#there's no need to get all this before the switch/game but i like being prepared

[bluelockmaniac]

reaction to you wearing a bikini - reo & nagi (separate)

ft. reo, nagi cw: mentions of gunfire (video games), fem! reader

reo

in preparation for an upcoming pool party with your friends, you had asked your boyfriend to accompany you bikini shopping at the mall. of course, reo, being the filthy rich man he is, agreed to take you to the finest boutiques (he wants you to look better than your friends).

reo followed you across the mall, patiently waiting as you window shopped at each clothes store. after picking out a large selection of bikinis without a care in the world, you hurried to the fitting room.

when you first left the room, his eyes widened like never before; he was entranced by your beauty- captivated by the way the lace ties hugged the sides of your hips ever so tightly.

"woah," he'd finally manage to say, "you look gorgeous..."

you giggled at his compliment and an hour later, you finished trying on all of the bikinis and had thrown them into your shopping basket.

"so, reo, which one looked the best on me? which one should i ge-", before you could finish your sentence, he cuts you off while waving his card in front of you. "all of them. you're getting all of 'em."

you give him a soft frown before pinching his cheek gently. "baby, i don't need twenty-three bikinis, i just n-"

your efforts were futile as reo was already talking to the lady at the cashier.

nagi

for the past thirty minutes, you've been on a facetime call begging nagi to come over so he could compare, rate, and choose the perfect bikinis for you. after all, summer vacation was right around the corner, and you had to prepare the ideal beach wardrobe that would enhance your appearance. so why was nagi refusing to come over, arguing it would be a hassle, despite your persistent pleading? "nagi," you sighed, rubbing your temples in frustration, "can't you just come over? you could bring your nintendo switch too, ya know?" "...nah, 'tis too much of a hassle..." he mumbles softly while concentrating on the rather graphic game running on his computer, flashing lights bouncing off his face and loud gunfire sounds distracting him from focusing on you. then a thought hit you, one that he wouldn't, more accurately couldn't, resist.

so, here you were, posing for nagi and changing into one bikini after another, after drawing his focus away from his ridiculous game and insisting he needed to concentrate on you. upon first noticing your silence, he wasn't concerned and shrugged it off indifferently- that was until he heard your voice calling him from the other end of his phone. "ta-da~" you'd croon, quietly laughing at the look your boyfriend wore—his lips were slightly parted, a light pink blush dusting his pale cheeks. "holy shit," he'd finally gasp, not realizing he was holding in his breath from the breathtaking sight of your half-nude body on his screen, "change into the next one for me, baby." to say the least, you were pleased with yourself for having managed to redirect nagi's attention away from his beloved video games and onto you.

comments are very much appreciated, thank you!!!

[azsazz]

Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

_________________________________________

“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

[ceesimz]

panna

Not my best work, but it was fun to write nonetheless. FYI: panna means nutmeg, but it's also a playground/street football game where it is either a 1v1 or basically a huge free-for-all and you had to get as many nutmegs/pannas as possible - great memories :)

Living with Leah was a much different experience than you thought it would be.

The first time you met her she was a little shy but the more you got to know her, the more enamouring she was and before long you had completely fallen for her, as had she for you. Each date, you peeled back another layer of each other's personality and you saw a side to her that was inexplicably softer than the sometimes rather grumpy, stoic demeanor she had for her career. It was easy to like her, adore her, and eventually love her, and you made sure to offer her a safe space for her to let go in when she was away from the view of the public. She did the same for you, allowing you to switch off when you needed to in her presence. Ultimately, the relationship was so rewarding and comforting, it seemed almost too good to be true. In moments of self-doubt and insecurity, you felt like you were just waiting for the shoe to drop.

And when you moved into your new house together, that shoe did indeed drop, but in a way you didn't expect.

As time went on of you sharing the same space, an extremely irritating side of Leah came out in full force. You had seen glimpses of it so far of course, and it never failed to make you laugh, but living with her? It was next level.

Leah seemed to embody the nature of that of an annoying younger sibling or a tiresome teenager who had a maddening addiction to just being absolutely infuriating. When she was in a certain type of giddy mood, this habit seemed to reach new heights. You loved it, but sometimes it felt like you were going to explode with the aggravation you felt towards her.

You know that saying of if you don't react, they'll get bored and stop? Yeah, that didn't apply to Leah.

"Leah, I'm trying to cook dinner, put the football away please." You started out by asking her politely as you manned the pasta in the pot on the hob, your girlfriend doing kick-ups by the fridge.

"I'm alright here, babe. I won't get in your way, swear. Just wanna be with you, and I am bored." That's kind of sweet, you guess.

Deciding that the pasta can survive without constant surveillance, you step away from it to unload the dishwasher but clearly Leah doesn't agree with that.

"Nah, forget that, I'll do it later. Come here, one versus one." She grins, quickly flicking the ball between each foot.

"And why would I do that as someone who doesn't even know which foot to use?" You raise an eyebrow and stand across from her with your hands on your hips.

"Bit of fun, babe, lighten up. Let's do a game of panna." She teases, passing the ball to you. "You first."

"What is panna?" You frown, confused.

"Just try to nutmeg me." Leah rolls her eyes, though she knows your knowledge of football lacks compared to her as someone who lives and breathes the sport and has done all her life.

You squint your eyes sceptically at her, before slowly inching towards her and attempting to dribble the ball the way you've seen her do it probably a million times. However, as soon as you get close, she removes any gap between her feet and instead stands like a penguin.

"How am I supposed to nutmeg you when you stand like that?" You scoff, but she just smirks smugly at you and shrugs.

"No one likes a quitter."

"No one likes a stubborn girlfriend that forces her girlfriend to play a game that's impossible to win." You hit back, and a smile tugs at your lips as you see Leah suppress a laugh.

"Fine, let me go against you." She steals the ball from your feet in the blink of an eye, and now the cards are stacked impossibly against you.

"Right, 'cause this is totally fair."

You roll your eyes but nevertheless prepare to defend your pride against the decorated footballer that stands before you. This little stand off lasts all of two minutes as Leah performs as many standing tricks as she can - it's hard not to laugh because, despite the talent she's portraying, it just looks like the result of a button-spamming FIFA player.

Finally though, you gain the confidence to lunge at her to get the ball back, but Leah of course spots this immediately, and flip-flaps the ball straight between your legs.

"Panna! You just got your shit rocked, baby." She celebrates as if her performance wasn't as easy as stealing candy from a baby. You watch as she cheers quietly to herself under her breath and dances like a fool. If the world could see her now, you think.

Feeling slightly humbled, you go back to your place at the stove, finding comfort in your cooking skills at least.

...This oddly felt like you were playing into some kind of stereotype.

"Put the ball away now, please." You tell her once more, but as ever her ego takes no prisoners.

"Aw, is someone's ego hurt?" Leah pouts pitifully at you, her hands falling to your waist when she stands behind you. You weren't having it though, not when she had humiliated you purely for her own ego.

"No, I just have many dangerous weapons in my arsenal here and I wouldn't want the leader of England to come to any harm." You return the patronising pout on her face, swatting away her hands and wagging the pasta ladle you had just pulled from the boiling pan in her face.

"Alright, message heard." She walks away with her hands surrendered.

For the next five minutes that the spaghetti spends boiling, you both exist civilly in the same area whilst doing different things. You're preparing for dinner as Leah is of course dilly-dallying with the football again. Each punt against the ball as she does kick-ups or ridiculous little tricks slowly grinds your gears, until she eventually begins occupying floor space in the kitchen that she obviously knows you'll use.

"Move, please, I need to drain this pasta." You say initially, a bit of bite to it but not as much as you easily could reach. However, she doesn't move, and instead gets in the way even more. "I have a pot full of boiling water here, move!"

You shoved past her where she was messing around with the ball near the sink, a shit-eating grin on her face which its only purpose is to infuriate you more. She does move out the way though, lifting the ball up into her arms with the foot, but she only steps so far away.

"What are we having?" She asked in an all too innocent voice, watching as you drained the pasta - the aggression you did this simple task with probably should have been a warning sign to her. But that had never stopped her before.

"Spaghetti, what does it look like?" You shake your head at her. "And you will eat it this time."

You were yet another unfortunate victim to Leah's limited and fussy palate.

"Not my fault you used a rank sauce last time. You better have gotten a new one." She grumbled like a picky toddler, starting her kick-ups again right in front of the next cupboard you need to get into.

"Put that fucking ball away before I stab a knife into it." You snap, pushing her out of the way with one hand and getting out the aforementioned new sauce. "See? Is this better for you, princess?"

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart." Leah smirks, referencing the sassy tone and mocking pet name you used for her as you shoved the jar into her face to prove a point.

"I'd like to see you try." You scoff, heading back over to the stove.

She falls suspiciously silent as you put the spaghetti and sauce into the pan. You try to pay no notice, watching out of your peripheral vision as she slowly makes her way back over with her hands behind her back.

"What are y-"

You're disrupted by her kicking the ball in between your legs, it clunking scarily loud against the glass door of the oven.

"Another one! Call me Ronal-fucking-dhino!" Leah laughs giddily, scampering away like a naughty child.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself so that you didn't chase after her with one of the multiple weapons within reach around you.

However, sticking true to your threat, you grabbed a knife from the draining board beside the sink and sunk it into the ball that had been the bane of your existence for the past however long it's been in Leah's possession. It wasn't a sentimental object, you wouldn't do that to her, thankfully it was just a ball she had picked up from the supermarket one day she had been determined to tag along as you did the grocery shop. The poor thing let out its final breath as the air puffed out of it, a sign you had won the battle. With a slightly manic grin, you went on making the rest of the meal as if nothing had happened.

Luckily you were able to cook the dinner without any further childish interruptions, though you did have half a mind to pour the whole shaker of salt onto her portion. But no, you can rise above this kind of behaviour. A household prank war against this woman-child could lead to an unfortunate break-up. Though you did just get an adrenaline rush from murdering a harmless football, so maybe it was already on.

"Leah, come here and sort your cheese out." You shout into the apartment, not a clue where she had gone off too.

Although, you forgot the scene she would walk into, only realising when a sharp gasp sounds through the room.

"What... the hell did you do?" Leah whispers in a dramatically heartbroken voice, kneeling to the ground and delicately picking up the punctured ball. You turned and rolled your eyes at the sight that met you, forever astonished at the theatrics this girl pulls off.

"Better a ball than your head." You mutter under your breath. "Sort your dinner out, I'm not being blamed for ruining it this time."

You took your bowl and walked past where she was still on the ground, nudging her shoulder with your knee as you went by to push her over. Okay, maybe you did have tendencies similar to hers.

Leah joins you on the couch a few moments later, an embarrassingly scarce amount of parmesan in her bowl as she slumps down next to you with a groan.

"I'm not watching this right now, I don't want to participate in a fucking reading lesson whilst I'm eating!" Leah complains at the choice of TV show you'd picked for this evening: Narcos.

"Tough, I cooked so I choose." You shrugged and pressed play, the characters immediately talking in thick and fast Spanish that, despite the English subtitles, is too much for your poor girlfriend to deal with right now.

"That's not fair, you always cook." She grumbles, stabbing her fork aggressively into her food. You pause the show at that statement, turning to look at her with a face that conveyed pure and unfiltered rage.

"Did you seriously just complain that I always cook?" You question in a frighteningly passive tone. Leah glances at you from the corner of her eye, not daring to turn away from her bowl. "Really, Leah?

She grimaces at the use of her name when you probe her for an answer. All day, she had been toeing a fine line, pressing all the wrong buttons, and pushing her luck with you. This time though, she'd really done it.

"Watch whatever you want, I'm not eating with you." You stand up from your seat on the sofa and storm away to the bedroom, leaving a glum and regretful Leah in the lounge who does in fact change the show on TV.

Was it an overreaction? In an hour, you'll probably think so. But right now you couldn't bear to look at the woman downstairs. You both eat, sad and alone, in your separate rooms to think over your actions.

In fact, no, you didn't overreact. You were entirely in your right to get angry over a throw-away statement that Leah had made just to win one back against you. Her immature attitude and competitive nature took over and she made an unnecessary comment about an action you not only enjoyed doing anyway, but enjoyed doing for her. So, whilst Leah thought back on how she should have behaved better, verbalised herself better, you were satisfied with your actions.

When there was a quiet knock at the bedroom door twenty minutes later as you lay in bed on your phone, bowl on the floor and meal happily consumed, you gave no answer. Leah came in anyway, a sheepish and guilty look on her face.

"May I come in?" She asks shyly, only her head in view.

"As long as you promise to not be a complete arsehole to me anymore." You grumble, not looking at her.

"I promise, love. I am sorry. I have things to make up for my utterly stupid behaviour." She says, and that does pique your interest.

You grunt in affirmation, and the door opens to reveal her holding a few items: your favourite candle from the lounge, a hot chocolate, your favourite cookies, and the oil you often used to massage Leah whenever her muscles were giving her some discomfort.

"Maybe I could give you a massage, babe? I am sorry. I appreciate all you do for me, I was just being an idiot before who didn't know when to stop. I love that you cook for me, and eating dinner with you at the end of a long day is one of my favourite things, genuinely. I'm really sorry for making that stupid comment, I am." Leah tells you softly, an air of desperation to her voice. Through all the times she loves to piss you off, nothing made her feel worse than when you truly got angry at her.

"You must really be sorry if you're letting me eat in bed." You comment quietly, referring to the pack of cookies in her arms. She smiles and nods, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

"I am sorry. Get crumbs everywhere if you want, get your revenge." She replies and a weight lifts off her chest when you giggle slightly. "I love you, truly, madly, deeply. I'm so grateful for you and everything you do."

You reluctantly smile up at her from where you lay, then roll your eyes and hold your arms out for her.

"Come here, you massive idiot." You mutter, watching amused as she rushes to put her things on the bedside table before diving on top of you. "You're a wanker, number six."

Leah laughs into the pillow at the reference, nodding her head in agreement. She turns her face into your neck and places a few light, apologetic kisses there.

"I am." She murmurs, sighing a little and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "I wouldn't appreciate it if you started shouting that at my football games though."

"I don't appreciate you reciting a ninety's song in your apology though. Get some original material next time." You hit back, a smug grin on your face as she laughs again.

"I'll sing it for you if you want." Leah offers, voice slightly muffled by your neck as your body shakes with laughter.

"I think that would reverse all your efforts." You say, her humming in agreement. "Now, did you say something about a massage?"

The next morning, Leah believes all is forgiven from the previous night. But just to be sure, she hops out of bed since she's the first to wake up and decides to bring you a coffee in bed before you both were due to go out for breakfast with friends. It's a delight you welcome immediately, sighing contently when the hot mug is placed into your hands as you sit up against the headboard. Leah joins you in bed again, copying your position, and wraps an arm around you as well as kissing your forehead. She mumbles a few more words of apology into your ear as you drink, ensuring that you know how grateful she is for everything you do. You also welcome that with open arms, happy to hear her feelings towards you when she's not being an irritating little pest.

She watches you the whole time you get dressed for the day, and there's a soft smile on her face as she stood in the bathroom doorway whilst you put your earrings in, the finishing touch of your outfit. You mirror the smile she wears when she steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring endless compliments into your ear that send shivers down your spine. It's a sickeningly sweet moment, it would rot any witnesses' teeth had they been there to see it, but it's perfect and it's the couple that you recognise rather than the bickering one from the previous night.

You exit the bathroom together, your fingers intertwined as Leah leads you down the stairs. Though, just as you're about to leave, you spot a smudge mark on your cheek from your mascara in the mirror by the door, so you stop to fix it. Leah, with the patience of a toddler, somehow finds yet another ball and it's one you can't stab this time since it's a Euros 2022 ball. Even though she has just done her hair, begging you to straighten it for her, she starts doing headers. And that's where the morning takes a turn for the worst.

When you'd finished fixing your makeup, you head to the downstairs bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Then you hear a panicked shout, followed by a loud bang, and lastly the sound of glass smashing. Instinctively, you rush out the room to see if Leah's okay, thinking the worst, but it seems that the only damage she has is to her ego. And, subsequently, to her relationship.

The sight that greets you fills you with more fury than you'd ever felt in your life. Your mirror, the antique one you had been adamant at buying when decorating the house, lay broken on the ground. The frame was cracked, it was surrounded by glass, and the ball laying next to it was very clearly the offending weapon. The culprit cowered in the corner of the hallway, looking at you and waiting for a reaction.

And boy did it come.

The walls of the house shook with the scale of your voice as Leah flinched like she was physically impacted by each punch that your words delivered. Nothing offensive or harmful was said of course, but your language was certainly colourful and impactful. Each word was spat with a lethal amount of venom, and Leah wasn't sure she would ever see the light of day again; living a life banished to her house, individually glueing each piece of the mirror back together as you endlessly lecture her. Eventually though, you did have to take a breath. Leah took one at the same time, though she was a shell of herself as you glared at her.

Composing yourself, you stepped over the mess and opened the front door before turning to Leah with an unnerving smile. She smiled anxiously back at you, and it took everything in you not to laugh at the nervous, apologetic look on her face. At least she knew she had messed up.

The next time you speak, it's like nothing had happened, and that fills Leah with more fear than she'd ever felt in her life. She knows she's in for it when you get back later.

"Come on, my love, we have a breakfast date to attend."

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ ELATION ]

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A/N: This was originally an nsfw quick thought but it spiraled out of control so I guess it's a story sneak peak now?!…

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ]

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You look down on him. Pure joy on your face as he kneels, sitting there at your feet, and all at his will.

It feels so odd but intoxicating. You, so much smaller than him, who can only harness half the power he holds and are seen by everyone as the softest being ever to grace the hotel halls. You, an almost picture-perfect doll many thought fell from heaven, towering over one of the most feared overloads without a hint of fear in you.

Alastor at your whim, willingly, and all because you flattered him with your existence. So polite, so sweet, and so daring. You were fragile and fearless, an ordinary sinner who had him wrapped around her little finger within minutes of your first meeting.

And you knew it.

You knew it and you used it against him shamelessly.

One look from your doe-like eyes and he felt incapable of refusing any wish you asked of him.

It gave you a rush, confidence even, and boosted your hidden ego, knowing you could crumble such a powerful demon to his knees so quickly. The slight smile you'd learned to showcase daily became a grin looking down on him now, in the confines of his room, in the dead of night…

You'd come to him for attention, and though he was busy preparing the script for his next broadcast, he immediately disregarded it as you waltzed into his space.

“Hm, seems you missed me a lot, Al,” you teased him with a giggle, perching yourself on the sofa he'd just been lounging on himself and lowering your gaze as he crouched his taller frame before you.

A true gentleman….acting without being told to.

How sweet….

