth meets you halfway. 

“Fuck, König.” It isn’t long before you cum on his mouth another two times, he’s quick to draw it out of you and he knows what buttons to push and ways to move to make you unravel.

By the end he’s kissing the inside of your thighs again and you pant down at him mind turned to sand by his actions.

“You look beautiful like this, we’ll have to do this more often.” His grip is light and his thumb makes patterns on your exposed skin and you shiver from the cold now, the sun fully set and the stars in full swing. 

“Here, let's get you inside, warm up yea?” He gives you his shirt to put on and carries, much to your protest, you back inside where you both shower and sit on the couch in front of the fire.

His arms are wrapped around you and your eyelids grow heavy as you rest on him.

“König.”

“Yes schatz?”

“Did you mean it earlier when you said we’d have a place of our own?”

He smiles, you can’t see it but he hums at the thought. The two of you retire from the force and he can come home to your awaiting gaze and warm touch.

“I would love it, more than anything. You complete me, relax me and ignite fire within me all the same. To live by your side would be eternal bliss.”

“I would love that too.” 

You smile and cozy yourself closer to him, your eyes grow heavy and you feel content giving yourself to sleep in his arms.

[jackson-imbecille]

Crushing an Egg

4k words, FFN AO3

Some description of gore, speculated and ectoplasmic.

Mr. Lancer goes back into the school during a ghost attack to rescue Daniel Fenton after realizing he did not evacuate with the rest of the school

When William Edward Lancer first started teaching at Casper High, he knew there was a risk of danger. It’s a horrible thing to think about, but there was a very real chance of an intruder, or even one of his students bringing a weapon with the intention to harm others. But never back then, had he thought the risk of harm to his students would be this large. 

Ever since the ghosts started appearing, the school had been subject to constant attacks. And now, the severity of the attacks had been steadily increasing. At first, it had just been pairs of humanoid ghosts, who were mostly uninterested in harming humans, using the school as their battleground. Then, every once in a while, the occasional low to mid-powered animal ghost would attack. But recently, more and more mid to high-powered animal ghosts had been seen rampaging the halls of Casper High. Trampling anyone in their path and blindly attacking anyone they deemed a threat, obstacle, or annoyance. 

Two students had already been hospitalized due to injuries received during one of these attacks. There was talk of installing a permanent ghost shield, replacing the temporary one already installed. Although it would use far more power than the school district could ever afford. 

At the moment, the best they could do was hope for the attacks to stop, and be ready for when they inevitably didn’t.

“Now, it’s important to view the story from all angles. It’s easy to understand the protagonist’s point of view, but what about the antagonist? Now, Nag and Nagaina planned to attack the family for the same reason Rikki destroyed their eggs: fear. Why do you think their actions were viewed as evil, while Rikki’s actions were viewed as good?” 

The class was silent. Some students stared blankly at his face, some out the windows, others at the clock behind him, counting down the minutes til the class ended. 

Edward sighed. “You don’t have to answer, I just want you all to really think about it.” He waited a couple seconds before moving on. “This story was written about a hundred years ago, but it can still relate-” He heard a sharp gasp and stopped in the middle of his sentence. Daniel Fenton was frantically scanning the classroom, as if he was searching for danger.

“Mr. Fenton, are you alright?”

His head snapped forward, and he visibly forced himself to relax. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, but I really have to go.” He started anxiously tapping his fingers against his arm. “I, uh, forgot the, the, the book in my locker.” 

Edward looked to Daniel’s bag, trying to read the text on the book barely poking out. “I thought I saw the textbook on your desk a minute ago?”

Daniel reached over and zipped the bag closed. “Yeah, that was the science book. I grabbed the wrong one. They both say Pearson on the front, so I mixed them up. I’ll be quick, like, five minutes tops.” He started tapping his foot and quickly glancing between Edward and the door. Though it was very possible that Daniel had indeed grabbed the wrong book, he doubted it. But there was no use fighting against this. Even if he said no, Daniel would keep pestering him until he inevitably walked out without permission.

Edward sighed and ran his hand down his face before relenting. “Alright, please be quick.”

“I will, thank you.” Daniel grinned sheepishly and grabbed his bag before running out.

Edward scanned the room. It didn’t look like much had changed, but he attempted to engage the class anyway. “So, how does the conflict between the animals in this story mirror the conflicts we see in our modern day human society?” Surprisingly, he saw a hand slowly raise to answer the question.

“Yes Kwan?”

The boy looked towards his friend, Dashiel Baxter, as if waiting for something. Mr. Baxter waved his hand in a ‘go on’ gesture, and Kwan began to speak. “Well, the snake and the mongoose are at each other’s throats. The snakes are dangerous to the humans, so the mongoose wants to kill them. But then he kills, uh, breaks the eggs, which haven’t done anything wrong. Like, they had potential to be dangerous like the other snakes, but they were completely innocent. So I guess it’s sort of like-” Before he finished his sentence he was cut off by a loud blaring alarm.

“Attention all students and staff, a level 7 animalistic ghost has entered the building. All students and staff are to evacuate immediately.”

The class was panicking. Students were grabbing their bags and crowding to the door, knocking down desks and tables, and pushing others down to get to the front.

Level seven was high. So far, the detection system had only alerted to a few level sevens, all of which were humanoid. A ghost with that much power could easily kill a student. And with it being animalistic, it wouldn’t likely think to avoid doing so.

