#you know the one (me saying this knowing there's less than two people and a half who follow me for sookai)

[cheer-nympho]

Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.

Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,

But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,

Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?

He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.

When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.

Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.

“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.

And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.

This court jester is really fucking hot.

He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.

Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.

An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’

He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.

He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.

“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.

He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”

“It certainly makes an impression-“

“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”

“Steve is fine.”

“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”

“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”

“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.

So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.

Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”

He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.

“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.

“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.

Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.

Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?

But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.

The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.

Shit.

He forgot to watch the fucking hands.

[susansontag]

hello, I heard you called.

the word ‘lazy’, you will find, is in quotation marks, because I personally do not think audiobook listeners are lazy, but there are many other posts and discussions about this latest thinkpiece topic on the internet, including some in which these people trying to redefine literacy jokingly allude to themselves as lazy. but you knew this, because you know what quotation marks mean, and you would never accuse someone quoting an argument in a book with necessarily sharing the view quoted, because you know how basic punctuation functions—you even used quotation marks in your own latest response, so you absolutely know what they mean! so you can stop lying now.

you can also, for that matter, cease your blatant lying about other things. let me walk you through.

I did indeed say reading is a more psychologically sophisticated process than listening. this is true, because decoding written language must be taught to someone, and is called gaining literacy. I never said that people lack psychological complexity if they can’t read, though you falsely claimed I did (and I quote)—‘you just think they have less “psychological complexity,” an argument used to support aristocracy and colonialism’. I never assigned ‘psychological complexity’ (your words) to individual human beings anywhere in my response, I simply said one process out of the many processes our brains can undertake requires deeper and more sophisticated processing whilst said process is taking place (the process: reading, or the decoding of written language made by possible by written/typed/etc symbols). again, this is about the sophistication of a particular process, not about the relative sophistication (or your word, ‘complexity’) of the brains of different individuals or groups! but again, this was quite obvious if you read my response in good faith, fully willing to engage with the argument being made on its own terms (that redefining reading is a bad thing).

I can accept it may have been accidental, but considering you went on to transpose my viewpoint onto someone else who very considerately tried to explain this view to you—someone in education, no less, who clearly has great reason to feel strongly about this topic—I’d think you really should have brushed up on your cursory glance at my reply. especially seeing as you responded again and again, digging your heels into this imaginary thing no one has said.

your point about colonialism isn’t worth dignifying with more response, you’ve attached a meaningful concept onto your fabrications to lend them more weight somehow. no one fell for it.

it seems you even agree with us, that reading and listening are different skills. why you then continued on this tirade it’s difficult to ascertain. regardless, as per your last response there’s no reason to hand-wring about my believing your given definition of reading as ‘understanding the words and sentences and meanings that the text serves the function of conveying’, because that is not a definition that takes into account the decoding of symbols and thus is not an adequate definition of reading. this one will suffice:

so, let’s review. you have lied (deliberately or accidentally) that I believe audiobook listeners are lazy, you have lied (deliberately or accidentally) that I believe individuals who lack literacy are not psychologically complex, and you have complained about people believing a definition of reading that you yourself have introduced that is not, as it happens, the definition that the two people you were arguing with believe anyway.

one wonders what’s been accomplished here.

This conversation is so fucking funny to me

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox

A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule. 

It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.

Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are. 

Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.

Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.

Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

“What, Hangman?”

“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”

He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.

“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”

The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”

You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.

“Truce.”

He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”

“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”

“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”

The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.

“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”

“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”

“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”

“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”

“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”

“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”

“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”

“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”

“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”

“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.

“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”

“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”

“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.

There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.

“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.

“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”

He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”

“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”

Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.

“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.

Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”

You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”

You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.

You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.

“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”

“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”

“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.

You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment. 

“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”

“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.

“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”

You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.

Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.

Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”

You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”

“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”

He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.

“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.

“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”

“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.

“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”

His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.

There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.

Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.

Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.

You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.

“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”

“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”

“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”

“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”

You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.

“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”

“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”

Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”

You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.

You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be. 

You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.

It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.

You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you. 

“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.

“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”

“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”

“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”

“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”

“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.

Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.

“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.

“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”

“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”

Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.

“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”

You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.

You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.

“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.

His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.

Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out. 

Jake has never been gentle before. 

“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.

“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to. 

Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.

Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win. 

This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.

“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.

“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”

“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”

“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.

Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.

He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged. 

“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”

Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel. 

You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own. 

“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”

“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”

“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”

“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”

“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”

“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”

You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven. 

Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.

“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”

He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.

He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.

“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.

You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.

“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”

Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”

Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.

“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”

“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”

“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”

“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale,  and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”

You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.

You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed. 

You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it. 

Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.

You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.

You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.

“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.

“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”

“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”

“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.

Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.

“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”

“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”

“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”

“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.

You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.

Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.

“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.

“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”

“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”

“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”

“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”

“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”

“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”

“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”

“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”

You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”

“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”

“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.

“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”

“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”

“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”

“He’s not in love with me-!”

“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.

You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”

“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”

“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation. 

You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[pricesprincess]

t. fushiguro x fem reader x s. kong | 8.3k wc

smut mdni | repost | monsterfucking | knotting

running away is never a good idea, but in this case, it was.

you needed a moment to get away from everything before it drove you crazy. 

your job was the one doing most of it with the hours you had to work keeping you busy and more than tired, so tired you didn't realize your heat was upcoming very soon. 

it would be one of the worst ones yet since haven’t had it in such a long time and without the suppressant that would get you through it, you were royally fucked, being in heat and being single was hell on earth and you hated it so you kept it at bay but at least your feelings and heart were left intact. 

your eyes twitched as you hunched over the desk staring at the computer screen scrolling through the cabins for rent, the place where you could walk around naked and enjoy the peace and quiet by yourself. 

people milled about the work area getting ready for their weekend off but you had put in the request a month ago to take a whole week and a half off. your heats could be tracked thank goodness so you knew the time frame and since you haven’t had one in a while you knew this could last a bit and be intense. 

after enough mindless scrolling you finally found the perfect place, nestled deep in the lush mountainside next to a running river, the description said the sun set and rose through the stained bay window that cast an array of colors over the hardwood floor and had a clawfoot tub with a beautiful view. 

it was a one-bedroom that faced the mountainside with a balcony to enjoy the view and nature next to a dead forest this time of the year, with no neighbors to hear you get off like a nymphomanic. 

the thin walls of your studio apartment didn’t muffle a thing. 

“what are you doing?” your friend and coworker ami asked when she came over to your station leaning against the counter, thrumming her fingers on the marble top. 

you let your eyes drift over to her then back to the computer looking at the pictures, the click sound was something that you were able to drown out since it was something you listened to daily. “getting away.” you replied flatly. 

ami understood all too well as an omega and had enough heats to know what it was like, especially when you have suppressed it for a while, the feeling of when it came on was like nothing else and you needed to be alone for it. 

she leaned forward taking the mouse from your hand to click on another tab with different cabins. “i rented this one for two weeks, it was so nice but the people are close and like to visit.” you looked at it and shook your head. 

your lips drew into a pout as you took the mouse back from her and went back to the one you wanted and filled out the form quickly hoping you could get the slot.

“i don't want to be near anyone, there are woods close by for me to enjoy and the closest neighbor is two miles or more away, which is perfect.” you hummed clicking submit making sure that it went through before exiting the homepage. 

ami stood straight and patted the top of your hand. “you should find someone to help you through the heat, it’s going to be awful since you’ve been suppressing it for so long.” she sing-songed further irritating you. 

you wanted to snap at her, instead, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. “not interested, i don’t need anyone to help me through this plus being mated with someone sounds like hell.” 

it was a scenario that you’ve seen too many times. 

before ami could say anything her phone began to ring on her desk pulling her away from yours to hurry up and answer it. your eyes shifted to the clock again, ten minutes and counting down until you were free for two weeks. 

even though it’s been less than five minutes you opened up your email in hopes of seeing whether or not you got the cabin, every three seconds you hit the refresh button hoping it would be there but nothing but more spam. 

with a sigh, you logged out and started cleaning up your desk stuffing everything in your bag not caring before shutting the computer off. “i’ll see you later!” you called out to your co-workers and made a beeline for the door shouldering it open to hurry up and make it to the parking lot before it rained. 

before work in the mornings, you’d watch the weather channel to keep up with it because more times than not it was always changing. as soon as you got inside the clouds opened dumping rain in heavy sheets coating your car. 

by the time you made it home, the sun had begun dipping below the horizon turning the sky into a burnt orange with streaks of red and yellows that would make a beautiful picture but you had no time for that, with your bag in hand you scurried to your front door thankful for the awning that kept you dry. 

once inside you dropped everything with a soft thud and kicked your shoes off hoping soon that you’d get an email about the cabin, however, seeing that it was almost six p.m. and it was a friday no one would be there to answer the emails but you were excited and ready for a change of scenery. 

standing in front of your wall calendar dressed in nothing but panties while eating ice cream from the small carton you were able to figure out the last heat you experienced was seven months ago and this one was going to be rough, all the built-up hormones were suppressed waiting to be spilled. 

they started to ooze from the cracks and chips leaving you on edge which only irritated you further because you didn’t even want to feel how hot you burned up or how long it’s been since you’ve been laid, almost two years. 

but it wasn’t like you were counting or anything. 

with a heavy sigh, you rested your head on the wall and shuffled toward the living room looking down at the faded slippers you wore, the ones that have seen all of your teenage years, now you were pushing almost thirty and still single. 

plopping down on the equally ratty couch that you picked up free from the internet once you were sure it wasn’t bug-infested, the owners at the time just wanted to get rid of it, trash turned into treasure. 

your eyes tried to stay glued on the tv but it was a fight you could no longer win and ended up falling asleep with your head leaning back and mouth open. 

hours later you jerked awake from the slam of the door that rattled the walls. 

“fuck.” you groaned when you saw the ice cream you had in your hand had melted and dripped down on the floor making a creamy mess, the vanilla looked like cum almost, and perhaps that was just because you wanted a load shot deep inside you, it made your blood run hot but you pushed that back to stand up and gathered your bearings before cleaning the mess up. 

your phone vibrated on the corner of the coffee table alerting you to an email, forgetting the rag and melted ice cream in front of you, you snatched it up and unlocked the screen to read your email for the cabin, the one you wanted was now yours for the entire week, all you had to do was get through was two days. 

the smile that made your cheeks ache couldn’t be wiped from your face no matter what, the place you picked was perfect, and the woods were somewhere you could gather food and you could bathe in the river, connecting with nature would help a lot to get through this heat. 

after the mess was cleaned up there was a pep in your step as you started to pack your bags before heading out to your car stepping in a puddle which usually upsets you, but even that couldn’t bring your day down. 

going back inside you changed your socks and shoes then you made it to your car and pulled out of the parking lot. 

even though it was just two weeks you couldn’t wait to get out of the apartment building you lived in, the too-thin walls sure didn’t help when your neighbor's headboard banged in a creaky rhythm or the couple upstairs who yelled daily. 

you twitched in excitement as you pulled up to the sex shop, you needed a few toys to help get off and you had saved up enough money for a sex doll, well it was only just the abs and the removable cock to fit whatever fit your desire. 

walking inside you looked around and then made a beeline for the other side, the back wall was lined with an array of styles, sizes, and colors. 

you scanned the plastic boxes wondering what attachment to change out for something new when your eyes landed on a werewolf cock, complete with the tapered end and a knot that was already inflated. you grabbed it along with a few more toys then paid for it and left the store counting down until you left. 

with everything put in your trunk, you headed to the store next and bought all your favorite things to eat and drink, along with a few books from the bookstore down the street and some cheap wine to help sweeten the deal. 

it was two weeks of self-care that you’ve been neglecting over the last few months and it was building until it was close to exploding and before you let that happen the cabin was your getaway from your problems that have piling up and you’ve been pushing aside until now. 

excitement filled your veins as you drove back to your apartment. 

once inside with all the bags you packed everything and looked at the clock counting down the milliseconds when you could leave and since you still had a day and a half you caught up on some work, sending emails and making phone calls to regular customers who even caught on to your rare good mood. 

“am i that grumpy?” you muttered when you hung up the phone and leaned back in your home office chair, the damn thing was creaky and soon you’d need a new one but with your current pay that would have to wait. 

another glance at the clock and it was nearing dinner time. 

64.media.tumblr.com

monday morning before the sun had a chance to come to the horizon you were already in your car, fingers twitching as you pulled out of the parking lot ready to leave behind your life for two weeks, and thankfully the ride wasn’t long. 

with your windows down the cool autumn breeze filled the car as you passed by knotty trees with bare branches with thick wet leaves of different colors at the base of the trunk, when daybreak happened it filled the sky with a beautiful orange mixed in with purples and reds that was picture worthy. 

which is usually what you would do, but the only thing on your mind was getting to the cabin and settled in before your heat hit which was supposed to be on tuesday and last until saturday or even longer, but you had worked enough overtime to cover a few more days if needed be. 

you had everything set in stone, this trip was important to you for many reasons. a way to get back into tune with yourself, plus this way no one would bother you or call the landlord when you bounced yourself stupid on a fake cock to quell the burning need for an orgasm. 

the radio played the local station at a low volume as the gps voiced the way to get to where you wanted to be the most, only five miles away from your destination your foot pressed on the gas pedal before turning right. 

your tires crunched under gravel as you drove slowly now to take in the scenery, it was breathtaking and it looked like something someone painted where it hung up for millions to see and oh and awe at it, pulling over you stopped and got out of your car to take a few pictures of the place. 

it didn’t take very long for you to pull up in the driveway, your jaw going slack at the beauty of the log cabin, the pictures did not do it justice, the backdrop for it was lush mountains with a few waterfalls splitting them apart that ended in a stream following the path toward the huge lake no doubt for fishing. 

climbing out of your car you left the bags in the trunk and walked around the place taking note of the firepit and the grill with a few chairs that looked comfortable, your feet crunched over the rocks as you peered into the thick of the woods on the edge of the property when the door opened scaring you. 

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. you ok?” a tired voice asked before revealing themselves, a woman who appeared to be in her seventies came out with a kettle hanging from her thin fingers as she eyed you. 

despite your heart beating louder than a bag of cans rattling around you nodded. “yes, i didn’t think anyone was going to be here…there’s not another vehicle around.” you answered confused about who she was and why she was here, when you got here you thought the owner would be gone.

you sent the payment directly from your bank account so you didn’t have to worry about this, you didn’t want to deal with anyone.  

the woman waved you in and shut the door once you were inside taking in the beautiful interior, almost everything was soaked in a deep red and muted browns, tan leather couches were in front of a large tv and the kitchen was small but it held everything you needed and the hallway only had two doors. 

it was an open floor plan with a large kitchen with modern time appliances. 

you followed her further to the kitchen where she sat the kettle back on the stovetop. “my name is may, i’m the owner. i like to greet people and tell them a few rules, or i suppose it’s to keep you safe.” she explained and poured a cup. 

“it’s nice to meet you. rules?” you asked wondering why it couldn’t be put in the email. 

“i’m glad you made it soundly and yes, rules. you don’t want to go out into the woods after ten p.m. the werewolves come over the mountains and a lot of them aren’t very friendly, they’d eat you up.” 

her voice rattled at the end as may turned to you with a chipped teacup. “thank you for the information, i didn’t plan on going in there unless it was daylight anyway, thank you for accepting my application. it’s very pretty.” 

may smiled taking the compliment. “you’re welcome, this property has been in my family for generations but i can’t live out here, my son will be picking me up,” as if on cue there was a car horn outside, “take care, honey, see you.” 

you followed her to the front door and hurried to check the kitchen windows making sure she got inside and watched as the truck kicked up dust leaving you alone finally for the first time in a very long time. 

after checking for cameras because you could never be sure you went outside in the cool october air inhaling the scent of nature, pine trees, and the dirt which never smelled so good. with your bags in your hands, you brought them inside before settling on the couch with the tea. 

the tv didn’t have much to offer so you shut it off and headed outside to the balcony that overlooked the lake with the sun glinting off the surface it was serene, this was what you needed. it was beautiful and for a moment you thought about moving out there, then thoughts of when you had to leave made you frown but that was two weeks away. 

turning back you headed inside and decided to check out the rooms, the bedroom was first. the walls were painted in that same deep red, with a four-poster bed and a mattress that looked like pure heaven, and a heavy oak dresser with a mirror shaped into a cloud on the other side. 

unpacking everything you double-checked to make sure there were no cameras before moving to the bathroom, it was small but still doable. the shower was a combination, and the sink was big enough to hold your stuff. 

ten minutes later you lay on the couch stretching your legs and looking up at the ceiling letting your eyes close shut eventually falling asleep until evening, when the crickets woke you up and for a moment you forgot where you were, in a panic you looked around and sighed plopping back down. 

after another five minutes, you finally got up to look out the windows only to be met with pitch dark until the outside lights were switched on flooding the front and back lighting the area up. you looked at the clock, it was only seven. 

may said don’t go in the woods after ten, there were still three hours to look. 

grabbing a jacket you pulled it on, shoving your arms through the sleeves before making your way outside, the crickets chirped louder creating a beautiful symphony of nature as the moon shone down casting a soft glow over the woods barely lighting up the mouth which made you nervous. 

broken-off branches from the storm that came through the other night snagged on your pant legs and crumbled beneath your feet as you wrapped your arms around yourself coming closer, a sudden painful howl that ripped through the night air that caused you to stop midstep and listen to it. 

it was a mournful cry tinged with a pain you never felt but you could tell it was a cry for something, may’s words of werewolves living close by rattled your brain, enough to make you turn around and head back inside making sure all the windows and doors were locked before turning the outside lights off. 

after sleeping you opted to make a quick dinner knowing that you’d be awake for a while, once everything was cleaned up you settled in the hot water in the tub watching the steam rise from the milky water, your body wash swirled in with it creating bubbles that lapped at your tingly flesh from the heat. 

seeping in the silence you felt your muscles relax, letting go of the tension you’ve been holding onto for longer than you should. stretching your legs out you used the new and very expensive body scrub that promised it would leave your skin feeling soft and supple, something you needed. 

a lot of your time was going to be spent in bed masturbating until your arm or fingers fell off from overuse and your legs would be spent humping the toy like a brainless horn dog until it was somewhat out of your system. 

you watched the water drain before rinsing yourself off and getting out of the tub with a towel wrapped around you, you stuffed your feet back into your trusty slippers and trudged through the house to grab some wine and settle back on the couch turning the tv on to let it play as background music. 

drowsiness set in again and you curled up in the corner pulling the heavy quilt over you and sat your wine glass down before eventually falling asleep again with the tv on casting a glow over the living room until morning. 

sunlight spilled in from the french doors and the stained glass of the bay window bathing the place in an array of beautiful colors that you stared at when you woke up still lounging on the couch enjoying the sounds of nature. 

pulling yourself off the couch you folded the quilt up putting it where you found it before shuffling into the kitchen to make breakfast quickly and enjoy the bowl of fruit out on the backdoor balcony watching the sun glitter off the water. 

you wondered if it was safe enough to swim in. 

with the bowl cleaned and put away, you stripped naked right in the kitchen and walked out to the balcony letting the sun warm your bare skin feeling the cool breeze harden your nipples, tightening them into hard pebbles. 

after a few moments, you headed back inside and got dressed before pulling a book off the bookshelf you brought from home and making something to drink before heading back outside on the balcony sitting down when you heard them. two male voices talking in hushed whispers not far away. 

your ears twitched as you stood up leaning against the railing watching them as they stayed at the mouth of the forest. they were both tall, one with black shaggy hair and broad shoulders, the other had dark short, and fluffy hair with the same stature as the other but he wasn’t as big as the other man. 

he was the same height although. you watched them with curiosity sniffing the air picking up their scent. werewolves. slowly you stepped back not wanting to catch their attention and retreated inside with a sigh. 

may wasn’t lying. 

you weren’t sure what they were doing until there was a knock several minutes later as you sat on the couch. putting your book down on the side table you headed over to the door looking out the small curtain and seeing the werewolves standing there, looking dead at you. 

