#I actually do have a female killer OC

[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

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[killsaki]

final girl. ☆ surely all the girls being murdered in your town having something that fits your own description is a coincidence… right?

izuku midoriya x female!reader

4k words | part 2 (tbp)

cw/tw : yandere!izu, quirkless/loserboy!izu, stuttering, stalking, drugging, thighfucking, facial, male masturbation, noncon, somnophilia (kinda), alcohol, oc side character, kidnapping, murder (mentions).

“you’re not seriously going out, are you?” comes from your doorway, you turn towards the voice in just enough time to catch sight of your roommate inviting himself into your room, as he always does, before plopping himself down on your mattress.

you sigh before answering, knowing he’s about to spout some of his repetitive nonsense.

“of course i am, fuzen.” he blinks at you with his usual unamused expression, heterochromatic eyebrows slightly raised in a way that you’ve come to learn is a signal for you to ask more about what he’s saying. you take the bait. “but, why do you ask?”

“you’re the target of that serial killer.” you purse your lips at his immediate and dramatic response to stop yourself from laughing, you really shouldn't entertain him all the time. he’s mentioned a few things that could probably cost him his job for disclosing the, in his words, eerie similarities, that you have had with all the victims of recent murders.

it started with things like how they all had your eye color, or that they were all described to have your height and build. you passed those off as generic things, but fuzen didn’t. it spiraled into things as specific as one of them having your hair. well, their hair, but it was the same length as yours, the same color, and her body was found with it styled with the same way that you’d fallen in loved with and wore repeatedly that week. one girl was found with copies of the jewelry that you frequently wore, another even had her nails done almost exactly like your new set.

the longer it went on, the more insistent your roommate became about you listening to what he had to say. but you always changed the subject, figuring that the less you know the easier it’ll be to shake off the cold feeling on your back you sometimes get after leaving the apartment.

“i thought you were a stealth sidekick,” you laugh him off, yet again. ”when did you get demoted to a detective?”

“why does your room feel weird?” he asks suddenly, adjusting his sitting position like he’s been made uncomfortable while he looks around your space. “has someone been in here?”

“uh, yeah, me.” you suck your teeth at him before turning back to your vanity and get back to finishing getting ready.

“why don’t you believe me?” he asks, you can tell he’s a little irritated and it makes you feel bad for always brushing him off.

“‘zen… i know you care about me, i’m sorry.” you meet his gaze in the mirror, finding him already looking back at you. “maybe you’re just overthinking because you care about me?”

he nods slowly, before cracking a grin and shaking his head, “nah, i’m probably just jealous because i don’t have a stalker.” he rolls his neck and you wonder how much truth is in his words. “though i’d probably prefer it without the murder.”

“i don’t have a stalker.” you retort while he chuckles to himself before standing.

“you know,” he stretches his arms, fingertips touching the ceiling as the hem of his shirt lifts to reveal his toned stomach, something you quickly look away from. “that habit of immediately denying stuff that you’re anxious about is gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

his mouth is good at keeping you from being attracted to the rest of him.

“but not today,” you speak matter of fact, “because i do not have a stalker.”

“right, yeah.” he sniggers, clearly not believing a word from you. “didn’t you say you felt like you were being followed home the other night? you should think harder on the description—”

“anyways!” you cut him off, knowing that he’s not going to stop talking unless you make him. sometimes you’re not sure if he actually likes having conversations with you or just the sound of his own voice. “shouldn’t you get back to tying some red thread between the pictures and articles hung up on your wall mr. detective.”

“fuck off.” he flips you off from where he’s now lurking by your dresser, leaning against it as he’s focused on checking his phone. “i know you think i’m joking, but they put me on the west end so i’ll be patrolling over by the party if you–”

“oh! my rides here,” you lie, jumping up to slip past him and out of the conversation. “so, i’ll text you when i make it back home since you’ll be on patrol and i won’t see you again tonight, right?”

“wait!” he calls after you, annoyed by your sudden escape, as you slip on your shoes. “text me if something happens with your ride and i’ll walk you back!”

“bye, fuzen!” you yell back, walking out the door. “love you!”

/// /// ///

maybe… fuzen wasn’t just talking to hear his voice. maybe, there’s a small possibility that you do have a stalker.

you could chalk it all up to your roommate giving you anxiety about the whole situation, or that you’ve had a few too many already. but you can’t deny the fact that from the moment you stepped out of your apartment building until you climbed into your ride’s car, you felt something watching you.

it was a hot gaze, a familiar one. it could’ve been a neighbor, you reasoned to yourself as you waited for kirishima to arrive, and that theory sounded best as you repeated it to yourself at the party, laughing with him and his friends and downing drink after drink. until the chill on the back of your neck reappeared, despite how warm your blood is from the alchol. and no matter how much you looked over your shoulder to try and find some kind of source for it, there just wasn’t anyone there.