“Okay everybody please line up single file, stay calm, don’t push or shove, and stay together.” Edward tried to take control of the situation, but the students’ fear far outweighed their reasoning. He followed them out the door, helping up students that had been pushed down, and tried to move to the front of the group. Luckily, his classroom wasn’t far from the nearest exit. It wasn’t long before they were all safely hidden underneath the bleachers next to the football field, along with several other classes taking refuge there from the danger.

He took a second to catch his breath before counting his students. None of them were absent that day, so he shouldn’t have been missing any. He counted one short. He recounted and got the same result. He went down the list alphabetically and stopped once he got to the Fs.

“Where’s Daniel?”

The class fell silent. Some students began to search nearby crowds for their classmate, and Elena, one of his more observant students, stepped forward. “He left to get a textbook, remember?”

Edward froze. His head started to heat up and it felt like a rat was frantically trying to claw its way out through his chest. He grabbed his walkie-talkie and brought it up to his mouth. “I’m missing a student, does anyone have Daniel Fenton with their class?”

A couple seconds went by. He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe, he didn’t even think. He just listened and stared back at the school building, as if willing his student to suddenly burst through the doors and run towards them. The shield started to materialize around the building, trapping whatever ghost that was there inside. Every class had already made it out.

The walkie-talkie buzzed to life and emitted the one sentence he was dreading to hear. 

“Nobody’s seen him.”

His stomach dropped. All of the students knew to stay with a group, any group, when there was an attack. The only reason a student would be completely missing is if they were cornered by the attacker, which could only mean one thing. “Gone with the Wind, he’s still in there.”

The Fentons were fast, but even they would need time to gather supplies and get to the location of the attack. And by then it might be too late. Daniel Fenton was not an athletic child, he didn’t stand a chance against whatever was in there with him. 

“Star, you’re in charge. I want you to bring the class over to Mr. Falluca. Tell him the situation and don’t let anyone separate from the group. I’m going back inside.”

Star reached over and grabbed Paulina’s hand before nodding. “Okay.”

Edward looked towards the school, gathered his breath, and ran. He ignored the confused and concerned shouts of the students and staff, he ignored the burning sensation in his legs, he ignored the fear rising up from the pits of his stomach and the back of his throat. He needed to do this. His student needed him.

He passed through the shield, feeling nothing but a slight buzz as he went through, and threw himself through the doors before stilling and holding his breath. He needed to be smart about this. He couldn’t just launch himself into danger, that wouldn’t fix anything. He needed to be calm, careful, and quiet.

He slinked through the halls, careful to not make a sound, and searched through every unlocked classroom he walked by. He could hear shrill squealing from every possible direction, but it was the ceiling that shook and shuddered. The ghost was above him.

He hastened his movements, whisper-calling his student’s name into the doorway of every room, hoping to find him before he himself was discovered. No one answered. He went to the basement floors, raising his voice slightly, and running from room to room. Nothing. Maybe Daniel had found his way out of the building and away from the threat. Maybe he was putting himself in danger for nothing. He grabbed his walkie-talkie and raised it to his mouth once again. 

“Does anyone have Daniel Fenton with them?” 

He heard loud booms and crashes from above, followed by shouts and animalistic screeching. The shouting sounded human, masculine and young.

The walkie-talkie buzzed. “None of us have him.”

He knew where Daniel was.

He ran to the stairs and scaled them as fast as he could, not caring whether or not he made noise. If he did, it would certainly be masked by the squeals and screeching of the ghost above him. 

He tripped halfway up the second flight, but continued scrambling his way up. He couldn’t waste any time, his student was in danger.

He made it to the top of the stairs and looked down the hallway. It was completely still, silent. If it weren’t for the cracked floor tiles and walls he could almost pretend there hadn’t been a ghost here at all. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t dwell on that. He had to find his student. 

He ran into an empty classroom and searched, but found nothing. He peered out the door but saw no sign of the ghost. He ran to search the next classroom, ignoring the trail of glowing green beneath his feet. Empty, just like the last one. 

What if he was too late? Daniel was by no means a particularly strong or brave child. The boy was terrified of ghosts and would likely be too overwhelmed with fear to try to think of an escape route if cornered. 

He searched the next classroom, still no sign of the boy. Suddenly the animal ghost burst through the walls of the classroom, barreling towards him and roaring with anger. He scrambled to hide behind one of the tables that had been knocked over and braced for impact, but it never came. 

He heard an ear-splitting screech of pain followed by a large thud and the scraping of hooves against tile. The scraping gradually faded off and Edward was left alone again.

He took in a deep breath and quickly began to hyperventilate. He could have been killed. God, he nearly was killed. Maybe he was the wrong person to do this. Maybe he should leave and let the Fentons handle this when they arrived. Maybe he should just hide and hope he isn’t discovered.

But if he did that, what would happen to Daniel? As a teacher he had two main responsibilities, to educate his students, and to protect them. To protect them even if that meant sacrificing his own life to save theirs. 

Daniel was his student, and he wasn’t going to sit back and let his student die.

Edward stood up and left the classroom to continue his search. He sped from room to room, trying to ignore the furious screeches threatening to split his skull open, trying not to think about what might happen to him if he was caught by the beast emitting them, trying not to think about what would happen if Daniel was caught.

Distressing images flashed through his head. Images of his student, abdomen ripped open and organs spilling out, mouth open, eyes vacant and clouded over. Worse, head crushed underneath hooves, skull fragments and teeth scattered across the floor, a leg detached from the rest of his body, being gnawed on by the beast as if it were a dog’s chew toy. He shook his head and tried to get rid of them, but they refused to leave. 