“we know you’re in there.” one spoke, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. 

keeping the chain on you opened the door so they couldn’t step inside. toji’s eyes widened for a brief second seeing you standing there looking confused as your eyes shifted between them both, intrigued by their presence.  

he wasn’t expecting any omegas to come this far, especially one like you then his nose picked up your scent. shiu glanced at him and then at you. “we didn’t think may still rented the cabin, sorry for disturbing you,” shiu said. 

“do you need anything?” you asked curiously wondering why they would be here for may anyway, but it was no mistake what they were, the smell undeniable, potent and heavy and musky fur. 

they shared a glance then looked back at you. “no, thank you. have a good day.” shiu told you with a warm smile walking away first as toji lingered for a moment looking at you before following after his friend down the driveway. 

you shut the door and watched them from the window with the curtain lifted to see toji looking back at you with a smile that felt dangerous, his teeth sharp when he pulled his teeth back to show off, his scar splitting in half.

ignoring the interaction you looked at the clock, it was only late afternoon, and after making sure they weren’t in sight, you stepped out onto the balcony with a glass of wine and your book settling in the padded chaise lounge. 

everything felt almost like a dream as you read with one leg propped up letting the sun wash over like bath water when you jostled, rippling it. 

four chapters in and you could hear their voices again, murmuring back and forth about something catching your attention. after marking your page you set the book down and stood up to walk over to the railing looking down. 

“you’re ruining my reading time.” you called down resting your arms to lean over more meeting both their gazes, their lips tugged back in a smirk. 

toji chuckled and slid his hands into his pockets, his thumbs sticking out. “well, we wanted to come and ask if we could have dinner with you.” 

your jaw dropped looking at him with a stunned expression blinking fast as you shut your mouth so hard your teeth rattled. “uh, i don’t think so. i don’t even know you, also i’ve heard of the big bad wolf but just add another one.” 

“my name is toji,” he pressed his hand to his chest then jerked his thumb to his friend, “this is shiu.” you looked at him like that was supposed to magically make you all friends. 

they shared a glance and then turned their attention to you. “we could huff and puff and blow your house down or you could tell us your name.” toji teased with a chuckle that made your blood simmer, his gaze was predatory making you nervous. 

shiu shook his head. “we’re not going to do anything like that, don’t worry.” 

“i sure hope not, it’s not like you could anyway.” you murmured and gave them your name while thrumming your fingers against the railing debating on letting them inside, there was no telling what could happen if you got close. 

but it would be rude not to feed them. 

they watched you walk inside and then out the front door, around the corner to wave them in. “dinner then it’s my bedtime.” you called out and headed back inside heading to the kitchen to pull out a meal you brought from home. 

it was easy to heat up and you didn’t need to cook while here, you could focus on yourself when the time came. toji and shiu followed like it was the millionth time they’d been inside, immediately taking a seat at the table. 

“make yourself at home.” you murmured and put the food in the oven before joining them at the table sitting across from them. 

shiu was curious as to what brought you here and so was toji who asked first unable to help himself. “what’s a pretty little thing doing all the way out here?” he asked leaning back as he held your gaze with a waiting smile. 

you supposed that him calling you pretty would flatter you somehow. “i’m on vacation.” it was the truth, but they didn’t need to know the other reason. 

“or are you running away from something? someone?” shiu prompted. 

this time heat flooded your face as the timer dinged saving your ass. you got up to quickly dish out the plates before taking your seat again to eat. 

for a good while there was a silence that stretched between the three of you as the meal came to an end you collected the dishes and washed them. “thanks for the food,” shiu murmured as he attempted to help you. 

you let him help for a moment enjoying the quiet moment and charged air, something was lingering like a string daring you to play with it and see what happens when you tug on it, pulling open a whole new world for you three. 

once they were gone you finished cleaning up and opted for a warm bath before curling up in bed. the water felt good as you planned your day for tomorrow deciding to go down to the edge of the water with some wine. 

with your chair and a book you could easily spend all day down there, the thought of seeing toji and shiu again made your tummy prickle with heat and something else that ached between your legs like a soft pulse of want. 

shaking the thought from your head you washed up and got out to get dried off and dressed, sleep eluded you for the moment so you ended up on the couch again snuggled up under the quilt as you settled on a horror movie. 

it was nearing halloween and you always enjoyed the thrill of a good flick. 

you sunk into the couch as the movie played out putting you on edge which is what you wanted at first, regret trickled in knowing it was too late to turn it off now and go to bed, there was no way you could go to sleep now. 

changing the channel you settled on some reruns of a reality tv show until your eyes fluttered shut and you fell asleep on the couch again until the morning sun woke you up. 

sitting up you looked around and rubbed your eyes before getting up to get ready for the day, breakfast, shower, and a change of clothes later you ended up at the edge of the lake with your chair, blanket, book, and a glass of wine. 

it was a perfect way to relax which lasted for a few hours until shiu and toji emerged again from the mouth of the trees seeing you lounging there. 

you saw them and raised an eyebrow. “i’m not offering you dinner again.” 

toji chuckled and came closer, stopping a few feet away. “what if we offered you dinner?” he asked with a smile that made your blood thicken and bubble. 

going to their place when you didn’t know the woods wasn’t a good idea, you liked having the upper hand. “i appreciate the offer, but i don’t think i should go into your den.” you hummed and marked your spot with your bookmark. 

last night wasn’t too bad and they weren’t awful company you thought. 

“i did bring a lot of food so if you don’t mind helping me.” you murmured and stood up letting shiu grab your chair as they followed you back to the cabin. 

twenty minutes later the three of you were settled at the table again laughing about exchanged stories, weaving together past and present. toji was a heavy flirt while shiu was subtle about his, both of them making your head feel hazy and warm. 

their smells have been affecting you from your heightened sense of smell, your pulse was racing catching their attention. liquid desire started to simmer in your veins like honey, viscous and sweet producing a potent smell for them. 

the beginning of their rut kickstarted your heat. 

toji’s eyes darkened as he inhaled the scent, rich and heady. 

“you both need to leave right now.” you told them pointing to the door, the sudden change had you snippy. shiu had to push his friend out letting you slam the door behind them quickly in such a rush forgetting to lock it. 

your heat started sending a signal to your brain as slick pooled in your panties that felt drenched as you moved to the bedroom pulling open the box you stuffed with the sex toys feeling a soft throbbing in your womb. 

sleeping with two strangers isn’t what you had planned, especially werewolves when you haven’t mated before and you know what would happen if you let them stay even a second later you’d belong to them.

everything happened so fast as you grasped the first toy, a vibrator. ripping the package open you hurried to the bathroom and cleaned it quickly before crossing the hall into the bedroom to shuck your shorts and panties. 

sitting on the bed you leaned back and spread your legs feeling a deep ache as your pussy fluttered in response to the toy that rubbed against your clit, the ache grew like a vine, your body jolting when you turned it on, the feeling pulling a deep moan from you as you humped the vibrator with little care. 

every wave of pleasure brought erotic images of toji and shiu, taking them both at the same time and then letting one watch while the other jerked off before taking their turn. you wanted them to take turns with you like a toy. 

with a cry, you curled your toes feeling an intense heat bloom between your legs melting into your veins and pooling in your cheeks as you tilted your head back squeezing your eyes shut thinking of all the possibilities with them. 

the wet sound of you pleasuring yourself was loud and lewd as your slick pooled between your asscheeks no doubt dripping to the floor, every time you entered a heat especially one like this your arousal always left a huge mess, and oh how bad you wanted toji and shiu to clean you with their tongues. 

your brain was becoming mush rather quickly with each stroke of your wrist, the vibrator wasn’t doing its job which only frustrated you more than anything. 

with a soft growl, you pulled the toy out sighing, and let it drop to the floor before moving to grab the boyfriend replacer feeling your fingers slide against the material as you tossed it on the bed to straddle the fake thighs while you held the craved abs down flexing your fingers into the soft silicone. 

your head was hazy, filled with lust and the need to cum however you could. 

rubbing against the bulbous head you caught it on the soft opening of your wet cunt pushing it in easily with a soft mewl as you sat down on it with a wet squelch, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 

for a moment you wondered if they had strayed far but little did you know that they were at your door, huffing and puffing smelling your slick and heat. shiu fought against everything inside him to kick the door down, but he knew that you hadn’t been claimed and that made his blood run hot with desire. 

toji decided to knock earning a look from shiu who raised his eyebrow. 

you stopped despite your brain telling you not to when you heard the interruption. it happened again and you knew who it was. “come in!” 

maybe that was a mistake but you had hoped that they could alleviate you of this, your brain could only come up with a weak whimper when you heard the door open followed by heavy footsteps and sniffing then they were in the room, the scent of testosterone wafted around them strongly. 

toji was the first one to touch you, his open palm felt hot as he caressed your back then your ass, gripping and groping the flesh. “what was that about us leaving?” he teased with a grin while shiu stepped next to you taking hold of your chin to turn your head to face toji who leaned in with a dark grin. 

you moaned as you ground against the toy staring at toji with a fucked out- look, your eyes glassy with bliss. leaning in you kissed him, your tongue parting the seam of his lips licking into his mouth tasting him whole. 

here you were making out with a stranger. well, the more you think about it you did know a little bit about them, but enough to fuck and take their knots? 

he growled into the kiss and kneeled on the bed to wrap his arm around your waist halting your movements so shiu could reach under you to remove the toy slowly hearing you gasp and cry out from the loss of it. “shh, we got you.” 

your head was hazy from their combined touches and kisses, all rational thought leaked from your ears as you allowed them to lay you on your back, shiu followed you down lying between your legs and inhaling your scent. 

“wait! i haven’t shaved!” you protested with a soft squeal and kept your thighs squeezed shut, albeit it’s been a long time since you’ve been with someone you always remembered them liking you being soft and shaved. 

shiu looked up at you from his spot cocking an eyebrow while sharing a glance with toji. “and do you think that’s going to bother us?” he husked drawing his thumb around your clit watching it throb and swell more in size. 

he leaned in pressing kisses against your hairy slick pussy, his thumbs glided against your lips as he spread you open to swirl his tongue around your swollen clit eliciting a moan from you while toji watched from the side. 

“toji..” you glanced at him reaching your hands up to grab him and pull him down, your fingers running through his hair tugging on it as you brought him closer, clinging to him for dear life as shiu slowly thrusted two fingers in you. 

you gasped into toji’s mouth rocking your hips against shiu’s mouth as you reached down to slide your hand into his pants, brushing your hand against his cock that was already lubed with a thick copious amount of pre-cum. 

toji was thick, the knot was huge even when it wasn’t inflated and you couldn’t wait to feel it. you glided your fingers up to the tapered end, rubbing your thumb over the slit before tugging his pants and boxers down revealing his throbbing cock, the girth was incredible and it was beautiful. 

a deep purple with a few veins on the sides and one prominent one that pulsed and led down to a heavy and tight sack that you cupped gently. 

the room was filled with pants and soft growls as you pulled away from toji to focus on shiu now, your hands buried in his hair as you rode his face letting toji suckle on your nipples only adding to the pleasure simmering in your veins. 

you felt warm and tingly all over as shiu stroked his tongue up and down between the lips of your cunt as his fingers brushed against your sensitive spot making you howl and arch your back off the bed while toji kept his mouth busy on your breasts bringing forth a wave of intense pleasure. 

your first orgasm was almost violent, stealing the air from your lungs. 

after denying yourself heat after heat it built up and you were soaking the bed and shiu’s face who lapped up the mess with a satisfied growl sliding his free hand under your ass to hold you close as he devoured you whole moaning. 

it was wet and so loud causing you to cover your face as you squealed and pushed him away. “give me a second!” you cried in between ragged pants. 

toji chuckled and palmed your tit as he jerked himself over your chest. “such a good girl for us. we want to make you our little omega.” he whispered darkly watching you come down from your high with a smug grin. 

agreeing to that idea wasn’t smart but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“please!” you begged tilting your head back for them while gripping the bedsheets in excitement at the prospect of it all, you didn’t think about the future, just now and how good they were going to make you feel. 

so much was going on and you couldn’t keep it all together as you weathered the storm of bliss they put you in the middle of, thick fingers danced their way across your skin pulling and groping to bring forth more of your sweet sighs. 

shiu moved to kneel between your legs spreading them wider to reveal your glistening cunt causing his cock to twitch. he was the first one to get naked, revealing a hairy body with a full bush of soft pubic hair. “see?” he murmured and jerked himself off with no shame as you watched with a cute little pout. 

toji was next, both men were full of hair, curly and thick. instantly you sat up and buried your face in shiu’s chest then toji’s brushing your cheeks against them. “i don’t care who fucks me first just please do something before i die.” 

your voice was high-pitched and whiny but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care much when all you wanted was to feel their knots and cum a few more times. toji chuckled and slid his arm under your knees to push them back further. 

he pinned you down to let shiu rut his dick against the lips of your pussy, his tip gliding against your clit making you sigh and growl as you gripped toji’s hand feeling tears sting your eyes before coming down in fat salty drops. 

“oh, poor baby. she’s crying.” toji chuckled watching your eyes widen and jaw go slack when shiu pushed the tapered head inside the first ring of muscle as his hands moved to the back of your thighs gripping the flesh. 

you could see him gritting his teeth, grinding the pearly nubs together feeling the way your cunt swallowed him, wet and oh so fucking warm. the velveteen ridges of his cock felt incredible throbbing deep inside the drenched clutch of your pussy that looked so pretty wrapped around him. 

his head hung low to watch himself slide in and out slowly gathering your cream until it formed a ring that dripped down shiu’s knot that grew with each frantic thrust of his hips, he fucked you wildly as toji held you in place for him. 

the bed creaked as shiu dropped more of his weight down pressing into you more. “fuck!” you cried out when he slipped his knot inside, each pulse of your cunt sent him into a tizzy as he fucked you slow and with short and deep thrusts that left you gasping and clinging to him for dear life while sobbing. 

shiu knew how to have you gripping his bicep looking at him with wet eyes before his cock was spurting thick ropes of cum that matted between your pubic hair making a white mess in both of your hair. 

pulling back a little they helped you straighten your legs before wrapping them around shiu kissing him as you and he came down from your highs enjoying the afterglow of such an intimate moment before you looked at toji. 

