#this would at least allow me to track where they are so i can find them if this happens again

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Middle of Nowhere (Part 4)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, dark!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, dark!Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Reader (no relationships) Summary: As the hunt begins, you try to make it back to town before one of your captors can carry out their murderous plan. But it isn't long until one of them finds you... Word Count: 6037 TW: NOT ALL TWS MAY BE MENTIONED SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Language, Hunted for Sport, Knives, Blood, Reader has hair long enough to grab, Reader's POV Notes: I am EXTREMELY proud and excited about this series and hope you enjoy! Huge thanks to @green-socks for the beta read and to @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, and @blue-aconite for all the constant love, and encouragement in my DMs 💕

Series Masterlist

The freshly fallen snow stretches for miles in all directions. Your head is still pounding where Rooster drove his elbow into it but at least your vision has mostly returned to normal. Now that you have left the clearing with its electric lanterns, your eyes begin to adjust to the natural lighting around you. Luckily—or maybe not so luckily—the moon is nearly full and reflecting off the snow around you, allowing you to avoid crashing into the trees directly in front of you. That doesn’t stop branches from snagging on your jacket or underbrush from scratching at your bare legs and feet and you still can’t see more than a few feet in front of you, but you are trying to find any positives in your current situation.

Who are you kidding—there’s nothing positive about your current situation.

You’ve been drugged, assaulted, stripped down, and are being forced to flee from a pair of psycho killers who plan on murdering you in ways you can’t possibly even fathom. All while you’re barefoot and wearing a jacket that stands out so starkly against the snow that it might as well be a neon sign saying “come and get me”. 

But on top of all that, the worst part is that there’s no way to cover your tracks as you go. The snow is several inches deep and with every step you take, you sink into the soft powder leaving a clear imprint behind that either of the men chasing you can easily follow. You could try to take the time to cover your tracks, but that’s much easier said than done, and even in the best-case scenario, it would still be noticeable something had disturbed the snow. Besides, it would just stall your escape, allowing them to get closer, and it would further numb your already frozen hands as you dug through the snow.

So, no. Continuing forward is the only slim chance you have of making it to safety and out of your captors’ clutches. 

The only slight advantage you may have over them is that neither man seemed too familiar or comfortable in the snowy terrain. You, on the other hand, have lived in this area your entire life. Hell, you’ve been coming out to these woods for as long as you can remember. That has to count for something, right? Maybe under normal conditions it would, but between the lingering effect of the drugs they used on you, the throbbing in your head from Rooster’s blow, the burning pain in your hands and feet, and the cold making it difficult to even breathe, you aren’t able to navigate as easily as normal. So once again, whatever upper hand you might have come up with is snatched away from you.

Even knowing it is a useless endeavor, you still refuse to give up without some sort of a fight. So, with your hands jammed deep within your jacket’s pockets and your hood pulled as tightly around your face as possible, you continue to run forward in a straight line as you try to think up some way to fight back.

You aren’t sure how far you’ve gotten or how long you’ve been running, but you freeze as you hear something from the direction you had run from. The voice echoes around the barren woods and you manage to make out the last few words. “—run. Hangman’s coming.”

Shit. It seems as though your head start is over and the hunt has officially begun.

The fact you are still close enough to the clearing to be able to hear Hangman’s whoop of excitement sends a shiver through you—one not caused by the cold. While you’d much rather deal with Hangman than Rooster every time, escape or evasion from both men is still your ultimate goal. If only you had a weapon or some sort of protection against the two heavily armed men. But they must have emptied your jacket pockets before handing it over and your tank top and boy shorts barely provide any protection from the cold, let alone anything that could be used against your pursuers. For now, your only chance is to keep running and hope, by some miracle, you can evade them. 

As you run, time seems to stand still. You feel as if you are on a treadmill, running as fast as you can yet remaining in one place. You have no idea how long it has been since you took off from the clearing, but everything looks the same. The same towering trees and bushes reaching out from the darkness towards you, the moonlight only seemingly illuminating a few dozen feet in front of you at one time. The same unmarked snow stinging your feet as you sink into it with every step, a troublesome numbness spreading from your little toes across to the others. The same silence enveloping you, the only sound breaking it is the sound of your panting and chattering teeth. 

But then…another sound breaks the silence.

There is a soft whoosh from behind you seconds before something drives itself into your left shoulder. You collapse into the snow with a cry of pain, twisting around to see a long, thin knife jutting from your shoulder blade. Luckily, your coat managed to deflect most of the damage, but you can still feel hot blood oozing down your back, leaving a warm trail in its wake.

As you reach for the knife, wincing as another bolt of pain shoots through your shoulder, a voice calls out from the dark maze of trees, “If you thought my dart skills were impressive, darlin’, just wait ‘til you get a taste of what I can do with a blade.”

You hear another whoosh and you just have time to roll sideways as another knife lodges in the snow, exactly where your knee had been seconds ago. The move had saved you from being incapacitated, but the quick jostling causes the knife still in your shoulder to sway violently back and forth and you are forced to bite your lip to keep from wailing. The taste of copper fills your mouth, but you would rather bite through your tongue than give Hangman the satisfaction of hearing you scream. 

You take a deep breath before yanking the knife out of your shoulder with a stifled moan. 

Flexing your hand, you’re relieved to see the knife didn’t seem to cause any nerve or mobility damage. You didn’t need another thing to add to your growing list of disadvantages. 

Grabbing the second knife as you heave yourself to your feet, you spin around brandishing both knives in front of you. Hangman is close enough to nail you with a knife, but he is still far enough away to remain cloaked in darkness. This means the next attack could come from any direction, and, if you’re not careful, it could be deadly.

“You know,” the voice calls out to you from your left and you swiftly turn towards the sound. “I was so sure Rooster would find you first. I haven’t seen him this set on winning a hunt since we found a girl outside of Boston who looked like his ex-girlfriend. Oof, the things he did to her that night. Even I got a little nauseous. So I can only imagine the look on his face when he walks up and sees me on top of you, slowly carving you up or having more fun like we did back at the bar.” 

You shutter as you recall the feeling of his tongue in your mouth back before you knew what a psycho he was. His voice continues to taunt you from the darkness. “Or, better yet, I want to watch his face as he stumbles on your corpse hanging from one of these trees. Remind him exactly why they call me Hangman.”

“You sick fuck,” you cry, still brandishing your knives in the direction of his voice. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we enjoy it.” His voice now comes from your right and you nearly trip over your frozen feet as you face it. “Because we can. Because there’s nothing better in this world than snatching someone like you and dropping them into a place like this where they don’t stand a chance. It’s the natural order of things that humans have either forgotten or hidden away because we’ve been told it’s wrong. But what is more right than a predator hunting its prey?”

Panting slightly, causing large puffs of your breath to bloom in front of your face, you call out, “This is where you made your mistake, dickhead. I’m not your timid ‘little fox’ who you threw into an unfamiliar arena. Around here, we’re raised in these woods. Taught to hunt almost before we can walk. So if you think I’m gonna just lay down without a fight, you’re about to be sorely disappointed.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got me all wrong.” You whirl around, knives raised, to face the sound of his voice behind you. “I don’t want you to give up or give in. I’m ready for a fight. That’s what makes this fun.” 

With that last word, another knife shoots out at you from the darkness. You have just enough time to dive backwards before it passes over you, inches from your face. But before you can scamper back to your feet, Hangman is charging out of the woods towards you. As he reaches you, knife raised, you thrust your feet up, driving them into his stomach. Using his forward momentum, you flip him over your head and he ends up on his back gasping in the snow. The knife he had been holding in his hand disappears into the snow somewhere to the left but far enough away he can’t reach it.

As Hangman continues to struggle to catch his breath behind you, you scamper to your feet. Grinning as you approach your would-be attacker, you chuckle, “And my ex said those self-defense classes were a load of bull.” With your hands resting on your knees as you peer down at him, you ask Hangman in a cloying voice, “How’s those solar plexus feeling? Little winded there, buddy?”

He glares up at you with murder burning in his eyes but even as he struggles to sit up, he’s helpless until he has a moment to collect himself. That thought only makes your grin grow wider. 

Stepping over his waist, you sit down—hard—on his stomach, causing him to let out another oof as the air is knocked out of him once again. Pressing the knives he had previously thrown at you against either side of his neck, you drop the smile as you growl, “Now listen, you fucker. I’m not like you. I haven’t enjoyed a second of any of this and I’m not the kind of person who likes hurting others—even pieces of shit psycho murderers like you. So, I’m going to walk away from here and you’re not going to follow me. In fact, you’re going to go find your psychotic friend and you’re both going to get back in your truck and drive the fuck out of my life forever. And for that small gesture of human decency, I won’t turn you in to the cops when I reach town. We all just go about our lives like this never happened and you never come after me again. Do we have a deal?”

“What if I say no?” he pants, the murderous glint in his eyes suddenly taking on a more mischievous gleam to it. “You said it yourself, you’re no killer. So what’s your plan if I decide I’ll take my chances against you? You really think you can plunge those things into me? Watch the life fade from my eyes as my blood soaks onto your hands? That’s a stain you’ll never be able to wash out. Me? I’d bathe in blood every day if I got the chance. But can you live with that stain on your hands for the rest of your life?”

“Considering it meant I lived through this nightmare you put me through, I think I’d be fine. But should we test that theory?” You press the tips of the blades deeper into his neck and you feel him flinch beneath you. The movement is slight and he maintains a blank expression, but that little, involuntary motion is enough to boost your confidence in your plan. Seems you are making your point. “Besides, I said I don’t like hurting people, not that I wouldn’t. Believe me, if it comes down to either you or me, I’ll choose me every time. But I’d rather not kill anyone if I have another option. So, what do you say? You let me walk away or you get skewered with your own knives? Your choice.”

Hangman glares at you for a long time and you can almost see his mind at work trying to figure out another way out of this. But when you drive the knives in deeper, blood trickling down his neck into the white snow, he snarls, “Alright! I’ll let you go. But I can’t make any promises about Rooster. Once he starts a hunt, there’s no stopping him until he’s tasted blood.”

You consider this for a moment then nod. “Fine. But he said the rules are that if I make it to town, I’m free. Right? So that means he’ll have to stop then.”

Hangman hesitates. “Yeah, those are the rules. But…”

“But what?”

“But it’s never happened before. No one’s ever made it to safety so I don’t know what he would actually do if you make it back to town before he catches you. Technically, he’s supposed to let you go but I wouldn’t be surprised if he snuck into your apartment a few days from now and slit your throat while you slept.”

Pressing the knives further into his skin, you growl, “How the fuck do you know I live in an apartment?”

“Your driver’s license was in your wallet,” he grunts, squirming under the pressure of the blades. “It’s one of the first things we look at. The anonymity of a random victim is more fun, but we have to make sure your disappearance wasn’t going to be noticed before we could leave town. So, we did a little research while you were still unconscious.”

Which means they probably know everything about you. Your real name, your address, your social media which means your friends and family. Even if you escape, there’s nothing stopping them from biding their time then returning to finish the job. However, none of that matters if you can’t survive the night.

You know this is a horrible idea. There is nothing to stop Hangman from coming after you the moment you remove the knives from his neck beside his word. And considering he’s a lying, psychotic serial killer, there’s very little doubt he’ll do just that the moment you let your guard down. But what else can you do? You think what you said to Hangman is true and you could kill him if it came down to it, but there is still a lingering doubt in the back of your mind. 

You had been hunting many times with your dad growing up and had killed your share of smaller animals before. But killing a squirrel and killing a person were two very different things. If you try yet fail and Hangman sees you can’t go through with it, then you lose any leverage you currently have which means there’s nothing left to stop him from overpowering and killing you. 

Then, there’s Rooster. Even if Hangman does hold up his side of your deal, you know deep down Rooster won’t. He was practically coming in his pants at the thought of all the unthinkable things he was going to do to you if he got his hands on you—and that was before you seemingly broke his nose. After that, there’s no way he’ll agree to let you go as long as you are still in the woods. And while you may have gotten lucky with Hangman and gotten the upper hand, you doubt you’d be able to recreate that feat with Rooster. Not when all he can think about is mutilating and murdering you. But maybe it would slow him down if he finds his friend and Hangman explains what happened. Maybe it would give you just enough time to reach town before he got his hands on you. Then there would be nothing stopping you from going back on your part of the deal and heading straight to the police station so these two could be stopped before they could finish their hunt.

Yet that unlikely plan hinged on Hangman truly agreeing to let you go which put you right back to the issue of not being able to trust him not to kill you.

Suddenly, you remember the noose he showed you back at camp he kept tied around his belt. Dropping one of your knives, you reach down and begin blindly reaching for the rope with one hand as the other still holds the knife to Hangman’s throat.

He chuckles as your hand brushes against something that is definitely not the rope. “Whoah there, sweetheart. If that’s what you wanted, I’d have given it to you back at the bar. All you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up, you perverted bastard,” you mutter as you continue to fumble around his belt. Your fingers finally brush against something thin and coarse and, instinctually, you glance down to confirm you located your target.

It is a dire mistake.

Instantly, Hangman thrusts up and slams his head into yours. The knife you had pressed against his throat cuts a thin line across his skin, drawing blood, but isn’t deep enough to slow him down. His forehead drives into yours and the world goes black for a second as your head snaps backward, the knife flying from your grasp. You feel yourself fall back into the snow as Hangman climbs to his feet. By the time your vision begins to return to normal—though your head is once again throbbing in pain—he is standing over you in a similar gloating stance as to how you leered down at his prone body moments before, blood streaming down the side of his neck.

As a malicious grin slowly spreads across his face, Hangman holds up the rope. “Was this what you were looking for? Well, sweetheart, if you want it so badly, who am I to say no.”

Winding back his arm, he throws the noose end of the rope high into the air where it arches perfectly before soaring over a limb of a nearby tree and dropping back down just within his reach. It is the kind of throw only a trained athlete could pull off and, especially given his physique, it wouldn’t surprise you if you learned Hangman had played some form of pro sports at some point in his life. He also has the ego for it.

You try to crawl away from him across the frozen ground, but the world still hasn’t completely cleared and you slip and crash back into the snow. As you prop yourself up on your forearms once more, you feel yourself yanked to your feet as a hand grabs a fistful of your hair. A ripping, burning feeling tears at your scalp as you struggle in Hangman’s grasp, but it’s too strong. Tears sting your eyes in the frosty air as he begins dragging you on your stomach over to the limb where the noose swings ominously. 

It’s over. You had your chance to put down your attacker and you pussied out. Now he is going to kill you and there’s nothing else you can do to stop him. You wonder if anyone will ever find your body or if everyone will always just wonder where you disappeared. Maybe one day there will be an episode of 20/20 or a True Crime documentary on the bartender who just vanished one night after her shift and the theories of what might have happened to her. That makes you wonder how many of those shows or stories you’ve seen over the years were actually caused by these two and their group of psychopathic killers. 

Hangman releases his hold on your hair when he reaches his noose causing you to faceplant into the snow. You want to just lay there and just let the cold embrace of the snowbank take you, but of course, Hangman isn’t that generous. His foot drives into your side, kicking up slightly so it flips you over onto your back. Groaning, you clutch at your aching ribs but he isn’t giving you a moment of relief. He learned from his previous mistake. 

Grabbing the noose, he pulls it over until he is standing over you with it swinging in his hand. Grinning, he tugs on the knots as he stares down at you. “You know, I planned on drawing this out and making it really satisfying for me. But seeing how you weren’t a fan of my knives—or maybe enjoyed them a little too much—” he gestures to his neck where blood is still freely flowing from the slash you put there “—I think it’s time to move on to the grand finale, don’t you think? It’s my favorite part after all.”

On your back looking up at him, you try to scuttle away as he leans down to slip the noose over your neck. He lunges at you but you pull your legs away just in time to avoid his grasp. As you continue to crawl away, you notice the other side of the rope that is dangling from the limb is slowly unfurling and all the slack is getting pulled up into the tree as Hangman drags the noose along with him. In a moment, it’ll all slip up out of his reach or even all the way off the limb. The smallest smile flashes across your face at the realization.

Hangman must have noticed because his brow furrows for a moment before he looks over his shoulder. In doing so, he unconsciously pulls on the noose as his body turns and the rope jumps another few inches into the air. 

Hangman’s eyes grow wide as he mutters, “No, no, no, no.” 

Releasing the noose end, Hangman leaps up just as the other end of the rope goes soaring past. He just manages to snag the end of the rope between two fingers before it is out of reach. Then he crashes back to the ground.

Seeing your chance, you snatch the noose as it begins to rise up into the tree and, bounding forward, tackle Hangman just as he is sitting back up. He flails underneath you and one of his fists collides with your jaw, snapping your head back. You can taste blood as it begins pooling in your mouth, but you ignore it and the pain. Instead, you weave between Hangman’s continued flailing limbs and, just as he raises up to snarl at you, you slip the noose over his head. The action surprises him enough that he pauses for a few seconds as he processes what just happened.

But that’s all the time you need.

Grabbing the other end of the rope, you heave with every ounce of energy you have left. Hangman is a muscular guy, but somehow your efforts manage to tighten the noose around his neck, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. As he claws at the rope, you heave again, practically dragging yourself across the snow to get the needed leverage. The rope moves a little further and Hangman is lifted off the ground. It’s not much, but it’s enough that you can see he is struggling to breathe. Not wanting to make the mistake of underestimating him again, you give the rope one final pull. Given the energy you expended on the first few pulls, it was a much weaker effort, but it does the job. Hangman’s full body weight is now suspended by the rope.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood into the pure snow, you tie off your end of the rope on a nearby limb. After ensuring it won’t give him any slack, you take a few steps closer to where Hangman is thrashing on his rope. Grinning at the sight of his face growing redder and redder, you lock eyes with him and sneer, “Turns out, I’m really enjoying this grand finale after all. It’s my favorite part too.”

His lips move as he tries to snarl something back at you, but the rope around his neck is making it difficult for him to manage much more than some grunts and rasps. As his breathing begins to grow more frantic and strained, you see a shadow of fear pass over his face as his fate begins to become clearer to him. It is a sight that warms your entire body despite the frigid environment around you. 

Stepping forward so you are as close as possible while still just out of his reach, you murmur, “What you’re feeling right now, that fear and helplessness? That dread of knowing what’s about to happen yet knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop it? That’s what all those women felt while they hung there while you got your rocks off. And I gotta say, I questioned whether or not I’d really be able to kill you. But now that it’s happening, I’ve never seen a more satisfying sight.”

Almost all the fight has gone out of Hangman as he weakly wheezes and meekly pulls at the rope. His eyes have become bloody as the blood vessels burst from all his straining and his face is so red it's almost purple. 

