#the mystery is why i keep coming back to play their shit

[usomads]

Hi 🌚 first time request from a friendly reader!

Could you do a Damian Priest as Santa smutty one shot? 🤭

Masquerade // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hi, I saw this wayyyy too late for Christmas so instead we’re taking on New Year’s! This one is soooo long (my bad) but I really love this idea and hope y’all do too. Happy reading!

Plot -> A mystery man and a mystery woman cross paths for the first time, or is it? 

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hickies, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Papi Kink, Unprotected P in V, Public Sex, Creampie, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.4k

Sounds of bass thumping instantly filled your ears as you walked towards the entrance of the large house in front of you, wearing a shimmering gown that hugged your curves in all the right ways. You had been invited to a New Year’s Eve party by your best friend, Damian, but this wasn’t just any party. The host this year evidently wanted to switch things up so instead of the typical New Year’s party they decided to go with a theme, which was why an intricate silver mask adorned your face and hid your identity- the theme was masquerade. You reached the steps, pulling your phone out of your clutch and checking your texts, seeing a message from Damian sent about 5 minutes ago:

“I’ll keep an eye out for you tonight. I know you well enough that a mask won’t hide you from me 😉”

Your thumbs pressed the screen typing out a witty reply, but before you could press send your screen turned black. Shit, you cursed to yourself. You stared at the dead phone in your hands for a moment, thinking back to your preparations from earlier in the evening and scolding yourself for not thinking about putting your phone on the charger before you came. Shaking your head, you slipped your phone back into your clutch and headed inside, showing the invitation to the security at the door. The house was insane, you had never stepped foot in something so nice before, and the fact that you were here without Damian made it all the more nerve-wracking for you. Nothing a drink can’t fix though, right? Your eyes scanned the room looking for any sign of alcohol and spotted a bar at the other end of the room, adjusting the mask on your eyes and walking to it. The room buzzed around you, groups of people talking amongst each other, people dancing in the center, and music playing loudly over the speakers. You reached the bar and sat down, ordering a glass of champagne and watching the party around you until your eyes locked on a figure standing across the room from you, holding a glass of champagne himself and leaning against a pillar. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like a century and you swear the party surrounding you fades entirely, almost as if it were just the two of you. Seeing no sign of Damian anywhere and feeling bold, you stood up from the stool and walked over to him, your hips swaying as he continued to stare you down.

“You know, people either hide in the shadows because they’re looking for something or they want to come off as mysterious. So what might you be hiding?” You grinned at the man in front of you, teasing him with your words. He laughs, a smirk lining his lips as he speaks.

“A bit of both,” the man sipped his drink before continuing, “I could say the same about you. Are you always this bold, or is the mask talking for you?” 

You lean closer to him, lowering your voice. “Maybe it’s the mask… or maybe I’m just intrigued.”

“Intrigued, huh?” His finger traces the fluke in your hand, maintaining eye contact with you. “You might be too curious for your own good.”

A playful look crosses your face as you lean closer to him, your lips brushing his ear. “I’m just getting started. But if you don’t wanna play then…”

He laughs, clearly amused. “Who said I didn’t wanna play? I’ll go as far as you let me… so long as you can keep up.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can. But can you handle me?”

The tone in the man’s voice changes, laced with something deeper. Desire. He leans in, his arm brushing yours as he whispers in your ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart. I’d be careful if I were you…”

“Maybe I like a bit of danger,” your voice rang low in his ears, daring him to make a move. And he did, scanning you from head to toe before extending a hand for you to take. You obliged, wrapping your fingers around the rough surface of his palm as he guided you to the dance floor, pulling you closer to him as those same hands found their way to your waist. The heat radiates between you as your bodies sway to the beat of the music. 

“You’re not too bad at this,” you smirk at him.

“Not bad? I was hoping for resounding praise.”  His tone teases, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Alright, let’s not get carried away,” you laugh softly.

“What if I want to?” His eyes lock onto yours and send a shiver down your spine. All of a sudden, it’s just the two of you in this room. You realize you’re completely drawn to him in this moment, drawn to the mystery of the man before you. The thrill and the danger ignites something deep inside you, something you weren’t expecting to feel tonight. You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the crowd roaring around you, counting down to midnight. A fire burns between you with every count down to zero, and the mystery man you’ve been accompanied by all night leans down to you, his lips hovering over your own.

Five. “I think I have to kiss you.”

Four. “You think?” You tease.

Three. He tilts your head by your chin, his lips dangerously close to brushing yours.

Two. The electricity between you is intense, the anticipation growing with each passing second. His eyes are dark as they start into your own, flickering between them and your lips.

Before the last second he closes the gap between you, kissing you with a passion that takes the air out of your lungs. The kiss is deep, intense, and filled with something that you clearly can’t deny as you finally part, leaving you both breathless and momentarily stunned. 

“I never caught your name,” he smiles. 

“Why don’t we start with the masks?” You laugh, nerves slowly take over as you respond. The both of you hesitate momentarily, reaching up to remove the coverings from your faces, a slight nervousness overtaking you. Shock sets in instantly as you slowly reveal your identities to each other, realizing you knew very well who had captured your undivided attention all evening… in fact, you knew too well.

“D-Damian?”

“Y/N?” Damian smiles, a soft chuckle erupting from his chest. “I can’t believe we didn’t realize sooner, some friends we are right?” 

Your soft smile falters slightly, unconsciously dropping at the mention of you being just friends. Your mind was in a daze, having trouble wrapping your head around the fact that the man who drew you in so easily, captivated you, consumed your thoughts all evening– made you crave him in more ways than one was, in fact, your best friend. Suddenly you didn’t want to hear him call you his ‘friend’, and maybe that’s something you’ve been trying to suppress for a while, but now it was impossible to ignore. 

“Yeah…” you mumbled, “friends.” Damian’s brows furrowed at your sudden change in demeanor, his smile also faltering in an attempt to read you.

“Y/N…”

“I need some air...” You brushed past him quickly, retreating before he could follow you– leaving him alone on the dance floor.

After wandering around the house for a while, trying to find somewhere secluded, you stumbled upon a private balcony. You stepped outside, the cool and crisp air pricking your skin instantly as you held onto the railing and tried to calm your breathing. Tears brimmed your eyes as you replayed the events of this evening in your mind, from the conversation to the dancing to the kiss. The kiss. How could you not have known it was Damian? How could you have let this happen? And why did you want it to happen again, and again, and again? 

Damian’s words replayed in your head as a stray tear landed on your cheek– no. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t hide anymore. You wanted Damian, and tonight solidified it. And for a moment, when neither knew who the other was, you knew he did too. You knew he felt it too– that spark, that desire, that need. It was in the way his lips brushed against your ear as he teased you, in the possessive way his hands would find your waist, in the way his lips found yours with such passion and need. And now that you were no longer behind a mask, it was back to ‘just friends’. Back to ‘normal.’ But you knew it would never be ‘normal’ again.

“Y/N,” you were pulled from your thoughts by Damian, who from the sound of him catching his breath sounded like he had been running around the entire house trying to find you. You wiped your face, trying to hide that you had been crying, and spoke up.

“Leave me alone, Dames.” You refused to look at him, staring out at the garden below the balcony, trying to distance yourself from him.

“Y/N, please, talk to me.” He reached for you, his hand brushing your arm, but you swatted it away and turned towards him.

“I said leave me alone, Damian.” Your voice was more stern as you turned to face him, your eyes tinted with red and giving away that you had been crying. Damian’s worried gaze softens as he notices, a pang in his chest growing as he knows he’s responsible.

“Y/N, you know I can’t do that–”

“You’re gonna have to.” You tried to move away from him but he stops you in your tracks, searching your face.

“No! No, Y/N, I won’t. Something’s bothering you… was it the kiss?” You grow quiet, looking down at your feet as to try to avoid having to discuss it but Damian doesn’t let that happen. “Was the kiss not good? What’s going on, Y/N? Please, talk to me. I wanna know what’s wrong…”

“No, the kiss was great. I mean–” you shake the thought out of your head, trying to correct yourself. “The kiss was fine.”

“So what’s the issue? I–” Damian’s face lights up as realization hits him.

“That’s the issue, Dames. It shouldn’t have been that good. We’re friends–”

“But you don’t want that…” Damian studies you as you grow quiet again. He lifts your chin and your eyes flutter closed, not wanting to look at him. “And I don’t want that either.”

Your eyes open at his confession, wide as they search for his. If your head wasn’t spinning before, it sure was now as you tried to make sense of what was happening. He’s not serious, right?

“I am,” he chuckled. Shit, did I say that out loud? Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he continues. “I’ve felt that way for a long time now… I don’t want to go back to how it was before, Y/N– I don’t think either of us want to.” “But you sa–”

“Fuck what I said,” he whispers. “I’ve been hiding how I feel for too damn long. Being with you tonight, albeit under a mask, was the best night of my life…” he thinks about his words, almost reminiscing the events from earlier as he spoke. “To be able to kiss you, flirt with you, touch you how I’ve wanted to for so long… I’ll be damned if I give that up. And something tells me you don’t want me to either.” He eyes you carefully, watching as you take in this revelation from him and, in his mind, pleading with you to feel the same.

“I don’t…” you mumble, your voice lower than a whisper– nearly inaudible.

“I can’t hear you, darling, tell me what you want.” He lifts your chin again, wanting to hear what he’s been dying to hear for months finally fall from your lips. 

“You, Dame,” you whisper, a little louder than before. “I want you.”

His lips crash into yours hard, making you stumble backward and hit your back on the railing of the balcony. You hiss at the cool metal touching your skin, allowing him entrance and his tongue to dominate your mouth. His hands find your sides, turning you around and pulling your body into his. His mouth finds your neck just under your right ear, sucking and biting on the skin as one arm keeps you pressed against him– his hardening cock grinding on your ass, and the other dancing up your spine and finding the zipper of your dress. He slowly drags it down your back, his fingers sending chills throughout your body and a familiar ache to your core. 

“D-Dames,” you moan quietly, his mouth pressing wet kisses along your jaw, “S-someone could s-see us..”

“Let them.” He growled in your ear, “I’m not leaving this party, this balcony, until I get what’s mine.” You whimpered, his words sending a pool of wetness to the place you craved him most. You let the dress pool at your ankles, now topless in only a pair of lace panties– the cool January air hardening your nipples upon contact. You instinctively cover your breasts, feeling completely exposed to not just Damian but to any potential onlookers vying for a show. 

“Uh, uh,” Damian’s hands removed your arms from your chest, “you don’t get to hide from me anymore, you understand? I wanna see you, all of you.” You nod, letting your arms drop to their sides and allowing him to take you in completely. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. I’m in awe of you, baby girl.” You blush for what seemed to be the millionth time this evening as he reconnects your lips, slower and more passionate than the last. Damian wanted you to feel what he felt for you, packaged up in a singular kiss, as his lips massaged yours deeply and lovingly now. He began to work down your body, dropping to his knees to come face to face with your throbbing core– dripping and aching all for him. 

“Sweetheart, you’re a mess… who’s got you like this, hmm?” You whined, involuntary bucking your hips towards him in an attempt to get him to touch you. 

“Please…”

“Gotta answer me first,” he smirked below you, loving how needy he had you. How you were completely and utterly his in this moment. 

“You…” you mumbled.

“Louder, darling, I can’t hear you.” Cockiness oozed from his voice, knowing he had you right where he wanted you and that you– nor anyone else, could take that away from him.”

“Y-you, Dames, fuck– please. I need yo– oh fuck.” Your eyes roll back as his tongue licks through your folds, placing open-mouth kisses along your pussy as he hiked one of your legs over his shoulder and ravaged you with his mouth. His tongue swirled along your entrance as the tip of his nose brushed your clit, sending volts of pleasure coursing through your body. You held onto the railing of the balcony behind you, keeping yourself as balanced as you could while Damian was eating you so good your knees were beginning to give way. Damian moaned against you, the sweet taste of your wetness settling on his taste buds and driving him to taste more of it. Your orgasm inched closer with every flick of his tongue, every moan that vibrated against your throbbing core, and you were a blubbering mess for the man on his knees before you who had every intention of worshipping your body like the temple it is– but not yet.

Damian pulls away suddenly, almost knowing you were on the brink of release as you cried out in response, pleads for him falling from your swollen lips.

“Shhh, don’t worry, baby, I gotchu. Papi’s gonna take real good care of you, I promise. But right now, he needs his pussy…” you shivered once more, somehow growing more turned on than before at his words. Him claiming you. Making you his. “Is that what you want, baby? Want Papi to fuck you good, right here where everyone can see how good you look all fucked out for me?”

“Dames, please…”

“Use your words, princess. Let Papi know what his baby girl needs.”

“I–” Your words caught in your throat, overwhelmed by the prior stimulation and the smooth but sinister way of his words. “I w-want you to fuck me, Papi. Please…” With a sudden movement Damian spins you around, bending you over the railing as your chest presses against the cool metal. Behind you, you hear the sound of him undoing his belt and dropping his clothing to the ground, joining them in a pile with your dress before feeling his hard member tease your entrance. 

“Tell me you need me again, baby, please.” His demand almost sounds desperate, like he himself is holding back his own moans at the thought of you desperate for him.

“I– I need you, Dame. Please, baby, please fuck me. Right he– mmm…”

He slips inside you with a moan of his own, groaning as he feels your walls tighten around his length. He slowly pushes himself deeper inside you, allowing you to adjust but also loving the cries coming out of your mouth as he stretches you around him.

“Fuck, Y/N, so tight f’me, baby… shit. Taking me so well, sweetheart.” Your pussy flutters around him, a groan slipping from his lips as he slowly pulls out and thrusts himself back in, going slow so he can pay attention to how tight your walls are squeezing his cock– but also how your face contorts with every movement of his hips.

“F-faster, please..” And that was all Damian needed, a signal that you were ready for more of him. His hips sped up movement as he thrusted into you from behind, the force jolting your body with every snap of his hips as you cry out in pleasure. His hands hold your hips for leverage, kneading the skin roughly enough that surely bruises would form by tomorrow morning– but you didn’t care. You were drunk, not on champagne but on the feeling of his cock inside you driving deeper and deeper into you, a feeling of euphoria that you never wanted to escape. A hand of his came forward to your clit and rubbed slow circles on the swollen bud, making you instantly tighten around him and cry out his name for all who could possibly hear it. You were close, there was no denying it, and you were prepared to coat his length in your desire for him– only him, and he knew it too.

“I feel you, princess. Go ahead, cum for me. Wanna feel you, baby.” Your release washed over you with force as your body grew limp, your orgasm consuming all the energy left in your body to give to Damian and Damian alone. Your pussy clenched around him as he continued to buck his hips inside you, the sounds of his thrust mixed with your juices echoing outside as he approached his own release.

“Y/N, f-fuck, I’m close, baby girl… gonna fuck this pussy full of my cum… shit.”

“C-cum for me, Papi, let me have every last drop. G-give it to me…” You whimpered in between thrusts and not long after he followed suit, releasing ropes of his cum along your walls and filling you completely– just like he said he would. He brings you upright and wraps his arms around you, holding onto you as his orgasm hits him and finding your lips once more for another passionate kiss. The two of you stay there for a moment, lips locked and fully exposed as you ride out your orgasms together. A few moments pass and your position remains the same, but your attention gets drawn to the grounds below– where guests are leaving the party and heading home for the evening. You stare at each other, wide-eyed, and laugh– collecting your clothing and dashing inside so as to not get caught by any of the guests.

“So, my place?” You smile and nod at Damian, who merely an hour ago had been a stranger in a mask but was now no longer a mystery. You didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, shit, you didn’t know what would transpire after you leave here but one thing is for certain: now, there’s no hiding it.

[steveseddie]

jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours

for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: jacket | rating: t | wc: 999 | tags: post-canon, steve wears eddie’s leather jacket, they kiss about it

read on ao3

Eddie can’t find his leather jacket.

Steve is picking him up soon and he can’t find it. He turned his bedroom upside down looking for it (pun absolutely intended) and even riffled through Wayne’s clothes in case the old man grabbed it by mistake (he didn’t).

He concludes he forgot it somewhere and racks his brain for the last time he remembers wearing it. He thinks it was last week when he yelled at Wheeler for almost spilling soda on him at Steve’s house. Did Eddie take it off and leave it there by accident? Or did he have it on when he drove home?

He’s still trying to figure that out when there’s a knock on his door.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters, jumping to his feet. “Coming!”

He doesn’t want to keep Steve waiting and risk missing their movie so with a sigh, Eddie grabs a denim jacket instead.

“That’ll do,” he says, checking himself in the mirror before opening the door to reveal–

Steve in his leather jacket.

“Hi, Eds,” he says, wiggling his fingers.

Eddie tries not to swallow his tongue but Steve is wearing his jacket and he looks hot. He’s pretty sure he’s had a few fantasies that start like this.

“Uh, hey,” he says once he finally gets his brain working again. “I was looking for that.”

Steve looks down at himself like he just remembered what he’s wearing. Like he forgot he put on Eddie’s leather jacket. He shrugs. “You left it at my house the other day.” And- well, mystery solved but that doesn’t explain why he showed up wearing it.

“So, it’s yours now?” Eddie asks, narrowing his eyes even if he doesn’t care. Steve can keep it if he wants, he looks better in it anyway. “First you steal my vest and now my jacket, Harrington?”

A smirk stretches over Steve’s lips. “Maybe I just like wearing your clothes, Munson,” he says in a teasing tone. A flirting tone- Eddie has heard him use it with girls at Family Video.

“Besides,” Steve continues because Eddie is too flustered to think of a comeback, “I didn’t steal your vest. You gave it to me. Threw it, actually.”

“And you never gave it back!” Eddie protests. “After I let you borrow it to protect your modesty!”

“Please, man,” Steve snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. His shoulders and arms are significantly bigger than Eddie’s so the movement pulls on the leather. Eddie would care more about Steve stretching his jacket if he wasn’t so busy ogling him. “You did it so you could stop staring at my chest.”

Eddie gasps, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. He knew he wasn’t subtle that night, but he thought Steve would be too busy surviving to pay attention to Eddie’s eyes drifting to his bare chest. And after that, when they became friends and Eddie started tragically crushing on Steve, he tried to be more careful.

And apparently failed.

“I– uh. It was like, right there, dude,” Eddie stammers out. “And you– you got a jungle there and I–”

“And you like it,” Steve finishes for him.

Eddie winces. It’s not what he was gonna say but it’s the truth. He could deny it, but he can already feel a blush creeping up his face, coloring his cheeks.

“Is– is that a problem?”

“Eds, my only problem is that you haven’t done anything about it,” Steve says with a low chuckle, reaching out to play with one of the pins on his denim jacket. “I actually considered showing up in just your jacket, but Robin convinced me it was too much.”

Eddie squeaks. That would’ve been too much for his heart to handle, that’s for sure.