“was wondering when it was going to be my turn sweetheart.” he murmured and twisted his body to grab your bullet vibrator with a wicked grin as he pet your hair kissing your forehead as shiu held you close to him, his knot now deflated enough to pull out making you whine with the loss of him. 

toji took his spot and turned the toy on. “sure you can even handle me?” he teased looking down at your gaping cunt that was covered in shiu’s essence. 

you narrowed your eyes at him and nodded pushing out another thick glob and sat up to grab his hips pulling him forward with a burst of strength before plopping on your back again. “stop teasing me…i need you so bad, toj!” 

that’s all it took for him to press the end of the vibrator against your clit making you gasp and jerk as he rubbed the tapered tip of his cock against the cum collection wanting to add his own. it was easy for him to glide in you. 

his hand found yours, linking your fingers with his as he leaned down to kiss you forgetting shiu who was kneeling next to you both, his eyes trained on you intently. it should be shameful to let this be happening but you didn’t care. 

not when it felt this good. 

you grasped his shoulders feeling hot white pleasure sizzle before blowing up like fireworks with each stroke, with the way he was filling you your head was so hazy, all you could do was babble about how good he felt inside you as you clawed at his shoulders desperately trying to stay tethered to the bed. 

there was now an even bigger and wetter mess between your legs, a thick frothy mixture of cum webbed between toji’s hairy thighs and the back of your legs that were warm and sticky from sweat as you rocked against him. 

his teeth nipped your bottom lip as he kissed you deeply, inhaling you like you were the air he needed to breathe, one big hand squished your cheeks together as he teased you with the vibrator making you cry out for him. 

toji wanted to feel you coming around him, he needed you again and again. 

before you could warm him your cunt spasmed around him drawing the tip of his cock deeper, nestling it right against your cervix. your eyes locked and you swore that your hearts beat in tandem as he thrust in and then came, filling you with a thick and hot load that seeped from the knot that plugged his cum. 

you clung to him panting and sobbing from the sheer ecstasy that washed over you as your vision cleared to see shiu smirking. “you two forgot about me, how are you feeling doll?” he asked bending down to pat your forehead with a cool rag making you sigh and moan from it as you kissed him gently. 

“hard to forget you.” you murmured against his mouth with a drunken giggle as you slid your hand up to the back of his neck to keep him there for a moment as you peppered his face in kisses and laughs as toji held you. 

the three of you stayed like that for a while until you were able to move on your own to get in the shower where they washed you in tandem. toji took to the top half as shiu took the bottom making sure to rinse the cum splatter off. 

they washed you with great care kissing you. “how does this work?” you asked squeezed in between their firm and hairy pecs grasping at the curly roots with a grin. 

toji held your hips as he kissed the top of your head while shiu brushed the sides of your breasts with his fingers. “hope your place is big enough for the three of us,” toji murmured with a chuckle making you warm at the thought. 

no way that would happen. you’d need a bigger place. 

“i live in a studio apartment, it’s just one room with a small restroom. we’d be cramped.” you murmured and turned around to face toji holding his arms. 

he moved his hands to your waist pulling you closer to him. “on top of each other all the time.” his voice dropped down to a husky whisper as the warm water cascaded over you, with with wet lashes you met his heated gaze. 

“something like that.” you murmured feeling shiu grope your ass now. their ruts were kicking in again and there was no denying the connection anymore. 

64.media.tumblr.com

three days in and you were sure there wasn’t a single inch inside and outside of the cabin you didn’t get fucked on. 

it was hard to pick your favorite. 

when you rode toji outside on the lounge late in the evening with the sounds of the waterfall in the background along with the wildlife and that night he was in his full werewolf form, his fur was soft and a good tether as you fucked him. 

you felt so full with him in this form and connected in a way you never felt with anyone else. in between all the fucking you three talked a lot and spent time together cooking and sleeping in the same bed. 

he nosed at your neck holding you close with thick arms, his claws close to digging in when you clenched your cunt tightly around him. “you feel so good, want you to cum in me please please toji i need it.” you begged softly crying. 

toji licked your tears as he pushed you all the way down on his knot that swelled once it was nestled deep inside, snug and tight keeping you plugged with his cum that he fucked deeper as he ground against you quickly. 

you clung to him and let him knot you again unable to count the many times he has claimed you, in his human form and this one. when he was like this, toji was hulking and beyond huge, able to bend you this way and that way. 

so was shiu. 

that’s how he had you the next morning with your face buried in the couch cushions as he mounted you in his werewolf form panting loud and wet in your ear fucking into you like a rabid animal chasing his high ramming into you with short choppy thrusts that took away your breath with each rut. 

he loved to hear you squeal so while he pulled out he enjoyed using the nipple clamps you brought. shiu tugged on the metal chain feeling your cunt squeeze as you squirmed and gasped pushing back against him with a grunt. 

they both had to have their noses buried between your legs, even at dinner one of them was under the table lapping at your pussy while the other attempted to hand-feed you, their fingers grazing your tongue making it hard to focus on anything else. “you’ve been so good for us, you’re ours now.” 

one time they were both able to slip inside your cunt stretching and filling you to the brim. “you’re taking us so well, and big stretch coming. you got this.” shiu murmured in your ear as kissed you shushing your cries and pants. 

it was an addicting feeling to have them both fucking you, and after training your ass with the toys you brought shiu fucked you from behind as toji thrust in and out of your cunt lazily feeling himself rub against shiu. 

by day six your cunt was sticky no matter how many showers you took, it was gaping with cum, dripping from the parted seam of your cunt. shiu and toji took turns cleaning you with their tongues until you nested against them. 

at the end of the trip, they had brought their belongings stuffing them into your car along with your bag, and went home with you unable to break the connection that they created in the matter of a single night that led to this. 

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing this thing is my baby! i took my time reading and rereading it to make it extra good jkfrt ♡

[littlespoonevan]

Would love to hear more about the Miss Congeniality Au!

ahhh miss congeniality au, my beloved!!!! 💖💗💞💕🩷❤️ truly, truly, truly i feel like this au could be so much FUN if i could find the discipline and motivation to just sit down and write it lmao. but i will say i v much enjoyed fitting all the pieces together for this snippet so here's hoping it awakens something in me askdjhf

i hope you like it 🥰

~

Eddie never imagined becoming a special agent. Then again, he never imagined becoming a single dad either.

But FBI work actually keeps him chained to a desk a hell of a lot more than regular police work used to and the pay’s better.

He’s regretting that decision right about now.

“Eddie, it has to be you.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, quickening his step even as Chimney continues to keep pace with him.

“It absolutely doesn’t, Chim.”

“The whole office agrees-“

Eddie stops short, whirling around. “Just because the little simulation version of me you drew up on the computer had an eight-pack-“

“My computer does not lie, Diaz-“

“I don’t have time,” Eddie cuts in. “I can’t be away from Chris that long.”

“It’s one week. Less, if you do your job right.”

Eddie makes a face.

It’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. A charity firefighter competition that he really thinks sounds a hell of a lot like a beauty pageant. Sure, there’s obstacle courses and stuff to complete but he’s not sure what a speedo competition has to do with being a competent firefighter. The cause is noble, he guesses, but there has to be a better way to raise money than deciding who’s the most specialist firefighter in all of Los Angeles.

Especially when the host – Captain Bobby Nash – is the target of a bomb threat.

It wouldn’t even have landed on their desk if not for the fact that three people with ties to Bobby Nash and the LAFD had received bombs in the mail over the last two weeks.

Athena thinks their best chance to take down the mail bomber is to have someone on the inside, to infiltrate the competition and investigate the contestants while also being the FBI’s eyes and ears throughout the week.

Hen and Chim, of course, volunteered Eddie for the job.

“I don’t like undercover work.” It’s an oversimplified version of the truth – that Eddie hates having to perform for an extended period of time and that this competition sounds like his own personal version of hell. Also, as much as he knows he’s in good shape, he doesn’t actually want people ogling his body for a week straight.

Chim gives him an incredibly unsympathetic clap on the shoulder. “Just use those big, brown eyes of yours and wow the judges with your salsa skills and no one will be any the wiser.”

Eddie opens his mouth to argue back when another voice cuts through their conversation.

“She said yes!”

He and Chimney both look up to find Hen running towards them, a beaming grin on her face. “Athena said yes! Better start practicing your poses, Firefighter Diaz.”

Well, shit.

-

Captain Bobby Nash has got a made-for-TV smile that has Eddie understanding why he got the hosting gig over every other fire captain in LA.

“Special Agent Grant,” he says, shaking Athena’s hand with a warmth to his expression that Eddie doesn’t expect.

Athena clearly doesn’t expect it either because she clears her throat as she pulls her hand back. “Captain Nash. This is Agent Diaz.”

Nash redirects his attention to Eddie, extending his hand once again. “Great to meet you. And please, call me Bobby.”

“You too,” Eddie says, flashing a polite smile and following Athena’s lead to take a seat in front of Bobby’s desk.

“So I take it there’s been some progress in the case?” Bobby asks, settling into his chair.

Athena purses her lips, exchanging a look with Eddie. “Not as much as we’d like. Given that we still don’t have a trace on the letter the bomber sent and the LAFD’s reluctance to cancel the competition, we’ve decided to send one of our agents in undercover.”

Bobby’s eyes immediately flick to Eddie and Eddie feels the ridiculous urge to straighten his posture. “I’m guessing that’s where you come in, Agent Diaz?”

“Not that we want to undermine the integrity of the competition but it will be imperative that Eddie makes it to the final,” Athena says. “It’s the best chance we have of catching the bomber if we can’t determine a suspect before then.”

Bobby leans back in his chair, regarding them both with an unreadable expression. Finally, he cracks a smile. “Well, he certainly looks the part.”

“He gets that a lot,” Athena snorts and Eddie ducks his head to hide the heat in his cheeks. It’s bad enough when it’s Hen and Chim ribbing him; he didn’t actually think Athena ever overheard them.

“Which firehouse is he representing though?” Bobby asks. “All of the contestants have already been chosen.”

Without missing a beat, Athena hands over a file that Eddie knows contains the fake details of his new identity. “Apparently the 133’s entry came down with an awful bout of food poisoning.”

Bobby accepts the manila folder with a faint smirk. “Well, that’s a shame.”

-

“Diaz. Diaz, do you read me? Over.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as he steps onto the bus ready to ship the contestants to the opening luncheon. “Yes, Chim,” he mutters under his breath. “I can hear you; stop yelling.”

“Remember to smile, Eddie.” That’s Hen.

How Athena thought they were the two best suited to oversee this, he’ll never understand.

He scans the length of the bus, looking for an empty seat. The whole place is overrun with burly men in too tight t-shirts talking animatedly to each other. It takes him a second to realise one of the men in question is waving at him.

He’s got curly hair and a golden retriever-esque eagerness to his smile. “Edmundo?” he asks. “From the 133, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and rearranges his face into a smile as he makes his way to the empty seat. Though calling it an empty seat feels generous when the firefighter all but shoves himself against the window to make room.

“How’d you know who I was?” he asks, genuinely curious. They only finalised the details of Eddie’s position in the competition yesterday and they made sure to leave any of his information off the official competition website.

“Oh I did a little deep dive on the other contestants but you were the only one who didn’t have a picture so I figured it had to be you.” He shrugs with an affable charm before offering Eddie a hand. “I’m Evan Buckley, with the 118. Everyone calls me Buck though.”

“He’s cute,” Hen says in his ear.

“Like a puppy,” Chim adds.

Eddie ignores them and shakes his hand. “Uh, you can call me Eddie,” he greets. Changing his last name was necessary; he refuses to go by Edmundo for the next week. It’s only then that he clocks the station number Buck said. “You’re part of Nash’s team.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, beaming with pride. “Bobby’s the best captain ever. You know some of these guys have it out for me because they think he’s gonna play favourites even though he’s not a judge. He’s just the host. But whatever, it’s not a big deal.”

The dejected look that creeps onto Buck’s face suggests it very much is a big deal even if he won’t admit it. Eddie feels a pang of sympathy. The guy seems harmless, even with all the rippling muscles. Then again, he’s not surprised a competition this testosterone-fuelled has people acting territorial.

“They just want an excuse for when you beat them in the first round,” Eddie says, mostly to fill the silence but also to get this Buck guy to stop looking so downtrodden.

He definitely doesn’t expect the way Buck’s whole face lights up in awe.

“You think I’ve got a shot at making it to the finals?”

The earnest hopefulness in Buck’s voice catches Eddie off guard and Hen and Chimney in his ear don’t help.

“Aww Eddie’s making friends!”

“Forget friends! Eddie, he’s cute; keep flirting with him.”

Eddie bites down on the urge to tell them to fuck off and makes himself smile at Buck instead. “’Course you do. Some of these guys are lucky they even made it this far.”

Truthfully, Eddie hasn’t even taken the time to look at anyone else on the bus all that much yet but the words tumble out of his mouth without permission. And in the face of Buck’s delighted grin, he can’t find it in himself to take them back.

“Thanks, man,” Buck says bashfully. “Hey, you have anyone to share a room with at the hotel yet?”

“Please tell me there’s only gonna be one bed,” Hen squawks gleefully in his ear.

“Uh I don’t know. Are they assigned or-?”

“They figured since most of us know each other we could pair up however we want but- um…” Buck trails off, making it clear no one has offered to share with him and well, it seems like he knows a lot about the other contestants. That could be good for Eddie. To get information and close the case. Obviously.

“Yeah, man. We can share.”

“Awesome!” Buck declares, slumping more comfortably in his seat and bumping his shoulder –probably accidentally – against Eddie’s. The bus gets moving then and Eddie takes the opportunity to scope out some of the other contestants.

It’s unlikely their suspect is another firefighter but not impossible.

“So how come I’ve never seen you at a scene before?”

Eddie blinks, redirecting his attention to Buck who’s looking at him curiously.

“Oh uh, I just transferred in the last couple of months.”

“From where?” Buck’s expression doesn’t look suspicious and Eddie has to remind himself not every conversation with a stranger needs to be an interrogation.

“Um, El Paso,” he says, immediately cringing on the inside. This man does not need to know any of his real life personal details.

But Buck only smiles again. “Cool. I’ll have to look out for you on calls from now on.”

And it’s not said flirtatiously or anything like that but Buck looks bashful again and Chimney is cackling his ear about how, “Eddie’s got a fan,” and Eddie’s stomach does a strange, traitorous flip.

But this is fine.

Everything is fine.

It’s just-

It’s going to be a long week.

-

[casino-lights]

so. the thing about Illario and Lucanis.

I don't have the screenshots but somewhere in Lucanis' mind, you hear Illario's voice saying "If I was in charge, you wouldn't have to do this anymore." as far as I can tell, all the other lines in his memories are from the game, but this one is from The Wigmaker Job. the story that took place over a year (probably more) prior to the events of the game. it's referring to a scene where Lucanis comes back from their contract, injured, and Illario, worried about his cousin, says that Lucanis wouldn't have to do Caterina's bidding anymore if Illario was First Talon. so now we know Lucanis still thinks about that conversation, even though it happened so long ago.

two other things about The Wigmaker Job: 1) Illario is a lot different in it and in some ways he seems more competent than the Illario we get in veilguard; and 2) we see Zara Renata at the end, and she already has Lucanis in her sights. depending on how much time passed between that contract and Lucanis' kidnapping, she could've been setting this up for months to years.

in the concept art/storyboard frames that were recently released, Zara is hardcore giving siren in the first image and it almost looks like she's straight up controlling Illario via blood magic in the second (imo)

now imagine if Zara was looking into Lucanis, started with the people closest to him, found Illario, and said all the right things. imagine she said he should be First Talon, Caterina never loved him, Lucanis doesn't believe in him and is secretly just tolerating him, he can save Antiva from the Antaam (or whoever else), he can lead the Crows to their long-awaited unification and make them even stronger, he's the smartest prettiest most super special boy in the whole wide world, etc. (if you give this man an ounce of praise and he actually believes it, he will crumble, I know it.)

now imagine Zara, having successfully sunk her claws into Illario - Lucanis Dellamorte's cousin, the only person closer to the Demon of Vyrantium than the First Talon herself - manages to convince him to let her kill Lucanis. he doesn't have to do it himself so there's less guilt. there's no way Caterina would make him First Talon if Lucanis was alive. and then Illario would be in a position to protect his beloved Antiva because if there's one thing the Antivan Crows are, it's patriots. I think Zara played Illario like a fucking fiddle and the game was just really bad at showing us that. I think when her spirit says "he fooled us both," she means he fooled her by being less of a coward than she thought and straight up killing her.

and maybe this is the Illario apologist in me, but I also think he realized the whole thing was a doomed plan after he was defeated. I mean, he shows up to the final battle to help, at risk of his own life. maybe he's trying to atone, maybe not, but still - he is there, and he sounds more like the Illario we see in The Wigmaker Job than whatever we got through the rest of the game. with his quippy little "was that suitably self-important?" line, he's closer to himself than he was this whole time, and that makes me wonder if maybe he wasn't fully Illario. maybe that was grief and guilt and a shaky sense of self and Zara's manipulation and the feeling of losing his grip on the power he never quite had to begin with, all bundled up into a new, bitter, resentful man. I think he was used like a pawn in Zara's chess game, and that doesn't take away from his agency in this situation or lessen the blow of his betrayal, but it does make it easier for me to swallow the fact that the Obvious Traitor Illario I was immediately skeptical of in-game is not the Illario I immediately loved after one scene in Tevinter Nights where he shaves a single hair because it was uneven with the rest of his five o clock shadow.

I think ultimately, Illario realized Lucanis would forgive him anyway. I think it's because he realized he would forgive Lucanis too.