No longer afraid of the man who had beat, stabbed, and almost murdered you, you step closer until your face is nearly touching his chest. Looking up at his face swaying above you, you put all the fury, all the pain, all the fear you’ve felt over the past few hours into your words as you hiss, “I hope in whatever Hell I’m sending you to that you’re forced to relive this moment for all eternity.”

If Hangman heard or understood you, he makes no sign of it. Instead, it seems as if all his remaining energy is focused on getting out his last word or words. Even as you watch the last sparks of life flickering out, his lips continue to move as if trying to say something even as his chest begins to spasm due to lack of air. 

And, just as you think he’s done, he manages to force out a single breathy word that is only decipherable because you are practically pressed against him. 

“Bra-Bradley…”

Then his hands drop from his neck as his entire body goes slack and the woods fall silent. 

You stand looking up at him for a long time, holding your breath in anticipation of one last jump scare or resurgence. But this isn’t a movie. The evil is gone and Hangman’s not coming back for more. 

As the realization that it’s really over finally washes over you, you stumble back and collapse to the ground. All the fear and adrenaline that had kept you going since that first knife struck you in the shoulder, suddenly vanishes. 

For the first time, you feel the full impact of the injuries you’ve sustained. Your shoulder cries out from all the strain you’ve put on it, all with a stab wound still bleeding down your back. You just now notice how your tank top clings to your skin from all the blood and sweat that has soaked into it. Your jaw throbs from where Hangman’s fist collided with it, and you can tell it’ll be swollen and bruised in an hour or so. At least you have plenty of snow to press against it. Your scalp still stings from where Hangman pulled you across the ground by your hair and you really hope he didn’t make a bald spot somewhere. But it’s your ribs that hurt the most. It’s doubtful they are broken, probably just bruised, yet each breath sends a fresh stabbing pain into your side. It’ll cause the most issues as you continue on.

That thought almost makes you cry. Taking on Hangman had been difficult enough and you had barely escaped with your life. However, Rooster is still somewhere in these woods actively looking for you. Any head start you had is gone after all the time you took tussling with Hangman. And you have a feeling if Rooster was out for your blood before this, when he discovers you killed his friend, he’s going to want to carve you up with a rusty knife piece by tiny little piece. 

But maybe…

The only reason you were able to get the advantage against Hangman was because he underestimated you. He was too distracted by his own fun and games to really pay attention to what you were doing. Now, while you seriously doubt Rooster will make that same mistake—not after you headbutted him in the clearing—maybe he has a different distraction that will work on him. Namely, his rage and blood lust.

If you can get him so angry and ramp up his need to kill you so high, then maybe, just maybe, he will get sloppy and you’ll have a chance to take him down too. Maybe you can make him see red so strongly, that he won’t be able to see you going in for the kill.

Glancing back at Hangman’s limp body, you wonder if there’s a way to use it in this new plan. Maybe carve something into his skin with one of his knives? Like a message to Rooster saying you have Hangman’s weapons and he’s next? Very Die Hard of you.

It wouldn’t be that difficult to do. After all, Hangman isn’t that far in the air. In fact, the toes of his boots softly kiss the snow beneath him as he continues to sway.

His boots!

Ignoring the way your muscles scream at you as you move, you scramble to your knees and crawl over to Hangman’s dangling body. Your fingers are so numb and swollen from the cold that untying the tight laces is nearly impossible but you refuse to give up. By the time you can slide the second boot off his rapidly chilling body, your nails are cracked and your fingers are bleeding, ruby droplets coating the snow around you.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if it’s too morbid to also take his socks. However, the boots are several sizes too big and your feet are so frozen that you need to take whatever extra padding you can get. So you slip off his thick, woolen socks. You do draw the line at taking his pants though. As much as you would love some covering for your bare legs, you knew the fit would be way off and just slow you down as you tried to plan the rest of your escape. So, you resign yourself to your new socks and boots.

As you pull them on, the heat radiating from within the soft wool and worn leather feels like Heaven wrapped around your frostbitten feet. However, you can’t help but shudder at the knowledge this is the last warmth Hangman will ever give off. It’s almost like you can feel his hands wrapped around your ankles and trailing up your shins. 

You try your best to push those thoughts aside. After all, you only did what you had to do to survive. If the roles had been reversed and Hangman had won the hunt, he would currently be doing fuck knows what manner of twisted, ungodly things to your body. 

Just the thought of what he might have done reignites the fury and fight in your chest that had blazed when you watched Hangman get a taste of his own medicine. 

Turning back to his now shoeless body, you begin to doubt your original idea of carving a message into him. For one, you really don’t want to do it. Killing him was one thing but mutilating his body is a whole other ball game. Plus, you have terrible penmanship using a pen or pencil. There’s no telling if your message would even be legible when using a knife as a writing tool and then you just wasted time for no reason. Then there is the fact you are in a massive wood at night in the dark. Even if Rooster is tracking you, there’s no guarantee he’ll come across Hangman’s body, especially with his dark denim jacket and jeans helping him blend into the night. 

But that gives you another idea. 

Stripping off your burnt-orange jacket, you shiver as the cold air hits your bare arms. Trying your best to ignore it, you grab Hangman’s jacket, wrestle it off of him, and put it on yourself. Though denim on the outside, the interior is sherpa-lined and it is as warm, if not more, than the jacket you just traded him for. 

Feeling something in the pockets, you are overjoyed to discover his phone in one and the keys to the truck in the other. Checking the phone first, you see it’s locked. However, the key is a facial recognition scan. You know it’s a long shot, but, standing on your toes, you line Hangman’s face up to the screen and nearly squeal when you see it unlock. Your joy deflates somewhat when you see there’s no service but you remember Hangman mentioning the terrible service in these woods when he got that call from his missing hunter friends back in the clearing. Hopefully, as you walk, you’ll find a spot with at least one bar so you can call for help. Going into the settings, you disable the lock function so you won’t need Hangman’s face next time you try to access the phone.

Turning back to what you had planned, you do your best to fit your jacket onto his body. It’s too small but you manage to get it pulled up almost to his shoulders, enough that it’ll stay on. Then, taking a few deep breaths, you slowly pull on the end of the rope. It’s hard going without the adrenaline rush to aid in your efforts, but eventually, you manage to raise Hangman until his head almost brushes the limb the rope is thrown over. Hopefully, between the height and the flash of color, Rooster will be able to spot him if he is anywhere in the area. 

However, that means you need to leave this area as soon as possible.

Now that you have Hangman’s phone and truck keys, your best bet is to try to head back to the clearing. If you can make it there before Rooster catches you, you should be able to steal their truck and head for town. Or at least get somewhere where you can use the phone. 

And if for some reason that plan doesn’t work, at least the clearing will make a good place to make your final stand against Rooster.

Collecting all of the knives that you can find that had scattered around during your fight, you tuck them into the inside of your new jacket. Then, taking one last look at Hangman’s limp body hanging high overhead, you turn and head back in the direction you came from.

They wanted you to be a fox, fine, you’ll be a fox. A fox will do whatever it takes to free themselves from a trap and survive, even if that means gnawing off their own foot. So while it might take doing unspeakable things that will haunt you for the rest of your life in order to survive, it’s a price you’re willing to pay to be the one who walks out of these woods at the end of the night.

One down. One to go.

Thank you all for reading, reblogging, and commenting! There are two more parts coming soon in this series (Part 5 in Bradley's POV and Part 6 in Reader's POV). But I also have more planned for this universe beyond that so stay tuned for updates!

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@ravenmoore14 , @clancycucumber230 , @kmc1989 , @ohtobeleah

@sunlightmurdock , @sparrows-corner , @ryebecca @slightly-psycho-multifan , @mads-weasley , 

@trencher4lyfe , @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @je-suis-prest-rachel,

@shanimallina87 , @mak-32, @blue-aconite , @deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1,

@desert-fern , @withahappyrefrain , @roosterforme , @dingochef , @littlestatesman

@sorchathered

[dragonanon]

Putting AirTags on all my important crap because I wan to be able to find said crap when my dumbass inevitably misplaces it/leaves it behind somewhere. 🙃

[baronessvonglitter]

Bad Santa

sleazy mall Santa!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: Frantically seeking relief during the Christmas rush, the Santa at your local mall is the last person you'd expect to help.. and the only one who can.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is a hot and horny mess and wears a short skirt. Mall Santa is a perv, but he's your perv. Semi-public masturbation (f). Squirting. Cockwarming. Semi-public sex. Infidelity. Unprotected piv. Oral (m & f receiving). Analingus (f receiving). Possibly illegal use of a candy cane. Creampie. Come swallowing. Santa Joel is a menace and a sleaze but that's what we all need, right?

Author's Note: one of the first things I learned about @strang3lov3 is that we share a deep love for Bad Santa (and Billy Bob in general) so this is written in her honor. Bug, I hope you enjoy Santa Joel, and don't forget to leave out some cigs and whiskey for him on Xmas Eve. (And the latest edition of Hustler. He's an old-school magazine man.)

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You're home on Christmas break from college and all you want to do is fuck the boyfriend you left behind and have been faithful to for four long, painful months. But the only thing on Derek's mind is doing last minute Christmas shopping.

The mall on Christmas Eve is the last circle of hell.

Derek guides you through the crowd. "Sleigh Ride" plays over the speakers, tinny, bright and cheery. You hate it. You're impatient. You're horny. You need to find a way to get him alone, even just a fingerbang would suffice. For now.

You pass by the huge Christmas tree in the center where the mall Santa waits with bored-looking elves. There's no line, which is surprising given it's the last day for photo ops.

Santa watches as you pass, cheap plastic beard hanging off, revealing gray scruff, his red suit wrinkled and stained. You track his gaze roving over your figure, fully concentrating on the jiggle of your ass under the short skirt you'd picked out in the hopes of getting a quickie.

"God damn," you hear him mutter. "Merry Christmas, babygirl." he calls out.

You glance back and see him pull the beard down, wiggling his tongue at you in a lewd manner.

Fucking sleaze. But your pussy is wet and throbbing, and this is the first bit of attention you've had all day. You respond by stuffing your tongue in your cheek and making a blow job motion. Santa licks his lips and subtly palms his cock over his fluffy red pants.

Derek, oblivious, is walking you towards a department store.

"Mommy said she'd like a new bathrobe for Christmas," he says, bringing you past the awful perfume and makeup counters. You heard right.. Mommy. What the fuck?

"Didn't you already buy her a foot massager?" you ask, barely hiding your disinterest, looking around for a corner where you can blow him.

"She said she wants the robe instead," he says, diligently checking each one on the rack. Pink, green, blue, they're all in ugly prints and you wonder how little he must think of his mom to actually buy her a bathrobe instead of something nice.

But the bigger problem is your aching cunt.

"Derek, come on, just pick one out," you beg him, whispering in his ear, giving his lobe a little bite.

"Calm down, we're in public," he chides you over nervous laughter.

"So? That makes it more exciting." Closer to him as the clothing rack hides you, you cup his crotch, disappointed to find he isn't even remotely hard. Not a problem. You know exactly how to get him started.

"Let's go to the dressing room," you tell him before he can remove your hand. "I'll let you do whatever you want, please, I just need you now.."

"Get a hold of yourself," he whispers harshly, finally pulling your hand from him.

"Derek, what the fuck?" you whisper back. "Your horny girlfriend wants you to fuck her in a semi-public place and you're limp as a fucking noodle. Don't you want to at least watch me get off?"

You're not even allowing him time to think about it, leading him to the men's dressing room, where you're less likely to set off an alarm than the women's. You step into the first stall and push him against the wall, caging him in with your arms.

"Sweetheart, what the hell?"

"Fuck me," you tell him. "Jesus, Derek, I'm pussy on a plate right now." You lift your leg, rubbing against him, but only the fly of his jeans provides any feeling. "And you can't even get hard??"

"You're coming on a little strong," he says faintly, as if he's being cornered by a feral animal. And in a way he is.

You lean back on the little dressing room seat, hiking up your skirt. "At least eat me out, for Christ's sake," you whine, fingers dipping into your dripping-over cunt.

"Darling! You're acting like a crazy person," he says, shielding his eyes as you desperately finger yourself.

"You're such a pussy," you grunt out, breath hitching as you fuck yourself on two, then three fingers.

"You're not wearing any panties??" he says too loud, but you're past caring who hears, or if anyone even walks in. You'll gratefully fuck the store manager and the security guard who'll probably come to haul you away.

Derek keeps his gaze averted as you continue shamelessly fucking your hand, reaching inside your dress to twist your nipple. "Derek.. fuck.. you just gonna stand there and be useless?" You shove a fourth finger in your snatch, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your boyfriend is deeply afraid as he risks a peek from between his hands covering his face. "You look possessed! You have to stop or someone's going to hear you!"

"Baby, please, put your cock in my mouth," you beg, still working yourself into a frenzy. "Jizz on my face, anything, please!" You're on the floor now, riding your own fingers, your other hand madly strumming at your clit like a perverted version of air guitar.

There's a knock at the dressing room door, to which you answer "Go away, we're fucking" Then you come, squirting all over the bathrobe Derek was going to gift his dear mommy.

"You're lucky that guy didn't turn us into the police," Derek says, tight-lipped as he leads you back towards the center of the mall. "Got it all out of your system?" He's leaving the store embarrassed and minus any gifts.

"Yes," you sigh in exasperation, though it's a bald-faced lie. The need is growing again and you're just a slave to it. Your hands itch to go up your skirt again, to relieve the tension before it becomes unbearable.

And there he is, right where you left him before. Fucking Santa Claus. Like he's been waiting for you this whole time.

"Let's take a picture," you pull on Derek's hand. "Please? End the day on a good note?" You do your best to look contrite but all you're thinking about is sitting on that sleazy man's lap, maybe getting felt up. It'd be fucking amazing to have someone touch you besides your own fingers.

Before he can even protest you're practically skipping past the velvet rope and traipsing up the candy-cane lined walk to the big green chair where Santa sits. His eyes already on you, he pats his lap, tongue peeking out between his lips.

Derek follows after, but is stopped by one of the elves, who tells him he has to pay in advance for a photo.

"And what's your name?" Santa murmurs, discreetly adjusting himself as you seat yourself on his lap. "Does it matter?" you ask, subtly lifting the back of your skirt as he pulls his thick hard cock. "Guess not," he chuckles low and deep, then hisses as your slick tight cunt envelops him.

"My fucking god," he says lowly, doing all he can to keep from thrusting up into you as your boyfriend comes up, all smiles as he watches you get cozy with Santa. He makes as if to sit on Santa's other thigh. "Not you," Santa grunts, his hands on your waist as you clench and throb around him. Derek holds a smile and stands to the side opposite you.

This, this is what you needed. His cock isn't even all the way in, the way you pulse around him pushes him out a little until his hands grab your waist, as if to pose you for the camera, and pushes you down, bottoming out within your sopping wet cunt.

"Gonna leave a mess on me," he murmurs. "Already got my lap soaked. And the suit's a fuckin' rental."

His breath smells like cigarettes and cheap booze and it's only making you want him more. "Fuck, I needed this.."

"You been a good girl this year?"

"Not at all."

He leans in and whispers: "Good girls get presents. Bad girls like you get to sit on Santa's fat cock." He shifts his lap up a little, jutting up into you and you bite your lip to barely suppress a moan.

Your picture is being taken with Santa but you could give a shit. Cockwarming him while he's whispering filth in your ear is the most fun you've ever had.

"Does baby girl want a candy cane?" he asks when it's time for you to go. Derek goes to pay, leaving you alone with Santa again. "We have some more in the elf cottage, You gonna come get one? Gotta earn it first.." His gloved finger traces your arm. "C'mon, ditch the wanker."

The elf cottage is a sparse room for the Santa's Wonderland employees to take their breaks, and right now it's filled with the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh, your moans muffled by the fluffy red hat he put there to quiet you as he bends you over the folding table and rams his holly jolly dick into your stretched needy cunt.

"That's it, baby, fuckin' take it. Let Santa stuff your tight lil' stocking," he grunts.

You moan around the red fluff of his hastily discarded hat, throat burning with all your pent-up screams. Christ, you've never had anyone so disgusting, so eager, so perfect to satisfy this itch that you've been unable to scratch yourself.

And lord, his cock is the most filling thing you'll ever have. You already know he's going to leave you gaping for the next few days.

He watches the ripples of your ass as you throw it back on him, taking his entire fucking shaft so that with each thrust his balls thwack against your inner thighs. "Tight and wet.. lil' bitch in heat, ain't ya?" he teases, circling his hips so you feel him against every square inch of your aching snatch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, finally spitting out the stupid hat.

"Fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa," you chant in broken moans, pushing your hips back, demanding it hard and fast, which he gives even as you come, clamping down all around him in a vise grip.

"Jesus," he growls, pulling out and kneeling behind you. He purses his lips to your dripping cunt, wiggling his tongue against your folds before licking a wide stripe upwards, teasing your asshole with his tongue. You practically shove your ass against his face, his gloved hands spreading your cheeks to get better access.

Grabbing a candy cane from a basket on the table you unwrap it with your teeth and hand it to him. It's thick and hard, and Santa knows just what to do with it. Feasting on both your holes, he takes the candy cane and watches it disappear into your glistening pussy. Hearing your gasp encourages him to keep going, fucking you as his tongue keeps rimming your ass, delving into tease you.

There's a knocking at the makeshift cottage door, then a moment of silence and a "God damn it, Joel, not again!" from the other side. "Fucker's always doing something," the person, most likely one of the elves at the cash register, mumbles and walks off.

He's back inside you, sliding the candy cane between your lips, moving it in and out just as he moves in and out, keeping you spread open so he fill you with every inch. "Babygirl likes havin' somethin' to suck on, don't she?" he mutters, pumping steadily into you. "Gotta be a good girl and tell me where ya want it."

"Inside me," you beg, and he moves double time, hands on your shoulders as he ruts up against you, slamming every inch until you cry out again, knees buckling as you come hard and Santa Joel follows soon after, his jizz painting your insides in warm sticky ropes.

"Lick me clean, baby," he murmurs, and you immediately go to your knees, taking him deep into your mouth, your jaw aching as the tip of him hits the back of your throat. When you gag he keeps you there, your mouth filling with saliva until it spills out from your lips, mixed with his cum. You bob your head on his length, eyes watering as you look up at him, your cunt still throbbing as you start to leak him on the floor.

"Fuuuuck yes," he growls, hand on your head, teeth sinking into his lower lip as you suck him off, and it's a Christmas miracle he's hard again, and he's about to come. He holds your head still and facefucks you, your hands cupping his ass to stop him from going too shallow-- you need to be deepthroated for once in your life.

Santa Joel lets out another curse as he uses you to come, spurting his Christmas magic down your throat. "There's a good girl. Babygirl's thirsty for what Santa's got, huh?" he teases as you greedily swallow every bitter, salty drop.