“you good?” sero asks when you fail to reply to your name being called.

“huh?” you turn to him to find the whole group looking at you with concern, your face flushes at how ridiculous you must look, being so skittish. “oh, i’m fine,” you force a laugh, hoping it seems genuine. “think i just had a little bit too much.”

“no sweat.” kirishima nods towards the glass door behind him and you try to ignore how sero and denki exchange glances. “let’s go get some air.”

“yeah, okay.” you hope the earth swallows you whole as you follow behind him.

you regret coming, regret not shutting your door while getting ready, regret letting fuzen talk his mouth off at you for so long about it. you’ll chew him out about it tomorrow.

you take a deep breath as you walk out the glass door, kirishima’s large palm rubbing soothingly on your back helps settle the nerves. there’s a comforting warmth that takes over the anxious heat as you lean into him.

“sorry i’m being weird.” you mumble as he guides you into his chest, melting into him and the sound of his steady heart beat.

“you’re fine,” you feel the arm holding his cup raise, the pause between his words meaning his downing the rest of his drink that smells way too strong. “don’t worry about it.”

the two of you sway for a bit, his arms around you and your head on his chest with the muffled music as ambiance.

it could be blamed on the alcohol but in this moment, you’re thankful you have kirishima. thankful for how it took absolutely no time at all for you to get comfortable with him, how it felt like an instant connection when he silently prompted the two of you to play tictactoe in the margine of your notes. something that quickly snowballed from passing messages to walking you back to your dorm, and then hang outs as his frat house.

he’s always offered himself as a stress relief for you, making sure you’re comfortable while you’re with him and pressing you about it any time that you seemed tense. there’s been a few awkward moments where you thought he’d tried making a pass at you but he’s always been quick to clarify. plus he’s so warm, like… really warm. his arms feel like a blanket around you. god, how is someone so big and bulky also so soft? you could probably fall asleep like this, surrounded by him.

“hey.” you’re pulled from your thoughts, and from where you were tucked into him. “you knocking out on me?”

“sorry.” you giggle, at his ever playful expression. “you’re just so comfortable.”

the smirk on his face is a harmless one, you think. and it’s awfully pretty.

“bakugou needs me at the beer pong table.”

“i don’t need you, fucker.” you hear the blonde shout from where he stands at the door. did he yell at him before too? “they just don’t want me to embarrass them by beating their asses by myself.”

kirishima laughs. ”you stayin’ out here?” you hesitate, but nod. you feel better, but the thought of facing his friends again so fast is a little too intimidating. “i wont let anyone come out here and fuck with you.” he squeezes your hip before chasing his friend inside. “come watch me when you’re ready!” the redhead calls to you from where he now hangs out the door, his toothy grin clear as day even from this distance.

you only wave back, your dizziness telling you it’s not a good idea to raise your voice right now.

you let yourself stumble back against the wall before pulling your phone out. you try three times to call fuzen and it immediately cancels before you realize you have no service where you’re standing. you curse under your breath as you push off the bricks and force your legs to carry you around the corner of the house. finally a full bar of service, you have to focus on the blurry phone icon while your thumb finds its way there.

why is everything so hard?

you manage to fumble your phone before you’re able to start the call. it feels like there’s a brick in your skull with how heavy your head becomes as you bend over to reach for the device. just as your finger tips touch your screen, there’s big, rough ones which grab at your hips. you don’t have time to scream before your arm is wound behind your back and used to press you against the brick of the house. you lose any hope of grabbing your phone and yelp as your chest and cheek sting at the harsh contact. your vision spins as you blink in the dim light, you can’t even make out the shape of the person behind you.

”don’t scream.” the stranger speaks in your ear, though slightly muffled, it still makes you freeze all the same. the adrenaline delays the recognition of the cold blade at your back, a knife. how were those girls killed again? you immediately nod, further scraping yours skin against the jagged edges of the brick. fear courses through your veins as he takes hold of your free arm and brings it back with the other, wrapping a large hand around both to keep them in place.

you try to plead with him when his knife moves from your back, the threat of it gone, or maybe all the alcohol making you bold enough to speak.

“i haven’t seen your face.” you whisper, hoping it was low enough for him to allow it. “you don’t have to kill me, you could just let me go.”

“let you go?” he asks, surely it’s your intoxicated mind, but he sounds genuinely confused, almost hurt by your words. “i can’t,” he mutters and you whine as your heart hammers in your chest. “i f-finally have you.” you hear the man sigh behind you before he presses his face into your neck, you can hear the echo in whatever metal he has wrapped over his face as he inhales deep against your skin and your body instantly reacts with chills shooting up your spine. “you smell so good.” he begins to pant as his free hand gropes at your body. “so m-much better than any of them did.”

“please… don’t,” you beg when he reaches your breast, where he squeezes it just enough to hurt before clumsily rubbing his fingers over your nipples through the cloth.