[danielsarmand]

ugh yes you get it it’s not ABOUT ships being endgame i feel like ppl have come to expect that nowadays and it’s really weird. whatever happened to scraping for crumbs of interaction and running 20 miles with whatever we got?? and even if a ship does become ‘canon’ it’ll usually never happen in the way you personally want anyway. they’re NARRATIVE FOILS babe it doesn’t get much better than this i am eating it UP

i swear the new season has been EXASPERATING from a fandom standpoint. i think in retrospect it was like this with season one and the whole mel thing, too, but enough time has passed that my brain conveniently forgot about that.

i don't want to make this about age, but when i was growing up in fandom we used to have maybe a 1% canonization rate when it came to queer ships, which forced me to develop an array of skills i don't see much of anymore. queercoding and queer characters were there still, regardless of how canon or not a ship was, and everyone agreed that canon love interests mattered very little when the dynamic of two characters was the core of said characters.

i genuinely could care less about mel and jayce when they uh. got together i guess??? and i say i guess because we barely know anything about their relationship and dynamic. which is the point! we know way more about him and viktor, so that's where my thoughts go.

people were making a fuss over jayce and mel fucking, meanwhile i was going insane over their sex scene being paralleled to viktor coughing blood, and about how afterwards we see mel waking up in bed alone because viktor wakes up in bed and jayce is beside him. now, people are making a fuss about viktor and sky and i'm over here thinking of what sky is: a symbol, a representation of viktor and jayce's dream, of viktor's humanity and of his remorse. because that isn't even grief—he barely knew sky, didn't even look at her once in season one, he cannot grieve someone he didn't care for; he grieves her POTENTIAL, what she could have been had he let her, he feels guilty for being the cause of her death and he clings to his humanity through her.

arcane is all about visuals. every single frame. none of it is left to chance. and this is unfortunate when its viewers seem adamant on not turning on their brains whilst they watch.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Unspoken Melody p.1

Hi guys, here's a new story about Oscar and YN, a famous pop star. Let me know what you think :) If you want to read more of my stories, here's my masterlist.

Two drivers, one unforgettable concert, and a chance encounter with a pop sensation that leaves Oscar questioning everything he thought about music—and maybe even himself.

Oscar leaned against the wall of the car, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Lando fiddle with his phone.

“I still don’t get why you dragged me here,” Oscar said, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you need to live a little,” Lando replied with a grin. “And trust me, you’ll thank me after tonight.”

Oscar rolled his eyes but didn’t push further. He wasn’t a fan of pop music, and this YN person, though apparently a big deal, wasn’t even on his radar. All Lando had told him was that she’d invited him to her concert as a thank-you for being in her latest music video. When Lando added a casual, “You’ll love her,” Oscar had scoffed.

The venue was already buzzing when they arrived. Lando, predictably, had VIP seats right in the center. Oscar couldn’t deny the setup was impressive—the lights, the crowd, the electric energy that pulsed through the arena. Still, he kept his expectations low, determined not to get swept up in the hype.

Then, the lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted into cheers. A spotlight illuminated the stage as the first chords of a song Oscar didn’t recognize echoed through the arena. And then he saw her.

She walked out with a confident grace, her voice captivating from the first note. Oscar felt a jolt run through him, like he’d just been plugged into the very power grid lighting up the stage. Her presence was magnetic, her smile dazzling under the glow of the stage lights. He couldn’t look away.

“See?” Lando nudged him with a knowing smirk. “Told you.”

Oscar ignored him, his focus entirely on YN. She moved effortlessly, her voice weaving through the air like it was meant to be there, commanding everyone’s attention. For the first time, Oscar understood what people meant when they said someone was a star.

By the time the concert ended, Oscar’s hands were sore from clapping. Lando shot him a smug glance as they stood to leave.

“You were into it,” Lando teased, elbowing him in the ribs.

“I wasn’t—” Oscar started, but the lie died on his lips. He had been into it. More than into it.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know we’re not done.” Lando pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. “We’re going backstage.”

“What?” Oscar’s stomach flipped. “Why?”

“To say hi, obviously. She invited me.” Lando rolled his eyes. “Don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not being weird,” Oscar muttered, though his pulse was racing. The thought of meeting her up close, of hearing her speak directly to him, felt like more pressure than being on the starting grid of a Grand Prix.

Lando led the way to the VIP area, breezing past security with a casual confidence that Oscar envied. Oscar, meanwhile, felt like his legs were made of lead as they walked through the backstage corridors.

The VIP lounge was smaller than he expected but no less glamorous. Laughter and conversation filled the room, but Oscar barely registered it. His gaze zeroed in on her instantly. YN stood near the bar, chatting animatedly with a group of people. She was even more stunning up close, her smile as radiant as it had been on stage.

“Lando!” she exclaimed when she saw them. Her eyes lit up, and she crossed the room to greet them.

“YN!” Lando pulled her into a friendly hug. “Amazing show, as always.”

“Thanks.” Her gaze shifted to Oscar, and for a moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “And you must be…?”

“Oh, right.” Lando clapped Oscar on the shoulder. “This is my mate, Oscar. He’s a driver too. Not in music videos, though.”

Oscar’s face burned. “Hi,” he managed, his voice embarrassingly soft.

“It’s nice to meet you, Oscar,” she said, her smile warm. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yeah, it was… incredible,” Oscar admitted, his usual cool demeanor completely abandoned.

“Glad to hear it.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him. “You look a little nervous. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Lando burst out laughing, and Oscar shot him a glare. “I’m not nervous,” Oscar said quickly, though his voice betrayed him. “Just… impressed.”

Her laughter was light and genuine. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

For the rest of the night, Oscar tried to play it cool, but every time YN spoke to him, his heart raced. As they left the lounge, he couldn’t shake the way she had smiled at him, how easy it had felt to talk to her despite his initial nerves.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lando asked as they walked down the corridor toward the exit. He had his usual smug grin plastered on his face.

Oscar gave him a half-hearted glare. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe a little,” Lando admitted with a chuckle. “But you’ve gotta admit, I was right. She’s amazing.”

Oscar sighed, his expression softening. “Yeah, she is.”

They stepped out into the cool night air, the muffled sounds of the crowd still buzzing behind them. Oscar shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at the ground as they walked toward Lando’s car. His thoughts were a whirlwind of her laughter, her voice, and the way she had looked at him like he wasn’t just some guy tagging along.

Lando unlocked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. As Oscar slid into the passenger side, Lando glanced over at him with a smirk.

“You’ve got that look,” Lando teased.

“What look?” Oscar frowned.

“The ‘I’m completely smitten’ look,” Lando said, leaning back in his seat with a laugh. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Oscar groaned, tipping his head back against the seat. “I’m not smitten.”

“Sure, mate. Whatever you say.” Lando started the engine, but before pulling out, he added casually, “Just so you know, she has a boyfriend.”

Oscar blinked, the words hitting him like a splash of cold water. He sat up straight, turning to look at Lando. “What?”

“Yeah, some actor guy. Been together for a while,” Lando said, his tone nonchalant as if he hadn’t just crushed Oscar’s very fragile, very unexpected hopes. “She doesn’t talk about him much, though. Likes to keep it private.”

Oscar stared out the window, a strange mix of relief and disappointment settling in his chest. Relief, because it meant YN’s warmth and attention toward him had been nothing more than her natural charm. Disappointment, because, well… maybe he had been a little smitten after all.

Lando glanced at him as they drove off, his grin softer now. “Don’t overthink it, mate. She’s just one of those people who makes everyone feel special.”

“Yeah,” Oscar murmured, forcing a small smile. “Guess so.”

But as they merged onto the highway, Oscar couldn’t help replaying the evening in his head. YN might have been unattainable, but she had left an impression he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

[fillinforlater]

The Archive of Smite

This page belongs to the writer named Smite. He wrote fics starting in September of 2021 up until April 2024. In these 2,5 years, over 8.000 people followed him to read some of the craziest k-pop girl group smut out there. Almost 150 stories of sex in all kinds of positions, for many reasons, all over the world (and in outerspace), with too many kinks to count.

"When I started, I kinda wanted to become the best. I wanted my favorite writers at the time - Levi, Peach, Sins, and many more - to know that I could write as good as they can. I wanted to go wilder and crazier."

Smite, though ambitious, was also stupid and naive. At roughly the same time he started writing, two other community legends began their careers. IZ and Kaede crushed everything in their sight, especially the former becoming an absolute legend.

"Writing was fun. At times, it was escapism from everyday worries. At other times, it was fulfillment of fantasies I could never reach. Mostly though, it was just horny. BFH that just became words. If you go through my Masterlist, you might see which idols had some random heights or were just... Always on my hot list."

Smite never really stopped writing, not for long stretches that is. It didn't really occur to him that there might be a sudden, drastic reason to stop. He considered doing so anyways. Something about writing porn about irl people without them knowing or wanting - needless to say, it is an odd hobby. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it amd the community it brought with it.

"I fucking love these guys. So many hilarious peoplefrom all over the world. One became like my best friend, a rock during my emotional struggles. Another was my boyfriend for a short time. Man, I screwed up with him kekw. There are too many to mention. I've had long talks with some, others just came by and listened to me mald or something. I love you all, some of you I consider true friends - part of my soul - and I feel connected, even if you are thousands of miles away."

2024 started stressful for Smite. The pressure of Uni started to collapse on him. Even the thought of big kpop concerts wasn't enough to cheer him up. Luckily though, there was this girl. Sweet, kind, caring and in the same position. Soon, he had found something that seemed impossible. She was in love with him and he in love with her. And when everything unraveled.

"I stopped writing. I burried my drafts. I finished only one story and released it way later. I'm sorry I didn't announce it properly, but I just felt that this smut writing career was over. I don't regret it - I gained something beautiful I want to keep for the rest of my life. She is at least as pretty as Minju, so I call that the biggest win imaginable lol."

So no more smuts from Smite?

"99% no"

No more fanfictions/girl group stories in general?

"Eh, 80% no. Still some unfinished angst that I would love y'all to read tho"

Will you ever reach those 150 fics?

"We will see. In this count there are fics with less than 1000 words. I might just sneeze and finish it kekw"

Any fic you regret not writing?

"Not really? Maybe a proper ending for Starship: Horizon? Or yet another Minju fic? Futa stuff? Gaeul angst x female reader? Or how about a fic with 69 different idols at once? Who but me would dare to write something so stupid?"

Do you think you reached your initial goal?

"Do I consider myself the GOAT? No. That title belongs to either Peach, Levi or IZ. But I know that of my now 8.700 followers some consider me their favorite writer. I'm flattered and thank you very much for reading amd enjoying my work."

Now for the most important question: does this post mean you are finally leaving the community behind for good? Is this your last hoorah?

"..."

"Never."

[breadlover64]

BINGQIU VS LIUSHEN/ANY OTHER SHIP WITH SQQ PART 1

BEWARE I HAVENT READ SVSSS IN A WHILE AND I MIGHT’VE MISSED SOME STUFF! Feel free to correct and give your opinions about this.

Theres gonna be two parts to this bc tumblr can’t take all my writing sooooo 😛

In the SVSSS fandom, I’ve noticed that compared to other mxtx’s novels, the mc gets shipped with half of the cast more often and is more widely accepted in the fandom compared to the tgcf and mdzs fandoms (if you ship Hualian or Wangxian with anyone, it will get you death threats, istg 😓). However, with Shen Qingqiu, while of course he gets shipped with his love interests, another really popular one is him with Liu Qingge and many other characters in the novel. I do think this also has to do with the fact that the fandom is more chill than the other two fandoms. Shen Qingqiu in general is just VERY shippable. But why? Why do some people like liushen more than bingqiu? Obviously, I know this is simply a preference, but why do people prefer it more than the canon couple? Well, I have some speculations. First, while I love Bingqiu, I can admit that their relationship is not for everyone; even for me, they’re my least favorite main couple of the three (it's just my opinion, DONT ATTACK ME🙏) because their dynamic can be seen as somewhat toxic. Luo Binghe is very obsessive and kind of yandare like in the novel, and yes, he does have character development and regrets his actions and never really wanted to hurt Shen Qingqiu. I personally don’t feel like we see as much of this development until the very end. At least for me, I feel like we should’ve spent more time with a changed Luo Binghe, and I KNOW he was influenced by Xi Mo. I still didn’t feel completely satisfied with the Luo Binghe arc. I do think we see more of his development in the extras, which is what made me like Bingqiu a lot more, but I just wish we could’ve seen this in the main story instead of optional extras because I think the extras really show Luo Binghe’s growth and his love for Shen Qingqiu in a healthier way. I am aware this boy is very mentally ill. While I’m not a writer, as a reader, I think mxtx could’ve done more for him because he can end up more dislikable for some people and just less appealing of a love interest. I personally LOVE Luo Binghe and how chaotic he is, but again, that is not for everyone, so I can definitely see why some people don’t like him as much. With Shen Qingqiu, this is a bit different. I felt that by the end of the novel he had massive progress and huge development for his character; even if he still has his flaws, you can really tell he has changed and grown throughout the story, but he’s still himself if that makes sense. I felt wayyy more satisfied with his arc than Luo Binghe's; however, I will say that Shen Qingqiu has this sort of shame. While I wouldn’t necessarily call it internalized homophobia, he does have this sort of stigma towards gay people and him being gay himself. And while it can be funny, if you really think about it, even by the end of the novel and in the extras he still has this shame of sleeping with Binghe and showing basic affection, but I won’t really criticize this much because he does improve in this a lot by the extras. By that point, it really feels more like shyness than the shame he felt at the beginning when he first discovered Luo Binghe's feelings. So I will argue that Shen Qingqiu arc is pretty well done and concluded by the end of the book; at least to me, it really did feel like he changed. Okay, so the second reason is because Bingqiu got together when they were both still ‘not at their best’. What do I mean by this? Well in tgcf Xie lian had to endure a lot of torture and experience several traumatic situations and almost released face disease and killed a bunch of people with it. He was clearly very mentally unwell! And for Hua Cheng, he also went through a lot of trauma with his mom dying when he was young and the abuse he went through from his father and the kids who made fun of him to the point where he wanted to end his life, and then later he became a ghost with his parasocial attachment to a god. We see these characters at their worst, but when they get together, they are already 800+ years old and have lived a long life and matured and learned from their experiences.

[posts-written-by-murderbot]

I want to write a screenplay for the competition that's happening here. If you win they make it into a short movie. I think it's super cool. But mama says nobody is going to like my story here. She also says I'm too young but I'm not too young because I'm twelve. It is too young to make a submission but I can ask my older sibling to help. Te likes my idea.

This is my story: they are on an asteroid mining facility. The main character is a miner. Te is very cool and strong. And the other main character is a researcher. She is not so strong but she is very cool also. And one day they mine deep and find a cavern, and there's a monster there. So it steals the main character (the miner) and brings ter to its lair. The researcher is very sad because she thinks she's never gonna see her friend.

But then the third main character comes. They are a SecUnit, and they are super cool. They are two meters tall and can run really fast and jump and they have guns in their arms. So they go to the mine and kill the monster. There's blood everywhere, they tear it apart and then smash it into wall and it's super super cool. But then the wall cracks and rocks start falling on their heads and then SecUnit takes her in their hands and start running really really fast and they escape the mine just before it collapses. The researcher is very happy and she and te hug and kiss. (I think kissing is gross but adults always kiss in media so I think they have to kiss here.)

But then camera shifts to the cave (it's only half collapsed) and there's a woman there in a suit and it has a corporation logo on it..... The same corporation the main characters work for! It was a betrayal, she summoned the monster to kill everyone. And SecUnit can see that because they have fifty drones and can see everything. And so they tell the researcher and the miner and they all take a shuttle and leave. But then the shuttle has a bomb in it! But then SecUnit finds it but it blows up and blows off an arm off of them but the researcher creates a new arm and it's super cool and has five weapons in it! An energy weapon, two different projectal weapons, a sword they can make burn with blue flames and also a weapon that can shoot bombs! And so they all start travelling the universe and fighting evil corporates! And SecUnit goes undercover and pretends to be an augmented human and kills everyone who is bad and saves all the good people! The end.

Do you like my story? Do you think it's gonna win? Do you think I should get my sibling to submit it?? I really want to see it on the screen!! I think the SecUnit character would be super cool.

PS. Tata says you saved ter and ter friends' life like three times and were super cool and then te found out you were a SecUnit!! It is so much cooler than an augmented human!!! I wish I could have weapons in my arms if everyone hurts you you can just blast them to pieces!!! I was so excited when I saw this page you are very cool!

PSPS. They say your name is Eden but this page says you're just SecUnit? Which is weird, is it like your name or what you are? No offence! How do you think I should call my SecUnit?

PSPSPS. Aunt Tapan showed me World Hoppers and said you liked it and I watched it and it's my favorite show now! It's so cool!! And no I'm not ripping it off, my plot is completely different, even from episode 35, for one my story takes place on an asteroid and not a ship. And also everyone survives because the SecUnit is so cool! It was so sad how they just killed off that guy. Like yes he's not important but it's still sad!! I'm so glad they didn't kill off any of the main characters, that would be a bummer. Do you have any other fun shows I could watch??

I... like your story. I don't know if it'll win the competition though. If you want to submit it you should do that, but even if it doesn't win, that doesn't mean it wasn't good. So just keep making stories if you want. Other people's opinions are less important than you doing something that you think is interesting. If they don't like it, fuck 'em.

A few things:

Screenplay has a particular standard of formatting, traditionally. You have a comprehensible synopsis here but you might be interested in learning about format.

A lot of stories have kissing in them but you don't have to add it if you think it's gross. Your tastes might be different from most people and that's fine. (For example, the idea of a heroic SecUnit might not be something that most people understand.)

You probably don't want guns in your arms. There's a lot of legal problems with being classed as a weapon, like making travel more difficult.

I've used different names in different situations, and I've used human names when pretending to be an augmented human. Currently I just go by "SecUnit" most of the time. Your SecUnit character could have any name, but maybe consider why it has the name it does.

Anyway, I'm glad you and your aunt are doing okay. World Hoppers is a good show. If you're interested in adventure serials, you might try Timestream Defenders Orion, Legends of the Fire, and Adventures in the Free Systems.

[kurishiri]

9.5 . . . “ a convenient relationship ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 💋 his side story, chapter 9. this is one you can purchase on your second play through of his route.