Thrown down a flight of stairs, neck broken and skull cracked from the impact. Head bitten off by powerful jaws. Pierced through the stomach and left to slowly bleed out. Eaten alive, still thrashing and screaming, begging to be let go- 

He heard the yelling again, Daniel wasn’t dead yet. If he followed the sound, he would find Daniel. And if he found Daniel, he’d be able to help him escape. He ran down the stairs and sprinted to the west side of the school, the shouts growing louder and louder, and the inhuman screeching growing along with them. He forced himself to ignore the screeches, he needed to protect his student, he couldn’t run away from danger this time. But right as he reached the source of the screaming, he froze. 

The ghost, a ginormous and terrifying boar with tusks sharp as daggers protruding from its jaws and a single spiral horn erupting from its forehead, and a small body pinned to the wall, pierced through the middle by its horn.

The screams hadn’t been coming from his student.

It had been another ghost.

The phantom.

He shouldn’t get involved. He should just leave. This was a dangerous situation. He needed to leave and find Daniel. But one glance at the smaller ghost’s eyes and he couldn’t. His hands were shaking, his heart was accelerating, his breathing was getting faster and faster. He grabbed the legs of a desk and, with a strength he didn’t know he had, struck the boar in the face with it.

The boar screamed and fell to the ground, releasing the boy from its hold. It attempted to stand back up, but Edward struck it again and again. His arms felt like they could fall off, but he continued to strike the boar. His legs felt like they could no longer support his weight, but he continued to strike the boar. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, but he continued to strike the boar. It wasn’t until his legs gave out and his arms refused to move the desk again that he realized that the boar wasn’t going to get up.

He knelt there, staring at the creature, breathing heavily and trying to understand what had just happened. The horn was broken off of its head and into two pieces, the core of it glowing green and sparking, yet gradually dimming as the seconds passed. The face was caved in, and there was ectoplasm everywhere. Had he really done that? The boar began to melt and bubble away, slowly simmering into nothingness.

“Are you alright?” Edward snapped his head towards the source of the question and winced when his eyes met the large wound in the phantom’s abdomen. It was larger than he had thought and gushing out ectoplasm.

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” Edward replied. “Do you need help? I could get you a first aid kit if you’d like.” 

The phantom’s face scrunched up in thought. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be outside with everyone else? There was an evacuation, wasn't there?”

Edward jumped as he remembered what he was doing before. “I’m missing a student. He didn’t evacuate with all the others and I-”

“Daniel Fenton?” Phantom offered, then flinched slightly, as if he regretted saying anything.

“Yes. How did you know?” Edward looked at him curiously.

“I,” Phantom looked around the room, seemingly hesitant to give up the answer. “I helped him get out.”

Edward let out a relieved breath. “So he’s safe?”

Phantom looked down at his wound and paused before speaking. “Yes. he’s safe.”

It felt like a large weight was lifted off his shoulders. His student was alive. He looked back to the wound in Phantom’s abdomen and winced. “I’m going to go find a first aid kit so I can help fix your wounds. Don’t move from this spot, I’ll be right back.”

He ran out of the room and down the hall, quickly losing his breath. Now that the threat of imminent danger was gone, it seemed that his limits had been put back in place. He slowed to a halt and leaned against the wall next to him to catch his breath. He would have to walk.

He was almost to the nurse’s office when he began to hear hushed voices.

“...ectoplasmic readings…faded gradually… cut off like usual…could mean…not sure…”

He crept closer to the source of the sound, careful to not be heard, before realizing there was no danger in being observed. He began to walk normally, yet still relatively quietly towards the source of the sound, feeling rather silly for his earlier actions.

The voices soon became clear as he came closer, and before too long, he could see the familiar orange and teal jumpsuits of Jack and Madeline Fenton. “...Knew we should have brought the tracker.”

“There’s still an ecto-signature in the building. He has to be around here somewhere.”

Edward cleared his throat, causing the other two to jump and face him. “Drs. Fenton, might I ask what exactly you are doing here?”

Jack and Madeline both jumped before turning to face him, Jack looking confused and Madeline with a smile on her face. It was a sweet smile on the surface, he had seen this smile a million times on a million different faces. But rather than feeling warm and inviting like it usually would, it was cold, condescending. He felt insignificant under her gaze. “Oh, Mr. Lancer, we were alerted to an attack here. We just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Edward steeled himself and forced his emotions to remain hidden from her dissecting gaze. “And I do appreciate that. But, I do believe that the attack is over now. Am I correct?”

Her smile strained a bit, but she was quick to cover it up. “Yes, that ghost boy must have captured it. And we’ll be out of your hair as soon as we have him” Madeline attempted to step past him, but Edward moved to block her. Edward started to feel his temper slip and by the looks of things, the same could be said for both Jack and Maddie.

Edward crossed his arms and let out a breath to attempt to calm himself down. “I see, and is this ghost boy an immediate threat to the safety and wellbeing of the students?” 

“No, but he’s up to something,” Jack answered with fake enthusiasm. He was grinning from ear to ear, but somehow it seemed more like a baring of teeth. “We just know it. We need to capture and interrogate him, maybe do a bit of ripping apart if we can, and figure out what he’s up to, right Madds?”

“Exactly. We’re so close to figuring this out, and now we have him cornered. This might be our only chance for months. So if you would please excuse us-” She forcefully pushed Edward out of the way and along with her husband, began to march down the hall towards the room where he had left Phantom in.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I-”

Madeline turned her head to face him, the same perfectly condescending smile on her face. “Doctor Fenton.” She corrected.

