#took me long enough oml

[mochiiniko]

video game women are so cool

[safflowerisyes]

Okay, so I was looking at @keferon's mecha pilot Jazz au, and I just had to write abt it because oml the angst

Also, keep in mind I haven written anything in a very long time

Prowl was still having a hard time wrapping his processor around it. His emotions were a hurricane of confusion, rage, and betrayal. As he stared down at the organic infront of him, he couldn’t help the deep frown that formed on his faceplates.

“I guess this is a lot for you, huh Prowler?”

The organic stared back up at him with an apologetic smile. It rubbed the back of its neck awkwardly. Jazz was never awkward. At least, not that Prowl could tell. Though, it wasn’t like Jazz had an EM field to show that.

“A human, you said?”

Prowl needed to hear it again to believe it. There was no way this tiny little bag of flesh had been controlling Jazz. No way it had been Jazz.

The organic nodded. “Yeah. I know it’s probably very confusing, but imagine my confusion when I found out you were all actually sentient mechs, not pilots in mecha suits.”

This was indeed all very confusing, and yet it also made a little too much sense. It explained why Jazz had always felt so… hollow.

Prowl scoffed at the organic’s words. The implication that he was just some lifeless suit to be worn was insulting in the very least.

The organic seemed to recognize Prowl’s disdain, quickly revising his previous statement, “But that makes so much sense now! It makes sense why you’re so expressive, and how you have all these little ticks and habits. Like whenever you’re flustered your wings turn forwards a little.”

It noticed? The organic took notice of his mannerisms. That would imply that it cared enough to pay attention to those things. Well… Prowl knew Jazz cared enough to notice those things, but this organic, this human…

It made Prowl think. Think of something other than the fact that his crush friend had just opened up, and a small organic crawled out of said friend’s chassis.

“Prowl. It’s still me. It’s still Jazz. I’m just… smaller.”

The organic was giving him a hopeful smile, its voice soft as if comforting a close friend. It made Prowl’s spark melt. A part of him wanted to take the small organic and hold it in his embrace for all eternity. He just wanted Jazz back.

But the other part of him wanted to squeeze the organic till it popped. He just wanted Jazz back.

Prowl glared at the organic, and its smile faltered. This sent a pang of hurt through Prowl, but he ignored the aching in his spark.

He turned to walk away. Being there talking to it wouldn’t make things go back to how they were. Things would never go back to how they were.

“Prowl, wait!”

Prowl turns to see the organic running after him. It gets to the edge of the table and tries to stop, but it’s going too fast. It stumbles, loses balance, and falls.

But Prowl is quick, and catches the tiny being in his servos. His expression is that of fear. He felt like he was about to lose Jazz. Again.

The organic smiles. “So you do care about me.”

Prowl’s expression swiftly turns to annoyance. But… the organic did have a point, he had to admit.

Prowl began to look at the organic differently. Instead of being the parasite that crawled out of Jazz’s chassis, it was now what remained of said mech.

And maybe… just maybe… Prowl could get used to him.

[hitomisuzuya]

stepcest, DNI if it makes you uncomfortable, please. scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. biting. blowjob. cunnilingus. riding. creampie. consensual recorded masturbation. squirting. degradation. praise. breeding kink. mix of harsh dom! scara and soft dom! scara.

oml the poll was so so close. i plan to write both. this is long and kinda a mess, ngl 😭😳

this week, having a lost a bet during a video game, you would be serving as scaramouche's sex slave. his personal fuck toy to cum inside and use whenever he pleased. not like you weren't already, but this added a degree of dominance over you that scaramouche particularly enjoys.

he also knew showing dominance over you sexually was relaxing to you. he more than knew that you are going to enjoy yourself as much as he is.

monday

once the moms left for a week long business trip, he put you on your back on his bed, naked with your legs spread. he held your wrists above your head and played with your pussy until you squirmed from the harsh throbbing in your clit.

your body is twitching as your sensitive walls clenched around nothing. "please," you moaned shakily, bucking your hips up to grind your puffy pussy on his fingers, "i can't take it anymore. i need your fingers, scara," he'd been working your pussy over in a way that made you lose all sense of time, building your orgasm up agonizingly slow. your hole clenched with the need for his fingers to be fucking inside of you.

"do you really think you are in a position to make demands?" scaramouche delivered a wet smack to your clit. your legs trembled as you cried out, shards of white hot pleasure practically piercing your core. "remember your place this week, slut," he hissed.

his cock got harder from the sheer rush of denying you the pleasure of cumming on his fingers. letting go of your wrists, scaramouche sat up and took out his phone. "be a good girl and touch yourself while you beg like a whore for your stepbrother's fingers."

your cheeks flushed hearing domineering tone in his voice. bringing the perfect view of you spreading your legs wider on his phone screen, he pressed record. he licked his lips watching you part your folds, your creamy cunt on display for him.

he stroked and fisted his cock watching you tease and rub your clit. "cry about how badly you want me to make you cum," he groaned, taking care to hold his phone steady to capture your little fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. he knew your small fingers were barely long enough to reach your sweet spot.

"i..i can't make myself cum," you whimpered, your clit throbbing as you pinched and rubbed it. your other hand drifts up to pinch your nipples for extra stimulation. "please, help me. i need your help to cum."

scaramouche's cock emptied itself onto your chest and stomach. on the nights he absolutely couldn't have you, this recording was going to serve him well.

tuesday

yesterday had been all about denying you. today however, was different. scaramouche wasn't going to stop until he had you cumming hard on his tongue as it lapped and sucked hungrily on your pussy. multiple times. he needed to taste how good he is tongue fucking you.

"more," you sobbed after cumming on his tongue a second time. or at least you thought it was your second time. scaramouche sucked an orgasm out of you so strong that it made you squirt. he dearly loved the embarrassed flush on your cheeks. "please, please more," you moaned, hiccuping softly.

you were so drunk on his tongue that you were senseless.

"shh, it's okay, kitten. i'll take care of you," he groaned as you desperately grind your pussy on his tongue. "just keep crying for me just like that," he held your cunt against his mouth, his tongue lapping every sensitive crevice. he focused sucks on your clit, holding you still as you squirm and mewl and pleasure.

wednesday

scaramouche threw his head back, unable to swallow his moans. you look so breathtaking bouncing on his cock, your pussy sucking him in as your thighs smacked against his. he folded his hands over your bouncing breasts, tweeking and rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers. "bounce on my fucking cock like the slut you are. don't you dare look away from me," he commanded, taking one hand off your breast to grope and smack your ass.

you cried out as his cock head bullied relentlessly into your sweet spot, your thighs burning from the effort. "so..big," you whimpered, your back arching as his length stretched you apart so perfectly it took your breath away. "my stepbrother's cock is so big," your pussy clutched tight around his cock from his harsh degradation, your eyes filled with watery adoration.

"fucking keep talking, whore," you mewl from the sting of his hand on your ass again. "beg for your stepbrother to breed you," his cock throbbed realizing how deep he was fucking up into you, thrusting harshly up into you.

"breed me! breed me! i won't waste a drop of your cum, i promise," you plead pathetically, desperately chasing your high. his hands settle on a bruising grip on your hips, compelled to control your pace and bounce you dumb on his cock.

your cries for him to cum inside you never sounded sweeter.

thursday

your mouth was the definition of sinfully erotic, lips wrapped around his cock and sucking wetly. drool pooled from the corners of your mouth, your warm tongue lapping and curling in worship as he fucked his cock into your oh so pliable throat.

you cough, gagging as he pushed his cock into your throat. it felt like fucking heaven spasming and convulsing. "good girl, choking on my dick like a pro," he stroked his fingers lovingly through your hair, holding your mouth down on his cock as you adjusted your breathing.

any praise from your stepbrother, however degrading made your eyes light up. you muffled a moan on his cock, your sucks turning more eager. scaramouche laughed shakily, using your hair to bob your mouth up and down on his cock. "look at you, soaking up my praise like a needy slut," he hissed, his cock roping salty cum into your mouth. you swallow with his cock still in your mouth like a good girl.

friday and saturday

scaramouche fucked you harsh and unforgiving over the next two days. he is feral, not satisfied until his cum was seeping from your hole as fucked into you from behind. it was almost embarrassing how unholy the squelching sounded. "fuck, i am cumming again," he moans before his cock abruptly emptied inside of you. "be a good slut and let me breed you fuller."

pulling out, he flipped you over onto your back, wasting no time in stuffing your pretty, abused cunt full with his cock again. your moans tinged with sobs as he relentlessly drove his cock home into your sweet spot. pleasure has gone past completely consuming you, having fallen so dumb on his cock that all you could do was moan shamelessly.

scaramouche allowed himself to indulge in a rare treat. he'd just gotten off the phone with his mom, being told something has come up and they needed to stay an extra week. he sank his teeth into your flesh, holding you down while he sucked and bit dark, possessive bruises on your skin. bruises that could take their time healing without the stress of an explanation over the next week or so.

his teeth sucking and biting at your skin made you cum harder, his drool rolling down your neck as the dull, delicious ache of bruises blossom. he wasn't going to stop until his precious, delicate little step sister was all marked up.

sunday

the way scaramouche fucked you was leagues different from how he had all week. you'd been such a good girl for him, submitting to every whim and happily letting him enjoy himself. he knew you were sore and tired. his touches are soft, his lips and tongue soothing your inflamed, heavily bruised skin. he took his time, fucking you nice and slow. his kisses deep and open mouthed, stealing your breath from your lungs.

"do you realize how in love with you i am?" he babbled, slowly stretching you apart. he kissed you softly, gently nipping at your lips. he held you as you shook as his kissed deep into your sweet spot. "my good girl, my sweet girl. being so fucking good for me all week."

you rock your hips up to match his rhythm, clinging to him in the way he always enjoys. he gently stopped the motion of your hips. "let me do all the work, pretty. you just relax and enjoy yourself," you worked so hard pleasing him all week. you more than deserve this.

"p-promise you'll cum inside," you whimpered, relaxing underneath him. you could feel how genuinely he is in love with you while he fucked you. he took great care to pump his cock into your sweet spot slow and steady.

"remember what i said about making demands," he teased, playfully kissing your lips. this week has been all about his pleasure first. now it was about yours. you are going to cum at least twice before he filled you. "what do you say we continue this another week?" he caressed your cheek, stroking his thumb tenderly across it. "i still have plans."

of course you nod, turning your cheek into his hand.

[workingbynyx]

Hi! I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing headcanons of Jason Todd as the reader's boyfriend? Probably like the general dynamic of the relationship, love language, etc. Whatever you think goes best! :)

of course! i can finally use my hcs of boyfie jason to good use oml i have so much in store for you loves 😚

(this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and now that its almost v-day i think its pretty fitting to post this <3 also pls remember that these are my personal hcs so some may be entirely ooc but this is how i imagine him to be okay 😭)

Very affectionate behind closed doors

Jason wasn't a very clingy person to begin with. in fact the first time you held hands you swore you saw drops of sweat drip down the side of his face, it's hilarious. it took him a while to get around giving physical affection but once he did, hugs and kisses are non-stop. he'll either give you quick or aggressive but gentle kisses or would simply ask you to climb onto him on your shared bed and lay your head on his chest as he sleeps. he'd search for your hand and give it a squeeze when the both of you are in a big crowd (ex; galas, parties) or just rest his hand on the small of your back— as intimidating he might seem, he's just a big baby in your hands.

A pretty decent cook, to say the least

Could be an unpopular opinion but i'd say Jason isn't all too bad in the kitchen, he can pretty much fix up a simple meal if he wants to. The man could either fuck up the microwave or invent a whole new recipe just to fit your cravings, there's no in between. He doesn't want to admit it but he has a secret folder in his phone of all the recipes to your favourite dishes from lunch meals to deserts; so now on every occassion, you can expect waking up to the fresh scent of your favourite food set on the table <3

Midnight joyrides are the best

Do y'all know those tiktok accs that own a motorbike and just drive around with their partners sitting behind them? That's exactly how i imagine what it would be like to be Jason's partner 👊👊 literally like; "bubs put on your helmet" "are we going out? at this time?" "what, you don't want to?" "well, yeah i do..." "good, i'll have the bike out front then" then you guys just drive around on his bigass bike zooming through the city. He'd also have his hands run down your leg that's straddling him from behind at every stoplight possible wkehwjhejwhd

Getting out of bed is almost impossible

The first time you two moved in together was really exciting, waking up finding yourself beside the love of your life sleeping peacefully to eating breakfast and dinner with them too. But as time went by, it became almost your mission everyday to get out of bed without being held back by Jason pulling you back under the sheets. You'd have to be sneaky to move his arm that's wrapped around your waist before his reflexes react soon enough; "mmh, going somewhere?" "jay, i gotta get to work" "10 more minutes love, i promise. I'll just drive you there it's much faster" "you said that 5 minutes ago— i'll be late again!" "are you saying you'd rather leave me alone?" "jace i–" "mhm exactly, so stay a'ight? you could just tell them you caught that flu" "i already did...two days ago..."

Absolutely adores your eyes, hands and waist

I'm a firm believer that Jason is a certified waist-grabber !!! you can expect the rough tips of his gloves glide over from your back all the way to your waist once he comes home from work. He also looooves looking into your eyes and see his reflection in them, the same eyes that showed nothing but pure love and kindness to him. And he also likes your hands; the size difference when you compare them, how they wrapped around his own, and how they cling onto him every chance you get. He thinks it's such a cute mannerism (if you have them too)

He asks for fashion advice, sometimes

Jason'll probably throw on a shirt, jacket, pants and boots then call it day before he met you— but he's even conscious of how colors looked on him now. You were his stylist, often picking out clothes and giving him new looks that you think looks best on him just because he once saw a photo of him and thought the shirt and pants he had didn't match at all. Jason always thought clothes only consists of hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, but now even knows what 'preppy' clothing is after you explained it to him.

His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch

This may vary to some people but i do hc Jason's love language to be words of affirmation and physical touch. Words of affirmation; only because he absolutely loves it when he tells you what he genuinely thinks of you at the moment. "You look great in red", "i'm proud of what you did there", "i love you, y'know that right?", "you look so gorgeous, i'm lucky to have you" and physical touch; because he's totally convinced he can't live without you by his side. Jason would want to be next or near you at any given chance, he'll have you scooted beside him while he reads a book or gently rub his hand against your thigh when he's focused on a movie. Your presence alone gives him the comfort he's always longing for in nights that he's away from home, and you'd glady give it to him.

Very protective over you

It's probably a known fact that Jason is a protective person but when it comes to you he can be over the top in making sure you're okay (especially when you're also a vigilante/hero working with him.) You'll always have to assure him that you're fine and not bleeding to death with a papercut or when you accidentlly stub your toe against the bed. But when you're also a crime-fighter like him, best believe he'll always have you stay and guarded behind him. You had to explain so many times that you could also take care of yourself like he can, though it's understandable why he acts that way most of the time.

Acts all tough, but melts when you're around

Around the times when Jason still had a lil crush on you, he'd never let his guard down and likes to appear cold or tough. But once you were dating he's an absolute shy babe even with the smallest gestures or compliments you give him. He'd only crack a smile at the side comments you make but is mentally falling apart. Or when he can't keep up the act he simply dips his head in the corner of your neck and stay there til he stops blushing like a teen getting his first kiss.

Is a part of the sassy man apocalypse

Sometimes, you question if this man is simply your bestfriend or your boyfriend of how many years. The amount of bickering the two of you end up having is like watching two friends fight over peanut butter vs chocolate. You'd suggest a book you've been reading that he absolutely despises and have a debate right there and then. It's almost like that one Friends scene when Joey and Rachel were giving spoilers back to back at each other LMAO. The man also has an unhealthy habit of popping a hip whenever he stands, your gallery would probably be filled with pictures of him in that stance alone.

[chuulyssa]

​🇭​​ 🇴 ​​🇲 ​​🇪​​ 🇼​​ 🇴 ​​🇷 ​​🇰​ .

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴀɢᴀᴍɪ !

↷ A/N ─ the long-awaited full ver of this drabble is here! will proofread this tomorrow oml it's 3am here again

★ COUNT ─ 1.3k

!! TAGS ─ light x reader, pre-kira!light, gn!reader, oral (m receiving), deep throating, slight (?) exhibitionism

★ PROLOGUE ─ giving your boyfriend head under the desk while he studies

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The two of you were walking back home after school, neither of you speaking a word as you went on in silence. It was like a silent agreement that you would go to his house today instead of yours. After all, pissed as you were, academic stress did not help in uplifting your mood. Luckily, you knew just the way to relieve your worries while also getting your assignments done - and so did Light.

"Hello, dear," his mother greeted you warmly. "I assume he's tutoring you again? I sure hope he isn't too harsh on you."

"It's alright, Mrs Yagami," you smiled back at her, inwardly elated at the fact that some day the title you called her would belong to you.

"I don't understand, dear," she continued, "why do you need tutions from him in the first place? I mean, you do quite well as it is."

"I don't mind it," Light interrupted her before going up to his room.

You took off your shoes and shot her another kind smile before following your boyfriend. Behind you, you could hear Mrs Yagami mumble, "Kids these days."

The door shut behind you. Light immediately kept his bag in a corner and sat down on his chair. You looked at him with a bored expression.

"Already? You're not taking the 'tutoring' part seriously, now, are you?"

"Well, I have to," he said, taking out his Maths notebook and pen. "Your mother-in-law has entrusted me with this task."

You rolled your eyes.

"I don't study."

"I do," he shrugged. "And so, you must too."

"Nah," you flopped on his bed in a starfish position. "I'm going to catch some sleep."

"No, you aren't," Light said firmly and got up to hold you by your arms. He dragged you towards the table, pulling out a chair for you to sit near the desk so that you could keep up with his lessons.

"I'm not studying with you," you scoffed.

Light stared at you for some time before muttering, "Fine. You know what? Fine. Go to hell."

You chuckled and he shot you a petty glare. Opening his notebook, he started solving questions rapidly, not sparing you even a single glance and pretending as if you were as good as part of the wall.

You sat there doodling on a spare book you found. Your chin was on the table, and you were rethinking your decision to come to his house. With a sigh, you realized that you'd have been sleeping soundly in your cozy bed right now had you gone to your own house.

After a few minutes, you saw Light's pen slow down a little and an irritable look on his face.

"Y/N, look, if you can't make yourself useful, then you might as well go home. Seriously."

"What?"

"I said go home."

You blinked in confusion. Useful? Like how? You looked out of the window thinking of excuses to stay in his room. It may not have occurred to you then, but you really did want to stay in his company after all.