— cw: some suggestiveness, could be considered dub-con.

Kate: So, the reason why you do what you do for the people in the slums...

K: ...is it because you understand their pain, and suffering?

Alfons: If it is as you say, that I am doing it for them, then perhaps such is the case.

——In the East End, I show a happy illusion to the bunch crawling their way through this dark reality.

It was something I had continuously done since a young age, so when it came to things such as the reason why I did it or what meaning it held,

to be honest, I couldn’t care less about that.

It was a hobby I had continued out of habit. A source of amusing entertainment. That was all it amounted to.

Kate: ...This is far from the first time you’ve dodged my question.

Perhaps Kate couldn’t accept my response for what it was, because she turned away, pouting.

(...The way she sulks does so resemble that of a child.)

Her profile looked so sweet and darling, the corners of my lips relaxed, unbeknownst to myself.

It felt like I just wanted to leave things the way they were, and keep looking on at it...

Or perhaps, it was a tickling desire to tease her and wanting to boop her...

Alfons: Hehe, you needn’t pucker your lips so.

Kate: ...?

In the end, the latter feelings overtook me, so I booped my fingertips on her lips, causing her to turn her eyes my way.

Alfons: For you see, your words ring so dear to me I just may not be able to resist the urge to give you a kiss here.

Kate: ...!

Her eyes looked into mine, as if she was glaring,

before she looked down, looking hesitantly around my lips.

(...It truly is a walk in the park figuring out what the little robin is thinking.)

(I can’t even be annoyed anymore. At this point I’m even a tad worried for her.)

Alfons: ...Would you like me to do it? Kiss you, I mean.

Kate: Wh—!? N-no, not at all...

Alfons: Why so worked up now? If you want to do it, it’s fine to just say that as is, am I right?

Kate: Well, I don’t want it.

Alfons: Yes, yes, I hear you. So? Were you able to find my weaknesses?

Kate: ...

The conversation ended there, and Kate’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, seemingly dissatisfied.

And as though to hide any shame, she cleared her throat before suddenly turning away again.

(Hehe... ahh, she’s just so cute.)

(Getting played so easily like a toy, what a poor soul you are, Miss Kate.)

Kate: ...No, I couldn’t find any. I mean, you answered my questions just like that, without any hesitation.

K: So, I take it that you having been an orphan and the fact you use your abilities in the slums couldn’t amount to something like a weakness?

Alfons: Is that so? I wonder about that.

A: You see, aside from Elbie and Roger, I also am not sure who else knows of my true origins.

Kate: Huh!?

K: Are you saying not even Victor and William know...?

Alfons: Well, I suppose those two would be in the know.

A: Oh, while we’re at it, I reckon Jude may have somehow gotten wind of it too. Other than those three, though, who is in the know is beyond me.

A: And if I were to tell any social circle about it, forget about nonexistent trust, even that would crumble away, no?

Kate: ...Then is that to say the people in that pub, and the people whom you refer to as your ‘friends’ are also in the know?

Alfons: Ahha! Hardly. I don’t reveal more than absolutely necessary. And that goes both ways as well.

A: Things like reality only interfere with convenience.

(...Oh?)

Come to think of it, why did I reveal my background so honestly to her like that?

Kate: ...If so,

K: why did you tell me all this then?

She voiced the question that popped into my mind.

Alfons: Hmm... I wonder, now why did I.........?

(If I understood the ways of my own heart, giving an immediate answer to the question of ‘why’ would be a simple feat, but alas.)

What was thought to be there was nowhere to be seen, and conversely, what was thought to be nowhere was, in actuality, there.

And to me——I had little energy to look deeply into the thing called my heart.

After all, I was well aware that there would’ve been nothing good in there.

Alfons: ...That is a great question. One whose answer I know as well as you.

(There’s no need to give Kate the truth,)

(and thinking about it will yield nothing in return.)

Alfons: If I had to guess, though, perhaps it’s because you nearly moved me to tears, having followed me all the way out to such a place, I felt like telling you?

So I gave whatever answer I thought of before turning to the window, where the silhouette of London at night flew by, vaguely melted into the darkness.

All of a sudden, Kate, who had just been quiet, sucked in a breath.

Kate: I’ve decided to stop trying to look for your weakness on the sly.

Alfons: ...Come again now?

I turned my gaze next to me, where she was looking at me, with her usual straightforward eyes.

Kate: Because more than your weaknesses, I’m interested to know more about your true feelings.

K: I was thinking... I would like to get to know you better.

(.........) (O_O)

Kate: That’s why, I think if it meant I could know more about you...

K: I... wouldn’t mind becoming your ‘exclusive fairytale keeper.’

Alfons: ...Well, I’ll be.

(Perhaps, the reason I opened up about my background——)

(Was it because she was able to say such foreign-sounding words like ‘I will face you to the fullest’ and whatnot to my face?)

(Maybe it’s because I was hit with such foolish honesty.)

Kate’s expression seemed bright, and seeing that, my body seemed to tickle a smile out of me from the inside.

(How pitiful you are, Miss Kate.)

(Though it pains me to say, I don’t have an ounce of intention of reciprocating the sentiment.)

(But, if this means your mind will be filled to the brim with thoughts of me... then it’s all the more convenient for me.)

(By all means, may you dance atop the palm of my hand to the best of your ability.)

Alfons: If that’s the case, would it be safe to say that you would accept me doing these kinds of things with you?

Kate: ? What do you mean, ‘these kinds of thi’——

I closed the distance between us, my face approaching her, and Kate’s shoulders shook, understanding my intentions,

Kate: No, that’s... this and that are different.

Her face completely red, she pushed her palm on my mouth.

Alfons: ...Hehe.

(As always, you’re awfully inept at resisting, aren’t you.)

Kate: Eek...!?

I licked her palm, and with a cute cry, my mouth was free from her hands.

Alfons: Was it not the case that you were hoping to grasp my weaknesses because you were unable to avoid things like this, or am I wrong?

Kate: I-I mean, I would be able to prevent it as long as you didn’t touch the back of my neck.

Alfons: So you say, but I do find it doubtful you were able to avoid what I did now?

I placed my hand next to her legs across from myself.

I leaned forward, staring at her from a point-blank distance.

Alfons: Oh, yes, come to think of it, when we did naughty things at the back of the pub, I hadn’t used any of my abilities.

A: And yet as far as I recall, you still became loose and wet here, no?

Kate: T-that... I’m pretty sure it was all your fault.

Alfons: And why is that?

Kate: Because you frequent such strange places... it’s all on you.

(Aha, as it should.)

Alfons: Then, in this case, whose fault is it?

Kate: ——mn...!

I grasped at her defenseless wrists and stole her lips.

Kate: Mngh... mn——

I pulled her toward me, and Kate, whose eyes were wide open, closed tightly.

Kate: ah... ngh...!

My tongue through the gap of her lips intertwined with hers,

and her arms went limp, her body relaxing.

When I licked her upper jaw, a cute noise came out from her nose.

Alfons: Perhaps the fault lies with the shock of having seen something so strange, or perhaps it’s because of the shaking of the carriage...

A: If you wish for these kinds of explanations, I could give you these all day.

A: And if you so dislike the idea that you will lose your dignity if you don’t resist,

A: then I will not mind at all if you aaalways feign resistance.

As if ashamed of the anticipation, she closed her legs as I stroked her thighs,

and I slowly lifted up the hem of her skirt that was over her trembling knees.

Kate: Hah... ah, ngh... no...

(Even though your entire body is practically saying ‘I feel good’?)

Alfons: Since this relationship will end after only a month... let us enjoy ourselves, Miss Kate.

A: After all——you do so love pleasurable things like this, do you not?

Kate: N-no, I... I don’t...

Her breaths were short and restless as she tried her hardest to deny it. Such a sight held its own charm.

(Indeed——you don’t, yes?)

(After all, the reason you became this way in the first place was aaall because of me.)

(That’s all it has to be.)

Kate: ah... n-no, we can’t do this... not in a carriage...

Alfons: ...Then, where can we do this?

Kate: Ah——

Alfons: Your bed, perhaps? That said... I do find myself wondering if you will be able to hold yourself back until then?

Kate: ah... I-I...

Her lips half-open, I gently kissed her, sealing away any excuses.

Alfons: Shh... there is no need to give me a clear-cut answer.

A: When all is over and done with, you can simply blame it all on me. Then you won’t have to worry, yes?

(What is true, and what is not... let’s become so good that such things become trivial.)

I wouldn’t step too far. And I wouldn’t let anyone step too far either.

It was a convenient relationship just to give ourselves over to pleasure.

(That is all it needs to be between us.)

For some reason, the sight of her pouting profile popped up in the back of my mind, before fading away.

← back next →

masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!

[amethystarachnid]

Hello. I’d like to request a Loki x Fem!Reader. Not sure if you’ve seen Step Up 3 but the song Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan was played and basically in the scene the two love interests did a tango (I would look it up for reference 🩷). So maybe Loki and Reader are on an undercover mission and they get tied into a tango. You can interpret it however you want but I’ve had this ask stuck in my head for a while now. Hope you like this! 🩷🩷

BOUND BY DUTY

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, flirty

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: Loki has been called form the S.H.I.E.L.D. to help the Avengers with an anomaly that's happening around the world and you're assigned to be his handler. You were told to not trust him but what if under that mask of indifference there's a man just wishing to be loved?

ᯓ★ Word count: 9.7k

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think, just a few hated kisses and flirty comments

ᯓ★ I haven't seen the movie but I've seen the scene on YouTube (like just the 3 minutes ? scene) and really hop you'll like the story

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound feels heavier than usual. It could be the weight of the mission ahead or the fact that the one person who might hold the answers is a literal god—a god of mischief, no less. You’ve been briefed on Loki’s recent exploits, his failed conquest of Earth, and his punishment in Asgard’s dungeons. You know better than to trust him, but you also know that sometimes the devil you know is preferable to the devil you don’t.

Nick Fury has chosen you, of all people, to act as Loki’s handler. You don’t know whether to feel honored or utterly cursed. He claims it’s because of your “unflinching professionalism” and “ability to handle high-pressure situations.” You suspect it’s because most of your colleagues would rather face a firing squad than deal with Loki’s silver tongue.

The sound of the jet door opening draws your attention. You straighten your back and smooth your jacket as two Asgardian guards march down the ramp, their armor gleaming even under the dim hangar lights. Between them walks Loki, his wrists bound in glowing cuffs that hum faintly with suppressed power. He’s wearing his usual dark green attire, though the horned helmet is missing. Without it, his raven-black hair tumbles around his face, framing sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His piercing blue eyes sweep the room, landing on you.

You can feel his gaze like a physical weight, appraising you. He smirks. Of course, he smirks.

“Agent,” Fury’s voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you slightly. “Take him to interrogation. The guards will brief you on his restraints.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, your voice calm and steady despite the flutter in your chest.

The Asgardian guards exchange a few words with you about Loki’s bindings. They warn you not to let your guard down—ever. You assure them you won’t, though you’re starting to realize that resisting Loki’s words might be a different kind of challenge altogether.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing for Loki to follow you. He arches an eyebrow but complies, falling into step beside you. The guards trail behind at a respectful distance.

The walk to the interrogation room is uncomfortably silent. You’re hyper-aware of Loki’s presence beside you, his tall frame moving with a predatory grace. He doesn’t look like someone who’s been imprisoned for months; he looks like he owns the place, and you’re just a guest in his domain.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. Of course, he does.

“Tell me, Agent,” he begins, his voice smooth and lilting, “do they often send mortals to babysit gods, or am I a special case?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, determined not to rise to the bait. “I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any trouble. Think of me as your parole officer.”

He chuckles softly, the sound almost pleasant if you didn’t know better. “And if I were to misbehave, what then? Will you scold me? Perhaps send me to my room without supper?”

His words drip with mockery, but there’s an undercurrent of something else—amusement, maybe even intrigue. You keep your expression neutral. “If you misbehave, you’ll find out just how creative S.H.I.E.L.D. can be when it comes to disciplinary measures.”

“Promises, promises,” he murmurs, and you feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the way his eyes linger on you. You remind yourself that this is what Loki does: he gets under people’s skin, twists their emotions until they don’t know which way is up. You won’t let him succeed.

The interrogation room is as stark and clinical as you’d expect. A metal table and two chairs sit under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. Loki looks around with mild disdain as if the room itself offends his sensibilities.

“This is where you intend to question me?” he asks, his tone dripping with derision. “How... quaint.”

You motion for him to sit. He doesn’t move immediately, instead watching you with that infuriating smirk. Finally, he lowers himself into the chair with the air of someone granting you a great favor.

The guards secure his bindings to the table before stepping back. You nod at them, and they leave, the door clicking shut behind them. Now it’s just you and Loki. You take the seat across from him, pulling out a tablet with your notes.

“We have reason to believe you have information about a recent incident involving extraterrestrial technology,” you say, your voice steady. “S.H.I.E.L.D. recovered several devices that match the energy signature of the Tesseract. We need to know where they came from.”

Loki leans back in his chair, the chains on his wrists clinking softly. “Ah, the Tesseract. Such a fascinating little trinket. Tell me, Agent, do you often meddle in matters beyond your comprehension?”

“This isn’t about me,” you reply coolly. “It’s about you. And what you know.”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And what do I gain from sharing this knowledge? A lighter sentence? A pat on the head? Somehow, I doubt your superiors are feeling particularly charitable toward me.”

“We’re not asking for charity. We’re asking for cooperation. Help us, and we might consider negotiating with Asgard on your behalf.”

Loki’s laughter fills the room, sharp and cold. “Negotiate with Asgard? Oh, how delightfully naive. Do you honestly believe Odin would entertain such an offer? He’d sooner banish me to the farthest reaches of the cosmos than indulge your mortal whims.”

You suppress a sigh, already feeling the weight of this conversation. But then Loki leans forward, his gaze locking onto yours.

“Still,” he says, his voice softer now, almost teasing, “I might be persuaded to cooperate. After all, it would be such a shame to disappoint you.”

There it is again—that deliberate charm, the way he threads his words with just enough sincerity to make you second-guess yourself. You fold your arms, meeting his gaze head-on.

“You don’t intimidate me, Loki.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to intimidate you,” he says, his lips curling into a wicked smile. “Merely... entertain you. Is that not the proper term for what mortals call ‘flirting’?”

Your stomach flips, but you keep your expression neutral. “If this is your idea of flirting, I’m not impressed.”

“Hmm,” he muses, leaning back again. “Perhaps I’ve spent too long among Asgardians. We have a certain... flair for tradition. Shall I compose you a sonnet instead? Or perhaps challenge another suitor to a duel in your honor?”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You quickly school your features, but not before Loki notices. His smirk widens.

“There it is,” he says, his tone triumphant. “A crack in the armor. I knew you weren’t entirely immune to my charms.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you tap a few notes into your tablet, focusing on the task at hand.

“Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” you say firmly. “Where did the devices come from?”

Loki sighs dramatically, as if the question bores him. “You mortals are so dreadfully predictable. Always demanding answers, yet never willing to pay the price for them.”

“What’s the price?”

He tilts his head, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Your name.”

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Your name, Agent,” he repeats, enunciating the words slowly, as if you’re a particularly dense student. “You see, it’s rather difficult to have a proper conversation when I must refer to you as simply ‘Agent.’ It’s so... impersonal.”

You hesitate. It’s not a particularly sensitive piece of information, but giving him your name feels like handing him a weapon. Still, you decide it’s a small concession if it means making progress.

“Y/N,” you say finally. “My name is Y/N.”

Loki’s smile softens, though it’s no less dangerous. “A beautiful name for a beautiful mortal. Tell me, Y/N, do all agents possess your... charm, or are you truly one of a kind?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” you reply, though your cheeks warm slightly at the compliment. You hope the harsh lighting hides it.

“Ah, but it’s not flattery if it’s true,” he counters smoothly. “And if I may say so, you wear skepticism rather well. It suits you.”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to laugh. Loki’s flirtations are relentless, but you can’t let them distract you. You refocus on the task, determined to get the answers you need.

But as the interrogation continues, one thing becomes clear: working with Loki is going to be anything but straightforward.

The quinjet ride to Avengers Tower is suffocating in its silence. Loki sits across from you, his long legs stretched out casually as if he owns the entire aircraft. His wrists remain bound, the faint glow of the Asgardian cuffs serving as a reminder of his diminished power. But that doesn’t stop him from exuding arrogance with every calculated shift of his posture.

“Is this where I’m supposed to tremble?” he muses, his voice cutting through the quiet. “The great Avengers Tower, lair of the mighty heroes who so thoroughly bested me.” His smirk deepens. “How quaint.”

You’re seated across from him, tablet in hand, pretending to review your notes. But Loki’s presence is impossible to ignore, his every word curling around you like smoke.

“Maybe don’t insult the people who’ll be watching your every move,” you say, not looking up. “They’re already not thrilled about this arrangement.”

He tilts his head, watching you with something between amusement and curiosity. “And you, Y/N? Are you thrilled?”

“I’m doing my job.”

“Oh, but your job now entails keeping me under control, does it not?” His voice lowers, playful and conspiratorial. “Tell me, how does it feel to hold the leash of a god?”

You glance up, meeting his eyes without flinching. “It feels like babysitting a particularly arrogant toddler.”

His laughter rings out, rich and genuine, surprising you. For a moment, you think you’ve caught him off guard. But then his expression shifts back to its usual smugness, and you realize he’s thoroughly enjoying this verbal sparring.