Clothes are straightened before you leave the little elf cottage, but the look of satisfaction is plain on your face as you suck on the candy cane that you'd been fucked with only moments before. Santa Joel puts his hat back on his head and shuffles over to the helper elves. "I'm goin' out for another smoke break," he tells them.

The head elf puts her hands on her hips. "Joel, you're not allowed to take ten smoke breaks an hour!" But by then he's already on the way out, both middle fingers in the air to salute her.

Derek joins you, looking puzzled as he studies the holiday photo -- there's something off about the face you're making in it. "Did Santa give you that candy cane?"

Grinning, you slurp up the sweet peppermint that still has traces of your own flavor on it. "And then some."

dividers by @saradika 👑

Tagging those who showed interest: @clawdee @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @myownwholewildworld

@penascigarette @hoelaris

[neptxn3]

Astrology Observations II

｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other natal placements involved

doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue 

♅ Virgos tend to represent the trad wife far more than people assume taurus does, and that’s because Virgos ability to uphold their life (at least on the outside) tend to attract men who want a wife that can keep them on track

Some Virgo women tend to also attract gay men unfortunately 😭, again I think Virgos just seem like the perfect trad Wife and it will attract closeted men like flies. This isn’t to say all your partners will be closeted but the ones who are overly aggressive on your role in the relationship might be.

♅ Gemini moon children develop QUICKLY. These are usually the kids who weird you out with their extensive knowledge and self awareness that seemingly comes out of nowhere. The mercury influence allows them to digest many topics which in turn has Gemini moon children mentally developing at a faster pace than their peers

I’ve also observed Gemini moons are those annoying kids in your class that are a lot smarter and a bit condescending to others intelligence, not because that’s just the way they are, but their mercurial moon needs constant stimulation, and with a combination of their rapid growth you’ll see them climbing academic ranks which in turn can make them dislike school if they are not progressing at a speed they like. 

♅ Scorpio moons have a tendency to see the worst in every situation/person which can be a nasty habit, but this isn’t out of judgment, rather they don’t like to give people the benefit of the doubt. They don’t like to be screwed over and their best bet is to think of the worst scenario possible. 

♅ Aquarius Venus who are flaky in relationships and constantly cheat will eventually have karma handed back to them, usually in the form of being in their mid 40’s still single.

Aquarius Venus flaky reputation does stem from the fact that it is a Saturn influenced placement, as well as being fixed. It’s not that they hate any type of restriction to their freedom but rather to what extent you restrict them to. They can and will jump quickly into relationships but if they see any glimpse of possessive or controlling attributes they will leave. Again because it’s fixed and Saturn influenced Aquarius Venus knows once it settles down that’s it, they’re not going anywhere, that’s why they’re so scattered to find the right person who fits their criteria. 

♅ Moon/Sun harshly aspecting Neptune is the embodiment of “I hate my Mom/Dad, but I love her/him too”. Neptune harshly aspecting these planets can cause a huge wall of misunderstanding between parent and child, but Neptune blurs the lines so deep that the individual sees them “through rose colored glasses” and if incapable of harboring hate. I would even say there could be nights where these people will look back and remember their past relationships (Neptune = Dreams)

♅ 10h placements can sometimes struggle maintaining relationships due to the very contradicting nature of the Midheaven and ascendant. Usually people will perceive them to be very different from who they actually are.

This is also why they struggle with their self esteem (the natural square to the ascendant). Sometimes they feel like they need to keep up an image to satisfy others and that isn’t someone who they truly are 🥲

In synastry this also points to partners trying to change who they are/make choices for them because they think it’s “for the best” or “what’s good for them”. 

♅ Every Virgo rising I’ve met always gives me a small lesson on why astrology isn’t real but follow up with a “but can you read my chart I want to see if it’s true 👀”. I truly believe it’s the 12h Leo which makes them secretly a little self centered (hence the interest for things like astrology to attempt and figure themselves out) but the mercurial ascendant will always make them skeptical 😭

♅ Saturn conjunct Jupiter natives is a dangerous fire sometimes. I’ve noticed if they haven’t learned to balance this aspect in their chart, the people around them can suffer their warm and cold attitude. It’s almost as if one second you could be hysterically laughing in class together, and the next second they immediately stop and ask you to be serious and finish your work. WHERE DID THE VIBE GOOO?? The key here is moderation in whichever sign/house this is in

♅ Whoever said Neptune in hard aspect to Venus needs to practice saying positive affirmations (especially to Venus related topics) to themselves in the mirror was SO correct. Neptune indeed does reflect lies to you and reaffirming yourself in the mirror breaks that spell. I don’t think I’ve felt so beautiful since I started doing this. 

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3

⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card

— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.

on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now

— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)

“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.

“When am I ever not?” 

Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 

(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 

“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 

“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 

“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 

“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 

However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 

“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”

Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 

Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 

Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 

At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 

He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 

“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 

Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!

You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 

Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 

“No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 

“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 

Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.

But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 

“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.

You drink another mimosa. 

After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…

Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 

“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 

“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 

“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 

This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 

“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 

“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 

“Did you need a ride?” 

Shitty luck, indeed. 

The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.

“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 

“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 

You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 

“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 

“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 

At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.

As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 

He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 

He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.

“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 

“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 

So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 

“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 

“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 

“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 

“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 

No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 

So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?

“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 

Neither of you say anything else during the drive.

[musaslullaby]

The first race

grid x fem reader

p1 p2 p3 p4

Summary: It’s your first Formula 1 race, but it doesn’t seem like you’re nervous.

Face: Bianca Bustamante and other

Warning: Most of the grid has a small weakness for you. It's a series

Masterlist

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Yn.official

Description: Ready for my first race? But first, breakfast with @.yourcousin.

liked by Landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 293932892

user90: How do you manage to look so calm?

F1_: We are more nervous than she is.

Fonefever: You guys are joking, but how is she always so beautiful???

Ynlife: It's so cute that she has breakfast with her cousin before a race.

Landonorris: Hey, invite me next time, maybe we could make it a habit. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Sorry, but these are girls-only mornings.

danielricciardo: You shouldn’t eat those things before a race, trust me, dad knows best.

georgerussell63: Yeah, he knows something about that.

YnandLando: Guys, if Yn is driving in the third picture, who took the photo?

Loverace: Maybe her cousin???

Vroom: Or what if someone came to pick her up???

carlossainz55: If you like pancakes, you should come to my place. I could cook them just for you.

❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: Since when are you so romantic and sweet, Carlos?

carlossainz55: I’ve always been, you just didn’t know.

Yn.official: I gladly accept your offer, Carlito.

danielricciardo: Yn, remember what I taught you? Never go to a stranger’s house and especially don’t accept sweets from them.

f1gossip: Honestly, if Carlos were offering me sweets, I’d fly to him.

Carlss55: Guys????

Yn.official

Description: This is the price to pay when your cousin is a huge Ferrari fan (Maybe I am too 🤫).

Liked by Landonorris, oscarpiastri, and other 293932892.

yourcousin: I didn’t force you to do any of this.

Yn.official: It won’t take me long to revoke your VIP pass.

yourcousin: Okay, sorry (see you after the race). ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Bye-bye love.

user33: Haas is going to be mad.

love4: I can only imagine their faces when they see this post.

Ynlife: Let’s hope you don’t get fired, Yn.

C+Y: Charles and Yn would make a cute couple.

charles_leclerc: If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Not everyone is that bold.

Landonorris: It’s probably better to kiss cardboard than you.

lewishamilton: Mind if I also get you some Mercedes teddy bears?

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Oh my gosh yes, thanks, it’ll be the sign of our friendship.

georgerussell63: Come take a tour of the Mercedes garage.

❤️ Like to author

kimiantonelli: Yn, if you need anything, you know where to find me. ❤️ Like to author

Olliebearman: Umm… let me remind you she’s my teammate.

danielricciardo: I’ll knock you all off the track today.

Yn.official

Description: Ollie is asleep, and dad said no more phone use 😒.

Liked by Landonorris, oscarpiastri, and other 293932892.

F1lover: What a beautiful family!!!

❤️ Like to author

Ollie_: Maybe Daniel will become the father-in-law of Ollie.

Bear: Ollie is thinking about how to win Yn over.

maxverstappen1: It’ll be tough, my friend.

georgerussell63: Oliver, the warm-up? You’re not allowed to stop.

Olliebearman: Yn, you traitor.

Yn.official: Oops, it was a pleasure.

danielricciardo: Get off the phone and go for a run too.

Ynlife: Yn got scolded by dad. ❤️ Like to author

One: I’m sure now Yn’s gallery is full of pictures of Daniel.

Landonorris: It won’t be a pleasant sight.

oscarpiastri: I agree.

haasf1team: After the last post, you now owe us at least some points.

user45: Trouble for Yn.

charles_leclerc: If I’m in the right mood, I’ll let you pass, Yn. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: What a gentleman.

georgerussell63

Description: Our girl finally came!!!!!

Liked by Landonorris, oscarpiastri, and other 293932892.

carlossainz55: Cabron, hands off.

danielricciardo: Remember, she’s my daughter.

Formual10_: No guys, I can’t handle this, they’re so cute.

Landonorris: Come to me too, Yn.

oscarpiastri: Can I offer you some tea? To cool you down, maybe you’re hot.

Yn.official: Thank you, Oscar, for your concern.

user6: George is so happy in that hug.

flove: But also, look at her smile.

mErcedes: Kimi, on the other hand, looks shyer.

Lifef1: She would make a beautiful couple with any of them.

Lan: Imagine Yn’s children with the different drivers.

Vroom: Masterpieces.

Race: I’m already ready for the wedding.

Landonorris

Description: Umm… I had to go retrieve Yn who got lost in the paddock.

Liked by: Landonorris, oscarpiastri, and other 293932892.

user12: How many outfit changes does this girl make?

georgerussell63: She’s a model, she has style, just like me.

maxverstappen1: Are you sure you’re stylish?

mclaren: You two would make a great team.

❤️ Like to author

f1race: Even McLaren recognizes their chemistry. ❤️ Like to author

op81: Oh my gosh, after Charles, now Lando too???

Charlesfan: Yn, you owe us some explanations—what’s going on between you and Charles?

Vroom: I think they’re just friends.

4ln: Yn is driving all the guys on the grid crazy!

Yn.official

Description: 10th place and Charles Leclerc won, I couldn’t be happier. Obviously aiming for the podium.

Liked by Landonorris, oscarpiastri, and other 293932892.

charles_leclerc: You brought me good luck.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: You didn’t keep your promise. You didn’t let me pass.

charles_leclerc: I'm sorry moun ange ❤️ Like to author

user32: This nickname is sooo cute

Yn.official: Thanks Charlie

Landonorris: For your first race, you did well.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Thanks, Landotwowin.

user43: Everyone’s proud of Yn.

Racelove: The track is her natural habitat.

georgerussell63: Sooner or later, you’ll overtake all of us.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: Watch out, Max—Yn might steal your World Champion title in the coming years. ❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: I’d be more than happy to hand it over to her. ❤️ Like to author

user45: Max being kind??? To Yn???

carlossainz55: The award for worst photo ever goes to Yn.

❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: Carlos, you know you always have to encourage the kids. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: ha ha ha is not that bad

f1love: Charles’ face in the last photo is super cute.

Charlesfan: Perfect for a meme, thanks, Yn.

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Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life

[strawberrystepmom]

ready to eat

pairing: Yami Sukehiro x F!Noble Reader

word count: 4.9k

contents: NSFW - minors and ageless blogs dni, I will hard block you. Takes place in canon universe, there is a slight age/experience difference insinuated between the pairing but reader is at least 25, reader has named magical ability (movement magic), so much banter, oral sex (f receiving and finishing and it's sexy)

cw: mentions of marriage and misogyny, virginity (reader is a virgin)

notes: brain rot has proven to be fatal so here you are. this is open ended and i would not consider it a oneshot bc i'd love to write more about these two. hope you enjoy! thank you for reading ♡ | crossposted to ao3, divider by @cafekitsune

you can find more about these two here, here, here and here 🖤

Nighttime is your time, a lesson you taught yourself independent of your instructors many years ago. 

Movement magic allows you the luxury of blending in with your scenery, rushing unseen toward a capital district that is on the opposite end of where your family has made their name. Nobody here would recognize you even if you were less discreet, cloak gathered around your face and obscuring any unidentifiable features, and the freedom is indescribable; better than every sunny day or freshly made tea dessert. 

You are free to be yourself. Unmarried, unattached, unimportant, it doesn’t matter. You stumble into the usual inn you make your domain until the sun rises, ready to watch the way people you have little in common with live. If anyone knew you’d get reprimanded, probably rightfully, though you have never quite understood the scandal that lies in being a well informed woman. Your mother was a gossip and isn’t that another way to become informed? 

It’s society's acceptable way, anyway.

You slink into the corner table, away from the crowd gathered nearer the bar, and slip your hood off of your face. No glances of recognition from anyone else, too engrossed in their own drinks and their own conversations, and you sink down against the back of the chair you’re sitting in. It’s nice to be anonymous, you decided months ago when you began doing this. You aren’t certain you want to continue being so inconspicuous when you remind yourself why you’ve been doing this to begin with - to gain even the slightest bit of the life experience that continues to elude you. To love and laugh and feel joy that you’ve been told only comes with marriage, something you are too apprehensive about committing to. 

It’s why you come namelessly into a district that does not belong to you or your kind. You hope that someone will find you interesting, a beaten path off their life’s track. Someone to laugh with or tell stories to. It’s all you’ve ever really wanted, a romantic to your core despite the decidedly unromantic life you lead. Caretaking, getting earfuls from your father about being a responsibility that the family no longer wants to have when taking your age and failed proposals into consideration. So lost in your own thoughts, you barely notice when a man slides into the chair next to you, glancing down at your hands and then at your face.

“You need to stop wearing whatever is making you smell like that.”

The interruption to your quiet evening makes you jump, no longer dissociating and now in the present. You recognize the man sitting next to you, a captain of a Magic Knights squad. Their faces are plastered all over the capital and you’re shocked that he stumbled into such a low brow establishment though getting a look at him up close convinces you that he may not be in the entirely wrong spot.

“Captain Sukehiro,” you offer politely, formal as ever. “I regret having to request clarification from a man as esteemed as yourself but what do you mean?”

The captain snorts, shaking his head in response to you as though your manners are piteous instead of a courtesy that should be extended to all. 

“Don’t call me that, Yami is fine.” He sniffs, stuffing a cigarette between his lips. “I’m talking about the shit you’re wearing that is filling every corner of this place. People don’t wear things that make them smell like bakeries around here.” 

Scrunching your nose, you lift your wrist to your nose for a sniff. He’s referencing the perfume you spritzed on after bathing and the way it sticks to you, the smell wafting around the table with every move you make. It hasn’t caught any eyes yet, thankfully, but he can see how this will end if you don’t correct your mistake now. 

“What are you doing around here anyway? I figured women of your, uh, breed or whatever stuck to their own districts.” 

Bristling slightly at his insinuation that you find yourself too good to hang out here, you square your shoulders and clear your throat. A low chuckle rumbles in Yami while he lights his cigarette, raising his brows and eagerly awaiting whatever argument you are clearly cooking up in that little head of yours. 

“I’ll have you know that I enjoy exploring parts of the city that I rarely see. I am out here thanks to my own curiosity.” Your eyes shift from Yami toward the rest of the tavern, a small smile on your face watching the patrons laugh amongst themselves. “I think it’s really wonderful that people are happy no matter how they were born into this world and I’m thankful to be able to experience this side of life too.”

The captain could spend all night laughing at your naivety if you’d let him but he doesn’t wanna let you dig any deeper of a hole than you’re already finding yourself in. You’re clearly a fully grown woman, even the doll-like roundness of your eyes and cheeks can’t convince him you’re under 25 judging from the way you carry yourself. You aren’t the first noble girl he has ever seen sneak off in an attempt to find herself yet it strikes him as hilarious you clearly believe it.

“So you aren’t like the other nobles? You see people as people?” The brusque individual takes a long drink from the mug in his hand, Adam’s apple bobbing while he swallows, your eyes fixed on the sheer size of his neck and throat. “What do you want? A prize?”

Even the enticing muscles of his body (how can one person have so many muscles bulging off of them anyway?) cannot distract enough to forget that he’s insulting you. You place your hands in your lap and fiddle with the edge of the cloak that covers the simple nightgown you are wearing, covering it enough that no one is suspicious about why you’re wearing nightclothes in the first place. 

“No, I’m simply telling you what I’m doing here because you asked.”

Sipping from his mug, the man glances you up and down. He swallows and squares his shoulders.

“Okay? That still doesn’t tell me what you’re actually doing here, you’re only talking about feelings and shit.” Another sip and he places his ale down. “So what are you doing here? Isn’t it a little late for your type to be out with the rest of us?”

He considers you for a moment. Not bad looking. Pretty, even. Not plain in the way some overly manicured noble women can come across and you clearly aren’t using magic to enhance anything about you or else he’d notice. He’s a pro at sniffing out transformation magic in women having seen so many who have taught themselves to dabble in the arts to subtly tweak their appearances. You sigh and he finds it impressively naive to do so, your shoulders pinching in while you exhale sharply out of your nose. 

“I’m looking for someone to help me.” Now this is interesting. He raises a brow, glancing you up and down. You lean toward him, creating a veil of intimacy in a crowded tavern, elbows resting on the table rudely. “I, um, I fear I’ll be woefully unprepared for my marriage bed once the time arrives and I want to avoid embarrassment. I’m already too old to be considered marriageable to most and my heart could not take physical rejection from my husband as well.”

“You’re a virgin and feel weird about it and now you’re makin’ it my problem.”

Gasping, your eyes widen and you shake your head rapidly. Yami smirks when he senses how quickly your heart is pounding beneath those layers of fabrics most in this place could only ever dream of seeing much less feel against their skin, curious enough that he won’t just tell you to get lost at this point. 

“Please do not repeat my predicament so loudly, Captain Sukehiro.” You whisper hiss, fighting the urge to kick him beneath the table as you do the rest of your fathers’ unruly issue you are the eldest of. “It’s not something I’m terribly proud of.”

The captain scoffs, humming to himself and adjusting his posture so that he’s leaning toward you instead of on the back of his chair, cigarette dangling from his fingers. You’ve captured his attention, at least for now, and he’ll give you all of it that you can handle. Pursing his lips, he glances around the bar for a split second before focusing on you, gray eyes locked on your pouting mouth.

“Then why is it your situation in the first place? Thought you nobles were too proud for your own good.” He flicks the lighter in his pocket. “And don’t call me that. Yami is fine.”

You should find it very rude that you are being asked so many questions and being made to suit so many demands made by a lesser born to begin with but the curiosity feels like deeply personalized attention, causing you to bloom in response. Hunched shoulders stretch out, the graceful posture you’ve spent what would amount to months of your life if you stretched the hours out perfecting appearing. No one at home is this curious about you outside of when you will no longer be around to tend the younger children your father continues to spawn and it feels different to be the center of a man’s attention. 