And then you got a brilliant idea. Of course! It'd help both you and him destress, and probably leave him flustered enough to do your homework as well. You could-

"Give you a blowjob," you repeated your suggestion to him while he looked at you with wide eyes.

"...Y/N-"

But you cut him off by pushing the chair you were sitting on away and dropping to your knees. He looked at you with a bewildered expression as you fumbled with his belt, desperate to free his obviously strained erection.

"Really, now?" you said in a mocking tone. "Already? I didn't even do anything yet!"

"Well, if you're gonna sit there looking like that, this is bound to happen."

"You could've been subtle about it though," you pushed the chair away to get a clear view and comfortable access to his cock.

"Wait, you're serious about this?"

"Um, yeah?"

"But what if someone heard us?" He protested. "My parents are down there. Heck, Sayu is down there! This is not a sound proof room, we're gonna get c- ah!"

You cut him off with a little lick to the top of his cock. With your right hand you gripped his base and lowered yourself to him.

"Say it again," you said with an amused smile on your face, lips pressed against his dick. "Let me hear your pretty voice."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he slowly reached out to dig his fingers inside your hair giving you the consent you were looking for.

"Thats a good boy," you whispered, making him shiver as your warm breath breezed his cock.

Your grip on his dick tightened ever so slightly as you got ready to suck him. His fingers were tangled in your hair while his other hand tried it's best to solve the math equations for his assignments.

You licked the tip again. Light's hips jerked upwards but you pushed him down with all your might.

"Stop teasing," he breathed, looking away as if to hide his fluster.

You rolled your eyes before finally taking him, inch by inch, inside your mouth. You felt your lips stretching to accommodate his thick dick. It was an uncomfortable experience, but the little grunts that escaped your boyfriend made it worth the pain.

As your lips hit his base, you felt your saliva drooling over his cock, and immediately lifted your head back up, just to take him entirely again.

Light groaned. You tried to smile, but your work was more important. You bobbed your head up and down his dick, occasionally tracing his balls with the tips of your fingers.

"Oh god, no, what if someone sees us," Light said between moans of pleasure. "But, baby, please don't stop now."

You lifted your head completely to look him in the eye. He whined at the lost contact, and tried to push you back.

"Did you lock the door?" You said with an annoyed huff.

"Fuck, no, let me-"

You gave his dick a few pumps to stop him.

"Too late now. I guess everyone's watching Light Yagami groan and come all over his study table."

Light widened his eyes, which was a struggle considering your soft hands manipulating his movements.

You laughed at his pathetic state before taking him in again. You bobbed your head up and down, tapping his inner thigh in a rhythm.

Under your touch, meanwhile, Light was a whimpering, moaning mess. One hand was still in your hair while the other hand completely abandoned his futile efforts of doing his assignment and now lay scratching his table.

"Oh, oh god, oh fuck, yout ake me in so well," he threw his head back with pleasure. "More, more. God, i think I'm coming already."

At this, you gave him a smug look and pushed your head down on his cock until it hit your throat. Your eyes watered, but you didn't let it ruin the moment. Light almost let out a loud cry, both his hands attempting to muffle his voice as if on cue.

You choked and gagged, while he groaned and kicked his legs in the air.

"Fuck, fuck, shit, shit, I'm coming."

Your nails dug into his thighs to form crescent moons as he emptied his cum into your throat, careful not to let any of it spill on the ground or on the chair - anywhere his mom or sister could examine and catch him red handed. After making sure to take all of it in, you finally lifted your head up, licking his entire dick in one, long stroke before licking your lips and winking at him.

Light groaned at the smirk on your face.

"You're such a bad influence. Bad influence on the perfect Light Yagami."

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tagging: @zharickmedrano

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© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[slxtmeri]

Chucklers after you get back from a long trip. Them just welcoming you back and all the things they would get or do for you, sfw and nsfw... just an idea I've had on my mind...

ANON I LOVE YOU THIS IDEA TYSM

ted

sfw

♡ as soon as he sees you when you come home, he's running up to you and giving you the biggest hug oml. hands are around your waist, lifting you up, not wanting to let go. (and he doesn't, for at least a good minute or two).

♡ kisses all over your face and neck until you're blushing and giggling, squealing for him to stop

♡ carries all your luggage and REFUSES to let you help with any

"nope, nope, put that down. i can handle this stuff, baby! let me help you, love."

♡ constantly touching you, hand on your waist, arm around your shoulder, holding your hand. he missed you so much while you were gone

nsfw

♡ as soon as your stuff is inside, he carries you to the bedroom, your legs wrapped around his waist

♡ he lays you down on the bed, still kissing you. his mouth trails lower, and lower, until his head is settled between your legs

♡ eats you out like it's his last meal, your hands gripping his hair motivate him to keep going

♡ makes you come undone several times, until tears of pleasure are pricking at your eyes and you're too fucked out to form a coherent sentence.

♡ cuddles you until you both fall asleep. expect him to fuck you senseless the next day

schlatt

sfw

♡ picks you up from the airport and twirls you around until you're both dizzy.

♡ can't stop smiling. there's a shit eating grin on his face for the next 24 hours at LEAST

♡ doesn't stop talking about how much he and the cats missed you.

♡ hand on your thigh on the drive home, rubbing comforting circles

♡ stops to get you your favorite food on the way home, he just wants to spoil you

nsfw

♡ as soon as the two of you arrive home, he's bending you over the nearest surface. whether it be the kitchen island, the couch, it doesn't matter. he's so needy for you

♡ teases you until you're wet enough to take him. then he's fucking you until you can't stand

♡ praises you so so much more than usual.

"fuck, baby. you're so perfect for me, hmm? letting daddy fuck you as soon as you get back. my sweet baby."

♡ takes a bath with you afterwards. cleans you up all nice then carries you to bed <3

charlie

sfw

♡ gets so excited when he sees you, he hugs you so tight you have to tell him to calm down

"charlie, i missed you too. can barely breathe, baby."

"shit... sorry sweetheart, i just missed you a lot."

♡ as soon as you get home he's giving you presents that he bought for your return. probably orders your favorite takeout, too.

♡ repeats how much he missed you, how he wishes you were there for the things he did whil you were away

♡ asks for any and all photos you took during your trip

nsfw

♡ he practically drags you to the bedroom after you two finish eating

♡ begs for you, saying how much he needed you

"s'been too long, baby. please let me fuck you, please."

♡ hickeys all over your neck. he's not even thinking about how you two have to meet up with friends the next day

♡ you end up riding him, rolling your eyes at the friction you havent had since before you left

♡ once you get too tired, he's gripping your hips and fucking up into you.

"that's it, baby. so so good, my love, fuck."

♡ stays inside you for a few minutes, hugging you, savoring your time together.

♡ picks you up and carries you to the shower, cleaning you up before bringing you to the couch for a nice long movie

a/n: holy shit i got carried away. the brainrot is real 😭 anyways ily anon, enjoy!!!

[etherealstar-writes]

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 10

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: ten

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

liked by alessiarusso99, leahwilliamsonn and 4000 others

yourusername: feeling unmotivated to do anything today 😔

niamhcharles: heyyy

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alessiarusso99: hey y/n <33

lottewubbenmoy: ❤️❤️

user1: anyone know who she is and why the whole team is suddenly here?

stanwaygeorgia: hellooo

leahwilliamsonn: hey ❤️

user2: what the hell is happening here?

chloekelly: i don't think i've ever spoken to you but i've been told to comment and say hi ↳ user3: help this comment 😭😭

danisterling: bestie .... why is the whole england team commenting on your post .... ↳ yourusername: well you see ....

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

It has been a day since you'd left the group chat and you had no idea what to do. You felt as though you might have overreacted a bit by leaving, but also at the same time the embarrassment of having talked about them without knowing it was them kinda balanced that and you'd freaked out.

But also, you understood their side. Like if you were a celebrity, you wouldn't really just straight up tell a random stranger you accidentally added to your chat who you were.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face in your pillow. Your phone was tossed somewhere on your bed and was continuously buzzing with notifications. You knew exactly why, and with a sigh, you grabbed your phone.

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM elton added the imposter aka y/n ♥︎

elton y/n pleaseee don't leave

willybum at least hear us out

the REAL karate kid y/n?

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

stairway

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ fine .... i'm listening

the REAL karate kid we're incredibly sorry for not telling you who we were we were planning to after the euros but we just didn't know how

willybum yeah we didn't want you to freak out

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ well i FREAKED OUT incredibly after figuring it out myself!!

elton i'm kinda proud of you for finally figuring it out ngl took ya long enough

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ i hate you i'm leaving

elton

the imposter aka y/n ❤️

neev ......

stairway so um ... you're not mad at us anymore 🥺🙏

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ i was never really mad at you guys tbh kinda hurt yeah but i completely understand why you never told me honestly i just completely freaked out and was embarrassed over the fact that i was an idiot to not figure it out sooner so in a mix of annoyance and embarrassment panic i kinda just left? sorryyyy

lotte nooo, don't be sorry your reaction was completely understandable we're the ones truly sorry once again

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ stop it you guysss it's all good

willybum it's not gonna be weird now that you know us yeah?

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ nahhhh y'all are still my favourite stalkers <33

elton OML y/n we're not stalkers!!

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ shore shore whatever you say my fav stalkers :)

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

sorry for being unactive for the past whole week, been really busy, but i hope this short chapter makes up for it <33

more chaotic chapters are yet to come :)

part eleven here

[simpforboys]

hey babe!!

i was thinking maybe protective!gf!reader x rafe, where they’re at the kegger together and a random girl starts clinging onto rafe, not knowing you’re his girlfriend and reader throws some punches

i live for protective reader oml🙇🏻‍♀️

learn your place

rafe cameron x fem!pogue!reader

summary: you teach a kook girl her place.

warnings: swearing, violence, fluff, rafe is proud af

sorry this took forever </3, also not proof read

the way your stomach turned over when you walked into the kegger with your long-term boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, was enough to shoot some red flags.

hundreds of kooks were on the Lighthouse Preserve, dozens of red solo cups littered onto the sand.

you were the only pogue who came to these parties, not really because you wanted to, but because Rafe had asked.

and unfortunately, whenever those baby-blue eyes looked pleadingly at you, you always seemed to cave.

“what’s up, Cameron?” Topper asked loudly, dapping up Rafe as you stood beside your tall boyfriend.

Kelce did the same to Rafe, before turning to give you a side-hug. “hey, future Mrs. Cameron.”

you playfully rolled your eyes at the nickname. “yeah yeah, shut up.”

you felt Rafe’s fingers interlock yours, pulling you into his side. more people came over to greet you, and the stares some of the kook girls were giving you were a nightmare.

you didn’t want to be one of them, and maybe that’s why they hated you so much. and maybe the fact you were dating the ‘Kook Prince’.

“let’s go get a drink.” Rafe said to you, holding you close to him as he walked over to the keg, supervised by some other guys you’ve never seen before.

as they pour you and Rafe a drink, you narrow your eyes at a short blonde who is drunkenly giggling at Rafe.

the sparkle in her blue eyes almost made you sick. you felt Rafe’s grip tighten around your waist, kissing your temple as he mumbled into your ear, “relax, baby. you look like you’re gonna kill someone.”

while you knew he was joking, you pressed your lips together and began to chug the beer.

➽───────────────────❥

a few hours later, you wandered around trying to find a bathroom. Rafe wanted to go with you, but you insisted that you were a big girl.

you finally found a little outhouse. after a couple moments, you walked back to the party, desperate to find hand sanitizer.

one of the only nice girls, Lizzie, happened to have cherry scented sanitizer. while you rubbed the liquid into your palms, your eyes looked around for your boyfriend.

the same blonde girl from earlier was holding onto his muscled bicep, trying to get his attention. the poor girl looked desperate, as Rafe wasn’t even acknowledging she was there.

Topper and Kelce looked uncomfortable, knowing all too well of your protectiveness of Rafe, and how badly you were going to kick the shit out of this chick.

“you can’t find any other guys to hang onto? or do you look for specifically taken ones?” your voice sent goosebumps down her tan skin as she drunkenly stared at you.

“excuse you?” she asked, trying to raise her voice, one that sounded almost babyish.

“i know my boyfriend is hot, but girl if you think holding onto him is going to catch his attention then you’re damn wrong.” you snapped, your blood boiling from her ‘pick me’ behavior.

“Rafey- this crazy girl is trying to fight me.” the girl looked up at Rafe, a forced pout on her face. you cringed at the nickname she gave your man.

Rafe just now seemed to be aware of the situation, as he tugged the girl off of him. “who the fuck is Rafey?” he laughed, his eyes shining as he turned his head to look at you.

you looked exactly like how he described earlier, like you were going to kill someone.

Topper and Kelce immediately downed their beers, knowing what was going to happen next. and while Rafe did too, he didn’t really care too much to stop it.

“you’re going to pick some… poor slut over me!” the girl whined, stomping her foot.

Rafe’s jaw dropped slightly, but before he could defend you, you had already shot your fist forward.

a loud crack was heard as your knuckles came in contact with her nose, shattering the bone. people from around moved into a circle, some recording as you moved forward again.

blood was gushing down from her nose, tears pouring from her eyes as you pushed her backwards.

rage filled your body, the alcohol pumping pure adrenaline through your system as you straddled her, throwing punch after punch onto her face.

your head was ringing, and you barely felt Rafe’s arms scoop you up. you kicked out, kicking the girl in the boob. you managed to get out of Rafe’s grasp.

“how’s that for a poor slut, huh? stay away from my man, bitch!” you shout, impulsively spitting on the girl as Rafe grabbed you once more.

“alright, baby. this isn’t Jersey Shore.” Rafe joked, pulling your body into his. your head rested against his chest, hearing his pounding heartbeat.

your own heartbeat matched his, the adrenaline beginning to wear off. you recognized the aching in your hands, your knuckles bruised and bloody.

Rafe helped you onto the little speedboat you two arrived in, turning the engine on. while Rafe was silent, you sat on the couch with your head in your hands.

your head ached with a migraine. the loud sound of the motor wasn’t exactly helpful, either.

the ride home was silent, except for the sound of the motor against the water. when Rafe pulled up to your dock, he tied off the boat.

“let’s get my girl cleaned up.”

Rafe said gently, walking in front of you. he opened the door to your run-down house, knowing where the first aid kit is.

there’s been multiple occasions of either you or Rafe getting into fights, so it became routine for the both of you.

as you put the toilet seat down, you sat on the lid as Rafe sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“damn, y/n. you might’ve broken a knuckle.”

Rafe comments, cleaning the blood up with rubbing alcohol. you hissed at the sting, shaking your leg. the motion caused his leg to shake too, before he trapped your legs between his thighs.

“stop moving, mama. let me take care of you.”

his words were gentle, soft. as he put gauze and bandages over your knuckles, you followed him into the kitchen where he grabbed two bags of frozen peas.

he placed them gingerly on your bones, careful not to hurt you.

“i’m sorry i hit her. so many fucking times…” you mumble.

Rafe lets out a soft chuckle, kissing your forehead.

“when will these kook girls learn their place?” he jokes, making you smile as you kissed his lips feverishly.

[fire-lizard-ro]

Hi Roro, hope you’re doing well! Let me start by saying your Sunday stuff is MAGNIFICENT, oh my gosh this MAN-

I’ve come with a request for you…

Dr. Veritas Ratio x fem or gn reader. Bathtub. Sex. Like most of the time he’s only interested in reading in the tub, rejecting reader’s advances. But one day, idk, he’s in a MOOD but he doesn’t want to admit it, so he lets reader go a little further than normal with her advances, but he’s still being petty about it, kinda denying and still trying to read his book or whatever and it just Escalates eventually…

Aaaa thank you so much if you decide to do my request! Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated!

I'm ILL over this man jfc-

Dr. Ratio here to prescribe you with a dose of vitamin D-//SHOT

Veri, my love, please just one chance I'm begging just a crumb oisego-

But yesssss gimme the bathtube sex I want it- I wanna do all kinds of wild things to or with this man. Crazy.

But hehehe I know what you are. 👁️👁️

A s i m p . 🫵 (Like I'm any better.)

And thank you!!! This took a While, but I did it. I had lots of fun with it so feel free to request again~

CW and writing under the cut:

CW: vagina and cock (gasp), PIV sex, cockwarming, rough sex, hair pulling, choking (+some breath play), cumming inside (wrap it before you tap it folks), spanking, degradation+praise, objectification, kinda sorta human furniture thing???, name calling (ex:slut), use of words like "cunt" (wow that feels weird writing here-), marking, ignoring you during cockwarming, doggy position(?), cum play, holding your hands behind your back, discussion of safe wording (check-ins), kinda cum as lube?, funishment, d/s aspects to the relationship (though you are dating for romantic reasons as well), slight pussy slapping, talking to your pussy (I know this man a freak <333), crying during sex (+dacryphilia), dumbification (ofc this was gonna be here), ruined orgasm, edging, slight cum eating, a liiiiittle bit of gagging (w/ fingers), usage of "pet" exactly once

Reader gender: fem (I talked with anon separately and they decided on this when I asked for preference- I also only have one fem reader ask. If people want, I can write another version tweaked to be gn or AMAB/male reader~)

Disclaimers:

>>>Dr. Ratio will be referred to as Veritas here since reader is dating him.

>>>This was written and almost finished before 1.6 release.

Bathtub sex, surprisingly, probably isn't the norm for you two. After all, Veritas (oml it feels weird calling him that after so long of calling him Ratio-) enjoys his down time in the bath where he can relax with you and read his books. I like to think that it's one of the few times when his ever racing mind is a bit quieter. So when you are finally pent up enough at just the right time to want to pounce on him in the tub, he's a bit surpised at first. But the surprise would soon melt into mild annoyance. "Can't you just stay still? Quit it- I'm trying to read."

Of course he says it in that ever dramatic way of his while not even glancing up from his book. Speaking of said book- "You're going to get my book wet, darling-" (Yes, he's a "darling" kind of guy. It's sophisticated as he is. And you know he'd say it with that drawl of his and drag the word out. Sometimes in those more intimate moments, it sounds almost like a sultry purr with the way he says it, commanding all your attention.) "And if you do that, you know I'm going to have to punish you, hm?" You almost want it if it means he'd touch you where you want him, but you know that his punishments aren't necessarily fun. Yet still you like them all the same.