“but i knew you would.” he continues as if you didn’t speak, as if your words don’t matter. “you’re the b-best, the only good one, only you.”

his hand drags from your chest down to your waist where he starts to struggle with your bottoms. and your eyes begin to feel with tears at the inevitable.

“please just let me go.” you try again, hoping for just an ounce of pity. “i really won’t tell anyone.”

“i’m sorry.” his body pressed up against you, shoving you farther into the hard wall, ”i’m sorry, angel,” you finally realize just how much bigger the man is than you. “im just–i can’t stop. i need you.” his grip on your arms disappears as he opts to use his large stature to keep you pinned, with both of his hands to work your bottoms down to your knees before he’s humping against your ass. “i wanted to wait– wanted our first to be special.”

the deadweight feeling at the back of your mind aches to takeover, the dizziness, the fear, the effor it takes for you to just breathe right now it far too much, so you succumb to it all– making you completely helpless. all you can do is stand there and hope he’ll let you go once he’s had his fill. not that it’s easy, there’s bile churning in your stomach when you hear the click of his belt, feel the shuffle of him tugging his own pants down.

you have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from crying when you feel the heat of what has to be his cock prodding between your thighs. the only thing keeping any distance between its heat and your most vulnerable parts is the underwear holding the last bit of your dignity together. but once he wraps his arms around you—which squeeze you so tight you think you’ll burst— and he angles you so your hips stick back enough for him to rub between your thighs while pressing up against your cunt, you’re sure you’ll throw up regardless.

he, however, groans at the contact. “s-so warm.” you can hear him begin to pant as his hips start rhythmically pressing into yours, the force alone enough to jolt your body against the wall. “f-feel so good.” you can taste blood as you hold back your sobs. it feels like an eternity passes, each groan and inhale against your nape makes you more nauseous until your body has had enough.

being pushed too far from the fear, the drinks, and the pain, it causes you to collapse on yourself. everything seems like it fades as you fall slack in the stranger's arms. maybe if you die while unconscious, it’ll be okay. at least you won’t feel the pain.

sounds come in and out like you have bad radio service, your eyes too heavy and body too weak to get a good sense of what’s happening, but you hear—

“t-this? my girlfriend drank too much s-so i’m j-just—“ comes from somewhere around you, somewhere close.

“awww!” you hear, whiney and dragged out from some girl who definitely had more than you tonight. “you’re such a good boyfriend for babysitting.” your heart aches when you try to fight, to move, to scream and you’re far from successful.

“i wish my boyfriend let me drink that much.” if you could just tell one person what’s happening, if you could just show even a little bit of struggle, someone could save you. “you’re even carrying her! so cute!” if someone could just see your face, maybe they’d see that this is not who you arrived with, someone could tell kirishima. “you guys get home safe~!”

you feel like a boulder is set on your chest, the weight of your failure weight bearing on you when everything’s quiet again.

/// /// ///

you don’t know how much time passes before you’re able to bring yourself out of your useless state until you’re finally able to blink your eyes open and take in your surroundings. it’s all blurry at first, but the furniture in your line of sight slowly starts to resemble that of the setup you have in your room. there’s your vanity, your nightstand, this is your comforter, a weak smile works its way onto your lips.

you could cry from the relief. whatever happened, whether it was all a dream or something you won’t be able to remember, you don’t care. you’re home.

you toss your head back into your pillow, taking in a deep breath, catching the smell of what's likely your own sweat before you try to stretch your arms out, the needles stabbing into your hands making you feel the need to shake them to fix your blood flow. but they don’t budge, and the sound of metal clanking makes you shoot your eyes open and then you feel it.

your grogginess to blame for you not being able to the cuffs that encase them before. nor the sinking weight that kneels beside you, a large figure looming over you looking that much more daunting with the light behind him illuminating only his towering figure as he hunches over you, huffing and whining with his cock only inches from your face.

your lips tremble when the false sense of safety washed away and you look up past the movement of his hand, slowly taking in the dark green mess of hair that falls around his face, the chunky metallic mask that causes each of his heavy breaths to be echoed before you meet his eyes, the wide, terrifying green gaze that burns back at you makes you wish you were still unconscious.

“o-oh.” he’s so loud as he shoots out his load across your face and the bare parts of your chest, thick and hot where it lands. you cringe as your name is chanted off his lips and you squeeze your eyes and mouth closed, not wanting to let yourself be any more violated than you already feel. your head pounds as you feel the urge to cry, but you can’t seem to force yourself to.

“i didn’t—i didn’t finish earlier,” you hear him mutter above you, “and it hurt—looking at you,” a hand smoothes along your hairline, making you jump at the contact, and he retracts. “s-sorry… you’re just… so pretty.”

“can i…” he starts and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to answer if he actually asks you a question. “can i take a picture? it’ll only be for me, i promise.”