Not a weak, defanged little noble whose only function is to act as an additional limb for his father. A man with rough hands and battle scars and overgrown hair down his neck. 

“I haven’t felt a spark with any of the men I’ve been introduced to. They’re lovely individuals with proud lineage but it has always felt so…” you search around the room, lifting your hand to your mouth to idly nip at the cuticle around your thumbnail. “Forced. I don’t want to be with them and they do not want to be with me. Four men and none of them made me feel like I could spend the rest of my life with them.”

Once again, Yami chuckles at your predicament. Your cheeks heat in response, ears tingling and burning as that familiar feeling of being mocked encourages you to retreat inward. The awareness that you do not have to put up with this kind of treatment from a man beneath your station 

“Sounds like you’re hard to impress, kid.” A plume of smoke is blown over your head, the cigarette he was holding now dangling from his lips while he examines you with narrowed eyes. “Little darling won’t settle for less than a fairytale.”

Retreating further into yourself, you move your hands from your lap to fold your arms over your chest.

“I’m no child, obviously.” 

Your retort is as petulant as your posture and the man smirks, the corner of his mouth jumping, tenting his fingers in front of him and leaning toward you. Despite himself, he likes you. Your willingness to shit here and just shoot the shit with him has impressed him but not enough to let you off easy. 

“You’re here beggin’ for attention like one so I dunno about all that.”

Scoffing, you shift in your chair but make no effort to get up. You won’t be picked off by him that easily. 

“You know nothing about me, sir.” You raise your brows and shift your head to emphasize your point, arms still folded. A grown woman behaving like a little brat shouldn’t draw a man like this in yet he considers himself intrigued, stamping out the nearly depleted butt of his cigarette on the edge table in front of him. 

“Can’t argue with that. Keep talking.” 

He leans back in his chair and sizes you up, boots stacked on top of each other where his ankles are crossed and his long legs are extended out in front of him. It’s one thing to be keeping him here against his will because you won’t stop talking, it’s another when he is a willing audience. Your mouth runs dry and you gradually unfold your arms, placing them above your knee so you can subtly rid your clammy palms of the prickling sweat across them.

“I want to experience the things that a husband and wife are to experience together though I do not have anyone to enjoy them with.” Even the way nobles describe sex is stuffy and uncomfortable, Yami realizes, brows raising slightly. He lets you continue speaking before butting in, letting his arms dangle from the sides of the chair. “Perhaps it’s wrong of me to believe it will change my luck but I won’t change my mind. I have to know how to…perform.”

Perform is such an interesting choice of word. All of the sex the captain has ever had has been far less of a performance and more of a two person dance, locked in repetitive motions and tangled up as one form. He isn’t much for the sappy, intimate shit you’re clearly insinuating you’d like though he feels like he could help you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he starts, leaning back toward you and closing the distance to once again grant you some semblance of privacy. “I can show you how a man should treat a woman but I can’t promise you it’s how a husband will treat his wife, you understand?”

Your eyes widen and you nod once, picking up on his meaning immediately. Impressed by your sharp wit he smiles although it’s nearly as unfriendly as the ones exchanged at court and only slightly less smug. Leaning in toward him, your brows knit together, and you bunch your skirt up in your fists.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for, you know…” you trail off, frowning slightly. He pretends like he doesn’t understand what you mean, shaking his head and staring vacantly at your mouth. “I don’t know if I’m ready for you to take me.”

Another snort from him and your face heats like a wildfire. The two of you remained locked in this strange posture, whispering but not quite, discussing the terms of whatever is occurring here. Blood rushes from your face to your chest to your stomach, a familiar tense feeling between your legs making you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

“The only one who would be doing any taking in that scenario is me and you don’t have to worry about that tonight.” He tips his mug and finishes off the last droplets of his ale, sliding the empty vessel across the table top where it stops just short of you. 

“What if we never see each other again after tonight?” That sappy shit he was right to assume you wanted has surfaced earlier than he expected. He shrugs flippantly, arching a brow. “Then we never see each other tonight but at least you can say you know how it feels when a man takes care of you.”

Inhaling loudly, you weigh your options. 

You can always get up and go home, turn tail and run to where you will always be viewed as something akin to a decorative sconce on the wall instead of a human being. Your opinion matters not, you’re a glorified caretaker for your younger siblings, some of who are your fathers rightful heirs thanks to the boyhood the Gods so mercifully granted them. You can retreat and continue wasting away waiting for a man who thrills you enough that you can ever see him as someone deserving of being your equal. 

Or, you can consider Yami’s offer. He’s rough around the edges and speaks with no formality or regard and you like it. At least you think you do. He doesn’t care who you are any more than the others around you do yet he makes you feel the most seen anyone ever has. He’s interested in your words, your ideas, and even your pleasure - a realization that makes the knot in your stomach tighten further.

“Okay.” You concede. “I think that I’d like that.”

The man rises from his seat, smirking, tossing some coins down on the table in front of him for the drink. 

“I know you will,” he finishes, words dripping with honesty but not arrogance. 

He begins to head toward the stairs that will lead the two of you upstairs and your breath catches when he looks over his shoulder and raises his brows, signaling with a wave that you should follow him. You toss a few more coins on the table in front of you, uncertain of how much a room in an establishment like this would cost to begin with, and rush to follow him with your cloak pulled tightly against your body.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

This room is nothing like your quarters at home where everything around you gleams in gold and marble and silk. It may be decidedly less impressive though it’s twice as cozy if you’re honest. 

The bed is barely large enough for two and there’s a well loved desk pushed against the wall, magical light flickering from the wall. Shutting the door unceremoniously, you swallow and feel the captain at your back, a large palm covering the entirety of the space between your shoulder blades. You don’t recall him seeming so imposing downstairs, glancing upward to meet his eyes. He can tell you are inexperienced solely by how skittish you’ve become beneath his fingertips, an intriguing shift from who you were sitting opposite him.

Boldly asking a man to pleasure you has told him everything about the person you are beneath the skirts and the trappings of society. If he waits long enough he knows that hungry girl will once again show her face to him and while he isn’t particularly patient, he believes it would be worth his while to wait. 

“Go sit on the edge of the bed.” He instructs right above your ear and gently shoves you toward where he’s commanded you be. 

You follow directions and sit, legs dangling off of the edge, unfastening your cloak and letting it rest on the bed. The knot in your belly remains tight, keeping you on edge with all of your movements while your walls throb weakly, arousal and curiosity bearing down on you with similar weight. Sukehiro towers over you, slowly unfastening his belt and cloak, leaving the leather goods and his katana on the desk. 

“I’m going to lick your pussy. Do you know what that means?”

Cheeks warming, once again surprised by his lack of decency, you nod once. You have read about this particular act more than once and have also heard about it secondhand from some of the married women you call friends although their reviews have been mixed. Books have always made it seem far more interesting, an exchange in the same way a kiss is between a man and the paradise between a woman’s legs. 

“Good, at least I won’t have to explain all the technicalities.” He approaches you slowly and squats down, now face level with your middle. You glance down at him and wonder if you should touch him, if he’d like it, if he’d want you to. “Lift your hips.” The next command gives you reprieve from overthinking and you do as asked, raising them enough that he can pull your nightgown from beneath your thighs, spreading them to fit between.

“If you don’t like something, speak up.” He glances up at you, holding your nightgown halfway over his face. “If you do like something, speak up and I’ll keep goin’.”

The linen of your nightgown stretches and tents in the shape of Yami’s head and shoulders when he pulls it over himself, too big to be fully covered by the fabric. His back is curled into a C shape and the muscles ripple while he positions you, hands that you can feel but cannot see gripping the outside of your soft thighs to keep you from deciding at the last minute you are feeling shy. 

It’s too late for you to fall back on the shy act now, your panties dangling off of one of your ankles. Even if you attempted, you know the man currently fixated on spreading you open with his fingers would surface from beneath your skirt and laugh at you. Your heart simply could not take the open derision and ridicule, already feeling overextended thanks to this evening’s excitement.

“Alright, you’re about to feel something different,” he warns kindly, puffs of his breath fanning out against the slickened skin of your labia. The low rumble of his voice sends another rush of wetness seeping out of your cunt, excitement mixing with terror while you await the pleasure you were promised. 

Your hips shift impatiently on the edge of the dingy inn bed, legs on either side of his still dressed torso. His tank top is untucked from his pants and he no longer wears his belt, discarding the unnecessary while remaining firmly in control of the situation. There isn’t much that makes his mouth water but the sight of warm and just for him pussy is doing just that, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

His thumbs massage the outside of your thighs, keeping you as relaxed as possible, and he leans in to kiss the temptation he can no longer deny himself. A simple smack, loud enough that you can both hear it, yet the moan that escapes you is positively sinful. High pitched and breathy and immediately obscured, clapping your palm over your mouth to keep yourself quiet. 

“Nope,” he simply responds from beneath your nightgown, hand reaching up to remove yours from over your mouth. “What’d I tell you? Half’a the fun is hearing how much you like it.”

One of the thumbs that was rubbing circles into your thigh now does the same on the back of your hand, calloused digit occasionally catching over the surface of your smooth skin. It’s no shock that your hands are soft like your body and your hair and your eyes, it’s what your life was meant to be like the minute you assumed the role of it.  Soft and easy, no roughness to throw you off track.

Yami chuckles and lets his tongue feel you this time, dragging the wet muscle through your folds, rewarded with another of those breathy moans. You do not rush to cover this one, tilting your head backward and letting your eyes flutter shut to focus on the sensation of another lick. He takes his time to get to know you slowly, brushing the flat of it over your hole and dragging the arousal he receives as a reward upward toward your clit.

He doesn’t release his skills on your sensitive bud so quickly but a simple brush of the side of his tongue against it is enough to make you squeal, shoulders rounding in momentarily. Repeating the motion, you squeal again and arch your back, thrusting your hips forward into his face and dragging every bit of you he can see across his mouth.

“W-what are you doing to me, Yami?” You ask breathlessly, elbows propping you up on the bed and keeping you grounded. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

Your head swims with unfamiliar pressure, sparking a line from your brain to between your legs, all connected and you fight the urge to slump back onto the bed, too curious about the way that the light linen covering the man between your legs shrouds him. 

“Eating, obviously,” he mumbles against your body, tongue lapping against your clit. Your body reacts to each touch, thighs tensing on either side of his face, hips slowly bucking in pursuit of the feeling again and again. Your back arches and your moans are staccato babbles, elbows finally failing to hold you up when he gives your clit full attention.. “Oh my, wh–,” your back arches off of the bed before you can finish your thought, another rough lick to your throbbing clit followed by the warmth of his mouth while he sucks it between his lips, flicking the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. 

There is no denying that you may be prissy and perfectly pampered but he was clearly correct in his assumption about you being more than meets the eye. The way your body responds naturally to his ministrations, hips grinding and toes curling and lips keening, tells him every little secret you’re too demure to spill. You want to have sex for enjoyment, to chase your own pleasure and have your own fun. 

He’ll never fault someone for that although he believes he can get you to admit it’s the truth. Maybe not tonight but eventually he’ll convince you to drop the “good wife” act. If he weren’t enjoying himself so much he’d grumble about considering a future where the two of you will meet up for this again, too lost in his own enjoyment of your pretty noises to realize how unreasonable this was to begin with.

“Please keep going,” you beg, a tearless sob thickening your voice. 

Yami doesn’t look up, well aware of what he is capable of, but he keeps his hand over yours and continues rubbing gentle circles into it. You flip your hand and face your palm upward, loosely tangling your fingers with his, your hips now dragging across his lips wildly. It’s messy and you are dripping like a peak season fruit, drenching his chin and sending little droplets down onto his tank top and chest. Moans increase in pitch when his tongue dips inside of you, lapping at your sweetness and drinking it down with satisfied grunts, though he can tell you’re close solely by how you ride his face alone.

You lack the words to describe how you feel, not that you are a stranger to self pleasure, but it’s different when someone else is showing you the maximum of how you can feel. Every inch of you buzzes with a pleasant awareness, nerve endings sparking like celebratory fireworks, and you lift yourself up with your elbows to glance down at the man making you feel more than you ever thought possible, your nightgown no longer around his head. You were so lost you didn’t even realize he shifted to holding your nightgown up above your belly button with the hand you aren’t keeping occupied, those astute eyes appreciatively watching your chest heave and face twist.

“Yami, I think,” you start and he chuckles, sucking your clit between his lips again, sending you over the edge and effectively making sure you know how exactly it feels when someone else makes you cum. 

Dots of light spark in the corners of your vision and you slump down onto the bed, too spent from the strength of your orgasm to remain upright. The perpetrator of your current state untangles your fingers from his wordlessly and he rises to standing, leaning over your exhausted body and propping himself up with his forearm.

“Good as you thought it would be?” 

Giggling, you nod. It’s all you can think to do, truly left wordless and thoughtless, grateful that what you read on the pages of the books you hide amongst your more chaste picks were somewhat accurate to how the experience feels. There has been no insinuation that he expects reciprocation so you don’t bring it up, quietly glancing up at him and noticing that the distance between your face and his decreases every few seconds.

“Now taste.” 

He closes the little distance left, tongue pressing against the seam of your lips. You grant him entrance and whimper when your mouth fills with the taste of his tongue, a mixture of acrid tobacco and ale and something you could only recognize as yourself. 

“Pretty good, right?” All you can do is nod dumbly, still splayed awkwardly across the bed. Should you leave? Should you stay? Is that pesky reciprocation going to come into the conversation now? Yami glances down at you with something you’d almost mistake for warmth in his cool irises, rolling onto his back beside you and folding his arms over his chest. “Are you going to head home now or what?” 

You shake your head, letting your flipped up skirt rest against your belly, the air of the room cooling your heated skin. “No but I’m not going to expect you to stay if you have other business to attend to. I will stay the night and leave before sunrise.”

It’s what’s polite. You did pay for an entire night, after all, and your raising will not allow you to be rude. Pushy and precocious at times but never outright disrespectful. The man next to you sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, turning his face to look at you. 

Maybe you are as pretty as he originally thought. It could be all the blood rushing from his head to his dick, a problem he is attempting to solve mentally by envisioning anything but the satisfying contractions of your cunt while it cums for him, but you glow even in this low light. 

“Only thing I have to do is go downstairs and drink and then I’ll just end up running my mouth and losing money.” 

You giggle at his honesty, turning your face to look at him. The gruffness only adds to his aura, as unrefined as a man can be, yet you really do like it. Even if the two of you sit here in silence for the rest of the night, there’s much you feel you can learn by simply gazing at him, a quiet battle of wills unfolding between the two of you like the mist that fills the city on a summer morning. 

Permeating, inescapable, potentially trouble.

[starless-nightz]

i sent this request to someone else about a year and a half ago and i went back to look at it but they never made it into a fic so i thought it’d ask you instead while also making some small changes to my old request

Eloise bridgerton x fem!royalty!reader where two women can get married as long as one of them is rich enough to support the both of them

reader has to soon take over the throne because she is an only child but she has to first get married so she goes to London to find a wife or a husband and Eloise accidentally makes reader laugh (like that one scene w queen charlotte) which makes Eloise catch readers eye and she tries to court Eloise but Eloise being herself decides to be stubborn and act as if she has no feelings for the reader

readers mother strictly reminds her that she has little time left to find a match which forces reader to move on and try to find someone else who’s more willing to marry

of course Eloise gets jealous which makes her realize her mistake and it end’s with Eloise confessing right before the day reader is about to propose to another girl saying something along the lines of “dont marry her”

happy ending pleaseeee

Eloise being courted by fem! royalty! reader

note -> I absolutely love this idea! I made this into HCs and a scenario since I dont have any idea how to make it into a fic, sorry :[

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff/angst, smitten reader, jealousy.

You didnt want to get married, but you had to, as you knew your father was at the brink of death and you would soon need to ascend the throne, forcing you to marry

You disliked the girls this season, they only liked you for your power and money, you wanted someone who would genuienly love you

The moment your eyes layed on Eloise Bridgerton you knew you were smitten, and the way she talks and jokes always make you laugh

You tried to court her, always sending her, her mother and her sisters flowers and gifts, dancing with her at balls, reading and talking about her favorite books, even becoming close friends with some of her brothers

But Eloise did not want you, or at least she acted like it, so your mother forced you to find someone else

The girl wasn't too bad, but she wasn't Eloise, and you knew you could never love her, even if you tried, but she was the best choice from the ton, so you asked her father for her hand, which he agreed

You didnt understand why Eloise was so upset that you were courting another, she didn't want you, after all, but she proved you wrong the day before you were going to propose

"You cannot marry her! I wouldnt allow it!" Eloise said as she grabbed your arm, her eyes filled with guilt and jealousy.

"Why not? I wanted you, Eloise, but you made it quite clear you did not want me, and I must marry if I were to ascend the throne." you said as you looked back at her, you loved her, but she did not love you, so you have to marry another.

You freed your arm from her grip and you turned away to leave, until you heard her say-

"But I want you! I was wrong, i was stuborn, I want you and I do not wish to see you marry another!" she said, a tear running down her cheek, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You turned back to her, losing your breath, she wanted you? All along she wanted you?

"Are you certian you want me?" you asked her and she nodded, looking back up at you.

"I have loved you ever since you started courting me, but I was too stuborn to admit it, i have only realised it when you started courting another, please, i cant see you marry another." her voice broke as she spoke, her eyes begging and pleading for you.

"I could never imagine choosing another over you, especially now that I know you return my undying love." you said as you bringed her closer, pulling her in a kiss which she gladly returned.

[tommydarlings]

fucktoy part 4 | f1 grid

pairing: dark!dom!mick schumacher ; dark!dom!toto wolff ; x sub!bimbo!reader

warnings: smut, dacryphilia, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, mentions of tracking somebody’s location, covering mouth???, pussy eating, hair pulling, breeding kink, spitting, gagging

w/c: 0.7k

summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

Thinking about how mick would keep an eye on you everywhere and every time and get unbelievably mad the seconds he notices you’re somewhere he didn’t allow you to be.

You were partying with your girl friends but forgot to tell mick — but that wasn’t really a problem for him since he tracks your phone and car anyway — which you didn’t know since you’re only his situationship.

He immediately got into his car and drove to the club you were at.

And as you saw him storming into the club with a not so happy facial expression, taking long and angry looking steps right towards you.

And here you were now, being mercilessly thrusted into against the one of the women’s bathroom stalls, mick behind you gripping your hair in a tight grip, his lips grazing your ear.

“You think you can just go out partying or shit like that without letting me know? You could have given me a call… or at least message me but no, you’re dumb little brain didn’t think about that, huh?“ you arched your back further as his thrust got harsher.