(They're more of funishments than punishments in this case- Please do know that funishments and punishments aren't the same, my dear little kinksters~ Since the reader actually enjoys these "punishments" a lot and they are done for their and Veritas' mutual gratification, it's a funishment. These are normally for bratting behavior while actual punishments are for serious things and are meant to actually discourage the behavior that earned you the punishment. Hopefully I explanied it well, lololol-)

But of course you continue to try and rouse his interest, touching him here and there. It reaches the point where you manage to wiggle your way between his arms, in front of his book. Not only does this block his view, but you're dripping water all over his book! (It was all of one or two droplets.) If you listened close enough, you'd probably have heard the sound of his reason breaking in that moment. Like you had poked a sleeping bear one too many times. (And some little part of himself that knew it was also partly because he also was getting into a mood was squashed. Of course it was just because you needed to be disciplined.)

"That's it. You want my attention, darling? Well now you have it.” There was something dark in his voice that sent a shiver down your back and made your nethers tingle in anticipation. He snapped the book closed and set it on the table by the bathtub almost gently, a stark contrast between how his voice sounded and how he was looking at you. He'd tilt his head and consider you, seemingly thinking about how best to punish you for your transgressions. "Hands on my shoulders and do not move them. Color?" Veritas was launching right into it, huh? "Green." "Good."

With hands on his strong shoulders, you watched him with eyes darting around his form to try and figure out what he'd do. Your question was answered by a hand gripping your hip and another dragging down between your breasts, then over your belly, then stopping on your mound. He didn't move any lower, fingers thrumming there just above where you wanted him. Teasing. "I can see your cunt drooling from here. Was she just so hungry that you couldn't be good and hold it until we were out of the tub?" Heat bloomed in your cheeks as he spoke. "Should I punish her? Hm?" Veritas gave your wetness a few light slaps, just enough to make you jolt but not enough to do more than just barely sting. "No- It isn't her fault she's so empty and wanting. But it is your fault that you couldn't be obedient and wait. Isn't that right, my cute little slut?" He whispered in your ear, leaned forward to curl possessively over you while his fingers slipped down to trace around your twitching hole as it tried to suck his finger in.

"Mmmmm..." he hummed lowly, the sound vibrating against you where your chests were pressed together. He kissed the spot beneath your ear before his lips marked a path down your neck, sucking and nipping marks into the tender flesh there. Just as he reached the junction between your neck and shoulder, he suddenly sunk his teeth in and thrusted two fingers into you at the same time. Veritas had sneakily wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still right before so you weren't able to squirm away from his teeth or his fingers that now plunged in and out of you, agonizingly slow after that fast, rough entry.

The man pressed a kiss to your new bitemark before sliding the hand of the arm around your waist up your back to latch onto your nape and hold you still for a kiss. He chuckled into it as you attempted to fight him for dominance, your tongues clashing. Ultimately, he won and was now devouring your mouth, licking into it with fervor.

At some point, his fingers began to speed up. Veritas was fingerfucking you with his palm slapping against your throbbing clit. And right as you felt yourself begin that climb- He slowed down, his thrusts going back to a leisurely rhythm. He swallowed the whine that left your throat, smirking into the kiss you were still locked in. As he pulled away, he looked incredibly smug. "Thought it would be that easy? Of course not. This is a punishment.”

He did this another time, bringing you close to the rise of pleasure (not at all that close to your peak, though) before going frustratingly slowing. The third time, however... It didn't seem that he was going to stop, and you felt it build and build inside you like a white hot flame. And right as you were reaching the end... He spanked you and ripped his fingers out, sending you over the edge but ruining your orgasm. It had tears beading in your eyes. Fuck did that make him want to fuck you absolutely stupid, but he had more control than that. Your punishment was far from over.

He soothingly ran his hand over your back as you leaned into him, body shivering. "Color?" Through your panting breaths, you managed a weak, "Green." "Good girl." He didn't let you rest any longer, manhandling you into a new position. Now you were leaned over the edge of the tub with your hands keeping you from falling out, Veritas behind you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and you're going to take it all like a good girl, right?" At first you thought he was talking to you, but then he caressed your slit and cooed at it. That mixed sense of shame and arousal shot through you and had you clenching around nothing, making Veritas laugh condescendingly. "So honest..."

Again he started out slow, the sensual slide of his cock inside of your pussy making you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure he was giving you. But he was faster to ramp things up now that he'd already edged you and ruined one of your orgasms. It may or may not have also been because he was quite ready to slake his own lust with your body.

The only reason you didn't slam your face into the tub's edge or fall out was Veritas' grip on you when he grabbed both of your wrists and pulled your arms behind your back. You felt a hand slide into your hair and then he was thrusting into you hard, the slap of his hips slamming into your ass loud in the confined space of the bathroom. It was obscene the way you could even hear the wet sound of his cock going in and out of you amplified by the natural acoustics of said bathroom. "You like hearing how well you take me, slut? I certainly do. It's filthy. Fitting-"

Your hips are bruising from them being pressed onto the edge of the tub, bumping into it with almost every thrust. It hurt but fuck did it all feel so good because he was pressing against your sweet spot every time he fucked into your wet hole.

The hand pulling your head back by your hair let go only to wrap around your throat and pull you up so your back pressed against his chest. "Fuck you sound like such a whore right now. Are you my good little whore? Just for me?" Of course you couldn't answer because your mind was blank from his hand pressing just right to cut off some of that blood flow. Oh and because he had also just tilted his hand to cut off your air. He held for a bit, waiting until your vision was a bit fuzzy at the edges before letting you breathe, the feeling of the air rushing back into your lungs making you dizzy. You felt so close you could scream- And then you nearly did when he pulled out and stopped your orgasm.

His hands let go of you and you nearly keeled over, but he caught you. With an arm around your waist, you couldn't tell what he was doing behind you until you heard the slick sound of him fisting his cock. Right as he began cumming, he slammed back into you to fill you with it while biting down hard on the back of your neck. Another bite to mark you as his.

Veritas then pulled out so the last few spurts of cum would paint your labia in white, marking you inside and out with his spend.

You could feel the frustrated tears pouring down your face as you felt your burning arousal festering in your belly and the mix of embarrassment and thrill at his actions. Fuck this man would be the end of you. He unlatched from your neck to lean forward and lick the tears off your face with a hum. "You look so pretty like this..." He patted your ass before that same hand was sliding down to open you up using your pussy lips as he leaned back to watch as the cum he poured into you began to slip out.

Scooping up the cum that had dribbled out, he fingered it back in, purposefully tapping at your gspot a few times. He then pulled the white covered fingers out and petted your clit, playing with it a little before bringing it to your face. "Clean them off." Your tongue kitten licked some of it off before he was shoving them in your mouth. You gagged a little, drooling over his fingers while weakly sliding your tongue over them to clean them of the cum clinging to them.

"Good girl," he praised with a kiss to your jaw before he let out a sigh. "I'm going to sit you on my cock and finish my reading. Color?" "Green, fuck-" "That's a good pet."

Warming his cock while leaned forward to rest your arms on the lip of the tub while your head rested on those was hard. You desperately wanted to cum, but you now were willing to be obedient to get what you wanted. You weren't sure how much more punishment you could take. It didn't help that he had an arm resting on the back of your hips, slung over them as he leaned on you a bit while his other arm rested atop the other one. That hand was holding up his book. He wasn't touching you besides that and your ass resting in the cradle of his hips, cock deep inside your pussy which still fluttered around his thickness occasionally. Every time you squirmed he would spank you with a pointed look before going back to his book, ignoring you entirely. Any whining or talking would be met with the same treatment.

He checked in on you after a bit. "Color?" "...yellow." His demeanor changed immedately. Petting your side, he eased you back to lean against him once more. "What's wrong, baby?" He typically saved that endearment for intimate moments alone together and times like this where you might need reassurance. "I wanna see your face... wanna hold you." It seemed you might be a bit sensitive, now, after being punished for a while and needed that from him. "Of course, baby. Your punishment is almost over. I'll let you come soon and we can continue in the bedroom, hm?" You loved this man. "Okay." He kissed your forehead. "Good girl."

He slipped out, making you whine. It was met with a chuckle and he helped you turn around to slide into his lap again, this time facing him.

Veritas pulled you to rest against him, tucking you into his neck as he wrapped an arm around your waist. Once you both were settled in, he went back to reading. He still ignored you, but it wasn't so bad this time.

You knew he was done when he set his book on the table again.

He settled his grip on your hips before going straight into fucking up into you hard and fast, what cum was still left in you from his cock plugging it in you aiding the slide of dick in and out of you. He fucked you and played with you until you felt like you couldn't think straight. Even when he asked you questions, knowing you couldn't answer, you weren't quite sure what you said. Whether it was even coherent or not.

"Such a cute, dumb girl for me."

As you came around his cock again, you moaned as you felt the warmth of his cum in you. "Did so, so good for me. Such a good girl." Veritas gave you some time to come down from your high before asking. "Do you want to continue in the bedroom or are you finished for the night?" "...m' done." "Alright, baby." He gave you some more time before cleaning you up and draining the tub. Another kiss was pressed to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. "Let's go to bed, darling. I'll take care of you."

Lololol hopefully you like it. 🙏

If there’s any typos or if it doesn’t make sense somewhere… Your honor my client claims “oopsie daisy”. It’s me. The client is me, your honor-

[qwimchii]

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 (pt. 4) — 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

playlist pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 (10/24)

𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘤 — 12𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵!𝘢𝘶, 141𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘶, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (10𝘺𝘳𝘴), 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘴 & 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 😞

note: oml. i cannot thank you guys enough for your patient. this took me a lot longer than i thought it would (i've been writing the whole day LMFAO). your patience and support has been literally amazing and i love each and every one of you. thank you so much 😭💐💞 please enjoy &lt;33

you gasped, scrambling back into the bed.

the girl just stood there. stock still. like a ghost. eyes so shadowed in the darkness that they looked like two black pits staring at you.

your heart beat out of your chest, blood thickening to a slow gurgle, as you reached slowly for something solid on the nightstand. you made contact with the glass cup.

you were surprised by the amount of force in your voice. “are you here to kill me?”

she just stared, unblinking. 

a roiling turmoil of heat built right in your chest, and you snapped, “are you one of Turner’s men?”

she scoffed, and it only added to the flame of your ire, before you heard the soft click of her gun cocking.

“no,” she said, defiant, turning her chin up at you. “but you do have a nice ransom on your head.”

her head tilted, taking you in with a dark look that raked across your body. “and i recognized that man you were with. Ghost, is it?”

oh.

your eyes narrowed. “how do you know him?”

the better question was how did she recognize him?

your heart sank.

“i’ve done business with him,” she said cooly, and your heart just sank further. 

it made sense now. why she was standing at the door, her attention trained on Ghost, marching away when the other man told her to leave. she was expecting a customer.

maybe even a regular one.

then, she frowned at you. “not in ways that you are thinking.”

curling relief soared in your chest, and a weight lifted from your shoulders as you released a shaky breath.

she threw down the gun onto the floor and it skidded across the wooden floorboards, hitting the post of the bed with a thunk. mind clouded with confusion, you looked up at her with a furrowed brow.

she straightened her shoulders. “i’m here to save you.”

you blinked. save you?

“save me?” you squeaked, and her face twitched with annoyance.

“yes,” she said, striding forward to the bed, “we have to hurry. come.”

you scurried further back into the bed, yelping when you almost fell off the side.

she stopped in her tracks, watching you struggle in the sheets with flushed cheeks. quickly, you drew the yellow robe that was discarded on the floor around your body, hoping she didn’t see anything in the dark, and turned to her again, fumbling with the knot of it.

you were still holding the glass cup.

she looked down to it in your hands and then back up, mouth in twisted line.

embarrassed, you put the cup behind you on the nightstand.

“your father?” she chewed out slowly, “he has a ransom. he wants you alive.”

“what?” 

“your father. he wants you—”

a thick cloud of confusion settled in your furrowed brow, and you shot out, “i thought Turner wanted me dead.”

the girl gave you a long look, face twisted and hands clenched into the fabric of her dress. “he does. your father doesn’t.”

your mouth fell open, tongue heavy, then closed again.

“are they not working together?” there was a little flicker of hope deep within yourself.

“they are,” she said with raised brows, “they are working to come to an agreement over you.”

your stomach twisted. you felt like puking. 

you flattened yourself against the far wall of the room to stop the nauseating swirls of dizziness racking your mind, creating a marginal distance from the girl who loomed with a veil of impatience over her face, hands clenched by her sides and shoulders braced. a roil of fear boiled in you.

“you can’t take me,” you whispered, voice weak and trampled.

her frown deepened. “you want to stay with Ghost?”

“i am waiting for him,” you said carefully, and the girl scoffed, turning on her heel.

“do you think he will come back?”

your throat felt closed up. “what?”

“do you think he will come back?” she asked again, slowly, like you couldn’t understand her words. she pointed towards the low table in the room—there was a drawstring pouch you didn’t notice before.

“he left that for you at the front desk before he left. i came in to deliver it,” she explained, and you followed her line of sight to the gun at the foot of the bed.

ah. she came in to deliver them as well as threaten you. or save you, in her words. maybe both.

your eyes narrowed. “what are you saying?”

in the darkness of the room, you could see her roll her eyes.

“he left you money and that revolver.”

your head swirled, a pulsing headache building right in the base of your forehead. he left you these items—why? to protect yourself?

he said the brothel was safe. 

a sour taste filled your mouth. why would you need to protect yourself if it was safe?

unless you left the brothel.

you fought the droop of your head with a sharp twinge of your heart, deflating from the inside out.

“he wasn’t planning on coming back,” she gritted out, sounding more impatient than anything.

“you don’t know that,” you snapped, “it’s not dawn yet. he promised me he’d be back by dawn.”

she grew very still. “why do you want to stay with him? has he not been using you for…?”

her eyes roamed down the revealing nature of your robe, then flitted back up to your eyes. her face was stoney cold. serious.

you stiffened. Ghost had promised you he would never bed you again for revenge. had he been telling the truth? you didn’t know.

“i don’t know.”

she scoffed again, muttering under her breath, “she doesn’t know,” and turning away, rubbing over her face.

you swallowed down the growing swollen tightness in your throat, a familiar burn building at the waterline of your eyes. “you don’t understand. if you give me to my daddy…”

she turned back to you and your voice faltered. “i don’t want to be a mistress.”

her stoney face crumpled, eyes narrowed with unease, but you pressed on, “my daddy. he owns a saloon chain and made a business deal with Turner—investment and protection.”

your voice dimmed, quiet and low. “i was part of that deal. my daddy was going to give me to Turner as his mistress.”

the girl was silent, stark still in the darkness, mulling over something in her swirling eyes.

“alright.”

your eyes snapped to her. “alright?”

“i don’t work for Turner. i don’t work for your father. i don’t work for anybody but myself,” she said.

you nodded slowly, trying to digest that, searching her eyes for a twisted lie, but only finding a blank stoney void and truth. instead, you asked, “what about Ghost?”

she paused for a moment, looking apprehensive, before explaining, “when Ghost was younger, and when the law used to be trouble for him, he would hide here in this brothel. he paid for my services for a week but didn’t touch me once. he wanted something else.”

something else? you thought, hands growing clammy and cold.

she turned her head from you. “he wanted my secrets. powerful people tell me too much in the midst of an intimate night. now, i recognize Ghost’s gesture for what it was. he was not being kind to me like i believed him to be.”

her voice was eerily void. “he wanted to use me.”

then, she said, “i was sold by my father for fifty american dollars.”

you flinched. it made you wonder how much Turner had promised your daddy in exchange for you.

her stare was glazed over, dark and unnatural. you suppressed a shiver and listened to what she had to say, clutching at the wall tighter when she slowly stepped forward towards you.

“i know what it is like to want to be useful. i, too, once believed that it was necessary for my father to sell me to feed my brothers. i told myself that the entire way by ship from china. then, i told myself that helping Ghost would give me purpose.”

her voice was stronger, and she drew so near you could see the swirling pattern of her crimson dress. “now, i am not of use to anyone except for myself. i worked hard to get here. this is one of the kindest and most well-paying brothels in the city. most girls only last for five years after being sold into prostitution.”

her words were icy cold. “i worked hard to survive.”

“i’m…” your voice failed in your choked up throat, pangs of heaviness breaking your heart apart. you wanted to apologize but that didn’t feel like enough.

she pinned you with a hard look. “i do not want your pity.”

you slowly sunk down the wall, till your backside hit the cold, hard floor, and you wrapped your arms around your knees. all your problems felt dwarfed in front of this girl, but you still shook with fear.

“i won’t go back to my daddy,” you whispered, words trembling, but defiant nonetheless.

she got on her knees, creeping towards you till she leaned against the wall in the spot beside you. the proximity of her body felt warm in the crisp morning of the room.

she was insistent, expression fierce and strong. “i will not give you over to him for money. ”

your eyes snapped to hers, and her hand slid over the floor into the space between you.

desperate, you searched for the right words but couldn’t find them. “thank you.”

you took up her hand, and she squeezed yours with a strength that shocked you for her thin, petite frame.

“i will help you,” she insisted, and a curl of despair wrung your chest.

“you cannot help me, miss,” you said weakly, truthfully, “i need to wait for Ghost.”

she made a noise of deep frustration. “you do not.”

you closed your eyes, nose buried into your knees. “i have to.”

you felt her draw your hand into her lap, holding onto it with a powerful grasp. “he will not return. i prayed many nights for him to return too. but still, i will wait with you.”

the certainty in her tone felt soul crushing, and a truth from her own experience, but the tightness of her grip was an anchor that held you through the nauseating, racks of unease that pulled you like a tide. 

you waited for the sun to peek up through the far windows of the room, overlooking a dip in the city that revealed a stretch of chinatown twinkling in the early, blue hours with loud ruckus, shouts, and clatters.

when the first bruised pinks and purples stretched the morning sky, and beams of orange had cast over your body, your head perking up as you squinting into its glare from over your knees, Ghost had still not come.

you moved through the city like a ghost—like nothing was anchoring you down to the ground except for the girl’s iron grip on your hand. she had almost never let go of you when you roused from your light slumber, letting her drag you from the room, pocketing Ghost’s money and his revolver.

you left behind your shattered heart in that room. you felt like you died in that room.

the girl had forced you into one of her few western-style, yet airy, dresses that still felt too revealing from the wardrobe of her small room in the upper floors of the brothel. but nobody stared at you as she pulled you down another avenue through chinatown, considerably cleaner and better groomed than the ones you had been on before.

you did not know where you were going—you weren’t sure if you cared. the girl had only said with a determined ferocity, i will help you, when Ghost had not come.