“please…” your voice is weak and you have to try and gather some spit to swallow to allow yourself any more volume. “don’t…” your request is sure to be ignored, he’s seemed to do whatever else he’s liked.

“you’re r-right,” you feel the mattress rise once he disappears from beside you, “another time.”

you try to test your voice again, you’re not sure how long it’s been since what you can last remember, but if fuzen wasn’t on patrol, he’d be in bed. if only you could scream.

“i’ll clean you up, is that o-okay?” you don’t reply, only tense when the warm cloth wipes at your skin. “sorry, again. i feel like such a pervert.”

you open your eyes again once they’re clean, and staring at your curtains, you try to think. you can’t even speak, can’t move, can’t fight. how long are you going to be so helpless?

“are you okay? i know i probably scared you…” you wish you could scoff. “could you at least look at me?”

you don’t move to face him, not wanting to look into those horrifying eyes again. just the thought of him, next to you now, staring at you with them makes you shudder with fear.

“look at me.” he grips your jaw, reminding you how big his hands are as he forces you to turn towards him. you avoid meeting his gaze. not wanting to know if it’s just as piercing as before, instead, you take in the green mess of curls, how they stick about and fall into his face. you can see him staring at you, but still, skip over making eye contact and make out the freckles at peek out from behind the metallic mask that seems to be slipping, making you close your eyes again.

if there was any small chance of you getting out of here alive, there’s no way you can see his face.

“hey–”

“your mask,” you whisper, and his grip loosens as soon as you speak.

“oh,” he mumbles back. you can hear what you guess is him toying with it, but you realize as you peek up, was him removing it. “guess i don’t need this.”

with his face fully revealed, you can feel yourself sinking into acceptance of your fate.

“you’re staring…” you can visibly see him swallow, his eyes darting between yours and the floor. “am i attractive?” a soft smile grows on his lips at him complimenting himself as if you’d really said it. “i’m happy you think so.”

“i have a roommate,” you speak, voice cracking.

“what?” his eyebrows drawn together, face set in a scowl before he pushes himself from your bed. “you need some water.”

“he’s a hero.” you try again, even as he walks away and you’re sure you’re out of earshot. “a strong one, and he’ll be home soon.” you pick your head up to watch him throw the door open, and all of your hope for your roommate saving you drains as you stare down a hallway that doesn’t belong in your apartment; you’re not home…

if you saw any typos, no you didn’t !!<;33

reblogs + asks + feedback appreciated !

[xxavengingangelxx]

Graves Defragged 2/?

Part two, y'all! Prepare to have your mind blown. Mine was. That is all :) Also keep in mind that this is how I see Graves based on my psych and criminology degree. You all might see and likely see him differently and that's okay! I'm guessing here. I'm not sure if what I'm speculating about Graves is correct.

Here we go! Not proofread :( I'm really, really tired tonight. Triggers for mentions of non-con and torture.

Item 11: Promiscuous sexual behavior = 1

C’mon, Graves is full of himself and narcissistic. He can have anyone he wants. I am hesitant to even give this a 1 given we have no idea what his sex life is like but I’m familiar with men who have similar personalities and they definitely bed whoever they want. Now, I happen to write Graves as heterosexual because that’s just how my mind created him (a lot of the story in Long Way from Home and Somewhere Only We Know were taken from some old stories I wrote where Warren Kole played a sheriff who was also a serial killer). But I sure as hell love reading him in all types of relationships!! 😉

Look at that man and tell me he and his men don’t get around they can’t get who they want. Sexy af.

Image credit: Call of Duty Wiki

There is a good (but dark) fic written on Ao3 that involves Graves non-conning a female citizen who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Given the picture I have of Graves in my mind (he’s a monster!) I wouldn’t put it past him. But that's my point of view. Remember my version of Graves is dark, hence the warnings on my darker fics!

And KEEP…IN…MIND…his Shadows or most of his Shadows have no issues with war crimes. There’s NO TELLING what his Shadows did to female citizens in the homes they invaded. ☹ They’re nameless and faceless which is part of what makes them so terrifying (they’re also huge, okay? Maybe in more ways than one).

Item 12: Early behavior problems = 1

This is another tough one. We don’t really know anything about his childhood. But based on what we have seen with Graves I wouldn’t doubt he at least had issues managing his anger when he was a child/teen. His lack of morality might suggest that it’s something he’s had his whole life. A lack of fear, common in psychopaths, can also lead to early behavior problems because a psychopath’s limbic system is malfunctioning. It’s not built right. This in turn causes a lot of psychopaths to have no fear. No fear or acknowledgement of danger and certainly no fear of punishments.

This is similar to what we talked about above in the sections about lack of remorse and empathy. It’s NOT that Graves feels fear and ignores it. He cannot feel fear. His brain is not wired for it.