“I don’t know if I should hate Buckley or thank her,” he says, shaking his head to wipe that visual from his brain. “I probably would’ve shut the door on your face.”

Steve laughs, shoulders scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the corners. Eddie is struck by how beautiful he is, and how much he wants to kiss him.

“You can, you know?” Steve says, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts and making him realize he said that out loud.

Then he realizes what Steve just said. “I– I can?”

Steve’s grin is amused but sweet. “Yeah, Eddie. I want you to.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie swallows thickly.

Then he grabs hold of the jacket and pulls Steve inside, the door swinging shut behind them. As soon as they’re out of view, Eddie pulls Steve in by the back of the neck, kissing him squarely on the lips.

With a content noise, Steve cards his fingers through Eddie’s hair, deepening the kiss, crowding him against the wall.

They kiss until they need air and even then it takes a lot to pull back from Steve’s mouth.

When he does, Steve smiles at him– his lips pink, his hair mused, his cheeks flushed.

“What?”

“You should keep it,” Eddie says, smoothing the jacket over. “It looks better on you.”

Steve purses his lips. “I happen to think you look really hot wearing it.”

“Jesus,” Eddie mutters, tugging a lock of hair across his face, feeling his blush coming back at the compliment.

“But do you know where it would look better?”

“Where?”

Steve smirks at Eddie, his eyelashes fluttering coyly. “Your bedroom floor.”

Eddie’s breath hitches, something warm shooting through him. “What– what about the movie?” He asks. It’s a stupid question, but his brain might be melting out of his ears. Steve raises an eyebrow– Really? “Right, never fucking mind. Who cares? Come here, sweetheart,” he says, taking Steve’s hand and dragging him towards his room.

The leather jacket comes off first and it ends up on the floor. Eddie couldn’t care less about where. It could get sucked into the Upside Down along with all of his clothes and it wouldn’t matter to him.

Not as long as he gets to keep kissing Steve.

[impyssadobsessions]

DPXDC Prompt: Amnesia Danny learns a lot more about himself than he ever did before.

Danny ends up with amnesia after a recent ghost fight that landed him straight into the Kent's family farm.

He had no reason not to believe he must be an alien too- from Ma and Pa's reactions to his powers to his acceptance into hero circle.

That is until he met Jon's friend Damian- who recognized him immediately. Was he not from space? Despite his love of stars- if he wasn't from space then where did he come from?

When he slowly discovers more and more of his past nothing makes sense. What version of his past is true? Who was he? Why did so many people claim to know him?

He hoped he can figure it out soon before a war develops between fractions that lay claim to him.

(not demon twins but perhaps siblings ;3 or some secret third thing) Below just continuation of my thoughts I posted on discord ;3

Just makes me think the more Danny learns something else throws a wrench into! Like- Imagine he starts learning about the LOA and what Damian knows- then bam GIW are claiming Danny's hero persona- to be Phantom.

And everything keeps going down a rabbit hole.

Even ghosts or perhaps the ghost he was fighting that caused this confronts him to- or to the media at large. Revealing something else to him. Perhaps it was dan or a version of- or its Plasmius

Or a new ghost entirely with ties to that.

Or could add ghost king to really mess with stuff- and its Pariah wanting his crown back.

Just so many ways to make this into a shit show.

Danny's friends and sister getting involved too- happy to see Danny safe- but Danny just confused.

His brain hurts and he's at a lost at who he is.

Even worse if his dna did show him as part alien. So his world is flipped on its head even once he remembers himself- or the part of himself he knows the most.

I think it would be a fun idea to play with. Creating more and more mystery. And by the time Danny gets some idea- something else happens.

LOA is pissed, GIW are too- Ghost problem is ramping up - everyone wanting to take claim to Danny and Danny just wants to know who he is and how stop the fighting.

But imagine Danny getting acceptance from the league- and maybe they finally get answers who Danny's parents are- why does he have alien dna Danny actually going through puberty with his powers same time as his accident so he never knew and imagine Danny saves the world and becomes into himself. He still doesn't have all the answers but he has enough to know WHO he is- and he's not going to let others taint that image for him.

He's sure he'll find out more as time comes but for now- he's who he strives to be. it definitely be such a big ass story but it would be fun to play with different identities maybe a few red herrings if you want to be extra- but i think just even knowing all of danny's identities be interesting. how people have perceived him to what he actually has done and was. maybe before they use slade to make respawn they experimented with another hero dna or an alien dna in general that was unfortunate to cross their path- and the two grew up together- but found Damian's compassion towards the other as a hindrance. maybe booster gold or impulse know danny from the future due to time travel and/or how he was seen. or if anyone from bad time line before traveling back only remember Dan. ewe luckily Ma and Pa kent supporting Danny through this and protecting him- bats too

So he isn't all on his own but he's certainly confused.

Imagine they help him the most in accepting who he is.

[r0-boat]

Whb Cats headcannons

Enjoy just screwing around.

Sfw cutting for length

Satan (Turkish Angora)

Has Zoomies at 3:00 a.m. There are many nights when you wake up and try to fall asleep and then hear a crash in your kitchen. You cover your head, pretending that you didn't hear it. before hearing another crash in your kitchen.

Use to scratch up all your furniture It took you months to finally move him to scratching at cat trees and scratching posts. He goes through him like crazy but at least it's not your furniture.

You put a camera around his neck because you thought it would be cute You were shocked to find out that your cat outside the house is a little menace to society digging up people's gardens, and bullying other cats. You decided to keep him inside for a while.

Mammon (Maine Coon)

Once, he somehow got out and came back with $100. You don't know where he got it. Your eyes widen, and you check to see if it is even real because you honestly couldn't believe your eyes. The last time he got out, he mysteriously brought back more money. Now, you just let him do as he pleases, hoping he brings back more, and he does. That's why he gets the more expensive cat food.

He's a big boy, but he's just a little lap dog. The moment you sit down, he's in your lap. If Satan or any other of your cats take your lap, no worries, he'll either sit on the side of you or sit on them uncomfortably until they move.

You watch him and Satan fight all the time. It could be just playing if it weren't for the fact that both of them were hissing and growling. So you thought Satan hated his new friend but then you were surprised to see them cuddling together on their half torn up cat tree... To this day you don't know if they like each other or hate each other.

Leviathan(Snowshoe)

He was labeled as an aggressive cat from a shelter you frequent for volunteer work. He seems to tolerate you the most so you are co-workers suggested that you keep him. He follows you around but keeps his distance. Every time you look you see him stare back. When you try to encourage him to come over He just runs away.

It took him a while to warm up to you. Now he's literally a shadow no matter where you are he will be in the same room as you acting like he's always been there, and that he's totally not following you. He only lets you pet him. Only you pet him. He gave poor Minhyeok a good scratch on his arm when he got a little too close to you for comfort.

He only comes to you when you least expect it and when you don't want him! When you're trying to do work suddenly he's all up in your face getting all up on your computer. Or if you have company he will be all up over you or trying to hiss and growl at whoever came into your house.

Beelzebub(Bengal cat)

Just fucking showed up at your house He must have snuck in somehow because you caught him sleeping in your warm laundry. You have no idea where this cat came from and the fact that he is a bengal scared you that is an expensive cat that's an owner must be looking for. But there was no one who recognized him so I guess he's yours??

He wants to go outside again but you didn't let him until you got him microchipped and collared and you're so glad you did because he would leave for hours. Only coming back when it's time to eat. But the weirdest part is when you would always find him when you're outside of your house?? At the grocery store? He's fucking there in the parking lot! At a friend's house a couple streets away? He's scratching at the door wanting to be let in because he knows you're in there!

This little shit steals your food. You had to get child locks on everything because of him! For a cat so smart you can't believe how stupid he is as you find him in the weirdest positions or napping spots. Or just manage to catch him running into a wall at full speed, trying to jump only to not make any traction. Scratching at his reflection, somehow getting on top of a high place in your house, real orange cat stuff.

Lucifer (Norwegian Forest)

Obsessed with licking you. Like grabs your hand and starts grooming you profusely. If you move away he'll try to lick something else. He always tries to go for your hair.

Once he starts laying on you he always starts purring. You don't have to pet him He just starts purring. Especially when he knows you're sick he will sprawl on top of you and just purr as if he's trying to help you feel better.

Along with Mammon probably one of the more chill cats you have You can pick him up carry him and he'll just sit there purring. True gentle giants.

Belphegor (bobtail)

Sleepy boy. You love this boy so much He doesn't cause trouble, He doesn't knock over your things or hiss at your guests. He doesn't come back with dead rodents in his mouth or do anything weird outside. He is a simple boy. He sees a Sunbeam and he sleeps.

It is always a treat to walk into a room and see him sleeping in the most weirdest way possible on any furniture he can. And when he is out he is out He scared the shit out of you once because he felt limp when you tried to wake him up. You've seen along brown haired cat around when you let him nap outside in here backyard... Must be his friend.

Every time you see him actually awake and walking around that's when you remember you have another cat. He tolerates you waking him up and pestering him with your kisses and hugs and baby voice. He loves it even though he looks like he hates it.

Asmodeus (Chantilly Tiffany)

You have gotten so many messages from neighbors about this little every time he manages to scamper out he gets another poor cat in the neighborhood pregnant. You are not rich enough to pay cat food child support for another family who's poor female cat is going to have kittens. Sometimes he'll just bring you kittens from who knows where. You already have Seven cats So you frequently have to go next door to check if the kitten is theirs.

Somehow knows what you're planning because every time you want to take him to the vet he just so happens to disappear... You have not been successful yet.

Other than that he's a very loving cat. Actually he's one of your go-to for introducing children since He surprisingly super good with children. He's very gentle and almost protective.

[gothcsz]

Dangerous Woman | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~9k wc | Part 2 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier does something that warrants a second visit.

Tags: stalking, lots of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (we're taking it raw), some plot snuck into the porn (sorry not sorry), spanking, light slapping, slight breeding kink..., some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, we're altering canon timeline just a bit, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: primas (gn), we're back to being delusional! thanks so so so much for all the lovin the boy is mine got like i'm on my knees for each and every one of u fr 🧎🏽‍♀️ hehe i do plan on posting a final part to wrap this up btw. love the dynamic between these two 🖤 did javi match your freak?! did he match your nasty?!

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

You quit going to his apartment entirely. He expects you to meet him there again, and while the urge to return and take things all the way is enticing as hell; you keep yourself from doing so.

Well, technically, you did go by one time and that visit was the reason why you swore the rest of them off.

You watched from the front seat of your car, further down on the other side of the street, as he rested his forearms against the railing; a lit cigarette between his lips while he stared off into the distance.

Your handsome man who somehow looked sexier under distress. Even from how far away you were you could see those defined, prominent wrinkles between his brows.

He was waiting for you. Looking out into the city and wishing that you were prancing your way back to him.

You wondered then if that was a new ritual of his. If he stood out on his balcony every night in hopes of seeing you again. It made your heart soar and goosebumps to erupt along your skin. 

But you want to drive him crazy with your absence, to have him question if what happened that night in his bedroom was as real as it felt. Gaslighting himself into believing it was all just a dream, something his conscience had made up to relieve him temporarily of the hardships of his job.

Part of the sick enjoyment you get comes from your cat and mouse game, with you being the gamemaster. The one who sets the rules and decides when plays are allowed to be made.

You want him to be vigilant, to shine a light against every shadow that crosses his path in hopes that it’s you, the sexy little thing that’s been preying on him for longer than he knows. 

You want to edge him with the anticipation of your next move.

This move won’t happen until further down the line. Things have been tense in the circumstances that overlap both of your careers. Government distrust grows more and more by the day, the drug traffickers get richer by the second.

You just haven’t had the time to follow him as thoroughly as you have been.

Which is why you sunk your claws into someone in his inner circle, a Neil Stoddard that works directly beneath your agent. It had taken you a few tries, causally bumping into him at the market or during a morning jog, until enough rapport was built and you finally convinced him to feed you information on DEA operations.

He was hesitant at first, but you’ve been told that you can be very persuasive; always knowing exactly what to say, which cadence to use and how to shift your body language to match the conversation. Showcasing your skill, you manage to get just about every little detail that you can from the younger agent before anyone else.

It benefits you both in your career and in your efforts to keep tabs on him.

You wonder if he thinks about you in the same way you do him. Does he constantly replay that rainy night in his head? Does he fuck his fist and close his eyes to think of you, the mysterious woman who broke into his apartment just to get on her knees for him? Swallowed his soul in its entirety and then disappeared off into the night?

Fuck, you hope so, because with each day that passes–– you fall deeper in love with Javier Peña.

You’re walking home from work one day, an extra pep in your step at the good news that one of your projects from graduate school is being looked at by some big name publishers back stateside. The excitement of getting your work published by a well known and reputable paper further inflates your ego and the passion that you have for your career.

So you decide to buy something nice for yourself, a materialized pat on the back for being so good at what you do. You enter a quaint antique store that’s nestled in the small plaza a few blocks from your apartment building, eyeing some of the merchandise they have on display.

You’re contemplating whether you want to purchase a set of stained glass table lamps when a distinct glint catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

You turn to see a beautiful engagement ring on display behind the glass counter, its shimmer immediately drawing you to it. You set the lamps down carefully, walking over to the counter to get a better look at the piece of jewelry.

The ring’s silver band is elegantly slender. Intricate filigree work adorns the outer surface with delicate patterns of vines and tiny flowers that spiral gracefully around it. 

At the center sits a stunning marquise cut diamond, its facets catching the light in a soft, romantic sparkle.

You stare at it in awe, imagining it around your finger after he slips it on, still on one knee, while those captivating brown eyes of his stare up at you in nothing but pure love and adoration.

His fiancée. His wife.

Calling the attendant over, she happily lets you try it on incase it needs to be resized.

It doesn’t. It fits just right, making your hand look very lovely. You wriggle your fingers, giggling as it catches the light.

You purchase it, obviously, having her place it in a small, velvety box that you slide into your bag as you thank her for her help; leaving the shop just to walk a few stores down to where they sell lingerie.

There, you buy a new outfit–– this one much more risque than the leather dress that’s neatly tucked away in your closet.

With a small dent in your account, your career on the path of blossoming, and your delusions for him reaching another peak; you go home and plan your next move.

Stoddard tells you about the raid planned to capture Miguel Rodríguez and the fake out involved, since the last time they had targeted him–– bureaucratic bullshit had gotten in the way and prevented the arrest. Something involving the man hiding in the walls and a DEA agent using a sledgehammer to get him out.

Apparently there’s a mole within the Colombian government that’s making it hard to bring the narcos to justice. What’s new? Amidst all this, he mentions how the boss is going to stay behind while everyone else in the department travels to Cali.

This bit of information piques your interest but you keep your reaction neutral. The velvet box in your bag is burning a hole through the leather, reminding you of its existence. You haven’t worn the ring since you tried it on, saving it for the perfect moment.

Like the one that’s just manifested itself.

You get the details of this operation, specifically paying attention to the times so you know at what pace you’ll have to work with.

If your calculations are correct, he’d be all alone in the office well into the night.

You’re an adrenaline junky, clearly, since the idea of sneaking into a government building just to seek pleasure from the DEA attaché has your entire body crackling with electricity.

You thank him as you go your separate ways. The raid is in two days, which will give you more than enough time to get prepared.

Getting ready mellows you out entirely, the only nerves you feel are those of excitement at the prospect of seeing your agent tonight. You’re currently in the bath, your favorite candle lit and on your second glass of wine.

It’d be a massive win for him if they’re able to follow through with the plan. Two of the head honchos in cuffs and behind bars, even if it was the lax walls of a Colombian prison.

Surely it warrants some kind of reward. You did tell him that he’d see you again whenever he did something that was worth your presence. Worth your body.

It could have come sooner, but between the disappearance of Guillermo Pallomari, Christina Jurado’s kidnapping and then Franklin Jurado’s death; fate had other plans.

He just couldn’t catch a break. For his sake, you hope they’re able to get that motherfucker tonight.

Finishing up in the bath, your skin is smooth like the delicate petals of a flower and you smell like a candy shop, all hydrated and plump and ready to be ravaged.

You go through the motions of doing your hair and makeup, this time aiming for a bolder look.

Sharp cat eye liner, classic red lip, thick lashes. You want to mimic the sultry models you see in the high-end magazines.

Dolling yourself up for him is part of your foreplay. You enjoy watching your own transformation, going from a steadfast journalist to a seductive minx at the wave of a makeup brush.

Would he find you attractive? Not your feline alter ego but the real you. The one that camps out in her car more often than not to stalk him, fast food wrappers littering the seats. The woman who broke into his apartment and masturbated using his pillows. The woman using his subordinate to get information about him and his highly classified work operations.

Would the illusion break after so many encounters? Would the allure of your salacious activities dim until that fire is completely smothered with the reality of what you’ve been doing?

Would he even want you if he knew the truth?

You stare at your reflection in the vanity mirror, not even realizing your eyes have glazed over with tears at these thoughts. Your heart aches at the nonexistent rejection.

No, snap out of it. Now is not the time to be thinking of this shit.

Shaking your head, you swiftly get your act together and change into your outfit for the night.

The lingerie set is the epitome of classic elegance with a sexy edge. It consists of a bra, panties, and a garter belt, each piece meticulously designed to celebrate your natural curves and skin tone.

The bra is a balconette style, the cups a luxurious black lace with intricate floral patterns, sheer enough to tease yet opaque enough to leave some things to the imagination. The underwire provides a gentle lift, enhancing the shape of your breasts, while the straps, adorned with tiny satin bows, add a touch of femininity.

The matching panties are a cheeky bikini cut. The front panel is made from the same black lace as the bra, with a subtle scalloped edge that sits gently against your hips. The back is a sheer mesh, offering a tantalizing glimpse of skin with a small satin bow at the waistband. Your ass looks so good.

The garter belt is the pièce de résistance, tying the entire set together. It sits high on your waist, cinching in to create an hourglass silhouette. Four straps extend down, each finished with satin ribbon accents to hold up your thigh-high stockings securely.

You add the accessories: diamond earrings gifted to you by your grandmother, your simple black stilettos and finally–– the ring you purchased at the antique store.

Now in front of a full length mirror, you can’t help but run your hands all over your body. Fuck looking like the high end models from Vogue–– you resemble a god damn Playboy star; sexy enough to warrant your very own centerfold in the magazine.

Maybe you should invest in some bunny ears. Try and be a conejita for one night.

This is what you’d wear on your wedding night, you think, eyes not leaving your reflection as the ring twinkles beneath your bedroom lights. You wouldn’t even wear it in white, the black lace an homage to the erotic start of your relationship with the DEA agent. Your husband.

Your cat mask sits on the bed, right next to your polaroid camera. After you finish eye fucking yourself, you crawl onto the matress and slip it on; obscuring your face in the sexiest way possible.