Ghost had not come.

it was like a splintering realization every moment.

she hauled you into the back of a busy shop, barely squeezing through the small frame of the door, opening it to a whirlwind of more women shouting in mandarin and bent over desks strewn with cloths, silks, garments, and clunky sewing machines that packed in the room. that same sweet smoke tinged the room and you resisted pinching your nose against the searing smell.

an older woman with grayed hair and a wrinkled face like a plum stepped into the girl’s path, shouting something at her, though not unkindly, to which the girl shouted back. the old woman stepped back with a nod, and you curled closer to the girl as many of the women in the room turned from their stations to stare as you passed before busying themselves once more.

the girl took you into the front store room, marginally more quiet than in the back, and adorned with a plush red carpet and racks of colorful clothing where some wealthy women perused. 

then, she pulled you towards a raised platform in the corner of the room, where a red curtain hung by it and pushed you onto it. you stepped up, feeling uncomfortably light without her hand around yours, and she tugged the curtain around the platform without a word and a stricken face, shrouding the rest of the room from view.

you stood there for a moment, clutching against the wall and listening to the faint screeches of hangers dragging across their racks, light footsteps, and the bustle of the city from outside the store.

you jolted when she yanked open the curtain and quickly jerked it close behind her once more.

her face looked more serious than before—face screwed up in a tight expression and deep frown. you bit back a gasp when her arms flew to your shoulders and tugged her towards her, almost falling off the platform.

“listen to me,” she grit out with a clenched jaw, and you nodded quickly. “i cannot help you for long. tell me, what do you want?”

what do you want?

the question ran bated circles around your mind.

in a panic, you choked out, “i don’t know.”

she looked disappointed, but her grip on your shoulders only tightened, and you winced from the painful pulse in your injured joints. “you need to decide. now.”

she pressed something hard and cool into your hand and you looked down at the revolver in your open palm. the steel of it was engraved with trumpet vines.

you were reminded of several nights ago—when Ghost had first asked you the question.

“what do you want?” his hand moved to stroke at your cheek, your brow, your hair.

you never had the luxury of pondering the question. your path was always laid out before you by your mama and daddy. there was no choice. only lingering, bitter feelings of resentment as you fought yourself to believe that tending Daddy’s saloon and entertaining businessmen was the life you wanted.

“i dont know.”

“tell me.”

you had said you wanted him. now, you weren’t sure.

what did you want?

you looked into the dark swirl of the girl’s intense gaze, the inky hair that went down her shoulders in unfurling waves. did you want independence like her?

instead you asked, “why are you helping me?”

her face flitted with a tenseness but she held fast, unmoving and unshaken.

you pressed on, “what about the money? don’t you want the ransom?”

you felt eerily calm despite what you were alluding towards—her selling away your last flickers of freedom.

she shook her head. “i will not use you like my father used me.”

you stared at her. maybe, for the first time in your life, you’d met someone who didn’t want to use you for an advantage. maybe this girl was lying and would lead you straight into your daddy’s embrace again, and once your daddy smoothed everything out with Turner, you’d be in Turner’s bed every other night, satiating an old man with the warmth of your youthful touch.

or maybe, she was telling the truth.

“i don’t believe you,” you said, voice soft, and her grip slackened.

“you have to. tell me what you want.” she reached into the neckline of her shirt, and pulled something from her undergarments, revealing the drawstring pouch of the money Ghost left you.

she pushed it into your hand with the gun and closed your fingers around the heaviness of it, the clink of coins and rustles of paper feeling too loud in your ears, your mind swirling with effort.

you mulled over everything for the past week—only just seven days total. when you had met Ghost, one-four-one, their outlawed antics, los vaqueros. Kate’s expression when she left you at your train door, when you had challenged her about the truth of their revenge ploy, when you had escaped on horseback from the leather crafts shop. 

the fullness of her eyes. the sadness of them.

you thought of john when he had an arm circled around your waist as he galloped on that chestnut through the small town, saving your life, and the blinding rush when you turned over your shoulder and shot that man gunning for John. you saved his life in return.

you thought of Soap’s kindness in the hallway of the train, the thick swell of his accent, the delight that bloomed across his face whenever he saw you. the vicious sober look that twisted his smile when he promised to get revenge on Turner.

you thought of Gaz and his proposal, the origin of his poor childhood that he had disclosed in hushed murmurs, and the warmth of his polite touch grasping your hand and pressing it to his chest. the youthful earnest in his face.

you thought of your daddy and your mama—preparing you for a life that you had never chosen. Turner’s mistress.

you didn’t know who to hate more.

you thought of Ghost.

maybe you should hate him.

your skin prickled in remembrance of his soft, warm lips, and gentle touch, the way he held you, his even softer words, his empty promises. the perfect lies he created with a smug look and twinkle in his dark eyes, more charming than his infamous reputation led you to believe.

more charming, terrifying, mysterious, and guarded than you had ever seen in a man.

he lied to you time and time again. you closed your eyes against the weight that dragged your entire body down—so heavy it was like it never wanted you to stand properly again.

the girl’s tight grip steadied you.

“i want to be wanted,” you said weakly, eyes fluttering open again to see the grim look on her face.

her jaw was clenched tight. “i did too. but that is not an option.”

your whole heart shattered all over again.

“i want…” you mind spiraled, “i want revenge.”

the smile that twitched into her lips was malicious.

“against who?”

you felt like you were floating. “Turner.”

your voice darkened. “my daddy.”

she nodded, a pleasant look on her face now. “good. i will help you.”

before she stepped away and off the platform, you shoved the pouch of money back into her arms.

when she shook her head to refuse, you pressed, tone cutting and vicious, “take it. or take me as a ransom so help me god.”

when she realized you would refuse to let her go uncompensated, either from the harsh tone of your voice, your words, or the twisted tightness in your face, she relented, and disappeared from the changing room again.

you steadied your breath, looking into the full-length mirror hung on the wall.

you didn’t look like the girl you were a week ago.

you were different now—sinful, vengeant, a murderer.

you thought that it suited you better.

the girl came back and took you to a different area of the store: through the compact kitchen, where she fed you something greasy, savory, and foreign that you consumed in mere bites, then you swallowed down a steaming cup of tea, and she helped wash in a tub.

rubbing and lathing up soap through your hair as you scrubbed down your body. she was unashamed of your bare state, and the newfound rush that boiled in your veins left you uncaring for it.

after you dried off, she took you to the upper floors of the store to a bedroom—the old woman’s, you recognized later on, when the elder woman brought in several elaborate dresses with a wry smile on her face. the bedroom smelled herbal and picante, you noticed, as you were stripped of your clothes again and redressed in the undergarments the girl lent you.

the old woman said something to you—pleasant with a bellow of laughter—before she trudged out the room with heavy steps.

when you looked at the girl in confusion, the only thing she offered was, “she was very happy the day her husband died. she hopes you can find that same happiness.”

whether it was an ominous omen, or a cruel joke, you couldn’t shake it as she laid out a pale evening gown of silk with patterned lilac flowers up the front. your breath hitched as you smoothed a hand over it, the beads adorning its hems, and the lace gathered along its short puff sleeves.

“i think it would suit you,” the girl said, face lax and fond as she picked it up from the bed and pressed it into your hands.

“how could i accept this?” you asked weakly, and she held up the drawstring pouch, jingling its contents lightly in your face, though not unkindly.

“i know my worth,” the girl said with a deadpanned simplicity that made you smile at the sheer absurdity of it all. 

she helped you slide on the dress, over your corset and drawers, and sat you down at the chipped vanity by the windows where the natural light of mid-day came streaming through that aided you as she drew up your hair into a loose updo. 

you used the powder, eyeshadow, and rogue on the vanity and painted your lips with a careful hand. the girl’s hand came to rest on your exposed nape, and you shivered, not used to the exposed air along your bare arms, neck, and chest due to the low bust of the dress.

the girl placed the revolver on the vanity beside you and you pocketed it through the slit-opening between the layer of your petticoat and dress.

you looked into the mirror of the vanity and the girl’s reflection stared back, expression placid and cool, easing your own nerves.

she said with confidence, “you look lovely.”

you winced at the word, grateful that it went unnoticed to her.

she continued, “tonight, when you reach Turner’s party, there will be violence and bloodshed.”

she slid a box of matches onto the vanity. “wreak havoc. he has run these streets for far too long.”

you pocketed the box with a nod, the box knocking against your revolver, watching her head tilt in the mirror.

“maybe one-four-one will run these streets in time.” a smile flashed across her face before it was gone. “i think things would become better.”

you reached back to grasp at her hand on your neck. “i will make sure you are better compensated when it happens.”

she blinked, eyes flickering with a curiosity. “you will work with one-four-one even after all they have done to you?”

with a sigh, you nodded. “they are all i know. i care too much for them.”

“and Ghost?”

you released her hand, looked away from the mirror, and trained your eyes on the bustling street through the window. “him included.”

you heard her shift behind you. “i cared for him once too. i hope it ends happier for you than it did for me. maybe in marriage.”

you grimaced. “you think i should marry him?”

she was silent for so long that you looked back at her from over your shoulder. she sat with an impeccable posture and a sad tightness in her expression.

“he has used you. he has hurt you. maybe he did not come this dawn to protect you. from Turner and from himself. although he has failed time and time again, maybe his intentions are with a good heart.”

good heart. you didn’t know if you could use those words to describe him.

“albeit, he did not know i would betray him like this. i stole his lover away,” she said with a mischievous look and an air of accomplishment that made you smile.

“are you not worried that one-four-one will punish you for it?”

she only shrugged. “what will they do to me? with this money—” she held up the drawstring, “—i will run away and buy property to live off myself. or i will marry a rich, powerful old man and wait until he dies like the old woman did.”

you laughed at that, remembering the pleasant look on the old woman’s face as she left the bedroom, full of delight and fondness at the memory of her own husband’s death. maybe, you could imagine yourself running a successful clothing boutique like this.

the image soured. you realized you could much better imagine the girl maintaining her own business rather than you.

you could better imagine yourself married with children—their blonde heads bobbing and dark brown eyes twinkling with delight. your chest deflated with a heavy weight.

she pulled you from your thoughts, a new stoicism to her face. “whatever you do with Simon, make sure you use him twice as much as he used you.”

you flinched at the proposition, but her resolve was like steel. you knew she meant it from the way she pinned up the last of your hair with steadied hands and a wall of iron over her elegant features.

for the rest of the afternoon, you stayed up in that bedroom, exchanging stories of your girlhoods. how you grew up in a small town embedded in the dusty, desert west, manning saloon bars and entertaining your daddy’s business partners. the girl told you about her childhood in china, the impoverished peoples in her town, and the ships that came to the nearby big city port that offered families sell off their young girls for services in america.

you had never been impoverished and you had never gone hungry. you listened with horror to the way she described the malnutrition in her town—the way her ribs hung over her sunken stomach, and the cavernous hunger that felt like shooting pains all over her body.

you were surprised when she was so stricken by the way you described the neglectful nature of your daddy and mama that you used to see as a different avenue of affection unique to your own family. she described her tight-knit relationship to her mother, how there was no veil of secrecy between them, only a flow of transparency unlike her and her father.

then, she described her first years in america. how she was starving more than ever with almost no pay, manipulating the managers of each brothel to transfer her, running from establishment to establishment until she found the wealthy brothel chain associated with one-four-one where she met Ghost.

she described him when he was younger—“bearing a quiet, devouring hunger for power,” she had said with such simplicity it almost made you grimace. he was brash and rash fighting the law until he bribed them out of it, she explained, growing his influence through the west through bigger investments and bigger bribes.

she admitted that in her naivety, she had seen his indifference to her as a kindness, and fell in love. she waited earnestly for months until his next return when he would give her a large sum and she would spill all her secrets of illegal business syndicates reinforced by politics within the largest western hub for organized crime—san francisco.

they would mule over long nights together, piecing together motives, crimes, big players, moving pieces, in a never-ending chess game of control over the western frontier between gangs. he had trusted her all with it.

“and i never betrayed him till now,” she reminded you with a wink. “i wonder what he would do if he knew i was leading his little lamb right into the lion’s den…”

you didn’t want to know the dark thoughts that churned in her head as you watched her ponder in silence, a hand to her chin.

soon, she was drawing a shawl over your shoulders and leading you down the steps of the shop, passing through that crowded room where the seamstresses worked, shouted, and trained their attention to you with a curiosity for mere moments before they looked down at the fabrics between their hands again.

you only saw a flash of the old woman’s dark smile, an impish look in her eyes, before she was turning away and disappearing into the fray.

the girl led you out of the shop and into the street where a horse and buggy waited with a coachman at its head. it was the manager of the brothel. he grinned at you, sinister and eerie, gold tooth flashing.

when you faltered, she explained easily, “i organized it for your arrival at the party. it needs to look convincing.”

she helped you up into the carriage and you slid into it, smoothing over your dress and tugging at the shawl to keep any of your exposed skin from showing in the light of the early evening. she handed you a pair of white gloves that you slipped on and then a pearl white mask with light purple feathers.

“you have done too much for me,” you said, feeling guilty as you peered down into her face, but she shook her head.

“i told you i would help you. i have. now, you owe a debt to me,” she said, voice low and laced with threat. you suppressed a shiver but nodded eagerly nonetheless.

“i thought i was saving you from one-four-one. then, i thought i was saving you from your father. mostly, i’m saving you from yourself,” she mused, and you felt stumped as you pat your knee with a softness.

“what do you mean?” you asked with a furrowed brow, jolting when she closed the door of the carriage in your face.

you heard the coachman hitch the horses with a shout, and the carriage began meandering slowly up the road. 

you hung out the window with a panicked alarm, but she only grinned at you.

“we are the same in many ways, sister!” she shouted over the clop of hooves and the wheels churning over stone as the carriage pulled away.

sister. you had never had one of those.

“what is your name?” you called, and she shouted back, “Yue-Yi!”

the big grin on your face made your cheeks ache as Yue-Yi waved, wishing you could say so much more as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance, a shorter figure joining her by the sidewalk to wave goodbye. when you squinted your eyes, you could make out the frizzy grayed hair of the old woman.

turning back into your seat in the carriage, you tied the mask onto your face and steeled your nerves, grasping the revolver and matches through the layers of your gown with a eerie calm that settled over you like a thick veil.

as you neared Turner’s estate, more carriages coalesced into a line, queuing up to its large, sprawling and trim lawn, adorned with hedges and fountains that twinkled in the low light of the evening.

you craned your neck out the carriage window to get a glimpse of the sheer architecture of the residency—massive and victorian, with pointed roofs and limestone carvings. you had always thought your home was impressive in your small town but this mansion dwarfed it.

the carriage lurched to a stop, horses whinnying with a stomp. you waited with bated breath in front of the great, arched entrance of the place, listening to the coachman walk over to the door of the carriage and open it, offering a polite hand.

you took it, ignoring his gold-toothed smile and tossed your shawl back into the carriage quite rudely. with the new exposure of your skin, and the growth of his grin, you jerked your hand back from his and gave him a rushed thanks.

but before you made your way up the steps to the elegant entrance, lined with guardsmen in black three-piece suits and fashionable bowler hats, where more guests lingered for admission in fancy attire, you turned back to the manager of the brothel, puffing up your chest with a new confidence.

“you,” you snapped. his brows rose in reply, sly smirk only growing more, much to your discontent.

“yes?” he said, stepping forward. you stepped back.

“Yue-Yi is one of your best workers, no?”

his mouth open and closed before nodding, that greasy smile never leaving his lips.

“you should increase her pay,” you said, impressed by the cool indifference of your own manner.

turning on your heel, you spoke over your shoulder, “or else she might find better avenues of self-employment.”

he paled slightly at that, smirk dropping from his face, and you smiled sweetly, making your way up the steps before remembering yourself. you turned back to him and his pale, stiff disposition before curtsying with the most properness your mother had ever taught you, then continued your ascent to the doors.

you didn’t look back to see if he still lingered with that dumb, pale look on his face. the very thought made you grin bigger.

the line slowly trickled through the entrance as the guardsmen checked names off a list. a new nervous fervor built in you. looking around the lines, and at women and men who lingered together in their own parties, you sidled closer to a loud, unsuspecting woman and her two other female friends, all donned in light yellows and dark magentas and fanning themselves.

when you were just steps from the entrance, the women gave the guards their names, and you craned your neck to see the interior of the residency. lavish, loud, overly decorated in golds and marbles. nothing you would expect less from the old, obnoxious Turner.

“good evening, miss,” one guardsman said, and you jolted from your thoughts, eyes snapping to his. he tilted his head. “your name?”

“i…” you felt stupid, mouth opening and closing, not sure of what to do when—

you crept closer to him, hoping it went unnoticed to the distracted parties around you, and his brows rose slightly, a strange look crossing his face.

you snuck a gloved hand onto his arm, his gaze lingered at your touch, to the exposed skin of your low-cut dress, neck, then your eyes. you cocked your head, sliding your hand up his arm.

“mary smith,” you lied with an ease, and he nodded dumbly, looking through the list. you knew that he wouldn’t find that name and he knew it too.

he cleared his throat, shifting under your touch. “no chaperone, miss?”

you wanted to curse yourself. you had become so accustomed to running off through the west without a chaperone that you had completely forgotten an unmarried, young lady needed one at all.

“maybe you could suffice, sir,” you whispered with a light giggle, and watched with amazement as a slow pink flush crept up into his ears and cheeks.

he cleared his throat again, gesturing to the entrance and avoiding your eyes, “i’m sure our boss wouldn’t mind one extra, lovely young lady.”

you smiled at that, sliding your hand very lightly across his chest as you glided past him, biting back a snort at the way he stiffened under your touch.

crossing the threshold, you stepped into the grand entrance hallway filled with people and you almost melted with relief. making an effort to get lost in the crowd, you snaked in between bodies and conversing groups, their faces adorned with feathered masks and glasses of wine between their gloved fingers.

gliding through the rooms of the residency, you wondered how you would ever find your daddy or Turner in this mess. you stiffened at the thought of crossing paths with one-four-one by mistake.

wringing your hands nervously as your head whipped around between the loud, noisy surroundings, you realized for the first time how utterly alone you were in this mansion.

hundreds of people may have been stuffed into the place, but you were the sole person on this mission, and whether one-four-one had shown up to this party or not, you were the sole person who knew your own plans to kill the party host and turn tail.

with his death, hopefully, you could carve a good chunk of your daddy’s money out of his business. you quieted any alarming thoughts about your mama.

a large drone of partygoers began moving slowly towards the opposite side of the room, and you followed the crowd into the main family room that dwarfed the houses of your small town. looking up into the curve of the ceiling adorned with paintings, a large chandelier hung down into the cavernous room littered with tables of food and colorful banisters. 

at the head of the room, near a fireplace, a man stood in a crisp black suit and bow-tie with a curling black mustache and greased black hair flecked with grays on a platform. Turner.

you hadn’t seen his beady, blue eyes and grim, twisted face since dinner with him, your daddy, and mama since months ago along with that haughty wife of his, who stood proud and arrogant by his shoulder.

your mouth soured at the sight of them and you felt around the skirt of your dress, feeling the handle of your gun through the layers.

if you shot him now, could you run away in time? and if they caught you, what would happen?