“My dear,” he addresses you quietly, smile ever present as you tipped his head up with your stocking-clad foot; the soft black fabric reached your thighs, drawing his attention to the exposed skin above it as you playfully nudged his chin to refocus his wandering gaze.

“My eyes are up here, sir. Don't you know it's impolite to gawk at a lady?” You flash a closed-eye smile while chastising him, crossing one leg over the other as he looks upon your face, but he finds it incredibly hard to leave it there as the silk of your nightgown shifts with your every move.

Alastor could easily rip it off, pin you down, and take what he wanted from you.

Use you for all your worth and dare you to run as he did…

He had the power to but basked in your control instead, loving the trivial games you'd play with his undead heart and undeniably amused by your confidence to do so.

You didn't need his affections, his ownership, or permission.

Protection or popularity wasn't your prerogative either…

You needed nothing from the feared Radio Demon…

Not a single thing…

But you would damn sure take everything from him.

“What is it that you desire, sweetheart? Tell me, and it's yours…” Alastor felt his chest lose all its air as you giggled again, humming quietly, hearing his offer and only answering him when you'd taken an excellent, sultry look at him.

“Anything?” you question him, reaching out to gently pet his ears, brushing the same delicate fingers through his town-toned hair a couple of times before tracing over his hidden antlers. Alastor felt an invisible shiver rack his body as you toyed with the familiar areas, aware of their sensitivity but selfishly stimulating them to get his reactions.

“Anything…you want..” the stag groaned lowly, smile growing tight as you massage his right ear before switching to the other and using that hold to drag him closer while uncrossing your legs. He obediently leaned in, the subtle scent of your aroused heat stirring a dormant hunger in him instantly and the plushness of your thighs fitting perfectly into his clawed hands as he reached for you.

You moaned quietly as he dragged his claws over your skin, careful not to rip your stockings, panting heavily against your clothed cunt like a starved man.

It'd been days since he last tasted you, had his fill of your cunt that you so graciously allowed him access to, and Alastor had long forgotten how to mask his greed for it…

He saw no point in hiding his craving when you came to him in a state like this. Demanding and desperate, just the same as he was.

“So…” you sighed in delight as he nuzzled his head closer, blood-red eyes drifting up to meet yours as you continued to speak, “…you’ll help me fall asleep then? One last time…”

A lie.

You both knew you'd return to him for all your needs, desires, and troubles.

“One last time “ meant nothing to Alastor and even less to you.

“Of course, I will, my darling…” he let the static drop from his voice, admiring how your small canines dug into your bottom lip, eyes lidding over with unmistakable pleasure.

That was all you needed to hear from Alastor, voicing no refusal as he shifted closer to your heart and moaned loudly as he passed his tongue over your clothed heat once, then twice before ripping it away with his sharp teeth.

You jolted from sudden action, not startled by Alastors microaggressions and rather proud of yourself for causing such a ravenous reaction. “Careful, or you might hurt me, Al…” you feigned concern, petting his head gently as a lazy smile tugged at your lips, and said deer demon responded to your coy reprimand by slowly lapping at your folds.

“Oh, mmm…” Your back arched from the velvet cushions you sat against, hands fisting the fabric of his red dress shirt as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs, effectively keeping you still.

His grip was bruising, a normal pain you'd come to expect since you tended to struggle to tease his efforts at pleasing you, but your little habit persisted.

“Y-you think- ahm…you think you deserve this?… To have me…t-to get anything you want…ah…” you writhed in his hold, glaring at him vengfully despite drowning in a pool of ecstasy everytime he passed his unruly tongue over entrance. Alastor chuckled at your brazen remarks, reveling your warmth as he switched between teasing your clit and exploring your inner walls, and you lost your breath from the familiar pattern.

He knew you inside and out, committed your every reaction to memory, and thrived off seeing your tender body betray your power-hungry mentality.

Your thighs trembled as his tongue slithered deeper into your cunt, leaving no inch of it unexplored while his gaze remained on your flushed face. He couldn't look away, not when you threw your head back before letting out a string of whimpers, blinking back tears as your hips rolled closer to his face.

He had you now, legs shaking, and your count steadily streaming a mix of his saliva and your cum.

He had you, and there wasn't a thing you could do to stop him.

You'd asked for it…

“Earn it…earn me…Alastor,” you praised his efforts through grateful moans, vibrating with pleasure as the coil in your stomach curled itself impossibly tight the longer he feasted on your cunt. Stars dotted your vision as your high approached, his distorted groans and deathly grip coaxing it.

Blood trickled on your thighs, his nails gradually digging deeper into the fabric covering them, but you refused to care as Alastair brought you over the edge.

“That's enough..” you whine as his tongue swirls inside of your cunt, leaving nothing to waste as you come down from your high. He didn't relent to the ministrations, overstimulating you on purpose, and you tugged one of his ears roughly to correct him. Alastor grunted in pain, grimacing at you as he backed away from your entrance slowly, “What a violent little thing you are.” He chastises you, eyes narrowing as a huff leaves your lips, “And you're an arrogant son of a bitch…” you snap back childishly.

His eyes glow bright red at your snarky remark, smile widening as you follow it up with an innocent smile. No one but you could get away with talking to him that way, smug and inconsequential.

Indeed, Alastor would find a way to fuck the meaning of genuine fear into you…

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This was literally a drabble…ughh my writers block is actually debilitating atp… :(

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

His eye brow raise kills me everytime…like okay yes sir whatever you say sir mhm will do sir no need to ask me twice sir!!! ❤️ credit to the creator

[mo-ondrcps]

♖ ˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 ´ˎ˗

❛ life with casper, grim reaper.❜

: ̗̀➛ casper x reader (gender neutral) warning(s): nsfw content after the soft category. minors dni on that point! + some spoilers of the game if you haven't played it. genre: au — modern, supernatural, romance, fluff, smut. word count: 1.0K author's note: IM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN!! that i even tried to make this about him tehee. (i now know my type are grim reapers /bricked).

### ★ SOFT.

— this is based on the dlc, beyond the bet opening video and some of the artworks where he's now staying with you. he'll cook for you. casper will cook you breakfast, some homemade lunch and dinner for the both of you. (even if some of them are burnt. he's trying to get a hang of it don't worry!) all for his sunshine.

— you'd always find new flowers in your apartment every time the last batch that casper gave you now withered away. of course it's sunflowers that reminds himself of his sunshine. it's always been a good greeting to you after a long day of work, if not that an additional greeting from your boyfriend stealing you kisses, welcoming you home.

— hand kisses like a gentleman. will do it randomly just to catch you off guard and probably when you're not teasing him so he wouldn't be too flustered and shy away from doing so. he'll do it when you least expect him to so he would make fun of you for being so embarrassed.

— will sometimes help you relax in bath by giving you a massage on your back or wash your hair after a long day of work. sometimes because it really depends on your mood if you want his company or just want to be left alone for a while and he'll respect either option you give him. he'll also help do your nightly routine for you if you're that exhausted to move before drying you then moving you to the bed to relax.

— more of the gentleman and caring casper that he is, i believe he would open doors for you and if you have watched the video for beyond the bet dlc, if you forgot your umbrella he'll go straight away just to give you one. baby doesn't want you coming home and catching a cold. not on his watch! and the coat, the coat, the coat on your shoulders! (don't mind me rambling). make sure you're always warm and cozy.

— although if you did catch an illness expect worried and some light nagging from housewife, casper ("ugh, i told you so, sunshine") for forgetting an umbrella, a jacket when you forgot to bring one yourself. he'll prepare (and possibly search) what medicine and food mortals need to get well soon with some guidance from you. don't make him worry too much! he doesn't want to lose you (just like in the other universe- i mEan!).

— stealing his coat is a must (yes we're going back to his coat). so we all know he's neat and very dedicated to his morning and night routine, i just feel like it would be very comfortable to steal his. it would smell so soft and very casper that it would be too hard to give it back to him... without a little play fight of course! once he gets it back however, i feel like there would be teasing him here and there because casper would probably lean in and sniff his jacket after you wore it, just to catch your scent.

— "you know, you can always lean in and sniff me for yourself.", "i- i know that sunshine!"

— cuddles are always a must (even if azrael would most likely be in the middle of the both of you like your very own soul baby besides your pet). gives the warmest cuddles. i just know it, that man cuddles azrael bet every time he sleeps. he'd be hard to get away from every time you wake up for work though.

### ★ NSFW.

— he is a switch. it depends on the both of you on who wants to be in charge. there are times where he would tease you and take over. i believe he would take up half of the time and when he isn't too sure on the next you'll either guide him or coax him gently that you'll handle it. a very pouty baby because he wants to make sure you feel good this time and to repay you after all he's learned.

— loves praising, pegging ( i'm not too lost on what goes on with that one valentine's day art they made of him ). i kinda think roleplay as well, maybe. i'm not sure i feel like it would be nice to integrate the time where he wore a vampire look in one of the arts i saw and provide heated kisses and marks on your collarbone and neck.

— he'll whisper words of being possessive and protective of you too while he's at it. "you are my mortal. your soul, your body, your entire being belongs to me."

— he whines. the most prettiest whines you'll hear every time you sink onto him while riding him or whenever he takes over on you. will beg every time you edge him until he is very close to his high.

— i know i have said praising, but also, body worship. i'm taking reference from the artworks i've seen again but just taking your time kissing his skin while lifting up his dark shirt and telling him how beautiful his figure looks or slowly undressing him in general while leaving praises from your lips besides what he is doing is right while you guys do it.

— so from our soft point on the bath, if you're in the mood for it and need his company he'll join and help you relax. he'll help massaging your scalp, your back but also a bit on the suggestive side where he starts rubbing slow circles on your hip and thigh while his teeth nibble on the side of your neck and collarbone like a vampire trying to quench his thirst making you draw a heated gasp.

— enjoys orgasm denial and edging, anything to keep him so riled up and for you to tease him every time he's almost there just to hear his whines until you give him what he wants. only under a deal that he begs for what he wants and a bit loudly just to watch him writhe a little more before you give in to his long awaited reward with tears brimming his eyes out of pleasure.

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author's note: i was thinking of writing more of casper but with some mix of genres like supernatural, fantasy and what not as the type of fics i usually write but that will come soon. that's all from me from everything that i remember of casper! i can't wait to play beyond the bet once it releases and i hope you guys are excited for it too!

© MOONDRCPS. avoid stealing or translating my work to other sites. likes and reblogs on my works are appreciated ᵔᴗᵔ

[fourmoony]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐓: Chapter One.

After breaking your ankle in the wake of a break up, you're determined to get through your senior year without any interference from James Potter. That is, until his loyalty to loose cannon Sirius Black lands him straight in your lap. Or, rather, your kiddie-skate group.

CW: Language, mentions of broken bones, blood, physical violence.

I can't believe it's finally here. Enjoy, lovelies :)

James Potter

There’s five minutes left in the final period. Gryffindor are down by one and James refuses to start the season on a loss. He’d settle for a draw. But he will not allow his team to lose to Slytherin. Call him superstitious but losing the first game of the season is a grey cloud of doom that will follow them all year long and there’s nothing James Potter wants more than to bring Gryffindor to their fourth frozen four win in a row. Especially in his first year as captain. So, call him hell bent. James prefers motivated, competitive.

They’re due a line change. Sirius is losing steam and Remus has been favouring his left skate a little too much for James’ liking. Five seconds and the juniors will switch them out. But James has the puck, is trying to keep Mulciber as far away from his coat tails as possible, but Sirius can’t keep up. His eyes are on Remus, further up the ice, chasing Snape who’s making a break directly for James.

James bangs his stick against the ice, calls Sirius’ name. But it’s too late. Mulciber’s stick collides with the side of his skate at the same time Remus and Snape crash into him from the front. It’s an illegal play and the Slytherin’s know it. But it doesn’t stop the yell Snape lets out the minute he’s back on the ice, demanding the ref penalise Remus for shoving him into James. Sirius is there in a second, gloves dropped to the ice and his fingers curled around Snape’s cage. “That was illegal, and you know it, Snivellus.” Sirius grits out, pushing the Slytherin player back by his head.

Snape tumbles, the ref watches closely. James’ eyes fly to the board. They’re about to line change, the buzzer has paused, but if Sirius doesn’t play this right, he’ll still be in the sin bin by the time the buzzer goes. They need him for that final minute. “Pads, relax.” James warns his best friend.

Sirius Black is notorious for being The Loose Canon of the NCAA. It’s a strength and a weakness, James supposes. A lot of the lesser teams in the league give him a wide berth when playing Gryffindor. Between Sirius, Remus, and James, they have their routine for winning down-pat. But with Slytherin, it’s always a coin toss. They know how to rile Sirius, have him bench riding for the majority of the game. It’s what they’re doing now. James realises he might’ve been the one to get floored by Snape and Mulciber, but that attack was aimed specifically at Sirius.

Sirius who was supposed to be protecting James. Sirius who was too busy looking at Remus.

“Should’ve been keeping a better eye on your captain, Black.” Mulciber antagonises. His smirk is knowing, goading. James sighs and accepts his fate a mere second before Sirius is on Mulciber, helmet skittering across the ice.

There’s an evil crack from Mulciber’s nose. Blood seeping over the white ice like some sort of sick omen for the rest of the season. James looks around him, watches as the rest of the Slytherin’s approach, locks eyes with Remus. There’s an understanding there. They’re fucked. Royally. So, they might as well give Sirius a hand. James screws his eyes shut, gives himself a single second to prepare for the reaming Coach Moody is going to give him, then grabs Severus Snape, Slytherin captain, by the neckline of his jersey and punches him so hard he crumples to the ice like an empty water bottle.

The ref blows the whistle repeatedly, the team members on each bench cheer and bang their sticks against the boards. The crowd roars. And while James registers this is definitely not how he wanted the season to begin – fighting off Slytherin’s because of Sirius Black’s short fuse temper – he’s still so glad to be fucking back.

Alistor Moody isn’t a pleasant man to look at. He’s burly, with thin strands of straw-coloured hair and a glass eye that seems to swivel of its own accord. As though it’s come loose. The rumour is that the captain of his high school’s rival hockey team jabbed his stick into Moody’s eye. He lost his scholarship, his career, and he’s been living up to his name’s sake ever since. The man is moody. An old grump who James looks up to because his experience and no-excuses-attitude have helped James’ team win three Frozen Four trophies. So, the idea of letting him down sits heavy on his chest. Regardless of his loyalty to Sirius, he regrets punching Snape in the face.

If only because his coach hasn’t stopped screaming for twenty straight minutes and James really needs to get to his Econ class. Moody hadn’t said anything after the game. Had been unnervingly quiet and the anxiety of such a reaction from him has sat heavy in James’ chest ever since. He’d known this was coming. But he wishes he’d had more time to prepare. Or, at the very least, warn Professor Flitwick that he’d be late.

Sirius is nonplussed. Has been since the fight. It should irk James. Should annoy him that they’re seniors and Sirius is still pulling the same shit he’s been pulling since they were in little leagues. But he cuts him the slack he needs. Always has. Always will. Sirius isn’t as simple as most people think he is. He comes from a shitty home with even shittier parents and a shitty fucking past. So, he’s quick to anger? James allows it because it’s how Sirius copes. But he’s really over the reaming it’s landed him from Moody.

“I’m serious, this shit ends now.” Moody points a finger at them. Sirius sniggers into his fist. A tale as old as time, that he’d laugh at such a sentence. Their coach chooses to ignore it, carries on with a defeated sigh. “Dumbledore wanted you benched for the season. I talked him down to community service.”

“That’s bullshit.” Sirius’ voice sounds bored, and James knows he’s already coming up with a million ways to avoid doing such a thing.

“No, Black. What’s bullshit is that you’re still pulling this shit as a fucking senior. You’re meant to be setting an example to the freshmen! And you’re starting fights for no goddamn reason.” Moody slams a fat hand down on the desk and James flinches.

Community service of any kind is a hockey player’s worst nightmare. Especially at their level. They spend all their lives training, have barely any social life, and the time that they are allocated to actually have a life, now belongs to whatever sad sack community outreach programme needs their help. It’s bullshit, Sirius is right. But James doesn’t feel in any sort of position to argue with Moody, not when there’s the threat of a suspension on the line.

“The snakes started it! Mulciber could’ve broke James’ leg with that swipe.”

Sirius has always been someone to argue with authority. James admires his passion, but it’s clear they’re not getting out of this. Moody confirms his thoughts with a plain, “Regardless. You threw the first punch in an illegal fight. Started an all-out brawl. Your community service leaders will complete a sign in sheet each week. You miss a session; you’re benched at that week’s game.”

James allows himself to let out a long, suffering sigh. He’d started his senior year determined to actually put effort into his degree, as well as his captaincy. Now, he’s unsure how he’s going to balance everything. Fucking Sirius. “What’s the damage, then?” He asks.

The grin Alistor Moody gives Sirius and James is nothing short of pure evil. He’s cynical. James’ stomach sinks. “Black, you’re headed to the library. There’s a student writing a thesis paper, needs help citing books and the likes. You’ll help with that on Tuesday afternoons and Thursday evenings.”

Sirius slumps in his seat, unimpressed. “Fun.”

“Potter, you’re co-coaching mini-skate. Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings.” There’s something in Moody’s voice. Like he already knows what James’ reaction is going to be, that he feels somewhat guilty about it.

The room spins, James feels like he’s going to throw up. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his heart races. Even Sirius sits up in his seat, eyes wide.

“Moody you can’t make him do that. Let us switch.” Sirius begs as he leans forward.

The coach winces. “I tried. Dumbledore chose them specifically for each of you. I’m sorry.”

James’ mouth is too dry to talk. Not that he can think of any words to say, anyway. All he can think of is you. Your face when you find out who your new co-coach is. The way your heart will probably plummet like his did. He feels nauseous, too warm, too cold, he’s not sure. Last he saw you, you were crying in the passenger seat of his car, telling him how much you hated him. How you never wanted to see him again. He can’t say he blames you. The thing about James is that he’s an idiot. He doesn’t think things through. Lives in the moment, acts before he thinks because it’s what his hockey obsessed brain is trained to do. He ruined your trust and broke your heart because he’s an idiot. And now you’re being forced to co-coach with him.

He stands abruptly, excuses himself into the hallway outside Moody’s office. Let’s the cool wall press against his too warm back, slams his head against the concrete. Sirius closes the door behind him, toe tapping anxiously against the linoleum. “Good?” He asks.

“Next time you start a fight, Sirius, remember this moment. Remember how uncomfortable this is going to make her. Remember that I can’t not be your back up. You’re my best friend and I’ll always have your back, no questions asked. But this? Please don’t put me in this position again.” James tells Sirius.