When the quinjet lands on the rooftop pad of Avengers Tower, you rise, gesturing for Loki to follow. He does, the clinking of his cuffs echoing as he steps out into the open air. The city sprawls out below, glittering in the early evening light, but Loki barely spares it a glance. His focus remains on the tower itself, his smirk growing as he takes in the structure.

“Ah, Stark’s playground,” he says. “I trust the man himself is waiting inside, ready to deliver a string of tiresome quips?”

“Something like that,” you reply, leading him toward the elevator.

As the doors slide open, Loki steps inside with the air of a man entering his throne room. You press the button for the common floor, bracing yourself for the chaos that’s about to unfold.

The doors slide open to reveal the Avengers lounging in the common area. Tony Stark is leaning against the bar, a drink in hand, while Natasha Romanoff sharpens a knife at the table. Steve Rogers stands near the window, arms crossed, his jaw tight. Bruce Banner hovers awkwardly in the background, glancing up as you and Loki step in.

“Look who’s here!” Tony’s voice cuts through the tension, dripping with mock enthusiasm. “Reindeer Games himself. I thought Asgard had a no-returns policy.”

Loki’s lips curl into a predatory smile. “Ah, Stark. Still compensating for something, I see.”

“Alright, let’s not,” you interject quickly, stepping between them. “Loki’s here to help us, not pick a fight.”

“Help us?” Steve’s voice is cold, his gaze sharp as it settles on Loki. “That’s a generous interpretation.”

“It’s true,” you reply, keeping your tone firm. “We’ve encountered tech with energy signatures similar to the Tesseract. Loki’s the only one who might have answers.”

“Because trusting the guy who tried to enslave the planet worked out so well the first time,” Tony quips, raising his glass.

Loki chuckles softly. “It’s heartwarming to see how fondly you remember me.”

Bruce shifts uncomfortably in the corner, his eyes darting between Loki and the others. You don’t miss the tension in his posture, the way his hands twitch as if ready to retreat at a moment’s notice. Loki notices too, and for the first time since his arrival, a flicker of unease crosses his face. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

“I see the beast is still lurking,” Loki says, his voice quieter now, though the edge remains. “Tell me, Dr. Banner, does he hunger for revenge?”

Bruce flinches, his face pale. “I—I’d rather not...”

“Enough,” you cut in sharply, fixing Loki with a glare. “You’re here to cooperate, remember?”

Loki raises his hands as far as the cuffs allow, feigning innocence. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten the good doctor.”

Bruce mutters something under his breath and retreats further into the room. You make a mental note to keep an eye on both him and Loki; their shared tension feels like a powder keg waiting to ignite.

After the initial round of barbs, you manage to get Loki settled in a secure room. It’s more comfortable than the dungeons of Asgard but still far from luxurious—bare walls, a simple bed, and a reinforced door with biometric locks.

“Charming,” Loki says, surveying his new accommodations. “I feel right at home.”

“Good,” you reply, leaning against the doorframe. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. If you step out of line, even once, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He steps closer, just enough to invade your space without crossing a line. His voice drops to a low purr. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t doubt your ability to... discipline me. In fact, I almost look forward to it.”

Your cheeks flush despite yourself, but you hold your ground. “Get some rest. We’ll debrief tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave, you hear his voice again, softer this time. “Y/N?”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. He’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite place—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper.

“Why do you trust them with me?” he asks. “Your precious Avengers. Do you truly believe they can keep me in line?”

You meet his gaze, your own unwavering. “I don’t trust them to keep you in line. That’s my job.”

His smirk returns, but there’s something almost genuine beneath it. “Indeed, it is.”

The following day, the team gathers in the briefing room. Loki is seated at the far end of the table, his wrists still bound, though his demeanor remains as smug as ever. A holographic projection displays images of the recovered devices, their design sleek and alien.

“These were found in an abandoned Hydra facility,” you explain, gesturing to the display. “They emit the same energy signature as the Tesseract, but we have no idea what they’re for. That’s where Loki comes in.”

All eyes turn to him. He leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“Convince me,” he says, his tone light but his eyes sharp. “Why should I share my insights with you?”

“Because if you don’t,” Tony says, leaning forward, “we’ll lock you in a room with Banner and see how long it takes before the Other Guy wants a rematch.”

Bruce shoots Tony a horrified look, but Loki’s smirk falters for a split second. You notice the way his fingers tighten against the edge of the table.

“Enough,” you say firmly. “We’re not resorting to threats.” You turn to Loki, your voice softening slightly. “You know what’s out there, and you know how dangerous it can be. Help us stop it. Prove you’re not the monster everyone thinks you are.”

For a moment, the room is silent. Loki’s gaze locks onto yours, something flickering in his expression—something almost vulnerable. Then, slowly, he inclines his head.

“Very well,” he says, his voice smooth once more. “Let’s see if mortals can keep up.”

As the meeting disperses, Loki lingers behind, waiting until it’s just the two of you.

“Nicely done, Y/N,” he says, his tone almost... complimentary. “You’ve mastered the art of persuasion.”

“I didn’t persuade you,” you reply. “I just told the truth.”

He steps closer, his smirk returning. “And yet, it worked. I wonder, what other truths might you use to sway me?”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Let’s focus on saving the world first, shall we?”

“As you wish,” he says, bowing his head slightly. But as he steps past you, his voice drops to a whisper. “Though I suspect saving me might be your true challenge.”

You watch him leave, your heart inexplicably pounding. This mission just got a lot more complicated.

The next morning, the Avengers leave in a flurry of purpose and energy, Stark’s voice echoing with instructions as they file out of the tower. It’s a rare sight—every single one of them heading into the field together. You’re left behind, tasked with monitoring Loki and keeping the tower secure.

The quiet that follows their departure is almost unnerving. You sit in the common area, flipping through a report on your tablet, when Loki saunters in. He’s unbound for now—S.H.I.E.L.D.’s restraints only used when necessary. His movements are languid, predatory, as he crosses the room with his usual air of entitlement.

“Left alone with me again, Y/N?” he drawls, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

You don’t look up. “You’re always alone, Loki. I’m just here to make sure you don’t destroy anything or anyone.”

He hums thoughtfully, his sharp gaze raking over you. “I wonder, is that truly why you remain? Or do you find my company... intriguing?”

You glance at him, exasperated. “I find it tolerable. At best.”

“And yet, here you are.” His smirk widens as he steps closer, just enough to test your boundaries. “Tell me, Agent, what do you do when the others aren’t here to play their parts? Surely, you don’t spend every waking moment in this dull little tower watching me.”

“Someone has to.” You set your tablet aside and stand, trying to put some distance between the two of you. “Why don’t you make my job easier and sit quietly for once?”

“But then how would I amuse myself?” He takes another step closer, his voice lowering. “You may not admit it, but I suspect you’d miss my antics if I were to behave.”

You roll your eyes and walk toward the kitchen, feigning indifference. “Don’t flatter yourself, Loki.”

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. You keep yourself busy with monitoring systems and catching up on reports, all while Loki stays suspiciously quiet in his room. It's unusual—he’s normally a restless presence, eager to test limits.

You assume his compliance is a sign of temporary boredom. What you don’t know is that Loki is lying in his sparse room, calculating. He’s been studying the tower’s security systems, searching for a way to slip past its safeguards. Tonight might be the night, he thinks. He’s memorized the patterns, the gaps, and he knows he can vanish before the Avengers even realize he’s gone.

As the hours stretch into evening, you retire to your room, unaware of the god’s intentions. Your space is a rare sanctuary in the tower, a blend of cozy practicality and personal touches that feel distinctly you.

Loki waits until the tower falls completely silent. With a wave of his hand, he disables the monitoring device in his room. It’s a minor spell—one he’s been saving for the right moment. The cuffs are no longer a problem; he’s studied the locking mechanism enough to slip them off without much effort.

He steps into the hallway, his bare feet silent on the cool floor. For the first time in weeks, he feels a surge of freedom, the tantalizing promise of escape. He heads for the exit, his mind already planning the next steps.

But as he passes by your room, a faint sound catches his attention. The door is slightly ajar, spilling a sliver of warm light into the hall. Loki hesitates, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

He peeks inside—and what he sees makes his breath hitch.

You’re standing in front of your bed, freshly out of the shower. Your hair is damp, curling against your shoulders, and you’re wearing nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around your body. The bathroom door behind you is still open, steam curling into the air, and the glow of a bedside lamp bathes your skin in soft light.

Completely unaware of your observer, you move to the dresser, pulling it open to retrieve clothes. As you reach up, the towel slips slightly, revealing more of your shoulder and the curve of your collarbone. Loki swallows hard, a rush of heat pooling in his chest and spreading lower.

He knows he should leave—should slip away unnoticed and continue with his plan. But he doesn’t move.

There’s something captivating about this glimpse of you outside the professional walls you keep so firmly in place. You’re unguarded, human in a way he rarely sees, and it stirs something in him he doesn’t entirely understand.

He takes a step closer, his presence still undetected. The urge to say something, to tease you as he always does, bubbles up, but he suppresses it.

For once, the god of mischief is utterly silent.

You turn suddenly, as if sensing something, and his heart lurches. He retreats quickly, pressing himself against the wall just as your eyes flick toward the door.

“Hello?” you call, your voice uncertain.

Loki curses himself for his foolishness. He shouldn’t have lingered—but now that he’s seen this side of you, his desire to leave the tower has shifted. He watches as you step closer to the door, your expression wary.

He slips away, retreating to his room without a sound. Once inside, he leans against the wall, his mind racing.

The thought of escape still lingers in the back of his mind, but it no longer feels urgent. Not tonight.

Not when he knows you’re here, in the same space, entirely unaware of the effect you’ve had on him.

You find Loki in the common area, lounging on the couch as if nothing happened. His cuffs are back in place, though you notice a faint smugness in his expression, as if he knows something you don’t.

“Good morning,” he says smoothly, his tone laced with amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You seem chipper today.”

“Perhaps I’ve found reason to be,” he replies, his gaze flickering over you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You frown, brushing off the unease that his words stir. “Try not to enjoy yourself too much. You’re still under watch.”

“Of course,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “But tell me, Y/N, how did you sleep? Peacefully, I hope.”

There’s something about the way he says it—soft, teasing, with just a hint of mischief—that makes you pause.

You brush past him, refusing to let him get under your skin. But as you walk away, you can feel his eyes on you, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

And in his room later, Loki sits at the edge of his bed, the memory of you from the night before seared into his mind.

For now, his escape can wait.

The tension in the air was thick as the Avengers gathered in the briefing room, the holographic screen showing images of the upcoming gala. Tony Stark stood at the head of the table, his hands resting on the surface, eyes narrowed as he analyzed the data. Steve Rogers was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw set, while Natasha Romanoff sat with a focused expression, her fingers tapping lightly on the table. Bruce Banner, still uneasy around Loki, looked at the screen, then at his colleagues, silently awaiting the inevitable question.

"Alright," Tony began, his voice cutting through the thick silence. "We've got a masked gala happening in three days. High-profile event. The criminals we're tracking are expected to make a deal there, and it's our best shot at catching them."

"But they’ll be surrounded by a lot of people," Natasha said, folding her arms. "And these are highly dangerous individuals—some with connections to Hydra. We can’t risk a full-on assault."

"I agree," Steve added, his tone serious. "If we act too soon, we’ll spook them. We need to get inside, gather intel, and only move in when we have enough to bring them down safely."

"The problem," Tony continued, tapping a button on the table to bring up a closer view of the suspects, "is that they’re too well-protected. The best way in is through someone they don’t expect. Someone like... Loki."

The room went quiet. Everyone exchanged glances, the air thick with unease. Even though Loki had been cooperating—somewhat—the trust wasn’t there. Not after what he’d done. Not after the chaos he’d tried to bring to Earth. And still, his knowledge of these kinds of circles, his ability to navigate a room and blend in with the highest of society—well, it was a skill set they couldn’t afford to ignore.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” Tony continued. “But he’s the only one who can do this. We send him in as a guest. He can be charming—when he wants to be—and this kind of event is perfect for him. He won’t be recognized as a threat. In fact, they’ll probably be more inclined to trust him because of his past affiliations.”

“But we can’t just let him roam free,” Steve said, his distrust of the god evident. “There’s still the matter of him being dangerous. Even if he’s pretending to play nice, he’s unpredictable.”

“Exactly,” Tony said with a nod. “Which is why we’ll send Y/N in with him. As his escort.”

The room went silent again, this time for a different reason. Every eye turned to you, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of their gazes. It wasn’t exactly a choice you’d been expecting. You had done plenty of fieldwork, but partnering with Loki? That was a new level of uncomfortable.

“Y/N’s been on the ground for this mission longer than any of us,” Tony continued, sensing the hesitation. “She knows the people, she knows how to blend in, and most importantly, she knows Loki better than any of us. She can keep him in check. Plus, we need someone who can keep him focused when things get... tense.”

You couldn’t help but shoot Tony a sharp look. “You’re assuming I’ll be able to control him. I’m not sure that’s realistic.”

“I’m confident you can,” Tony said with a shrug, though his tone was far from comforting. “Besides, we’ll be monitoring you both from the moment you step inside. We’ll be feeding you intel, and we’ve got backup in case things go sideways. But we can’t afford to miss this opportunity.”

You let out a long breath. The Avengers were right in one respect—this gala would be the criminals’ first big move, and it was the perfect chance to catch them red-handed. The only problem was the wild card in all of this—Loki.

“You do realize, he’s going to hate this, right?” you said, glancing toward the hallway where Loki’s room was. “He won’t go along with it without making some... demands.”

“I’m aware,” Tony said with a smirk. “But that’s where you come in. You’re going to keep him in line, whether he likes it or not.”

The idea of working so closely with Loki was disconcerting, to say the least. You weren’t sure if you were more concerned about his volatile personality or the way he looked at you—like he could read you with a single glance. Either way, being his partner at a high-stakes event was sure to turn this mission into something far more complicated than it already was.

“You’ll need to get him suited up,” Tony added. “Dress him the part. He’s got the charm, but he’s going to need the right... accessories to sell it. A tux, maybe something dark and mysterious. And, of course, a story. We’re going with the ‘rich but elusive businessman’ angle.”

You nodded reluctantly. “I’ll make sure he’s... presentable. But don’t expect him to be on his best behavior just because he’s wearing a suit.”

“I’m counting on you to make sure he stays in character, Y/N,” Tony said, locking eyes with you. “We need him to play nice for just a few hours. If he steps out of line, you have full clearance to use whatever means necessary to rein him in.”

Steve cleared his throat, stepping forward. “I don’t like putting you in this position, Y/N. But this is the only chance we’ve got to take down these criminals. You know the risks, and we’re counting on you to make sure Loki doesn’t derail everything.”

“I get it,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “I’ll keep him focused. But if he decides to do something... foolish, don’t expect me to clean up after him.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tony said with a grin. “But seriously, we’re counting on you both. The gala is our best chance to catch them. You’ll be getting intel from us in real time, so we’ll know exactly when to move in.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on your shoulders. This wasn’t just about stopping criminals—it was about making sure Loki didn’t ruin everything, too. And while you could handle the job, you knew it wouldn’t be easy, especially with a god of mischief at your side.

As you walked to Loki’s room to prepare him for the mission, your mind raced. You were about to go undercover with someone who had a knack for turning every situation into a game. It was going to be a challenge, no doubt about it. But if it meant catching the criminals and keeping the tower—and your team—safe, you were ready to do whatever it took.

You reached his door and knocked twice, preparing yourself for the inevitable confrontation. It was time to bring him into the fold, even if that meant wrestling him into a tux and a plan.

Inside, Loki’s voice echoed through the door. “Come in, Y/N. I trust this isn’t a social call?”

You opened the door, steeling yourself. The mission was about to begin, and there was no turning back.

The grandeur of the gala hits you the moment you step into the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the crowd, illuminating the sea of elegant masks and opulent gowns. A live band plays a sultry melody, the kind that fills the air with the promise of secrets. Beside you, Loki cuts an imposing figure, his sharp suit tailored to perfection and his black mask veiling just enough of his face to make him look both alluring and dangerous.

You’re both walking a tightrope here, pretending to be something you’re not while still tethered to the truth. The mission is clear: mingle, gather intel on the criminals, and identify their deal. But the undercurrent of your arrangement hums just beneath the surface, threatening to pull you under with every step.

“They certainly went all out,” Loki muses, his voice smooth as silk. He offers his arm, and though you hesitate for a fraction of a second, you take it. “Is this where I play the doting husband?”

“Try not to overdo it,” you reply, keeping your voice low. “We’re supposed to blend in, not steal the spotlight.”

He tilts his head toward you, his lips curling into a smirk. “But stealing the spotlight is what I do best, darling.”

You give him a warning look, though your heart skips a beat at the way the endearment rolls off his tongue. “Save the theatrics for later. Right now, we need to find our targets.”

He hums in agreement, though the sharp gleam in his eyes suggests he’s more focused on you than the mission. His hand rests lightly over yours as he leads you through the crowd, weaving seamlessly between masked attendees. He’s good at this, you realize, his charm a perfect weapon in this environment.

“Smile,” he murmurs close to your ear, his breath ghosting against your skin. “You look far too serious for someone at a gala.”

You force a small smile, though the proximity of him sends heat rushing to your face. “I’d be more relaxed if I wasn’t babysitting a god with a penchant for chaos.”

“And I’d be more entertained if my wife weren’t so suspicious of me,” he teases, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel intimate.

Before you can retort, Loki’s posture shifts ever so slightly. He leans closer, pretending to adjust your mask, and murmurs, “Our targets are at three o’clock. The tall one with the crimson gown. She’s speaking to a man with a cane.”