With all the fuckery he’s had to deal with as of late, you decided you were going to leave some souvenirs behind. A few visuals for him to look at during lonely nights instead of lolling around on his balcony like a neglected puppy.

You begin taking the photos, contorting your body into different erotic positions, getting the best angles. It all comes to you naturally, you’re good behind and in front of the camera.

After a dozen or so snaps of your tits, your ass, your thighs and some cheeky ones of your pretty cunt, you let them develop and take the mask off, putting on a basic satin slip dress to hide your lingerie. 

You were going to be out in a more public space, you didn’t want to risk something happening and for that to leave you basically naked in the streets of Bogotá.

Tossing your belongings into your bag, you drive to the embassy, parking around the back to keep your vehicle hidden from any prying eyes. How ironic. 

The familiar trench coat sits on your shoulders, tied close to keep your naughty outfit out of sight. Your bag hangs from the curve of the inside of your elbow, the kitten mask nestled at the bottom, just waiting for you to don it once more.

In this moment, you feel like one of those cliché romance tropes: surprising your husband at work with skimpy clothes under a fucking coat.

You snort at the realization, but you’re kind of loving this.

When you push open the door to the building, you notice how quiet and empty it is. At the large front desk, an older officer straightens his posture at your entrance.

“Identificación, por favor.”

You bite your lip, praying to god that this works, and dig into your bag to pull out your press lanyard. It has your name on it, what paper you work for along with a photograph that was taken your first day on the job.

You hand it over and he eyes it then you suspiciously, taking in your done up appearance.

“I’ve got some photographs developing in the lab here. Lost track of time at the office which is why I’m stopping by so late. I’ll just be in and out, no worries.” You explain in English with a gentle lilt, hoping that your status as an American will sway him into letting you up.

He hands you back your lanyard. “I’m not supposed to let anyone who isn't employed here in after a certain time. Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana.”

Your eye twitches in annoyance at the denial, your skin prickling with frustration.

You have to see him tonight. No matter what. This senile idiot isn’t going to stop you.

“I didn’t want to do this…” You begin with a sigh, leaning forward against the desk and your coat opens up just enough for him to get a good look down your cleavage, “But I’m also here to visit my fiancé, mi prometido.” You bring your left hand up for him to see the ring that adorns your finger, “He’s been having some tough days and I wanted to surprise him. I’m sure you know him. Javier Peña.”

Now this gets his attention, snapping his gaze from ogling your cleavage to meet your eyes.

“Ah, si, Javier Peña. El jefe de la DEA.”

You nod, seeing his resolve dissipating, and he lazily waves his hand, signaling that you’re good to go up.

“Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche.”

Fuck. Yes. Your nerves morph into excitement as you step into the elevator, hitting the button that goes to his floor.

Pretending to be his to a complete stranger has put you further into a mood, feeling your pulse quickening at the idea of doing it again. Of deceiving the world, warping reality to play into your delusions of being happily engaged to a man who doesn’t even know what you look like.

The elevator comes to a stop, the silver doors opening up to a narrow hallway with various rooms and offices on either side. If you recall correctly, his is further down the hall which is perfect because you need to set your belongings down before making your grand entrance.

You find a place for your things behind the stairwell door, knowing that’s how you’re going to make your escape tonight. You didn’t want to walk past the security guard again and you didn’t want to give him enough time to chase you down into the elevator.

You strip the satin dress, stuffing it into your bag and leaving you just in your undergarments. The polaroids you took are nestled into an envelope and put into the pocket of your trench coat once you have it back on, pulling out your mask and gently bringing it over your face. You apply one final stroke of red lipstick and slip the mesh gloves over your fingers before sneaking your way down the hall.

You press your back against the wall, the tap of your heels muted due to the carpeted floor. Fluttering your eyes close, you force your brain to focus on sound— trying to discern if he is here alone or if he has company.

After a few minutes of listening, you come to the conclusion that he is alone so you just barely poke your head around the corner, eyes scanning the dark room.

It looks like a typical office. Desks sprawled about, a bigger one at the front which you assume to be the secretary’s. The usual fluorescents are dimmed, bathing the room in a transparent darkness.

Across the space is his personal office. It looks like a giant fishbowl at the end of the room, giant windows lining every wall. The blinds are open, giving you a good view of him sitting at the edge of his desk, the phone pressed up to his ear while his large hand nurses a glass of his favorite amber liquor, the familiar cigarette hanging from pointer and middle finger.

You hum diligently. How is he always so fucking handsome?

With catlike suaveness, you move across the room and closer to his office, noticing that the door is ajar, giving you the opportunity to listen in on the call.

Your eyes flit up to the analog clock that hangs on the opposite wall. They’re about to move in on Miguel. 

The tension of this moment, the pure suspense does nothing but aid you and your sexual desires. Whatever news he gets, whether it’s good or bad, you’ll be here to console him… with open arms, and open legs, and an open mouth.

Now that you’re closer, you get a better look at him in his typical work outfit. Rolled up white button up, midnight blue slacks and a loose tie. You wonder if he took off the jacket recently or if he’s been walking around like this for a few hours.

Small details like that matter to you. 

You can’t make out the garbling coming from the phone, but you do see the way he exhales and how his shoulders drop. He closes his eyes letting his wispy lashes fan across his skin. Tension rolls off his body in pure relief as he hears that Miguel Rodríguez has finally been arrested and Salcedo was able to get his family safe. 

He returns the phone to the receiver after a few moments, his thick fingers dragging along the plastic and the simple action has a puddle gathering in your panties.

Standing, he makes his way to the large window that overlooks the downtown area of the capitol, the bustling nightlife illuminating the black night sky.

His back is to you, much like the first time you did this dance, smoke from his cigarette curling around him as he takes lengthy drags in self reflection.

You just watch him, once more under his spell while you remain crouched in the shadows.

He’s been through so much, you know this. All the shit with Escobar, getting into bed with drug dealers and murderers just to catch him, only to be taken off right at the end then returning to finish off Cali. 

God that must have been so… depressing. You wish you would have known him then, before the job molded him into more of a cynic.

You just want to comfort and hold him. To love him with every molecule of your existence. 

Don’t worry, mi amor, I’m right here.

With that, you make your appearance, slowly standing and opening the door further.

The shift in the air at your presence has the hairs on the back of his neck standing and he turns his head to the side, catching your silhouette from his peripheral.

“Hola, gatita.”

His voice is smooth and it drips straight to your clit.

“Hey handsome.” 

You close the door behind you, leaning against it as he fully faces you. His brown eyes scan you from head to toe before he moves to sit in the large chair behind his desk, stubbing out his cigarette against the overfilled ashtray.

“You know…” He grunts out, resting his forearm atop of his head lazily as he leans back, “I prayed tonight’s operation would play out as planned. Not because of the metaphorical nail in Cali’s coffin, but in hopes that the win would lure you out.”

“Is that so?” Your heart is racing at his words and his evident craving for you. You try not falter as you slowly make your way around his office, shutting the blinds as you go.

There’s six windows. You’ve got five more to go.

“Mhm,” he hums, glossy eyes following you around the small space, “I just got confirmation that Miguel is in cuffs. On his way to Bogotá. And not even a few minutes later… well, here you are.”

“Here I am…” you flirt, moving on to the next window.

Then the fourth… third…

“How did you know?”

Only two more until you’re secluded in a little bubble of privacy.

“Call it a woman's intuition.”

His jaw ticks, not liking the answer but also not making a fuss out of it. Yet. He wants to enjoy you tonight, to become the keeper of time so he can drag out the hours and devote himself wholly to you. 

He’s missed you entirely too much. It’s a different feeling, this yearning that nips at him. Hardly ever does he think twice about the women he sleeps with.

But there’s something about you and how you popped up in his life so suddenly. How you turned his world on its head.

A kitten size hole has been left in his heart since you left him on his bedroom floor like a toy you weren’t interested in playing with anymore. 

You finish shutting the blinds, turning to face him as he manspreads himself out on his leather chair, rubbing his palm along his clothed thigh. It makes you want to pounce on it, to rub your wet pussy all over him in the same way you had gotten yourself off on his pillow.

You can practically feel his muscles contracting, the slight flex snapping a sharp orgasm out of you. 

“How are you going to thank me tonight, gatita?” His demeanor is vastly different than last time; he’s exuberating some of that dominance you know he possesses.

You remain silent, your gloved hand digging in the pocket of your coat as you pull out the envelope with your pictures in it, bringing it up to teasingly wave around.

His name is neatly written in cursive against the paper and his brows raise in surprise. He hadn’t expected an actual, tangible token of appreciation.

“This is for all your troubles. I know how hard it’s been in your world recently.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that. Granted, anyone can observe that his job is fucking difficult without knowing the specifics.

But it’s the way you said it, as if you know more than what you should.

You place the envelope in between your teeth, some of your red lipstick smudging against it as your gaze remains locked on his. Your hands make work of the belt that’s kept your trench coat closed, tugging at it until it’s undone. 

The air is charged in pure lustful electricity as the fabric falls from your shoulders and pools around your feet.

“Congratulations on your arrest, agente.”

The grip on his whiskey glass tightens, golden eyes turning an onyx color as he drinks in your scandalous appearance like a man who’s been denied the basic necessity of water his entire life.

“You’re killing me here, bebita.”

You giggle, scrunching your nose beneath the mask and the sound of your flirty laugh has his lips pulling up into a small smile. 

“Come closer. Let me get a better look at you.”

You comply obediently, placing one foot in front of the other before he abruptly stops you.

“Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez.”

Oh shit, your legs turn into jello at the command and immediately you fall to your knees, feeling the scratchy carpet through your stockings. 

“Good girl. Me encanta cuando haces caso.” He praises and you moan softly, crawling towards him on your hands and knees, the envelope still between your teeth.

He takes a sip of his drink, still lounging and keeping a cool demeanor, yet not relenting with the heavy stare he’s laying on you.

His eyes make out every curve of your body, how the shimmer from your lotion makes you glimmer like a shooting star. If he could close his eyes and make a wish right now, he’d wish to know who you really are.

You stop once you’re in between his legs and he stares at you for a good long minute before leaning forward, finishing off whatever was left of his whiskey and setting the empty glass aside.

His thumb and index fingers pinch your chin, moving your jaw to tilt upward so he can look down into your lovely eyes. The pair he sees every time he closes his own.

“Let’s see what you’ve brought me.”

He pulls the envelope from your mouth, your saliva leaving it damp but he doesn’t give a damn.

He opens it up, eyebrows quirking at the sight of the polaroid photos as he carefully analyzes each and every single one.

You’re hanging on to every reaction he gives, the way his eyes map every inch of your figure and how you photographed yourself for him.

It’s there, in the pictures, that he sees it. The ring. His brows pull together in confusion, his gaze flickering down to your hands that are resting on your thighs.

“Let me see your left hand, baby.”

The statement has a warmth blossoming in your stomach. You’re certain he can see your heartbeat pounding against your chest.

Tentatively you bring your hand up, resting it on his knee. 

He sets the photos on his desk then delicately removes the glove, calloused fingers taking your hand in his as he eyes the beautiful ring.

“This wasn’t here last time… ¿te comprometiste, gatita? Been giving that dirty mouth and pussy to someone else, hmm?” He places a kiss on the diamond, his dark eyes now boring into you.

Your thighs clench together at the intensity of the moment and you shake your head earnestly, wanting to dispel those thoughts from his mind entirely.

There is no one else. Just you.

“No. It’s all for you Javi. I just—” Your words get jumbled up, lost on your tongue as the sexy facade slips for a moment while you try and find the right words to explain your possessive, matrimonial fantasy to him.

“All for me, huh?” He’s getting a kick out of your nervous state, dropping your hand and motioning for you to give him the other as he takes the glove off of it too.

“All for you. I’m yours.” You say in a shaky breath, “This ring… it’s my way of pretending that it’s all real… that you’re mine too.” That you want me the same way I want you.

Silence cloaks the both of you, his face set in an unreadable expression.

“You don’t have to pretend, gatita. It can be real. Just let me see you.” He goes to unmask you again but you turn your head to the side to keep him from doing so.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It won’t be fun anymore.” Translation: I’m fucking scared that you’re not going to want the real me.

“So? We could have so much more fun without all this.” His pointer finger traces the lacey cat ears, “Not that I mind this. It’s sexy as hell.”

You look at him again, seeing the sincerity in his stare but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

“No,” you repeat, a little harsher, “And if you try to take it off again I will disappear and you will never see me again.” 

You rise from the floor, trying to regain some of the control that’s slipped from your grasp. His jaw sets, hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling your body to him until his curved nose runs along your belly.

You gasp softly.

“Tan mala mi gatita bella. Luckily for you I like to work for it.”

He begins to place open mouthed kisses all over your midriff, biting the garter belt and pulling on it so it snaps back onto your skin with a delicious sting.

Your head falls onto your shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his lips. You bring your fingers down to run through his hair, enjoying how silken it is.

His strong hands move from your waist around to your ass, digging his nails into the supple skin while he kneads it, groaning at how soft you are. 

“Didn’t get to touch on this pretty body last time. M’not gonna make that mistake again. Bend over the desk, muñequita. Ahora.” He slaps your ass harshly and you squeal, feeling a fresh wave of wetness soaking your folds.

He relinquishes his hold on you, rolling his chair back to give you room to situate yourself in the position he wants to see you in.

You bend at the waist, your heels making the posture look extra sensual as your breasts press against the wooden surface. 

You hold your breath, anticipating what he does next. 

He gets up from the chair, his touch light as a feather as he traces from the top of your spine down to where the arch in your back is. His hands then go to grip your wrists, moving them so they’re pinned at your lower back.

“Gonna have to keep those pretty pictures on me at all times, gatita. Can’t risk someone else seeing what’s mine. I’d have to kill them.”

His possessiveness further turns you on, and now you want for those pictures to fall in the wrong hands. Just to see how he’d react.

He leans over you, placing kisses on the back of your shoulders, moving your hair to the side to expose more of your flushed skin to him. You turn your head, resting your cheek against the desk as you briefly make eye contact with him.

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You reply and he smirks, kissing the corner of your mouth.

His lips trail down the same path he just traced, working his way down until he’s kneeled behind you, his breath fanning over your sopping pussy.

Your hips twitch instinctively, the pressure between your legs becoming unbearable. You need to feel him on you, whether it’s that sinful mouth of his or those deliciously thick fingers. Something, anything.

As if reading your mind, he brings his hand up to grope your backside enticingly, running his fingers beneath the band of your stockings, your skin feeling like melting butter beneath his touch.

“Been thinking about this since you left me last time. I should have kept you from leaving, should have buried myself in between your pretty legs instead.”

You lick your lips, “Then stop talking and do it.”

He wastes no time in landing a harsh slap against your ass, the skin rippling beneath the touch and you yelp out in both surprise and excitement.

“Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena.”

Another harsh slap, then another, then another. With each sting you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm which is a bit pathetic since he hasn’t even touched you like that and you’re already a buzzing, dripping fucking mess.

Each mewl that falls from your lips urges him to continue until he’s satisfied with the flush on each of your cheeks.

His fingers then move to fist the flimsy material of your panties, harshly tugging it until the thin fabric disappears in between your folds and the slight burn from it digging into your sensitive flesh does wonders for the throbbing at your core.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, bebita, just like I knew it’d be. Look at her, all wet for me. You like getting spanked, don’t you?”

You moan loudly, completely at a loss for words as you nod your head, cheek still pressed to the desk.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Had so much to say last time.” His palm connects with your ass again, coaxing a verbal reply from you.

“Yes Javi, fuck I love being spanked. Love feeling your hands all over me.”

He hums in content, slowly pulling down the ruined underwear off your legs until you’re fully exposed to him. “Since you won’t let me see your gorgeous face, I want you to show off this sweet cunt of yours. Spread her open for me, gatita.”

Exhaling shakily, you move your hands from your lower back until you've got a good grip on your own body, spreading your pussy open so he can see all of you.

For a split second you feel self conscious, not being able to see his reaction as you lay open and vulnerable to him.

That dissipates quickly, however, when you hear his satisfied keen then feel his nose skimming against the plush skin of the back of your thighs, kissing your wrist.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” He repeats your own words back to you, his voice low and deep and fuck are you in love with this man.

His hot, wet tongue licks the length of your slit and you can’t control the noise that you make, sighing his name out. Your skin erupts in chills when he does it again, the coarse hairs of his mustache prickling against your swollen cunt.

“Tan dulce. Dunno how you’re going to pull me off of her.”

And with that, he fully immerses himself in your pussy. He’s desperate, licking every inch of you that he can, savoring the tangy taste of your sex. He sucks onto your folds before hardening his tongue and rapidly flicking the tip against your clit. This has you struggling to keep yourself spread open for him, writhing at his ministrations.

“Oh my fucking god Javier your tongue, holy shit…” You babble, absolutely blissed out as his strong nose nuzzles against your entrance, the tip of it inside of you.

He groans, absolutely pussy drunk, rendering him a scrambled mess as he further buries his face into you, his big strong hands working your thighs, this time actually ripping your stockings.

Making out with your pussy passionately, your arousal drips from his mouth and down his jaw. He pulls back, a stringy glob of your fluids following like a cut open aloe vera plant. His thumb brushes against your clit as he spits onto your cunt, smearing his saliva all over before he slips two fingers inside you.

You clench immediately, crying out his name as his digits stretch you open. “So fucking tight gatita. You gonna squeeze my dick like this?”

Your knees just about give out at the promise of feeling his impressive girth inside of you. You hadn’t planned to actually fuck him tonight, not wanting to spoil the erotic nature of your visits by just giving him your pussy.

But now, as he’s ravishing and fingering you with such vigor and your vision beginning to blur as a sign of your incoming orgasm, you’re back tracking on that decision entirely.

You need him to fuck you. You might just die if he doesn’t.

He curls his fingers at your lack of response, the tips of them brushing up against that spot that makes you jolt, your chest rising from the desk while your thighs tighten.

“Stay put and answer the fucking question,” His free hand moves to roughly push you back down, his mouth joining his fingers on your pussy.

“Fuck yes baby. Gonna squeeze you til I milk every single drop out of that fat fucking cock.” You whimper like you’re in an X rated film, rocking your hips back against him as your stomach tightens. You’re so close.

Content with your answer, he slips in a third finger and harshly sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth, moving his head side to side. That’s enough to have you spill all over him, your body trembling while a mixture of moans and sobs and cries of his name echo out of you like a cock-obsessed woman that needs to be sedated.

Your acrylics dig into the skin of your ass, leaving crescent shaped marks on the flesh.

He continues his relentless assault on your cunt, eating you out through your orgasm. The blood rushing in your ears keeps you from hearing all the filthy things he’s chanting against your skin.

The ring looks so beautiful next to your spent pussy, querida. All mine.

Pulling his fingers from you once you’ve come down from your high, he places a final, more gentle kiss against your clit and you twitch from the oversensitivity.