Then, he turns and walks away. Down the hall, out of the sports administration building and towards his truck. All the while thinking about how much of a fucking idiot he is.

Sirius Black

Remus is running late. Not that Sirius minds, he’s grateful for the time alone. The time to think, to get his head straight. To digest James’ words. His best friend, his captain. He let him down epically and he regrets it. He wishes he hadn’t, but it’s not like he can help it. There’s something wrong with him. With the way his brain is wired. It’s the in the blood that runs through his veins, that dark and twisted Black temper. It’s a grey cloud over him, the itch in his bones. It never falters, never dulls. He’s so angry all of the time, always on edge.

He wishes he weren’t. He’s trying not to be so much of a fucking mess. It’s hard. To shake that darkness when it’s surrounded him so wholly for a lot of his life. He wants to be better, to do better. But there was something in Mulciber’s words at the game. An insinuation that made Sirius’ skin burn. He doesn’t want to dissect it yet. Maybe he’s not ready to. But he does know that if he doesn’t get his act together, he’s going to go from the NCAA’s biggest loose cannon to the NHL’s biggest loose cannon, and the Cannon’s will kick him faster than he can skate a lap. The irony isn’t lost on him, with that one.

Sirius catches sight of Remus weaving his way through the car park and starts his car’s engine. He’s trying not to show his limp. But whether Sirius wants to look into it or not, he’s acutely aware of how much he notices everything about Remus Lupin. He’s point zero for Sirius. He’s always tuned into him. Notices all of his winces, all of his tics, his moods. Even when they’re not obvious. It’s always been that way. Sometimes Sirius wonders if they share a brain simply because he acts without even having to think. Will grab the ice pack for Remus before he asks, turns the heat up on the heating pads without any comment from Remus. Knows if Remus hasn’t taken his medicine, knows when he’s in pain. It’s like a sixth sense.

He tries not to think about it, too much.

Sirius leans over and opens the door for Remus before his fingers can even brush the handle. He smiles as he climbs into the car, sets his backpack on the floor at his feet. Sirius’ heart returns to a normal pace. A pace he wasn’t even aware was missing until Remus got into the car, a peaceful thrum of his heart. “Doctor Holme said Hey.”

“How is my favourite Doctor?” Sirius asks as he pulls out of his parking space. He’s never met Doctor Holme, but he communicates with her solely through Remus on the days he picks him up from his weekly check-ups.

“Adamant I’m going to need a knee replacement if I don’t cool it with the extra training hours that I’ve been putting in.” Remus grumbles, eyes following the ramp onto the highway as it speeds past.

There’s a lot of pressure on Remus. He was an early draft, before he even really left high school. He’s a record holder. A big hockey name. Chosen before the full extent of such a demanding career took its toll on his body. Since freshman year, Remus’ muscle mass has deteriorated. He won’t have as long of a career as the average person in the NHL, but he’s determined to have what he can. Lately, it’s not looking like much. Not that Remus will tell Sirius exactly how bad it is. No, everything Sirius knows, he knows through observation. Or Lily.

It’s not in Sirius’ nature to let other people’s lives affect his own. But he’s noticed that the idea of Remus’ illness getting worse makes his chest feel tight and his brain kick into problem solving mode. There are many open tabs on his laptop outlining rehabilitation therapy options, bone marrow transplants, clinical trials. If Remus saw them, he’d go crazy. He prefers to live in denial. It’s the bane of Sirius’ existence.

“He might have a point.” Sirius tells Remus as he flicks his blinker on, merges onto the highway.

St Mungo’s hospital is twenty minutes out from Hogwarts but it’s the best hospital within a hundred miles. So, Sirius drives Remus back and forth to his appointments when he can. When he can’t, James takes him. Or Lily. It’s an unspoken agreement between the four of them. Remus had once tried to hide his appointments from them. It hadn’t ended well.

Remus scoffs. “I know he has a point, Padfoot. But if I’m not at the top of my game next year, how is that going to look?”

There’s an edge to Remus’ voice that alerts Sirius to danger. They’re similar, in a lot of ways. Nasty tempers and even nastier words. Except, Remus keeps his temper off the ice. Sirius has no control over his.

“Moody gave us community service.” Sirius switches the subject with ease as he switches into the lane closest to the exit ramp for Hogwarts.

“James told me, yeah.” Remus nods, shifting to face Sirius.

He swallows thickly. Of course, James called Remus after their meeting this morning. Of course, he needed someone to talk it through with. A reasonable source of advice. Because Sirius is aware he has no advice of value for the situation James finds himself in. The situation Sirius put him in.

“I feel like shit. He looked like a kicked puppy.” Sirius hates letting James down. Sure, he’s his captain and that should be enough. But James is Sirius’ best friend. His soul mate, his safe space. The person he’s been running to since he could run. James is strong and safe, he’s loyal down to his fucking bones. What had Sirius expected when he started that fight? For James to watch it happen?

He should have known. After all this time, he should have fucking known.

“James is a big boy; he knew the consequences when he punched Snape.” Remus speaks softly to Sirius. Like he knows the shame spiral he’s in and wants to help pull him out. James isn’t the only protector Sirius knows.

Where James is fair in his protectiveness, Remus often throws caution to the wind. He’s fierce in his loyalty. Sometimes to a fault. Like Sirius.

“You know James as well as I do. I jump, he jumps.” Sirius sighs, defeated. “I should have let it go. I knew they were trying to get me on the bench, and I still let them get to me.”

Remus hums, nods his head in a fair agreement. Sirius looks over at him for a second. Just one second before his eyes return to the road. His eyes are sweet and understanding. A sticky honey colour that Sirius finds he likes a lot.

“Maybe.” Remus mumbles, fingers reaching up to rub at the scar above his lip. A tic. A nervous one, born from Sirius’ eyes on him.

Sirius laughs. “Maybe?”

Remus laughs too, head tilted back, and the sound is so light and easy it breathes fresh life into Sirius’ lungs. Lifts the residual anxiety sitting heavy in his chest as they pull up to the house. “Okay,” He breathes, “You definitely should have walked away from that fight. But you didn’t. So now you just have to get on with it.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He looks over at Remus.

Remus smiles. It’s quick and fleeting, a smile that Sirius knows is reserved only for him. It warms his cheeks as he smiles back.

“You want dinner?” Remus asks as they pull into the empty drive.

James isn’t home, his parking space void of his stupidly oversized truck.

“Depends, what’re you making?” Sirius grabs Remus’ bag from the footwell, climbs out of the car.

Remus laughs, “A phone call. For pizza.”

Sirius moans from behind Remus, who’s fumbling with his keys for the front door, “You know how to talk dirty to me, Moony.”

Remus scoffs, “You couldn’t handle my dirty talk, Black.”

And, well. Sirius doesn’t think he has an answer for that.

You

You shouldn’t be surprised, in all honesty. You’ve been expecting him to attempt some sort of damage control since you’d spoken to Madame Pince, this morning. That conversation had gone over like a lead balloon; the exact reason you’re still skating. Two hours after your training ended. Even though the Zamboni guy is giving you a look suitable to someone who kicked his cat. Even though your ankle is throbbing, and Medic Pomfrey would chastise you for not taking a break. You’re technically not out of the woods yet, as she likes to remind you every chance she gets. Your ankle might be healed but you still have a lifetime of physiotherapy, it feels.

Skating is an out. It’s peace. Makes you feel free, like flying. It’s rare, these days, to skate for fun. For the enjoyment of the feeling that it gives you. You’ve been skating since you could walk. Competing since the minute you were old enough, talented enough. Eventually, skating for fun became a rarity. You love the sport with every bit of your beating heart. But it’s nice to stop the constant ebb and flow of anxiety, of competitiveness, and just exist on the ice.

James is sitting on the team benches, watching. There’s a sadness to him that you’d like to punch from his stupidly handsome face. So, you ignore him. Keep to the far side of the ice until your ankle is screaming at you to stop. James stands when you approach the bench, hands your water bottle over the board. It weighs heavy on you, the feeling of normalcy that such an action would once hold. It feels like an age ago that he would watch your practices, cheer for you even when he was the only one in the crowd. You snatch the bottle from his hand, take a drink while you wait for him to say something.

“Pince told you.” He states. There’s a hesitance on his face, readable in his body language. He’s flighty, unsure of how you’re going to react.

You hate that he’s unsure of how to act around you. Hate even more that it’s warranted. You’ve changed, over the summer. Made promises to yourself that no one will ever make you feel the way James made you feel, ever again. That breakup cost you nationals, last year. The heartache was a distraction. One that could have cost you your career. You refuse to let it happen again.

“She did. You’re here to do damage control, right? Tell me that you didn’t get to choose your community service. Tell me that Sirius started that fight, and you had no choice but to finish it. That you’re sorry, that you don’t want to make me uncomfortable. If you’re feeling extra sorry for yourself, you might even offer to take the suspension if it makes me more comfortable. That sound right?” You ask, face bored, arms crossed.

Hurt flashes in James’ eyes. Big and hazel coloured and stupidly kind, even now. “Sounds right, yeah.” His voice is thick, quiet.

James is usually the loudest voice in the room. Filled with laughter and a boyish charm that sunk it’s hooks into you and never quite let go. It’s odd, to hear him so quiet.

“Save it. Be on time, on Wednesday. We’ll figure it out as we go.” You tell him, gesturing for him to pass you your skate guards.

He does, wordlessly. Let’s you put them on and pass him through the box. You’re almost out of the plastic rink door when he calls after you. Every bone in your body tells you to keep walking, that nothing good will come from the desperation in his voice, the plea of your name. But you stop, turn. His gaze is burning, creates a lump in your throat that feels impossible to swallow. Your skin itches, your eyes water. The thing is, it’s still fresh. It’s easy to tell yourself that James is a person of your past when he’s not standing in front of you looking like a kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry. For everything.” He speaks.

“No, James,” You sigh, “You’re sorry that you feel like shit.”

He doesn’t respond. Looks like maybe the words have gotten lost in his throat. So, you leave him there, wet, hot tears falling down your cheeks the minute you’re gone from his line of vision. He doesn’t call after you, this time.  

And you hate the small part of you that wishes he would.

Lily is at the kitchen table when you find her. Not that it takes you long. Your apartment is the size of a shoe box, the maximum you could afford as close to campus as it is. It’s a mismatch of your décor and Lily’s, an eclectic mix that somehow works. There are books crammed on every surface, picture frames on every wall, odd, contrasting ornaments collected over the years. It’s a home, despite its small nature. A safe space where you can both leave the stress of your chosen careers at the door. Rare, is that the case, though.

Your skates thud against Lily’s recent thrift shop find; a cream and maroon rug that you’d call nothing short of an atrocity. The red head looks up from her laptop at the noise, blue light glasses halfway down her freckled nose. There are papers, pens, books, and cups of tea scattered all around her like some sort of tornado passed through the apartment. She, at least, looks apologetic about the mess. There’s no need, though. You’re both aware of the stress Lily is under this year.

“Have you eaten?” You ask, collecting the discarded mugs from around her and placing them in the sink.

Lily thanks you but shakes her head. She’s prone to forgetting she’s human and, in fact, needs food to survive. If she could, she’d survive off of tea and coffee, alone. You flick the kettle on to boil, pull a fresh mug from the cupboard. It’s one of Lily’s finds, a quirky handmade mug covered in oddly painted strawberries. She has a soft spot for the odd finds, the things someone once loved and then left to rot in the back of a thrift store. You think she should investigate that, psychologically. Lily claims she will, just when she has a spare minute.

“You want a sandwich and some chips? Something that won’t go cold when you inevitably forget it exists for three hours.” You offer, throwing a decaf tea bag into the strawberry mug and praying your best friend won’t notice.

“You’re so good to me. Yes, thank you.”

“Oh, I know.” You smile.

Lily doesn’t say much during the first couple bites of her sandwich. Judging on how it goes the opposite of forgotten, you assume she hasn’t eaten all day. If this is her at the beginning of the semester, you dread to see her during finals.

Her laptop discarded to the side; she picks at her chips. “Remus called a little while ago.” Her voice is laden with guilt.

You sigh, push your half empty plate towards one of her discarded textbooks. “Let me guess, it was a welfare check.”

Lily scoffs. “More like an SOS call. He wanted to know how mad you are at him. Told him you were a couple hours late home from practice so, like, astronomically mad.”

“Not at him.” You protest, rather childishly.

“No, not at him. I told him as much. You know what he’s like. He worries. He’s trying to balance it all. We all are.” Lily tells you softly, a crooked smile that reassures you she’s not mad about having to do it.

You wish things weren’t as awkward as they seem to be, currently. Lily and Remus grew up together, much like Sirius and James. Remus knowing both Lily and James is how you met your ex-boyfriend. You were a group. Close knit as can be. And you’re all still trying to figure out how to navigate that now things have changed. It’s exactly what you feared when you and James started dating. It was silly to believe his promise that nothing would ever change. That you’d never lose him.

Lily reaches a hand across the table, freckled fingers wiggling until you place your hand in hers. Her eyes soften, head nodding to show she’s listening.

“He came to the rink.” You tell her.

Surprise passes across her face. “Is that why you were so late?”

“No,” You shake your head. “No, he came right as I was leaving. Was planning on taking the suspension if it meant I’d be more comfortable and wouldn’t have to coach with him.”

Lily scoffs, “Classic James.”

You nod in agreement. For all James is an idiot who doesn’t think things through, he’s incredibly selfless. You think that’s why your breakup hurts so much. Because you want to hate him, it’d be so easy to hate him. But he’s a genuinely good guy who sometimes fucks up.

“I wish he’d stop putting everyone else first. Sirius flies off the handle and James chases right after him like he’ll die if he doesn’t. And I get it, he feels responsible for Sirius. It’s complicated. But I wish he’d just let Sirius deal with his shit on his own, for once.” You feel guilty for saying it as soon as you do, but you know Lily gets it.

Everyone does. Even Sirius.

His past is mostly privy between James and Sirius. But you know the gist.

“I know. They won’t get away with that shit in the League.” Lily agrees.

You sigh, long and suffering. It’s not your problem. At least, it shouldn’t be. If the fight that started this hadn’t landed James right in your lap and made it your problem.

“What’re you working on?” You ask, “Anything I can help with?”

Lily chuckles lightly, hands you a heavy stack of paper. “You could highlight all the paragraphs detailing anything to do with cell breakdown. But be warned, it’ll bore the shit out of you.”

You shrug, reaching over to grab Lily’s standard green highlighter. It’s her signature. Like Banksy. “A welcomed distraction, Lils.”

“Fair enough.”

And you both get to work.

[ninyard]

Heyy! You said someone should ask you about Kevin under this post about Kevin's struggles from the nest of which we don't know enough... So I'm asking you about Kevin! Please tell us your Kevin thoughts! You always make very good points and I like reading your thoughts!!

cody my friend I am so glad you asked but you might regret it. i hope you're prepared from an unorganised huge convoluted MESS of a ramble

i've been thinking for a few days about this one like... what would a kevin POV look like? what is he hiding? how does he cope? WHO IS HE?

the kevin we ""know"" is a "coward", an insufferable bitch, an asshole and a hardass. other people's opinions and view of him makes up the entirety of our impression of who he is. but that's not who he is. that's just who we're supposed to believe he is.

kevin, born and bred to have this... borderline psychopathic lack of empathy, who can look his teammates in the eye after being told seth is dead or andrew is being committed and say, "what about the game?"

but when the raven's are switching districts; his sense of danger and fear is paralysing. he's three steps ahead trying to figure out how to please riko, how to keep himself safe, willing to put himself back into the centre of his abuse just to stop riko from finding him and killing him. he has to get blackout drunk to deal with any amount of riko. he's frozen with fear by being in the same room as him.

kevin knows where jean's mind and body goes to when hes panicking, knowing his worst place is right back in the nest being drowned by riko. kevin telling neil "do you know what he'll do to you?" and "he'll break you" when neil asks for his ticket. kevin's text to him before he goes into the nest, and staring at neil like he'd seen a ghost when neil returns after the nest (when he looks like the butcher). his comforting "i know what he's like" or "i know how he sees you, i know it means he did not hold back,".

kevin nervous breakdown panic attack day vs kevin smile for the cameras one track exy mind day

im so intrigued by him. how does he cope? his mother is dead, probably killed by the mafia family he was raised by. he grew up into a cult, he was only a child watching neil's father cut a man into pieces in front of him. how many other's had he seen?

how many other injuries cover his body, in places where the cameras can't see? how many rapes and assaults was he forced to watch in the nest? how many beatings was he forced to participate in? what did he have to say to jean in french that he didn't want riko to hear?

he needs someone with him all the time because of the nest. he's a "health freak" because of the nest. his sleep schedule, his anger, his anxiety.

did he say "what about the season?" re: andrew after drake because he doesn't care, or did he think "i've seen this happen too many times. and they've always kept playing,"? did he think "andrew is the strongest person i know. andrew is stronger than me. he would never let this destroy him," knowing that it has?

nobody has protected him in his life apart from the cameras and andrew.

he's scared. he doesn't know what love is supposed to look like.

he's only been a human for a year.

his scars are healing for the first time in his life and they're not being replaced by new ones, but every day he's afraid that that's going to get ripped out from underneath him. his entire life already got flipped upside down when he left the nest. of course exy is the only thing he "cares" about.

because it's the only thing that's been certain in his life, and even for those few weeks or months where he thought he would never play again, he trained and trained, and learned how to use his non-dominant hand because he can't lose this. he can't lose exy like he's lost everything else.

kevin has never had anything stable in his life except for violence and exy. now he has people he's supposed to care about, and he has to change his priorities. he has to learn how live a life that isn't fueled by self-preservation for the first time ever.

jean was only in the nest for five years; and look at him. look at what the nest has done to his social skills, his view of himself, his self esteem. look at what it's done to him, how he expects violence and contrition, coach and always waiting and waiting and waiting for the punishment to come.

kevin might not have had the same level of physical abuse that jean had, but he was there far longer. the ravens existed before him; their mindset and their abuse and their violence and their poison.

he's been drinking the raven poison since his childhood. the only difference between him and jean other than those things above is that kevin had more pressure to hide it, because he was half of the face of the ravens, half of the face of Exy; media trained or PR trained or a master at being a fraud and faking the way he speaks when he's being recorded.

kevin knows how to hide his abuse because he has always had to, and he's had quite a lot of practice at it.

kevin has only been a human for a year. kevin has only been kevin for a year.

so who is he? does he even know?

or is he just Kevin Day, Raven Fox starting striker, number two, six foot two, left handed right handed left handed, heavy racquet, stick size five? is that all he will ever see himself as?

anyways. or something like that. maybe he is just an insufferable bitch for no reason at all. who knows!