So let’s say you’re captive with Graves. Swinging at him doesn’t work, threatening doesn’t work, and actually hitting him only gets him to hit you back hard enough for you to at least lose partial consiousness or balance. If Graves is not afraid of you, not afraid of the repercusions of taking you, what the hell can you do to at least somewhat control his behavior so he at least shows more stable mood and hurts you less?

Positive reinforcement. Rewards. Psychopaths respond to rewards. Positive reinforcement means adding a desired stimulus. OC figured this out in one of my longer fics (although subconsciously) and gave  in to sleeping with Graves. As OC became more and more compliant, Graves’s behavior became less unpredictable and less violent. If she were to act out again in the future, however, he wouldn't hesitate to at least smack OC maybe even in front of their son.

Positive reinforcement, guys and gals! Give Graves little tidbits of obedience and information. You’ll be playing him and he won’t even know it. But Graves is hella good at figuring out hidden agendas/intentions. So when he does (no, not if, when) find out, he’s gonna hurt you.

Negative reinforcement is the removal of an undesirable stimulus. This works with psychopaths but not in the way positive reinforcement does. So you can stop hitting him and calling him names but it won’t work as good as you providing Graves with positive reinforcement.

Remember Graves responds to money! That is a positive reinforcer.

Item 13: Lack of realistic, long-term goals = 0

Here we have another one that does not apply to Graves. Graves shed his Marine skin with a goal in mind. It might have sounded unrealistic but Graves pulled it off. He’s a billionaire with a PMC staffed with some of the most dangerous men on Earth.

Item 14: Impulsivity = 0

We touched in this earlier when we talked about behavior controls. Graves is meticulous, thorough, detailed, and precise. The big decisions are made with painstaking order/detail. We have talked about (and we can see) that Graves might have issues controlling his actions when he is angry. Piss him off enough and he’ll smack you (Whether you are male or female! Remember he was almost giddy when he was about to torture Valeria, a woman), I can almost guarantee it. At the very least. Piss him off enough enough and he’ll put you on the floor. Piss him off beyond that, you might have to spend a few nights in a hospital.

But Graves is certainly not impulsive when it comes to big decisions. He didn’t get to be a billionaire in charge of his own PMC with contracts left and right by making a habit of being impulsive with important decisions.

Item 15: Irresponsbility = 0

At least in my eyes! You don’t get to be where Graves is, as successful as he is being irresponsible. A business as successful as his is not one built on impulsivity nor irresponsibility.

In relation to this, I’m willing to be a whole paycheck of mine that Graves vets his men better than the FBI.

Image credit: Call of Duty Wiki

These men are so loyal they died for Graves without so much as a second thought while in Las Almas. Remember that I also touched on the fact that their loyalty for Graves goes past humanity and morality. I tried to illustrate this in a fic where Graves’s men have no issue torturing a female POW.

Look at that they did in Las Almas! They murdered citizens to include women and children. And like I mentioned before, there’s no telling what those men did when they invaded those homes before they killed their victims.

Graves didn’t like the limitations of the Marines. So why would he pick men with those moral limitations? Answer is he wouldn’t. He’d pick men who would do whatever he ordered them to do to whomever he wanted it done to. The only way I could see Graves maybe having some men with some morality is for SAR or search and rescue missions. He certainly does not want his ethically untoward men rescuing someone only to victmize said rescue subject on the ride back to the US.

Yikes.

Item 16: Failure to accept responsibility for own actions = 2

Graves is a pro at this, ain’t he? Remember the missle crisis he was indirectly responsible for? Instead of admitting it a whole clusterfuck of consequences cascaded because Graves and Shepherd tried to cover up what they’d done wrong.

Remember Congress? When Graves said he did not put 141 in danger? But you did, Graves (don’t tell him that…he might try to swing at you)! Your men shot first. Now, yes, Alejandro lunged at Graves. But nonlethal force should be met with nonlethal force. Graves’s men are loyal to a fault. When someone so much as steps too close to their commander, they shoot to kill.

And of course Las Almas! Those were hardcore war crimes being committed. And like I’ve mentioned before, I wouldn’t doubt that Graves’s men took a few liberties with individuals they found attractive in the homes they invaded. Not everyone might see it like that but remember the actions in Las Almas were meant to intimidate.

Image credit: Dan Allen Gaming on YouTube

And in some of the fics I’ve written where Graves victimizes OC, Graves blames OC for the torture she suffered, telling her that if she had just given him what he wanted to begin with (homing beacon codes to find 141) she wouldn’t have suffered at all. That’d she’d have no scars on her body and no mental trauma from what was done to her. He ordered his men to carry all that out and he watched it happen but OC, the victim, is responsible. According to Graves.

I think a lot of people really underestimate how dangerous and cruel Graves’s men can be. And yet, we Graves/Shadow Company fans have a certain affection for them 😉 Because to be honest, with all the shady stuff they do, who knows how many times they’ve saved the world. All without getting thanked for it.