Turner took a glass cup and clinked a spoon against it, grabbing the room’s attention as it diminished into a silence.

you grasped the gun tighter between your hands.

“thank you for coming,” he said, low, rumbly voice ringing out over the crowd. “we are here today—” he reached back and you watched with amazement as a little girl stepped up onto the platform, grasping onto his hand with a shy, meek look, “—to celebrate my daughter’s birthday.”

your stomach curled at his words, grip going slack against your dress.

if you had shot him right there and then, in the midst of this swarming crowd, maybe you could’ve slipped away easily in the scrambling panic of the crowd. but he would’ve dropped dead, blood oozing from his in a dark puddle, right in front of his own daughter.

the thought made you feel nauseous.

the tall, broad frame that creeped up beside you startled you with a jolt, and you looked up to find an incredibly tall and massive body of a ginger man with a black mask tied around his face. he had his hands behind his back, looking lax with an arrogant smirk on his face. he peered down at you from his shoulder.

“hello there,” he said quietly, under the words that Turner continued to bellow to the crowd. his accent was foreign. maybe german.

“this is an interesting party, no? with masks and such,” he gestured to the crowd, and you struggled to find words. 

“i guess,” you croaked, voice scratchy and thick. his smirk only widened.

“what are you doing in this big crowd without a chaperone, little lady?”

you wanted to shrink away from him at that moment, feeling awkward and exposed under the burn of his gaze.

“i have business to conduct.”

he laughed loud and throaty, earning a few hostile glances from the people around you, and you winced, trying to step away and disappear into the crowd but his big hand came to rest on your shoulder and you went impossibly stiff. 

“i do, too, little lady.” 

he bent down closer to your ear and you shivered. “how do you know, Turner?”

your mouth opened and closed.

“family connections.”

his eyes widened beneath the mask—the color an exotic pale green that you had never seen before.

“really?” he shifted closer to you and you tugged at his grip on your shoulder, trying to move away but the strength of his massive body easily overpowered your own.

“can i tell you a secret, little lady?”

you shook your head with a strong, “no,” but he continued you anyways.

“i know you have a gun in that pocket.”

you went impossibly rigid, breath catching in your throat and he chuckled lowly in your ear.

“i don’t know who’s paying you, but they’re incredibly clever, hiring an innocent-looking little lady like you. you almost fooled me.”

you grit out through a clenched jaw, “and just who are you, sir?”

he released you with an, “ah, my apologies, i need to remember my manners.”

you turned to him, craning your head up to look up into his face, shoulders set with frustration at the prospect of somehow being… caught.

he sighed out, sounding disappointed. “you should know me if you’re in this sort of line of work, but i guess i’ll tell you my name.”

then, he gave you a lop-sided smile. “i’m Konig.”

you blinked at him. “okay.”

the smile slid off his lips. “okay? haven’t you heard of me?”

there was a bitter taste in your mouth as you shook your head slowly, and his face crunched into deeper disappointment. you almost regretted giving him the reply that you did, and you would have, if he didn’t start going on a tangent about himself.

“you should know me,” he insisted, putting a hand to his chest, “i’m Konig. i’m very famous in this line of work. i work under kortac.”

your brows pinched together, neck beginning to ache just from looking up at him.

he only sighed again. “i guess americans don’t know kortac. no matter. i’ll just have to kill you before eliminating Turner.”

at that, you jolted, beginning to scramble backwards as he reached out to you once more.

“wait—!” you shrieked, crashing into a trio of ladies that shrieked on impact, flailing as you turned to flee from the large man, but a loud, splintering shatter echoed through the entire room and the lights flickered overhead.

everything stilled and you stopped in your tracks. you looked up into the ceiling, at the chandelier overhead, stomach dropping when you saw the thing sway, then with more ear-rupturing splinters, in almost a slow-motion, began to crash down to the floor where you stood.

the entire room flooded with screams and shouts as the crowd scrambled out of the room. bodies pushed against yours and you almost fell to your knees, screeching when a hand hoisted you up and pushed you forward toward a narrow hallway stemming from the room.

a harsh german accent was in your ear, “fick mich—move, move, american!”

you did, as fast as you could, through the snaking crowd, and you clutched at your ears with a scream when gunshots rang through the room.

and when you turned to look over your shoulder, you saw a familiar broad body, clad in all black with a black mask, a tussle of dirty blonde hair shaved down on the sides of his head and pieces that hung down his forehead, and a silver scar on his upper lip with a revolver raised and aimed at Turner.

you couldn’t turn and go back with Konig’s massive body blocking your path and urging you forward. picking up the hem of your dress, you pushed through the squirming crowd and into the narrow hallway.

a resounding crash shook the entire mansion, and you almost fell to the ground again from the vibrations of it, but Konig picked you back up and pushed you behind a curtained area in the nook of the hallway.

when you were obscured from the rest of partygoers rushing through the mansion, Konig turned to you and put a hand around your throat, squeezing tight, and the other hand shoving a revolver right beneath your chin.

you clawed at his grip on your throat, glaring into the emptiness of his green eyes. with the last of your strength, you spit on his face, and he drew back his hand around your throat to wipe it away with a look of disgust. you scrambled away from him, gulping in breaths of air, but he only reached out and pulled you back with a tight grip around your arm.

you whipped your head back at him, trying to kick at him, but he pressed you to the wall with ease and a curiously amused look.

“you are not very good at this, little lady,” he admitted, and that only pissed you off.

with all your strength, you stomped as hard as you could on his foot, and he hissed out, reeling back but not easing his grip on you at all.

“i don’t even know what you’re talking about!” you shrieked, wriggling, and his brow furrowed.

“no? were you not hired to kill Turner?”

“no!” you almost screamed between desperation and frustration, and he released you. with a gasp you crashed to the floor.

“really?” he asked, helping you up with a tight grip that sent another flurrying panic through you, and you squirmed out of his touch. this time, he let you.

“yes,” you said, exasperated, fixing the dishevelment of your dress, and Konig stared at you, revolver laying limp by his side.

“oh,” he said, quietly, and you just glared at him, sending him a strange look when he began to fumble with his hands. now, he wouldn’t look at you, strangely awkward and apprehensive.

“sorry,” he mumbled, and you huffed, taking the moment to pull out your own revolver and dig it into his stomach.

he barely responded—just giving you that same distant, awkward look.

“you’re right,” you hissed, cocking the gun, and his brows only raised slightly as you continued, “i wasn’t hired to kill Turner. i’m doing this on my own accord.”

that seemed to pique his interest because he tilted his head, shoving his revolver into the breast pocket of his coat. “oh? pray tell, american?”

you rolled your eyes. “it’s none of your business, sir.”

you drew back the curtain and stomped into the hallway, looking around and unsettled by the eerie quietness of the place. most of the partygoers had emptied the mansion already, only distant gunshots and shouts and crashes of noise vibration through the place.

when you saw Turner’s men barrel past a couple corridors away, you rushed backwards with a squeak and almost screamed when you crashed into Konig’s big chest.

he looked down at you with a blank look and a steadying hand on your hip that you immediately swatted away. instead, you hurried down a corridor in the opposite direction of where Turner’s men had been headed, and felt an increasing annoyance when Konig started following you.

you turned to snap over your shoulder, “go away.”

the quiet thuds of his footsteps faltered and then picked up again and you huffed with annoyance.

turning fully to him with crossed arms and your revolver still in hand, he stopped a marginal distance from you with a hurt look on his face.

“what?” you asked, and his frown only deepened.

“let’s make an agreement, little lady.”

“why should i do that?” you asked honestly. “you’re a criminal and an assassin.”

the blank look he gave you only pulled you into self-reflection. technically, you were also a criminal, and mere steps away from a self-employed assassin.

“you want to kill Turner,” he said, and you jolted when more gunshots only got louder, maybe mere hallways away, but he continued without so much as a blink, “and i want to kill Turner for money. let’s make an agreement—i will let you kill him if you let me lie to my superiors and say that it was in fact i who killed him. otherwise, i will have to kill you for getting in my way.”

your stomach curdled at the easy way he said it.

when a smug smirk twisted his face, you winced at the sinister nature of it. “besides, you need me. i am very good at my job, no? my name is Konig for a reason.”

you mulled over his offer. what he proposed was reasonable and made perfect sense. although you didn’t know what Konig meant, you assumed he earned the name for a respectable talent in his profession. killing people.

but could you trust him?

you looked over the relaxed nature of his body, smug and arrogant and cocksure you would take up his agreement. you could trust him just as much as the devilish outlaw who earned his name for murdering without a trace—Ghost.

“alright, Konig,” you said bitterly, “let’s see how much you can offer me.”

his smirk only grew. “i can offer you a lot of things, little lady,” he sang, that arrogant look on his face only inflating as he turned on his heel and headed directly towards the gunshots.

faltering, you fell close in step behind his massive body and felt a panic when the gunshots and shouts sounded closer. he sent you a smug look and turned sharply into a different hallway, your head on a swivel for stray people as he led you into an immense library.

“why are we here?” you asked, turning in a circle to take in the multiple levels of the place. 

he didn’t answer you, only walking up to a case of books on the far edge of a book-filled wall, and reached far back into its shelves where he searched around for something with a face of concentration. you watched with unease, looking over so often at the entrance of the library with your revolver in hand.

something clicked in the wall. your eyes widened in amazement as Konig stepped back and the bookcase shifted with a squeaking grown, slowly pulling pack and screeching to the side. behind it was a narrow, dim stone corridor lit with electric bulbs.

“see?” Konig offered, hand reaching out to you, “i can offer you much more than murder, little lady.”

rolling your eyes, you took his hand and scurried down the corridor quickly for fear of the vulnerable exposure in the immense library. Konig led you down the path blanketed with a thin layer of water, the corridor dripping water overhead, and a musk, dank smell in the air. his big back was the only thing you could see in the dim lighting of the narrow hallway.

you tried to quell any lingering thoughts of anxiety coursing through you—what if Konig had taken you down here to kill you?

what if he was actually one of Turner’s men posing as a hired assassin?

that almost stopped you in your tracks, and when he sent you a confused look from over your shoulder, filled with nothing but focus on the task ahead, you scurried forward again, closer to him than you had been before.

through the never-ending winding corridors, Konig seemed to maneuver them with an eerie precision and ease, sometimes stopping to observe the halls with a sweeping glance, and then continuing ahead without so much as a word.

soon, the winding path tracked into a sharp incline until you reached a dead-end. Konig searched over the surface of the stone wall with his gloved hands and pressed around till there was a soft click and the thing stuttered open with a groan.

he gave you another victorious smirk and helped you through the entrance with a polite hand that you took begrudgingly. you entered into a bedroom this time—one that looked untouched and picked clean.

probably a guest bedroom, you realized, then jumped forward with a start when the entrance of the corroder began sliding shut behind you. it was a bookcase like before, and you watched in awe as it dragged shut backwards into its nook, settling with a cloud of dust.

Konig waved at it with a cough and strode forward to open the bedroom door and into the hallway. you followed him quickly.

peering down the empty and deadly silent hallway, you spotted a carved wood banister of a staircase at the end of it and realized that you must’ve been on an upper floor now.

“we are near Turner’s bedroom now,” Konig said, and you cocked a brow at him.

“how do you know all of this?” you pressed, and he shrugged.

“i memorized the blueprint.”

you resisted rolling your eyes, and instead with a tinge of sarcasm said, “impressive.”

he puffed up with pride and a strong nod. “i know.”

you allowed yourself to roll your eyes.

creeping along the hallway, Konig neared a grand set of carved double doors and gold handles that no doubt looked to be the primary bedroom.

“how do you know Turner will be here?” you whispered, a sudden creeping apprehension coming over you. your hands twisted around the gun to ease a heavy feeling in your chest.

this felt rushed and not right at all.

you hadn’t even prepared yourself.

you swallowed hard. how were you going to kill this man when you knew him better than the others you had killed? more than Charles and his associate and Turner’s lackey who had chased you and John down on horseback? 

“i don’t,” Konig said, placing a gloved hand on the handle, sending you a smirk, “just a good guess.”

he began to turn the gilded handle of the door when a loud gunshot ricocheted through the hallway, shattering a vase by your side as a bullet whizzed past your shoulder.

with a shriek, you scrambled back against the wall, seeing a dozen of Turner’s men rushing down the long, long corridor of the hallway, and suddenly the bedroom doors were kicked open, three guardsmen bursting through.

Konig was quick to move, shooting one in the face and the other in his leg, taking the third beneath his arm and crushing his neck in a quick jerk that had him falling limp to the carpet.

the man with the shot leg screamed in pain, clutching at his own leg and hobbling near you with a scrunched expression. you bit back any feeling of sympathy and wound up your good arm, punching him straight in the face.

he fell to the ground with a thud and Konig gave you an approving, crazy laugh, reloading his revolver and shot down the hall—two men fell in his wake.

“go,” he urged, jerking his head in the direction of Turner’s room, and its doors that were swung wide open, “i will take care of these men, little lady, you just remember our agreement!”

“wait—” you called with an outstretched arm, a gripping uncertainty wracking you, but Konig was already gone.

at the conjoinment of another hallway, more of Turner’s men poured into the vicinity, and you heard Konig curse loudly as he rushed forward, before a new slew of people flooded into the opposite side of the hallway.

you recognized a broad, blonde male as Ghost and another smaller blonde form as Kate, Soap, John, and Gaz somewhere in the fray, and with Alejandro and Rudolfo and los vaqueros added to it, it looked like the real war Ghost had promised you days ago.

is this why he had left you at that brothel this morning? because a full-drawn out war would happen right here in Turner’s mansion? knowing you would refuse to stay away from the bloodshed if he hadn’t lied to you last night?

even now, with all his lies, you had refused to stay away anyways.

you clutched at your own chest, trying not to sink down into the floor and stay there forever, and pushed yourself from the carpet, heaving yourself up onto the handle of the doors and slamming both shut behind you quickly.

with heavy, panicked breaths that forced through your choked up throat, you fought back any tears that brimmed in your eyes as you pressed your forehead to the cool surface. you felt lightheaded and eerily light. you wanted Yue-Yi’s tight grip on you to ground you again. or Ghost’s arms to wind around you. or even the mean pinch of your mama’s fingers on your skin.

tears fell down your cheeks.

Ghost—would he be okay? alive? 

even Konig, who you had just met, who had been so willing to help you, for no good reason, mirroring the way he seemed to work without much reasoning at all, had you doubled over with nauseating worry.

the soft click of a gun behind you had you stiffening.

slowly, you turned from the door, grip tight on your own revolver that you hid from sight behind the wide berth of the skirt of your evening gown.

you were met with the sight of Turner, standing poised and indigent, revolver trained on you. you didn’t miss the shake in his hands.

he looked so much less pronounced in person. graying and old and aging and just as wrinkly as you remembered him to be, but less sinister than your mind painted him. average and normal and face stricken with the same sort of roiling panic you were feeling in the moment. you took him in with a new ease.

despite being the west’s biggest gang leader, he seemed diminished in such a close proximity.

“you,” he hissed, lip curled with disgust, “i thought you were dead.”

you swallowed hard, tight throat and unable to produce a single sound.

behind him, you saw his wife cowering in the corner with his small daughter trembling in her embrace.

you narrowed your eyes at them and Turner stepped forward sharply in threat.

you found your voice, steady and strong, “where are my daddy and mama?”

he scoffed, looking away from you briefly before brandishing the revolver around at you. it only reminded yourself of when you had been scared and inexperienced with a weapon.

“afraid i killed them?” he asked with a sinister smile, and a roil of annoyance wrung through you.

you trained your gun on his wife and daughter who shrieked, the little girl shaking with sniveling cries. Turner stiffened.

“you wouldn’t,” he said, voice low and rumbling with a ferocity, and you just nodded.

“i wouldn’t, so i’ll let them leave before i kill you.”

his eyes flashed, lips twisted into a menacing scowl.

“fine.”

his wife and daughter skirted out the room, crumpled down and low to the floor as they scurried past you out the double doors of the room. as soon as you shut the entrance behind them with a shaky exhale, tuning back to Turner, he lurched towards you with a strangled shout.

you reeled back, back slamming against the doors as he swung for you, and you ducked, scrambling over the floor with a shriek. he grabbed a fistful of your dress and pulled you back towards him across the carpet, wrestling you down to the ground, and you punched and shoved at his face, rolling across the carpet and trying to squirm out of his tight grip. his hands found your neck and crushed down on your throat with a strength that pushed all the air from your lungs.

you jerked up your knee, hitting him straight in a sore spot that had him hissing and grip going slack, just enough to shove him off you with as much strength as you could muster, and he skidded away, landing against the floor with a thud.

you gasped for breath, light-headed but vision sharper than ever as you raised the revolver, just before Turner was reaching for something across the carpet—a small white box.

your eyes widened. you recognized it as the one Yue-Yi had gifted you—wreak havoc, she had said, and you watched with a curl of panic as he struck a match and threw it to the edge of the room, a blooming fire bursting forth with a rush of shocking heat that had you crossing your arms over your face with a scream.

you scrambled back from the fire that consumed the room with a terrifying speed, revolver trained on Turner’s crumpled figure sprawled over the floor a marginal distance away.

he picked up his head and gave you a sinister look.

“your daddy and mama are dead.”

a strangled, animalistic sound clawed through your throat, and you screamed as a sob wracked you, aiming your revolver and shooting him right in the knee.

he screamed, shifting away from you, the pristine white carpet pooling with a new crimson puddle and singing at the edges with an ominous black.

you struggled to breath in the room, the air tinged with a thick smog and flickers of strewn ash that felt hot when they landed on your skin.

“i doused this entire mansion with gas,” he rasped, coughing through the smoke, “if you try to kill me, you’ll burn with me.”

he laughed, body shaking violently when more coughs wracked through him, blood splattering across the carpet and painting his lips with an unnatural red.

slowly, you made your way towards your knees with a great effort, your exposed skin flushed painfully from the heat of the surrounding fire, a portion of the canopy bed behind him crumbling, fire spreading across the carpet with hot, swelling licks.

you tried to scream but couldn’t through the tight swollen soreness of your throat, edging from its path as it skirted around you.

you forced words out, a searing raw pain in your throat, “why would you do this?”

all of it? you wanted to scream, why would he try to kill you? your daddy? your mama?

then, you coughed, hand pressed to your mouth as the motion shook you to your core, tears spilling down your cheeks to dispel the smoke, and his smile only grew. 