[kitashinsukehoney]

PACTS FOR TWO - LEVIATHAN

tw: mdni. Nipple playing, spitting, creampie, blowjob, cunnilingus.

When you found about that Leviathan has two dicks, you can't believe it since he doesn't look like a man with TWO shlongs. Being curious, you wanted to know if it's true. The demon that has made a pact with you, Mammon accidentally said it to you few days ago and you can't get that information out from your head.

Since you haven't make any pact with Levi yet, you decided to give it a go. Plus Levi is so close to you, inviting you for sleepover, cosplaying and playing video games with him. Tonight, you're going to see those two heavenly swords with your own eyes.

You arrived infront of his room, and you wore singlet and shorts without bra at all. You knocked on his door and waited for him to open it up for you.

"Y/N!~ You're here. Come in. I have prepared a spot and snacks for you", he said, smiling at you. He noticed how your nipples perked but he didn't say anything. Maybe you're too comfortable with him compared to his brothers.

You sat next to him and smiled.

"Levi, your room is kinda hot eh", you said. Levi looked at you and realised his room is really hot. "Oh I'll turn on the air conditioner then", he stood up and walked to the switch area to switch on the aircond. You managed to pour Horny Potion into his carbonated drink and make sure he doesn't see you.

"Alright, I'm back. Feeling better now?", he asked, sitting next to you. "Much better", I said.

You lifted up the cup and started sipping your own drink. He then did the same thing before eating his fries.

You two started playing and as two you were getting into the game, you watched him getting flushed and hot? Somehow you can feel heat creeped to your body too.

"Y/N....", he whimpered. you turned your gaze to look at him and saw he already unbuttoned his pajamas, about to take it off.

"Levi..what happened?", you asked him, put down the game controller on the cushion and focused on him. "I feel so hot...and horny", he said, looking at you like you're a prey.

"I'm... feeling like it too", you said, as you sit on his thigh and dry hump him.

"I put some horny potion in our drinks...I want to make a pact with you, Y/N..", Levi confessed. you gasped and your eyes widened.

"I put...horny potion in your drink too", you said. He chuckled and pulled your body closer to him. He smashed his lips onto yours and both of you started kissing deeply. His hands crept underneath your singlet and fondled your breasts with his bare hands. His fingers pinching and pulling your perky nipples, making you moaned and cumming.

The horny potion make you two feel like animals in heat, and them both took off their clothes, indulging in each other's arms. You're now on his laps, as he kissed your chest, collarbones and neck, leaving hickeys all over them.

you straddled on his crotch, feeling him getting erection and you can feel two dicks. "Levi....I wanted you inside me...now", you pleaded.

He flipped the two of us, making you lay on the mattress as he's hovering over you. "You want my dicks? You want them?" he asked.

"Yes~ I want both of them stick inside me and breed me", you said. You watched his eyes filled with lust and desire. He leaned down to eat you out first, kissing your folds and clit. He pumped his long pretty fingers inside your sinful hole, preparing you nice and wet.

"Suck me", he said. You gave him a good blowjob and he cummed inside your mouth. You swallowed it, tasted the salty yet sweet taste. He blushed, feeling so embarrassed.

He lined up his dicks at you entrance, before pushing both of them each in your pussy and ass. you moaned loudly, gripping the bedsheet hard as your eyes shut tightly.

"You alright? Need to adjust?", he asked, kissing your forehead.

"You can move. This is not too painful", you said.

He started moving, and his hands separated your legs wide open and thrust harder and faster. You moaned out his name, eyes rolled back and your back arched.

"Mmhmm~, Levi!~ S' gooood~", you cooed. He smirked and leaned forward to suck your breast. He then pulled out a vibrator and put it together inside your pussy. He continues thrusting, abusing your pussy and anal, but it feels too good. He whined, whimpered and moaned too. His whiny voice making you feel so aroused.

"Y/N, ah~ Baby, I'm gonna cum", he said. It doesn't take him long to cum inside both your holes. Yet he didn't pulled them out but he continued thrusting.

"Don't wanna waste my seeds", he said as you're squirting your unholy juice to him. He wiped it off with his fingers before he brought his fingers into his mouth and hummed.

"Sweet...Beel can't even try this. You're mine" , he said.

He continued thrusting, making sure you're full of his cum. He watched how his dicks sink in and out from your pussy and anal, before he spits his saliva as lube.

"Levi levi, spit in my mouth too", you pleaded him.

"Naughty bitch, always asking for unthinkable things", he said before spitting into your mouth and watched you swallow it like a good whore.

That night, you two did it for 5 rounds. His stamina is too good.

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Fem!Reader

Part 6: Gem bracelet

A/N: Hi all! Hope you guys are enjoying the story! Make sure to comment to be added to my tag list if you want to get notified when I post. Enjoy! 💜🩵

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

5.6k words

Wade had talked to his boss about what the guy running one of the drug warehouses had said. They assured him they'd keep us in the loop with any updates, but days had passed, and we hadn't heard anything. It was frustrating, but we knew this kind of waiting game was part of the deal. So, we went on with our lives, trying not to let the uncertainty hang over us.

I was still working at the flower shop with Laura, who had been under the weather lately. Wade and Logan had been going on missions without me since I had to cover some of Laura's shifts this week. I didn't mind, though—I enjoyed the quiet of the shop and the routine of arranging flowers, even if it meant missing out on the action. Logan and I had settled into a routine of our own. We made it a habit to have dinner together every evening, a small but comforting ritual that kept us connected despite our different schedules. Logan was always gone early in the morning, and I usually didn't come home until late afternoon after my shift. But no matter how busy the day had been, we always made time for dinner.

As I chopped vegetables for tonight's meal, my mind wandered to my upcoming birthday. It felt strange to think about, like crossing some invisible line into a new chapter of my life. I wasn't sure how I felt about it—excited, nervous, maybe a bit of both. 

Logan had been acting a little different lately, too—more attentive, more present. It felt as if we were becoming friends. The thought of it made me smile as I continued preparing dinner, the scent of garlic and herbs filling the kitchen.

In a few days, I'll be thirty. It felt like a milestone, and despite everything that had happened, I was looking forward to it. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be—working a job I enjoyed, living with people I cared about, and sharing dinners with someone who had become more important to me than I ever expected.

Logan stepped out of the shower, steam trailing behind him as he walked into the hallway, a towel slung low around his waist. His hair was damp, the droplets catching the light as they clung to the ends, and his muscles rippled subtly with each movement.

 I glanced up from the stove as he entered the kitchen, offering him a small smile. "Dinner's almost ready," I said, my voice casual, but I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on him for a moment longer than usual.

Logan nodded, his expression softening as he approached the counter. "Smells good," he murmured, his deep voice carrying a note of appreciation.

I turned back to the stove, giving the pasta one last stir before switching off the burner. "I hope you're hungry," I said, reaching for a pair of plates.

"Always," Logan replied, and though his tone was light, there was something in his eyes that made my heart skip a beat. He walked back to his room and came out with a black shirt and pajama pants that I bought for him at the store when I went shopping with Vanessa. 

As I plated the food, the comfortable silence between us was almost tangible. We'd grown used to these quiet moments—the kind where no words were needed; just the simple act of being together was enough. But tonight, there was something else—a subtle undercurrent that made the air feel charged, like we were both waiting for something, though neither of us knew exactly what.

I handed Logan his plate, and our fingers brushed briefly, sending a small jolt of electricity through me. 

"Here you go," I said, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest. 

"Thanks bub," Logan said, taking the plate from me, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. His gaze met mine, and for a second, it felt like the world around us had quieted, leaving just the two of us in this small, shared space. But then the moment passed, and Logan turned to take his seat at the table, leaving me to follow. As I sat down across from him, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly was brewing beneath the surface. 

After we finished eating, Logan got up to wash the dishes, which had become part of our routine—he'd clean up whenever I cooked. I appreciated it more than he probably knew; it was one of those small gestures that made our arrangement feel less like just two people sharing a space and more like... something else. As he stood at the sink, his broad shoulders flexing slightly under his t-shirt, I decided to set up a movie for us to watch. I'd been slowly introducing Logan to pop culture, with Wade chipping in occasionally, and tonight felt like the perfect time to share one of my favorites from childhood: It, the 1990s version. It was one of those films that had both terrified and fascinated me as a kid, and I was curious to see how Logan would react to it. I popped in the DVD, the familiar logo flickering on the screen, and adjusted the pillows on the couch, making it as cozy as possible. Logan finished up in the kitchen and joined me, drying his hands on a towel before tossing it aside.

"What's this one about?" he asked, eyeing the screen as he settled in next to me, the warmth of his presence immediately noticeable.

"It's a horror film," I replied, a small smile playing on my lips. "About a creepy clown named Pennywise. It scared the hell out of me when I was younger, but it's a classic. Thought it'd be a good one to show you since you missed out on all the pop culture stuff."

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A clown, huh? Can't say I've ever found them particularly scary."

I chuckled, leaning back into the couch. "Yeah, well, let's see if this one changes your mind."

As the movie played, the familiar eerie music filling the room, I found myself occasionally glancing over at Logan to see his reaction. It was subtle, just a quick look here and there, but I was curious if he was enjoying it or if he found the whole thing ridiculous. Logan sat with his usual stoic expression, his eyes focused on the screen. He didn't flinch during the jump scares, and I couldn't quite tell if he was genuinely interested or just being polite. But every now and then, I noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth or the way his fingers drummed lightly against his leg during tense moments. It was clear he was engaged, even if he wasn't showing it in the typical way. I smiled to myself, finding a quiet comfort in the fact that we could share this moment. It wasn't just about introducing him to a part of my childhood; it was about seeing how our worlds could blend together, even in something as simple as watching a movie.

As the long three-hour movie hit the two-hour mark, the room's atmosphere had settled into a cozy lull. The tension of the film's earlier scenes had passed, leaving behind a quieter, more introspective part of the story. My eyelids began to feel heavy, the day's exhaustion finally catching up with me. Without realizing it, I leaned against Logan, my head finding a comfortable spot on his shoulder. The warmth from his body, combined with the steady rise and fall of his breathing, was soothing. It was a stark contrast to the eerie ambiance of the movie playing on the screen. My consciousness drifted, the lines between the film and reality blurring as I succumbed to sleep. 

Logan, feeling the sudden weight against his shoulder, glanced down at Violet. His expression softened as he noticed she had fallen asleep. He stayed perfectly still, not wanting to disturb her, though the unexpected closeness caught him off guard. There was something protective in the way he sat there, allowing her to rest against him, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to a rare moment of tenderness. As the movie continued to play, Logan kept his eyes on the screen, but his attention was divided. He was acutely aware of the soft rhythm of her breathing, the way her hair brushed against his arm, and the undeniable warmth of the moment that had quietly formed between them.

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A few days had passed since that movie night with Logan, and now, it was my birthday—the big thirty. I woke up late, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, promising a beautiful day ahead. There was a quiet excitement in the air, a feeling that today would be special. As I stretched and reached for my phone, I saw that it was already noon. Two notifications caught my eye, both simple but sweet reminders that people were thinking of me today. The first was from Vanessa, a bright "Happy Birthday!" with a string of emojis. The second was from Wade, in typical Wade fashion, a slightly more chaotic but equally heartfelt birthday message. I smiled to myself, feeling a warmth in my chest. Wade and Logan were out on a mission, so I had the apartment all to myself. It was unusual for me to wake up so late, but today, it felt right to indulge in a slow morning. I had the whole day ahead of me, and the possibilities felt endless. As I got out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, I couldn't help but wonder what the day would bring. There was something about birthdays that made everything seem a little brighter, a little more magical.

I put on my music and blasted it in my room while I sipped on my homemade iced coffee. The familiar beats filled the space, setting a vibrant tone for the day. As I got ready, I couldn't help but reflect on how much had changed over the past year. Life had taken unexpected turns, some challenging and others surprisingly wonderful. 

Logan's presence in my life was one of those surprises. He had entered my world in a way I hadn't anticipated, and now, looking back, I realized how much I appreciated having him around. He wasn't the type to openly admit it, but I knew we had become close. There was a comfort in our routine, in the way we shared meals and moments of quiet together. 

I decided to take my time getting dressed, choosing something that made me feel good—comfortable yet pretty. I slipped into a soft blue pastel mini dress that hugged my curves in all the right places, making me feel confident and effortlessly chic. The color complemented my skin tone, and the fit was just right, accentuating my figure without being too over the top. I let my hair fall naturally, the soft waves framing my face in a way that felt relaxed and authentic. For makeup, I kept it light and fresh, just a touch of mascara to bring out my eyes and a hint of blush to give my cheeks a natural glow. I finished it off with a swipe of lip gloss, nothing too bold, just enough to make me feel put together. It was my day, and I wanted to feel at ease—comfortable in my skin, enjoying the simple pleasures of the moment.

Vanessa had planned a girls' day out since she had the day off today, and we agreed that 2 o'clock would be the perfect time to meet up. To start my birthday right, I made myself a special breakfast—two pancakes topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. It was a tradition my grandparents had started, making this exact breakfast for me every year on my birthday. It's a tradition I will never break, no matter what.

As I sat at the kitchen table, the sweet scent of pancakes filling the room, memories of my grandparents flooded my mind. They had always made my birthdays special, and even though they were gone, their love and warmth still lingered in these small, cherished moments. Tears welled up in my eyes, the ache of missing them sharper on days like this. But I quickly took a deep breath, reminding myself that today was supposed to be a fun day, not one filled with sorrow. Wiping away the tears, I focused on the joy they would have wanted me to feel, determined to make the most of this day and honor their memory by celebrating the way they always had—with love, laughter, and a little bit of sweetness.

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It was finally 2 o'clock when I heard a knock on my door. I was in the middle of washing my dishes, so I used my powers to unlock the door, yelling, "Come in!"

Vanessa walked in with a big smile on her face, her energy contagious as she practically ran over to me, wrapping me in a tight hug.

"Happy birthday, Vi!" she exclaimed, squeezing me like she hadn't seen me in years, even though it had only been a few days.

I laughed, returning the hug just as tightly. "Thanks, Nessa. You're in a good mood!"

"Of course I am! It's your big day, and we're going to make it amazing!" she said, finally pulling back but keeping her hands on my shoulders, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've got the whole day planned, and trust me, you're going to love it."

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but smile back at her. "Alright, alright. I'm ready for whatever you've got in store."

"Good," she said, giving me one last squeeze before letting go. "Now, let's get going. The day's not going to celebrate itself!"

I grabbed my purse, and with one last glance at my cozy apartment, we headed out the door, ready to take on whatever adventures Vanessa had planned for my special day.

As we walked in the hallway, Vanessa kept the conversation lively, talking about all the fun things we were going to do. We laughed and joked as we walked, the day already feeling special with just the two of us together.

But as we were heading down the street, Vanessa suddenly stopped and snapped her fingers. 

"Oh shoot, I forgot my bag at my place. We need to swing by and grab it real quick."

I smiled, shaking my head. "No problem. You and that bag, I swear."

She laughed, looping her arm through mine as we changed direction toward her apartment. "Hey, a girl's got to be prepared, right?"

It didn't take long to reach her place, and as we approached the door, Vanessa seemed a little more excited than usual. She fumbled with her keys, her hands practically shaking with anticipation, which I found a bit odd but didn't think much of Finally, she swung the door open, and I stepped inside, expecting the usual cozy vibe of her place. But instead, I was greeted by the sight of streamers, balloons, and a huge "Happy Birthday, Violet!" banner hanging across the living room.

"Surprise!" a chorus of voices shouted, startling me as a crowd of our friends, including Wade and even Logan, who I thought was on a mission, popped out from behind furniture and decorations.

I stood there, completely stunned, my mouth hanging open in shock. "Oh my God," I whispered, taking in the scene. "You guys..."

Vanessa beamed, her eyes shining with happiness as she grabbed my hand. "Happy Birthday, Vi! We couldn't let you celebrate this big day without throwing you a party!"

Wade was the first to rush over, pulling me into a dramatic bear hug. "You're growing up so fast, sugar plum," he said in a mockingly sentimental tone, his voice dripping with exaggerated emotion. He even pretended to wipe away a tear, adding to the theatrics.

I couldn't help but laugh, playfully shoving him away. "Oh, shut up, Wade," I said, rolling my eyes but smiling at his antics. "You're impossible."

Wade grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "But you love me anyway, don't you, birthday girl?" he teased, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we both looked around at the party in full swing.

I laughed, still in disbelief. "I honestly had no idea... This is amazing!" Logan stepped forward, a small, almost shy smile on his face. "Happy Birthday, Violet," he said, his voice gruff but sincere.I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, a smile tugging at my lips as I met his gaze. "Thank you, Logan," I replied softly, appreciating the genuine sentiment behind his simple words.There was a brief moment of silence, and in that pause, I could feel the connection between us, something unspoken but understood. It was a small, quiet moment in the midst of the party, but it meant the world to me. Vanessa squeezed my hand, pulling me back into the moment. "Come on, let's get this party started! We've got food, drinks, and plenty of surprises left."

As the music kicked in and everyone started to mingle, I found myself smiling from ear to ear. This was more than I could have ever asked for—a day surrounded by the people I cared about, feeling loved and appreciated. It was the perfect start to a new chapter in my life.

After hours of drinking and laughter, I felt the fatigue creeping in, and I quietly slipped away from the crowd, finding solace on the couch. The noise from the back of the apartment seemed distant as I sank into the cushions, taking a moment to breathe.

Not long after, Logan appeared, walking over to me with his usual calm demeanor. He sat down next to me—not too close, but close enough that I could catch the faint scent of beer on his breath as he leaned in slightly.

"I didn't want to give you this in front of everyone else," he began, his voice low and a bit hesitant. "But I got this bracelet for you. I thought you might like it... I don't know, if you don't like it, it's okay."

He held out a small box, his expression a mix of uncertainty and hope. I could tell he wasn't used to giving gifts, especially something as personal as this, and it made the gesture all the more meaningful.

I took the box from him, feeling the weight of the moment as I opened it. Inside was a delicate bracelet, simple yet beautiful, with a small charm that caught the light just right. It was understated, something that could be worn every day, and I could tell he had put thought into choosing it.

"It's perfect," I said softly, my fingers brushing over the charm as I looked up at him. "Thank you, Logan. I love it."

Relief washed over his face, and he gave a small nod, his gaze softening. "I'm glad," he replied, his voice carrying that familiar gruffness, but with a warmth that made my heart flutter.

I smiled, feeling a surge of affection for this man who had become such an important part of my life. "It means a lot that you thought of me."

Logan didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. We sat there in comfortable silence for a while, the party noise fading into the background, both of us content to share this quiet, intimate moment. 