You shook your head, trying your best to find some excuse but you came up with nothing.

Mick chuckled, “can’t find any stupid excuse, huh?“ And you only gulped, rolling your eyes into the back of your head.

“Thought so,“ he mumbled before he almost lovingly kissed your wet temple, still mercilessly thrusting into you.

Suddenly, you heard two women entering the restroom, loudly chatting and laughing with each other and just when you were about to release a not so quiet scream of pleasure, mick swiftly covered your mouth with his hand, immediately shutting you up,

“Shh,“ he whispered into your ear from behind, his thrusts not stopping, “just scream into my hand but just so you know I won’t stop.“

Or how toto would literally think and talk about breeding you all the time just so you don’t even spare a glance at the other men in the paddock.

You were in his office, dress bunched up by his big, veiny hand as one of your legs was laying carelessly by its knee on his glass table.

Gasps and whines were constantly leaving your mouth as the older man ate your wet pussy out from behind, collecting all of your juice and spitting into your hole, his hands roughly spreading and squeezing your cheeks.

“O-Oh fuck! Oh god!“ you screamed through gritted teeth, the tip of his tongue rapidly running along your slit, occasionally entering you before sliding out again and spitting on it, being very messy and careless.

He removed one hand from your ass, running his long pointer and middle finger along your drenched cunt before entering you, his lips not biting and sucking on your cheeks, clearly to create prominent marks.

“Mhmm… who were you talking to earlier, meine kleine?“ my little one, toto asked in a raspy tone with a smirk, his two fingers making quick work of deeply entering you and slowly sliding out of you again, repeating that devious process over and over again.

You gulped, “I w-was only talking t-to Charles about-”

“You were talking to Charles, that’s right… and that’s exactly where the problem begins,” toto told you from behind, his fingers speeding up, forcing you to around them as you heard him spitting onto them, making you even wetter.

You whined in a high pitched tone, letting your head fall onto the expensive table half of your shaking figure was laying on.

Toto spoke up, “maybe I should breed you, make your pretty little body all round, hmm? What do you say, liebling?“ love.

You quickly shook your head, you were too young and the two of you weren’t even together, you were just casually hooking up to have some fun and release some pent up stress or anger.

His fingers left your clenching pussy, quickly putting them into his mouth and licking them clean, his eyes still focused on the back of your head, a frown on his face as he noticed how you swiftly shook your head.

Toto slowly stood up, “no? Why not? Then everybody would know that you’re mine and you’d be pregnant with my child! Wouldn’t that be just beautiful? That way I could easily show those immature, young boys that you’re completely off the market,“ he mumbled into your ear from behind before he entered you with his big cock, forcing you to take deep breaths as he slowly filled you up.

“Oh yeah, I’m gonna put a pretty mini version of the two of us into you now, you just relax and let me do it, alright?“

BONUS;

Or how Lewis would have the audacity to make you feel so embarrassingly small and dumb.

CONTINUE READING THE EXTENDED VERSION WITH THE L.H BONUS ON MY PATREON! <3 [1k]

[willowed-wisp]

könig as a dad (part three)[ könig ]

part one | part two

AGES 10 - 14:

- These are what he dreaded the most. Where kids think they’re smartasses and get addicted to video games and other sources…

- But he’s presently surprised when your two sons are very polite in supermarkets.

- They’re tall and more mature women ask for them to get things from the higher shelves- he was a proud dad that day.

- There’s definitely a rivalry between the boys but a friendly one.

- They walk your daughter home everyday that König is away

- I think at this stage, König asks for more of a strategic position which means he doesn’t go into the field.

- And you thought you’d never see that day, not complaining that he was at home. The most he was at work in the city was half a day, returning to your bed and trying to make another baby (you swear he still has baby fever)

- Friends of the boys don’t believe the age difference between you and your husband, because somehow König still has a slight baby face… he looked in his late twenties when you met him (he was about late thirties) and you were in your mid-twenties.

- Your daughter says to her dad, “I want what you and mumma have,”

- “And what’s that? Three little ones?” He tickled under her chin, he cherished that smile every day of his life.

- “No… how you look at each other… love…”

- He is NOT open to the idea of her getting a partner- whoever they turn out to be- he doesn’t want his little mouse to grow up.

- Your boys are on the rugby team and your girl does cross-country and long distance running

- All physical capability taken from König, unless you’ve done sports in the past- then you bicker over who’s responsible

- He definitely enrolls the boys in martial arts…

- Then your daughter begs him to go, she wipes the floor with her brothers.

- Teaches all of your kids carpentry, and your eldest absolutely gels with it. It’s like second nature to him.

AGE 15-19

- No boys in the house, that’s König’s rule, you stand by it in some respects especially when she gets older.

- However, “Wouldn’t you have her talk to you about people rather than going behind our backs?”

- He contemplates the idea, “She is my little mouse…”

- “Little mouse is becoming big mouse, König… don’t push her away by being papa mouse…”

- The next day on the way to her track and field training, she turns to you, “What did you say to dad? He’s been going on about little mice and ‘little mice don’t push away papa mice…”

- You’re confused to say the least, “But he also said that I can have people round the house- as long as my doors open,” That sounded strange and unlike your husband.

- “That’s good… did he say anything else?”

- “He’s been asking me names and addresses…”

- Ahhh…

- “Don’t give him last names or addresses, honey…” You looked at her, face dreaded with guilt. “You already told him, didn’t you?”

- You turn the car around after dropping her off. And find König staking out a 16 year old’s house, “Sweetheart… what are you doing here?”

- “Don’t play innocent with me… we’re going home. No more of… THIS…”

- He did stop, but still did background checks… he’s allowed to do those (his own logic)

- Your daughter only brought a girl home, they would study and bake with each other in the kitchen.

- “It’s nice she has a friend…” Your husband was so clueless.

- His eldest son raised an eyebrow, knowing the truth… “Talk to her, dad…”

- That night when it was just the family, your little girl came out to König. She was crying, terrified that he wouldn’t accept it- being a bit older than her friends’ dads.

- But all he did was bring her into a bear hug, like her brothers had when she came out to them. König really didn’t care what she identified as, as long as she was happy… he’d be happy.

- As for your sons, König doesn’t want either joining the military. Luckily for him, neither does.

- Your youngest wants to go into teaching, and your eldest wants to become an engineer- taking on his dad’s numerical intelligence.

- He was much more relaxed when it came to dating for the boys. You had the talks with them, much too awkward for König to do himself.

- Your youngest son would become a father at 19… fully supported by you two.

- Part of König is glad he has a grandchild while he’s under a certain age and can run around. Treats the grandkids like his own children.

- Maybe make them cry unintentionally but that wears off.

König is so proud of the family you and him founded on a whim after being together only a year after you met.

————

masterlist

[daycourtofficial]

Laborious anxieties

Eris x Rhysand’s Sister!reader

Summary: based on this request - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Author’s note: this is technically a follow-up to A Starfall in Autumn, but could be read as a standalone 🥰 I kinda tore through writing this. I got the request at 7:45 and finished writing at 9:30. Forgive any spelling errors, I have ✨sick brain✨

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, blood loss

The last two weeks of your pregnancy had been a time riddled with anxiety.

You were fine - it was Eris who was unable to stay calm. It felt like a stranger was consuming your mate’s body the way nervousness radiated off of him these days.

And the way he clung to you was very unlike him.

He stepped back from High Lord duties for at least a month, delegating responsibilities amongst his brothers and advisors. He receives a summary of the day’s activities during dinner, and except for a trade agreement his brother signed that was less than advantageous for Autumn, everything was running fine.

Which meant your mate could spend all of his time worrying about you, following you around. He’d gotten so absurd he began having his hounds check you for any abnormalities, doing a ‘daily check’ where they sniffed you to ensure you were okay.

The moment you had told Eris of your pregnancy, his joy was very quickly eclipsed by his very sudden interest in providing you with more security. You had been able to talk him down from the initial twelve guards he wanted trailing you at all times to two guards and at least two of the hounds.

“One hound will stay and defend me, the other one will find you,” you had argued. He relented, but as you got closer and closer to your due date, his attempts at renegotiation were increasing by the day.

You had now agreed to four guards and six hounds with you at all times, unless you were with him.

Between the massive bump on your belly that makes maneuvering around very difficult and the entourage you’d have to take, you opt more often than not to stay in your chambers for most of the day.

One of Autumn’s advisors had suggested the birth be a public spectacle, and Eris grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him out of the room, stating, “you’ll be allowed back in when you’ve recovered from your sudden onset stupidity.”

You were glad, because even laboring privately didn’t keep it from being quite the spectacle. Three high lords were to be in Autumn around the birth: your brother, Rhysand, and Eris’s brother, Lucien.

Lucien offered to be available to you in any way he can be, so you took him up on that offer and begged him to take your mate away for an hour or so every day.

So every day at an hour past noon, Lucien would retrieve Eris, and they would play some sporting game they invented when Lucien was a child. They tried explaining it to you, but it never made any sense to you, so you opted to just let them enjoy themselves.

Today, Eris was running through the halls of the Forest House, cursing himself for putting his chambers so deep inside. The house was more fortified the further in you went, with many foxholes that can take you throughout the court. Now it was just a pain to get back to his mate who was definitely not okay.

His fingers made quick work of ruining his hair, a light sweat coating his skin as he flung open the door, preparing for the worst.

Instead, he found his insufferable brother in law opposite you on the bed playing a card game.

“Hi Er,” you say, lighting up at the sight of him, but quickly going back to the cards in your hand, determination in your features.

Clover, the eldest hound and your personal favorite, currently had her head resting against your bump. Her eyes tracked the room, searching for any movement that could be perceived as a threat. Her tail wagged softly at Eris’s entrance, but she remained fixed, guarding your unborn babe.

“Hi Er,” Rhys offers, not glancing up from his cards, “did you run here or do you get winded from these elaborate halls?”

Eris straightens his vest, closing the door behind him as he walks further into the room. “Someone was sending some very distressed signals down the bond.”

He keeps his eyes on you as your face softens, “oops, I was so focused on our game, I didn’t mean to. It’s just not fair because he cheats!”

“I have done no such thing! How dare you accuse a high lord of such a crime?”

You stick your tongue out at him, which he immediately returns. Eris rolls his eyes, well aware of how being around your brother turns the two of you into children. He heads into your private chambers, heading towards the bathroom to bathe.

After bathing and putting on fresh clothes, Eris is about to head back to the two of you, when he hears your soft voice whisper through the door, “I miss mother.”

He’s sure you’re curled up into Rhysand, peering into the violet eyes you both inherited from her. He turns back into the chambers, allowing the two of you to share your grief. As he retreats he does hear, “but I’ll have Eris’s mother. She’s not, y’know, but she’s great. If I can’t have mother, she’s a great stand-in.”

He smiles to himself, finding the book on his bedside table, and settling into the couch, letting the two of you have your privacy.

-

Rhys travels between Autumn and Night every morning and every afternoon, keeping you company during the morning as you become more and more confined to your bedchambers.

You weren’t technically ordered for bedrest, but moving about was incredibly taxing for you, especially when trying to wrangle the large entourage Eris insisted on.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Rhysand happened to be with you when your water broke.

Eris was at court settling a dispute between his idiotic advisors that they insisted required his input when Rhysand’s claws tapped his mind. Upon allowing him entry, he hears Rhysand’s voice trickle in.

It’s time.

-

Your contractions began, slow and unhurried, the cramping abismal. The contractions came quicker and quicker, time between shortening until your nursemaid tells you to start pushing.

You cry out as you do so, an intense pain coming from your pelvis. They tell you to stop, as they check to ensure your dilated enough to continue.

They motion for you to continue, but the pain only gets worse.

“She’s tearing dramatically,” one of the nurses says.

“What does that mean?” Rhys asks, holding your hand.

“Her circulation’s poor, likely because of the bedrest. She’s losing a lot of blood from these tears.”

Eris felt the primal rage of the mating bond heating his blood. They were talking about his mate in such a sterile, clinical way. Eris bared his teeth at them, but they did not back down, they would not back down, even to the commanding presence of multiple high lords.

“I need the two of you to leave, now. I need to focus, and I can’t do that with two high lords breathing down my neck.”

“Everyone here has her best interest at heart - I promise you, high lords, we will do our best for her,” another nursemaid says.

Eris’s eyes are fixed on your pale face, drained of any color. He doesn’t feel Rhys’s arm wrap around him, dragging him out of the room, nor does he feel the wall Rhys presses him against, giving him something to support his weight.

He can’t let that be the last memory he has of your face.

Lucien is in the hall, and Rhys is updating him on how much blood you loss. “Can’t Feyre’s blood heal? Can she come help?”

Eris snaps his eyes up to Rhysand, whose eyes have a vaguely glossy look to them.

“Please, Rhys.”

Eris did not beg. He accepted the hands he was dealt. He did not plead with his father, as the whip would strike his back. He did not plead with the Mother when he had to chase Lucien into Spring. He did not plead with the Cauldron or the stars asking for help.

But he would ask Rhysand.

“She’s on her way, she just has to get someone to care for Nyx.”

“Hel, she can bring Nyx and I can care for him,” Eris offered, reaching out to hold tightly onto that golden string connecting the two of you.

Rhys’s eyebrows raise, but Lucien cuts in, “brother, you are in no state to watch over a young child.”

“Since when have you had any experience with young children?”

Lucien balks, “the children of Spring were quite fond of me.”

Eris smirks, “pity the children of the court you preside over do not feel the same.”

Lucien is about to bite back when Rhys comes back to them.

“Okay, she’ll be here any minute now.”

Eris hated to do it, tampering with the wards of the Forest House to allow any member of your family entry in the past month.

Never has he been so grateful he did something he so staunchly opposed when Feyre appeared in front of them, a cooing Nyx in her arms that she quickly hands off to Lucien. She briefly lets her hand touch Rhys’s shoulder as she nods to Eris before running into the room.

Lucien holds Nyx, the young toddler providing amusement to the three high lords.

“Do you have a name?” Rhys asks, trying to distract Eris from the nervous meltdown he understood all too well.

“For a girl, we like Hestia Seline.”

Rhys’s eyes snap up, but Eris continues.

“Some ancient humans believed in multiple gods, one of which was the goddess of the hearth, Hestia. And Seline for..”

He gestures towards Rhys, letting his sentence finish there.

“You would allow a Vanserra to be named after my mother?”

Eris nods, “if she insisted,” a finger was pointed to the door you lay behind, in what condition Eris had no idea, “I’d let her name a Vanserra ‘Rhys Azriel Vanserra.”

Rhys grins, “but not Cassian?”

“We all must draw lines somewhere, Rhysand.”

Lucien hoists Nyx up into the air, his little wings fluttering, and Eris watches.

“I helped raise all of my brothers,” he states to no one in particular. “It would have been utter carnage if they had wings.”

“And Cassian only makes it worse.”

“Color me surprised. Don’t allow him home alone with Nyx, I’m sure he’ll throw him from your tallest balconies.”

Rhysand breathes through his nose, and Eris knows there’s a great possibility it is something that has already happened.

“What if it’s a boy?” Rhys asks, “you have Hestia Seline.”

“Jasper Camden.”

“Didn’t want another Beron around?” Lucien asks, pushing Nyx into the air on one arm.

“The day I give a child that name is the day I have been possessed.”

The conversation was helping distract Eris, but he kept a tight hold on the bond, ensuring you felt him no matter what.

Eris feels intense pain through the bond, and without thinking, he shoots up off the ground, and opens the door, promptly running into one of the nursemaids.

“High lord, she’s pushing again. The tears were healed, and she’s doing much better. I was just about to get you.”

He comes over to you, holding one of your hands. Feyre was tightly holding your other, holding a damp cloth to your forehead.

“Hello, my love.”

Eris isn’t sure when he started crying, but he knew he was when you smiled back at him, color back to your beautiful face.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a vampire now- ah!”

You breathe out slowly, and Feyre begins whispering words of encouragement to you.

“But my dear, you love the sun too much.”

You nod as you push, and the nurse tells you you can stop for a moment. You catch your breath, looking towards your mate.

“But I would have really cool fangs. I could taste your blood.”

He strokes the back of your hand, kissing your palm. “Anything you want, my love.”

Your labor continued, much faster now as you held onto Feyre and Eris’s hands, frequently apologizing if you break any fingers.

Eris never got to be around for this part. He was always kept in front of closed doors, anxiously waiting for his next brother, uncertain as to his mother’s state. His anxiety reprieved only hours after the actual labor, when he was allowed to visit his mother and new brother.

Now he was here, the bond thrumming between you two, as he got to hear the first cries of his babe. You almost fall back in exhaustion as your babe slides out, but Eris slides behind you, allowing you to rest against his chest.

He holds your sweaty face in his hands, hair damp, kissing your forehead, telling you how proud of you he was and how incredible you were.

The two of you listen to your babe’s cries as the nursemaid brings the babe to you, placing them on your chest.

Every exhalation is accompanied by a wailing too large for the small body as they breathe air into their lungs for the first time.

Eris places a hand on the babe’s back, hoping they’ll remember his touch from the womb. The babe was covered in birth, but Eris didn’t care. He knew being around for this part was a privilege he had never been afforded before.

He kisses your head again, as the nursemaid smiles at the two of you.

“It’s a boy.”

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Black Cloud, Red Fire (Part 1)

(part 2) (part 3)

Black Wind Mountain.

Once a temple in the forest, full of prayers, life, and worshippers. Now, a lair for Yougais and their master.

Everything was silent, except for the song of nature that made that place almost harmless. Untill the sound of panting, foot on the Rocky pavement, and broken leaves emerged.

"Ugh...I should have done cardio...UFF!"

The Destined One, the monkey that had convinced you to follow him, stopped on his tracks to look at his surroundings and gave you the time to catch up. He snickered a little, looking how disappointed you were after the climb on the side of the mountain. He offered you his hand, allowing you to avoid a few more steps before reaching him.

"Not a very outdoor one, uh?"

"I'm more...sitting on the couch person."

"What's a couch?"

"Something BEAUTYFULL....wow..."

You would never get used to the view here: from where our eyes could reach, there was just forest. The mountains were covered in it, and so were the few hills that appeared, giving you almost the idea that you were walking on the backs of thousands of sleeping giants. Here and there, you were able to spot the roof and the spires of small pagodes and temples.

Some prove that once these places were abitated or at least visited by humans and mortals. 

Now, the old structures were black and decaying, a sign that a fire had started so many years ago and what couldn't be saved was left to the wilderness. You both avoided those structures, finding them quite crumbling and dangerous, but nothing stopped you from admiring them.

The air was rarefied, giving you some trouble breathing and forcing you to make more deep inhales. Your companion, used to the high place of birth, had no issues at all, but he gave you the chance to rest and get used to the altitude.