You glance subtly in that direction and nod. “Let’s move closer.”

The two of you drift toward the edge of the ballroom, positioning yourselves within earshot of the targets. Loki keeps his hand on yours, the intimate gesture lending an air of authenticity to your cover. You focus on the conversation happening nearby, picking up snippets of information about shipment schedules and encrypted codes.

But then, the music changes.

A familiar tune fills the room—sultry, electric, and unmistakably intense. It’s Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan, reimagined by the live band with a pulsing tango rhythm.

Before you can react, Loki takes your hand and spins you toward the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull back.

“Keeping up appearances,” he says smoothly, his mask glinting in the light. “We’re a married couple, after all. And what better way to celebrate our love than a dance?”

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, but you allow him to lead you onto the floor.

The second your feet touch the polished wood, his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you closer than you expect. His other hand captures yours, holding it just above shoulder height as he begins to move. The tango’s rhythm demands sharp, deliberate steps, and Loki executes them flawlessly, guiding you as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you say, breathless as he spins you.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replies, his voice low and magnetic.

The music swells, the band leaning into the dramatic crescendos, and you feel the tension between you and Loki rise to match it. Every step, every twist of your body against his, feels charged. His hand lingers just a moment too long when it brushes your hip, his fingers grazing the bare skin between your dress and his touch.

“You’re supposed to be watching the targets,” you remind him, though your voice comes out shakier than you’d like.

“Ah, but how could I focus on them when my wife is such a vision?” His tone is playful, but there’s something darker, more serious, behind his words.

As he dips you, your breath catches. The movement is effortless, but the way his eyes bore into yours makes you forget, for a moment, that this is just an act.

The song’s climax hits, and Loki pulls you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he whispers, “Tell me, darling. Are you pretending to enjoy this as much as I am?”

Your heart pounds, though you refuse to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you haven’t pushed me away,” he counters, spinning you once more before the final beats of the song.

The last note hangs in the air as Loki holds you in a dramatic pose, his arm wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. The applause from the crowd barely registers as you realize your breathing has quickened, your skin warm where his hand rests.

He smirks, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Shall we call this a victory, wife?”

You snap back to reality, pulling away just enough to compose yourself. “Don’t get used to it. We still have a mission.”

“Of course,” he says, though the glint in his eyes suggests he’s far more interested in the game he’s playing with you than the criminals in the room.

As the crowd disperses from the dance floor, you glance toward your targets, who seem to have moved toward a private balcony.

“Come on,” you say, tugging at his arm.

Loki follows, but not before leaning close and murmuring, “I’ll be thinking about that dance for a very long time.”

You don’t dignify him with a response, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you. The mission isn’t over yet, and you can only hope Loki’s antics won’t make things even more complicated.

You and Loki follow the targets carefully, keeping a measured distance as they make their way toward a secluded hallway leading to the gala’s private suites. The corridor is dimly lit, lined with ornate wallpaper and gilded sconces. The murmur of the crowd fades, leaving only the faint echo of footsteps as you press closer to the wall, your pulse quickening with the thrill of being so near to your goal.

“They’re heading to the west wing,” Loki whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “It seems our charming couple prefers privacy for their dealings.”

You nod, your heart pounding as you creep along the edge of the hall, trying to stay out of sight. The couple stops just ahead, speaking in hushed tones. Loki steps closer behind you, his presence almost overwhelming in the enclosed space.

“Keep your focus,” you hiss, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I am focused,” he replies, his tone playful but quiet. “Though I can’t help but wonder how much longer we can linger without being noticed.”

It’s a valid concern. The targets seem engrossed in their conversation, but the corridor is too exposed. You glance around, searching for a place to retreat or a better angle to listen in, but before you can decide, one of the criminals glances back sharply, their eyes scanning the hallway.

“They’re looking this way,” Loki mutters, his voice low and urgent.

Panic shoots through you. There’s no time to retreat, no place to hide. Your mind races, and then—on pure instinct—you grab Loki by the lapels of his suit and pull him toward you.

Before he can protest, your lips press against his, your back hitting the wall as you lean into him. His body stiffens for a split second, but then he catches on. His hands come to rest on your waist, fingers curling slightly as he leans into the kiss, matching your urgency with surprising ease.

Your heart hammers in your chest, not just from the danger but from the sudden, electric sensation of Loki’s mouth on yours. His lips are soft yet commanding, his touch both calculated and possessive as he shifts his body to shield you further from view.

“What in the Nine Realms are you doing?” he whispers against your lips, his tone more intrigued than accusatory.

“Keeping us alive,” you murmur back, your voice barely audible as the footsteps approach.

The targets pass by slowly, their footsteps deliberate. You can feel their gaze sweep over you, but you don’t dare look. Instead, you pour every ounce of focus into the act, your fingers curling into the fabric of Loki’s jacket as you deepen the kiss just enough to sell it.

Loki seems to relish the role, tilting his head to deepen the kiss further. His thumb brushes against your waist, sending a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold.

A voice interrupts the moment, sharp and disapproving. “This is hardly the place for such displays.”

You part from Loki abruptly, your face hot as you turn to face the source of the scolding. One of the gala’s staff members, an older man in a crisp uniform, stands a few feet away, his expression one of polite disapproval.

“My apologies,” you say quickly, straightening your mask and trying to appear appropriately chastised. “We got… carried away.”

Loki, ever the performer, offers a sheepish smile that’s somehow more seductive than apologetic. “Forgive us. My wife and I have a difficult time restraining our passions.”

The staff member huffs, clearly unimpressed. “There are designated areas for such… activities. Keep it off the main floor.”

“Of course,” Loki replies smoothly, his hand still resting at the small of your back. “We’ll be more discreet.”

The staff member mutters something under his breath before walking away, and you exhale a shaky breath, your heart still racing. The targets are gone, having paid you no more than a passing glance. The plan worked.

You glance up at Loki, whose expression is unreadable behind his mask. “That was quick thinking,” he says finally, though there’s a teasing edge to his voice. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“It was survival,” you retort, stepping out of his hold and straightening your dress. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He smirks, adjusting his own mask with an air of casual arrogance. “Too late for that, darling. I’m afraid you’ve given me quite a lot to think about.”

You glare at him, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus, Loki. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Ah, but you see,” he says, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr, “now I’m more motivated than ever to see this mission through. And who knows? Perhaps we’ll need to use that particular tactic again.”

You roll your eyes, brushing past him as you head back toward the main event. But as much as you want to dismiss his words, the lingering warmth of his kiss—and the way your body seemed to respond to him—stays with you, making it harder to focus than you’d like.

Loki follows close behind, his footsteps quiet but his presence impossible to ignore. And though neither of you speaks it aloud, there’s an unspoken awareness between you now—an understanding that something has shifted. Whether that’s a good thing or a dangerous one, only time will tell.

The ride back to the Avengers Tower is quieter than you expect, though tension hangs in the air, thick and unyielding. The mission was a success; you and Loki gathered enough intel to pinpoint the criminals’ next move and their precise location. As Tony pilots the jet, he and Natasha pore over the information, already strategizing for the intervention. Steve listens intently, his expression serious, while Bruce sits stiffly in his seat, keeping his distance from Loki, though the god seems entirely unfazed.

You sit across from Loki, your mask now discarded, but the memory of the gala’s events lingers. Every stolen glance, every near-discovery, and every moment you spent pressed against him still simmers in the back of your mind. You can feel his eyes on you, and though you refuse to look at him, your body betrays you, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Quite the evening,” Loki says suddenly, his voice smooth and low. His tone carries the same playful edge it always does, but there’s something else lurking beneath it—something darker, hungrier.

“Successful, at least,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you glance at him. “We accomplished what we came to do.”

“Indeed,” he says, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Though I dare say the evening held more… unexpected delights than anticipated.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, Steve interrupts.

“Focus, you two,” he says sharply. “We’ve got work to do.”

Loki’s smirk widens, but he falls silent, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied air. You cross your arms, willing yourself to ignore him, though the memory of his kiss lingers, stubborn and persistent.

When you return to the Tower, the debriefing is quick and efficient. Tony projects the data you and Loki retrieved, detailing the location of the deal and the criminals’ schedule. The team agrees to strike at dawn, using the element of surprise to their advantage. As plans take shape, you feel a flicker of relief. The night’s tension will soon give way to action, and with any luck, this mission will end successfully.

Once the meeting adjourns, you catch Loki’s eye. “Come on,” you say, gesturing for him to follow. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

“As you wish,” he replies, rising gracefully from his seat.

The walk to his quarters is quiet at first. The Tower feels oddly still in the late hours, the hallways dimly lit. You lead the way, your mind spinning as you try to push away the lingering heat of the gala—the dance, the kiss, the way his hands felt on you. Loki walks beside you, his presence magnetic as ever, his gaze lingering on you even when you refuse to meet it.

When you reach his door, you stop, turning to face him. “Goodnight, Loki,” you say, your voice firm but polite.

But before you can step away, he moves closer.

“You’ve been avoiding my eyes all evening,” he says, his voice a low, velvety murmur. “Why is that, darling? Did I do something to unnerve you?”

“No,” you reply quickly, though the catch in your voice betrays you. “I’ve been focused on the mission, that’s all.”

“Liar,” he says softly, his smirk returning. “You’ve been thinking about it. About us. About the way I touched you, held you, kissed you.”

His words send a rush of heat through you, and you take a step back, your back hitting the wall. He follows, closing the distance until he’s mere inches away, his tall frame towering over you.

“Admit it,” he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You felt it, too—the spark, the fire. I see it in your eyes, Y/N. You want me just as much as I want you.”

You open your mouth to protest, but no words come out. Because he’s right. No matter how much you’ve tried to deny it, the truth is undeniable now, burning in every corner of your being.

His hand rises to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”

But you don’t.

Instead, you lean into his touch, your resolve crumbling as the need overtakes you. Loki’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he realizes your answer.

With a groan, he closes the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s nothing like the one at the gala. This kiss is raw, urgent, and unrestrained, a culmination of every unspoken word and every stolen glance. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips move against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

And to his surprise—and yours—you kiss him back with just as much passion. Your fingers thread through his dark hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the moment. The world falls away, leaving only the heat of his touch and the hunger in his kiss.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing hard, your foreheads resting together. Loki’s hands remain on your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as if he’s afraid you might pull away.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but tender.

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you press your lips to his again, silencing any words with a kiss that speaks volumes. For now, words don’t matter. All that matters is this—this moment, this connection, this fire that neither of you can deny anymore.

And for the first time, neither of you tries to.

The Tower feels different now, quieter in the wake of the mission’s success. The criminals have been apprehended, their operation dismantled, and SHIELD has taken over for the cleanup. But despite the victory, a strange tension lingers, heavy and unspoken. Fury and Thor are locked in discussions about Loki’s fate, and you and Loki are left waiting in his room, suspended in uncertainty.

The silence between you is unlike any other you’ve shared before. It’s not sharp with banter or charged with playful tension; it’s softer, quieter, tinged with something neither of you is willing to name.

You sit on the edge of the small couch by the window, gazing out at the city lights glittering against the dark sky. Loki leans against the desk, his long fingers idly toying with the edge of a book. For once, he’s still—not prowling or pacing, not filling the room with his restless energy.

“They’re taking their time,” you murmur, your voice cutting through the silence.

“They always do,” Loki replies, though his tone lacks its usual sarcasm.

You glance at him, studying his profile. He looks calm, almost serene, but you’ve spent enough time with him to see through the mask. The faint furrow in his brow, the tension in his jaw, the way his hands grip the book just a little too tightly—they all betray him.

“They’ll make the right decision,” you say softly, more to yourself than to him.

He scoffs lightly but doesn’t look at you. “The right decision,” he repeats, the words laced with bitterness. “That depends entirely on who is defining it.”

You sigh, standing and moving closer to him. “Loki, you helped. You could’ve run at any point during this mission, but you didn’t. That has to count for something.”

His lips twist into a faint smirk, though there’s no humor in it. “And do you think that will sway Fury or my brother? Do you think they’ll forget what I’ve done? The chaos, the destruction?”

“They don’t have to forget,” you say, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “But they can see that you’re not the same person who attacked New York. You’ve changed, Loki.”

His gaze finally lifts to meet yours, and for a moment, something raw flashes in his eyes—something vulnerable and uncertain. “Have I?”

You place your hand over his, stilling his restless movements. “Yes. You have. I see it. And if they can’t, then that’s their failure, not yours.”

The room falls into silence again, but this time, it feels different. Loki’s hand shifts beneath yours, his fingers curling around yours as he exhales slowly.

“What do you think they’ll decide?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “But whatever happens, we’ll face it. Together.”

His eyes search yours, and for a moment, the mask falls away entirely. You see the man beneath—the uncertainty, the fear, the hope he doesn’t dare acknowledge.

“You say that as if you’ll still be by my side when this is over,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don’t hesitate. “I will be.”

His hand tightens on yours, his eyes holding yours as if trying to memorize every detail. Then, without warning, he pulls you closer, his other hand rising to cradle your face.

“If this is to be the last time we’re alone,” he says, his voice trembling slightly, “then let it be a moment worth remembering.”

Your heart aches at the words, at the vulnerability he’s showing. But you don’t argue. Instead, you lean into him, closing the gap between you.

The kiss is different this time. It’s not urgent or hungry but slow and lingering, filled with a quiet desperation. His lips move against yours as if savoring every second, every touch, every taste. His hands are gentle, one cradling your cheek while the other rests on your waist, anchoring you to him.

You lose yourself in him, in the way he holds you like you’re something fragile and precious, in the way his touch feels like both a promise and a farewell.

When you finally part, your foreheads rest together, and the world outside feels impossibly far away.

“No matter what they decide,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly, “you’re not alone. You never will be.”

For a long moment, Loki doesn’t speak. Then he nods, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he closes his eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the words so quiet you almost miss them.

The two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the world outside fade away. For now, there’s no SHIELD, no judgment, no uncertain future. There’s only this—this moment, this connection, this fragile yet unbreakable bond.

And for now, that’s enough.

The knock at the door comes like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile stillness you and Loki have wrapped yourselves in. You tense in his arms, and his grip on you tightens briefly before he lets you go, stepping back as though putting distance between you is the only way to shield himself from what’s coming.

You take a deep breath and move to answer the door, Loki trailing behind you. When you open it, you’re greeted by the imposing figures of Nick Fury and Thor. Fury’s face is unreadable, his single eye piercing as it moves between you and Loki. Thor’s expression is graver than you’ve ever seen it, a heaviness in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“May we come in?” Fury asks, his voice clipped.

You nod, stepping aside to let them enter. Loki lingers near the window, his posture deceptively casual as he leans against the wall. But you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers curl faintly against his sides.

Fury and Thor take positions near the center of the room, both of them standing tall and commanding. Thor’s gaze lingers on Loki, a mix of concern and judgment flashing across his face.

“We’ve reached a decision,” Fury begins, his tone as sharp as ever. “It wasn’t an easy one, considering everything Loki has done in the past and the risks he poses in the future.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you glance at Loki. He’s staring at Fury now, his expression a careful mask of indifference.

“Loki Laufeyson,” Thor says, his deep voice cutting through the tension. “Your actions during this mission have proven that you are capable of aiding Midgard without causing harm. However, they do not erase the destruction you have wrought.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “How magnanimous of you, brother. Do get to the point.”

Thor’s jaw tightens, but he presses on. “You will not be returned to Asgard’s dungeons. Instead, you will remain here, under the supervision of SHIELD and the Avengers. Your movements will be restricted, and any deviation from the terms of your parole will result in severe consequences.”

Fury nods. “Think of it as probation. You step out of line, you’re done. No exceptions.”

You exhale a shaky breath, relief flooding through you despite the harshness of their words. Loki isn’t going back to Asgard’s prison. He isn’t being taken away.

Loki, however, seems less than impressed. “So, I am to be your prisoner still, but with a longer leash?”

“Consider it an opportunity,” Thor says, his tone softening slightly. “To prove that you are more than your past mistakes.”

Loki’s smirk fades, and for a moment, something unreadable flashes in his eyes. He looks away, his gaze drifting to the window.

“And what role do I play in this… probation?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“You’ll assist the Avengers as needed,” Fury says bluntly. “Your skills are… useful, when not being used to destroy things.”

“Charming,” Loki mutters.

Fury ignores the comment, turning his attention to you. “As for you, Y/N, you’ll remain his primary handler. You’ve proven capable of keeping him in check, and frankly, you’re the only one he seems remotely willing to listen to.”

The weight of the responsibility settles over you, but you nod firmly. “Understood.”

Thor steps forward then, his gaze fixed on Loki. “Do not squander this chance, brother. It may be the only one you are given.”

Loki meets his gaze, his expression unreadable. “I’ll endeavor not to disappoint you, Thor.”

The words are polite, but there’s a sharpness to them, a bitterness that hasn’t faded. Thor watches him for a moment longer before nodding and turning to leave. Fury follows, but not before giving you a pointed look.

“Keep him in line,” he says, and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him.

The room falls into silence again, heavier now than before. You turn to Loki, who remains by the window, his back to you.

“Well,” he says finally, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “It seems I’m to be your ward indefinitely. I hope you’re prepared for the burden.”

You take a step closer, your heart aching at the undercurrent of vulnerability in his tone. “Loki… this is a second chance. They didn’t have to give you that.”

He turns to face you, his expression guarded. “A second chance to serve as their pet sorcerer, you mean. To be tolerated, not trusted.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, moving closer still. “It’s a chance to prove them wrong. To show them who you really are.”