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It was around nine o'clock when the party started winding down, and people began to filter out. Vanessa, still full of energy, suggested we should all head to the club just a short walk from here to keep the celebration going. Everyone agreed enthusiastically, and the idea of dancing and letting loose sounded perfect after the night we'd had. But as I glanced down at the pastel blue dress I was wearing, I realized it wasn't exactly club material.

"I'm going to head back to my apartment to change first," I said, and Vanessa nodded with understanding.

"Good idea," she said with a grin. "You've got that black mini dress I got you for Christmas, right? It's perfect for tonight."

"Exactly what I was thinking," I replied with a smile.

We all decided to meet back at the club once I was ready. As I made my way to my apartment, I felt a wave of excitement wash over me. It had been a while since I'd had a night out like this, and I was looking forward to letting loose. Once I got home, I quickly changed into the black mini dress. It was sleek and fitted, hugging my curves in all the right places. The fabric shimmered slightly under the light, and as I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence. This was definitely more fitting for a night out. With a final touch-up to my makeup and a spritz of perfume, I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, ready to rejoin the others and make this birthday one to remember.

As I made my way back to Vanessa's apartment, i could feel the excitement bubbling up again. The night was young, and the promise of dancing and fun with my friends had my spirits lifted. When I  walked into Vanessa's place, everyone was already gathered, ready to head out.

Wade immediately greeted me with his usual flair. "Well, well, if it isn't the belle of the ball! That dress—now that's what I call club material," he said with an exaggerated wink, making everyone laugh. I smiled, giving a playful twirl. "Thanks, Wade. Nessa picked it out." 

Wade grinned, clearly pleased. "Nessa's got good taste, no doubt about that. You're gonna be the center of attention tonight, Vi!"

As the group started to chat and gather their things, Logan's gaze never left Violet. He stood a little apart from the others, his eyes following her every move. The way the dress hugged her figure, the way her hair fell just right—it all captivated him in a way he couldn't quite explain. There was something about seeing her so confident and radiant that made it impossible for him to look away. But, as usual, Violet was blissfully unaware of the attention she was receiving from Logan. She was caught up in the excitement of the evening, laughing with Vanessa and Wade, and completely oblivious to the way Logan's gaze lingered on her, filled with an intensity that only he understood. Vanessa, on the other hand, wasn't oblivious at all. She noticed the way Logan's eyes stayed fixed on Violet, the way his expression softened when he looked at her. A knowing smile tugged at Vanessa's lips as she exchanged a quick glance with Wade, who raised an eyebrow in response. There was definitely something more between those two, even if Violet didn't see it yet. With everyone ready to go, they headed out into the night, Logan walking close to Violet, as if unconsciously drawn to her. She, still completely unaware of the effect she was having on him, continued to chat with Vanessa, her laughter echoing down the hallway as they made their way to the club, ready to dance the night away.

Vanessa led the way, confidently striding up to the bouncer at the front of the long line. With a quick exchange of smiles and a nod, he unhooked the velvet rope, letting us bypass the waiting crowd. We walked in, greeted by the thumping bass of the music and the flashing lights that turned the club into a vibrant blur of color and sound. The energy inside was electric. The dance floor was packed with people moving to the beat, their bodies swaying in sync with the rhythm. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and the faint tang of alcohol. It was the perfect atmosphere for a night of celebration. Vanessa and Wade immediately headed for the bar, eager to get the night started with a round of drinks. I followed, feeling the infectious energy of the place start to seep into my veins. Logan stayed close by, his presence grounding me amidst the chaos of the club.

As we reached the bar, Vanessa turned to me with a grin. "What's your poison tonight, birthday girl?"

I laughed, feeling the excitement bubble up inside me. "Surprise me," I said, trusting her to pick something good.

Wade leaned in, his voice barely audible over the music. "Something strong for the lady—she deserves it."

Vanessa nodded at the bartender, who quickly mixed up a colorful concoction and slid it over to me. I took a sip, the sweet yet potent flavors dancing on my tongue. 

"Perfect," I said, raising my glass to them.

"To Violet's big night out!" Wade declared, lifting his drink high.

We all clinked glasses, the sound of the toast lost in the booming music but the sentiment clear. After a few more sips, Vanessa grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor, eager to get moving.

"Come on, Vi! Let's show them how it's done!" she shouted over the music, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I couldn't help but laugh as Vanessa dragged me into the sea of dancers, the music pulsing through my body. "Rock Your Body" by Justin Timberlake blasted through the speakers, the infectious rhythm driving everyone on the dance floor into a frenzy. The lights flickered and flashed, casting everything in a surreal, almost dreamlike glow. It felt like we were in another world, one where nothing mattered except the beat of the music and the joy of the moment.

As we danced, I caught a glimpse of Logan watching from the edge of the dance floor, his eyes locked on me. Even in the dim light, I could see the intensity in his gaze, a mix of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. But I was too wrapped up in the moment, too caught up in the euphoria of the night to dwell on it.

Tonight was about fun, about letting go and enjoying myself, and I was determined to make the most of it.

After dancing to five songs straight, my energy began to wane, and I decided it was time for a break. The heat from the dance floor clung to my skin, and I could feel the light sheen of sweat forming on my forehead. I made my way through the dance floor leaving Wade and Vanessa in the crowd, dodging groups of dancers and squeezing past clusters of people. Finally, I spotted Logan sitting at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he nursed a drink. I walked over to him, feeling the cool air by the bar providing a much-needed respite from the intensity of the dance floor. As I approached, Logan looked up, his eyes meeting mine. There was something in his gaze—something deeper, more intense than I was used to seeing.

"Taking a break?" he asked, his voice low, almost a rumble.

"Yeah," I replied, sliding onto the stool next to him. "Five songs in a row is my limit, I think. I needed to cool off."

He nodded, his eyes flicking over me for a moment, lingering just a bit longer than usual. "You looked like you were having fun out there."

"I was," I said with a smile. "It's been a while since I've let loose like that."

Logan took a sip of his drink, his gaze still fixed on me. There was a pause, a brief moment of silence between us that felt charged, like there was something unspoken lingering in the air.

"You want something to drink?" he finally asked, breaking the tension.

"Sure, I'll have a soda," I replied, still catching my breath.

Logan signaled the bartender, ordering my drink before turning back to me. As I waited, I couldn't help but notice how he seemed more relaxed here, away from the noise and chaos of the dance floor. But there was also that intensity in his eyes, the same one I'd seen earlier. It made me wonder what was going on behind that stoic exterior of his.

-

Logan and I had been talking for a while, the conversation flowing naturally between us despite the noise of the club. The energy in the room was electric, with the bass vibrating through the floor and the lights casting everyone in a kaleidoscope of colors. We shared a few laughs, occasionally letting the silence settle comfortably between us, a silence that felt more like understanding than anything else. But then, as if on cue, a guy appeared next to me. He slid in smoothly, cutting through the crowd with a kind of effortless confidence that immediately drew attention. He was tall, well-built, and his smile held that practiced charm that suggested he was no stranger to approaching women in places like this.

"Hey there," he said, leaning in close so I could hear him over the pounding music. His voice was smooth, almost too smooth, and it carried that easygoing assurance that made it clear he was used to getting what he wanted. "You look like you're having a good time. Mind if I join you?"

His eyes met mine, his gaze lingering just a bit too long as if to make sure he had my attention. I couldn't help but smile back, caught off guard but not entirely opposed to the idea. After all, it was my birthday, and a little harmless flirting wasn't going to hurt anyone.

"Sure," I replied, my voice light, matching his tone. "Why not?"

Logan's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly beside me, but I was too focused on the conversation with this new guy to notice. The stranger took it as a sign to move in closer, resting his arm casually on the back of my chair, his body angled toward me in a way that clearly marked his interest.

"What's your name?" he asked, his smile never wavering.

"Violet," I replied, still smiling. "And yours?"

"Mark," he said, offering his hand for a shake. His grip was firm, his touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary. "So, Violet, what brings you out here tonight? Celebrating something special?"

"Actually, yeah. It's my birthday," I said, feeling a bit of pride in the declaration.

"Birthday girl, huh?" Mark's smile widened, and he leaned in even closer. "Well, happy birthday, Violet. How about I buy you a drink to celebrate?"

I glanced at Logan, who was watching the exchange with an expression I couldn't quite read. His eyes were darker than usual, a storm brewing behind them, but he said nothing. It was as if he was trying to keep his composure, but the tension in his body was palpable.

"I'm good, thanks," I replied to Mark, still smiling but feeling a strange undercurrent of tension between Logan and me.

Mark, undeterred, simply shrugged. "Suit yourself. But let me know if you change your mind."He stayed close, continuing the small talk, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the weight of Logan's gaze on me, heavy and intense, but I brushed it off, assuming he was just being his usual stoic self.

As the conversation with Mark carried on, I noticed Logan's hand clench around his glass, his knuckles turning white. He was holding back, clearly, but from what? The realization that something deeper was going on hit me, but before I could say anything, Mark reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin.

Logan  set his drink down with a thud, the sound barely audible over the music but enough to catch my attention. "We need to talk," he said, his voice tight, almost a growl, as he stared at me with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Startled by the sudden change in his tone, I blinked at him, momentarily confused. "Now?"

"Yeah," Logan said, his eyes flicking to Mark for a brief moment before settling back on me. "Now."I hesitated, unsure of what had caused this sudden shift in his mood. But something in Logan's gaze told me this wasn't something to brush off. I turned back to Mark, giving him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I have to go."

Mark looked between us, clearly sensing the tension but not entirely understanding it. "No worries. Maybe I'll catch you later?"

I nodded, though I knew there wouldn't be a later. I turned to Logan, whose eyes hadn't left me, and allowed him to lead me away from the bar, leaving the flashing lights and pounding music behind as we found a quieter corner of the club. The entire time, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change, something that had been building for a long time.

Logan finally stopped, turning to face me, his expression a mix of frustration and something else I couldn't quite place. "What's going on?" I asked, still confused by the sudden shift in his mood.

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race. For a moment, he seemed like he was about to say something, but then, as if he couldn't find the right words, he just shook his head.

"Forget it," Logan muttered, his voice rough, like he was fighting to keep something buried deep inside. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me standing there, stunned and alone.

I watched him disappear into the crowd, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing with confusion and frustration. What had just happened? Why had he pulled me aside if he wasn't going to say anything?

The music continued to throb around me, but I felt disconnected from it, from the entire scene. Logan had left me standing there with a million questions and no answers, and all I could do was watch as he vanished into the throng of people, leaving me wondering what the Fuck had just happened.

Part 7: I feel like i'm drowning

[wayfayrr]

Sky being self aware had been plaguing my mind since I wrote this other piece where he confronts you about having played through his game, however while you could read this as a sequel it is written as something separate!

before the main thing though just gonna say, I don't actually support yandere behaviour in real life - I don't usually mention this because in my opinion it goes without saying, however since reader borders a little bit on being one in this I just wanted to make it clear!

[masterlist]

It’s been so long since I last played Skyward Sword, Really I think the last time I picked it up was at least a year ago now. I’d almost forgotten I actually had it on the switch, if it weren’t for me needing to do a clear out I might have never remembered that I had this. I’ve got some spare time right now so really there shouldn’t be an issue if I took a break to play for a while would there? In the worst case I’d get distracted for a bit, but it’s not like I can’t just carry on cleaning tomorrow. Setting up the game was easier than ever, not like setting up any switch game is particularly hard though. My old save was still waiting patiently, I could never bring myself to delete it even after getting a hundred percent. Perhaps it’s finally time to try out hero mode for the first time?

The opening cutscene is nice to watch again, even if I can’t help but feel bad for Link in it, seeing what it’s building up to. Huh? I could’ve sworn my controllers were working a second ago, they can’t have disconnected during the cutscene either, could they?

“[Name]? Dearest… you’ve finally come back…”

What.

It’s like I’ve just been plunged into ice water - I- I’m dreaming right? I have to be, there’s no way this could possibly be real. He’s a game character. Link can’t be speaking to me as if he’s a real person. He can’t be.

“Darling, You - you look so pale are you alright?”

Another step toward the screen, a head-tilt and clear concern on his face. More than possible. I knew it, this has to be a dream.

“Darling, I know that this is strange for you - don’t you think it’s strange for me as well? I mean - I know I’m not supposed to exist as I do. I’m only supposed to be a blank slate for you to play this game as not - not have my own feelings.”

A sharp inhale laced with the sounds of static reverberated throughout the room, with a far too alive sounding sniffle as he wiped his eyes and took yet another step closer. Even eerier was the laugh that followed when he made eye contact with me, something sad and wet sounding like he’s barely holding himself together. It sounds too real.

“It’s been so long I thought that you - I thought that you forgot me. That you weren’t going to come back. I hoped - no I knew - that you didn’t though and you didn’t! You came back to me my love and now I’m not going to let you out of my sight again. I know that it wasn’t your fault that you took so long, I - I mean you didn’t even know that I’m alive but I’m not going to risk it happening again.”

He’s right up against the screen now, staring at me as he presses his hand up against it, like he’s testing it. Gently testing as if he’s trying to see how much pressure the glass can take. If there’s any time best to wake up already it would be now. 

“I’ve been stuck in here alone for so long, if I didn’t have something to focus on I would have gone insane! Can you imagine that? If I didn’t have you to think about all that time I would have lost myself! I was made for you; I know you care about me as well. Please [name] I - I don’t know who I’m supposed to be any more, I’m not - not your character. I’m so much more than that empty husk.”

His hand pushes further on the glass as his fingers tense up, now like he’s preparing himself for something. Link, I’ve never seen him - any version of him in any version of the games acting even half as emotive as this. That proves that this is all a dream, he can’t be - this can’t be real. 

“There’s one other thing that being trapped in here for all this time has let me focus on I think I know how to get out now… If I press this just-”

A sickeningly twisted smile found its way onto his face with each shrill crack of the glass screen under his hand. The other moving up to join it as he pushed even harder, intending to shatter the barrier, he’s convinced himself is standing between us. My chest feels so tight right now, why am I so sore in a dream?  If I were awake I’d be convinced I was having a panic attack but - no- no I’m not awake.

“Right. Then - Well you can see can’t you dearest? If I carry on like this, there won’t be any-”

A loud wince as his hand shatters through the screen, the glass shards cutting through his skin effortlessly marring both him and the remaining screen with - with his blood. The laughter that followed the screen cutting to blank with his hand reaching through seemed to tighten the band that’s seemingly wrapped itself around my lungs making it harder still to breathe. How could I breathe when link - the link is dragging himself out of my tv. 

“Come on darling..? I know you feel the same way about me, I’ve heard you say it all. So please don’t just stand there looking terrified. You have no reason to be scared of me, I love you so much [name]. Can’t you see I’m doing this so that we can be together? I can’t wait to finally hold you in my arms.”

Frozen. That’s the only way I can describe how I’m feeling right now, my once-warm blood has turned to ice within my veins. He’s not stopping. His shirt that was once a pale beige is now stained with red patches, as his head and torso are out of the screen now. What was once a comforting face to see, one of my favourite characters is staring me down with a downright vicious grin while he is dripping with his own blood. Even beneath all of that though, there’s still something so tender, so scared about him, something is worrying him.

“Please darling you’re so pale, you don’t need to be scared - I promise you everything is going to be alright. [name] please just say something to me…”

Dark spots are starting to show in my vision now and… I’m not sure if this is a dream anymore. There are too many things adding up that don’t make any sense. But if it’s not that, I don’t…

“[NA]-”

><><><><

Did I pass out? I mean it really feels like I did, but I don’t feel like I hit anything. If I passed out when I was alone then I would’ve hit my head on something. Maybe I’m just waking up from that weird dream. Hopefully. Although that wouldn’t explain -

“You’re alright darling, I’m here. I’ve got you, you’re safe, you’re alright.”

Why I feel like someone’s holding me? 

“Oh dearest you’re finally awake… You - you scared me you know? I didn’t think I was going to be able to catch you, that you were going to get hurt. I’m so glad that I did though love.” It wasn’t a dream. That was Link’s voice, the same one as before. It’s link thats holding me in his arms. Link that’s nuzzling into my hair as he seems to be fighting off tears. That means… That means…

“...Everything was real..?  I - you - it…”

He’s holding me so gently like he’s scared of me disappearing. If what he said is true? I can’t hold  that against him with what he’s said, but even still. I can’t just stay in his arms pretending that him stroking my face with bloodstained hands isn’t bothering me. He’s so happy though and he isn’t hurting me really why don't I just - no I have to tell him that this is making me uncomfortable. 

“All of it, all of it was real [name] and I couldn’t be more glad that it is, because it means that I’m finally here with you.”

“Link…”

“Yes dear?”

… this is all real. I’m actually talking to him. He’s real. And he’s downright obsessed with me. 

“You - you’re still bleeding, you should deal with that and- and with everything.”

I’m not sure that was the right thing to say, but why shouldn’t I not accept him. This isn’t some stranger, it’s Link. One of my first fictional crushes, he’s probably heard the things I’ve said about him; since I’ve said in the past if I got a chance like this that I would take it… why not see where this goes? He looks adorable like this, hopefully, if he stays like this long enough I’ll be able to get the image of him crawling through my tv out of my mind. 

“I - you’re worried about me, love? I - I knew that you’re my soulmate, oh my dear. You're so beyond perfect.”

“We should go get you some bandages Link. I know you’re not quite used to everything yet so I wouldn’t want you to get an infection immediately.”

Yeah, I’m not going to let this chance slip. He’s so much nicer in person, why should I throw this away? He’s perfect and now?

He’s mine.