“Did so good muñeca.” He rises from his kneeled position, the soft sounds of his joints popping having you blink away some of the haziness from your eyes, your body completely limp against his desk.

His hands run along the length of your body before he’s tenderly flipping you over so you’re on your back, the edge of the desk uncomfortably digging into your waist.

Noticing this, he clears some space to make room then lifts you until you’re fully sprawled out on his desk looking absolutely wrecked.

His mustache is damp with your release, lips swollen from him losing himself in the taste of you and drinking all that you have to offer him. Brown eyes remain dark, gaze swimming with longing.

“So handsome…” you mutter dreamily as he hovers over you, his thumb gently caressing the part of your cheek that isn’t covered by the mask.

“I wish you would let me get a good look at you, gatita.” He leans in, kissing your chin then your jaw until he’s trailing down onto the soft skin of your neck.

“Javi…” you sigh out, not only because his lips feel fucking divine but also because you don’t want to have this conversation again.

“I know, I know. You’ll disappear and I’ll never see you again. I got it the first time.”

He cups your breasts in his hands, gently kneading them as he licks down your sternum. He snakes a hand behind you and you arch your back, letting him expertly undo your bra.

The straps are delicately pulled down your shoulder until the garment is completely off, your nipples pebbling as the cool air of his office nips at them.

He wastes no time in wrapping his pouty lips around the sensitive peak and suckling softly. His tongue traces around your areola, grazing his teeth against your nipple which causes you to whine and bring your fingers to entangle in his hair, pressing your chest deeper onto his face.

Repeating the action on the other, he lavishes your breasts with attention from his skilled muscle. His facial hair is an added stimulant to your pleasure and your clit pulsates, body ready to have him inside of you.

You roll your hips, feeling his erection brush up against your naked pussy and your breath hitches in your throat.

It’s then that you realize that he’s still fully clothed while you’re practically naked. The only things that adorn your body are your ripped stockings and the garter belt along with your heels.

Tugging him away from your tits, you bring his face up to yours, noses brushing against each other. You can smell your sex on his lips, so you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself and moaning.

“I need you to fuck me, agent.” Your lips brush against his as you speak, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to you.

His chest rumbles at your request, hands antsy as he caresses and gropes; memorizing all your curves and the feel of your body.

“S’that what my gatita wants? For me to fuck her sweet little pussy?” 

Your answer comes in the form of another passionate kiss with a nod, your tongue intertwining with his then sucking on it softly.  He’s such a good fucking kisser, you could make out with him until your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

He pulls back, quickly beginning to unbutton his shirt in which you assist him, your french tipped nails taking over while he makes work of getting his pants undone and off.

Sliding his shirt off his broad shoulders, you pull him back down to you, lips quickly kissing all over the freshly exposed skin, savoring the warmth radiating off him.

You feel his naked cock pressing against your wet slit and your head cants back, a breathless whimper pushing past your lips while he lets out a deep groan.

“You make such pretty noises, muñeca. Wanna hear them all the time.”

He rubs his plush head against the length of your sopping pussy, collecting the wetness of your arousal.

“Gonna let me fuck this pussy raw, gatita? For all I know you’ve been spreading your legs for half the fuckin’ city.”

Your head spins, body overstimulated by his touch and the words that leave him. 

“Need to feel all of you, Javi. I think about it all the time. No one else. Just you.” You whisper out, once more clenching your thighs around his hips and rolling your own to entice him into slipping inside your tight and needy heat.

He curses, his teasing finally getting to him as he slowly sinks his thick, hard cock inside of you.

You both sigh out in pleasure in unison, your fleshy walls contracting around his length and swallowing him in, almost in the same manner in which your throat had all those nights ago. 

Every part of your body is eager to feel him somehow, your obsession and insatiable craving convoluting your being into nothing more than just something to bring him pleasure.

“Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí.”

He still hasn’t bottomed out and you feel so incredibly full. Your wet dreams have nothing against the real thing. 

“Javiiii, I need you to move. To fuck me hard and fast.” While you know having him rock into you slowly and sensually would feel better than winning the fucking lottery, you need to drop your own self respect and have him take you like the whores he’s so fond of.

He bares his teeth, straightening his posture so he’s no longer hovering over you. He readjusts your legs to sit higher on his waist.

“Was goin’ slow to give you the chance to get used to me baby pero la gatita quiere mas and I can’t help but spoil you, hermosa.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips into yours and you gasp loudly, the burn of him stretching you out adds vicious heat to your already hot cunt.

“Oh just like that Javi please…” you sob as he begins to fuck you just as you asked. Hard and fast. 

“Pobrecita. Can’t even take what she’s asking for.” He fucking pouts, mocking you and you’re certain that you’ve died and gone straight to horny heaven.

The desk moves with every thrust; pens, papers and other items hitting the floor. 

He roughly takes ahold of your bouncing tits, using them as leverage to keep splitting you open on his cock, your arousal leaving a creamy ring against his flesh and the sight has him going feral.

“Fuck this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, querida. So tight and fucking perfect. Bet you’ve never been fucked like this before, huh? S’probably why you came to me. Knew I would take good care of you.”

Your hands grip the edge of the desk, knuckles flushed, to keep you from falling off. The scratchy hairs on the base of his cock brush against your sensitive clit, having you shut your eyes out of pure ecstasy.

You never want this to end.

“Abre esos ojos gatita, you’re already denying me so much by not letting me see your lovely face. At least let me look into those beautiful eyes while I fuck you.” One of his hands leaves your breast, lightly slapping you to get your attention back on him.

As if it ever wavered.

Your eyes blink open, the slight sting across your cheek only bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“D-Do that again.” You plead with a small smirk, squeezing your walls around him and he grunts, slapping your face again.

You moan and he matches your smirk, basking in your reaction.

“Ay nena, eres mi dream girl. Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

His praise paired with the harsh snap of his hips driving his cock deeper is enough to have stars blinding your eyesight as your pussy tightens and your orgasm begins to shoot up your spine.

“Aqui, Javi. I’m right here baby.” Your words slur, absolutely cock drunk.

His torso looks perfectly fucking sculpted, like a god walking amongst men. Different muscles tense and jolt at his movements; you want to bite into his triceps and lick all over his prominent collarbone.

He shifts again, this time throwing your legs over his shoulders and the change in angle has you moaning out like a seasoned pornstar. He places gentle kisses against the inside of your knee, trailing his tongue against the nylon of your stockings before doing the same on the other leg.

This has your pussy feeling tighter and you watch as his own orgasm begins to overtake him.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

Your left hand trails down the length of your torso until it’s at your pulsating clit, the tips of your fingers beginning to rub small circles against the pearl.

His dark eyes fall onto your movements, his tongue running along his teeth slowly.

“Tan hermosa, nena. Look at how that ring looks against your pussy. Do you touch yourself pretending it’s me, tu esposo, gatita?”

You nod, no longer feeling shy about your perverse delusion of belonging to him in a matrimonial sense. “Si, all the time. Think about you coming home to our house and fucking me on our bed. Ay, Javi I’m about to cum.”

His balls clench, jaw ticking as he too begins to slip into this fantasy of yours. “I’d take such good care of you baby. Make sure all of your needs are, fucking christ,” his thrusts stutter, “met. I’d do anything for you.”

And just like that, your orgasm topples over and your back archs off the desk at the intensity of it. Your vision spots, ears ringing as you douse his cock with your cum.

He fucks you through it, muffled words of praise not reaching you since you’re trying to focus on not passing out from pure bliss.

His cock twitches inside of you, feeling you come undone pulling euphoria out of him too.

“Where do you want it, gatita. You better tell me before I cum in this pussy and make you a mamita.”

Oh fuck, while the offer sounds enticing as hell, you know you need to think with a somewhat clear head so you just say, “Cum all over my clit, please.”

You don’t need to tell him twice, he pulls out just enough for the hot ribbons of his spend to messily land on your exposed clit, some of it getting on your knuckles and ring as you lazily rub it in.

He’s cursing up a storm, a tight grip on your thigh as he empties his balls all over your flesh. 

You both are left panting, his cum dripping down your fingers and pussy onto his desk. Blinking slowly, you meet his gaze and bring your digits up to your mouth, sucking them in and humming in content at the taste of your mixed release.

“Sucia,” he spits out before falling to his knees again, giving you no time to fucking react as he buries his face in your freshly used cunt.

“Javier!” You shout, literally shout, as he eats your cum and his out of your sweet pussy. Your fingers shoot down to tangle in his mussed hair, yanking on it without caring if it pains him or not. 

You don’t even realize it but you’re actually crying. The tears falling from the corners of your eyes beneath the mask and onto your cheek.

You’ve never felt this good. Never had a man, or anyone else for that manner, make you feel as sexy and wanted as the agent that’s currently in between your legs. 

When he finally stands, you’re left an incoherent mess and all he does is smirk.

“We taste good, muñeca.”

You whimper, not knowing how the fuck you’re going to recover from this and if you’ll even make it down the flight of stairs that awaits you for your departure.

Javier’s after care consists of placing soft kisses all over you, whispering sweet words to help bring you back to him. He caresses you again, this time being mindful of your over sensitivity.

He kisses along your thighs and tummy then moves up to each breast. His fingers graze along your skin and when he’s finally at your mouth, your lips meet in a kiss that surpasses any of the other ones you’ve shared with him.

Your mask makes it a little awkward at first but neither of you seem to care, too lost in the feeling of the other. It’s sensual and slow, all the unspoken things felt between the two of you being relayed during this interlock.

He pulls back, resting his forehead against the lace and plastic of your kitten mask. Your red lipstick is smeared all over his handsome face.

The lust in his brown eyes has now been replaced with something else that you can’t quite put your finger on, and that’s enough to snap you out of your trance and you gently push at his chest.

“I have to go.”

He scoffs, not moving from over you, “You don’t.”

“I do, Javi.” You say, a little more forcefully, which gets him to pull away.

Your panties and bra are on the other side of the room and you slide from the desk to retrieve them, wobbling as you go.

You’re going to be feeling him for days.

“How many more times are we going to do this? What’s the endgame here?”

You pull your underwear up your legs, cringing at how uncomfortable the damp material feels against your swollen core.

“There is no endgame. We’re just messing around.”

With your bra back on, you move to retrieve your trench coat which means you have to face him now.

He’s leaning against his desk like he had been when you first arrived, pants undone but up on his hips again.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to sneak in whenever you need a good fuck?”

You laugh dryly, crossing the room to get your coat but he grabs you by the forearm once you pass him; halting you in your spot.

“Javier,” You warn.

“You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

You stare at him, wanting nothing more than to rip the mask off and confess to him how much he means to you despite this being anything but a conventional relationship.

As delusional as you’ve tended to be as of late, you know he’s way out of your league. He doesn’t go after girls like you.

Girls that are easy to dismiss and forget in the pouring rain.

“Same rules as last time: you’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

He tightens his grip on your arm and you narrow your eyes.

“Are we clear?”

He’s silent but finally lets go and you don’t hesitate to grab and put on your coat.

You’re so eager to leave that you don’t notice your press lanyard has slipped out of your pocket as you’re making your way to the door.

He stands from his seated position and you brace yourself for yet another attempt at him trying to change your mind.

But it doesn’t happen. Instead, you hear the flick of a lighter and that’s enough to get you to turn the doorknob and leave without another word. 

Javier smokes the entire cigarette to calm his racing heart before he lazily begins to clean up the mess you two made in his office.

He’s lost in his thoughts, all consisting of you, until he spots the lanyard in the corner.

Picking it up, he looks at it quizzically before flipping it over. His jaw tightens once he sees your face, the familiarity of your lips and eyes luring him in.

He’s got a clear view now and it strikes him entirely, heart fluttering as he takes in your appearance. 

He reads your name, as if tasting it on his tongue, and the outlet you work for out loud. He recognizes you from somewhere but he just can’t remember where.

This is going to pick at him like an unhealed scab. But at least Javier knows who you are now.

Of course she’s a reporter. Things are starting to make more sense.

Translations:

Identificación, por favor - Identification please

Lo siento, señorita. Regresa mañana - I'm sorry ma’am. Come back tomorrow

El jefe de la DEA - The head of the DEA

Muchas gracias señor, que tenga buena noche - Thank you very much sir, have a good night

Gatea como lo hiciste la última vez - Crawl like you did last time

bebita - baby girl

agente - agent

muñeca - doll

Me encanta cuando haces caso.

¿te comprometiste, gatita? - Are you engaged, kitten?

Tan mala mi gatita bella. - My beautiful kitten is so bad

Eres una gatita tan traviesa. Voy a tener que domesticarté nena. - You are such a naughty kitten. I'm going to have to tame you baby.

Tan dulce. - So sweet

Goddamn nena te sientes tan rica. Este cuerpecito está hecho para mí. - Goddamn baby you feel so good. This little body is made for me.

pero la gatita quiere mas - but the kitten wants more

Abre esos ojos gatita - open those eyes

esposo - husband

sucia - dirty

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Confessions (Azriel x Reader)

summary: you and azriel are best friends, but his flirting with elain has become too much for you to bear, so you decide to try to move on.

wc: 3k

a/n: !!warning: mentions attempted SA!! This is the first real fic i have written in years so it’s probably shit but if you decide to read this thank u and i love u.

Read Part Two

For months now, you have been fairly upset about seeing Azriel pining after Elain, but even more annoyed that your friendship with him has become insignificant to him now that he spends all his time with her. About a decade ago, you decided that being hopelessly in love with Azriel was pointless since he would never see you that way, so you settled for friendship. It’s better to have him as a friend than not at all… or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. Mor is the only one who knows about your crush and has kept your secret, but not without constant pestering to tell him how you feel.

“He’s in love with Elain, Mor. I’m over it and over him. I’m ready to move on.” You lie as best you can to her and to yourself.

“You’re so full of shit. But fine, I’ll play along. When we go out tonight, you’re finding someone to go home with!” She says excitedly while finishing her eyeliner. Mor forced you to put on a tight, navy party dress that barely covers your ass instead of letting you wear your go-to little black dress.

After she finishes getting ready, the two of you head down to your room to grab your lipstick, but when you open the door to the hallway, you see Azriel and Elain at the end of the hall whispering and standing only inches from each other. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight and turn the opposite direction to head to your room, refusing to look behind you when you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

———

Rita’s was crowded, as per usual. After about an hour of drinks and dancing, you were decently drunk and had forgotten all about Azriel… well almost.

“Can I buy you a drink?” You hear a male say from beside you. He’s tall and fairly handsome, but nowhere near Azriel’s level of attractiveness- damnit you need to get him out of your head!

“Sure. I’ll have what you’re having.” You try to say seductively, but it just comes out awkward. Gods, when was the last time you tried to flirt? He chuckles and orders your drink. Mor gives you a wink from across the bar and disappears into the crowd with a stranger.

After a while of talking, you decide this guy, Mikael, is exceptionally boring, but the night is almost over and he’s your only option. Anything to forget a certain dark and mysterious shadowsinger. Why not try to have fun?

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Mikael whispers in your ear. No reaction. If Azriel had been this close and whispered something to you, you would be all goosebumps and blushes, but with Mikael… nothing. Fuck, this is probably a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and try again another night.

“Y/n?” His voice pulls you out of your daze. “I asked if you wanted to get out of here.” He says a bit annoyed while sliding a hand up your thigh. Gods, this guy is kinda an ass. This is definitely a bad idea.

“Um… I’m pretty tired. And I came here with a friend, so I should probably find her to make sure she gets home safe.” You slowly stand from your chair to leave. You immediately stumble and feel much dizzier than before. You were never good at handling your liquor, and apparently tonight was no exception… except you don’t remember drinking enough to feel this drunk. Mikael’s hand grabs your shoulder to stabilize you, but his grip feels too tight and he doesn’t let go once you balance yourself.

“Cmon honey. We were having a fun night, let’s keep it going.” He leans too close for comfort, giving you a slimy grin. You pull away and stumble back.

“I really should find my friend. I’m sorry!” You say nervously and look around for Mor. She’s nowhere in sight. Shit. She probably either left with that girl thinking you were gonna go home with Mikael or she’s lost in the crowd. Either way, you just need to get away from Mikael. You stumble towards the door, feeling dizzy and seeing double. Each step feels slower and heavier than the last, but you finally step outside, savoring the winter chill that will hopefully sober you up. Just as you take a step outside, you feel a hand grab your wrist too hard and pull you towards the alley next to Rita’s.

“I spent a lot of fucking money on your drinks tonight, so I’m not gonna ask again. You’re coming home with me.” Mikael’s whiskey breath is inches from your face, making you want to gag. You want to scream for help. You want to kick and fight back, but your body feels weak and your vision keeps getting blurrier. After a moment, you slump onto Mikael and he helps you walk down the sidewalk. To everyone else, you probably look like a drunk girl whose boyfriend is helping her home.

No. No no no. You need to get away. You need someone to notice you aren’t okay. How the fuck did this happen?

You hear a voice behind you and your feet stop moving. It’s too blurry and dark to see, but soon you’re on the ground and someone is yelling. You shut your eyes, accepting whatever horrible thing is about to happen to you. But suddenly you are in someone’s arms, and a moment later you’re inside somewhere. You open your eyes, and despite the blurriness, you recognize your blue curtains. You’re home. Somehow.

Mor must have found you and winnowed you home. Thank the gods for that. You are set on your bed and covered you with blankets.

“Thanks… thanks for finding me, Mor.” You slur and curl into your blankets. “I think that guy… put something in my drink.” Your voice trails off as you become incredibly sleepy and shut your eyes. Mor sits you up and forces you to drink some water. Your eyes feel too heavy to open, so you keep them shut.

“Just… don’t tell Azriel about this. It’s embarrassing enough to go looking for a quick fuck to get over my crush, but it’s even more embarrassing to get fucking drugged by someone in the process.” You get the words out slowly between sips. Thinking about everything that just happened tonight should make you want to cry and vomit, but you’re too tired to do so. When you finish the water, you lay back down and immediately fall asleep.

———

Your head is pounding and the sun is shining too bright. Someone is yelling outside your door. You roll over in bed, half expecting to see some male, but thankfully you are alone in your room. You don’t remember much from last night, but apparently your attempt at a one night stand was unsuccessful. Probably for the best.

The yelling gets louder.

“She was on the fucking sidewalk outside Rita’s!” You hear a male voice yell. Azriel’s voice. Why is Azriel here? And why is he so damn loud?

You slowly make your way out of bed and to the door so you can tell him to shut up, but as soon as you open the door, you see several worried faces staring back at you. Mor, Rhys, Cass, Feyre, and Azriel all stare at you. Mor looks like she’s crying and Azriel is red in the face with a murderous expression.

“Can you all shut up? I have a head-“ you start

“Y/n I’m so sorry!” Mor hugs you tight, almost knocking you over.

“What the…” you start to question before you’re cut off again.

“Do you know his name, y/n? I’ll make sure he is taken care of.” Rhys asks. His voice is gentle, but his face is full of anger.