Image credit: Shadow Siege Limited on Blizzard Entertainment

Item 17: Many short-term marital relationships = 0

We have no proof Graves has ever been married. It would be somewhat reasonable to conclude that Graves could be involved with quite a few sexual partners. But for marriage…we have absolutely no idea!

Item 18: Juvenile delinquency = 0

And let me tell you why. Graves was in the Marines and some positions in the Marines require a top secret security clearance. Graves’s involvement in military contracts certainly requires a top secret clearance and perhaps maybe a SCIF clearance. You cannot have any significant juvenile delinquency and be trusted with one of these.

Item 19: Revocation of conditional release = 0

None. He hasn’t been arrested (see above for my reasoning for no juvenile arrests). And if he was, I’d be willing to bet some highups in the military, CIA, and NSA would make his charges disappear.

Item 20: Criminal versitality = 2

Oh boy, if there was one item that described Graves it would be this one! This refers to the variety of criminal activity Graves is involved in. Well, we know he’s involved in some shady contracts that involve taking lives. He’s a mercenary after all. Technically, what Graves is doing, killing people for money, is illegal. Essentially invading another country and wiping a town off the map is highly illegal. Shooting to kill at 141/SAS is illegal! So not only is he involved in several types of crime but he is involved in crimes across countries, across the world.

With the money he makes, he hires nameless, faceless men with no moral compass who will then do whatever twisted deeds he tells them to and more. He also buys weapons intended to take lives for money, which is, of course, illegal.

Phew! So what does Graves score on the Psychopath Checklist?

A mere 20! The requirement for psychopathy in the US is 30 and in the UK 25.

According to Canadian psychologist Robert Hare’s research (and he’s done a lot) Graves does not quite rise to the level of psychopath. However, remember that we have very limited information. We essentially have no information about Graves’s childhood or early adulthood other than he enlisted in the Marines. With more information, his score could have gone up, remained the same, but it would not have gone down.

You’re probably like: ummmm…WTF?

And I’m with you! :D I fully expected for him to at least meet the cutoff! These posts I make are discoveries I’m making with you. I had no idea he would score so low!

Is Graves a questionable human being? You bet! Would you jump for joy if he showed interest in you (we all would haha)? But for real, he’s dangerous, he’s callous, and he can be really cruel. Just because he does not rise to the level of psychopathy does not mean he lacks remorse or lacks empathy. Those are still very real things that are part of who Graves is. This applies also to his lack of fear and his responsiveness to positive reinforcement.

Graves’s brain might look a little something like this:

Image credit: Quora (functional MRI or fMRI that takes images as the brain is working and seeing what lights up)

There is a lack of activity in the prefrontal cortex but that activity is not totally absent. Graves might let his emotions get the better of him when he’s one-on-one but overall he’s not impulsive. I'd expect to see a little more activity in his PFC actually. You’ll also see a lack of activity in a part of the brain called the amygdala. That is part of the limbic system, a more primal part of the brain. The amygdala processes negative emotions, which explains while men like Graves do not fear punishment or danger. He will, however, respond to positive reinforcement which increase endorphins, dopamine, and other feel-good neurotransmitters.

You can also see it below! There is high activity in the frontal lobe of the control as well as reasonably high activity in the limbic system. Jim's brain shows a lack of PFC activity as well as a lack of activity deeper in the brain in the limbic system.

Image credit: Rice University, Inside the Brains of Psychopaths

ONE FINAL BUT VERY IMPORTANT NOTE:

Psychopathy DOES NOT equal psychotic. They don’t mean close to the same thing. Psychopathy is mainly dictated by a lack of remorse, empathy, and fear. Psychotic means someone who is out of touch with reality. Think hallucinations, delusions, and so on. Psychotic people do not make good criminals. They’re sloppy and tend to get caught fairly quickly. A psychopath is super in touch with reality! The pick up on details and cues we do not. They do not feel fear and don’t care who they hurt, allowing them to move on with their lives. So if someone says: Graves is psychotic! You can say: ah-ah! Psychopathic :D

Y'all I'm very tired lol I hope you enjoyed. I FUCKIN LOVE talking about this stuff and I can talk about it forever! I can post soooo much more on Graves if y'all are interested :)

[cvpidsfablez]

╰┈➤Male! Danganronpa x s/o reader PT2

NOTE: I've been spending more time playing DV3 so I'll probably do more characters from there. I might also start another one of these but with female characters

WARNINGS: Spoilers for character deaths, ect.