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.” Edward nearly shouted. Every shred of subtlety was stripped from his demeanor. The pair froze in their steps and whipped around to face him. “The agreement here was that you lend aid when needed. That you help when a ghost attack threatens the lives of our students and staff and leave when the threat has passed. The agreement was not that you use this school as a trap to corner and shoot down children based on a hunch. You have no authority here, the only reason you are able to hunt the ghosts that attack here is because we allow you.”

Madeline’s entire face turned red with fury while Jack stared down to the ground, barely suppressed rage clear on his face. Madeline marched forward towards Edward and spat out her retort like venom on her tongue.

“The reason we are able to hunt the ghosts who attack here is because we are the world's leading experts in ectoplasmic behaviour, biology, and most importantly for this case, extermination. It is not just a hunch. You’ve seen firsthand what he’s capable of and yet, he still has you fooled. Though with what I’ve seen of your intelligence, that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. That thing is extremely dangerous and could turn on us at any moment. Can’t you see, he’s using all of us for his sick-”

“That’s enough.” Edward cut her off, face deliberately cold and expressionless. He looked down at her with the intent to instill the same feeling of insignificance she had given him.

She stomped her foot, seeming like a stick of dynamite with a fire almost to the base of the fuse. “No, I don’t want to hear any of your-”

“Please exit the building. If you don’t in the next five minutes I will contact the authorities. The same goes for if I see you lurking in the parking lot or circling the building.” 

And just like that, the flame sputtered before finally going out. She glared at him with a look that could break the bravest of men, turned around, and marched towards the entrance, followed shortly behind by her husband.

He watched as they passed through the door, entered their abomination of a vehicle, and left before he let out a relieved breath of air. If it were up to him, those two wouldn’t be allowed to enter school grounds, ghost attack or not. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. He continued on his way to the nurse’s office, grabbed a roll of gauze, disinfectant, and whatever else seemed useful, and made his way back to the classroom he left the phantom in.

He just couldn’t understand some people. Yes, it was good to be cautious, but never to this extent. To attack a child for a crime you have no proof he will commit, it was the coward’s way out. There had only been two instances where the phantom had been reported doing anything immoral, and both had been proven to be falsely incriminating. The Fenton’s had even confirmed this, however reluctantly they were to do so. It was extremely unjust, not to mention selfish, to attack Amity Park’s greatest ghost defence on nothing but baseless accusations and prejudice.

Edward forced himself to calm down. There was no use in getting so upset, especially now that the cause of the frustration had left. He reached the door of the room he had left Phantom in, took a deep breath, and opened it.

Phantom was nowhere to be seen.

He stood there for a minute, frozen, unsure what to do, before calmly looking around the room for the missing ghost. All he found in his search however was a sheet of notebook paper, torn at the edge with just two words written on it.

Thank you. 

He supposed he should have expected this. After all, he had never heard of anyone before ever getting that close to the phantom without capturing him first. It would make sense that he would flee to take care of his own wounds rather than stay to accept help. 

He left the medical supplies in the room. Just in case.

[whumpinthepot]

Hamster Interactive Story

Chapter 16. Rescue

Prev - Masterlist

Content: giant/tiny, cages, pet trope, power dynamic, home invasion, guns, death threat, fear of heights, being mocked

Pov: Soap Scrub

Poll Winner: Pet liberation rescue

Note: The last chapter ended up being over 7000 words so I decided to split it into two parts so there will be another chapter after this one :)

Special thanks to @alittlewhump for helping me edit <3 thank you

ART, WRITING, AND POLL UNDER THE CUT!

—

The weeks blur together with no chances to escape. You’ve almost stopped trying. Ashley doesn’t leave any cracks or openings to even think about slipping past her. You’ve stopped looking for them, too tired to keep up with being constantly alert. 

The days are mostly the same. Ashley spends a lot of her time at work, and when she gets home she usually coddles Hamster and leaves you alone. Thankfully. Maybe she’s gotten bored of you, only using you for her photoshoots. You’re just another prop to her.

Sometimes she brings friends over who all coo over Hamster, and often torment you. None of them will help you either. They don’t seem to like your bitter attitude. That’s not how pets are supposed to act apparently. 

You can’t tell if you’re successfully talking Hamster into freeing you, or if she enjoys keeping you locked up as much as Ashley does. Every time you mention anything Hamster shakes her head and stares at you with that stupid love struck smile on her face. You would think you could use her crush to your advantage, but so far it just makes her more reluctant to let you go. Being mean to her doesn’t work either because it puts you on Ashley’s bad side, and you end up being isolated. So you opt with trying to get Hamster to side with you. 

You’re afraid the plan is a lost cause, but all you can do is keep working on getting Hamster to help you. She’s interested in meeting more people your size, so that's what you usually tell her about in hopes she’ll get curious enough to go with you someday. 

Tonight is like any other. Ashley has Hamster cuddled up to her on the couch while they watch a sappy romance movie. You’re as hidden as you can be inside the cage, but admittedly you’re also watching the screen from an angle since the t.v. is in view from the kitchen counter. 

The movie is interrupted when there’s a knock on the door. Ashley gets up to put Hamster away in her cage, walking over to answer it.

The door flies open, almost hitting her as she springs backwards. Three masked strangers rush into the house, surrounding her. One of them grabs her from behind with a gun pointed to her head, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Scream and we’ll shoot,” they hiss into her ear. 

Shit. Shit. Shit! 

You nestle down further into the bedding, but you have nowhere to go if they want to grab you. It's hot and suffocating. You feel like you can’t breathe under the weight of it smothering you. 

Looking through the haze of the fluff you see Hamster staring openly with no cover. Making herself an easy target with her mouth gaped open in shock. She doesn’t move. She makes no attempt to hide herself at all. 