“Like hell you will. I would’ve killed him last night if I didn’t have to get her back here. I should’ve fucking killed that piece of garbage.” Azriel mutters.

What the hell is going on? You pull away from Mor and face the group.

“Does anyone care to tell me what we’re talking about?” You ask cautiously while rubbing your temples in an attempt to alleviate your headache.

“Of course she doesn’t remember you guys. Give her some space.” Feyre says softly and leads you back inside your room with Mor. The three males protest, but Feyre gives them a stern look and shuts the door. “Sit down, y/n. I’ll tell you what’s happening.”

You sit on your bed and look between Feyre and Mor anxiously.

“You were found outside of Rita’s being carried by a stranger and you were close to unconscious. You’ve been asleep for almost the entire day now.”

You stare back in stunned silence. The memories slowly start to return, but before you can ask a question Mor starts tearing up again.

“You don’t know how sorry I am y/n. You were hitting it off with that guy and next thing I knew, you were gone. I thought you went home with him like you planned, but when Azriel told me-“

“Azriel? Wait… what?” You ask.

“Azriel found you and brought you back here. He made sure you were safe before finding me and going ballistic on me for not watching out for you. I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to let you get hurt!” She cries again.

“I don’t understand. I vaguely remember someone bringing me home, but I could’ve sworn it was you, Mor, not Azriel.” They both shake their heads. You sit silently and process the information for a minute before saying the only thing that may be helpful in this moment.

“His name was Mikael. He had dark hair, hazel eyes, and wore a red shirt.” You whisper, still in shock. Feyre’s eyes glaze over for a moment as she relays this information to Rhys. Suddenly its completely quiet outside your door.

———

You spend the rest of the day in your room, still exhausted and fighting a hangover. Or the after effects from the drug… not sure. There’s a soft knock at your door.

“Come in.” You call out. Azriel slowly opens the door and walks in. You can tell he just got back and tried to clean up quickly, but there’s still a few smears of blood on him.

“Uh… hi.” You say awkwardly and motion for him to sit. Azriel sits on the end corner of your bed and looks at you with a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes. His shadows are swirling around you, as if to check that you are actually okay. They’ve always taken an interest in you, which you normally appreciate, but right now it just makes you feel guiltier for last night.

“Thank you for finding me last night. I probably wouldn’t be okay right now if you hadn’t.” You whisper, avoiding his gaze. He takes a deep breath, like he is trying to control himself.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He mutters angrily. Azriel stands and starts pacing the room. “You could’ve been fucking killed!” He raises his voice.

“I know. I didn’t-“

“And then you go and say… fuck y/n!” He runs his hands over his face in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Az.” You whisper, fighting the tears that are building. Wait, why the hell is he mad at you? You didn’t drug yourself. “Azriel, it’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You say a bit annoyed. He lets out a cold laugh.

“Yeah, but you planned on going out to find someone to fuck. Wearing that fucking dress and letting that fucking worthless filth touch you.” He spits out angrily as his shadows swirl around your ankles.

“Okay look, I can do what I want and wear what I want. Why is it any of your business if I try to hook up with someone?” Your eyes burn and you fight the tears. “Obviously I wasn’t expecting someone to put something in my drink. I’ll be more careful next time!” You yell louder.

“Next time?” His voice drops to a whisper and he looks at you with an expression you can’t quite decipher.

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Azriel. Why do you even care? You’re never around anymore. Always too busy sneaking off with Elain to hang out with your best friend!” Hurt fills your voice. You hadn’t meant to let that last part slip out.

“Why are you bringing her into this?” His voice drops lower and his brow furrows.

“She has a mate, Azriel! What the hell are you doing?” You sigh and put your head in your hands. “I just miss you.”

He stops pacing and stares at you. “I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Yes you have! I never see you anymore!” Its true. He never makes plans with you anymore and it has been tearing you apart. It’s strange that he was even at Rita’s in the first place, because he never wanted to go even before he ditched you for Elain. Wait, why was he there? “You were at Rita’s last night when you found me.” It’s not a question.

He nods.

“Why were you there?” He obviously wasn’t expecting you to ask that because panic flashes in his eyes for a brief moment. “I know you weren’t there with Elain because she hates it there. And I didn’t see you inside with the guys.” I try to remember him outside the bar, but it’s all fuzzy.

“I was worried.” He mutters so quiet you barely hear.

“What?”

“I was worried about you y/n!” You look at him surprised. “I saw you in the hall ready to go out in that dress. God, that fucking dress. And the entire night I kept thinking about something bad happening. So I waited outside to make sure you and Mor were safe. And then I saw that fucking piece of shit with his hands on you and I just…” he trails off and takes a deep breath. “If something had happened to you… if I hadn’t been there to stop it…” His expression looks angry again.

You pause and process his words. He almost sounds jealous. But that can’t be it. Because he has no reason to be jealous.

He sighs again and continues with a softer voice. “Do you remember anything after you left?” He asks with a hint of desperation in his voice. You think hard for a moment. You thought Mor got you home and you told her what happened. But it wasn’t Mor. It was Azriel. And then you said not to tell Azriel because… fuck. Your eyes go wide.

Azriel stalks closer and is inches from you. “Do you remember what you said? Was that the drug talking or you?” He whispers low and gets closer, his eyes searching yours for an answer. This cannot be happening. If you thought your friendship was screwed before, this is definitely the final straw.

“Az…” you whisper.

“Tell me.” His voice is demanding.

“I don’t-“ you start, but Azriel turns and runs his hands over his face in frustration. He stays facing away from you, muttering something to himself.

“Azriel, I cant. You already avoid me as it is. I don’t think I can handle losing you as a friend. Losing you completely.” He obviously already knows, but saying it feels too real. Your words cause him to turn back around and get closer to you. Azriel leans over you, caging you against the bed in between his arms and stares at you silently for a moment. His shadows have stilled completely around you two. There’s something desperate in his eyes. He’s so close, closer than he has been in months. Hell, he’s closer than he’s been ever. You look from his eyes to his lips for a split second, mesmerized by the way he barely bites his bottom lip.

“Fuck it.” He mutters. Before you can ask what, he crashes his lips into yours. You freeze for a moment in shock, before melting into his touch. He lets out a low groan as you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. His calloused hands wrap into your hair and tug slightly, earning a small whimper from you. It takes several moments before you come up for air.

“Azriel… I don’t understand.” You ask breathlessly.

“Please tell me what you said last night is true. That you feel the way I feel.” He rests his forehead on yours.

“What about Elain?”

“I don’t care about Elain! I care about you! She knows that I’m in l-“ He pauses and takes a breath. “I was trying to get over you.” He grabs your chin softly and pulls your face to meet his. “It’s always been you, y/n. Please.”

You stare silently in shock for several moments. “Y/n…” Azriel’s voice pulls you from your trance and you realize he’s waiting for you to answer.

Just as you are about to respond, there is a knock on the door. Azriel quickly pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed away from you, as if nothing were happening.

“Come in!” You call out softly, and Feyre opens the door holding a plate of food.

“I should go.” Azriel says quietly and heads towards the door.

“Wait.” You try to stop him, but he keeps walking.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, y/n.” Azriel opens the door and leaves without a second glance. His shadows remain for a moment, before quickly retreating, as if being called to follow. Feyre gives you a questioning look, but you just shake your head and fall back onto the bed, finally letting the tears flow freely.

thank you for reading!! :)

Read Part Two

[tainbocuailnge]

[soapboxing to people who already agree with me] ongoing vs completed media works isn't a matter of one being inherently higher quality than the other because you better believe there's some truly dogshit self contained works out there it's the fact that an ongoing slash live service work by design will forever keep introducing new plot threads and coming up with ways to escalate the stakes in a way that is increasingly difficult to sustain as time goes on, while simultaneously the later parts of the story are beholden to the earlier parts to a degree they never are in things that release as one complete story, because the ongoing story can't go back and make the early stuff line up with the later stuff nearly as easily. that's why long running shows often end up reaching for some kind of world reset or a multiverse as an easy way to create infinite new plot points and get rid of some of that old stuff that wasn't working anymore.

a one-and-done story isn't dependent on indefinite audience retention so it can make riskier choices in its writing, it isn't incentivised to keep going forever to keep getting more money out of its audience so it can actually work towards a meaningful conclusion. there's benefits to being ongoing at least for a while, like i didn't watch gravity falls but from my outside perspective that show made really strong use of being ongoing to create a lot of community hype around solving the mysteries as info gets released each episode which made it way more popular than if it'd just released in one go, but I also know that showrunner had to actively fight the tv execs to actually let his show end when he'd intended it to because he knew it would become bad and sucks if it never got to actually end. in the gacha-game-o-sphere where I'm more active it's a whole fucking thing that the story can never actually end because they gotta keep introducing more characters to sell whose plot threads never get picked back up because there's more new characters to sell instead. actually, the original post was about a friend playing fate/extra and being blown away with how difficult and complicated of a person (positive) nero was before she got bastardised for gacha sales.

the promise of "more of this thing you like is coming in the future" is very strong at creating and maintaining an audience which is why execs LOVE making live service shit and throwing out sequels and new seasons and reboots of proven formulas, but that's exactly why you gotta read/watch/play something that's self contained and done every now and then, just to remind yourself of what it's like when something's actually fucking finished.

[thegrimreaper-probably]

Feed me

Gravity Falls x monster reader (plant)

Headcanon/drabble

Ford originally found you when he first came to town

He was walking around the town, when he noticed you.

Bought you right away, I mean definitely isn’t a plant person but something told him he needed that plant

You “died” after a week of him trying everything to keep you alive. While he was distracted by Bill, he cut his hand.

To which you drunk and brightened up. (You now have a taste for his blood and will scream/play dead till he gives in and lets you have some from his hand)

When he writes in his journal he definitely mumbles, which you picked up, and rather fast you learned how to talk

Scared the shit out of him (Bill saw the whole thing and thought it was hilarious)

Your first words were “Feed me.”

Bill laughed, Ford was confused/amazed

FiddleFord is scared of you and refuses to be near you.

You have tried to eat him, to which Ford put you in a ‘time out’ (he moved your pot out of the sun, with you facing a corner)

Bill placed you back and now randomly teleports you near FiddleFord

Once the whole portal opening happened you were left with Stan

Which is when he fed you twice more to get you big, in his eyes a giant plant monster = money

Learned the hard way why you were on a strict diet (you ate a person and a small yappy white dog)

You’re moved from the mystery shack to the living room

Once Dipper and Mabel come around you are then placed in the shed, he was not risking you eating those two

You loved the shed, plenty of small rodents to eat

Once Bill is summoned again he takes you.

Why? He still butt hurt about sixer (it’s either one of those situations where the ex takes the pet or he secretly thinks of you as his and Ford’s kid. Custody battle)

Stan freaks out because he just goes to the shed to feed you and you’re gone.

Bill gets rid of your diet, you are strictly feed humans, henchmen, and time agents (only the finest)

When Ford comes back, finds out about you missing he beats Stan up again

Once weirdmageddon happens you are then placed next to the throne made out of golden humans

Bill does let you outside and eat humans once he’s done with his throne of people

Ford thinks Bill took you for some greater purpose bullshit

Once the twins win, Ford hits you with the shrink ray

You’re back to baby size :( but upside Ford has made a fake blood formula(it’s not good at all and you’ve gone back to just nipping at him for blood, did make a new formula till you liked it)

Mabel decorates your pot with stickers and made a sweater. Says ‘Oopsie daisy’

Dipper just talks to Ford about you since he doesn’t really want to trust a human eating plant

Soos gave you some beef jerky (you spit it back at him)

Waddles’ screams at you, and that goat outside has tried to eat you multiple times (not that you haven’t tried to eat the goat as well…totally)

There’s a part 2, 3 (actual story) if you want a headcanon there is a second one, just click the tags or go to profile

[lichenes]

Omg Ski Aggu requests?? Thank you! 😭 💕

Can I ask for a situation where Aggu is ticklish but he keeps it very low profile in order to keep his “cool persona” but then reader finds out that he’s ticklish

Finally Aggu ask!!! I've been waaaaiting. The gif relays exactly what i think abt him. Aggu is the loml. Send me more Aggu asks!!

CW: kissin, cigs, alcohol, ooc.... sorry :|

wc: 483

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

You were looking at him from across the room, trying to catch him staring. You must’ve looked insane, your friends around you distracting you from the blonde, incessantly pointing towards him and ‘ooo’ing. “Shut the fuck up.” You said to one of them when he turned his head towards you. You gave him a bright smile and he smiled back from behind the goggles. 

The oohs got louder after that, fortunately they were quiet enough to not raise his suspicions. This cat and mouse play has been going throughout the whole night. It took everything from you not to walk up to him and kiss his stupid mouth. He kept talking to all his - you assumed - friends and didn’t have a moment to rest and talk to you. The indomitable human spirit was real and you were embodying it right in this moment.

You went to the bathroom hoping to cool down after the whole ordeal. You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. It’s go time. 

“Hi!” You introduced yourself to him when you caught him finally alone in the kitchen. “Hello.” He said looking you up and down, not like you’d see from behind the goggles. You introduced yourself. “Gorgeous name for a gorgeous person.” He said, laughing slightly at the corniness. “Was wonderin’ when you’d talk to me.” 

Your face got hotter, your hands started sweating and your heart seemed to rush a million miles an hour. Shit. He noticed. He was sitting in an open window, the moonlight illuminating his features just as well as the burning out lightbulb did. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to seem like a creep.” You said, almost giving up. He leaned against the counter. “No worries sweetheart.” He said making you malfunction. He was… bold. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Want one?” You shook your head. “Too bad, come sit with me.” 

You spent the next minutes getting to know him, asking him about his music career, his humble beginnings and why did he wear those goggles. “‘s just fun. The mystery of it all you know?” You chuckled.

You were both joking about something when you poked his side by accident while gesturing wildly. He recoiled. “Is everything okay?” You asked worried you’d upset him. “‘s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He was ticklish, you realised. From then on you teased him relentlessly about it.

You were smoking a cig passing it to him occasionally - an indirect kiss - you thought. “What, like you like being tickled.” He said his goggles not hiding the blush that was sprawled across his face. You laughed, the alcohol you ingested for bravery before the conversation evaporated the second he smiled. He leaned in closer.

You felt yourself turning sober suddenly. He pressed his lips to yours. They were chapped and the cigs were evident on his breath but at that moment - you didn’t mind. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

masterlist

[nylaboon]

Fell in Love With a Girl — Cooper Day

"Fell in love with a girl / I fell in love once and almost completely / She's in love with the world / But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading"

— in which Cooper comes clean to you about his troubles with Emma.

cooper day x gn!reader

tags: swearing, second person pov, fluff, not proofread, kinda shitty in my opinion but i tried my best

"Cooper, what's taking so long?" You inquired, feeling more and more frustrated with the boy. He was supposed to be helping you with your missing assignments, but he got sidetracked by a notification from his laptop. He was so distracted that he spent about three minutes staring at the screen, literally frozen in place. It was annoying, and the worst thing was that it was the third time he had been distracted by it, which meant that your work was taking even longer to complete.

The only reason why you even had missing assignments was because you got sick the previous week.

Strep throat. Possibly one of the worst and best illnesses a person can get. You felt like shit most of the time, but the upside was that you wouldn't have to go to school until it cleared. You just happened to catch it from a guy in your math class; how that happened was a damn mystery. You kept your distance and moved as far away from him as possible every time he so little as parted his lips to speak, but you still caught it. As a result, you took a week off from school, which didn't seem too bad at first, but that was until Cooper gave you an update on everything that went down during the week you spent at home whining about your sore throat and chugging shitty medicine. And it was one hell of an update, for sure.

He soon shifted his focus away from the screen and quickly closed it. He covered his face and moaned as he stood up from his desk and returned to his bed to sit next to you again. "Sorry, sorry. What were we talking about?"

You close your workbook, using your pencil to bookmark the page, and place it beside you. "Numbers and shit. Who was that?"

"Who was who?" You should have known he would respond to your question with one of his own. He always did this, and it was infuriating. In his defense, though, he didn't have to tell you who he was talking to if he didn't want to, therefore he was justified. Irritating as fuck, but justified.

"Don't play dumb," you advised, rolling your eyes at his feigned confusion. "Who were you emailing just now?" Cooper shrugged and glanced around the room. "Why does it matter?"

"It must matter since you keep running back to your laptop every two minutes."

"Well, it's closed now, so you don't have to worry about it. Lucky you." Cooper was not an open person, and you knew it. Everyone knew it. That being said, his dismissive behavior wasn't unusual. He always bottled up his emotions since he didn't know how to express them without assuming he sounded stupid. Unfortunately for him, you were nosy and constantly pestered him when he didn't tell you something, so he usually caved.

"Are you hiding something from me?"

He gave you a puzzled, defensive expression. "What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?"

"You're not denying it." Your logic garnered you a sneer from him, but he chose to simply change the subject to avoid further conflict.

"The more you argue with me over this, the more time you're wasting." He wasn't necessarily wrong about that, either. Instead of pressuring him to talk about it, you picked up your workbook and got back to work. Around twenty minutes later, you left to go to the bathroom, but when you finished and headed back to Cooper's room, he was sitting at his desk. Again. Instead of announcing your presence, you silently closed his bedroom door and crept up behind him, skimming through his laptop screen. He was reading an email from a girl who said she "missed him" and had been "thinking about him all day". It was a tough read, but it offered a great opportunity to make fun of him.

"Who's Emma?" You finally spoke up with a sly grin. Cooper jumped and shut his laptop in less than a second. He gave you an annoyed glare before sweeping his curls out of his face and looking away. He stood up from his chair and attempted to distance himself from you out of embarrassment.

"A friend," he mumbled.

"That didn't sound like a friend," you retorted.

"Why are you so worried about it?" Instead of answering his question, you mocked him.

You grabbed his arm and began swinging it, annoying him even more. Truth be told, you weren't particularly pleased with what you had found, but you were trying your best to conceal your displeasure via exaggerated excitement techniques. You had a mini-crush on him for a while (at least that's what you called it to persuade yourself that you didn't want him and were just being irrational for a year straight), and it was relatively upsetting to learn that he was talking to some girl he never mentioned to you. "Aw, Cooper has a girlfriend!"

He let you swing his arm, although he didn't seem thrilled about it. "She's not my girlfriend." You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Okay, sure," you replied, not believing him in the slightest. "And I'm not failing algebra."

"No, seriously," he affirmed. "She's not. We just started talking, like, a week ago."

"And how did that happen?"

It took him a while to gather enough courage to answer that question. "...she called me sexy."

"...seriously? Just- just straight up?" Cooper nodded. You cringed a bit. "Is she in any of your classes?" You asked. Little did you know, you wouldn't be prepared for his response. "...she's a junior."

"She's a what?!"