"It feels so unreal... it's like a painting."

"You don't have places like these in your world?"

"Well yeah, but... not so beautiful like this one."

It was even funny to believe that such a beautiful place like this one could hold such dangers as the Yaoguais or whatever was holding the relic of the Great Sage. After another few minutes of adjusting, the two of you continue your way inside the woods, leaving behind the security of the open space.

The light was dim despite the sun high in the sky; the thick of the branches was mostly the cause of it. Walking near your companion, you started to notice how hard it would become trying to look in front of you or even notice the presence of whatever could attack you both.

"Su-sure, this place is...dark."

"Umm.. stay close, okay?"

You pick up the peace, holding tight to your snack on your back, regretting that you didn't ask for a weapon before leaving Mount Huaguo.

"Hely, listen..." You finally spoke up after a few minutes. "Are you sure that the relic is in this...very lovely and absolutely not filled with dangers?"

"Ummm...i guess?"

"YOU GUESS?!" Your voice echoed in one second through the forest; a few birds flied away, afraid of the sudden change. The monkey instantly shushed you.

"We're in enemy territory!"

"...You guess?! You don't know if it's here?!"

You were FURIOUS. Not only they started to blabber about you being some kind of being that were supposed to help them bring back an old legend, almost forcing you to participate, and now the same one that convinced you to give a try to this damn plan that could maybe bring you back home is unsire if that damn thing is in that damn forgotten place?! After that long road?! You really wanted to take that staff of his and smash it on his head! He shushed you again, trying to calm you down to avoid calling too much attention to you two.

"Okay, I know, this sounds crazy, but I can assure you that we have ideas! Firstly, there's a dangerous amount of Yaoguais in this area, and second, did you remember that funny little game that we did back at our mountain?"

"You mean me pointing my finger to a random place on a map just because I felt a tingle in my stomach?"

"Yup." Your eyes widened so much that you could feel your eyelash touch your forehead. You wanted to scream so hard that even whatever gods lived up there could hear you, but before you could, the monkey putted his hand on your mouth.

"There, there, let it all out," he said, while you were just muffling your scream on his hand. When you finally were finished and your breath was out, he removed his hand from your face, allowing you to mumble some curses under your breath.

"So we could be somewhere and find nothing?"

"Or we could be in the right place!"

You grumbled again, now more worried than before about your return to your original world. He sighed. Of course this was absurd to you; everything was, but you needed to trust him a little.

"I know it's hard, but... I believe in you. I know we're on the right path!"

"At least one of the two does..." You mumbled, kicking a rock near you, scratching your arm a little. You really wanted to believe him and in you, but to you, it was just so difficult to do it, especially since you were a complete no one...They all tell you you were some kind of powerful thing, this Bián huá, and yet you couldn't believe a single thing like this.

Looking at you, he guessed that you were still having doubts. He opened his mouth to say something when-

"On the go, bent the toe,

Life of a human, all for gold."

A voice, not far from you both, could be heard from your position. Someone was coming! The monkey looked at you, and a mischievous grin appeared on his face.

"Go and hide in the bush! I'll show you what I can do!"

You fastly follow his instructions, hiding behind some bushes on your right, while the voices get closer and closer. The monkey suddenly vanished under a cloud, only to be replaced with a ripe peach! What's he doing now? On the clearing, just when the smoke disappeared, appeared two... wolves?

They were walking on their two back legs, and like humans, they were wearing some clothes and holding their furr on their heads like some human hairstyles. The both of them were holding a sword; maybe they were scouting the area for some food? You didn't know, but you were sure worried for your monkey! 

"Nowhere better than our home,

We cheat death and ever grow."

One of the two, the one that had his sword already drawn, noticed the fake peach on the ground, emitting a sound of surprise and showing a huge grin on his maw, and immediately went to take it in his paw.

"Here, you see? What bliss my fate shows!" How the hell that big dog was talking?!

"Well well! Luck's around the corner. Seems like it just fell from a fruit tree here." Said the other wolf, looking around in the search for the tree. You really hoped he didn't see you or smell you!

"Perfect timing! This peach knew I needed a snack!" And, after having cleaned it a little from the dust and played with it in his hand, the wolf took a huge bite on the fruit without a second guessing. In that moment, a cry of pain escaped from him, and he threw away the peach, alongside a few of his own teeth and some fur that the monkey must have pulled with it. Once on the ground, after a few jumps, the same smoke from before reappeared, and the fruit turned back to his simian original form.

"You sneaky rascal!" said the wounded wolf. "Dare to fool me?! I'll make sure you'll regret it!"

Before the two wolves could launch their attacks on the monkey, he had already drawn his own weapon from his ear and charged towards the two. You had seen him fight before, and it was always a show that left you in a haze. Violence wasn't a nice view, but his moves, his precision, his strength—it was surely something!

In a few minutes, the two wolves were already defeated and turned to dust, and you reemerged from your hiding spot.

"Wow...that's what you could only say.

"See? told you I could protect you."

"Well, you surely could... but the transformation was really necessary?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by someone.

"No matter how many times you come around. You are still as mischievous as ever, eh?"

An old voice suddenly started to be heard. It was an old one, cranky, and somehow friendly. The both of you started to look around, only to find only trees, rocks, and falling leaves. The monkey immediately came closer to you, looking around and sniffing, but beside the smell of the two wolves, there was nothing—just nature.

"Did...you hear that?" 

"Yer," he said, guarding you.

"Good! I'm not crazy then!"

"And there's the Bián huá! All of you, always doubting your own security!"

You gulped loudly; he could hear you?! But that means he's near?! Then why even the monkey couldn't spot this mysterious old man?!

"Looks... looks like someone is watching us..."

"Um..." he looked at you, noticing your now frightening look, your eyes searching for the source of the voice. He held your hand in his own, gently giving you a small pull. "Came one. I'm sure that we'll find who's talking up ahead."

And so, the two of you started to take the road from where the two wolves had come from, realizing then that, if there was something, it was supposed to be there for sure. The more you started to clumb the path of the mountain, more enemies started to come. They were all wolves, and all of them were supposed to be the front guard of this mysterious place that, for some reason, started to make you feel... uneasy. 

You couldn't put your hands on it, but it reminded you of the strange feeling in your stomach, yeah, the map one. Only that, this time, became stronger and stronger the more you two explored the mountain.

After another turn, the smell of incense reached both of you, and a small smoke caught your attention. Two fires were located at the sides of a small structure, a house in miniature. The closer you get, the more it becomes clear that it was a small shrine, far more detailed and more decorated than the one that you saw on Mount Huaguo. Suddenly, just like before, the same old voice started to ring again around you two.

"Aaah! Wha-what are you waiting for?! Pluck your hair and make an offer!"

You looked at the monkey, raising an eyebrow.

"...Uh...my hair?"

"There." He showed you that, after taking a few hairs from his head, their form changed into a thin and long incense stick that he lit with a few movements of his hand.

"See?"

"I can't do that. Mine is normal hair."

"Ooo, stop making silly excuses! Try it on!"

"Okay okay okay! Geez, I can't believe that I'm listening to a mysterious voice."

You imitated the same motion of the monkey, and, after a small glow, in your hand there was the same incense stick!

"But... did I do that?!"

"See? Always questioning! Now hurry up! Both of you!"

You both put the incense stick inside the small pot full of sand, and, as one surprise wasn't enough, another magic happened in front of you: the decoration of the shrine started to grow like branches, and, in a swirl of petals, pink peach flowers started to bloom under your eyes.

"It's...normal?"

"In some places, yes..."

"...So,...what now?" The monkey shrugged off at your question and made a few steps ahead. Before you could follow, the voice called upon you two once again.

"Hey! Wait!"

A smoke, just like the one that has been summoned by your monkey companion when he transformed, appeared again, but this time in front of you there was what reminded you of an old potato.

He was what you could imagine to be the personification of the concept of old. His legs and arms were so thin that it was strange that he could even move; his bald head, covered in some strange bumps similar to some roots, was covered in wrinkles and some spots here and there; and the white hairs that happened to be his eyebrows and beard covered his facial features that made it hard to see his eyes and mouth.

His robes, tinted in a deep blue, seemed quite elegant, despite their age. His weight was supported by an old wooden staff, curved to the end, and in his other hand a small stick. Does it remind you of a back scratcher?

"I, the keeper of Black Wind Mountain," he said while coughing, cleaning his clothes from the dust. "I have long been waiting for your arrival."

That old voice—he was the one that spoke to you before in the clearing! That old, small thing was the keeper of this mountain?! 

"Let's see... the new Bián huá, eh? Well, you seem in good health," he said while pointing your side with his scratchback. "It will compensate for the lack of faith."

"Hey!" you ward off the wooden object while his continuous touch started to bother you.

"And she has some character on her, a good starting point..and you..." His eyes fell on the monkey, the destiny one. For a moment you feared that he could fall on his old and be ready to crash back, but he regained his stability in a few steps.

"Oh! His spitting image...I'd say."

Of who? You looked at the monkey, and he seemed almost proud? Was the keeper talking about... Sun Wukong? Well, all monkeys looked the same to you, so maybe it was the old age that talked...

"You were waiting for...him?" You pointed at the monkey; the old man just laughed a little at your naiveté.

"Child, I was waiting for both of you! For the Destined one and the Bián huá!" He walked over you two, pointing at the passage that extended ahead of you, between the rocks and the trees.

"Up ahead is Guanyin Temple. Once, it was bustling with worshippers before it was ruined by that fire."

His tone, before proud of the past of the place, became grave when he pointed at the proof of the tragedy that had happened there: skulls, human skulls. Come to think of it, those weren't the first you saw in the area... How many people had died there?

"What...fire?"

"You said you heard of the story, right?" The monkey said, recognizing what the old man was talking about, "You remember about the Elder Jinchi and the Kasaya?"

You pondered a little. You weren't that costumed about it, but you know that, perhaps, that was the cause of the fire.

"Yes, children..." said the keeper, pointing up ahead. "Then the temple was rebuilt." He suddenly turned to you, expressing a questioned and angry tone, "But what good is it to rebuild a temple if the good will of men has been burned to ashes?"

You kneeled near one of the skulls. It was so...small...the fear of the age of the one that once was in front of you struck you.

"But...it was rebuilt...then why the Yaoguais are here?" The monkey spoke, looking at the old man, still curious about the whereabouts of the temple.

"Monks came, men too, and they tried to rebuild life here! But that bear...he led his minions here!....Who couldn't escape had faced a bitter end."

"But...you're the keeper of this place...the deity of the mountain..." you finally spoke, following the step of the monkey. "You could take care of them, right? There as to be some way to fix this place!"

"I would! But that damn bear...he had brought something so powerful that even I couldn't match!"

Something that he couldn't match?... The eyes of the monkey gleamed, looking up at the mountain.

"The relic...it must be the relic!" He turned to you, ejoyed by this news: "You were right! You foudn it!"

"I...found it?" You repeated, "I... did! I did! ...oh...."

You soon realized what that meant, and suddenly, another sound emerged from the dark. A long, strong, and eerie howl of something that scared even the keeper and manmy birds that had already flied away from their previous location.

"You forgot this place," said the keeper, retreating away from the passage, "but they haven't forgotten you!"

You stod in your position, scavared by the sudden change of atmosphere, while the monkey observed the passage with caution, expecting everything to appear from it at any given moment. The old man, like he had appeared, disappeared in the cloud of smoke.

"That's a tough one. Good luck to you!"

And these were his last words, before you and your companion were left alone again. More than before, you felt an amount of emotion that you couldn't describe, but when you looked at the road where you came from, some doubts arose in you. The monkey noticed your fear, and he waited for your reaction.

Despite the desire to run, you simply couldn't. You stayed there, eyeing the entrance and your only way out. When you finally turned to the entrance, where you sure didn't want to go, you gulped.

"There's no turning back from there...right?" The monkey sighed; he wanted to tell you that you could just turn back and that he could handle it, but he couldn't say that; he knew that it was a lie.

This was supposed to be made in two.

"If you don't trust in yourself... then trust in me... trust in my ability."

He lends his hand towards you... and, with fear, doubt, and so many regrets, you take it, slowly entering the passage alongside him.

///

From that moment on, the forest became full of wolves. It was hard to advance without encountering a new enemy, and every time your companion never showed a moment of stress or panic, he only charged, attacking those enemies without trace of fear. Your only option, by your side, was to stand back, hide, or just... watch. You couldn't do more...even if, isnide, it made you quite nervous.

"Don't you get tired?"

"No, I've been doing this since I was a cup!"

"I wish I could help more." You scratched your arm again; it must have been a sign that showed your stress he had noticed. He just packed your back, swinging his tail.

"If you like, I can teach you a few tricks! Once we're back home with the relic, we'll have plenty of time!"

"You...would?" It felt nice. He didn't show off your anxiety about your role in that mission; instead, he just wanted to help you get confidence by taking some steps ahead. It was a nice gesture, even if you were quite unsure about if it could really help you.

"Of course!" he laughed. "We're both in this!"

You nodded. It was true; you were both in that.

The sound of the water became of a falling one, a sign that the river nearby became a waterfall. You were walking by it, searching for a few herbs, when you both became interested in taking and collecting when you heard something else. Another voice; it wasn't from the keeper, of course, but it wasn't like the ones from the wolves either. To be fair, there were no wolves now that your companion had cleaned the area.

When the sound of the waterfall became stronger, that's when you noticed.

"Monkey! Look over there!" You finger pointed towards a figure. Curved on her back, her white, messy hair spiked the most on het dark attire. The clothes were old and raggy, and by the jiggle he was wearing some wooden jewels. The long and thin hair and his colorful muse give away immediately her species. Your companion suddenly came closer, looking where your finger was pointing, noticing the creature.

"A Mandrill! There near the edge of the waterfall!" You kept saying. You didn't know what she was doing; it seemed like she was searching for something or trying to collect it from a stone, quite big, that rested in the center of the stream. The low level of the water allowed the rock to be accessible to the mandrill, but she seemed like whatever she was trying to rescue was stuck or simply unavaible.

The baboon must have heard your voice, and suddenly she stopped his doing with the rock, spinning away from it. You gasped when you saw her launch herself to the cliff, moving forward. But when you reached the same edge, you saw nothing there.

"She should be at least around..."

"I don't think that was a simple Mandrill, Y/N." The monkey that had reached your side was in time to take you and pull you back from the edge, fearing a fall.

"Was she your friend? Do you know her?"

"I never saw her in my entire life. Hey, hold on!" He looked at you, his hand on his hips. "It's not like we monkey know each and every one of us!"

"Well," you keep it up, mimicking his gesture, "you called each other brother and sister! And meeting a familiar face wouldn't be so bad here!"

He chuckled, giving you a small push. Then, both of your eyes landed on the rock that the baboon was inspecting, and curiosity took over.

"What do you think she was doing?"

"Well, let's take a look!" He went closer to the rock, and there you both realized that it wasn't completely a rock. It was a head—a big rocky head—maybe one of a statue that once must have been a decoration of the long-lost temple. The expression of the man that was depicted was calm and relaxed, his earlobe long; maybe a Buddha? The monkey started to clean the area and noticed some scratching at the base of one of the closed eyes of the statue. It seemed like he was trying to make a hole in it...

"Maybe there's a switch or-" And just when your hand touched the statue, suddenly its eyes wide opened. One of the two cavities of pure stone, but the one where the Mandrill was scratching was hollow and contained something. A sphere, pure white, the only color a red must at the center, discolored by the time. It wasn't smooth at all, but at the touch it was perceptible—some spirals, decotrating the orb.

"...What is it?" You asked curious, tapping the orb with your finger.

"I don't know... but it seems important; let's keep it!" And so, the orb soon vanished inside his own sack.

"You surely are one that loves to collect staff around, eh?"

"Well, if something is useful..."

You chukled a little, leaving the stream at your back. Keep it up with your ascension on the mountain. It didn't take long that now you would face another obstacle, and oooh boy, what an obstacle!

Guarding the gate, a huge Yaoguais was holding a huge Helberd, moving back and forward, ready to strike whoever crossed his path, or it was unlucky enough to meet it. It reminded you of some kind of bull, but he was pretty messed up to be one... The thing that really concerned you was the fact that he was practically in front of the gate; it was impossible to miss without a fight. Hiding behind a tree, you looked at your companion, who, without if or but, just took his own staff, ready to get in action.

"Stay here; be careful not to be spotted and to run."

"Run?"

"Just in case, wish me luck!" and so he marched towards the bull that, as soon as he had spotted him, he followed his example.

The two started to clash their weapons immediately, and you could clearly see that the monkey had the advantage of his small stature and his agility. He avoided all of his attacks in a few steps, which made the bull upset and more aggressive. And the guai had one more thing in his arsenal: he was scarily strong. Despite his massive stricture, the guai was able to make some huge jumps, creating such waves in his impact that the monkey needed to be careful around to avoid falling down and became an easy prey.

Unfortunely, the monkey made a misstep: in the attempt of blocking the helberd, the bull struck with full force, catching the opponent like a rag doll, and, after a good spin to get velocity, slammed him on the ground. He rose his helberd, ready to stride.

"NO!"

You screamed, leaving the tree where you were hiding, but before something could happen, a golden aura wrapped around the bull and, just before his last strike over the monkey could be delivered, his entire body stopped. It wasn't just stopped because he had stopped the attack, but because his entire body was like frozen!

You immediately went to the monkey side, checking the damage from the last strike. He was incredibly untouched; the helbard must have struck him in the side where there was no blade and just acting as a hammer. His body may be fine, but he had felt that.

"Oh God, oh God, are you okay?!"

"Ugh...It...hurt!"

Maybe not lethal but a bruise really was surely ready to appear there. You grasped his gourd, helping take a sip of that strange magic juice that the old monkey entrusted you both to take in case of these kinds of damages. After a gulp, the monkey lamented the savor of the concuun, but he was fine at least!

"The bull?!" He looked at you, ready to defend you.

"Ehm ..."

You pointed at his opponent, Frozen in One Place. Then you heard some ruffles, some paint of fatigue, and...the keeper?!

Somehow, he had started to climb the bull back and, once reached its shoulder, he took a jump from it, falling on his two sticked legs. 

"It's been a while, but the Immobilize Spell still works like a charm!" He laiughed, clearly satisfied and somehow proud to show you both some of his own ability. You, on the other hand, were more interested in helping the monkey get back on his feet, preoccupied with finding more damages from the foe. Lucky for you, the juice was able to cure all of his wounds, even if the hurt of the strike still lingered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes...huff, he almost got me..." He looked at the now immobilized bull, still ready to send his last strike on him. "A trick like this could be very useful around here."

"Well, since you hail from Mount Huaguo, it won't hurt to teach you a handy trick."

The monkey looked at him, still recovering from the fall, when the old man started to move his wooden hand around. It started to emit a soft light and some sparkle.