Stupid girl! 

She takes a breath to scream and your whole body clenches, trying to ready yourself to be noticed.

When Hamster shrieks, Ashley struggles and begs them to leave Hamster alone. Ashley is immediately shoved out of sight by two of the humans while the third looks to see where the source of the shrill scream came from. 

The intruder walks up to Hamster’s cage, and when they see her they pull their mask down to reveal a pale freckled face. Concern written all over it. “Hey. Shh, it's okay. We’re not here to hurt you. I’m here to take you somewhere safe.”

Hamster scrambles back, tripping over fluff. She reaches her arm out towards the room Ashley was forced into, and looks back to the human while bawling. The message is as clear as usual, that Hamster wants Ashley. 

“She’ll be okay. I’m sorry you can’t see her, but they won’t hurt her. I need to know where the other boy your size is.” The human makes no moves to give Hamster what she wants. 

Hamster’s wide eyes flick towards your cage, and she shakes her head. It’s too late, the human already knows that’s where you’re hidden and peers through the bars to try to find you. Their brown eyes search every corner of the cage as their voice overwhelms you. “Hey. I’m here to help you. Are you in there?”

They must see you shaking because their gaze is concerningly close to where you’re hiding underneath the bedding. You don’t believe them for a second and refuse to move from the spot to let them know where you are. 

One of the other humans pokes their head out from the hallway, and says, “They’re in the cages. Just the two.” 

You’re a fool to think you could go unnoticed at this point. Dread trickles throughout your body, and you have nothing to grab onto to steady yourself. Nothing but white fluff between your fists. 

The human next to you nods once, just a flick of their chin, then picks up both of your cages by the handles at the top. Your stomach churns from the sudden shift of gravity. You cover your mouth with your hands to stay quiet, but Hamster has other ideas. She’s wailing pitifully and the human’s words of reassurance do nothing to stop her. 

You’re both royally fucked. 

Ashley scares you, sure, but you know how much worse it could be. So, so, so much worse. Ashley can be cruel, but she’s not sadistic. Horror stories flash through your mind of humans who inflict pain for fun, and a rush of dizziness has you seeing stars. Suddenly the thought of staying with Ashley doesn’t seem so bad compared to what could be. 

The human takes both of you into the back of a van and places the cages down gently onto one of the leather side seats. They sit on the floor with their legs crossed, eye level with you and Hamster. They take their toque off, and underneath they have a curly blonde mohawk. ”My name is Ratty. I’m here to take you somewhere safe,” they repeat those words: Safe. 

It’s grounding in a way, being promised safety, but your skepticism has your heart pounding. There’s no way what this human is saying is true.

The van starts rumbling, and you’re being driven away that moment. The other two people are in the front seats behind protective glass, so its just Ratty in the back with you. 

The human in front of you already knows you’re in the cage, so you decide to face your fears and show yourself. You throw fluff away from you, and come out with the most defiant glare you can muster while your heart hammers against your chest painfully. “Let us go!” You growl, “You have to let us go, let me out of this cage!” 

“I promise I will. Hold on. Let me take a look at this.” To your surprise, they grab the lock that's on the cage door, looking at it lazily. “Are either of you hurt anywhere?” 

You shake your head instantly, in fear that this human might want to touch you with prodding fingers. You look over to Hamster to see if she answers the same, but she doesn’t answer at all. Instead she just stares in horror, stuck in place by fear. It’s that same look that made you protect her from that mouse. The same look that got you into this mess in the first place. 

You’re trembling, but seeing her even more terrified face prompts the next question. You ask it for her, to ease some of that panic, but you’re curious enough yourself to want to know. “W-what did you do to Ashley? Is she uh… Okay?” 

“She’ll be fine. No one hurt her,” Ratty says, almost sounding bored. 

“Why did you do that?! Are you the pet liberation?” You draw your hands into fists to stop them from shaking, “How did you find us?”

Ratty stops fidgeting with the lock and sits back to talk. “Yeah, we’re basically pet lib. Something like that. I saw your picture on her blog. It was hard to miss.” 

“Are you actually going to let us go?” A lump forms in your throat and you find it hard to swallow. 

“If that’s what you want, I promise I will. We can drop you off somewhere if you have a place to go. Or we can take you to a shelter if you don’t, but you can’t go back to Ashley, or you shouldn't anyway.” 

You frown slightly, testing. “What if we did go back?” 

Ratty shrugs, staying frustratingly vague. “I wouldn’t suggest it. Why? Do you want to?” 

“No,” you say flatly, “but she might.” 

Ratty looks to Hamster who’s now curled up weeping in the corner. “I understand,” Ratty says, “Are you two close? You and Hamster?”

Hamster nods just as you’re about to say no, and you realize there's a possibility of the two of you being separated. You don’t trust this human enough to take Hamster anywhere by herself, and you have no idea what they would do with her. “Yeah, she’s with me. So you can let us go together and I’ll take care of her. We’re not going back to Ashley.”

“Alright. Is there a place you want to go?” 

You think of a known landmark that's close enough to some people you know, and request that. An apartment building in town that you know the name of. 

“That sounds great,” Ratty says, distractedly, “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I want to get you some supplies first, maybe some clothes. You’re both half naked, and from what I'm guessing she’s never been outside before…” 

You ask again with a frown, “How do you know all this?” 

Ratty shrugs. “Ashley posts a lot on her blog. Look, I really don’t feel comfortable dropping you two off on the side of the road with no supplies. I’m sorry, you’ll have to hang tight for a bit while I get you some from the store. We’ll be quick. Anything you want?” 