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.1. EVERYTHING AT ONCE

“she starts her day with music. she always does. when she wakes up, on the way to work, even while she’s at work, she plays songs in her waiting room. she can’t hear them, but her clients waiting outside can, and she hopes they enjoy them. she’s always trying out new playlists, looking for new songs, trying to expand her music taste. it’s not like any of them really mention it or talk to her. they probably barely pay attention to the lyrics or know what the songs are about, so it’s like an inside joke with just herself. after her last client leaves, she sits in her own waiting room for a little bit, waiting for the current song to finish before she shuts off her speaker. she doesn’t need to put this much effort into something simple. no one cares, but she hopes maybe someday someone will notice them and ask her for a song that played, or about the playlist she’s using. she'd be grateful for anything.”

sometimes he wakes up in cold sweat still thinking about it. 

the day will haunt him forever. every time he’s on the court and his arms stretch behind him as he prepares to jump. it is behind every spike, every sharp prick of frustration he gets in his neck every time he starts to get stressed; it is always there.

he knows stress is normal. it’s a part of everyday life and every single game he plays. the stress of winning, of trying to outmaneuver his opponents, get past their blocks, and read their minds as well of the minds of his own teammates as he tries to work fluidly with them.

but now there is a chill that runs down his spine every time he feels himself getting a little too frustrated, or feels the suffocating feeling of being shut down again and again, and his heart rate quickens at the thought of the numerous effects his failures are having. and then there is the single thought that runs through his mind, as he can’t help but steal a glance at his coach, sitting on a metal bench nearby. a silent plea, in response to whayever the man is thinking, watching his performance, ‘please don’t bench me again.’

he never wants to be on that bench again. never wants to feel the cool metal against the back of his legs contradict the red-hot anger flooding the rest of his body. never wants to feel the relief in his legs when he finally sits down again; because he would rather stay on the court and destroy his body, running, diving, jumping, doing anything until he is physically unable to move another inch again. he had always been one to prioritize care for himself over anything else, but not since that day.

the one day that has haunted him ever since–the day they stopped him before he was ready to be done.

the day they took him out of the game. when he heard that whistle, and looked to see who was being switched out, everything stopped when he saw his own number staring back at him: 15. everyone on his side of the court froze, watching him walk to take the sign. he doesn’t even remember who switched with him; the moment he stepped off the court his vision was spotty, and the only thing he could hear or feel was the blood pounding in his ears.

he was numb all over otherwise. he didn’t process his own feet moving, dragging himself to sit next to his coach, who had pointed at the spot next to him on that silver bench.

“you need to calm down, kiyoomi,” he barely registered the man’s voice, or his own name. it sounded grating against his ears, and his vision was still focused on the ground beneath him, a single thought going through his mind, ‘i need to get back on the court. now. now. now–’

“kiyoomi.” 

he looks up this time, to his coach, but his hands are balled into fists, nails digging into his own skin. he’s not even sure what he’s feeling. if it’s blinding anger, disappointment in himself, both, or everything at once. if he’s angry, he doesn’t know at who. at his coach, for taking him out, at himself, for getting himself here, or his teammates; he’s not one to blame others, but he can’t help but feel they’re all out of alignment today. or maybe it’s just him that’s not fitting in today.

“kiyoomi listen to me. you’re getting too much in your head. you’re making irrational decisions that are costing the team points. you're not telling anyone what you're doing or planning and it's making everyone else uptight because they can see how angry you are. you need to calm down,” his coach is talking again, and his throat closes up.

his knee is bouncing, and he’s restless, looking at the game go on right in front of him and yet he’s not there. he’s not on the court. he's on the sidelines, like a weak, useless bystander. “i understand,” he forces himself to say. “i can calm down. i’ve calmed down. i see that i was affecting my teammates. i will communicate with them and think more about my decisions. will you put me back in the game?”

it’s his coach’s turn to not respond, and kiyoomi feels like his own life is being taken from him right in front of his eyes and he can’t even do anything about it. he forces himself to breathe normally and clear his mind without losing his focus on the game. he relaxes his shoulders as best as he can and he ignores the choking feeling in his chest. he's hidden all signs of his anger, but it’s still stuck in him–he can feel it–but that doesn't matter, as long as he gets back on the court. he tries his best to appear calm and relaxed, hoping his coach will see and let him return to the game.

but he doesn’t.

sakusa kiyoomi sits on that bench for the rest of the game.

not allowed to go back.

.

.

.

ever since then, he’s learned to catch himself before he gets too angry. he’s learned to hold in all of his pent-up feelings. he keeps them buried deep down inside of him where no one will ever see them and maintains a calm face. he knows not to let it show until the game has been finished, and he has bowed to the stands and retreated back to the locker rooms.

he’s always the first one in there, trying to grab his things as quickly as possible and be the first one out, too, while the rest of his teammates are still out on the court cheering. he hears their voices the entire time until they near the locker room and hush, knowing he’s in there. he slams his locker door closed in a futile attempt to relieve some of his anger, leaving before anyone can talk to him, and so that they can talk to each other without feeling like they’re walking on eggshells around him.

he doesn’t want to be treated like glass–as if he can’t handle being around them–but he knows they’re better off without him, anyway.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

I FORGOT TO MENTION IN THE PROLOGUE that the way i'm doing song reccs this smau around is very much inspired by the way they are done in static by @eggyrocks !!! you should definitely check out their works <3

i included the tiniest "previous texts" in the peas in a pod gc mainly just to show that omi and the whole group is still silly :) he's just going thru it (there used to be another snippet of previous texts between atsumu and omi but i removed it)

atsumu is definitely playing cupid and is purposely witholding names so that neither omi or y/n know they're going to see each other

it's like a blind date except for it's therapy

yay!!!

AND ATSUMU HAS A LOT TO SAY AND THAT'S OKAY LET HIM BE

y/n is very prone to texting in a very "professional, therapist" voice but then will switch up on accident. she does it to everyone all the time and sometimes it is a little unnerving bc out of nowhere all of a sudden she'll start ending her texts with periods and you think you've done something wrong

apologies for any pacing issues!! i've changed things like 15 times and i'm tired now

taglist: @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @hyenagoated @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars  @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[firstfirerebel]

𝑆𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟

Sumary: Lloyd is having a sleepover at the monastery of his father. Reader is close to Lloyd but struggles with the other ninjas

Pairing: Garmadon x reader (platonic), Lloyd x reader (mentioned crush)

Warnings: feeling outcasted, mention of past toxic friends, social problems, fluff

Readers gender/pronouns aren't stated, so read it as you ❤️

Standing in front of the monastery was harder than you first assumed. You weren't too keen on a sleepover with the ninjas. To everyone else, this would sound mad. A sleepover with THE ninjas! Others would kill to have that! It's just that you're not good in groups. You just always ended up being the outcast.

The poor friend that just swang along. Meanwhile, all the others were bffs.

Besides, you didn't even know the other ninjas. You were only close to Lloyd, and he wanted you to be there. After some of his puppy eyes, you accepted.

You were at the monastery before. You even knew Lloyds Father, but that didn't linger your fear. Maybe you could just turn around and go -

"Hey, (Y/n)! I'm glad you could make it!"Lloyd yelled of his window from his room and waved at you.

Great, no turning back now...

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

In Lloyds room, you unpacked your bag. The others were already there. Kai had his stuff in front of Lloyds bed. Zane was next to Lloyds bed. Jay and Cole slept across, but still near, of Kai. And Nya was next Zane.

You put your stuff in the left corner, near Lloyds bed. You unpacked your pillow and blanket on the small mattress that was prepared for you. The last detail was your favorite stuffed animal, Lloyd gifted it to you when you two were at a funfair together. (Imagine it as what you want, I personally imagined an Eeyore type of stuffed animal)

Your bag with your other stuff was at the end of your sleep area.

"Okay, then let's get downstairs!"Jay screeched like a little kid.

"F-For what?" You asked quietly, but they either didn't hear or ignored you.

As the others ran downstairs, Lloyd turned around. He noticed that you weren't coming along.

"Are you coming (Y/n)? We want to play some video games, " the blonde explained.

Forcing a smile upon your lips worked as you followed him quietly.

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

"Okay, guys. What shall we play?" Cole asked into the group.

"How abo-"

"Our Ninja Video Game!" Kai suggested, not noticing that he had interrupted you.

Since only four could play, the plan was to switch the consoles from time to time.

Lloyd, Kai, Jay and Zane were playing meanwhile Cole and Nya watched them.

You sat on the ground a little away from the others. You didn't get this game. But they seemed to love it. Maybe you could change the game later to something you actually liked to play.

"Oh no!" Kai whined as he got shot by the enemy.

"Yes! My turn!" Nya took the controller of her brother and started to play.

Jay got shot next so Cole got to play. As Zane was game over, you stood up to get the controller, but Jay was in your place faster.

"Ehm, isn't it my turn?" You asked, but they played that stupid game so loud they couldn't even hear you. No, all eyes were on the screen.

'Nothing will change. I'm just not cut out to be with others. I should just accept that.' With this thought, you silently left the living room and went to Lloyds room.

You saw how all the other sleeping areas were connected, except yours. It was away from the others. And that's how it was in real life. You didn't belong to them, they were a team and you? You were just someone who was friends with one of them.

As fast as you could, you packed your stuff back into your bag. Expect your stuffed animal. You needed to hug it now.

"(Y/n)? Shouldn't you be down with the others?" When you turned around, you saw Lloyds Father, Sensei Garmadon.

You kept quiet, hoping he'd go and mind his own business.

"You don't look good. Wanna have a tea?",

You didn't want to decline his nice offer, but on the other hand you wanted to get home as fast as possible.

"Come with me, you can tell me what's bothering you", with that he left Lloyds room and obviously intended you to follow him. You let out a sigh and took your plushie with you.

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

"So, what is it?"

"I don't know what you mean, Sensei. I'm fine", Carefully you took a small sip of your cup to see that it still was too hot to drink. Your stuffed animal was on your lap, so Garmadon didn't see it.

"If anything is fine, then why aren't you with the others?" A worried look was on his face.

"Ehm, I just don't like the game, so..." You felt how you slowly crumpled down. You already could feel the hot tears in your eyes. And Garmadon obviously knew that it was a lie.

"You know that you make my son verry happy, right? He loves to spend his afternoons with you, and when he's home, he never stops talking about you. I think you are what makes him feel normal sometimes. Lloyd would never do something to hurt you, so if this sleepover is a problem for you, I guarantee that he doesn't know it, "

"T-that's not it, Sensei. I also really like Lloyd, but bonding with others is really hard for me. I just can't do anything right! If I say my opinion, I'm rude. If I keep quiet, I'm too shy. And it goes on and on. I'm just tired of trying to win a war, I know I'll never win, " It felt good to finally say this out loud. You always had to keep it to yourself, so you wouldn't annoy somebody.

"And I don't even know the others. Lloyd is the one who made me come here in the first place. And now .... I don't know, I just want to go home, "

The elder let out a sigh and took a sip of his teacup before his attention was back on you.

"I won't force you to stay here just because you make my son happy. Making sure that you feel good is more important. If you aren't okay, you can't help anyone else. Alas, nothing will change if you keep hiding your emotions. Bottling up the bad feelings and forcing up a smile just for others will only make you sick. Both physical and emotional, "

As you slowly took a sip of the tea, you tasted a little bit of cherry and cinnamon and some herbals as well. It made you feel warm from the inside, or maybe his words caused this feeling?

"But won't that be intrusive?" You almost whispered. All your past friends said that you were a bad friend cause you wanted to get some advice, help or maybe just talk about it. On the other hand, they never bothered to tell you about their hard life and their problems...

"A true and loyal friend would never call you that. You have a special place in their heart, and friends always have their backs and can trust and rely on each other, "

So Lloyd was a true friend. He never expected you to play a role and just wanted you to be you. Sometimes, he was your reason to smile, and so were you his.

"Thanks, Sensei. This talk helped me a lot. It might take some time for me to make friends with others, but now I know what my worth is, " With that, you drank the rest of your tea, and at the same time, Lloyd came inside the room.

"I've been looking for you, (Y/n)! I'm sorry that we ignored you! It really wasn't our intention! It's just that - "

"It's okay, Lloyd. So! Wanna explain this nonsense making game to me?" You asked as you stood up and held your stuffed animal in your right hand.

"Sure!" With that, he took your left wrist and ran downstairs with you.

Garmadon just smiled at the two of you and drank another cup of his tea.

[bad-decisionsot7]

Their reaction to you being demanding.

SEOKJIN

Jin would be on the couch, reading some book when you'd come in, hands behind your back. you two had gotten into a fight last week and you'd had enough of his childish, petty nature. "jin. bedroom now." he gave you a look but quickly stood up, making his way into the bedroom. "if you're going to continue on with that childish attitude it's going to be even worse." you warned him, his cheeks reddening at your words. you intended on teasing him until he was practically begging for you. jin was already hard, obeying you by stripping and laying on the bed. he knew he was in for it.

NAMJOON

Joonie would be cooking when you'd come behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist, your fingers trailed across his naked abdomen, goosebumps covering his tanned skin. "baby what you'd shush him by kissing his shoulder blades, a soft whimper escaping his lips. "meet me in the shower in ten minutes. no sooner. no later." you'd whisper, earning an eager nod from him. he was already picturing everything the two of you would do. something about shower sex with you being in a demanding attitude was what he dreamt of.

HOSEOK

Hoseok and you would be hosting a housewarming party, all of your friends and family present for the event, something about him in that damn silver suit he had been wearing was making you panties wet, the feeling making you uncomfortable. you'd get your way, you always did. hoseok would be shocked when you'd press your body up against his, leaning up to his ear only to whisper seductively, "I'm soaking wet baby." he gulped, looking down into your eyes only to see no joke, of course, he'd fulfill your needs in the upstairs bathroom while everyone wondered where the two home owners skipped off to.

JIMIN

Jimin and you were both switches but today you were feeling particularly dominant, especially seeing him look so damned cute in his grey sweats, you wanted to leave dark hickeys all over his flawless torso, so that's exactly what you did. jimin would be a moaning mess, your teeth marks practically engraved into his collarbones. he knew you could be rough but today it was over the top and he loved it. "what do you want baby boy?" you'd tease him while grasping his bulge. "y-you, please. you." what your babyboy wanted, he always got.

YOONGI

Yoongi and you would be snowed in, the weather driving the both of you mad. yoongi wanted to go to a party tonight but now he was bummed, you wanted to cheer him up but couldn't think of anything, until. you'd looked at him, slyly climbing onto his lap. he'd give you a look of confusion but it'd go away as soon as you'd grind down onto him. "I have an idea but you have to be willing to try it out, are you down?" already interested with the way things were currently going, he'd nod, consenting to whatever you wanted to do, boy was he in for quite an enjoyable ride.

TAEHYUNG

Tae would wake up to you kissing down his throat, your right hand lightly palming his head of hair. he loved waking up to you but now this was entirely different and my oh my was he excited. "baby-" he'd raspily whisper, your pussy throbbing at just his tone. "ssssh, let me take care of you for once. lay back little boy," you never called him that. he knew he was in for a surprise, you could be demanding but never like this, your tone so sassy, whatever you had in mind, he was prepared for.

JUNGKOOK

Jungkook would be playing his video games, practically ignoring you all day. "aw no!" he'd yell into his headset as you watched one of his teammates die. you were annoyed. he'd pay for this. you stripped, your clothes coming off, hair let down. you intended on showing him who's boss and not in a nice way. you walked behind him slowly before slipping in front of him, your naked body exposed. he'd be shocked, a sly smirk on your face. you'd crawl onto his lap, his cheeks turning a crimson color. "don't make this harder than it has to be baby. be quiet while i do my thing. make any noise and you'll regret it." you'd whisper into his ear, nipping it afterwards. you'd make him pay more attention to you, driving him insane as he tried not to make any noise into the headset where all of his friends could hear him.

[hyunnieshannie]

SKZ: In Bed

A shit show of a conversation was started in my writers club discord (Feel free to join!) with @maeleelee & @d4vekat-otp so here are my unhinged thoughts about how SKZ are in bed:

CHAN: SUB / SWITCH (SUB LEANING)

-He has so much control right now, even if it may not seem like it sometimes he just needs someone else to take control.

-Needs to be loved on and pampered, he's tired of taking care of his 7 kids all day

-Would love just being told what to do

-Seriously just tell him what to do, let him turn his brain off for once.

-SO SO SO in love with a calm, sweet, after care ritual:

- cuddling,

- kisses,

-a bath,

-snackies,

-hot chocolate,

- just be gentle with him after <3

MINHO: SOFT DOM

-Everyone imagines Lino as a hard dom. me included. based on his looks and demeanor but what if we based it off how he looks at Jisung?

-Suddenly the man is softer than SoonDoonDori

-Consent is sexy KING: asks if you're okay with everything he does

-SO SO SO passionate

-Gentle unless asked not to be

-Will bring the cats in after sex to let you cuddle up to them because he loves seeing his four babies all together.

-"want me to make you a snack?"

-SO MANY KISSES

-TIGHT cuddles, man will literally NOT let you go

-Would check in to make sure you're not hurt anywhere if he got 'too rough'

-Gives you his hoodie and sweats to sleep in

-HELPS YOU change into everything because "I'm changing the saying from No one helps you once you're fucked." (he's a lil dumb sometimes, he's doing his best okay?)

CHANGBIN: SWITCH (Depending on the day)

-Loves a good rough fuck

-but GOD WOULD HE LOVE being taken care of.

-Either manhandles you with his thicc muscles

- or pouts for you to be gentle with him

-IMMACULATE aftercare (HAVE YOU SEEN HOW SWEET HE IS WITH HIS MOM AND SISTER? HE WAS RAISED RIGHT AND KNOWS HOW TO TREAT A WOMAN)

-Massages!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Bubble Baths <3

-Would CARRY you to the bath <3 (Even if you can still walk. he WILL carry you)

-HE PREPARES!!! Whether he assumes he's gonna get some, or not, hes ALWAYS prepared for what you'll need after just in case! (Like water and snacks, or advil) (he do get a little sleepy after sex please cuddle him)

-PRAISES THE FUCK OUT OF HIS PARTNER 100% SO SO SWEET. "You're doing so good," "You take me so well" JKBDSFJKBVSFKJBGSKJDFVBG

HYUNJIN: SERVICE TOP / SOFT DOM

-Soft boy, Shy when people compliment his looks BUT

-Behind closed doors, he KNOWS. He KNOWS hes hot. and uses it against you

-He's a slut (lovingly)

-LOVES roleplay LOVES being a character so he can forget he was shy earlier about receiving a compliment

-PRAISES YOU "you're so perfect." | "More beautiful than any art piece in any museum" | "Made just for me,"

-SENSUAL ASF

-He wants to be in control, but doesn't want to hurt you ever, only wants to make you feel good

-Will sketch you naked while you look fucked out (paint me like one of your french girls)

-The Most EXTREME Aftercare (it's such a long process)

-Will not let you lift a single finger, while he massages you, helps you bathe, puts lotion on you, gives you a face mask, changes you, and ultimately puts you to bed

-KISSES ALL OVER YOUR FACE before you fall asleep <3

JISUNG: SOFT DOM

-STOP DOING HANJI WRONG AND CALLING HIM BITCHLESS, WHO ARE WE KIDDING? HES NOT BITCHLESS AND WE ALL KNOW IT

-BIAS WRECKS EVERYONE EVERY SINGLE CB? EVEN IF JISUNG ISN'T YOUR BIAS... HE'S STILL YOUR BIAS.

-JISUNG MAY BE SHY BUT HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING.

-LOVES EDGING. (Ignores us on bubble forever, knows we want him, knows EXACTLY when to drop content, and leave us begging him for more)

-HEAD GAME STRONG. PROVE ME WRONG RN.