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✰Shuichi Saihara:

•Definitely noticed you first

•Was too shy to actually talk to you

•Kaede had to force him to talk to you

•Was prolly very awkward when interacting with you at first

•Eventually worked up the courage to ask you out but you beat him to it

•Doesn't mind PDA, just gets really flustered

•Doesn't get jealous easily nor is he necessarily clingy, but if you don't pay attention to him and spend more time with someone else then he'll get a tad bit jealous and will do anything to gain your attention

•Listens to you everytime you rant, even if it's something random

•Remembers your birthday and likes/dislikes

•Still somewhat quiet but talks way more than he usually does

•If you want to be a blackened or victim/your OC is a blackened or victim: he would ANYTHING to prove your innocence and would break down after your execution (if blackened), if victim, he would look at your motionless body and not say a word, would do anything to find your killer

✰Keebo/K1-B0:

•You noticed him and were very curious about him

•Prolly accidentally mistook one of your comments on him as robophobic

•Realized he felt a unusual way towards you when you defended him again Kokichi

•Because he doesn't necessarily understand the feeling of love, you had to be the one to initiate things

•Flustered easily

•Is fine with PDA

•Prolly loves when you hold his hand

•Gets jealous only when you're with Kokichi because of his obvious dislike towards him

•Remembers your birthday and likes/dislikes

•Listens to whatever you have to say

•If you want to be a blackened or victim/your OC is a blackened or victim: Couldn't believe it at first, wanted to be alone after your execution (if blackened), when he saw your body he couldn't even look at it, he refused to investigate near your body (if victim)

NOTE: I unfortunately only had the energy to write two characters this time because I wrote this at five in the morning and I am tired. I will try and write more characters next time

[ephedrathirsts]

Treehouses and Car Seats

Synopsis: Childhood best friends reunite. Cigarettes, pot and unaddressed mutual pining- would could possible go wrong?

Contains: friends to lovers trope, smut, handjobs, sub!Hunter x dom! OC, praise kink, weed and cigarette use, fluff at the end, anxious Hunter

Pairing: Hunter Sylvester x Female OC!

Word Count: 3900

It was about a week after the battle of the bands- a glorious moment in time for Skullflower. Thanks to their stellar performance and Hunter's accident they transformed into micro-celebrities, the talk of the town. People were lining up to talk to Emily, Kevin, and Hunter, asking for autographs, acting like they were always friendly with the metalists, as if the entire school wasn't treating them like a bunch of nobodies a minute ago.

They had a lot of attention thrown their way, especially from the female side of the students, and mostly directed at the vocalist and only bachelor of the group, Hunter himself. So it came as little to no surprise when he got stopped in the hallways, getting offers from girls to sign his cast. He was flattered by the newfound popularity even though he knew it wasn't going to be long-lasting, but a good time was a good time right?

One day, just before first bell an unfamiliar face showed up at Hunter's locker while he was talking to Kevin. "No, I'm telling you, ever since the psych ward I'm a changed man- no outbursts, no-nonsense." Hunter was waving his hands around theatrically, slouching, back against the locker door.

"I will believe this once you actually start seeing a therapist. It wouldn't do you any harm, ya know." Kevin replied with a friendly smile and patted him on the shoulder.

"I don't think a shrink that isn't into metal would get my passion. It would be a hard time finding one on the same wavelength as me..." He started before getting cut off by a person that seemingly appeared out of thin air.

"Killer performance in the battle of the bands. It definitely made picking a new school all the easier! Mind if I sign your cast?" Animatedly uttered a girl that looked vaguely familiar while holding up a sharpie and pointing at Hunter's leg with it, asking for permission.

"Thanks... sure, go ahead." He replied distractedly, looking at her with a quizzical expression. She had wild, long hair, frizzy, sticking in many different directions. She was wearing a lot of rings and dangly necklaces, one of which he could have sworn he had seen before. She had a nose piercing and a very striking tattoo of a feather on her collarbone."Do I know you from somewhere?" He asked a bit rushedly, trying to process what he was seeing.

The girl bent down and quickly scribbled something on his leg. "Is that supposed to be a pick-up line, Hunter? Come on, you can do better!" She answered while standing up and straightening out her skirt. "We are classmates after all!" She playfully retorted, winked at him, and disappeared into the crowded hallway.

"What does it say? I can't bend down to look." Hunter looked at his friend for help.

"It's very weird... It says 'i know you were doing it just to look cool' and a kiss emoji thingy... wait... No way! There is absolutely no way!" Kevin paced around in a little circle, massaging his chin, his eyes moving as fast as his thoughts when the puzzle pieces finally came together.

"She looked familiar, didn't she?" Kevin whisper-shouted at Hunter while moving his eyesight from left to right and backward.

"Yeah? So what? She obviously goes to school here. I've seen her around, that's that." Hunter chirped a bit annoyed at his friend, picking at his cuticles to soothe the new bundle of nerves.

"Dude... choosing a new school..." Kevin supplied slowly, moving his eyebrows in a playful motion.

"Yeah..?" Hunter asked, still visibly confused by his friend's display.

"Summer camp... year eight... the treehouse..." Kevin teased, wanting to give a hint instead of spelling out what was already obvious.