"Hear me out—"

"No!" That was odd. Wasn't it odd? How often did a freshman and a junior get together? Not very. You couldn't even begin to articulate your concern. Where do you even start? There was a lot to unpack in those three words. "Do you not see the issue with that?"

He shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah, but she's hot, and I'm me. M'not really a chick magnet, so I kinda have to take what I can get."

"Take what you can get?" You repeated in astonishment. You had more to say, but he interrupted you before you had time to finish. "Plus, we already made out a lot, so I kinda dug myself into a hole." As if it couldn't get any worse...

Your eyes widened. The situation was almost unfathomable, and you could feel yourself about to explode out of anger. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm sixteen; what's the issue?" He asked in defense. You would've laughed at that lie if you weren't pissed off.

"You're fifteen, Cooper. Stop telling people that." For some unexplained reason, he kept lying about being a year older than he was. He'd been doing it since he was twelve, and it was actually pretty cute. And stupid.

"Well, I'm almost sixteen."

"Your birthday was two months ago."

"Still. That's basically a young adult."

"Not even!" He shook his head and sighed. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"I don't know," you replied. "Why are you dating a junior?" Cooper flung his head back, annoyed, before sitting on the edge of his bed. "We aren't dating, okay? And even if she was a freshman, I still wouldn't date her." That claim perplexed you. You stood in front of him, looking down at him with curiosity. "Why not?" You questioned.

He placed his elbow on his knee and let his chin rest in the palm of his hands. "Because she's not into me."

"But you just said she called you—"

"I know," he interjected. "You don't get it, though. She thinks I'm an idiot." He looked up at you for a minute, only to be met with your blank stare. "She's just using me to write shit for her."

"So, you don't like her; you just like being used?" You asked. He sneered at your cluelessness.

"I don't like being used. I just like the attention."

You sat down beside him, hands in your lap. You mumbled a soft "damn" and peered at the floor alongside him. "That fuckin' sucks."

"You don't say?" He replied sarcastically, leading you to nudge his shoulder. He sighed hopelessly and continued his rant. "I don't think I'm ever getting in a relationship at this point."

"Don't say that," you pleaded. "You never know."

"I do know, though," he argued. "I'm weird. I don't fit anyone's standards. Not that I even care for relationships, but—"

"You fit mine."

Your honesty seemed to catch him off guard for a moment. He paused for a few seconds before proceeding with the conversation. "That's not what I meant, y/n. You're just a friend."

"That's not what I meant, either." He gazed at you, his eyes conveying his uncertainty. "I didn't mean it in a friendly way."

Cooper stared at you, completely stumped. You grumbled and rolled your eyes before clarifying yourself for him. For someone so smart, he could be so naive. "You idiot—I like you. That's what I meant."

Despite your clear confession, you were anything but calm. You wanted to bash your head through his window because you had just made the entire conversation awkward. Awkward because he was staring at you, visibly uncomfortable. Or maybe he was just stunned. You had hoped he was just stunned. Regardless, the room was quiet, which was enough to drive you insane on the inside.

"...dude, why?" He eventually asked.

"Why what?"

"Why me?"

"Why not?" You shrugged with sass but kept your attention away from him. You would prefer to not see your best friend become uncomfortable in your presence. Being in his presence at that moment was enough to make you want to shoot yourself in the head. "You really do have shitty taste in guys," he taunted, hoping to lighten the mood for you. You let out a bitter scoff. "But on a serious note, I didn't think you thought of me like that..."

"You learn something new every day." He cracked a brief chuckle before going back to his serious demeanor. You, however, were not laughing. "I'd rather you over Emma, y'know."

"Is that really the compliment you think it is?" You asked softly.

"Depends on how you take it," he replied. "But I did like her at first, just so you know. Before I even knew what she was up to. So do you know what that means?" It meant that even if he liked Emma, he still would have preferred you. Suddenly, you didn't want a bullet in your skull anymore. "Oh," you muttered while trying your best to not smile too hard. "Cool, cool. That's, like, rad."

"That's it?" He complained. "Just 'rad'?"

"Obviously not," you denied. "I just don't know how to react appropriately."

"How would you react if you were alone?" He asked, to which you immediately responded.

"I'd scream."

He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "I guess that's fair. But do you know what I want to do?" You tilted your head to the side, urging him to continue. But he said nothing. Without wasting another second, he leaned into your proximity and connected your lips, as if he was testing the waters before diving in fully. The kiss was neither short nor too long. You eventually reciprocated, allowing your hands to drift to his face and grasp onto him. You didn't want him to pull away, but he did eventually. He took a breath and smiled nervously while backing away from you. Meanwhile, you were still trying to process his actions.

"…why'd you pull away?" You spoke up, giving him a fake look of disapproval. "I wasn't supposed to?"

"Did I say you could?" Cooper shook his head. "Exactly. So get back over here and kiss me before I throw a fit."

"As you wish."

written by @nylaboon

[avonne-writes]

would love to see nr. 18 nr. 22 and 37 from the prompt list together!! «truth or dare» with «secret relationship» where their relationship get exposed bc john gets dared to kiss someone else, and gale is possessive

After such a long wait, I finally had a chance to write this. Thank you for the prompt! 🩷 Teenage awkwardness ahead, from an outsider POV.

Truth or dare - HS AU, beginning of Year 10

Why is it that the jocks at Olivia's school throw the lamest parties ever? Her older sister always used to brag about how much fun she had at these things back in the day - two years ago - but Olivia's just bored. Like, it's an absolute snoozefest. Putting on makeup for this wasn’t worth it. Not to mention the two hours she spent straightening her hair and looking for a top that complemented her green eyes. With the shit music they're playing, the whole thing was just a waste of time.

They’re all sitting around in a cramped living room that smells like her brother's socks and the P.E. locker room, and most of the boys are not even cute at all. They all have such bony arms, ugh. Olivia is attracted to real men, older boys. At least two years older. That's where she draws the line. The guys in her year are way too immature for her attention.

Okay, fine, if she really had to choose, Gale Cleven isn’t half bad. He’s kinda fit, more muscular than these soccer boys who can’t stop talking about Messi or whatshisname. He’s got beautiful blue eyes. A piercing stare. Zapphire orbs that glitter with interest when they meet Olivia's… She sighs, taking a sip of her soda and taking a furtive look at Gale where he's sitting cross-legged on the floor across from her. She likes boys with an actual personality. Gale has shoulder-length blond hair, which is pretty unique, but he’s a bit too quiet. What if he's boring too?

Plus, dating Gale would come with the unfortunate side effect of having to spend time with Bucky. Olivia had a crush on him last year, but it faded after a while, and she hates him now. She doesn’t get why he's so popular when he's just a stupid player. He flirts but never actually asks you out. Her past self was dumb for falling for his bright smile and loud personality.

Maybe, going for someone quiet is just what she needs. No, not quiet - mysterious. Yes, that's a better word to describe Gale. He’s smart and sweet and fit, and he wears neat clothes, not just plain, wrinkled t-shirts like Bucky. He takes care of himself. And he doesn’t have acne either. She bets he smells nice. Probably like - like cedar and sandalwood and an earthy, musky scent that she would still smell on her clothes hours after kissing him…

Suddenly, Gale's gaze flickers over to her, so she looks down for a second. Heat rises to her cheeks. But, she read somewhere that if you can keep eye contact with a guy for at least 5 seconds, they will begin to like you, and if it goes up to 10 seconds, they fall in love with you. It sounded like a good method, so she has decided to go for it every chance she gets. Telling herself that she's a bold and pretty girl, she looks up and finds Gale's eyes again. One, two, three - Ah!

It was so close! But Bucky had to choose that moment to tug at a lock of Gale's hair. Can’t he just leave Gale alone? Why does he need everyone’s attention all the time?

Disappointed, Olivia turns back to her conversation with her friends, but she makes sure to glance at Gale every now and then, to give that eye contact another chance. For the most part, Gale doesn’t return her gaze, but she can understand why - Bucky's constantly talking to him, his pale face flushed, sweat on his neck and a permanent smile in his eyes. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so annoying. Like, obsessed much?

She wonders how those two get along so well. Gale is a sensitive boy, a romantic soul, she can tell, and Bucky's all about video games and whatnot. And the way he's sitting is so irritating too, can’t he close his legs? His thigh is brushing Gale's knee. It’s clearly making Gale uncomfortable, because he fidgets and bounces his leg a little. Trying to make Bucky catch on that he’s way too close, no doubt. He gives Bucky an awkward smile, looking at him from the corner of his eyes, and instead of realizing how overbearing he is, Bucky just hands Gale his own drink. As if he expects him to hold it for him or something. Ridiculous.

“Dave!” One of the soccer boys yells at their host over the thumping beat.

“What?”

“I'm fucking bored, man!”

“Go fuck off then!”

The boys flip each other off, and some of the others laugh as if it’s the funniest thing they've ever seen, even though this happens every single day at school. Olivia rolls her eyes. Is it some weird male ritual to insult each other over literally nothing while the others laugh like a pack of demented hyenas? This is why she has given up on these dumbasses.

Sweet Gale would never act like this. He’s a gentleman. The kind of man who'd give his lady a thousand red roses on Valentine's before telling her he loves her. Olivia can feel this in her heart.

When she looks at him again, she sees him pull his knees up and rest his elbows on them, then his head on his folded arms, looking at Bucky. With his usual clueless grin, Bucky says something to him that Olivia doesn’t catch, then he bends one of his knees to bump it into Gale's.

Oh my God, Olivia thinks, this boy really can’t take a hint.

She has suspected for a while that Bucky is socially impaired, not in the introverted weirdo way but like, he’s too much and he doesn’t realize it. How his friends put up with it, she has no idea. But it's clear that Gale is pulling back now, because he pushes Bucky's knee away, and when Bucky grabs his wrist in retaliation, he starts scuffling with him with one hand.

“O-kay, who wants to play spin the bottle?” Dave calls out. A mix of cheers and boos follow.

Excited, Olivia perks up. Gosh, this would be the perfect opportunity!

Her mind speedruns a daydream for her. She imagines Gale spinning the bottle, biting his plump lip nervously as he waits for it to slow down. When it rolls to a stop pointing at Olivia, he’d relax though. He might have been hoping for this, for a chance to get closer to her. He might even give her a shy smile. As everyone watches, he’d take her face in his gentle hands, wait for her to nod to make sure it's okay, and then he'd lean in ever so slowly and press a tender kiss to her lips. He’d pull back an inch after a second, but he wouldn’t be able to let her go just yet - he’d close the distance again, not able to hide his passion any longer.

Pleasepleaseplease, she chants like a mantra, curling her legs under herself to sit as attractively as one can on an ugly IKEA rug, leaning against a couch. Her best friend shares a look with her and giggles as Benny DeMarco chugs down half a bottle of Fanta just to have something they can use to spin. That one's going to be an alcoholist, Olivia has no doubt. And he doesn’t even have blue eyes. Not her type.

As Dave lowers the volume of his trash music - finally! - some of the other girls start protesting the game choice. Olivia narrows her eyes at them. She doesn’t mind giving a quick peck to a couple of clumsy fuckboys if she gets to kiss Gale in the end. But if these girls ruin this for her -

“Fine! Fine, Jesus.” Dave raises his hands in surrender, and the girls stop whining. “How about truth or dare then?”

That seems good enough for everyone. Spin the bottle would have given Olivia a bigger chance at getting to kiss Gale, but whatever, truth or dare isn’t so bad either, and some of the questions might be funny at least. Again, she tries to catch Gale's eyes, running a hand through her long brown hair, but he’s looking at the floor and smiling at whatever Bucky's whispering in his ear. After a moment, he laughs and tells Bucky to shut up.

Glaring at Bucky, Olivia wills him to listen this time.

The game is pretty tame at first. A few people are asked if they have a crush on anybody, Dave is dared to show them his underwear, which is something Olivia will have to scourge from her mind, then her best friend has to tell them her most embarrassing memory. It’s quite funny. As they get more into the game, the questions start getting better too, until finally, the bottle lands on Gale. Olivia can feel her cheeks burn with excitement. Predictably, he chooses truth first - but that’s okay, because he, too, is asked the usual question:

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

Some of their classmates groan, and Dave throws a handful of chips at the person who asked this lame question again, so the boy adds, “In this room?”

Olivia holds her breath. She tries to tell herself that it doesn't matter if Gale says no, it’s not like he’s the only guy in the world, but her heart still races as Gale's lips twitch into an unreadable smile. So sexy and mysterious!

“Yeah, I do.”

A few whoops and laughter follow, and Bucky, obnoxious as ever, whistles. Something about that makes Gale laugh. The way his nose crinkles is the most adorable thing Olivia has ever seen. Suddenly, she wonders if the knowing looks Gale shares with Curt and DeMarco are a sign that the boys know who the lucky girl is. It has to be a sign. She tries to see if any of them look at a particular girl, and she flushes when DeMarco's eyes land on her. She tries to read his gaze for long seconds, but when he smiles, she glances away, embarrassed. If it’s her, she'll know soon enough!

They play a few more rounds without anything interesting happening. When it’s her turn at last, Olivia chooses dare, but her task is to drink a sip from a disgusting concoction they mix for her using ketchup and soda. The smell alone is enough to make her gag, but she pinches her nose shut and does it. It's absolutely vile, and she hates how it lingers in her mouth.

Washing it down with water doesn’t help much either. She's on the brink of getting upset about it, when, like a literal knight in shining armor, Gale reaches across the space between them and offers her a bubblegum.

“Oh.” Olivia blushes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she looks at Gale’s kind expression. When she reaches out, her fingers brush Gale's. “Thank you, Gale.”

Even saying his name makes her heart flutter. And then the way he smiles at her in return!

As she pops the gum in her mouth, he also puts one in his, and at that moment, she feels a synchronicity she has never felt before. It’s an incredible feeling to be so attuned to someone that without talking or practicing, you just mirror each other instinctually. It can't be a coincidence. Even if he's not doing it on purpose, Gale is connected to her, she can tell.

Gosh, what if it really happens tonight? Most of her previous crushes ended in disappointment - khm, Bucky - but this time, she has much higher hopes. She knows her senses are getting better, that she can pick up on all the signs easier. Tonight might just be the night.

She feels giddy from this thought, right until it’s Bucky's turn to play.

“Truth or dare?” Curt asks him with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Bucky's trademark cocky grin makes an appearance. “Gimme your worst, Biddick. Dare.”

Curt’s smile widens. “Take Buck's bubblegum out of his mouth and put it in yours without using your hands.”

“Ewww!” Most of the room alternates between gagging, laughing and looking at Curt in awe for coming up with such a disgusting task. Even with her small crush on Gale, Olivia wouldn’t do it, it’s too much. Although… Actually, if it got her a kiss, maybe she would.

As she goes through this thought process, she comes to the horrifying realization that Bucky would have to kiss Gale to complete the dare. She blanches. It wouldn’t mean anything, of course, but poor Gale, this isn’t even his dare.

One of the girls takes out her phone and starts recording. Bucky just winks at her like he’s not fazed at all by the dare. He’s such a fuckboy, honestly. Olivia hates how that behaviour still makes something in her belly stir. She watches with her eyebrows trying to disappear under her bangs as Bucky leans into Gale's space, looks at his lips, then bats his eyelashes at him in an over-the-top gesture. Gale just looks amused.

“Can you please give me your gum, Buck?”

“Hey!” Curt tries to interrupt through a surprised laugh.

“You didn't say I couldn’t use his hands.” Bucky shrugs, still grinning, and opens his mouth. His tongue sticks out.

To Olivia's astonishment, Gale doesn't protest. He snickers, then reaches a hand up to his lips. In front of their disgusted eyes, he takes the chewed-up gum out of his mouth and puts it in Bucky's.

“Fuck, that's disgusting.” Dave chortles gleefully as Bucky leans back on his hands, chewing away with a smug expression on his face. The rest of the room gags, cringes and laughs until Bucky spins the bottle, then they move on to the next round.

Olivia watches Gale's face for discomfort, but he seems to have found the dare funny. He shakes his head at Bucky fondly. When his eyes find Olivia's, he gives her a sheepish smile. It makes the butterflies in her stomach go crazy with exhilaration. She grins back.

Although it started out as a total flop, the night feels like a dream now. And in dreams… well, anything can happen, right?

The game picks up after that. The dares get more challenging, the questions juicier, and even though Olivia doesn’t get the kind of opportunities she's waiting for, she finds herself having fun. Being as attentive as he is, Gale always watches the person whose turn it is, not Olivia, but she finds that endearing. She wishes he'd catch her eyes more often, but it's okay, quiet boys usually struggle with eye contact. Except for DeMarco, apparently, because anytime she glances his way, he’s looking back. She wonders if he's just zoned out or something or if there’s something else there. He’s not that ugly, if she thinks about it…

Another ripple of laughter pulls her out of her thoughts. The bottle lands on Bucky again, and he says dare before Dave has even finished asking the question.

At Bucky’s response, Dave wiggles his eyebrows. “Kiss the hottest girl in this room on the lips.”

It's simple enough. And surely, for someone like Bucky who - according to the gossip Olivia heard - can’t go without a girlfriend for more than a month, this can’t be too hard to complete. A part of her aches in the hope that it's her. Not that she wants Bucky Egan, dumb jock extraordinaire, to kiss her. It’s just nice to be kissed, that's all. And it would be flattering if he chose her as the hottest. Better yet, it might make Gale jealous.

Oh Gosh, wouldn’t that be perfect? What if Bucky started leaning in and Gale pulled him away at the last moment just to lean in himself and claim the prize? Everyone would be so shocked!

Widening her eyes innocently, Olivia watches Bucky's face for a sign. She ignores the wave of feelings that take her back to last year when she had that ill-advised crush on him. She waits for him to notice her, but he seems unable to look away from Gale’s eyes. This time, they aren't smiling. Something serious flickers between them. Bucky's eyebrows draw together in a way that makes him look like a puppy with gangly legs and arms. To Olivia, Gale's expression is unreadable, but when Gale’s lips purse, Bucky turns back to Dave.

“Sorry, man, gotta forfeit.”

“Aww, what, you getting stage fright?” Dave laughs at his own lame joke. “I was going easy on you!”

“Dude, you were just not inclusive enough.” One of the other boys pipes up. “Should’ve said hottest person.”

“Oh, right. You just want to kiss me, huh, Egan?” Dave makes an annoying kissy noise.

Bucky grins again, his previous discomfort gone. “In your dreams, Davey-boy.”

“You bet.” Dave snorts, then gestures at the circle of them sitting around. “Okay, I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

Again, Bucky hesitates. It's confusing. Olivia doesn’t know what to make of that. It’s as if she's missing a crucial piece of the puzzle, something she should have noticed already but ended up overlooking. She's still trying to make sense of it when her night comes crashing down around her like a sudden storm that leaves you shivering and cold to the bone.

Bucky reaches up with a loving but sure hand, cups Gale's cheek and pulls him into a kiss like it’s something he has done before.