-LOVES watching you beg for him. "I don't think you deserve it though-"

-WHORE (lovingly)

-WOULD SEXT YOU WHILE EITHER ONE OF YOU IS IN AN IMPORTANT MEETING "How bad do you want me right now?"

-AFTER CARE INCLUDES CUDDLES AND ANIME

-LIKE SO MUCH ANIME (FOKN WEEB)

-Showers TOGETHER. you're not allowed to go in there alone wtf??

FELIX: HARD DOM. / BRAT TAMER

-WHY EVERYONE THINK HES A SUB??

-HATES being seen as a pretty, fragile, princess

-NEEDS to take out his frustrations but what BETTER way than to show his partner whos in charge (Spoiler: It's Him.)

-The type to fuck you against the wall

-Seriously. He wants to pick you up and fuck you against any flat surface he can find- especially- when you piss him off.

-Leaves SO MANY marks on you. "Everyone needs to know who you belong to."

-LOVES face fucking. L O V E S it

-PRAISES YOU (if you deserve it) "Just like that, you're doing so good"

-IF YOU DONT DESERVE IT THO: "Stupid little whore, forgot whos in charge again huh?" (NOT HAPPY. STILL SO HOT OF HIM THO)

-SWEET BABY DURING AFTERCARE, WHOLE 180 CHANGE, "Baby what do you need?" "are you ok my love?" "Thank you for letting me get my anger out..." SO SO SO SO SO SOFT

SEUNGMIN: HARD DOM. FULL ON SADIST.

-Man isn't just a dom. He's a mother fucking SADIST

-Teases you until you cry

-LOVES making you angry/frustrated

-LOVES watching you fight back (like the brat you are)

-LOVES it more to see you lose the fight (Source: Trust me bro)

-TOYS TOYS TOYS.

-LOVES Using toys to overstimulate you.

-THE TYPE TO DO GUIDED MASTRUBATION

-LOVES the power he has over you!!!!!!!!!

-DENIAL. DENIAL. DENIAL. THIS IS BEYOND EDGING. ONE WRONG MOVE AND HE WILL DENY YOU AT LEAST 7 TIMES.

-JEALOUS FUCKING. "so you wanna act up in front of other guys? REMEMBER who fucking OWNS you."

-AFTERCARE IS SO NICE WITH HIM THO. HES A TOTAL PUPPY. Following you around to make sure you're okay, like a dog with its tail between its legs he needs lots of attention, cuddles and kisses. He loves you SO Much, he can't help his jealousy issues...

JEONGIN: HARD DOM

-DOESNT want to be Baby bread. HES SAID IT. (he wants to be Daddy Toast fr)

-Hes SO innocent looking? RED FLAG. HES 100% A WHORE (Lovingly)

-LOVES using his hands and his tongue

-Will over stimulate you with them before he even THINKS of fucking you

-When he DOES fuck you, the grip he has on your body will leave bruises on you for a week

-WOULD MARK YOU SO MUCH

-Wants YOU to mark him in forms of hickeys or scratches

-CHOKING - HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HANDS???????????? (Chanting: BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY, BREATH PLAY yeah. Im part of the breath play cult...)

-ALL THE KINKS, HES A FUCKING F R E A K "You see me as a baby? I'm about to prove you wrong little fox."

-WANTS YOU TO WEAR A FUCKING COLLAR WITH HIS NAME ON THE TAG. "You're mine. don't fucking forget it."

-SUCH A BABY DURING AFTERCARE. WANTS CUDDLES, WOULD NUZZLE INTO YOU, BABY FOX IS VERY SHY AFTER LETTING OUT HIS DOM SIDE ON YOU.

Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup

[jenplayssims]

Sims 4 “Oregon Trail” Challenge (BACC)

Inspired by playing Oregon Trail on the Switch recently with my family as well as the Homestead Challenge for Sims 2 by child_of_air, I wanted to create a historical build a community challenge (BACC) with references to the Oregon Trail game (ie, river crossings, death by illness, new pioneers arriving by wagon train, etc). The below are guidelines for play, many adapted from the Sims 2 challenge for use in Sims 4. Please consider these guidelines flexible and tweak them as you wish to fit your gameplay. This challenge was written with all packs in mind but can be played without them.

HUGE thanks to @antiquatedplumbobs for providing me valuable feedback and helping my idea really come to life! Also thanks to @cowplant-snacks​ for being a sounding board and providing feedback. This challenge wouldn’t be the same without either of their input and I am so grateful!

The Basic Rules 

1. There is no electricity, no running water, and no access to technology that wasn’t invented prior to the 1850s. You may wish to utilize the lot trait “off the grid” to aid with this, but this is not essential. As long as the home, decor, and most behaviors of the sims matches the time period, how restrictive you choose to be in your gameplay is up to you. “Close enough” is ok for this challenge.

2. Each member of your wagon party has a backstory to their lives, and many of them are trying to escape from the confines of the restrictive social order or begin a new life. However, the items they take with them will be restricted to what their social rank was when they left. Space on the wagon is limited, and only the most precious items would be taken along. (More on items below)

3. At the start you will play your aspiring pioneer household as they journey by wagon to their destination, facing obstacles along the way. Once your pioneers arrive at their destination, they will all move into a boarding house with a host sim. Only the host household (which includes your first set of pioneers) will be played at this point. Once sims move out and begin their own homesteads, the neighborhood will be played in rotation. Each house will be played for 1 week (length of rotation of your choosing. 1 week is my recommendation).

4. Only the host or hostess at your destination will be able to have a job at first, which will be in politics. Everyone else will have to focus on developing their skills, adding to their hope chests, and preparing for their own homesteads. Sims cannot marry or move out of the boarding house until they have produced enough goods to begin their own homesteads.

5. Please note that your end destination does not have to resemble Oregon. The Oregon Trail game was simply an inspiration for this challenge.

Time 

The concept of time passing is up to you. You may want to let the seasons dictate the years, or you may want to base your year around a biological marker, such as the sim age spans. Some may want to make their own metric for years (ie, 4 days = 1 year). You may choose to not bother with the passage of time at all. If you choose to advance the passage of time, you will need to keep track of advancing technology (I recommend Decades Challenge for inspiration). This challenge could be played as a prequel to the Decades Challenge.

Getting Started

1. Create your wagon train lot for your pioneers to live on as they travel to their new home. You can build this yourself or pull a lot from the gallery (my recommendation is Oregon Trail Camp by HistoricalSim). If building your own, this functional tent looks like a covered wagon - http://simfileshare.net/folder/183978/ kindly hosted by @cowplant-snacks, amazingly made functional by @superflare, original by inabadromance.

2. Host Sims and House - Before the pioneers’ journey is complete, you will need to create a host house and a host/hostess sim. (Note: This step can be done right at the start or can wait till their journey is almost over.) Create a host sim of your choosing. This will be the only sim in the initial household able to hold a job, which should be in politics. The host will be the one to hand out homestead deeds (though not literally). The wagon load of pioneers will begin their new life here as they gather supplies and build up their skills to qualify for a homestead of their own. Consider it a boarding house of sorts and build accordingly. You’ll want space for many sims as well as skilling/crafting items available for use. 

3. Townies - Your game should have as few townies as possible to begin with as your first pioneers should be part of the town’s founding. You may use mods to prevent the game from spawning townies or you may create your own and use mods to make them fill the roles the game would normally spawn new sims for (mailperson, bartender, etc). You can also allow the game to spawn as it needs to and either ignore those sims or make them over to fit the historical context. (Note: The Sims 2 Homestead Challenge mentions creating Native people to serve as existing townies. This is up to the player)

4. Create your first wagon of settlers

a. Roll a dice to see how many are on the wagon (1-7, unless you use mods to increase the household sim limit). They can be teens-adults. If you want to roll for gender, age, traits, etc you may. You can start with a married couple or single sim if you wish, but keep in mind that not all sims are guaranteed to survive the journey so more sims may be better for this challenge.

b. For each sim, roll their socioeconomic background: This determines the quality and quantity of items each sim may have brought with them to begin their new life/homestead. Note: Sims 4 furniture is stored in the shared household inventory, so may want to roll and make note of this somewhere but not actually choose the items until the sim has moved to their own homestead. 

1-2: Indentured Servant or Former Slave (2 Items, poor quality) 

3-4: Lower Class (5 Items, poor quality)  

5: Lower Middle Class (6 Items of poor quality and 3 items of medium quality)  

6: Middle Class (10 items medium quality)

c. Likewise with animals - it stands to reason that some would have brought livestock or perhaps a pet with them, but as these won’t really come into play until the sim moves to their own land, you can decide what they have now and then add them later.

5. Move them into your wagon train lot and begin their journey!

Optional: You can use my save file as a starting point for this challenge. It contains a wagon camp (Oregon Trail Camp by HistoricalSim) placed in Willow Creek. It also has the calendar already set up to include events on the journey and holidays (more on the journey and calendar below). Host house and sims are not included. http://www.simfileshare.net/download/4024989/

The Journey:

Your wagon of pioneer sims will begin their journey in spring. Their goal is to reach their end destination before winter begins. The length of this stage is up to the player - you may want to drag out the survival struggle or you may want to zip through it quickly. The average time of travel was 150 days. I’ve included a sample calendar below from my save file. The Oregon Trail begins in Missouri and ends in Oregon, and typically took months to complete with many hardships along the way. Any sim who becomes sick while on the journey will need to have a dice rolled for their survival odds (even - they live, odd - they succumb to their illness and die along the trail unless they are within a day of a Fort where they can purchase medicine). Also along the way are 4 river crossings (Kansas, Big Blue, Green, Snake) as well as passage through the Blue Mountains near the end. There are also 4 random events in the spirit of the original Oregon Trail game. For each of the 5 major events (spaced however the player chooses), roll a dice for their odds of success. 

1-3 unsuccessful attempt at crossing - roll to see which sim doesn’t make it

4-6 successful crossing - continue on

For the 4 random events on the calendar, roll a dice to determine which sim will be affected by the event. Roll the dice again for survival odds - if a 3 is rolled, your sim dies. 

Once the events are completed, the wagon arrives at the boarding house and moves in temporarily until their own homestead can be secured.

The sample calendar below from my save file includes all 5 events spaced out as well as a couple of stops at Forts where supplies can be purchased (medicine, food if you’re playing using the Simple Living lot challenge). I also included 4 random events and a few holiday celebrations.

Optional: If you’d like to further simulate pioneers journeying across the country, you can move your pioneer sim household to wagon camps in different worlds with each river/mountain crossing. If you’re using my save file, use the numbered wagon train lots as listed below.

Recommended worlds to use:

Kansas/Big Blue River Crossings - #1 stay on original lot in Willow Creek

Green River Crossing - #2 Henford

Snake River Crossing - #3 Oasis Springs

Blue Mountains Crossing - #4 Copperdale

Homesteads:

In order to qualify for a homestead, sims must gain 4 skill points in 3 different skills (Baking, Cooking, Cross Stitch, Fishing, Fitness, Flower Arranging, Gardening, Gourmet Cooking, Guitar, Handiness, Herbalism, Horse Riding, Juice Fizzing, Knitting, Nectar Making, Painting, Piano, Pipe Organ, Violin, Writing) as well as meet the qualifications for homesteads below:

Basic Homestead: all skills obtained, $100 starting fund, 10 household wares

2 Bedroom Homestead: all skills obtained, $200 starting fund, 12 household wares

3 Bedroom Homestead: all skills obtained, $300 starting fund, 20 household wares

Middle Class Homestead: all skills obtained, $400 starting fund, 30 household wares

If sims decide to marry, they must each obtain the skills individually but can pool household wares and money to qualify for a homestead. 

Since work is not allowed for the pioneers until they move out, they will need to grow and sell produce or create and sell crafted items to earn money. Items can be sold through their inventory for ease if desired. If using Chestnut Ridge as their town, items can also be sold at the General Store.

Household wares include what they rolled from earlier based on their socioeconomic backgrounds as well as anything they create while in the host house.

Note: if you choose to play with the Simple Living lot challenge turned on, you will also want your sims to bring some produce, canned goods, and possibly seeds with them to their homestead.

Once in their own homesteads, they can expand as they have funds and need or can move to a new lot.

Optional: When two homesteads have been established, you can build a Trading Post. This is where your sims can sell their wares through the sales tables available in Sims 4. A grocery stall from Cottage Living may also be placed. They can also sell items at the General Store in Chestnut Ridge.

If you prefer a lot from the Gallery, I highly recommend Old Western Township built by antiqueplumbobs (antiquated plumbobs : Western Township - Simblreen Gift #1 A CC-Free... (tumblr.com) It is perfect as a community lot for this challenge.

When all pioneer sims from the initial wagon have moved into their own homesteads, a second wagon of pioneers can be created and start their journey. As your initial sims have families of their own, you may choose to create families to journey to your town rather than individual sims. The second (and any future) wagon train households created will be played in rotation with the homestead households established by your original pioneers.

Careers:

Once on their own established homesteads, your sims can begin careers. 

At home careers: farmer, orchard owner, florist, woodworker, dairy farm, llama farm, chicken farm, horse breeder, goat herder, sheep farmer, nectar maker, juice fizzer, herbalist

Careers in game: fisherman, manual laborer, gardener, painter, politician, writer, lawyer, doctor, teacher, criminal, entertainer (Note: I would suggest creating a specific sim to be the doctor to unlock medicine, creating a teacher to be part of a wagon train once your town begins to have infants/toddlers, etc - add the careers as it makes sense for your town, as most making this journey initially would have been farmers).

Optional careers:

Create a clergyman to perform marriage ceremonies among the settlers. Can add a fee to their household funds for each marriage performed, etc.

Add in custom careers, such as Fur Trader ( Peebs : Fur Trade Career | Original Career This career... (tumblr.com) )

That’s it! See how far your town can grow and advance as new settlers arrive but most importantly, have fun!

PDF link to rules

[captainlunaxmen]

All for the Cameras

Chapter 5

Finnick Odair x reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: we'll find a bit more about the reader's past.

Chapter warnings: murder, threat, well.. it's the Hunger Games.

⚠️ ⚠️ ⚠️

I'll tag you all on this chapter again to let you all know.ow that this is the blog I'll post the next chapters from now on... since the other one is inoperable. ❤️❤️❤️

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess

I'm sorry if it doesn't let me tag everyone 😔

Masterlist

"Hi, my love."

"Finnick." I shortly reply, using all my strength not to look at him.

There's a short pause before he speaks up.

"What did he want?" He asks.

"To remind me that after we're married I'll be... his." I sigh.

"He wishes." He lets out a soft laugh and I follow, "you look good in that." He then says, nodding to my outfit.

"I'll let you borrow it sometimes." I joke and he chuckles.

"Switching clothes... I like it. I'm sure you'd look a lot better with this on than me." He points at the fish net tied around him.

"Well, the Capitol seemed to appreciate you in it."

"I thought I've been clear earlier," he starts to get closer, "your eyes are the only ones I care about," he lifts my chin up to look at him, "and your lips are the only thing I can think of."

"Finnick..." I weakly warn and he pulls away, going to lean against the opposite wall.

"I could be dead in a week..." he starts.

"Don't say that..."

"I could be dead in a week," he ignores me, "and all I can think about is you. Being with you. All the things I would love to do to you right here, right now... well... actually all night and everywhere, "he laughs embarrassed, I don't think I've ever seen him embarrassed like this before, "I would love to scream to the world how much..."

"Stop it." I basically order him.

"I could be dead in a week." He bitterly laugh, "and I can't even get a kiss."

"Finnick..."

"I'm not blaming you, I want you to know that. If I were to kiss you right now, I don't think I would be able to stop and... they would probably catch us and... they could hurt you. Because I could be dead in a week, but you might have a chance anyway."

I just hug him. Tightly, like if I were to let go he would disappear forever. When I feel his arms around me, I sigh, feeling safe. He kisses the top of my head, holding me just as tight.

I pull away just enough to look at him.

"Don't you ever say that again, you hear me? I hear you say it again and I will kill you myself." I warn him, tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiles.

I nod and pull away completely, blinking away the tears.

"Tomorrow morning the training sessions start at 8. Not that you need any, but... it might be a good chance to make allies." I tell him, "just... put the flirting aside, okay?"

"Jealous?" He teases.

"I'm just trying to keep you alive, at least, until the beginning for the Games." I tease back, earning a laugh from Finnick.

"You can joke about it and I can't?"

"You weren't joking, Finnick." I reminds him.

"You're right." He smiles, guilty, "Thank you."

The elevator signals we're at 12's apartments.

"I thought you press for 4."

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a woman go home on her own?" He smirks.

I roll my eyes, failing in hiding a smile.

"Go get some sleep, gentleman." I say.

"Yes, ma'am."

The doors close and I head to the kitchen to get a drink.

"Well, hello." Haymitch greets me from his spot on the couch.

"Tell me you didn't finish the liquor already." I joke walking to the cupboard to take a glass.

"I actually prepared a glass for you," he tells me, showing me the glass, "c'mon. "

I playfully roll my eyes and walk to sit on the couch with him.

We just sit there. Keeping each other company until it's so late we can't do anything but go to sleep.

--------------

I walk around each station of the training rooms to see if anyone need help, but as expected, no one does. They all probably know this place like the back of their hand, being first tributes and then mentors.

I keep an eye on Katniss and Peeta, to see if they're actually putting an effort in making allies... Katniss especially.

I see them walking around, inspecting the other tributes. A good part of the tribute is trying to show off, to intimidate them, most likely. I see Johanna smirking in Katniss' direction, so I look up at Plutarch sighing. Making Katniss trust any of them is gonna be harder than expected... a lot harder.

Peeta is now talking with one of the Morphlings, by the camouflage station, while Katniss is talking to Wiress and Beetee.

In my opinion they're a good choice, they're brilliant, but they're not very strong, and they need some strength too. Unfortunately the strongest one are also the cockiest one.

Speaking of cocky victors... I can't seem to find Finnick anywhere.

But I notice Katniss walking to Mags.

I would choose Mags, but because I know about the plan... Katniss doesn't, I don't understand what she's doing.

I keep on watching everyone until I feel a presence behind me.

"What do you think her strategy is?" Finnick asks from next to me.

"I... I have no idea." I sigh defeated. "But I can't exactly blame her."

"How so?"

"Look at everyone. Each victor either has a cocky, a challenging grin, or a hateful grin on their faces. Not very welcoming. Especially when she has to choose who to trust." I explain.

"That's her only choice though." He replies.

"I know," I sigh again and turn to look at him, noticing just now the rope around his neck, "what the hell is that?"

"What?" He fakes innocence.

"I told you, not to joke about it." I sigh annoyed, walking away from him. Noticing Katniss went into the simulator.