"Now, here we go; give me your hand!" And, without wait or but, the same small wand emitted a light that struck towards the monkey. You companion, fearing for another attack, immediately covered his face with his hand, but instead of pain, he felt... nothing?

Not nothing; he felt the same sensation when you pour warm water on your arm—harmless and somehow nice. He felt the sensation rise to his arm, to his shoulder, and then disappear, leaving only a sigyl on the palm of the same hand. You both noticed that it was the same symbol above the bull head.

"There you go, "continued the old man, while the two of you were observing the sign, in a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Should you come across any miscreants, just point your finger at them and release this spell. You'll be able to hold them in place while giving yourself a breather."

The monkey studied more his hand, carefully seeing the sign slowly disappearing on his skin, while you looked at the old man with a gleam of hope.

"It's going to come in handy around here!" said the monkey, his confident smirk coming back on his face.

"It would be so helpful if I could learn something like this too." 

"My child," said the old man, chukling at your naivety. "In this world, muscles and brute force are not the only weapons that you can possess!" And, knowing who you are, a spell like this is a joke for you!"

"I...can learn it too?" You looked at the bull, and, in a rush of courage, you took some steps in front of it.

You waved your hand in front of it and, noticing that it was pretty much impossible for it to move, you laughed, running back to your companion, who instintly put you behind him, like ready to defend you if that thing was ready to move again.

"It's amazing!" you said in joy. "With this trick, we can avoid so many fights!"

"Y/n," the monkey said to you, disconsolate," we can't just avoid every fight we have in front of us."

"He's not right, child," the old man sighed. "Sadly, mine is but an humble trick. Its power will wear off within a few short moments."

"Moments?!" you gulped, jumping back. "And when were you expecting to tell us that?!"

"I told you that it's not that simple!" Monkey came back to his fighting stance, while you took a step back, taking more distance from the upcoming fight.

"Ah ah, yes, yes, I know, not a great spell; thought it's good enough against boneheads like this one!" He pointed again to the bull with a teasing tone. "Anyway, just consider it an ace up your sleeve."

As soon as he finished his speech, the blow that was stopped suddenly crashed to the ground; the golden aura had dissipated from the bull, and it was angry.

The keeper was able to retreat from the scene, clearly shaken by the sudden release of the bull that now pointed to the monkey and you furious.

"The Yaoguais these days know no manners!"

"Y/n! Stand back!" His immediate thought came to your own safety; now the bull had seen you, and every chance could be good for it to attack you!

"FEAR NOT! "screamed the keeper to you and the monkey, "Teach him a lesson with your new spell!"

As soon as the old man had disappeared, the bull went on the offensive, more aggressive than he was before. You had to retreat as best as you could to avoid the fight and to be spotted by the giant creature. He needed more minutes to adjust to this new technique, but just when the bull tried to play the same trick from before, the monkey was ready and used the spell against it. 

It stopped! It was completely immobile! You gasped for the excitement, and, after the monkey had gifted you a small wink like to tell you to watch, he suddenly launched himself to his counterattack.

The bull was free after a few moves, but it was more shaken than before and pretty much hurt. He needed another good strike, but after that the monkey was able to put down his opponent and, just like the others, disappeared in a cloud of dust.

"You did it!" YOU DID IT! YOU USED THE SPELL!"

You jumped to him in joy; he freed the passage! And now he learned a new trick! He was just amazing!

He patted your shoulder, laughing a little like you, with a soft shade of red on his cheeks. "Yes, yes, I did it! But it's not over yet!"

He pointed to the now-opened passage—the road ahead of you.

///

"If it wasn't for the wolves ready to kill us, I would love to take a picnic here."

"Pic nic?"

"When you bring lunch outside and eat in the wild. I used to do it a lot when I went on the mountain to my grandparents during the summer."

Monkey seemed always interested in knowing your past; it seemed like, despite all, you had an almost normal childhood...noyt like its own...always training, always giving his best...well, he loved to make some pranks here and there, but the others had always considered him the responsible one of the bunch.

While walking, your attention was taken by an unusual sight: it must have been a balcony in the past; now what was left was only the old decoration of the door, the structure to the outside, and the wood that composed the floor. Two small pillars, decorated with two figures of what presumebly was Guanyin, were on the sides of a cushion and, in front of it, an incense holder.

"Someone use this place..."

"It must be a meditation point, to meditate...a great spot, even..."

You looked to the monkey; why so? It was in the middle of nowhere. By his looks, lost in the horizon, you followed his example. It was quite beautiful and calming. He then decided to take a place in the cuschion and ask you to follow him.

"Came on! It helps the mind!"

"I'll just watch. I'm not good alone with my thought."

"As you wish..."

His eyes closed, his face relaxed, like every muscle of his body. He seemed like a statue in that pose, and by how quickly he was able to communicate, or he needed a lot, or he just was used to that practice. You, instead, decide to sit at the edge of the structure, sighing and admiring the view.

He was right; it wasn't just beautiful; it was calming. You closed your eyes, letting the mountain breeze caress your cheeks and air, allowing it to enter your nostrils and your lungs.

You could hear so many things like that—the creaking of the wood, the howling of a few wolves in the distance, the leaves that moved in the branch—since when these sounds were so hard to listen to in your world?

In the distance, mountains could be seen, and, not far from your spot, structures that maybe once were habitated by humans and monks. Knowing that such a desolation happened in that place, yet nature decided to reclaim that portion of the world, taking back what had been taken away.

You sighed again, more air in your lungs...then a hand shaken you.

"Don't do this on the edge, at least! You can take a place near me!"

"You gave me a heart attack!"

"And how was I supposed to feel when I saw you there, ready to fall?!"

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'll do it with you next time!"

He seemed pleased; at least he wasn't obligated to catch you from a dead fall on a cliff!

"You were right. It's beautiful... Yaoguais aside."

"Yes, I don't know what's going to happen after we take the relic back from the Black Bear, but maybe things are going to get better."

"I just..." you scratched your arm. "I just hope the monks that died here can find a piece."

The image of that skull was still fresh in your mind. It scared you, yes, but it was most definitely sad. They must have been so scared alone. He looked at you with fondness; your thoughts decided to go to the ones that had suffered. You must have had quite a big heart. He took your hand, smiling.

"They'll be glad to know that we're taking care of this...now..." he pointed at two fires, both of the at the sides of a passage, an opening on the rocky walls of the mountain. "We must go. There's still a long road for us."

You nodded, and so you went back to your journey.

///

"We had to pass..."

"There are like...a LOT of wolves there, and I have a really bad feeling!"

"But we can't just stop here!"

"Well, we can't surely move forward like this?!"

Since he had made it clear that there was more enemy ahead, the two of you started to discuss what to do, but it seems like it was harder than you both thought. He sensed a lot of enemies ahead, and if he had to make a safe road, protecting you wasn't easy. You wanted to search a safe path, but there wasn't something like this right there, and he wanted to march in and take care of the problems right there.

"Listen, I'm going in."

"Monkey, please let's just-"

"Hey! Wait! You don't think you can just parade in, do you?! It's not that simple!"

As again, the old man had decided to appear and gave some help to the two of you. You gave a sigh of relief. Finally, that could actually listen to you!

"Finally! I was trying to tell him! We must take another path!"

"Dear one, there's no other path here!"

"Ah, ah!" the monkey smuggled on your face. "See? No path! ...So, any other suggestion, old keeper?"

"But of course I do! Let me transform you into a golden cicada, so you may follow the fires ahead and scout this mountain unnoticed."

He pointed to a series of fires that started to streech across the forest, a way to move across the darkness of the trees, especially during cloudy days or the night. With the same movements of his wand, the old man created the same light from the last time and, once again, struck the poor monkey.

"Wait wait! I can do it by my"

"FLY!"

"SELF!"

Like before, the poor monkey was completely helpless against the magic of the so helpful keeper, and instead of the young, bold monkey, now there was a small insect, with golden shades, flying around. The old man laughed, looking how confused the small cicada was trying to recall his surroundings. Now, there was this little inconvenience...

"But..." you pointed to your still humanoid body. "What about me?"

"Umm...a cicada is hard. You need a lot of control to move so many little arms and legs. Let's see. Let's see. Something simple, something helpless, something...ah!"

"Wait! Let me at least prepare my-"

Without a warning, you were the second victim of the Keeper magic, but you weren't what you were expecting. You looked at your now fluffy paw, a small cottontail, and very long ears.

"A rabbit?! Why can't I fly too?!"

"It's harder than it looks, child! Now, it might be humble, but my shrine is very versatile. You'll get it soon enough."

And, with these words, the Keeper disappeared in another cloud of smoke, leaving the cicada and the bunny alone.

"It's not fair. I wanted to fly too!"

"If it makes you feel better," said the cicada in a very pinch-high voice, "you look fluffiest than ever."

You two laughed a little before hearing for the last time the old Keeper.

"In the depths of Black Winf Mounain, there are secrets galore. These transformations may help you explore, but be wary; this form does not last forever."

"What do we do if we get lost?"

"Should you find yourself lost, just follow my voice. Now, off you go!"

You two looked at each other and, uncertain, started to move.

He had it easier; he could just fly around without getting spotted! You needed to act as natural as possible! Somehow, the wolves seemed more interested in cooking the ones that they already had than huunting you, so you were able to move around, alongside other bunnies and racoons, without fear of being taken.

When the two of you had the impossibilities to avoid the wolves, you were able to listen to them talk. It seemed that your presence in the mountain has been spotted, but they weren't sure of where you were or what your real intention was. As much as they knew, they only knew about a shapeshifter and a mortal alongside him. They also talked about a certain lord... maybe an affiliate of the bear?

Well, at least like that, you could avoid so many troubles... Somehow, you felt a little more safe in the shape of such a helpless animal. You both kept on going, following the fire as instructed, finding the way easier that you expected to find.

"Look! I can see the end of the trail of fire, Y/N!" The small voice of the monkey called you out from the bushes, pointing with his antennea at what was supposed to be the less populated area.

"Finally, being a bunny is... not... so."

You felt something inside you. You felt...a calling. 

You turned around; there was another of those old porches, one that the fire had only ruined but not destroyed. You looked in that direction, and you were sure it came from there.

"We just need to cross; we're so...Y/N?"

You weren't anymore near the bushes, so he got closer and started to roam the small area.

"Y/n? Y/N?!" He called, louder this time and much more worried. He couldn't see you. Where did you go?! Why did you leave all of a sudden?!

You couldn't hear his call; there was something else that held your attention. It was the same pull in your chest that called you towards the relic, but it was...different. It felt like stagnant water, a mix of smells that you couldn't quite get. 

It was a large clearing; the wall of the mountain and a cliff, secured with a parapet, gave them a natural circular shape. Besides trees and plants, fog covered the area, hiding a wooden structure in the same area. You couldn't put your hand on it, but something was there—something big and round. You jumped closer, not noticing the aura of fiery eyes looking at your every movement. Before you could get closer, a large pressure came to your delicate neck; a hand with a sharp claw had you now in his clutches. 

"Well, well... and what do we have here?

Avoiding screaming helped you to keep your bunny form, but you couldn't hold a gasp when you saw the wolverine creature that was holding you by your neck. Now you were in big trouble!

The wolf was different from the other; he seemed older and calmer. His robe reminded you of one of a monk, but it was so old and lacerated. His old mansion was so ruined, almost burnt here and there. Despite his strength, his claw gently held you and took you in his arm, holding you in place. You felt his rough fingers scratching your head, confusing you more than before.

"It's not a safe place for a small one like you. Humans and wolves love eating your flesh. I used to eat your kind when I was younger; now I can only remember the hunt."

Oh, so he didn't eat bunnies? He could have eaten humans, though.

Besides him, a long staff was stuck into the ground, a double blade to each end. You noticed now that the blade was strange in certain places; it seemed like it had burned. Now, in his arms, you could see clearly what was holding the structure: a bell, a giant bell made of iron.

It was simple, besides the decorations, like many other bells around... then why you seemed to be pulled by it.

You jumped from the wolf arms, sniffing and getting closer to the giant metal object.

"I never saw bunnies interested in bell... I suppose to guard it...but you don't look like a treat."

Well, not now at least.

You made another jump, much closer; now your small paw was able to reach the bell when, in your head, his sound started to echo so hard that it was painful.

Your body couldn't handle it, so you scream, holding your small rodent head in those paws, scaring the wolf, and, with any chance to control it, the pain forced you to release your true form.

You were still holding your head when you noticed the wolf, now holding his weapon.

"You... you tried to trick me, human?!" You gulped and tried to get back, finding yourself stuck between the wolf and the bell.

"I-i didn't-" Then, a sound or rustling and footstep caught your and the wolf's attention.

"Who goes there?! How dare you interrupt my meditation?"

And so, the face of a very worried monkey appeared from the fog and the shadow, looking at you with apprehension by your vicinity with the Yaoguai. The wolf looked at him, and a small smile came to his face, far more sinister than the one that he had shown you before.

"Hmmm...another monkey I see?" He asked, almost happy to see him. The blade in his hand started to change; it became red like it was on fire. Hold on, IT WAS ON FIRE!

"Why don't you lay down your weapon and join me in Buddha's mercy?" His weapon had made a few swifts on the ground; the dead leaves, the herbs, and whatever that thing was touching suddenly started a small fire, separing you from your companion.

"What say you?!"

He needed to connect; the wolf was already on his tail when he marched on! He needed to get you out of there before the fire could reach you; luckyly, you took cover behind the giant bell! Maybe he had time; he just needed to calm him down before it was too late!

That wolf was old, but he was a formidable foe! His swing was like he had never seen anyone do it, and every strike was precise and destructive. It was just like a fire; you couldn't control it; you could just watch and hope it doesn't destroy more.

But he needed to fight that fire!

He used the spell that the keeper had taught him and started again to attack his opponent. Sometimes, out of the blue, the wolf was able to persome formidabvòe aerial attacks, where even the monkey found trouble defending himself. Sometimes he was even able to rush like he could fly, and the fire just made him stronger.

Fighting him wasn't easy, but with the help of the spell and the fact that his own technique didn't need too much energy to be imposed, the monkey was soon the victorious one of the duels.

The wolf fell on the ground, covered in bruises and blood; his fur was now more burned than before. His eyes cast between you, now free to move while the monkey was killing the fire, and his opponent.

"You..." His voice was in pain, the last stray of strength only to talk, "Master spoke of you."

And while he started to disappear, three last words came from his mouth.

"The Destined...one..."

Peace came back in the clearing. 

You looked at where the wolf had disappeared, asking yourself how much his master knew about you two, about what happened there, and..the hand of the monkey slapped your head.

"Don't run off like that again!"

"Ouch! It wasn't my fault!"

"Yeah! Some strange magic led you here?!"

"..."

"...Seriously?"

You sighed; of course it was crazy, but it was true! Something called you here to do...something!

"I'm sorry...it just...something is strange... I don't know what's happening in me."

The monkey looked at your face. You were so concentrated, your hand caressing the carving of the metal face of the giant object. He wasn't used to bell like this; his own hand caressed the wooden trunk made to play the instrument.

"...Monkey?" He looked at you and said, "We should play it."

"No way! They'll spot us!"

"We're already on everyone's agenda! Please! I... I need it." You please.

He sighed, ready to regret every moment of this. He needed just a swing of the trunk when the sound of the bell started to resonate on the entire aura—on the mountain itself.

Then something else happened. Everything got dark; it was a forest, like the one you and your companion were planting—a child—he was alone. Many people were dying there; something had to hunt them down!

No! You must run! The bear! The bear is... giving him... jewels?

The sun rises, the monastery...

When you woke up from the trance, the monkey had to catch you before falling from the scaffold of the bell.

"Y/n! What's happening?! Are you okay?!"

You just moved your head, confused, scared...was that a vision? It was an old memory? The stagnant water now was moving; a rotting smell came to you.

"You just had to make some noise, did you?!" The voice of the Keeper came back again. He seemed stressed; the sound had scared some birds too. "Now everyone knows you're here! When a chime so grand echoes in the forest, Yaoguais will surely be alarmed!"

He was right; the monkey was able to sense the hair change now. The road was getting just more difficult...

"I'm sorry. I asked him to do it."

"Child, why asking for such a thing?!"

"....I....i'm sorry..."

The monkey couldn't stay angry with such a hurt expression in front of him...but why do you need it? And what did you see? Holding you in his arms, he started to head back to the road.

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[surielstea]

Ruined Ice

Pairing: hockey!Azriel x figure skater!Reader (fem)

Summary: Az shows up early for practice and catches reader in the middle of her program, rutting up the fresh ice.

Warnings: cursing | name calling | fluff

A/N: Guys I know nothing about hockey or figure skating so please don’t come for me if some of this is wrong lmao 😭

2.3k words

The blades on the bottoms of my skates could cut through steel they were so sharp. I had made the mistake of running my thumb pad across the toepick and nicked my skin, no bigger than a paper cut but I barely even touched the metal before blood began to bead at where it had made contact.

My mood, however, was improved to its full extent when I stepped onto the ice and realized it was untouched.

I beam wildly as I begin to glide on my smooth blades around the rink, beginning my warm-ups and leaving light trails with every move I make.

Warming up took a quarter of my rented time in the rink, and the next two quarters were spent practicing my program. The state tournament was close, and approaching all too fast. My coach wasn’t able to make it tonight, yet he practically ordered me to practice anyway. I wasn't complaining, well I had been, but on this fresh ice with the cold wind nipping at my cheeks in an empty rink, I had never been more at peace.

That was the case, at least until the Hockey Players began showing up for their practices. I still had fifteen minutes left of ice time but none other than the infamous Azriel Teller was lacing up his skates on the sidelines, staring at me as I went through my routine, doing my best to ignore his gaze.

It was hard though, the man was so damned observant and I swore I could feel his eyes tracking me across the ice.

I finish my routine in my final pose, heavy breaths escaping me as I let the stance fall and I go back to my phone on the side of the wall where I can restart my music.

My phone that happened to be right in front of Azriel.

I ignored his stare and kept my eyes on the wall, making sure to go slow, knowing my freshly sharpened skates would force me straight into the wall if I went any faster.

I grab my phone with cold hands but before I even get the chance to unlock it, the male in front of me speaks up.

"You're ruining the ice," He hums and I look up from my phone, glaring at him, silently asking him if he was serious.

"Your whole team ruts up the ice every chance you get, don't start," I wave him off, scrolling through my phone to find a song to cool down to since my ice time was coming to an end.

"We rut the ice? You and your fancy twirls practically make holes straight through," He defends and I wince because I knew he was right. Especially since my skates were extra sharp tonight.

"It's not my fault you can't evade them like some bad skater," I taunt, picking a song and letting it blast over the speakers to drown him out as I skate away.