“i own you,” he whispered, barely audible over the loud crackle of the fire, curtains melting away from the windows as the carpet peeled up from the floorboards.

“i won’t let that bastard Simon Riley take you from me.”

you almost snarled at him, tempted to aim your revolver at his head and just put a whole round into his brain. but that felt rushed and not right at all.

you wanted him to suffer. painful and slow. the thought gave you a sliver of sanity.

you hissed out, “i won’t kill you.”

his eyes flashed, twitching against the carpet like he was going to tackle you again, but the stiffness in his bloody, soaked pant leg prevented him from moving.

you smiled—so wide that it cracked your dry lips.

“i’ll leave you to burn in hell,” you said, clambering to your feet, swaying in the open air, dizzy and nausea wringing through your head, because you just couldn’t really breathe, and Turner let out a strangled cry.

“you can’t leave!” he said, voice tinged with a ferocious desperation as he clawed forward suddenly, and the quick motion had you reeling backwards and tipping back to the world swung in front of your eyes.

you fell back down against the carpet, face narrowly missing a ring of fire, more furniture crumpled chunks of ash and blackened wood just beyond it.

“i own you,” he snarled, voice a throaty sinister rasp. his hand closed around your ankle and a new curling disgust bloomed from deep within your gut.

you looked down at him and thrust the tip of your revolver against his sweaty, red forehead. his eyes blew wide, bloody lips parting with a new fearful sort of shock that twisted your stomach in the most pleasant ways you didn’t know that you could feel.

“i choose who owns me,” you whispered, and you knew he heard you from the way his eyes just stretched further, and you blew straight clean through his forehead.

he fell completely limp against the carpet, lifeless and void of the crawling desperation you had just seen mere moments before.

more tears came pouring down your cheeks and you shoved your knee into the side of his face, biting back a scream when you saw the gaping, bloody gouge of flesh in his forehead and the cool, empty placidness of his blue eyes.

you killed him. his warm grip was still around your ankle.

scrambling back away from the dead body, you gasped when the exposed skin of your arm was enveloped with something unbearably hot, wet, and rippling in undulations.

pulling your arm away from the fire, you stared in horror at the new char of your skin and the way your silk gloves had half-melted into your arm with a goopy liquidity.

the scalding pain sharpened your senses, and you hauled yourself towards the double doors, raw skin flush to the carpet, and you strained up to the handles of the doors, fingers just wrapping around it when the door opened from beneath you.

you fell forward with your eyes screwed shut, trying to push yourself off the ground, and gentle hands hoisted you towards a broad, strong body low to the ground.

“princess, princess, princess—”

lips were against your ear and you immediately curled into his touch, eyes fluttering open to see his warmth and inviting just mere inches from your own.

face maskless and bare.

you had never felt so much relief.

“Simon?” you squeaked, voice meek and quiet and half as strong as you had forced it to be the whole day. you melted into him, muscles going lax with weakness.

he hissed when you leaned against him, and you pulled back slightly to take in the charred material of his suit stuck to an oozing wetness beneath it—sopping red with blood.

you choked on more sobs but he just shushed you, stroking a hand through your hair before pressing his face to your neck, then your hair.

“it’ll be alright, princess.”

you had never heard his voice so weak before. he leaned back against the ground, the walls still up in flames around him, and you watched his body fight to stay up before sliding slowly to the ground.

you pulled yourself forward, fighting back coughs as you laid next to him.

“you need to get up,” he rasped, pushing you away with a hand. the movement just made you hiss in desperate frustration.

“no. m’staying right here,” you said, curling closer to him, and he let you, face soft and relaxed as the entrance to Turner’s bedroom crumbled just beyond your feet.

you took in the curves of his bare face—the age and lines and scars that reflected only a shimmering honesty in the fragile moment.

with great effort you craned over him to kiss that silvery scar on his upper lip, and when you pulled back he only gave you a weak smile.

“you never listen to me,” he whispered, voice throaty and wrung through, and you could only smile back.

“never,” you agreed, intertwining your fingers with his.

“i was late this morning,” he rasped, nosing through your hair, “and when i arrived you were gone.

“i thought you finally came to your bloody senses and ran away—” he was cut off by a series of wracking coughs, and you pressed your forehead to your intertwined hands, shaking with sniveling tears.

“i thought you had abandoned me,” you whispered.

he kissed the crown of your head. “never.”

you melted into him.

he sounded stricken with anger. “i’ve lied to you.”

“i know,” you said, brushing a finger over the lightness of his lashes.

“you were supposed to run away,” he said weakly, “you were never supposed to stay. since the beginning, you were supposed to run away.”

“is that why you were late this morning?” you croaked, and he nodded against your hair.

“i was relieved when you were gone,” he said, “but i think it killed me.”

with drooping eyelids and a swirling smog clouding your senses, you distantly remembered how you felt that morning. like you had left behind your shattered heart in that brothel. like you had died in that room and you left behind your body and you were floating as a ghost through the san francisco streets. 

“leaving killed me,” you said softly, through rough coughs, and he only pulled you closer. 

“you weren’t supposed to be here, either,” he muttered, breaths shallow and weak in your ear.

you craned your neck to look up at him, taking in his face fully, and the droop of his tired eyes, before thumbing over the scars along his jaw.

“anything else to confess to me?” you asked, soft and he nodded.

“i lied to you.”

your brow pinched, another cough rippling from your throat. “i know that.”

he shook his head with a weakness that had your heart crumbling. “long time ago. that night on the train.”

the breath died in your throat and he pressed his forehead against yours, warm and solid.

“i said i bedded you for revenge. i lied.”

the floor fell away from beneath you and you felt like you were floating.

“why?” you croaked, and his smile was wistful.

“so full of questions.”

“always,” you said, pressing him further, but his eyes closed, breaths growing with a louder rasp now. a violent panic crawled up your chest and you nudged him, relieved when his eyes cracked open again.

“in time,” he whispered, and the strangled, frustrated sound that left your throat that only made his smile grow.

“i’m sorry i didn’t take you on that date,” he said, and you shook your head, the tip of your nose against his.

“i know why you didn’t,” you insisted, and he frowned.

“you’re supposed to be mad at me.”

you frowned back. “stop telling me what i’m supposed to be.”

at that, he only smirked, looking strangely satisfied as he stroked a thumb over the exposed, hot, raw skin of your neck.

you took a shaky deep breath, only swallowing down more smoke that had you coughing with a grimace. “just…”

his dark, swirling eyes that were so familiar now were dimmed but just as warm. you took your charred hand, ignoring the searing pain of it, and brushed it over his blonde hair. he closed his eyes at your gentle touch.

“please kiss me,” you whispered, and his eyes fluttered open, lurching forward with a stiff clumsiness at the awkward position, and suddenly his warm lips were pressed to your own.

you didn’t know what you were doing—just that the rhythmic movement of his soft flesh molding against yours had a honey warmth dripping through your chest and fluttering down your spine.

you tried to match him, flushing at the feeling of his every breath melding into your every exhale in a never-ending steady pulse. your hands snaked into his hair and gripped softly, and a low noise left his throat.

your head spun with the lack of oxygen, and more heavenly moments stretched on until he pulled back, licking over his lips like he had by the railway yesterday. like he was tasting you.

“not bad, princess,” he whispered, eyes fluttering close with a weakness. you pressed against him, unable to fight the droop of your own eyes anymore, a pleasant muffle filling your head, and a purpling black, splotchy glaze dancing from behind your eyelids.

the last thing you felt were his lips against your cheek, the sound of the fire consuming the splintering, crumbling house with loud crackles, distant shouts, and Simon’s soft breaths against your skin.

okay okay i know that this chapter doesn't have smut or much fun stuffff but i hope you liked konig's appearance LMFAO but i can confirm that next chapter there will be 1. the do 😵‍💫 like fr this time 😵‍💫 2. JEALOUS GHOST SDLFJSLEIFJ 3. and yea less angst pls and thank you

i love all of you. please have a wonderful weekend <3 next chapter will be uploaded tuesday (ON TIME TOO)!!

[jiniret-writings]

With You

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Warnings: Reader calls Chan Chris (is that a warning?)

The metal felt cool and heavy on your wrist, but not obnoxiously so. It was a welcome weight, like someone held it. Chris finished the clasp and moved it around your wrist, making sure it wasn't too tight.

"Good?"

"Good," you said, lifting your arm above your head before letting it drop dramatically as though you had weights attached to them. Chris took your hand and kissed it before kissing your forehead.

"Be safe, yeah? And call me if you need company."

"I will. Bye, love," you said, giving him one last kiss on the lips before heading out.

This had become a little routine between the two of you. With comeback approaching and Stray Kids being busier than ever, time with your boyfriend was precious and rare. You had taken to staying at his studio with him to keep him company and spend time with him. The only drawback being that he worked long hours and hunger was inevitable to strike, so you made it a habit to go out to get the two of you food while he worked so you didn't break him out of his "zone".

Chris loved you, but he couldn't fight the bouts of worry that overtook him when you left alone late at night. Especially in the winter when the sun set so early, by the time it was time for dinner, it was pitch black outside. He had tried to get you to order delivery for meals and snacks, but you had insisted on going out yourself, saying it was good to stretch your legs. He couldn't argue with that, but it didn't help the pit in his stomach when he saw you walk out into the dark.

It was during one of these moments of eerie quiet and loneliness that the idea hit him. He was tapping away at his desk, unable to get any work done. His friends had told him about how random guys seemed to be getting bolder in the streets with girls who were alone. They told him in good faith so he could warn you--which he did--but it also made him worry more. As he was drumming his fingers, resisting the urge to text you for the fifth time in as many minutes, he looked down at the bracelet on his wrist.

It was one of his first purchases on his idol paycheck when he started making a substantial amount of money. It was a welcome weight, always serving to ground him when he felt stressed.

It was a almost useless gesture. Realistically, if someone really wanted to be a prick, they wouldn't care about a heavy bracalet on your wrist, but it brought him some peace of mind. The next day, before you could go out, he grabbed your waist and pulled you to him. Placing a small kiss on the inside of your wrist, he removed his bracelet and put it on you.

"What's this for?" you asked, confused on the gesture.

"So that I'm with you," he said, still holding your waist. "Whenever you go out, just take it off my wrist."

You looked down at it, eyes shining with love and appreciation. You understood what he had left unsaid. It looks out of place enough with the rest of your jewelry that it could only mean you got it from your boyfriend. From him.

"And," he continued, moving you so you were sitting in his lap. "If someone tried anything, it's heavy enough to be a weapon."

The smirk on his lips was mischievous, but you knew he was dead serious.

"Got it," you said softly, kissing his cheek.

And so your routine was established. Even when going out with friends, he would give you a piece of his jewelry to wear with your own. More often than not, it was a ring he wore whenever he was in the mood for one. He rationed that it was just a placeholder until he got you something more permanent and more yours.

This semester kicked my ass like no other oml. MY mistake for thinking I could keep writing in between assignments, but my professors seemed hell bent on making sure we were drowning busy. That means I have like 30 unfinished works and a need to write something fun until my fingers fall off ♡

This is an idea that's been spinning around my head for a while. It's finals week so starting next week I have all the time in the world to write! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!

-Jini

[xxkissesforchanniexx]

I just read pretty thing and oml, you're writing has me! All the praise 😩

Could I request a needy I.N? Something where like he's just horny and wants you so you guys go to your room and he fucks you. Something sweet?

I'm not big on requests so idk what to write lol. If this is something you'd be willing to write I'd appreciate it, I've been so crazy over Jeongin lately and idk why 😭😭

Have a good day 🤗

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲

Pairing: softdom!Jeongin x fem!reader Word count: 927 Genre: Smut 🔥❤️ Warning: Jeongin is a troll, not proofread, sweet name calling, possessive themes, mighta gone a lil crazy with what Jeongin says >.>, idk what else... A/N: I LITERALY FEEL SO BAD THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO OML 😭 anyways >.> I hope you like it I apologize for the wait

You were in your kitchen, contemplating what to make for dinner when you felt him hug you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder. Jeongin had been in his office/game room playing with Felix and Seungmin since late in the afternoon.

"Did you have fun?" You asked as he nuzzled your neck.

"We lost.." he muttered.

You pet his head gently, "You'll win next time."

"Seungmin sold." He huffed. "Awful tanker."

You laughed softly as you remembered Felix "suing" Jeongin for being a bad healer. "What do you want to eat for dinner?"

"I don't know." He said, licking your neck as his lips parted.

"Hmm? We won't eat then?" You rolled your eyes.

"No, just... order something." He said softly.

"Why?" You huffed.

Jeongin frowned slightly against your neck and you giggled, turning to face him.

He leaned in. "Let me kiss you?"

You kissed him gently quick and chaste. He frowned as you pulled away, before grabbing you face gently and kissing you again, his tongue prodding for entry. You opened your mouth with a soft sigh. His tongue moved into your mouth and wrestled against yours for a moment before pulling away.

Your eyes met his.

He smirked slightly, "Up." he said quietly.

You jumped and he caught you, securing your weight at your thighs and carrying you to your bedroom. "Wow, baby is so strong." You teased.

He rolled his eyes and gently set you on the bed. "Who're you calling baby?"

"You." You pinched his cheeks. "So cute, my little baby."

He kissed you hard, "Baby?" he huffed. "You don't give me enough credit."

You giggled as he pulled at your shirt kissing your jaw.

"Can I take this off sweet girl?" he asked pulling away.

You nodded and squirmed.

He pulled it off and quickly hooked his finger between your breasts pulling your bra up, smiling to himself. "I'm so lucky," he muttered, pinching one of your nipples. "these pretty tits are all mine.." he squished your breasts for a moment before smiling at you. "Can I have you, baby?"

You buck slightly. "Yes."

He smiled and kissed your nipple, taking it between his teeth and pulling gently. You let out a squeak and felt him smirk against your chest as his free hand moved into your panties.

"So wet already?" He chuckled. "Baby wants me to take care of her?"

You blush furiously as he smirks at you. "Stop talking like that."

"Doesn't matter if you say you don't like it. I can tell you love it."

"Jeongin!" You moaned out as he started rubbing your clit.

"Let me take these off you? Need you so bad baby." He kissed you, his tongue rolling around yours for a moment before he pulled away.

You nodded and he pulled your pants and panties off your legs in one motion.

"So perfect for me." he muttered before kissing you as he slipped his long fingers into you. "This pretty pussy is all for me?"

You moaned. "Yeah- P-Please!"

"Are you gonna come for me like a good girl?" he asked curling his fingers to find your g-spot.

You moaned as his fingers moved in and out of you, "Yes."

"Good girl." He pulled his fingers out. "Want me to fuck you?"

You nodded and whined.

"Magic word?" There really was no way to describe how much he loved seeing you like this, all needy for him, it made him feel less flimsy like he wasn't the one begging you earlier.

"Please." You huffed.

He smiled at you before removing his clothes, "Don't smile at me like that, it's embarrassing.."

You giggled as he leaned over you. "Not my fault you're so pretty."

He laughed and kissed you again, the room suddenly feeling hot and heady. He rubbed his tip against you, gathering your slick and his precum before muttering something about coming too fast. He kissed your neck gently and slid into you with a soft relieved groan.

You sighed a moan and held onto him tightly, "Move."

"If I say no?" he breathed shakily.

"Why would you?" Your nails dug into his arms.

He let out a gentle laugh and finally pulled out, hissing at your heat before pushing in again, and again, gaining speed with each thrust. "Feels good?" He muttered.

"Uh huh." You whimpered.

"You feel good, look at that pretty pussy stretching around me like that." He groaned softly, angling his thrusts to hit your g-spot.

You moaned a high pitch cry, it came out a squeal and Jeongin swallowed it in a deep kiss, pulling away to breathe as his hand grabbed your breast. He groaned into your neck, biting down gently, his low moans muffled by your flesh. His hand moved between your bodies and he pinched your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You gasped loudly and held onto him tightly, your brain going foggy as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"Are you going to come?" He groaned into your ear. "Come baby, come with me, please?"

You nodded and squealed, toes curling as Jeongin pushed in deeper.

"Come on, come for me." He panted, thrusts slowing as he rubbed your clit.

You came hard, legs jerking slightly, Jeongin moaned, "So cute when you do that." He thrust in only a few more times before coming deep in you.

You lay there for a moment until he muttered. "Thought you woulda called me daddy."

"I can't call a baby that." You laughed.

Jeongin gave a sarcastic laugh. "What did you want for dinner again?"

Again I apologize for this taking so long to get out. the other requests will be out when i get time. -Khxndle

[hitomisuzuya]

Hiii This suddenly popped up in my head as soon as I saw the request r open lol

Harbingers scara having a Favorite Fatui agent (it's f!reader lol) whenever he's stressed from doing paperwork he always calls her into his office to help him "relax" 👀

fatui!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. cock warming. creampie. degradation.

😳 my face while i type this oml

there was nothing more relaxing for scaramouche than sitting you on his cock and forcing you to be still while he played with and pinched your puffy little clit. he reveals in watching you squirm and struggle not to bounce yourself stupid on his cock.

his thumb skimmed lovingly across your throat as whimpers and moans bubble up into it, your walls squeezing oh so tight on his cock as he abused your clit. your eyes water as you squirm in his lap. "adorable," scaramouche cooed condescendingly, "keep looking at me just like that while you struggle," you cried out as he delivered a wet flick to your clit.

his cock throbbed between your warm walls, taking utter pleasure in seeing you soak up every bit of his cruel sexual torture. "please, let me bounce a little. i-i-" you are cut off by a pinch to your clit, his fingers digging the ache of possessive bruises into your pliable flesh.

"you what? you need it? your pathetic pleas amuse me, slut," he wagged his finger slowly around your throbbing clit. your walls spasmed tighter on his cock. "i believe your orders are keep my cock warm, no?" he grasped your jaw, forcing you to look at him as you tried to look away shyly.

"s-sir, yes sir it is," you moan, not being able to help yourself and rolling your hips a little to grind your clit on his fingers. you were met with a smack across your ass.

scaramouche groaned hearing you call him sir. "such subservience," he increased the pressure on your clit, sending your whole body quaking. your slick was oozing onto your pussy, your walls squeezing warm tight exactly like he likes.

scaramouche took his time assaulting your sensitive nipples with his tongue, further building up your desperation for him. that sweet desperation he couldn't get enough of, soaking up your delicate little whimpers.

lifting you off his cock, he sat you on the edge of his desk. "no, no please, sir. put your cock back inside of me. i'll be a good girl, i promise," you pleaded as he spread your legs.