"I was just practicing," He laughs, "you know this is the best knot to learn for the arena."

"I swear, half of the time all I want to do is punch you." I shake my head, stopping to watch Katniss practice.

"And the other half?" He asks, and I don't have to look at him to know he's smirking, proud of himself.

"Punch you harder." I tease back, earning a surprised chuckle from him.

As Kantiss starts more people gather around to watch too.

"She has trust issues, doesn't she?" Johanna stands beside me, looking ahead.

"Maybe don't smirk while wielding an axe next time." I sarcastically reply and she scoffs.

We all stand watching Katniss using her skills and once she's done, everyone is at least impressed, which makes me smirk, proudly. Wiress is actually cheering, clapping her hands and that makes me smile genuinely.

----------

"Good news!" Haymitch cheers as we enter the apartment. "At least half of the Tributes want you as an ally."

"Well, they saw her shoot." Peeta adds.

"Well, sweetheart, you got your pick of the litter." Haymitch tells her.

"Choose carefully." I suggest.

"I want Wiress and Beetee. " She states, with no hesitation.

"Johanna calls them 'Nuts' and 'Volts'." Peeta says.

"They're still the smarter out there. And you need smart." I, subtly, scold him.

"Well, okay, good. Now who else?" Asks Haymitch.

"Mags."

I have no argument to defend her choice... unfortunately.

Peeta turns around, frustrated. Well, I'd be too.

"All right, fine, then no one." Katniss sternly says.

Haymitch and I share a look. We already know we will have to do it ourselves.

"I'll tell them you're still making up your mind." He says before walking away and I follow him, after sending a reassuring smile to Peeta.

"What should we do?" Haymitch asks, once we're alone.

"We will have to make allies for them." I answer, crossing my arms.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I'll start with Johanna, you talk to Finnick."

"You talk to Finnick, I'll talk to Johanna." I tell him.

"And why's that?" He mimics me, crossing his arms, there's a smirk growing on his face.

"... no reason." I avoid his eyes.

"Mh mh..." he hums, "Are you going to be attending the solo performances?"

"Nope." I answer, "I have...wedding duties to attend to."

"Fuck..." he swears, "I don't wanna be in your shoes, princess."

"Yeah... tell me about it." I groan, fighting the urge to pull at my hair.

"What's the plan?"

"Venue hunting... I think... I don't know" I let out a puff, "or maybe, Cal wants to tell me what he decided."

"Sounds more like it." He pulls me to him for a reassuring side hug, "it's his wedding, after all."

"Yeah." I laugh, and pull away, "I'm just an accessory. He will probably decide my dress too."

"Of course he will." He sighs, before he can say more, an Avox approaches up with an envelope in hand, handing it to me.

"Speak of the devil..." I sigh, opening Cal's letter.

"I'm sure the devil would be offended by that." Haymitch playfully scolds me.

"Sorry, I'll apologise when I see him. I'd gladly go to hell than meet up with Cal." I joke back, still reading the letter. "He's apparently waiting for me... eagerly."

"How romantic." He mutters, "will you be here tonight? For the scores?"

"I hope so." I say, "I'll make sure of it."

"Still be careful, princess." He nods his head, "and keep..."

" 'those eyes open', I know." I wink and walk away to the elevator, hoping the day will faster than I hope.

-------------

I don't have time to even walk out of the elevator that Cal's hand is already grabbing my wrist, excitedly leading me to the big table in his huge apartment, where a well dressed man and two assistants, I think, stand.

"Come, come, my sweetness. Mr Travers, here, was just about to tell me a great news, apparently." Cal makes me sit in a chair in front of him, so he can rest his hands on my shoulders. The gesture only makes me feel more trapped.

"Oh, yes, yes." Mr Travers nods, proudly holding his hand out to his assistant, who immediately hands him a paper. "I was coming here with the intention of showing you the options I gathered for your special day, but..."

Capitol people and their fucking theatrical manner...

"But..?" Cal presses, getting impatient.

"But I received a call this morning, just when I put the last picture in the bag... from our so loved President Snow." Mr Travers announces and I tense, "he had an incredible idea, as always. He offered his mansion as a venue for your wedding." He put the photo of the mansion down on the table.

Of fucking course.

"Really?" Cal's hold on me feels even tighter than before... maybe it is, or maybe it's just Snow's control caging me in.

Once the man nods enthusiastically, Cal shouts excited.

"That's wonderful!" He turns to me, "isn't it?"

"Wonderful." I repeat with a forced smile.

"How generous!" He comments.

"He also offered to..." again with the theatre.

"Well?"

"He volunteer to formalise the wedding himself."

"He said that?" I ask, shocked.

"Exact words." Travers nods.

'Volunteer'...

"It's going to be amazing," Cal is back behind me, his hands around my neck in what could seem an affectionate gesture, stroking my skin gently, but it's actually more suffocating than a snake hold.

They both go on and on and on talking about the wedding, as if I'm not even here.

The cake's gonna be like this, the chairs like that, the flowers, the centre-piece, the food, the music...

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, real quick, excuse me." I say standing up, and hurrying to the bathroom near the bedroom.

I try to take deep breath, looking at the time, the solo performances are about to finish. I need to find an excuse to get out. They're not even asking me anything... I scoff at my reflection in the mirror, then I wash my face and open the door.

I gasp when I come face to face with Cal.

"Cal!" I exclaim, immediately faking a laugh. "What..."

"He's gone. We almost got through everything." He tells me.

"Already?" I ask, pretending to be sad I lost it.

"Yeah, gotta be prepared. We should get married when the Quartel Quell is over, and we don't know how long it will last. Maybe two days or two weeks.. gotta be prepared." He smiles.

"Of course." I nod, "well, then I should go. I have to be present, you know, when they announce the scores."

I try to walk past him, but he doesn't move a muscle, enjoying the closeness.

He wraps an arm around my waist to pull me even closer, leaning down so our noses touch.

"How about..." he starts, "you stay here a little longer, uh? We could have some fun together. It's been a while."

"I wish... I really do," I try to come up with the most sorry expression I can, "but I do need to get back. And since we finished earlier than expected, I should take advantage of that. I still have a duty to do."

"Oh please! I miss you." His hold gets a little tighter and he pouts, "Stay. I miss you, I miss your touch... your body... fuck... you still have no idea what you do to me, don't you?"

"Cal, trust me, no one is more sorry than I am, but I have a job to do," I cup his cheek with one hand and he leans into my touch, "Snow counts on me."

"Not even a few minutes?" He tries again and I shake my head, "Okay..."

"I'm sorry." I say, even though inside I'm hitching to run out of here.

I gently pull away from him and walk to the living room to grab my jacket, all of this feeling his eyes on me, constantly.

"I'll go now." I turn to him, to check if he is far enough for my liking and walk back to the elevator.

"Sure."

Before I can walk into the elevator, he grabs my hand, spin me to face him and crashes his lips on mine. His hands grabs everything he can reach. I try to push him off, as subtly as I can, but his touch just intensifies.

Thankfully, before I start to fully panic, he pulls away, just a little, still touching my lips with his, slightly.

"Once we're married..." he pants, "I'm never... ever letting you go." He lets out a breathless chuckle that only makes my skin crawl. "And, hopefully, I'll have no more competition for your attention. I'll make sure of it."

"Yeah." Is all I can say.

Once the elevator's doors open I rush in.

Finally the doors are fully closed and I can breath again.

'I'll make sure of it.' He said...

Finnick.

---------------

"Hey," Peeta is the first one to greet me as I walk back into the apartment, "you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Uh? Yeah... yeah, all fine." I force out a smile, I notice Haymitch watching me carefully, with a look that seems to say 'we'll talk about it' and I just nod, "so... what did I miss?"

"Oh these two basically put a big target o their own backs." Haymitch states.

"We didn't..." Peeta starts, but Haymitch stops him.

"Our Baker here painted little Rue on the floor. Girl on fire over there hanged a mannequin," he pauses, "after painting Seneca Crane's beard and name on it."

I'm lost for words, I look at both Peeta and Katniss, Peeta doesn't meet my eyes, he doesn't seem remorseful, but still he probably doesn't want to see my discontent. Katniss look at me, no trace of remorse or sorrow, but kind of proud.

"Not a smart move, I give you that," I say to Haymitch who nods thankful, "but it was a damn brave one."

Haymitch looks at me dumbfounded and shakes his head, defeated.

Katniss softly smiles at me and Peeta finally look up at me with a proud grin.

"It's starting." Effie tells us, and we all gather in front of the TV and Ceasar starts listing the tributes' scores

"Has anyone ever received a 0?" Katniss wonders.

-----

It's 12's turn.

"Oh god..." I scoff at the perfect 12 score for both Peeta and Katniss.

"Here, I present to you," Haymitch points at the TV, "the consequences.'

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

"They didn't give you a perfect 12 because they were impressed by your performances." I say.

"They did that to make sure that now the other Tributes know who to aim for." Haymitch finishes. "Both of you."

I see Haymitch sends an accusatory look at Katniss knowing they just made our job at protecting Peeta harder.

"Well, the damage is done... better go all to get some sleep." I say with a sigh, "we'll have enough time tomorrow to get ready for the interviews."

Everybody nods and walks to the respective rooms. Effie walks past me, squeezing my hand, reassuringly, I smile at her and watch her go.

I turn around to Haymitch, already looking at me.

"Drink?" He sighs, I nod and follow him to the kitchen.

I sit by the counter as he pours two glasses of wine, I think... I don't really care.

"Thanks." I say as he hands me a glass.

"What happened?" He finally asks, sitting with me.

"Well... for starters the wedding venue is going to be, by courtesy of our kind President, his mansion." I start, then take a bug gulp of wine.

"How kind." Haymitch sarcastically comments.

"Then, since he is, oh so kind and oh so selfless, he will be the one to make us husband and... wife." I say the last part with a shudder.

"Control freak."

I nod and take another big gulp of alcohol.

"But I don't think that's what got you so jumpy." He puts his glass down and gives me his full attention.

"Cal was going through everything with the planner quickly, and they finished just as quickly, so I took the chance and said my goodbye. He caught me off guard and... well he kissed me and he then said he can't wait to be married and all... with no competition," I take a shaky breath, "he said he'd make sure of it."

There's a heavy silence, then Haymitch takes my hand.

"The fisherman is too stubborn to let some spoiled cunt take him out. In any way possible." He reassures me and I can't help, but smile at his choice of word.

"Yeah... maybe you're right." I say squeezing his hand grateful.

"He can't do anything to him from here. He can pay whoever he wants... but your man is hard to get rid of." He winks and I roll my eyes, "you should know that."

"He... he is not my man. Okay? I'm just worried." I defend myself.

"Sure... sure." He stands up to walk to his room, "get some sleep. So tomorrow you can warn 'not your man'. Just in case."

"Shut up."

He turns his back to me, but still raises his glass to me, and I softly laugh.

I decide to go sit by the window, to clear my head or just distract myself.

As I sit by the window with my glass, I take the remote so I can change the view. I skip a few until I get to one that actually makes me relax: the shore.

As I look out towards the artificial view I can't help to think back at when Finnick was announced winner of his Games.

After he was brought back, I managed to let him have a moment to realise he won. That time he hugged like he was afraid of being taken away again. He cried his eyes out as I tried all I could to reassure him. None of us knew what would've happened a few years later...

I almost drop the glass in my hand when I hear someone approaching. I relax once I notice it's Katniss.

"Hi." She says, "didn't mean to scare you."

"You never do." I gently smile at her, "is it the only way we can actually spend some time together?" I jest, remembering the night on the train.

"I'm afraid so." She jokes, "I needed a glass of water."

"Did Peeta need one too?" I ask, pointing to the two glasses in her hands. She seems taken off guard, but doesn't answer, she just puts the glasses down and come sit with me.

"Can I ask you a favour?" She softly says.

"I will try my best to save Peeta. Well, I'll try to get you both as far as I can, anyway." I tell her, thinking that's what she wanted to ask.

"No... no, I know you will." She says, "I wanted to ask you...."

"What?" I look at her, trying to make her feel safe enough to speak up.

"Would you look after my family?" She finally asks. I'm a little take aback by that, but my body relaxes more, feeling my heart getting warmer because she trusts me enough to take care of her family.

"You didn't need to ask me that." I gently tell her, "I would've, regardless."

"Really?" She asks.

"Of course, Katniss... I..." I take a deep breath, "I know what it's like to feel helpless and not being able to protect your family."

She looks at me, confused. "What happened?"

"I had a brother, Ray." I say, my voice breaking a little, Katniss' features soften, "do you know how I became Snow's 'protégé'?"

She shakes her head.

"My parents worked for him, apparently they were both very loyal and hard working." I start to explain, "when they died, he thought to take us in, to show Panem how generous he was, you know. It was all good for a while, he kind of taught me a lot, unfortunately, but the problems started when he assigned me to help the mentors." Kantiss nods as I speak, attentive, "after a while I couldn't take it anymore. I always got attached to the tributes, and seeing them killed in the arena was... devastating. And I made the mistake of asking him if I could stop. He didn't like it."

"He killed your brother for that?" She asks, I notice tears in her eyes forming.

"He imprisoned him, and threatened if I said no to him again he would've killed him." I tell her, "so I had to keep on assisting the mentors. Then... Finnick won. Which was the happiest day of my life, not only because I didn't want him to die, but also because I thought that maybe... just maybe, Snow would've let me see my brother. He didn't." I take a shaky breath, "when I turned sixteen he asked me to do something, he wanted to give me another 'assignment'... one I really didn't want to do. He had my brother brought into his office... then he had him killed." I notice a tear falling from her eyes as I wipe my own away, "he kept his word. He showed me he always kept his word. I wanted to die in that moment, I wanted to attack him so the Peacekeeper would shoot me, but he predicted that. Told me if I tried to get myself killed in anyway all my friends would die... and my friends included the tributes. Mentors I met, and tributes who won and I accompanied during the victory tour."

"He got you caged." Katniss says softly and I nod. "I knew I misjudged you when I first met you. But I never thought..."

"I know." I sadly smile at her, "I never blamed you."

"I'm really sorry."

"He keeps say that it's the things we love the most that destroy us." I look out the window again, "which is true... but as members of the human race we can't live without love. So I guess we are doomed." I bitterly chuckle.

"Love also makes us strong."

We both turn around to see Peeta standing there.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I also didn't want to interrupt." He apologies, genuinely sorry.

"It's okay. I care about you both, I wanted to share my story with you for a while, but I mean... it's not something you just casually say." I shrug.

"No, it's not. Thank you for trusting us." Katniss says.

"No." I shake my head, "Thank you for trusting me."

They both smile at me.

"Do you want us to keep you company?" Peeta asks.

"Go get some sleep, you need it. I'm okay." I reassure them.

"It's not a problem." Katniss tries.

"I'm fine." I smile at her, "I better try to get some sleep myself, anyway."

I stand up, Katniss soon follows, and walk with them until we're in front of Peeta's room.

"Goodnight." I smile at them.

"Goodnight."

"'Night."

-------------------

I'm bouncing my leg as I wait for the elevator to stop at the 4th floor so I can finally talk to Finnick.

Once the doors open I rush in finding Finnick with Mags at the table. I stand here a moment, looking at how normal they look, talking. Like a family, and not like two people about to be sent into a deadly arena.

Then, Finnick's eyes move and lock with mine. His smile brightens for a moment, before noticing my fidgeting hands, then it turns serious.

"Y/n?"

Mags turns to me too, she stands up once she notices my nerves.

"I... I need to talk to Finnick." I say.

Mags walks past me, after giving my hands a good reassuring squeeze, then she leaves us alone.

"Is something wrong?" Finnick asks, standing up too and walking to me.

I lead him to the window so we can sit and talk.

"I... well...uh... yesterday I had to go see Cal," I start, and notice Finnick jaw already tensing, "for the wedding... he and the planner finished rather quickly and when I was leaving... uh..."

"Did he hurt you?" He asks, immediately looking for any sign on me.

"No, no, no." I quickly assure him, "it's what he said."

"What did he say?"

"He said he can't wait to marry me and to finally have me all to himself... with no competition." I look him in the eyes, he frowns, "he said he would make sure of it."

"What... what does it mean?" He asks.

"It means... you need to be more careful in the arena." I sternly say.

"Do you think he would try something?"

"I don't know. He does have enough money to corrupt any other Gamemaker, but the last word is always the Head Gamemaker, but... uh... just be careful." I say, with a soft voice, "Please..."

He looks at me with his sweet eyes and takes my hand in his.

"I will."

"Promise me." I literally order him.

He holds my hand tighter, serious eyes locked on mine.

"I promise you."

I nod, taking a deep breath, not relieved, but a little calmer.

"Thank you." I let out a big sigh and pull myself together, "Alright, uhm... the interviews will start at 8... the usual stuff, you know the drill.." I stand up.

"Thanks." He smiles, standing as well.

We look at each other, the world seems to disappear, his eyes are all I care about on this moment. I make the mistake of looking at his lips for a second, my eyes move quickly between his eyes and his lips, anxiously. He notices and comes closer, taking my hands once again.

"It's okay." He whispers.

"It's really not, but I appreciate the lie." I sadly chuckle, and he does too, caressing my hands.

"You're right, it's not okay. But it's not your fault." He reassures me, "okay?"

I nod and he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me reassuringly.

"You're the one who has to fight for his life... and here you are... comforting me." I mutter, pulling away.

"Yeah, well... you're the one who'll have to deal with Cal Kingslay, not me." He jokes and I laugh, showing his slightly.

"Hard to tell which is worse." I play along.

I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder, I turn around to Mags worried face.

"It's okay." I tell her, she then points at me insistingly, "I am okay, I promise."

She smiles sweetly at me, then points at Finnick then at herself, with a determined look, to tell me she's going to take care of him in the arena.

"Take care of each other. Okay?" I ask her and she nods.

"We will." Finnick rubs my arm, comforting.

"Okay... okay, I do have to go and get my tributes ready" I tell them.

"We'll see you tonight then?" He asks as he leads me to the elevator.

"I'll be in the audience." I smile at him.

"The only reason to be on that stage tonight." He grins, "so I can properly look at you."

"Finnick.." I playfully warn him.

"What?" He fake innocence, "I will flirt with you for as long as I can."

"You're insufferable." I roll my eyes and enter the elevator. "Careful on what you say tonight."

He nods, a sweet childish smile grows on his face.

"I'll see you tonight, my love." He says just before the doors close, preventing me from scolding him more.

I shake my head and deeply sigh. As the elevator goes back up to 12, I start to think of a way to properly protect them all in the arena. I know Plutarch will help, but too much help will get suspicious... and if Cal manages to pay someone, it would get harder.

I'm not losing any of them.

I'm not losing him.