Their lips meet and part with a soft, damp sound that feels loud in the sudden silence that descends on their group.

It might as well be the sound of Olivia's heart being torn apart. A deep ache blooms in her chest where her joy was planted earlier tonight. Her mind refuses to accept what she's seeing. It’s not a first kiss. It’s sure as hell not a kiss forced on two boys by a dare, it’s not a prank taken a step too far. They've done this before. A dozen, a hundred, or a thousand times. They know which way to turn their heads to make it comfortable, how to tilt their chin for the sweetest contact, how to stroke the other's hair to earn a smile.

They know how to kiss each other and they enjoy it.

With a small smile, Gale draws back an inch, but Bucky doesn’t let him go too far - he pushes forward to chase Gale's lips. Right in front of them all, Gale returns this by opening his mouth, and Bucky takes the chance to lick inside and kiss the taste of bubblegum on Gale’s tongue as if he forgot they had an audience to watch it all.

A cacophony erupts around them, everyone talking over each other in excitement and confusion.

Please tell me this was just a dare, Olivia's breath hitches in pain. Shocked into silence, she starts fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Only parts of reality seem to reach her consciousness - the words boyfriend and 8 months, and the sight of Gale's hand in Bucky's, thumb stroking back and forth. How? When did this happen? Why didn’t she notice it all this time? It's so pathetic that she wants to laugh at herself. She managed to develop crushes on two boys who were secretly dating each other.

Universe, is this supposed to be a sign?

Oh, how it hurts that she's always the one who turns out to be delusional.

As she mopes there quietly, watching the sweet smile on Gale’s face, the sudden warmth of a shoulder pressing to hers draws her attention away. When she turns to look up, her green eyes meet brown.

“You okay?” DeMarco asks. The concern in his gentle voice sounds like a balm to her broken heart.

She takes a deep breath and musters a smile. He feels warm and solid, someone you can rely on.

Well. Maybe Benny DeMarco isn’t such a bad option after all. Bucky and Gale can have each other, Olivia's probably better off like this anyway.

The next party can only be luckier than this, she's sure.

[lovelybucky1]

rivals/enemies to lovers Anakin fic and their tension is 10000000x high all the time like😫😫😫

thank you for the ask!!! inbox open for cillian murphy and anakin

warnings: gender neutral!reader, pushy anakin, semi-public, mentions of masturbation, inappropriate use of the force, teasing, enemies to lovers, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

Anakin Skywalker might be the most infuriating person you have ever had the misfortune of meeting. The praise he constantly received for his skills during his padawan years combined with the title of "Chosen One" that is often bestowed upon him did terrible things for his ego.

He struts around the temple with so much arrogance that you can practically smell it on him. He's rude and demanding, often making some of the younger Jedi do his bidding just because they listen to him.

If they weren't scared of Anakin, they were bowing at his feet to kiss his boots. Everybody knew what Anakin was capable of, and they treated him like a god because of it. But not you.

To you, Anakin was nothing but a spoiled brat in an adult's body. He tried to enchant you, to get you under the same spell he had everyone else under, but you refused. You could recognize talent, but you would rather die than contribute to his inflated ego.

For some reason, your refusal to kiss his ass made Anakin obsessed with you. He knows you hate him, you make it obvious. Anakin has taken this hatred as a challenge; he wants to break your resolve.

Anakin is like a fly, always buzzing around your head at the least opportune times. During training, he always volunteers to be your partner. He always sits next to you at meals and during meditation. While meditating, he invades your mind just to pester you some more. At night, he appears in your dreams and you wake up pissed off at him.

This is a game to Anakin. One you despise with your entire being, but its one he never seems to tire of. It's escalated a bit over time; at first it was just teasing jibes and general annoyance, but now his remarks have a flirtatious edge to them and that makes you even angrier.

"If you were that desperate to get into my arms, you just had to ask," Anakin smirks as he looks down at where you fell against his chest. Training with Anakin is never easy, he plays dirty just so he can get you into positions such as these.

"Get the fuck off of me," you huff, pushing him away.

"What's got you in such a bad mood?" he asks, knowing full well that it's him that has you so irritated.

"One of life's greatest mysteries," you say as you get back into a fighting stance.

Training technically ended an hour ago, but Anakin kept taking you down and you couldn't leave without a victory.

"Come on, you can tell me. I can keep a secret."

You run at him, extending your foot to kick him in the shoulder but he grabs your ankle and flips you over, sending you falling face down onto the mat. You grunt when you hit the floor and roll onto your back, only to find Anakin standing over you, looking impossibly tall.

"You're my fucking problem."

You get up, swatting Anakin's hand away when he offers it to you.

"Me? What have I done to you?" he asks.

Catching him off guard, you hook your ankle around the back of his knee and bring him to the ground. He could have fought back, but he goes down easily. You stand in front of him as he kneels in front of you, not looking any less smug despite his position.

“Why do you continue to train with me if you hate me so much?” he asks.

“You choose me, asshole.”

“I don’t force you to be my partner. You could have anyone you wanted.”

You glare down at him. “I like beating the shit out of you.”

“Have you ever beat me?” he asks with a smirk. “Y’know, sometimes I get a feeling that you like me.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah. You’re always hanging around me, you dream about me, you even think about me when you meditate. That sounds a little like obsession to me.” He walks forward a bit on his knees so he’s close enough to rest his cheek against your thigh, and for some reason you don’t stop him.

“Those are all things you do, Anakin. You put those thoughts in my head.”

Anakin chuckles. “Maybe so, but I know you also think about me at night,” he rises to his feet, once again towering over you. “in bed, under the covers when you can’t get to sleep.”

You gasp, trying to cut it off before he notices but it’s too late. Anakin is close, too close, his chest mere inches away from yours.

“I didn’t put those thoughts in that pretty head. That’s all you. Your desire,” he takes ahold of your wrists and pins them at your sides. “Your dirty secrets.” His gaze is intense and it makes you want to squirm away from it.

“You’re a fucking pig,” you spit, trying to wrestle your way out of his hold but there’s no use.

“And you can’t admit what you want,” he says. “Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won’t tell a soul.” Somehow Anakin sounds earnest and you feel compelled to confess.

“I don’t like you,” you say.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I hate you.”

“I like it that way.” He looks at you expectantly. “But…?”

“There’s no but, Anakin! I’m not attracted to you,” you huff.

He rolls his eyes and smirks. “How about I tell you some things first, and then it’s your turn?” You give him a blank stare in return; he continues anyway. “I hate you. I think you’re a stubborn little bitch who hates me just because you’re jealous. You’ll never be as powerful as I am, and I know that irks you like nothing else. I hate the way you talk shit about me every chance you get to make yourself feel better. And most of all, I hate the way you pretend you don’t want me to fuck you in all the ways you fantasize about.”

You gape at him, feeling embarrassed and angry that he just exposed you so blatantly. You wrench your arms out of his hold and this time he lets you, which makes you even angrier.

“You fucking-”

“Tell me you don’t want it,” he challenges. You stare back at him. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you.”

There is a moment of silence; Anakin waiting for you to deny and you waiting for him to ridicule you.

Anakin steps forward and grabs your hips, pulling you flush to him. You don’t fight back.

“Nothing to say?”

“Fuck you.”

“You gotta say please if you want it so bad,” he grins.

“I hope you choke.”

In a flash, Anakin has you down on the mat, flat on your back. Your legs are spread and he’s slotted between them, leaning up on his elbows to look at you. His nose is only inches away from yours, and it’s making your blood boil.

“Don’t I feel good on top of you?” He does, and he knows it. “Just say yes, baby. I’ll fuck you right here, just how you like it.”

You grit your teeth. “Yes.”

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | Epilogue

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

"Ethan, you’re tearing me apart. Can you go s-slower, please?" you whimper as Ethan bounces you on his cock, his fingers digging possessive dents into your hips. New bruises have already bloomed over the ones from last time just this morning. It’s one of the things you had no choice but to get used to…the constellation of bruises, scratch marks and love bites Ethan is fond of scattering all over your flesh. 

He can’t let a single day go by without leaving evidence that you're his somewhere on your body. 

"Can you blame me when you feel so fucking good, princess?" Ethan grunts, resting his head in the valley between your bare breasts. His dick twitches inside you and you gasp, your slick walls reflexively spasming around him. Your nails burrow in the taut muscles of his back, an explosion of both pain and pleasure rushing through your core, terrifyingly indistinguishable from one another.

The pornographic echo of your wet skin slapping against Ethan’s fills the room, his throaty moans mingling with your helpless squeals. 

He squeezes your hips and slams you harder onto his length. 

Your chest clenches as you feel him graze your sensitive spots. 

Ethan’s sweat-dotted forehead creases. 

"Shit…I’m gonna come," he rasps, his damp curls brushing your collarbone.

Dread fills the pit of your stomach. 

"Not inside Ethan, please."

Despite your desperate plea, Ethan hums out a deep sigh and spills his warm seed inside you. Your gut sinks as you feel his spent flood your cunt. There’s so much of it that it leaks past the ring where his length is buried inside you and stains the sheets. 

You bang on his chest, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Ethan!" 

Your mouth shudders.

"You said you wouldn't anymore."

A slanted smirk twists his plump lips at your outraged reaction. 

He cradles your weeping face, thumbs swiping your tears. 

"It's okay. You're on birth control, remember?" 

How could you forget? Ethan all but threatened you to take the pills so he could use your body whenever and wherever he feels like.

Your hesitant, trembling voice trickles out. 

"Yes but…" You squirm beneath his heated stare. "In sex ed they used to say there's always a risk."

"It won't happen," he assures firmly, his large hand traveling down to your hip to keep you impaled on his cock when you try to move away. 

Ethan takes a minute to bask in the sight of himself leaking out of you, the sticky excess trickling along your thighs. His brown eyes darken as he licks his lips. 

Worry tickling your stomach, you let your hand brush over his thick mane of curls. You noticed he's nicer when you play along. Ethan leans into your touch, gripping your wrist to kiss the inside of your palm. 

Chewing your bottom lip, you mumble, "What if…you used a condom."

Ethan snorts. 

"I'm not using a fucking condom." His long fingers trace the swell of your hips, a sigh of pleasure leaving him as your walls flutter around him. Ethan's throat bobs, his voice hoarse with lust as he says, "I want to feel you around me, princess."

"O-Okay."

You deflate. You don't know why you keep trying to reason with Ethan despite the awful truths you've learnt about him. Maybe part of you still hopes the sweet boy you first met is still buried somewhere deep within him, even if he shows you his depraved nature time and time again.

He frames your chin, his hard gaze locking with yours. 

"You're forgetting who’s in charge here, princess. You don't make the rules. I do."

Your blood turns to ice. Swallowing your tears, you nod. 

"Okay, Ethan. I'm sorry I complained."

As soon as you apologize, a bright smile appears on his face. He bends over you and brushes a soft kiss against your lips. 

"It's fine. I forgive you." Ethan’s smile grows as he takes a long look at you. "You're lucky I love you so damn much."

Relief flows through you when he finally exits your core with a groan. It was the third time this morning and you’re beyond sore. 

Exhausted, you climb under the sheets and lie on your side. You tense as Ethan pulls your back into his chest, his chin nuzzling the crook of your neck as he breathes you in. His muscular arms circle your waist and it takes everything in you not to shrink, especially as his soft cock rubs against your ass cheeks. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. But what other way is there? Ethan didn’t exactly give you a choice. He made it clear you could either yield to his every desire or watch everyone you care about fall like flies around you.

You can’t have another death on your conscience. 

Under the pillow, you feel the buzzing of your phone. You grab it and check the text you just received. 

Your heart sinks. 

Somehow, it slipped your mind. Maybe because Ethan monopolizes so much of your time. 

"Who's that?" 

You shrug. 

"It's just Alana."

Your meager hope of him dropping the issue crumbles to dust when he inquires, "So why do you look so sad?"

"It's nothing," you elude, praying your nonchalance will keep him from digging any further.

You’re about to set your phone aside when Ethan swipes it from between your fingers. 

"Ethan!" you cry out.

Retrieving it is impossible, Ethan using the length of his arm to keep it out of your reach. 

A wide, shit-eating grin decorates his mouth as he watches you fail to pry it from him. 

As he reads the text however, the mirth on his face evaporates. His brows crumple.

"Why is Alana asking for your uniform?" he asks, sitting up.

You fiddle with the hem of the sheet. 

"With everything, I forgot to give it back."

Ethan’s frown deepens.

"Give it back? Why? You love being a cheerleader."

"It’s really nothing."

He tilts up your chin when your gaze falls downward.

"Answer me. Why is she asking for it back?"

You shudder. His stern tone allows no room for argument.

You lick your lips and confess with a small voice, "She cut me from the team…" 

Ethan’s jaw ticks, flames of rage burning in his chestnut orbs.

"She did what?" he growls.

Panic fills you. 

You put your hands on his chest, tears adorning your lashes.

"No, Ethan. You promised. No more murders, please." 

Your plea peters out into a sob. 

Ethan flashes you a bright smile, tenderly cupping your cheeks as you sniffle. 

"Sure…anything for you, princess."

Despite his promise you can’t help but feel unsettled, the air growing chillier around you as a strange glint dances in his eyes.

“So it’s a thing now?” Mindy asks for possibly the hundredth time this morning. The mix of shock and disdain oozing off her tone is unwavering every time. 

Ethan’s hold on your waist tightens as he readjusts you on his lap. He insisted for you to sit here despite the vast amount of room on the benches.

His fingers lazily skim over your thigh, right beneath the hem of your shorts.

“Yes, Mindy, it’s a thing, now. We’re a thing now," he says, his lips curling upwards. 

"Yes and according to some of the girls in our dorm, they were a very loud thing this morning…" Tara whispers under her breath. 

Your cheeks heat. 

Awkward stares circulate around the group, all your friends avoiding looking at both you and Ethan for a few seconds. 

Well, all of them except for Mindy. 

She glares daggers at him before swiveling to her brother.

“You’re okay with this?”

You wonder what Chad's thinking from his seat atop the table. 

 He’s been unusually silent for most of the morning, his face impossible to read. Scratching the back of his head, he heaves out a deep sigh.

“I still…don’t really know how I feel about it to be honest.”

Mindy shakes her head, turning to the other end of the bench. 

“Tara?” she asks, desperation for someone to back her up clear on her features.

Tara opens her mouth, shifting on the bench before clearing her throat.

“I’m not the right person to ask, I think.”

Your best friend rolls her eyes. 

“Babe, come on, back me up," she begs Anika. 

“I…" Anika trails off, her eyes bouncing between you and her girlfriend. She reaches across the table, putting her hand on your arm as she asks earnestly, "Uh…Are you happy?”

Mindy’s hand covers Anika’s on your arm. “Blink twice if you need help."

Chad shakes his head, hopping off the table. 

“Mindy, come on." His eyes lock with yours, exasperation painted on his handsome face. “Bean, can you reassure everyone that my roommate isn’t holding you hostage and that this is a fully consensual boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic?”

You swallow thickly. As the seconds stretch into eternity, Ethan’s hand grows heavier on your thigh, his thumb drawing circles into your skin in a quiet threat. 

Chest tight, you remember the words he had you rehearse, trying not to stumble as you repeat them. 

“I love Ethan…"

His deep commanding voice echoes in your head as you speak. 

He’s the nicest and most caring guy I know.

"...And if you guys are really my friends…"

You’ll accept him. 

"And most importantly, you’ll accept us.”

Mindy’s jaw hangs slack at your statement. 

Quinn pipes up cheerfully from the other side of the table. 

“I think they make a super cute couple, don’t you think, guys?" Your stomach knots as she beams at you, mischief gleaming in her emerald eyes. "The hot cheerleader falling for the shy, awkward nerd? Sounds like a great romcom to me.”

Tears tickle the back of your eyes but you suppress them. A romcom? More like a R-rated horror flick full of gore, tragedy and cruel deaths.

Mindy tosses her hands up in the air.

“I need to go throw up somewhere," she says before storming off.

Anika tosses her a sad look, mouthing 'sorry' at you as Mindy leaves. 

If only she knew. 

Mindy doesn’t have a thing to be sorry for.

In fact you’re the one who owes her an apology for ever doubting her.

You wish you could chase after her, tell her how right she was…about everything, how you should have listened, how you should have trusted her.

But it’s too late.

Anika sends you a soft smile, genuine concern swimming in her orbs. 

“You are happy though, right? You deserve it after how rough things have been for you lately."

Your skin sizzles beneath the intensity of Ethan’s gaze. He blows a warm breath on the back of your neck that makes your pulse race. 

You know you can’t falter, or he’ll find a way to make you pay. A deadly way. 

Your smile grows big enough to hurt the corners of your lips. 

“I’ve never been happier. Ethan…Ethan makes me happy.”

~

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 9

Hey guys! Last week was a bit rough on all the chapters. So I'm hoping things pick up this week.

In his we have Nancy being nosy and Steve and Robin accidentally stumble on a part of the mystery.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

~

Robin and Steve were coming out of their appointment at the district attorney’s office when they spotted an unusual couple seating in the cafe across the street.

“Say, Robin,” Steve said tilting his head forward, “what say we try out that cafe today?”

At first Robin was confused then she spotted the duo, too. “You know, when you’re right, you’re right. I wonder if they pain au chocolats.”

“Oohh,” Steve said, rubbing his hands together. He loved those chocolate croissants as much as she did. “I wonder if they serve hot chocolate, too!” He liked coffee, but the mark of a good cafe in his opinion was their hot chocolate. The richer and darker the better.

They walked into the cafe. It was brightly lit and everything was in warm browns and bright yellows. Steve loved it immediately.

Turned out that not only did they have Robin’s pain au chocolats, they also had cheesecake by the slice. So Robin got her latte with her pain au chocolat and Steve got his hot chocolate with a slice a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake.

Then Steve and Robin sat down at table near their interesting couple and Robin turned on the record function on her phone with a wink, and then pulled a book out her purse and Steve pulled out his phone to scroll through social media.

They didn’t have to wait long before the couple said something stupid.

“What do you mean you’re not doing it anymore?” Billy hissed. “The goal was to get the new guy out.”

“Yeah,” Stella growled back. “To get your job back, but if I continue and that nosy bitch gets wind of it, we’ll both be out of job. Hell the whole club will be out of fucking job!”

“Tell me about it again,” Billy said with a heavy sigh.

So Stella went over the whole thing with Nancy and Jason again. “She rocketed to the top of journalism world in two short years, Billy. If she starts sniffing around and finds out about the attacks on Steve, she’ll blow up the whole joint without batting a single eyelash!”

“I thought you said they were exes or some shit,” Billy huffed. “Why the fuck does she still care for the guy? Like he’s not even that great of a dancer. He’s new and shiny, once the novelty wears off, people will slack off and Eddie will be begging me to come back.”