Calling Azriel a bad skater was absurd, he must've been the fastest on the ice when compared to the rest of his team, not to mention his accuracy when it came to scoring goals was outmatched. I had heard from Feyre— my best friend who was dating the team captain, that Azriel was the brains for the whole team as well, always the one planning the strategic plays, but apparently, he wasn't allowed to be a captain since he got into one too many fights during his first season.

When my cooldown music ended, mostly everyone else on the Velaris Bats had shown up for practice, staring at me as I stretched my leg up beside my head like I was an animal in the zoo. I still had five minutes left of ice time, so I made sure Azriel was watching when I practiced doing my ‘fancy twirls’, the exercise had exhausted me but it was worth it to see the look of silent rage on his face.

I continued to grin, using him as my spot as I whipped around in the air and landed gracefully down onto the ice, at such an angle that it left a horrid chip in the ice I'd have to avoid for the rest of my routine.

I spot some of the other boys noticing this as well, scowls on their faces as I give them a wink before they rush off to what I assume is the locker room to get their equipment.

Again, leaving only Azriel and I. He steps onto the ice before my time is up and I glide past him with a smirk and he returns it, something in his gaze telling me he knew something I didn't.

I brush it off and continue with my spins and jumps.

I had just come out of a lutz with enough momentum to push a boulder down a hill when suddenly all the lights in the rink shut off. I freeze, my legs buckling at the sudden change, my eyes not used to the atmosphere and before I know it I'm speeding towards a wall, incapable of scrambling to a stop on my skates that were far too sharp.

I shrieked, attempting to pivot on my toepick but it only sent me tumbling forward. I blanch at the realization that I was about to slam into the ice over such an amateur move.

But before I make contact with the frozen ground, hands come to my waist and pull me away from my sudden doom. I gasped, catching my breath as a figure steadied me, gliding along the ice along with me until I managed to come to a stop.

I look up to my savior only to find Azriel standing in front of me, his hands still on my waist as if we were pair skaters. Why was he so effortlessly graceful in the rink?

"Thanks," I mutter, my skates making a crisp sound as they halt against the ice.

"Don't thank me, it was my teammates who turned off the lights," He said, looking down at me, his hands still on my waist as we stood in the center of the rink with the lights shut off.

With the absence of his pads, I could feed his abdomen pressed to my chest, I had been panting from my restless jumps but he hadn't seemed affected when he saved me, like he knew I'd panic.

"Still, I can't afford to get any more bruises," I say through heavy breaths. He cracks a smile.

"I know the feeling," He hums, making no move to let go of my waist, and I'd be lying if I said he wasn't heavily supporting my tired limbs at the moment.

"Usually I'm better at stopping, I just got my blades sharpened," I explain and he arches a brow, his gaze almost amused.

"You don't have to make excuses, Princess, you could just admit you wanted to be in my arms," He taunts and I roll my eyes, pushing him away to which he glides back.

"Quit calling me that," I toss at him as I slowly make my way off the ice, returning to the solid ground as I put on the guards over the blades of my skates. Snow Princess had been my stage name when I was younger, it was my mom's choice, and I had been happy with it at the time, Azriel liked to remind me of it every waking moment he saw me, in fact, I couldn't remember the last time he called me by my actual name.

"Not in a million years, Princess," He continues his teasing and I huff, untying my laces and shucking my blades off, favoring a pair of tennis shoes that felt like walking on clouds compared to the tightness of my skates.

The lights turn back on and I look out at the rink, seeing just how much damage I did with my turns. I smile in triumph as I watch Azriel avoid the chips in the ice as he practically soars throughout the rink.

The rest of the players came out onto the ice only a moment later while I shrugged my coat on, losing interest in the others once it wasn’t just Azriel. They had all pushed him off the rink, telling him to hurry up and change so they could start practice already.

I ignore their raucous laughter and crude words as I make my way into the locker rooms, eager to get my stuff and then go home. I could already feel my legs aching with soreness and it's barely been a few minutes off the ice.

I opened my locker just as Azriel strolled in.

I hadn't known his locker had been situated directly next to mine until he opened it and took out all his pads and equipment, then, right then and there to my utter shock he began changing right in front of me.

"You know there's changing rooms, right?" I avoid looking at him, my eyes pinned straight to my locker as I clean it out, stuffing things into my bag.

"I'm in a rush," He said and I could see him shrug from my periphery. "I was too busy saving you from the wall," He remarks and I whirl to face him, then immediately regretting it because he was still shirtless.

"You didn't have to do that," I wished my words came out a little more sour but instead they trailed off, similar to how my eyes dipped from his face to his exposed skin, the cut of his abdomen, the ripples of muscle in his arms, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When my eyes meet his again, I'm also met with a stupid smirk on his lips. "Seems like you wanted me too," He teases, leaning dauntingly closer. I swallow thickly. He was so damned near I could practically feel the heat from his skin. "Seems like you want a lot more from me than just my arms wrapped around you," His gaze was entirely predatory. I swallowed thickly, heat staining my cheeks and I knew that I was blushing. "Do you want to wrap around something else?" He arched a brow and I pushed him away, my hands feeling like they were burning the moment they touched his bare skin but he stumbled back and the look of surprise on his face was priceless.

"You're such an asshole," I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

"That wasn't a no, Princess," He crooned.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that?" I frown. I could leave if I wanted to, I have my bag, I was ready. But he knew I'd rather sit here and argue with him than go home.

"I thought I told you no?" He retorts, taking a long stride forward and pinning me between him and the lockers. "It suits you," He surmised. "A stuck-up, prudish, princess," He leans closer with every word, and by the time he finished speaking his nose was nearly brushing mine. I maintained eye contact, holding my ground.

"I'm not stuck up, and I'm definitely not a prude," I cross my arms over my chest defensively.

"Is that right?" He tilts his head, his voice low. His eyes flick down to my lips, then so leisurely trail back up to my eyes.

"I'm not kissing you," I scoff, I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but now the bastard's smirk was wider.

"I don't remember saying anything about a kiss?" He taunts and I grit my teeth. “Is that what you fantasize about to help you sleep at night?”

"Oh, just shut up already.” I crash my lips onto his.

He immediately reacts to the movement, his arm wraps around my waist while his other cups my jaw, pulling me into him, not wasting a second before we have to pull away for air.

I melt into him, my cold body from the ice immediately heating as my fingers press against his bare abdomen, sliding my hand up his chest.

His hands find their way to my hips, slipping to the backs of my thighs and lifting me up, my back pressed against the lockers as my legs wrap around his torso. My arms wrap around the nape of his neck as I taste him deeper, every flick of his tongue over mine sending waves of pleasure down my spine. "We shouldn't be doing this in here," I whisper against his lips.

"I don't care," He confessed, his hands gripping the underside of my thighs tighter.

"Someone could walk in," I argue, but I don't bother pulling away.

"Are you nervous about being seen with me?" He taunts and I hit his shoulder playfully, kissing him deeply as a reply before pulling away a fraction to say,

"You're going to be late," I try to defend but I swear he could barely hear me with how drunk he was on my lips because as soon as I was done speaking his mouth was back on mine and any other words I could conjure were swallowed by his all-consuming kiss.

"You worry too much, Princess," He grumbled.

"Yo, Az!" A familiar voice shouts through the doorway of the locker room, and gods we were lucky that he had me pinned to the wall. "What's taking so long hurry up," Cassian calls, and Azriel slowly pulls away from my lips.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second," He retorts and my head slumps back against the lockers while Azriel slowly puts me back down onto my feet.

"You're lucky we didn't get caught," I glare up at him but he only returns it with a smile. He grabs his equipment bag and slings it over his shoulder.

"This," He gestures between me and him. "Isn't over, alright?" He leans in close and I only nod. He pecks my lips before leaving the locker room, the door creaking as it shuts and leaves me standing there utterly speechless.

What the hell just happened? And why did I enjoy every second of it?

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[revelboo]

Not me about to impulsively splurge on some familiar gen 1 figures (cough cough starscream cough cough) thanks to this lovely brainrot I’ve been nursing with these nuggets of your stories ❤️

Do it!

Everything is Alright pt 15

Starscream x Reader-MIA

• Gone. Venting sharply, Starscream stares at his desk and its complete lack of one small, helpless human. Moving slowly, he checks around the desk, spark constricting. As angry as you were with him, surely you wouldn’t have jumped just to spite him. Not finding any trace of you should have been a relief, instead it just spins that panic tighter.

• Because that means someone took you. Skywarp, Thundercracker, and Soundwave are the only three who know about you and he’s sure his trine wouldn’t dare. Not after he’d explained in very clear terms how displeased he’d be if you’re touched again. Soundwave then. The mostly silent mech is unusually interested in his pet’s well-being. It has to be Soundwave. Any other Decepticon and it’s already too late. Moving quickly, he strides down the hall as a very real fear he doesn’t want to touch begins to build.

• While Soundwave is easy enough to track down, the mech just stares at him when he hisses under his breath, demanding to know where the human is. And then spreads his arms, palms up as if to ask why did he think he’d know. It’s like being sucker punched in the denta. Soundwave doesn’t have you. Neither does his trine.

• Now his processor runs wild. A lot of the Decepticon ranks would squash you on sight. Some would toy with you first. A few might dissect you out of scientific curiosity or boredom. He catches the side of the console, startling Soundwave as his wings flick with faint tremors and his servos dig into the metal he’s bracing against, warping it. Just one thing. That’s all he’d wanted. One little thing that was his. Someone glad to see him.

• And he can’t stop that awful, betraying trembling in his wings. Hates that Soundwave is seeing it as he grits his denta. Because whoever took what’s his is going to pay so very dearly.

• They’re absolute gremlins, you decide as you run along with Soundwave’s cassettes through the huge halls. Or maybe they’re more bored teenagers, because their chief source of entertainment seems to be pranks. At least Frenzy and Rumble’s. The other two seem content to watch whatever chaos the disaster twins, as you’ve privately dubbed them, come up with. Including industrial strength adhesives, paint bombs, and stealing energon cubes.

• There’s something so freeing about being turned loose. Even if you’re sure that if you try to sneak off, you’ll be stopped. But for now, you can just, well not forget, but allow yourself to be distracted. The hall your happy little group has wandered down is quiet and they take turns devouring smaller energon cubes they’d thieved. Snacks maybe? “What happens to a squishy if you ingest energon?” Rumble asks, visor glinting as he studies his cube.

• “A horrific, agonizing death?” You venture, shying away from the brightly colored cube as big as your head that he’s holding out, the contents sloshing. Because finding out the answer to this particular mystery? No, thank you. Anything that pretty was probably very poisonous.

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Might I suggest the Flame Toys Starscream if you don’t mind assembling models, because their builds are lovely.

[glorious-spoon]

hiiii 🥰 buddie and 🤍? - @team-118 <3

hiiii @team-118 and sorry this took FOREVER to get to, lol. have a bit of Buck and Eddie, just before their wedding.

🤍 kiss at the wedding / milestone

The closet door clicks open, and Eddie takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself so that he looks like he was doing something productive, like looking for the missing place cards or maybe the wet vac to deal with the flower vase that tipped over in the entry hall, which probably isn't his job in any case right now, but—just. Something.

"Eddie?" Buck asks, because of course it's Buck. Of course it is. Normally, Buck would be the person he'd like to see most, in pretty much any situation, but not right now. Hen, that'd be okay. Chim. Bobby. Even Maddie—Eddie's got an idea that she might know a little something about the kind of panicky jitters he's experiencing right now.

Not Buck. Not Buck, who's worked so hard to make everything perfect for today, who still sometimes looks at Eddie with big wondering eyes like he thinks this is all going to disappear. Who'll almost definitely think the worst if he catches Eddie hyperventilating in a coat closet twenty minutes before their wedding is supposed to start.

"Yeah," he says anyway, because the closet isn't that deep and he's got maybe five seconds before Buck turns the light on and sees him anyway. "I was looking for… uh. Something."

"Uh huh," Buck says. He steps into the closet, pulling the door shut behind him, enclosing them in darkness. 

"We're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony starts," Eddie points out, but the darkness makes him feel a little better.

"I can't see anything," Buck says. Eddie can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes him smile automatically too, just like it always does. Buck bumps something, stumbles, swears under his breath. "Okay, but seriously, I can't see anything. Where are you?"

Eddie laughs shakily under his breath and reaches out, grasping in the darkness until his hand catches at one of Buck's elbows. "Right here."

"Oh! Hi." Buck shifts into his space, stumbles again, then finds a seat on the overturned crate against the back wall next to Eddie. He smells like fruit-flavored gum and his good cologne, and his body is warm through the faintly rough fabric of his tux. He leans into Eddie's side a little, and Eddie leans back. "So, am I allowed to ask what you're doing back here?"

Eddie groans. "If I told you I was looking for the place cards, would you believe me?"

"No," Buck says, still smiling a little by the sound. His hand finds Eddie's knee, squeezes. "But we can go with that if you want."

"I might be freaking out a little bit," Eddie admits.

"Yeah, I, uh, I kinda guessed that, Eddie."

"It's not because I'm having second thoughts," Eddie says, because that much, at least, he needs Buck to know. "I want to marry you. I can't wait to marry you."

Buck makes a little noise, soft and pleased. His cheek presses against Eddie's for a moment, and Eddie feels his body move as he takes a breath. "But?"

"But I'm afraid I'm going to fuck it up. I don't have a great track record. Or—I don't know. I walked into the garden earlier and it was…"

Beautiful, it was beautiful, the flower-decked arch and the rows of chairs and the sign with both their names on it entwined, it was beautiful, and it was perfect, and it's what Eddie wants more than anything, so it makes no sense that his throat closed up and he scurried away to hide here before anyone could come up and congratulate him.

"I called Maddie last night to freak out on her about how we should just call it all off and stay common law married forever," Buck offers, after Eddie has been silent for a moment.

Eddie laughs, startled. "You did not."

"Oh, I so did."

"Do you want to call it all off?"

"No," Buck says. He's still smiling a little, Eddie can tell. "I'm just scared I'm going to fuck it up."

Abruptly, Eddie starts laughing. He curls in on himself, heaving with it, and feels Buck shake with laughter too. In the darkness, Buck reaches for his hand; in the darkness, Eddie leans into him and feels the tension drain away.

"We could always elope," he offers, after it's finally passed.

"Yeah."

"Your parents would kill you. After what happened with Maddie and Chim's wedding? They'd kill you."

"I don't give a shit about them," Buck says. He presses his mouth to Eddie's hairline. "I'd elope with you. I'd skip our wedding to hide out in a closet with you."

"I love you," Eddie says, and it's at least the thousandth time he's said those words to Buck, but they still feel like an incredible relief; like saying them has finally given him the space he needs to breathe. "I really, really love you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Buck says. He kisses Eddie's forehead again. "I love you too."

"I'm being an idiot."

"Nah." Buck pauses. "Well, maybe a little. But it's okay."

"Thanks," Eddie says. He leans a little more into Buck with a deep sigh, the last of the tension easing from his shoulders. "We should probably get back out there before somebody comes looking for us."

"They can wait," Buck says. "It's not like they can start the wedding without us. We can stay here as long as you want."

"They're definitely going to think that we're having a quickie in here."

"Well…" Buck says thoughtfully. Eddie digs his fingers into his ribs, and he squirms, laughing. "Okay, okay!"

"We can save that for the reception," Eddie says, and Buck laughs harder. "Come on. Let's go."

"Okay." Buck shifts against him, straightening up. "Just one thing first."

Eddie opens his mouth to ask, but then Buck's fingers are on his jaw, a careful guide in the darkness as he leans in and kisses the question off of Eddie's lips. It lingers sweetly for a moment, and they part softly.

"Okay," Eddie says, just as soft, and kisses him again before pulling back. "Okay. Let's go get married."

[t1oui]

going to school and being friends with percy jackson would be REALLY WEIRD so let's discuss it rq

he gets dropped off every day in his stepfather's car, which inexplicably has hoof prints on the hood?

the panic attacks... there's a lot of them, and nobody can even tell what's triggering them at this point

the old counselor disappears about a week into his first year at AHS (here's some cotg lore for yall) and is replaced by a weird lady who finds a way to bring percy up to every. single. student. who visits her office.

randomly disappears multiple times throughout the year

very very sea green eyes and a gray streak in his hair

once got out of the pool after swim practice and was completely dry (he insists it was a trick of the light)

the blue food obsession ofc

talks about his girlfriend annabeth all the time... even his friends are convinced it's a "my canadian girlfriend" situation bc he never calls her. he doesn't even have a PHONE

always carries around a pen in his pocket and even though it's just a shitty old ballpoint, NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT. also he never uses it. ever.

every teacher has sent an email with their concerns about him to the counselor and when that doesn't work to his parents. the responses are always very awkward and vague

talks about his bio dad a lot... never explicitly negative but bro clearly has daddy issues lol

will sometimes randomly mention camp/war/gods and then brush it off like it never happened

absolutely vibrated in his seat the entirety of the greek mythology unit... told the teacher "a demigod named perseus fought ares once" and the teacher just assumes he means the og (aka the one he's named after)

that one upbeat popular guy everybody knows absolutely nothing about, his friends included

they probably have a spreadsheet with all the info they actually DO know about him

finds a way to brag about his mom in every conversation no matter how irrelevant... his friends are used to it atp

everyone's so used to seeing him smiling and laughing that when, say, he catches a younger kid being bullied, it's actually terrifying to see how angry he gets. everybody in that hallway gets chills

there's something off about him and nobody can tell what. that's just how he is

sometimes weird people in weird outfits are hanging around the school and they're ALWAYS looking for him.

every time someone asks what college he's going to he gives a different answer or straight up avoids answering so nobody actually knows

(if he says a school and someone is like "omg me too" he changes his answer right then and there lol... he's like "oh nvm i forgot i'm actually going here my bad" and the person is so confused)

nobody ever sees him working on college applications but he complains about having to do them all the time... bro is like "yeah i had to go through a sewer system but at least my girlfriend and my best friend were there" and his friends are like yo HUH

never explains anything he says

presentation night presentation = all the shittiest things my family has done and he's laughing about it but wdym your aunt kidnapped you and gave you amnesia???

sometimes he's getting fed up with a teacher or another student and a pipe randomly bursts in the school. like it's weird how often his anger ends in a plumber being called when he's nowhere near the problem

where everyone else is excited to watch a movie and chill in class, percy complains through the entirety of hercules - not just "oh this movie sucks", more like "god hercules is such a dick, idk why they made him chill in this movie"

the weirdest part is how, when percy complains about zeus being a good dad in the movie, it starts thundering outside

nobody can keep track of how many schools he's been to at this point... there's a whole section of the spreadsheet for this

when percy's friends finally meet annabeth they are SHOOK bc they truly did not think this girl was real

alright i can't think of anything else but if i DO i will add on later