You glare at Ratty, but they’re right. Especially if Hamster decides to be difficult during the commute to your group of people. “I want a knife,” you start off with, testing. 

“Sure.” Ratty types that into their phone and looks at you expectantly, waiting for the rest of the list. 

You’re stunned at how seemingly compliant this human is, still feeling skeptical. You throw out a few more suggestions, wondering if there would be a catch to the request. “Hair ties, this size.” You hold out your hands to demonstrate. “Fabric, thread, plastic wrap, matches.” You list a few things from the top of your head, then add, “doll clothes.” 

“Gotcha.” Ratty types the rest up, and knocks on the safety glass to the front seat, asking them to stop at a store.

“Can you let me out already?” You ask impatiently. Ratty hadn’t made a move to take the lock off, and you are still trapped in the cage. 

“Uhh… I’m gonna be real with you, champ. If I let you out now I don’t trust that you won’t take off right away and get yourself killed somewhere in this van. I don’t want that on my conscience.”  

Your face grows hot, and you retort, “Do you think I’m stupid?” 

Ratty chuckles, which just adds to your anger. “No. I think you’re scared. Which is worse. I’ll be right back.” They change their shirt and put on a pair of glasses, altering their appearance well enough to not be recognized as the home invader from earlier. 

Light floods the room of the van as the human exits, then the door closes again leaving you still trapped with nothing but Hamster’s blubbering cries. 

You scoff loudly, “Well aren’t they a fucking delight.” You crawl over to Hamster. Her cage is right beside you, but you don’t know what to say. Your nerves are shot, and comforting people makes your skin itch. “You’re not alone, Hamster. Ashley didn’t get shot, she’s fine. So… Take a deep breath. I’m not gonna ditch you.” 

Staring into her cage, you wonder if you can get her busy. “You see that hammock? Take it down and roll it up with some food in it. We’ll need it if that human is telling the truth.” 

When Hamster doesn’t move you start snapping your fingers to get her attention. She startles, then moves sluggishly as if both your lives aren’t at stake right now. You sigh. This is going to be a long week of travel, especially if she slows you down.

Ratty’s back before long with a small bag of goods. “Anything I can help you do?” They ask as they show you everything. The clothes are a cheap brand- a little flashy for trying to hide in- but good enough for now. 

“Give me my knife,” you demand. 

Ratty slips a needle in the cage for you. It will have to do… They also break an exacto blade into manageable pieces for you to use.

The human helps you get all of your supplies ready, and you help Hamster with her clothes through the bars, wrapping her arms and legs in floral tape to keep them protected. You tie her hair back into a fluffy ponytail, and wrap fabric and plastic around her feet for makeshift shoes. The hammock is tied around her like a sash. 

You do the same for yourself and wrap as many of the supplies as you can fit into your own sash to bring with you. Ratty also gives you a tiny glass jar with water in it that you tie around your hip. It's heavy, but needed. 

You’re as ready as you can be and look for the human’s approval to let you go. With the way the human is smugly staring down at you with a soft smile you’d say they were pretty pleased with the way you both look. 

The van stops at your destination, and Ratty asks one more time, “You sure you’ll be okay?” 

“If you let me out of this cage, yes,” you huff. 

“Okay… Hold on. I’ll stand watch for a minute to make sure you’re safe too,” they assure you, and lift the cages out of the van. You have seconds to find your bearings, and watch to see what side of the building you’re on when Ratty sets the cages down next to some bushes. 

Ratty then flips the latches on the bottom of the cages to remove the whole top part of them. “I didn’t need to break the lock after all,” they chuckle. You were so caught up with the lock you forgot how these stupid cages even work. Fear really did cloud your judgement. 

It makes you uneasy how the human is treating this like a joke, but that doesn’t matter. You can practically taste the freedom. Ratty lifts the bars off the cage and you’re free.

You’re free!

You make a break for it. The wind hitting your face like cold water. You Sprint as fast as possible to Hamster, grabbing her by the wrist, running for the first cover in sight. 

Turning the corner you dive under some rubbish. Pulling Hamster against you. Covering her mouth to stop her from screaming. “Shh, don’t make a sound. Stay still,” you whisper, breathing quickly.

The human has their back to you as promised, and you only pray that this isn’t all a plan to use you as bait to find more tinies.

After an agonizing minute, the human leaves, taking both of the cages with them. You warn Hamster again not to make a sound as you take your hand off of her mouth.

She’s shaken but you don’t give her time to recover. You tell her to hold a leaf over her head so you two can run for further cover without being seen by anything that might see you as prey. 

You do the same, grabbing a leaf, and check if the coast is clear before running against the hard concrete along the side of the building. Your thoughts are racing but there’s no time to reflect on them. Right now you can only focus on getting somewhere safer. Your energy is being used to survive this trek. 

It's not long before Hamster starts to slow, and at this point you’re practically dragging her. She’s not used to physical labour, and admittedly you’re quite out of shape yourself from being locked up. You both end up kneeling over panting for breath behind a garbage can. You feel as if you’re about to throw up. “Fuck!” You swear under your breath. “We have to make it inside. It’s too dangerous out here.” 

There are still tears in Hamster’s eyes, which you don’t have time for. You assume this is going to be a constant with her. You wait for her to catch her breath, and continue running until you find a vent that leads to the inside of the building. You pull her in, and find a hole that’s been made to lead into the walls. 

Once you’re inside you collapse against the wall, sliding down against it until you’re on the ground. Your leg is throbbing, and your lungs are on fire, but you’re free. Hamster’s hand is still in yours, and she’s panting beside you. It's a good reminder that you’re both alive. 