"please, please, please," scaramouche mocked your moans, lining his cock up with your hole. he bullied his cock inside of you all at once, holding you still as he bottomed out. your hips jerked to help urge his cock into your sweet spot, moaning like you'd just been given something you'd been deprived of for too long.

how sweet of you to always help him relax like this. to let him use you as he pleased while he begrudgingly fell in love with you.

"you are fucking sucking my cock in, you are so desperate," he quickly lost control, taking out all his frustrations on your tight, obedient cunt. "you are all mine, slut. all fucking mine," his thrusts were as rough and as greedy as his words, driven with the intent to make you cum crying on his cock while he filled you.

his cock pulsed stronger between your walls seeing tears well into your eyes as you twitched on his desk in pleasure. "it will be a pleasure fucking you full," then he could concentrate on finishing this infernal paperwork.

he could more than tell you were opening your mouth to beg him to cum inside of you. he felt like rewarding you before you could do so. you are serving him so well, after all.

with a long, satisfied moan, his cock emptied inside of you. this may have been for his pleasure, but he would be damned if he didn't make you cream on his cock. "now cum. cum like the precious slut you are," he commanded, pressing a demanding kiss on your lips.

[stomach-bugg09]

hi omg i love your oldest sister fics!!!! Maybe another where she is one of the most feared warriors in the clan ? and when they leave rhe forest she meets someone (romantic) at the new clan ? the sully family is probably not accustom to seeing her be romantic and in love.;)

summary: [y/n] sully is in love, and everyone is scared.

a/n: I LOVE THIS IDEA. LIKE SO VERY MUCH. thank you so much anon for this beautiful experience, it was so fun to write. i actually am really proud of this, given it's pretty long ( 4.6k words, oml !! ) and i put a good ( insane ) amount of effort in. i also kept using this as a way to take a break from studying, so thanks for keeping me from burning out anon! feedback, reblogs, and reqs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @eywas-heir @historygeekqueen

warnings: literally none, maybe some language, a bit of angst at first ( just sad — i made myself very unhappy ), emotionally hurt + comfort, a sickening amount of fluff, really long, [y/n] x oc but this oc is actually such a sweetie pie i love him, [y/n] being the cutest little patootie of all time

change is scary

every omaticayan knew of [y/n] sully. they knew she was a fierce warrior, a strong warrior. they knew she took after her mother, the archery gene running strong through her veins right next to her urge to protect.

they all knew that, being the oldest child of their olo’eyktan, she was expected to fill the position of the tsahik one day in the far future, and her training reflected just that. not only was she deeply connected with eywa thanks to the teachings of both her mother and grandmother, but she was intelligent when it came to war. she sat in at every single war meeting with her father, silently taking note of everything that was exchanged.

after seventeen long years of listening and learning, [y/n] was considered one of the strongest warriors in their clan. she was well respected, more respected than even some of the elder warriors.

part of her soul felt pride. pride in herself, in her abilities. but, another part of her soul felt empty. almost like she’d missed a third of her childhood because she’d been busy shaking the hands of generals from other clans.

but now… now all of that, all of that time wasted as she straightened her shoulders and stood tall in front of clan leaders, time wasted as she stared at raid maps, time wasted as she trained with the most skilled warriors of the omaticaya… it was all going down the drain.

“we must leave. it is unsafe here.”

she fought tears, told herself she was far too mature for them. she swallowed screams, told herself she needed to set an example for her siblings. the only time she broke was the night before they left, leaving her on her knees before the tree of souls, begging eywa, “why? why must you do this to me? just when i was this close?”

[y/n] was not sad. no, she was angry. but she had nobody to be angry at. it wasn’t like her parents were wrong for wanting to keep her family safe.

maybe if i’d killed that avatar when i had the chance, she cursed herself, remembering when her arrow’d been pointed directly at the heart of quaritch, only being interrupted by the other avatar that shot at her. thanks to the will of eywa, he was a terrible shot and she came out unscathed.

she held a stoic look upon her face during the ceremony in which her father passed along the title of olo’eyktan to tarsem. it wasn’t that she had anything against tarsem and his mate—in fact, she thought they were considerably good choices. but that was supposed to be her. that was supposed to be her ceremony.

by the time they had to leave, [y/n] had nothing left, no energy left to try and hold it down. so, instead she remained silent, because if she decided to say a farewell to even one person… she knew herself well enough to not trust the floodgates.

as they flew, her butt growing sorer and sorer by the second, she remained distant. the air was calming, the breeze allowing her a moment to breath.

she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t notice her family exchange glances, all silently deciding to leave [y/n] to work through it herself. they knew her, and they knew she would not let them help. i’m fine, she would say, and she would keep saying it until they finally gave up.

it was only when they reached their new home in the metkayina clan that she began to show herself again, but even that was the tiniest peek.

as ronal circled the group of foreigners, her hands trailing over them as to check out what features they offered, [y/n] immediately felt on alert. her ears perked, eyes narrowing at the tsahik, a growl growing at the back of her throat.

when she held up lo’ak’s hand for the entire clan to see, as if shaming him for his lineage—a lineage that he was born into without a choice, [y/n] stepped forward, teeth bared. immediately, neteyam pulled her backwards, just as jake did with neytiri.

her action pulled ronal’s attention, their eyes locking. the tsahik circled her, watching as [y/n]’s tail swished, lip curled in disgust.

ronal did not miss as her eyes flared for even a split second as she stopped in front of the girl, grabbing [y/n]’s face with one hand. the air immediately got tenser, tonowari and jake sharing very similar expressions of concern, the latter grabbing his mate before she could make any dumb decisions.

[y/n]’s tail fell to a pause, her air stuck in her chest as she stared directly into the metkayina woman’s eyes.

“if you are seeking refuge, i suggest that you don’t threaten anyone.”

[y/n] bared her teeth at that, fangs making a show just for her. “if you are seeking to make enemies with the toruk makto, then why don’t you just say that?”

now, in this moment, most members of the metkayina clan were justifiably upset. speaking to their tsahik like that? well, of course they would be angry. but, in the crowd of metkayina stood one boy, his eyes unable to leave that girl. that girl who was full of anger, of spite, of bitterness for the world. she was captivating.

as the rest of the crowd gasped at the seventeen year old’s words, he couldn’t help but laugh, immediately covering his mouth as his friends sent him a look and an elbow in the ribs.

the only other person to smile at her words was, shockingly, ronal. the tsahik felt the smallest grin rise to her lips, taking her hand off of the girl’s face and taking a step back. as soon as she was back with tonowari, it was like the look of amusement had never been there.

once she’d stepped back, silence seemed to settle in the air. it was heavy, weighing on [y/n]’s shoulders just as much as the look her father sent her. behave, remember? he seemed to be telling her.

her mother’s look of pride made her feel a bit better, though.

as a way to regain the attention of the crowd, tonowari cleared his throat. “toruk makto is a great war leader. all na’vi people know his story.” he then locked eyes with jake. “but we metkayina are not at war.” [y/n]’s eyes followed tuk, watching as the small girl walked over to her father, allowing for the father to pick her up and hold her in his arms. “we cannot let you bring your war here.”

jake nodded in agreement. “i’m done with war, okay. i just.. want to keep my family safe.” at that, they seemed to pull closer together, neytiri grabbing the hands of her two eldest daughters.

“uturu has been asked,” the mother added, her eyes meeting those of tonowari.

the silence was deadly. [y/n] could feel pins of anxiety, her breath getting shallower. and what if they send us away? where else would we go? just keep trying and trying to find someone to take us?

after what seemed like forever, tonowari turned away from them and towards the people. “toruk makto and his family will stay with us.” immediately, relief flooded her body, her head dropping in appreciation. “treat them as your brothers and sisters. they do not know the sea, so they will be like babies taking their first breath.” at that, [y/n] felt her mother cringe beside her. and, as a wonderful way to finish their introduction to the metkayina people, he added, “teach them our ways so they not suffer the shame of being useless.”

she felt neteyam’s grab her tail at that, tugging it to keep her from saying anything stupid.

“okay,” jake sighed, relieved. he turned to his family. “what do we say?”

“thank you,” they all mumbled except for tuk whose tone was very genuine.

[y/n], however, remained silent. at a sharp look from her father, she swallowed. “thank you,” she added, exhaling a deep breath.

beside tonowari stood two kids, a boy and a girl. “my son ao’nung and my daughter tsireya will show your children what do,” he informed the family. [y/n] stifled a chuckle as the boy, ao’nung, tried to argue his way out of it. “it has been decided,” tonowari shut him down.

tsireya, however, looked more than happy to do it, and based on the way her baby brother was staring at the metkayina girl, lo’ak didn’t seem to mind either. “come, i will show you our village.”

if there was one thing that shocked [y/n] during her time in awa’atluI, it was that she horridly terrible. terrible at everything. from riding an ilu to being a quick swimmer. it was awful. and maybe the whole brink of the problem was the fact that she could barely hold her breath for a time, making it nearly impossible to learn to do anything else.

it’d been a few weeks of relearning the ways of life, and it felt as if she was making absolutely no progress. the simple things, such as food and even dancing, came easy to her. but learning to make food and dance was not going to make her a successful warrior, and even tonowari knew they needed to train her to fight with them based on the stories that her father told of her. ( he also recognized her the moment that ronal faced her off—how could tonowari forget the face of one of most mature eight year olds that he’d ever met way back in the day when he visited the omaticaya for a war meeting. )

but, for the love of eywa, [y/n] was useless. completely and utterly! and the fact of it made her sick to her stomach.

ao’nung was her first teacher, and he was a complete imbecile. tsireya was patient with her, but her optimism made me feel even guiltier by the day. eventually, one day out of the blue, the two children of ronal and tonowari brought forth a male.

this male was around [y/n]’s age. he was tall, muscular, and based on his tattoos, he was an announced warrior of the metkayina. tsireya introduced him as fali.

it turned out, based on further conversation between [y/n] and tsireya, that fali had grown up with the two kids. he was the son of respected warrior, a warrior that was considered ronal’s best friend. in a way, fali was like their big brother.

at that, [y/n] thought that… maybe they could be friends. maybe they had more in common!

she was wrong, and after a days of knowing him, she came to the conclusion that their older sibling roles happened to be the only thing in common.

while [y/n] was smart, responsible, respectful… fali was stupid, annoying, and careless. it was driving [y/n] up the wall! if he was the “older sibling,” why did he egg ao’nung on? if he was the “older sibling,” why did he dare the younger boys to go beyond the reef? if he was the “older sibling,” why was he so… reckless?

so, to say that [y/n] was exhausted with both him and the entirety of trying to rewire her brain, well… that would be a major understatement.

but, alas, she was still expected to learn. unfortunately for her, she took the role as the older sibling quite seriously, and she tried to set a good example out of herself!

now she treaded water in the middle of the reef, the sun beaming down on her face and shoulders. in front of her floated fali, the boy drifting stomach up with his hands rested behind his head.

[y/n] did not look amused, as unfortunate as fali found it. he was letting the sun practically burn his face off, and she wouldn’t even smile!

after an excruciating amount of time, fali let out a yelp of surprise when he felt her hand grab his tail, yanking him downwards. when he resurfaced, she had the faintest shadow of a grin. she nearly drowns me and she still can’t smile fully. what is wrong with her?

while [y/n] thought fali to be reckless and far too carefree, fali found her to be way too uptight. i mean, sure, old habits die hard after being raised as the future tsahik, but couldn’t she let loose once in a while?

“can we please start?” the girl asked, tone exasperated.

he rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “well, i apologize. i didn’t realize you were so eager to learn. i mean, you usually just complain.”

[y/n] sighed, sending him a look of annoyance. he does not shut up, does he? but, he wasn’t wrong… however, she didn’t let him know that her heart dropped once he decided to actually start teaching her for the day.

it was an unusually long lesson, but it was filled with the same issues as every other day. fali telling her what to do, [y/n] being unable to do it, [y/n] getting mad at herself, fali trying to help her fix it, [y/n] telling him that she’s fine, fali stepping back and watching her battle herself… it was always a pleasant time.

this time, however, things just seemed to be a little more on edge. she seemed to be a little more annoyed. at him, at herself. she was a balloon ready to burst, and fali was bracing himself for the moment that she did.

it was after the sixth time in which she failed to breath correctly that he knew it was going down. he watched her face flush, eyes narrowing as she continued to try and fix it.

“no, [y/n],” he offered, voice soft. she always made him feel guilty, guilty of ever getting annoyed. he knew that she was trying her best. “just… breathe from here. pretend as if there’s a flame within your belly, offering your lungs support and warmth.”

“i’m trying!” she snapped, eyes brimming with tears before she quickly turned away, eyes avoiding his eyes.

the two faded to silence, simply sitting on a rock in the middle of the reef, staring at the setting sun ahead of them. the horizon was gorgeous, a beautiful orange contrasting the blue of the sea.

they sat there, in silence, until just before eclipse.

as they neared curfew, [y/n] inhaled deeply, preparing herself to get up and leave. but, a gentle hand on her knee stopped her. she turned to fali.

“do you know what i think?” he began, voice gentle. “i think that you are more than capable to do this.”

[y/n] scoffed. “if that were true, i would be out there, not stuck with… with you!”

at that, he huffed a laugh, running his fangs over his bottom lip. “i’m going to ignore that comment and continue getting to my point,” he jokes, his eyes widening at the smallest flicker of a smile on her lips. “i believe that something, whether you realize it or not, is keeping you from being successful—my guess being that it’s subconscious—but i digress. i believe that you are scared, [y/n]. scared of doing it right, scared of becoming one of the metkayina because once you are one of our people, you feel like you are betraying your home.”

the girl beside him shook her head in disbelief. “you believe? or you know? because you sure said that—that soliloquy—as if you know me.” [y/n] stood up, taking a few steps backwards. “i have known you for seven days, fali. seven days! and suddenly you decide that you can analyze me?”

fali laughed at that. “seven days is enough for you to decide that you hate me!” he pointed out, a disbelieving smile playing on his lips.

“well, you wear everything on the outside. every bit of stupidity, recklessness, carelessness.” she grit her teeth. “you are an open book, and i am closed. that is the truth.”

“i wear what i want to wear,” fali argued, standing up to face her, the two getting closer by the second. they got closer by the insult thrown. “you think i am dumb, but i am not. i am smart enough to make it so that people like you—people who do not care to look past their own bubble—cannot see my vulnerabilities.”

[y/n] bared her teeth. “you think me ignorant? blind, even? i have seen more of the world than you, i have fought dream-walkers, watched as my baby siblings had death looming above their heads. you are clueless to what is beyond awa’atlu.” a growl built in the back of her throat, their faces extremely close together. “i build my—my ‘bubble,’ as you called it—because i know what is beyond your dimwitted understanding!”

the two were silent, the tension electric between them. behind them the sun was set beyond the horizon, eclipse having already passed. waves lapped at the rock, the incoming high tide making it so their feet were splashed with the salty water.

as they stared at each other, a sense of understanding seemed to bless both of them. fali’s eyes never left those of [y/n]... her ( beautiful ) narrowed eyes. and [y/n] didn’t miss the way that the moons reflected on fali’s aquamarine skin, his bioluminescent freckles splattering the sides of his face.

[y/n] could have sworn she felt herself lean in, towards him, until the familiar call of her mother brought her back to reality.

“[y/n]?” neytiri called from their marui.

the girl swallowed, stepping back quickly. she cleared her throat before yelling back, “coming!” and with one last look at fali, she dove into the waters.

the next few days were odd, to put it simply. suddenly, there was no aggravation towards each other, but it was much more tense in an… awkward way.

a part of [y/n] was filled with spite, and by the time they got to working again, she was doing better than she had been for weeks. she was actually making progress! and it was all to shove it in fali’s face.

unfortunately for her, fali was much more hesitant when it came to helping her. he refused to touch her stomach as to help her breathing, his movements stiff and scared, resembling that of a baby hexapede.

but, [y/n] didn’t need him…? the others found it extremely peculiar. one day, she’s out past curfew, and right after she suddenly fixed nearly all her mistakes. very odd indeed…

it did not take long for her first free dive. her breathing improved astoundingly, her swimming technique also getting better from watching tsireya when she showed kiri and tuk around the reef.

“do you see this shell?” fali held it up, the sunlight reflecting off of its shiny exterior.

she rolled her eyes. “yes, i see the shell.”

“that’s good.” he blinked, eyes shifting away from her’s with a sheepish grin. “uh, anyway,” he continued, clearing his throat. “i assume you understand the drill? i drop it, you find it.”

“yes, fali,” she sighed. “i am fully aware of how this works. now, i would rather get it done with soon so i don’t have to live in anxiety anymore.” [y/n] locked eyes with fali. “please just drop the shell.”

and he did. she swallowed as she watched it float down, the depths looking much more abyssal-like than they normally did.

“remember,” fali’s soft tone grabbed her attention, “there is nothing to fear. you are stronger than you know, and if you begin to doubt yourself… think of you returning with the shell and rubbing it in my face.” at that, [y/n]’s face flushed, embarrassed. he smiled at her expression. “yes, i know that’s the only reason you’ve suddenly been trying, but… if it works, it works.”

and for once, she smiled. actually smiled. and fali felt himself burst with pride. somehow, it felt better that it wasn’t one of his stupid jokes, or his silly slip-ups. no, he made her smile just by talking to her. by being fali.

stunned, fali only remembered that he was supposed to be helpful when she stared at him expectantly with those bright [e/c] eyes of her’s. he lifted his hands, miming lungs filling with air as he reminded, “deep breath. this is all yours. nothing to fear, only to look forward to.”

with that, the girl dove in.

underneath the surface, she felt at peace. for the first time ever, [y/n] wasn’t freaking out while submerged in the salty water. instead, her jaw seemed to gape in awe at the scenery around her.

the deeper she went, the more starstruck that she was. there were layers to this reef that she hadn’t even been aware of. layers that she’d only heard from tales of her siblings, not truly understanding how magical they actually were.

as she kicked her feet towards the ocean floor, she heard fali’s voice in her head. “the way of water has no beginning and end.” she caught sight of the shell. “the sea is around you and in you. the sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.” she stifled a cry of joy as a school of fish swam around her, tickling her sides with their soft touches. “our hearts beat in the womb of the world. our breath burns in the shadows of the deep.” she was nearly there, her hand outstretched to grab the small artifact. “the sea gives and the sea takes.” she got it! oh, eywa, she got it! it was in her hand! oh, how proud fali will be! “water connects all things.” she began to swim up, a smile stuck on her face. “life to death,” she resurfaced, “darkness to light.”