“Who knows,” Stella said, waving her hand dismissively. “But does that mean we can stop, at least until she writes her little article?”

“Yeah, baby,” he purred. “You can stop until the nosy little reporter get her rocks off and nothing happens, same as usual.”

Steve and Robin rolled their eyes as sounds of making out reached their eyes. Robin turned off her recording after making sure to get video of the two them kissing and giggling with each other.

Shortly after Billy and Stella left, probably to avoid getting kicked out for public indecency.

“So what do you think, Robs?” Steve said with a grin, “You think we should come back here more often?”

“Hell, yeah!”

~

“What do you mean you’re not going to do anything about it?” Steve protested. “I have evidence right there!”

“Steve...” Eddie said softly. “I get it. I do. But I want to catch them in the act, too. And if they’re gone to ground, then we wait them out. It’s hard. I know. You want justice and I do too, for you. But we have to play this smart. I’ll make copies of the recording and keep it safe. But let’s focus on keeping the club open so everyone still has jobs, yeah?”

Steve deflated and sat down hard in the chair. He put his hands between his legs. “I know the club is more important but to have that just fall in me and Robin’s lap. It just seemed like a sign you know?”

Eddie got up and walked around his desk. He knelt in front Steve and took his hand. “It is. It is exactly what we needed. We know who it is now. We can monitor them closely. Catch them in the act. But we have to tread carefully. Especially with Jason Carver and Nancy Wheeler teaming up to shut us down.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and nodded. Eddie gently raised his head head by putting his fingers under the and gently raised it.

“Well get them good,” he promised. “But first tell me everything about Nancy Wheeler. I take you two were partners?”

Steve scoffed. “I was the only danseur who would put up with her diva attitude.” He shrugged. “Mainly because I could out bitch her. She was a talented ballerina, completely wasted on Indiana, but she didn’t want to leave her younger siblings when things were getting rough between their parents. It was a whole fucking mess.”

“You said that an understudy performed a leap wrong and that you got hurt?” Eddie murmured, squeezing Steve’s hand. “That must have been heartbreaking.”

“She lurched to the side,” Steve said, “and I pulled a muscle. And frankly I wasn’t heartbroken, I was relieved. I didn’t have to live up to other people’s expectations anymore.” He shrugged. “Did a couple of odd jobs like the ice cream shop where I met Robin. I stripped for a couple of years and made a decent amount of money, but the boss was a sleaze and would pay you based how willing you were to sleep with him. And since he was straight, you can imagine how that went.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I know. Almost everyone of those people out there dancing for me have similar horror stories.”

“When we got the job at the rec center,” Steve continued, “we figured that it would be where we’d finally settle at. There were instructors there that had been there for ten years or more. We could finally make enough money for Robin to go to school and get her degree.”

“And then it fell apart.” Eddie was angry on their behalf. They shouldn’t have had the life they led. They were good people. “I’m really hoping that you and Robin will stay for as long as you need to.”

Steve smiled up at him. “For as long as these legs work, you’ve got me.” His breath caught when he realized how close they had gotten. Their breath mingled together. All he had to do was lean just a little more...

Then there was a sudden knock on the door. Eddie didn’t spring away, which Steve was grateful for, but he gave his hand a squeeze and stood up.

“Come in!” Eddie called, moving to lean against the desk as if he had been there the whole time.

Chrissy came in with a struggling Nancy Wheeler in tow. She pushed the journalist toward the second chair and closed the door tightly behind her. Chrissy sneered. “Look at who I found sniffing around the garbage bins.”

“Did you give her to Benny?” Eddie asked with a grin. “I’m mean if she’s dumpster diving for food, I’m sure we could persuade our cook to make up her something so she doesn’t starve.”

Nancy gave a disgruntled gasp at the very thought of her dumpster diving. “I beg your pardon!”

“Kinky,” Chrissy said wagging her eyebrows suggestively. “Who would have thought the princess was into BDSM?”

“I would never sink to the depths of depravity,” Nancy snapped, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “that you lot seem to sink to here.”

Steve shook his head. “I just don’t get it, Nance. You weren’t this militant about sex before. You weren’t a hippie by any means, but Jesus H. Christ, this is extreme.”

“If you would just walk away from this place,” she huffed, “maybe I wouldn’t have to push so hard. I’ve been hearing around that you’ve done pole dancing of some form since you left us, pretty much. You could have done anything with your craft but you chose to demean yourself by taking off your clothes for strangers!”

“Have you seen him strip?” Chrissy asked her honestly. “Because he’s good. I never got to see him do ballet, but he is sooo good at this.”

Nancy glared at her. “Of course I have,” she huffed. “Jason brought me here one night to show me what the depths this place sunk to. Everything was gaudy and over the top. Gold everywhere.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance and then burst out laughing. Steve licked his lips as he tried to suppress a smile. He didn’t think he succeeded.

Nancy was looking at all of them in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

“You think Steve is a backup dancer?” Eddie asked wiping away a tear and holding his ribs with one hand. “Honey, he’s a headliner.”

Nancy glance back and forth between Steve and Eddie. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh Saturdays and Sundays,” Chrissy explained, “Steve is either part of the trio of co-headliners that include Eddie and me or his the main solo act. He’s Envy. And a damn fine one, too.”

“But why would you hire an outsider to fulfill a major spot like that?” Nancy huffed. “And why Steve? He was only the lead danseur because I insisted on it.”

“Fuck you too, Nance,” Steve spat. “I earned my place same as you. And if the director didn’t have a crush on you, you wouldn’t have been the lead in anything, your attitude notwithstanding.”

“Gross!” Nancy hissed, jumping to her feet. “You take that back! Murray Bauman did not have a crush on me. That’s disgusting.”

Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his legs. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

“If you’re out to get us closed down,” Eddie said, steering the conversation back around to the important part, his club, “you’ve got nothing. You’ve got worse than nothing. You’ve got hurt feelings and stubbornness that rivals God.”

“What about Steve falling off the stage?” she asked haughtily, looking down her nose at them. “It’s not safe, clearly!”

Steve snorted. “Like you actually care. Accidents happen.”

“Plus,” Chrissy said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “one accident in God knows how long. I don’t remember a dancer having one in all the years I’ve been here. There’s always going to be accidents with patrons or wait and cooking staff. That’s inevitable.”

“You’re forgetting when Amy broke her leg,” Eddie said seriously. “That was about three years ago, though.”

Nancy eyes lit up at the idea of a morsel she could sink her teeth into. “Oh, yeah? What happened to her?”

Eddie and Chrissy shared a glance.

“Right,” Chrissy said, pushing Nancy toward the door. “I think that’s about enough of you. If you aren’t out of the parking lot in five minutes I’m having Eddie call the cops and hand them the recording of you snooping through our trash which is private property. Shoo!”

Nancy saw herself out and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Fuck.”

~

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975 @garden-of-gay

[bimboothefool]

Reader was taken kidnapped by Wally and taken to his world. But what Wally didn't expect is that all the other characters would start to remember memories with the reader as a child and discover the truth of their colorful world.

( Now it's up to you to decide what will happen! Will they help the reader get back to the real world or will they become so attached to the reader that it would help Wally keep them there with them FOREVER. )

ℌ𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔶 ℑ’𝔪 ℌ𝔬𝔪𝔢

𝔗𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰: Kidnapping, Yandere Behavior (You know the drill keep this shit in fiction.), Stockholm Syndrome, Amnesia, Possessive Behavior, Wally manipulating the others, and Gaslighting

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔏𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯: Thank you so much for this request and I apologize for taking so long so much came up, but regardless thanks for the request let’s jump right in!! Keep in mind it could either be read as platonic or romantic regardless spoiler alert they don’t see you grow up.

- Wally was surprised to see you after all these years. Same thing with the rest of the crew, your eyes are definitely different instead of that whimsy you’ve once held. You’re rather cautious, it still wows them how different you are now.

- Wally did believe for the time being that he’s the only one who truly remembers you and for a while that’s true. But once you’re in their world things started to change.

- Eddie and Frank are the first few to notice that you looked oddly familiar. When he asked specific questions about your childhood it started to click for him.

- Sally and Julie are shocked that you remembered the lines of a play or the rules of a game. They start to ask themselves the same questions why do you look so familiar yet different.

- Howdy, Poppy and Barnaby are a bit unnerved when you remember stuff like the residents orders or certain joke punchlines. Even certain recipe ingredients. How come you know those things.

- They all meet together to discuss the possibility of how they felt so familiar with you, but this is seemingly their first time meeting you. They all come to the conclusion that they’ve met you before. [Excluding Wally since he fully remembers you.]

- For a while they’re all happy to have you back, but you’re getting homesick. You constantly ask questions on how to get back to your world. But they’re not even sure if it’s possible.

- But only Wally knows a way in and out of their world and keeps it out of your grasp. He even starts manipulating the others.

- “We have them back, why let them go now? Don’t you all miss having our best friend?” He asked the others as they’re all conflicted. Sure they miss you and love you, but was keeping you here really right?

- This could go one of two ways. The first being they do buy into Wally’s twisted line of thinking, why go back to such a troubled and dangerous world? You can stay here and everyday is nothing, but joy and laughter.

- They’ll start gaslighting you into buying into this logic as well, which really freaks you out and you start lashing out. They see this as you throwing a tantrum.

- Another way this can go down, they aren’t sure and start asking you why you want to go home. And you explain that yeah your world isn’t perfect, but it’s still your home.

- Soon they all start talking about how to get you back home, out of Wally’s watchful eyes. You all start to unraveling and untying the mysteries of their world and Wally’s existence.

- Either way it’s ultimately up to you to really choose your own path on how things will play out.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my stuff please feel free to check out my other stories from other fandoms, along with reblogging and commenting on it! If you like my art and wanna commission me for some art, head over to my kofi!

[cormorant-red]

I played 999 recently at @xivu-arath's recommendation, and I had so much fun that (inspired by that one polygon video) I illustrated my liveblog about it!

If you haven't played 999 and you are even a little bit intrigued by a puzzle/mystery visual novel with multiple timelines that all guide you towards wild plot twists...probably don't read the text! 999 is the kind of story that is best experienced with no knowledge besides the basic premise.

Transcript below the cut:

Cormorant: characters in this game really just say shit like "have you heard the story about the crystallization of glycerin?"

as a matter of fact i haven't, june, please enlighten me

Storm: "I know we're stuck in a freezer but. let's talk about weird mythical science!"

Cormorant: it's also killing me that junpei is dressed like marty mcfly and isn't sharing any of his jackets

-----

Cormorant: this game is leading me to arrive at mathematical concepts on my own. what the heck

Storm: kshgushhsg

I take it you're having a good time then

Cormorant: trying to check lotus's work and it turns out that no matter what group i arrange to take through a door, the people left behind will always have the same digital root

so to get through door 7 with snake missing, i could either send a group with sum 16 (junpei, ace, clover, and june) or with sum 25 (clover, june, seven, and lotus), but it doesn't matter because the remainder always have root 9 and can't get through doors 3 or 8! wild!

Storm: yeah the numbers and which doors end up barred to you is so cleverly deliberate

-----

Cormorant: i'm glad i finally checked what novel mode meant, because this is way more fun

Santa cocked his head to one side, like an inquisitive bird, and looked at them.

After several long moments, during which it became apparent that Santa had no idea what the cards meant, June took pity on him.

i'll have to go back and redo the beginning after i get to the first ending

Storm: oh yeah! as I recall that was done differently when it was originally a dual screen game... but it's much better when in novel style. gimme all the descriptions

-----

Cormorant: I had a long day of sitting though presentations and so I entertained myself by calculating digital roots

I discovered that adding 9 or any multiple of 9 to a number has no effect on the digital root, which is awfully interesting bc I got to the part where snake gets killed. Assuming door 3 was opened with 12 and not 21, the options are 7+3 (motive?), 6+4 (they’d both have to be REALLY good actors), or 9+1. And if bracelets work without a body attached, and if ace picked it up in door 5…

That would be a really useful tool to get around the 3-person minimum without altering the digital root

I’m also very intrigued by the theory that zero is also in the game but I don’t know what to do with that yet

Storm: forlornly having to keep myself from saying literally anything

Cormorant: Understandable, please don’t give me any hints! I’m just calling shots for the joy of being wrong

-----

Cormorant: and how do you know that, my traitorous friend?

Santa: “The RED doesn’t need a person, you know.”

Santa: “All I need is the bracelet.”

-----

Cormorant: y’know what i think he’s bluffing. he does need June specifically and that’s why he refused to consider leaving her when they first found door 9. if all he needed was a hostage, he could have grabbed junpei and forced ace to come along, and then he would be dealing with two people under duress instead of three

i peeked at a guide and apparently i found the ending adjacent to the true ending(?) first, oh well. time to see the others!

santa: i said i don't want to leave seven alone

me: bud you can't do a heroic sacrifice too, it'll mess up all the math

reader, he was not doing a heroic sacrifice

-----

Storm: got any character opinions or theories to share so far?

Cormorant: hmm I’ve got soft spots for santa and lotus maybe just because they were in the first group I went with. I like that the game makes a point of showing that lotus is quick with the math/technical knowledge. I warmed up to clover and seven more than I expected to! I have no evidence to mistrust ace….but I don’t trust him

Snake died before I before I could say two words to him

Or…didn’t. Forgot clover said he didn’t

I got info about the previous experiments from clover and I wonder if we’re like…reenacting the past somehow? Experiencing morphogenetic resonance with the last voyage?

Again no evidence i just wonder where the pseudoscience is going

Storm: santa was so my type as soon as I started playing that I just picked all rooms with him on my first run skugrhsghu

Cormorant: AHAHA that makes me feel better about going “yeahhh door 4 I like the cut of this guy’s jib”

-----

Cormorant: “the bracelet comes off when your heart rate reaches zero” interesting then that we’ve brought up cryostasis

-----

Cormorant: i simply don't trust him not to have a spare bracelet in his pocket!!!

They climbed into the elevator and Junpei listened to it creak and rattle its way to the bottom deck. Only Junpei, Ace, and Lotus were left.

As the elevator rumbled out of sight, Ace spoke.

Ace: “Lotus, would you be so kind as to go with me?”

Cormorant: “bad end” YEAH I’LL SAY

Storm: lkksghr yeah there's a few of those!

Cormorant: santa was really quick to declare that he, june, and seven needed to go with clover. waht's his game

june and ace could have done it just as easily

Storm: they could have! good catch

maybe he just thinks seven is cooler than ace,

Cormorant: i'm imagining clover taking all her grisly trophies to the door only to find it already engaged, because lotus needed no persuading,

and regarding the true ending requirements, it's also funny that santa's like "i hate this bookmark! get it out of my sight!" and this is a huge help in junpei befriending the girl who's otherwise about to snap

Storm: load bearing bookmark

Cormorant: good thing you threw that tantrum bud or you would have been killed with an axe

-----

Cormorant: in my suspicions i forgot a critical detail, which is that he didn't actually go into the door with the body this time

of course seven has been propping doors open, so it really could have been anybody

-----

Cormorant: "where have these 16 boys and girls disappeared to?" eight for each game and then an experimenter? again with the idea that zero might be in the game...

-----

Cormorant: bad endings complete! on to the normal ending, which hopefully has less of junpei getting stabbed to death

puzzling over who could have done all those murders, especially in the sub ending...or did everyone get killed? clover thinks that snake's death was faked. or did snake do all the murders, since he was the only one unaccounted for?...and then i remember what kind of game i'm playing. can't discount the ice mummy as a suspect.

Storm: you truly cannot ignore the possibility of the ice mummy

-----

Cormorant: ah no, so santa's sister was the kid that died...

i can't figure out the connection between events! why did the last games have the veneer of a science experiment, while this one has no context given? why was it all kids last time, and a random mix of ages this time, with some repeat subjects?

-----

Cormorant: called it!!!!

Junpei: “Ace, Guy X, and the 9th Man’s bracelet.”

Junpei: “That was all you needed to open door [3].”

Cormorant: called it before i even got to an ending ehehe

what i’ve been saying!!

Ace: “(9) is a potent ally in the Nonary Game.”

Ace: “Adding (9) to any set of numbers won’t alter the digital root.”

Ace: “As you can see, (9) is a very useful number here.”

Ace: “With it, one can go anywhere, with anyone.”

Ace: “It is, I suppose you could say, a game changer.”

-----

Cormorant: okay, normal ending finished! junpei did not get stabbed but we also didn’t resolve much…I’m now thinking that ace with his pocket drugs could have easily played dead in the sub ending

glad to see that snake is okay and hopefully can stay okay in the true ending. where did clover get that riddle, and will she still have it?

0=6. how much do I read into this

still don’t understand how we get from here to santa hostage situation. he’s been so consistent about not even considering betraying or abandoning people, so either he’s a better actor than ace…or it’s staged. are he and june in cahoots

Storm: augh so close now!! soon I can actually say things

-----

Cormorant: O FUCK

Seven: “Santa’s always in the room with her. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

Snake: “Yes, that’s right.”

Clover: “What about it…?”

Snake: “That’s quite simple, really.”

Snake: “You told me that the first time you came to this room…”

Snake: “…Santa was the first to refuse to leave June behind.”

Snake: “Now, doesn’t that beg the question “why?” Why would Santa do such a thing?”

Snake: “The answer is easy.”

Storm: B)

Cormorant: i've been thinking of them as a pair because it makes the math easier! if you've got 3 + 6 + 8, just cross out the ones that make 9 and don't even bother with the addition, your root is 8

Storm: B) B) B)

Cormorant: but god!! they are a pair, do not separate (or the jig is up)

Storm: they hid it soooo well

-----

Cormorant: was wondering when we would see the last cradle guy and oh duh, he was guy X

i did think it was odd that santa phrased it as "i need to leave two of you behind" rather than "i need three of you to come with me," but if he was responsible for everything (most things?), he knew that snake was there, and he was setting up a group that could follow him. excited to see where this is going!

[dreamy sigh] this game is so elegant. what a little puzzle box

Storm: yeah it is, it's just so wonderfully crafted. so little is wasted!

-----

Cormorant: oh boy [akane vision label]

"through the morphic fieldset we were resonant, and we were as one" i don't think i've mentioned it before but i'm constantly pleasantly surprised by the narration in this game. it's not flashy but it's evocative in a way that's really working for me

Storm: this is where the port falls short a bit of the original version... the ds really worked well with this aspect

-----

Cormorant: the number of times i thought "this will be totally wrong but i'll say it to storm anyway"

hello??? [arrow pointing back to the message “I wonder if we’re like…reenacting the past somehow? Experiencing morphogenetic resonance with the last voyage?”]

Storm: Y E A H

Cormorant: laser-guided spitballing

-----

Cormorant: man i said that 4+6 would have to be really good actors if they were the ones that opened door 3...and while they didn't kill snake, i sure underestimated our queen of the stage akane kurashiki

the baseline was NOT where i thought it was

Storm: no one does it like her