Your nerves catch up to you, and you start to laugh. You can’t believe you made it out of that cage. You made it out finally. It’s unbelievably exhilarating.

You give yourself and Hamster a minute to calm down. Catch your breath. Let the shock wear off from everything that just happened before getting up again to continue on inside the building. 

There's pink fluffy insulation along the walls that has been pushed to the side to make an open hallway when you turn the corner. “Don’t touch that stuff,” you tell Hamster without an explanation. 

Hamster leans away from it and keeps holding onto your hand while you take her down the hallway. Eventually you reach a makeshift ladder that goes to the second floor of the building, with little ramps along the way to take breaks on. You never thought you would miss such a shoddily made structure. It's made out of various things: nails, wood, string. “We have to climb up this,” you tell her.

As soon as Hamster looks up to see how high it is she shakes her head and slowly backs away from it. Your jaw clenches in frustration. “I know you’re scared of falling but you have to.” Hamster doesn’t move, and her face crumples while she shakes her head harder. You can’t believe this is where she draws the line. 

Pinching your nose, you take a deep breath. You’ll have to wait this out until she’s ready. It’s probably the best time to take a break anyway- a proper break that is- now that you’ve at least made it inside. You sit down and do an inventory check while talking to her. “We can’t stay here all day, got it? You’ll be fine, just don’t look down and keep one hand on the bars at all times. Get ready to do that soon.”

Hamster curls up and begins crying again. Deep heartbroken sobs that wrack her whole body into uncontrollable tremors. 

If she really won’t do it, you’ll have to leave her for a night or two, and go get help. You would rather not though, it still isn’t entirely safe here. Especially with someone as naive to this world as she is.

When her sobbing doesn’t clear up you squeeze your eyes shut, really not wanting to be in this position. You’re not left with a lot of options, so eventually you sit down beside her and put an arm around her. “It’s okay Hamster. Really.” You hate this. 

Hamster looks at you, glasses fogged up on her tear stained face, then she grabs you into a hug. She pulls you against her and cries into your shoulder. You freeze, then slowly hug her back, tighter than you expected. You’re still shaken up from the whole experience, but you would never admit that you’re glad she’s with you. 

If you can calm her down, then you can convince her to follow you up that height. You wait for as long as you can, then get up. “Are you coming with me? At least try. If you really can’t do it you’ll have to wait here. Alone. If a rat comes by you’ll be screwed, so make your choice,” you tell her and give her one of the needles to defend herself with.

You don’t wait for her to hum and haw on a decision, and instead start to climb the ladder by yourself. Halfway up you look down to see her standing at the bottom, jumping from foot to foot as if trying to convince herself to follow you. 

To your astonishment, she slowly- one step at a time- starts to climb up the ladder after you. Thank god. 

It does take a lot longer than you had hoped. There's a lot of crying and freezing up, but she eventually climbs up with some coaxing. Once she’s at the top, you pull her onto the platform that leads to the second floor of the building. She hugs you tightly, trembling like a leaf, but you can tell she’s relieved to have made it. 

After a few more hours of slow travel you finally make it to a fenced in area that has a door with a latch to keep it closed. The area is large enough for a few people your size to camp out in with a roof over it. 

“We can sleep here tonight. It’s built to keep rats and stuff out of it so we’ll be safe,” you explain and drop your sash, grateful to have the extra weight off your leg. “Let’s see your hammock.” You help Hamster untie it and roll it out, collecting the food from it to put in a pile for dinner.

You feel uneasy being in a cage for the night after finally escaping one, but realistically you know the difference. Maybe it’ll calm Hamster down by being familiar to her. You’re both exhausted and don’t make much conversation while chewing on some dried seeds. Both of you are thankful to be sitting down, and done travelling for the night. 

—

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[marlynnofmany]

Finger Talking

Captain Sunlight had said that these clients didn’t speak any trade language she’d ever learned, and as I caught sight of the two intelligent being who looked like the end result of what happens if hummingbirds nudge into anteaters’ ecological niche, I didn’t find that hard to believe.

They were green-feathered, flightless birds, with long beaks, longer tongues, and clawed feet dexterous enough to type out messages on the big keyboard they had laid out on the ground. It looked like the kind of thing I would have danced on as a kid. I pretended that I wasn’t imagining doing that now, as the shorter of the two sent a message onto the display screen that they wanted to haggle.

Mur stepped forward, tapping my ankle with a tentacle to say he had it covered. “Oh, you want to pay more? Double price, please.”

The beaky birds were of course grumpy about this. The short one typed quickly in a fashion that I was amused to realize was hunt-and-peck.

I looked down at Mur, who was cheerfully braiding grass with two tentacles, and waving several others like he was conducting an invisible squid orchestra. He was enjoying himself.

The screen beeped that the message was ready. It read, “We know our rocks are valuable to you. Ten barrels of your rocks for each barrel of our rocks.”

Okay, I hadn’t actually known the price that had been set ahead of time for this little exchange. These folks didn’t use standard currency, so when they sent out a request via random traveler for someone to bring them coal — something that was scarce their planet — in trade for shiny rocks that they had in abundance, Captain Sunlight had gone for it.

And if the rough gemstones bedazzling the cart that these birds had come in were any sign, we were about to make a very good deal no matter what the exchange rate was.

Mur said, “Two for one is already pretty generous. I’ll raise it to three, how about that?”

The birds conferred with each other briefly, making noises that echoed like someone trilling their tongue down a long tube — which was a pretty accurate description of what was happening, really. The short one typed in a reply.