“fali!” she cried, spinning around in a circle to catch the eyes of the boy. “fali, look!” she held it up, her expression beaming with pride.

and fali couldn’t help it either, his own smile taking over his features. “[y/n]!” he exclaimed, jumping off of the rock and swimming to her. “you did it! oh, eywa, you actually did it!” he stared at the shell as they tread water. “oh, how proud i am!”

her silence caused him to turn, staring her in the eyes. “[y/n]?”

she swallowed, her eyes locked on the shell in her hands. “fali,” she began, voice quiet. “i have a wallowing fear that you were right.”

at those words, fali gaped silently. instead of answering right away, he began to tug her towards the rock, allowing for them to get out of the water so her could properly comfort her.

once she was settled on the rock, she carefully placed the shell down, pulling her knees close to her chest. she felt like a child again, helpless against her emotions. “i was scared. not of the ocean, not of swimming, not of drowning.” she looked up, locking eyes with fali. “i was scared of abandoning my people.”

a tear dropped from her eye, and fali immediately had her hands resting on [y/n]’s biceps. “hey,” he called softly, forcing her to look him in the eyes again. “you are not abandoning them. you are… learning. you are learning how to adapt, how to survive. in fact, i think that is more in touch with your culture and ancestors! you are just like them, trying to adapt and survive in a world that is trying to kill you.” she smiled a little at that. maybe he wasn’t so stupid. “you are not weak for fearing change… you are normal. it is okay to be normal every once in a while, as much as you enjoy being the big sister that is oh-so mature and oh-so strong.” his finger lifted her chin up, a soft smile on his lips. “because people who love you do not mind how mature, or strong, or stupid, or careless, or responsible, or up-tight you are. because you, [y/n], are what you are.”

once he was finished, he noticed that [y/n]’s tears were dried, a smile on her face. a look in her eyes had him floored… oh, she was so beautiful, wasn’t she?

luckily for fali, she seemed to think the same of him, raising her arm, grabbing the back of his head, and bringing his smiling lips against her’s.

the sully family knew and loved [y/n]. of course they did! she was their’s, afterall. but, they also knew that she was never this easy-going or even this happy.

both jake and neytiri knew they’d seared little moments of trauma into the brain of their eldest daughter, and they hated knowing that, but parenting is never easy. especially when she was expected to become the tsahik way back when.

but, ever since a few weeks ago, ever since she finally overcame her own issues regarding leaving the omaticaya, ever since she finally found someone that she loved as much as she loved her family ( and he seemed to love her even more ), she was a new person. a better person. a person who actually seemed to enjoy life.

neteyam and lo’ak were the first to become skeptical. ever since her successful free-dive, she’d been so.. giddy. it was not their big sister.

kiri started to catch on when she noticed [y/n] disappearing four hours at a time, and when she came back, she was ten times happier.

neytiri and jake were so wrapped up in the fact that their eldest was finally living a happy life, they didn’t once question, “hm, why could that be?”

it was only when [y/n] returned home a little late one night after the rest of the family, minus tuk since she was still quite young, had a busy day full of duties. she blamed it on finishing an errand with her new best friend, fali, but neytiri scanned her daughter’s body for any sign of injury. neytiri was just that type of mama bear!

“[y/n],” she began, eyes narrowed at her neck. “did you get bitten today? are the bugs bad on that side of the island?”

[y/n]’s face flushed almost immediately. she swallowed, grabbing her hair to cover her neck. “yeah—” she attempted, before tuk interrupted. [y/n] immediately cursed herself, remembering the stupid excuse that fali and her’d made up to cover-up their “hang-out” when tuk had walked in unexpectedly.

“uh, no, mom,” the youngest said matter-of-factly. “she was playing shark with fali. obviously.”

immediately, the sully family burst into confusion.

“[y/n]!” neytiri scolded, although her eldest daughter didn’t miss the amused smile that played on her lips.

kiri burst into laughter. “that’s why you’ve been so happy? because a guy? who even are you?” she teased.

lo’ak was absolutely losing his mind, face flushed from the laughter he was overcome by at the reality of it all. his big sister, little-miss-uptight, getting her first kiss before him and neteyam? unbelievable!

neteyam was absolutely shocked, face frozen in disbelief. “you? fali?”

jake, of course, was on immediate protective dad mode. “fali? the son of vi’ieo and fpai?” he questioned, eyes squinted at [y/n].

all [y/n] could do was sit there, a hand covering her mouth. of all people, tuk had to expose her. it’s always the ones you least expect.

but, despite the surprise of it all, the sully family was extremely happy. [y/n], the one who entered the metkayina by trying to one-up the tsahik and also deal with her own absolute soul-crushing homesickness, was making a life here in awa’atlu. and they couldn’t be more proud.

someone was suckered into a part ii

[txtmetonight]

Garlicky Revenge ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ Jungwon hates your new punishment

pairing *. * Vampire! Yang Jungwon x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff

warnings *. crude language, it's just really fluffy lol, grammar mistakes

call duration⋆ ★ 824

a/n*. * I loved this one but please tell me why it took me forever to find a pic for the banner oml and he's so cute i'm gonna cry help me

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

“(Y/n), you’re not serious, are you?”

“As serious as I can be, Jungwon!” You scoff, turning away to withhold a growing smile on your face, yet it slowly diminishes when your eyes water from the intense smell, strung upon your neck.

“You can’t refuse me like this, love! You… you don’t even like it either, I can see it on your face!” He points an accusatory finger at you, making you burst into loud chuckles before you shake your head.

“You told me that you would stop sneaking behind me like that when I was in the bathroom. I almost had a fucking heart attack because of you yesterday. This is what you get now.”

Jungwon cringes at the way garlic moves when you sway back and forth, waiting for him to take a step closer, a rather smug grin on your face when his lips quirk down into a nastier grin. “This isn’t fair!” He whines, sounding like a petulant toddler. “I’ve missed you so much and you won’t even let me hug you?! I think I might actually die.”

“You’re not going to die, Wonnie. Plus, you’ve lived without me for like… 400 years before. What’s another week?” You’re teasing; the stench was already giving you a well-deserved headache, so it wouldn’t be long before you took the odd neckwear off. But it was still amusing to see the way that he freezes completely, going paler than he was before.

“You–you’re kidding? A week?! I’m not waiting for that long!” He cries, and before you know it, a small black cat appears just where Jungwon stands, its eyes already pulled to mimic great sorrow.

It meows and wails pitifully, pawing the living room carpet, knowing well enough that cats were preferably your biggest weakness. A trump card played well by your boyfriend whenever times become desperate.

“Oh, you can’t do that to me!? That’s so not fair!”

The cat (Jungwon) rolls over in despair and raises a furry paw over its head to mimic death, letting out a shrill cry. Rounding the island countertop, you finally sigh and give in by taking off the garlic and wiping your neck and hands with a wet washcloth while you try to trap some of the anger you were feeling before.

But how could you even be furious at him, even when he transforms back into his normal self, sharp canines glinting while he happily smiles at you, his back on the ground? Your heart swells at the sight, and butterflies skim your stomach. “I fucking hate you, Yang Jungwon,” you grumble, yet you couldn’t help but scoot a little closer to him sheepishly.

Perhaps you did miss him more than you wanted to admit.

“Really? Well, that’s a shame because I really love you, pretty girl.” Jungwon pats next to him, and when you point at your neck, where the spice left its odor on your skin, he waves it off dismissively. “A really big shame,” you giggle when he slightly gags at your arm touching his cheek. Nevertheless, he pulls you closer and pretends to chomp on your hand, your cheeks turning red as he puts a soft kiss to where he bit you.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I was going to die if you weren't in my life anymore.”

You shake your head and press a chaste kiss to his jaw. “Me too. I don’t think I can imagine my future without you.”

“Yeah, but would you drive a stake through your heart for me?” He jokes but then goes silent when you just stare at him, eyes swirling with so much love, his non-beating heart thrumming alive for a few moments, just under your gaze.

“I would willingly live with you for eternity.”

Jungwon’s eyes grow wide as he gets up from his position to look at you in awe. “No, you woul–”

“I would really. For you, Wonnie… I suppose I would do anything,” you say, and before he could say anything, you pull him into a kiss, soft and sweet. His fingers cascade the side of your face gently, and your hand encases itself in his hair, tugging it lightly when he wouldn’t let you take a breath.

“I love you. I really do,” he quietly says.

“I love you too.”

And the moment goes silent for a while, your lips just ghosting over him in a tender peace you wished would last forever. With him by your side.

But then the gentle second is lost when Jungwon opens his stupid mouth, earning a hit from you.

“You said you would do anything, yeah? First off, please don’t ever punish me with garlic ever again; I was seriously going to cry!”

“Really? Next time, I’m going to move houses and never ever invite you inside!”

Jungwon gasps and clutches his shirt dramatically. It makes you roll your eyes, but you rub your cheek over his chest in affection.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

[gummydummy19]

Hi Gummy!<3

You shared that awful experience and I imagine...

Captain Sy and his insubordinate younger brother. His brother (let's say, Jim?) flirted with you in a pub. You don't really spark and he seemed a bit too slick for your liking, but Jim is persistent and (gradually annoying). It was not long before Captain Sy came barging in and took his younger brother home (and surprise surprise, Jim isn't reaching his drinking age yet XD), which is how you met. Maybe you met him again a few days later in the same pub, maybe you worked on a project that involves the military (hence Sy)

And somehow one of the worst encounters you have had in your life turns out to be the one in which you met the love of your life :3

Just a lil thot :3

JDHDKHCB JAM WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE THE BEST IDEAS I absolutely freaking love this oml

How I met your mother

Content Warnings: fluff, swearing, unwanted flirting (from Sy's brother)

Word Count: 1.9k+

A/N: Since we're in the middle of the holidays, I decided to give this a little holiday twist :)) Imagine this as a throwback to how you met your hunky husband Sy... In the throwback Jim is 19, Sy is 27, and the reader is 23. In the present Sy is 42, reader is 38, Jim is 34.

Alright? All clear? Everyone good? Let's get this party started then

The entire family was gathered around your beautifully decorated dining table. It was well past midnight, and everyone was stuffed full of delicious food and the expensive wine you saved for special occasions. Sy had his hand resting on your thigh as you both listened to his dad share stories of when he was in the Navy.

"Fuck!" you heard your 13-year-old son yell from the couch behind you, waking up your 9-year-old daughter who was dozing off on her dad's lap.

"Jacob!" you snapped your head back at him, but the boy just rolled his eyes at you.

He was playing some new zombie-murder-call thievery videogame he had gotten for Christmas, courtesy of his uncle Jim.

"Don't you roll your eyes at your mother", Sy stepped in, "and watch your mouth, or that game is going on the shelf till summer."

"But dad!" he whined

"No buts!"

Now it was your turn to put your hand on your husband's thigh, giving him a sweet look to let him know you'd handle it.

"Jake, why don't you come sit with us for a little bit, hmm? Haven't you played long enough?"

"Oh come on, let the kid have some fun", Jim chimed in, earning an angry glare from his brother Sy.

"Yeah and who better to teach him that than his uncle Jim, right?" Sy spat.

"What's that supposed to mean?", Jim shot back.

"You know damn well what that means."

"Dad?" your little girl tugged on Sy's shirt.

"Yes, princess?"

"Don't you think Uncle Jim is fun?"

"Of course I do, Maya, it's just that Uncle Jim used to give us a whole lot of trouble, just like your brother gives us right now."

"Hey!" Jim and Jacob groan simultaneously.

"Oh, I think Jim caused quite some more trouble than our Jakey", you defended your son, who had finally sat down next to you at the table. You gave him a loving ruffle through his brown curls, remembering what Sy's hair used to look like before he started buzzing it off.

"Yeah well, give him a couple years", Jim joked.

"What kinda trouble did Uncle Jim get into?", your little girl chimed in again.

The three of you exchanged some looks before you finally spoke up. "Oh, I can think of a few things, but my favorite one is the story of how your father and I met", you smiled.

"Oh god", Jim groaned, "Can't you just tell them about the pranks I pulled in college or something?"

"No no", Sy chuckled, "I quite like this particular story".

"I love storytime!" your daughter yelled out excitedly.

"I'm kinda intrigued now too," Jake agreed, grinning at his uncle.

Sy's mother gave her husband a look as she sipped from her herb tea and you knew she loved this story too.

"It was 15 years ago", you started, "Me and my friends had just graduated college that summer. By wintertime, a couple of us had started working, or even gotten married, so we decided to catch up right before the holidays"

Flashback

"I can't believe it's almost been six whole months since we've all gotten together" your friend Sarah chided before taking a sip of her cosmo. “I know, I’ve missed you guys like crazy!” You said honestly. The five of you sat there and talked for what felt like hours, sipping on cosmo’s and sharing the juiciest stories from work or dating drama. It was like no time had passed at all.

“Alright girls, I’m gonna go get another refill anyone else need anything?”, you asked as you got up to walk towards the bar. The drinks were definitely starting to get to your head, but you didn’t care in the slightest. This was the most fun you’d had in weeks.

With a fuzzy head, you made your way over to the bar, still giggling at a joke your friend made 10 minutes ago. Leaning against the polished wood, you managed to catch the bartender's attention. "Um, two... wait, no, three more of these," you mumbled in your slightly tipsy state as you shoved your empty glass toward him.

You were patiently waiting for your drinks when a young, arrogant-looking guy slid up next to you, "Hey there! What are we drinking tonight?" he asked and you rolled your eyes.

"Just a couple drinks with my friends" you replied curtly, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Just you and your girls, huh? No boyfriend?"

"Nope."

"Are you looking for one?"

"Nope."

"Hmm I see, more a hit and run kinda gal, huh?" he smirked.

Damn, this guy was annoying.

"Look pal, I'm trying to have a good time with my girls, alright?" You finally turned to look at him. He sure wasn't ugly, but not your type. Besides, he looked a little on the young side you thought and you started to wonder if he should even be in here.

"That's alright baby, I'm all for good times", he stated with a proud grin, making you roll your eyes again.

The bartender slid over your drinks and grabbed them quickly "I'm not your 'baby', now if you will excuse me", you pushed passed him but his hand gently grabbed onto your waist.

"Oh come on, don't be like that...", if your hands hadn't been full you would have smacked him in the face for sure. You looked down at his hands on you and then straight into his eyes.

"You have about two seconds to get your hands off me before you get covered in Cosmo's and my knee introduces itself to your crotch."

"I just-" he started and you got ready to throw your 30 dollars worth of cocktails in his face.

"JIM!", a loud roar sounded through the bar, grabbing everyone's attention, including yours and the guy holding onto you.

He quickly dropped his hands and took a step back from you as the man who just entered stalked towards him. The entire movement made you drop your drinks, but you were too startled to care.

"L-logan....the hell are you doing here, man?", the boy stuttered and his whole demeanor changed in a split second.

"Me? What the fuck do you think you're doing here?!", you let your eyes roam over his body as he yelled out. He was clearly older than you. And definitely older than the arrogant guy. It was obvious that they knew each other. You wondered how. They seemed like two very different guys. The older one had a casual confidence whereas the younger one had made up arrogance.

You stayed frozen in place as you watched them yell at each other. The more you looked at their faces the more you started to notice similarities. The older one was bigger, with quite a bit more muscle to him, but they had the same strong jaw and nose, and their eyes were the same gorgeous shade of blue. Could they be...

"Miss, I'm really sorry for my brother."

"I uhm,...okay, that's okay", you mumbled.

The man gave you a friendly look before sticking his hand out.

"I'm Logan Syverson, but everyone calls me Sy. And that's my little brother Jimmy. I'm really sorry if he gave you any trouble, he's been acting out a bit lately."

You shook his hand without breaking eye contact. The second your skin made contact with his you felt your stomach drop...weird.

"Hey, I'm not a fucking kid!" Jim yelled out, earning an angry glare from Sy.

"Then maybe you should stop acting like one, Jimmy. You really think I wouldn't notice you taking my fucking bike? Huh?", Sy yelled, "You're taking the truck back home. Gimme my fucking keys back."

Reluctantly, Jim gave Sy the keys to his bike and Sy gave him the car keys in return.

"You didn't drink, did you?" Sy asked with a raised brow.

"No, Logan, I fucking didn't. Okay?!" he snapped before turning around and storming out. While you heard the car door slamming closed and the engine starting outside, Sy turned back to you.

"I'm really sorry about all that..." he scratched through his brown curls before his eye fell on the puddle of Cosmo's on the floor, "Oh christ, uh, here, please let me buy you a new round," he said, already pulling out his wallet.

"Oh no, no it's okay really, you don't have to", you assured him.

"No, I insist. I promise I won't stick around to bother you or anything, but just let me pay for them, please?"

Now how could you say no to that?

"Alright then, if you insist", you gave him a sweet smile.

The two of you walked to the bar and as you waited for your order, you couldn't help but give him a once-over. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans and a black shirt with some old writing on it. He was much taller than you, and big...very big. With a mind that was still half tipsy, you couldn't help the words that left your mouth next.

"You know...", you started, getting his attention, "I wouldn't mind if you did stick around for a bit...to bother me."

You swore Sy's eyes twinkled for a second as you looked up at him. Of course, he found you attractive. You were probably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Scratch that. Not probably, definitely.

But still, the gentleman in him wanted to politely refuse, given your clouded state and what his brother made you endure already, but then your hand touched his arm and your eyes found his. "Please? I insist", you pleaded, and Sy caved. "Alright then, if you insist...", he was only a man after all, and he could only take so much.

Meanwhile, at the girl's table, everyone was far too drunk and caught up in whatever story they were telling to have noticed what just went down. But all the giggling came to a quick stop when a tall handsome man towered over them with four cosmopolitans in his hand.

"Ladies, this is Sy", you introduced him, holding three more drinks, "My savior of the night, and the buyer of our next round."

End flashback

"Aww, dad was her hero!", Maya yelled out.

"He still is", you smiled, leaning into Sy and pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

"Hold on. So, you tried to hit on mom?", Jake turned to his uncle, "That's gross, dude."

"Alright, okay, I remember that story a little differently", Jim spoke up, looking even grumpier than before.

"He was just a teenager", you defended your brother-in-law.

"I was almost twenty", Jim stated.

"Yeah, that doesn't exactly help your case, bud", Sy spoke up, wrapping his arm around you as you tried to stifle a giggle.

"So what happened after that?", Maya asked curiously.

"Well, your dad was too nervous to ask for my number, so I asked for his."

"Hey! I was just trying to be a gentleman", Sy defended argued, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Sure thing, hun", you grinned, "The week after we met up again in that same bar, and the rest is history."

"Is that bar still there?", Jacob asked.

"Actually, they turned it into a restaurant, but it's still called Mickey's."

"Hey, isn't that where...", your son started

"Where your dad proposed to me, yeah." you smiled fondly. "and we still go there every year on our anniversary..."

The end

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