“And who is that, Y/N?” he asks, his voice dropping. “Who do you think I really am?”

You hesitate, your throat tightening as you search for the right words. “I think you’re someone who’s been hurt, someone who’s made mistakes, but someone who’s still capable of doing good. Of being… more.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. Then, to your surprise, he chuckles—a quiet, almost bitter sound.

“You are a strange woman, Y/N,” he says, shaking his head. “But perhaps that’s what I need.”

You smile faintly, stepping even closer until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’ll never have to face this alone, Loki. Not as long as I’m here.”

He gazes at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, he lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“You’re maddening, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low and tender.

“Then we’re even,” you reply, your lips quirking into a faint smile.

For the first time that night, his smirk softens into something more genuine. And as he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, the weight of the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

[venomwrites]

Caitlyn and Vi cuddling with each other in a free morning, telling each other their love and other sweet things

“I have something for you,” Caitlyn says. 

Vi lifts her head from Caitlyn’s thigh. Its early morning and sunlight is pouring through the windows of her apartment. It’s more sunlight than Vi ever has had access to. Even though Caitlyn’s suggested blinds, Vi can’t make herself hang them up. 

“It’s not my birthday,” she points out. 

“Have you ever gotten a present on your birthday?” Caitlyn asks, “beatings don’t count.”

“Good point,” Vi sighs, “but that was tradition.”

Caitlyn makes a disapproving sound in the back of her throat. It’s weird to be given presents. It’s weird how people give them all the time up here. Like all the time. You moved house? Present. Having a kid? Present. Hurting? Get well present. They even name some of them. When Vi secured the apartment people just showed up with shit. It was bizarre. Before she owned the clothes on her back. Now she owns enough plates to invite people over. 

“Do I have to sit up for this present?” She asks. 

“Probably not,” Caitlyn says, “give me your hand.” 

The box is small. She’s never gotten a box like this in her life. There’s a hinge tucked in the fuzzy back so it’s easy to thumb open. Inside is a little cushion. Cut into it are two slots. Each one has a piece of metal in it. They don’t glint in the sunlight like she would expect. But Vi is not fooled. Even though they aren’t shiny she’s sure they are the most expensive thing she’s ever held aside from her gauntlets. 

She sits up and lifts one out. Caitlyn’s chin settles on her shoulder as she turns the earring over. It’s grey and impossibly light. As she rotates it, she sees it hides a secret. The script is very tiny but she can make out Vanders name. Two impossibly tiny chips of gemstone, one gold and one blue, frames the letters. The second one is textured. On the inside scrawls Powder’s name, this one framed by chips of blue and pink. 

“How—“

“While you were training,” Caitlyn says, “I thought you might like new ones.”

She says it easily like she hasn’t just deposited the most expensive, meaningful gift Vi’s ever received in her lap. Vi’s earrings are pieces of metal she’s more or less jammed into her ear. Once they were in, they sure as shit weren’t coming out. Caitlyn has two mostly healed over holes in her lobes. So even though she looked horrified when Vi explained, Vi’s piercings are still usable. 

Vi knows there’s no point in protesting. She learned that the hard way when Caitlyn dragged her to buy non-Enforcer clothes. By the fifth protest Caitlyn had simply marched into the dressing room, bundled her existing, perfectly good, clothes under her arm and walked back out. Those had been one of those random presents that had no name. Caitlyn called them a necessity and pointed out two pairs of pants was the most Vi had owned the entire time she knew her. It was hard to argue with that. 

“These are really nice,” Vi says. It’s not just the metal which she’s sure is. Caitlyn’s really fucking good at the gifting thing. She feels Caitlyn smile. The way she does when Vi accepts gifts. The smile that makes Vi feel worthy of them, “I don’t know how to get mine off.” 

“Hmm,” Caitlyn runs her thumb along the shell of Vi’s ear, “stay here.”

Caitlyn returns with a pair of pliers and a determined look on her face. Vi has no idea how she manages to pull that off wearing nothing but a purple slip that’s high enough to show her thigh scar. But she’s not going to question it. Caitlyn returns to the bed and Vi settles her head back on her thigh. Caitlyn peers over her and Vi admires the way the sunlight cuts through her hair. Instead of trying to twist and see how it plays along all the skin her nightgown reveals. There’s a few tugs and the old pieces of metal slide out. 

“Did I tell you I did those myself?”

“Yes, it looks like it,” Caitlyn replies. She dabs at the skin with antiseptic which feels awesome, “which one here?” She asks, brushing the top of Vi’s ear. 

“Powder,” Vi says. 

Caitlyn slides the earring into place. It feels weird but not in a bad way. Vander goes next through the lower hole. Caitlyn brushes the antiseptic over everything again which leaves her ear tingling. Caitlyn squeezes her shoulder. 

“It’s a bit red but see what you think.” 

They look so similar to her old ones Vi has to stare before it registers. But it feels good. Like some piece of her family is still there. 

“They look good, thanks,” she says. Caitlyn blows out a breath. 

“Good, because I have no idea how we would get these back in,” she admits, holding the misshapen pieces of metal that represent Vi’s old prison life. 

“Actually I’ve got something for you,” Vi says. 

Caitlyn looks surprised. Vi is not the best gift giver. She’s never had the chance to learn. But every time she manages to find something to give to Caitlyn, her whole fucking face lights up. It’s adorable and it catches Vi off guard with how proud it makes her feel. She goes over to her nightstand and pulls out the keyring. Caitlyn looks surprised as Vi offers it to her. A cupcake charm dangles from the ring.

“I know the guy downstairs just lets you in because you’re you, but I figured you should have the option of not talking to him.” 

Caitlyn gets to her knees and kisses her in a way that has Vi pushing onto he toes to make up the height difference. Caitlyn’s the better gift giver but damn. 

If the way Caitlyn is kissing her is any indication, Vi is getting a hell of a lot better at it.

[the-greatest-magic-of-all]

Leaving a mini offering for when you awaken - Thanks for chatting with me while work has been boring me to death :3

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

Fae Wilds

Fabian flinched his hand away when Riz swatted at his fingers, the goblins hand connecting with his knuckles with a stinging crack since he wasn’t pulling his punches. Not anymore. The creature that had tried to hand Fabian a strange piece of fruit snarling at the goblin and earning a venomous hiss from the detective in response before it skuttled up the tree and out of sight into the canopy.

“Just because someone is handing you something doesn’t mean you have to take it.” Riz took a calming breath, rubbing at the bridge of his nose under his glasses before resettling them on his face properly. “In fact, put your hands in your pockets. Please.”

The goblin had needed to explain this to Fabian six times already but the Fae Wilds tended to make most people who weren’t native a little vague at the best of times. He wasn’t mad at his friend, not really, he was just kind of wishing he hadn’t let the half elf invite himself on this little mission in the name of ‘watching Riz’s back’ for him. Sure, adventuring with a partner was much more enjoyable than going solo like he usually did but gods was it stressful when he had to keep an eye on Fabian the entire time. If he’d known Fabians human heritage would cause this much of a handicap on his resistance to the confusing influence of this realm he wouldn’t have let him come at all.

This excursion wasn’t in relation to Fabians case anyway, the leads on that one having run dry a while ago, but Riz still had bills to pay and the half elf was fine with him taking other clients in the meantime. They were in the Fae Wilds searching for information, the detectives current client swearing that his daughter had run off with a member of some fairy court and wanting to know where they’d gone. When Riz had gone through his daughters things he’d had to agree, some of the items and letters she’d left behind faintly humming with traces of magic from this realm when he’d checked them over.

So here they were, just the two of them, trying to find someone they could get information out of without trading away something irreplaceable. Riz had gotten a few leads from some of the less dangerous creatures in the area and had been verifying some of it with another when he heard Fabian speaking with someone behind him. The goblin having to whirl around quickly to smack Fabian on the leg to stop him from saying his name to a beautiful, naked woman that looked like they were carved out of a still living tree. Riz narrowing his eyes and baring his teeth when they ran a flirty finger under Fabian’s chin before giggling and wandering away into the forest around them.

“Oh, sorry The Ball. You were trying to get my attention?” Fabian had stared wistfully after the retreating figure until they were impossible to spot among the foliage, the half elf making a choked noise when Riz reached up to grab him by the collar of his jacket and yank him down to the goblins eye level.

“Stop. Saying. Your. Name. and REALLY stop saying your FULL name. Even if they don’t want to steal it they can do some pretty horrible stuff to you if you’re not careful.”

“Ah. Right. Sorry. Force of habit.” Fabian grinned, happy to let the goblin manhandle him around if he wanted to even though it would be very easy to resist. It meant he got to look at his face up close, even if his brows were knitted together in a frown and his ears were pinned back in a way he knew meant he was upset or worried.

“Fuck, okay. I know you’re having issues remembering all this because of-“ Riz let go of his collar with one hand to gesture vaguely around the pair of them, indicating the fae wild at large. “-but it’s going to cause problems if you keep doing that. So. Give me your name.”

“Hmm? Okay, It’s…” The half elf frowned, his own ears drooping slightly while his eye darted, unfocused, from side to side as he tried to think. “I don’t… why can’t I remember?”

“Oh, good. Excellent. I still remember it so that worked.” Riz let go of his collar, pressing their foreheads together in a brief nuzzle before stepping way from him. “You gave me your name. I’ll give it back once we go home but at least I can keep it safe for you until we do. For now you’ll just have to go by… I dunno. Maximum Legend until we leave.”

Now that a creature of this realm had control of the half-elfs name hopefully it would have the duel effect of helping to clear his mind somewhat. Maximum Legend, for his part, was doing an excellent impression of a stunned fish. Mouth hanging open slightly as he stayed crouched in the position Riz had left him in.

“That’s…. what the fuck The Ball? How in the Nine Hells did you even do that?”

“I am a creature of many talents.”

The half-elf scoffed in response but didn’t argue, standing back up to his full height and following along behind Riz as he started walking again.

It's always a delight to chat with you, and it's one of my favourite things to do! Thank you for this gift. Here's a little something in return, pulled from some of our recent chats.

---

Maximum Legend—ugh, he couldn’t believe Riz was throwing that one drunken night on Leviathan in his face—kept a hand on the hilt of his blade as he stood back to back with Riz as several masked goblins surrounded them. They’d been on their way through a forest of trees as tall as skyscrapers with thick and colourful underbrush. Following their only lead regarding the location of Riz’s client’s daughter, Sarah. Up until they’d been ambushed, of course.

He’d been ready for a fight, but he felt Riz hesitate at the same time he did, thanks to giving their attackers a second look over. Rusty pitchforks, worn sickles, and recently repaired spears. Masks made up of ripped fabric and threadbare work clothes covered with patchwork leather armour. If they were bandits, they had only just started out, but something told them that these people weren’t even that.

Riz glanced at Maximum Legend to make sure they were on the same page before he called out to one of the goblins in Gukliak. Maximum could only follow parts of the back and forth that occurred. He could surmise that Riz had asked the troupe if they’d seen a Halfling girl running around with a member of one of the nearby Courts.

For a moment, the goblins looked shifty about it, but Riz… insisted that her father only wanted to know that she was safe and bring her home if she wasn’t. A bit of conferring between the troupe and another quick exchange with Riz before they lowered their weapons. Giving them both a nod to follow.

The troupe of goblins kept them close as they led them through the forest toward a small village by a winding creek. Small farms on the outskirts of it with farmers tending to strange beasts and even stranger crops. Little houses and shops were built into the massive ivied tree trunks or carved out of giant moss-covered boulders. A village square with a tall pole wrapped in colourful ribbons and flowers that goblin villagers pass by and congregate at to stare at him and Riz as they’re led deeper into the settlement.

Eventually they are led to a hollowed out giant tree stump where the missing daughter, Sarah, a young ravenhaired Halfling woman, sat in a garden of tall grass and wildflowers, playing a guitar for a hoard of young goblins. It was a sweet sight to watch for a moment or two. But sooner than later, one of the kits noticed their and their guides’ presences and a whirlwind of chaos erupted.

Sarah stopped strumming, sitting up alarmed as some of the kits raced towards a couple of the goblins who guided them here—their parents, obviously. While others, the ones on the older side stayed and began to swarm Sarah as if they could hide her with their bodies. And that is nothing to say of a matronly Goblin woman bursting out of the stump and rushing to put herself in front of Sarah and the kits as she hissed at the guides and the outsiders.

Maximum watched as Riz lowered his ears in submission to her obvious authority in this place as he began to speak to her slowly in Gukliak. At first, she wasn’t having it; not even some nudging from their guides was enough for her to let them come any closer. But luckily, Sarah was far more willing to humour them.

Slithering out of the pile of kits, she threw her guitar over her shoulder as she walked over to the Goblin matron to put a hand on her shoulder. Telling her that they most likely weren’t here on the Goblin King’s orders. She recognized their clothing; they were from her home plane. Here to rescue her. Sarah smiles at them and tells them that Drezza is just worried about her because she sees her stolen daughter in her, that’s all. She’s happy to talk to them and explain what happened to her.

You see, Sarah Timbersage had been having a really tough time at college, at her dead-end job and at home and… she’d met a guy. Handsome, almost too good-looking for words. Elven, she’d guessed at first, but he’d been light on the details. They’d exchanged letters, back and forth; old fashioned, but she’d liked it. He’d said that she could come live with him, that he’d take care of her, and she’d want for nothing…

As the fifth daughter of eight children, it was an enticing offer. Believable, too, he’d given her a beautiful necklace as if it were nothing. She hadn’t even realized she’d been enthralled until she was deep in the Feywild, within the Castle of the Goblin King. Who, she’d quickly realized, was only going to add her to a collection of “brides” he kept as a testament to his power. Including Drezza’s daughter, Pollina, though Sarah hadn't known that then. Only by pure luck did she manage to escape the fortress and disappear into the forest surrounding it.

Sarah doesn’t know how long she wandered, but one morning, after spending the night hidden in a rotted log, she was found by some of Drezza’s children. The sweet things had realized that she was not only hungry and thirsty, but also the mortal woman the Goblin King had sent scouts to find.

Now, you have to understand. Within the Goblin Court, you’d be hard-pressed to find a soul that actually revered or even liked their King. Hell, they hadn’t particularly liked their last dozen Kings! Might makes Right in the Court of Goblins, so one of the most popular ways for anyone to gain power is to kill a more powerful being than themselves and assume their title.

The worst thing is? It's an arcane issue. It doesn't matter if the courtiers and subjects of the Court despise whoever holds the title of Goblin King, no matter how this so-called King drags their Court’s reputation through the mud unless one of them can defeat him? There's nothing they can do to strip the Court-given powers from him. As much as they hated to admit it, the current Goblin King was very powerful.

And if the smoke signal from the outermost of the village's farms was correct, he was on his way here.

[thunder-wolf64]

Ugh okay I'm about to get very not silly.

Content warning for: Sexual Assult, Body image issues, self harm, probably some depression.

Hmm. I want to talk about this incase I can give strength to anyone else. I know my problems are not as bad as others, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and it's not valid.

Ive mentioned my fear of small children, I've mentioned really not liking a family friend (to a point that being forced to stay in a cabin with them made me feel so bad I dug my nails into my skin and scarred my arm and hand)

This all partly relates to one incident many years ago. I dont remember how old I was? Must have been earlier middle school?

The family friends I'm referring to have a son. He's a lot younger than me. He's neurodivergent in some way, he doesn't have the best idea of social anything.

I was staying at the family friends' cabin, my family and theirs. There was a guest cabin. I had just taken a shower to clean off the lake water. I was standing in the guest cabin looking at myself in the mirror by the beds, brushing my hair. I had major body image issues with good ol' puberty. I hated how I looked and i felt shameful when my shirt clung to my chest extra tight. I knew I would dry off more, and it would be less form fitting. I thought i could just stay in the guest cabin until then.

Then all the little kids, the boy and my two sisters, burst in, chasing each other around as kids do. I was still brushing my hair.

Something immature boys find funny is the word "boobs" he laughed at me and kept repeating the word. I adjusted my shirt as best I could I wanted to tell him off, but I was scared I would get in trouble if I made him upset.

I went back to looking in the mirror and brushing my hair. He ran past, giving my boob a poke as he sprinted out the door, my sisters in tow. That was it. That is what the warning was for. A touch. Over in a second.

I was panicked, I didn't know what to do. I sat on the bed for awhile, crying and thinking of what to do. It felt like forever. And as embarrassing as it is to say... at that time in my mind I felt as if it was my fault, as if I had a sign pointing to me saying "touch me". And with that in mind, I calmed myself down, told myself i wouldn't say anything, and walked back to the main cabin.

And when I walked in, it was tense. The boy was getting a talking to from his mother, and mine walked over to me.

She asked me if i was okay.

I said I was fine, confused. Thinking its not like he shoved me, punched me, hurt my physically. My mind did not corelate the emotional anguish rushing though my head as I felt even more shame that people knew. that they had told on themselves somehow.

I was not okay, i am still not okay. And it really sucks. I can't blame everything on one incident. But oh man can I corelate a lot of my problems with that incident.

Tight clothes made me feel like scum. Ive only ever worn sports bras that leave me with terrible chest pain. I still cant stand a tight fitting shirt, a v-neck. I can't stand my feminine traits. Because that's what got me into the mess in the first place.

Something so small can mess you up so much. And I'm sick of not acknowledging it. Everyone has forgotten or said nothing. And I feel like I'm going crazy.

So if you made it this far, your struggles are valid. Your feelings are valid. No matter what happend, everyone takes things differently.

And i don't know if I'll can call this sexual assault, but it feels like it was, and that's what should matter.

Everyone stay safe