I caught a glimpse of “8 for 1” before the alien technology did what technology everywhere does best: it failed unexpectedly. The screen spasmed wild patterns before going dark, and no amount of punching the keys made it light up again.

“Hm,” Mur said to me. “This could put a crimp in things. Maybe we should call Coals or Trrili?”

“They mostly do written translation,” I said. “And Trrili doesn’t strike me as the tactful sort.”

Mur twirled a tentacle to say I’d made a good point, while the birds tried to revive their tech with no luck. “I guess we just throw out numbers until we hit on something they look happy with,” he said. “This is going to be rough.”

“It shouldn’t be too bad,” I said. “At least they’ve learned the language, even though they can’t speak it. Honestly, I’ve had worse conversations before my vet training covered Gorilla Sign Language.”

He looked up at the unfamiliar word. “Nationality?”

“Species. Long story. Remind me to tell you about Citizen Animals on Earth.”

The birds were starting to disassemble the keyboard casing, using their claws like precision tools (though the tall one gave me the impression that more vigorous smashing was an eagerly-anticipated Plan B). They looked up when I stepped forward, holding up fingers.

“Five for one.” I flicked the fingers one at a time to count. “Five of ours, for one of yours.”

They caught on immediately, and luckily for all of us, they had the right number of talon-fingers to make this primitive conversation work.

Mur was no help, standing two steps back and holding up excessive numbers of tentacles, entertaining only himself. The birds and I managed to ignore him.

We settled on seven-for-one. I could have pushed for six, but I felt bad for them, and anyway I knew that we had the coal already portioned out into fourteen crates. The math was easier this way.

As we walked back toward the ship, to start bringing out the crates that Blip and Blop were unloading at the door, Mur chuckled beside me. “That was fun. I want to come up with ways to communicate like that more. Maybe cheating at table games.”

“I’d offer to teach you some actual sign language,” I said, “But everything I know is designed with fingers in mind.”

“That’s okay. I don’t need proper language to beat the scales off Eggskin. C’mon, it’ll be great. I’ll win several rounds in a row, they’ll get annoyed and demand to know how, I’ll explain, then refuse to give any winnings back. Perfect plan. Great times.”

I had to smile at that. “We’ll see,” I said. “First let’s finish the actual business.”

“Yep, yep, can’t forget that,” Mur agreed. “Maybe we’ll play table games with expensive rocks as tokens, like the high-society snobs we all are.”

“Sounds like great times to me,” I said.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[comicaurora]

Out of curiosity, how far ahead are you on the comic? I mean, you must have it all planned and written out, but I imagine that you are drawing the future of Aurora even while we're reading it.

So is Arc 2 already illustrated and ready for upload while you're on like Arc 5 or something? I'm by no means undermining your need for a break; I'm shocked that you've been uploading continuously for over 4 years at this point. I'm just interested to know how long it takes a person to make something this great. And also if you change any details in the final edit?

Basically: what's the workflow like?

Also I think you low-key inspired me to pick up painting as a hobby. I'm ready to pour so much money into creating things that I know I'll hate. :)

God, arc 5? That's a very generous assessment of how fast I can draw!

Typically, when the comic is updating regularly, I keep a buffer of 10 to 20 completed pages. Right now, in the interest of taking a break, the buffer is 0 completed pages.

Chapter 1 of Arc 2 is completely storyboarded, meaning it's sketched out, the dialog is all mostly finalized barring last-minute rephrasements, etc. It can be read in its current form, it just looks unpretty. In fact, just for fun, here's a sneak peek!

In the next month I'll go through and finalize as many pages from this chapter as possible - which means locking down the panel borders, fleshing out the backgrounds, lining, shading, coloring, polish, etc. - which will be the process of building up a new buffer for when the comic starts back up again in January. During that time, I'll also be storyboarding Chapter 2 and as much of the following parts as I can manage.

I have the next several chapters and sub-arcs planned out in loose timelines - event A happens at location B leading to consequences C and D, stuff like that. Chapter 2, being the closest, is a little more fleshed-out, with a more detailed bullet-pointed timeline and various character ideas I've had that might or might not make it into the final version.

What exactly the chapter breakdown is going to look like is a little more complicated. Initially I'd planned for Chapter 1 to be low-stakes downtime and Chapter 2 to quickly kick off the high-octane adventure again, but when I started bullet-pointing out the stuff I wanted to do in Chapter 2, I ended up with a big pile of slower-paced character moments I thought were well worth exploring, so the runtimes might stretch a little.

Translating those brainstormed notes into storyboards and dialog is what I would classify as the "writing" part of this process. It happens at an erratic pace largely determined by the whims of whatever muse decides to get me in a headlock that day; sometimes I go weeks with no storyboarding progress, sometimes I hammer out fifteen pages in one day.

It's kinda like weaving, to me. The soon-to-be-arriving parts of the story are the most finalized, the most densely woven. A little ways beyond that, things get looser - some patterns may be locked down, but the actual work that'll hold it together hasn't been done yet. And in the far-flung future arcs, it's just the basic bones of the story and a pile of the threads I've planned to use. I know the shape of it, but in order for it to be fun and engaging for me to make it, I need to give myself room to be creative when I'm putting the whole thing together.

I actually have a file called the "Toolbox" that contains every random character or subplot idea I've had, and sometimes when I'm debating where to go with a chunk of story, I'll crack it open and scan through to see if anything jumps out begging to be used. Lotta fun stuff in there that may or may not ever see the light of day. Dropping stuff in the Toolbox is one of the most fun and freeing parts of the process for me!