"No way...! It can't be... Raven? Is that Raven?" Hunter screamed in shock, bumping his head on the locker door as he did a little jump in place. "Fuck, ouch!" He squeaked through gritted teeth.

The bell rang, making the boys put an end to the conversation, both of them going in opposite directions. Until Hunter screamed again "Corn-pickle!"

A golden rule upheld through the years- one does not evoke corn-pickle unless in great danger, confusion or inner turmoil. It was the safe word, the friends' version of an SOS, and it was reserved for emergencies only.

"You called Emily?" Hunter spat out, irritation written on his face.

"She is my girlfriend, a band mate, and also your friend, even though you like to deny it. She deserves to be here for a corn-pickle situation as much as I do!" Kevin defended while lacing his fingers with Emily's. She gave him a loving look in return.

''Plus getting my perspective would be of help. You, as much as i love and appreciate both of you, are clueless doofuses. You need another point of view. Especially when it comes to something as serious as Hunter's first love returning!" Emily explained in a brisk and knowing manner.

Hunter's face fell, disapproval radiating from him. He fidgeted with his hands and nervously pushed his hair backward. "What?! First love? What do you mean? It's just... It's just... Raven..." He was out of breath, flushed red with both embarrassment and anger.

"Hunter, please, don't lie to yourself. You were head over hills for her. Just because you don't feel comfortable expressing other emotions than your anger doesn't mean I didn't catch you sobbing into your pillow the day she moved" Kevin whispered reassuringly, placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, and gave him a sympathetic look. Hunter quickly shook it off and started drumming on the sinks' countertop with his fingers.

"You weren't supposed to say this out loud, ever! It was a million years ago anyway... It doesn't matter anymore!" The long-haired boy was pouting like a child, avoiding all eye contact and focusing on the tile floor instead.

"Then it wouldn't be a problem for you to... I don't know... Maybe talk to her. She is here after all. It would be just two old friends catching up." Emily suggested

"Look guys, corn-pickle was a fluke, ok. I'm sorry, everything is fine, I'm alright. Plus standing in a triangle formation talking about life in the men's restroom is stressing me out!" Hunter pleaded to be spared from all of the questioning and smug looks.

"See, I told you this is a bad place to hold an intervention." Emily pointed her finger at Kevin's chest.

"Intervention~"

"It's in the name, alright? 'Rest- room'. He was supposed to be... calmer in here." Kevin struck back.

"How does that make any sense?"

"You don't know the intricacies of a corn-pickle situation!"

"This is my first corn-pickle situation!"

The couple screamed at each other, giving Hunter the perfect excuse to run out of the room... Or more so steadily jump out, supporting himself with his crutches.

"Se ya later, losers" he waved at them with a shit-eating grin while they were still arguing heatedly and screaming, too distracted to notice him go.

"And that's why we should have done this at the cafeteria or the football field, but no! It had to be the smelly restroom. Three people used the urinals as we were speaking! Three people..!" Emily stopped, seeing her boyfriend's puzzled grimace.

"What? I'm sorry, are you mad at me? What happened? She asked hushdly, a bit more aware of her previous tone.

"He is gone... he just dipped..."

Hunter was close to furious. He couldn't bare being around people anymore, so naturally, he headed for the parking lot. Driving around with the windows down would help him clear his head, returning to a semi-peaceful place. While he we digging in his pockets, desperately searching for his car keys, he noticed a figure pressed up against the brick wall through his peripheral vision.

He turned around and saw her, listening to music on her headphones, one foot planted on the wall, the other on the ground, with a cigarette between her lips. "Of course It's you" he mumbled to himself, looking around nervously. It didn't seem like she had seen him. There was still time to hide but he decided against it and marched up to her.

Hunter tapped her shoulder so she removes her headphones and pressed his back next to hers. "Are you doing it just to look cool, you little hypocrite!" He coed with an inviting smile.

"I learned from the coolest. Do you want a drag?" She held up the cigarette to him in proposition.

"Yeah... Of course..." He took it from her, grazing her fingers lightly, and put the cancer stick up to his lips, inhaling slowly, dragging smoke out of his mouth...

...And then he started coughing profusely. The girl couldn't contain her laughter. "Still a poser, huh? You should have just said no. This is fine tobacco, you know! My uncle grinded it himself!" She explained accusatorially.

Hunter scratched the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. "Oh, wow, really? I'm sorry... I just.. I don't know what came over me..."

To the boy's dismay, Raven began giggling to herself yet again. She was shaking and gagging with laughter. All of a sudden Hunter became more alert and entered first stage of panic mode. She punched his shoulder in a teasing manner and took another drag, exhaling the smoke in his face. "I'm messing with you. These babies are store-bought. And you are a singer anyway- I don't want you messing up that beautiful voice of yours."

He felt more at ease now... maybe enough to do something stupid."How did you know about me singing? About the battle of the bands? "

Raven got lost in thought for a moment, trying to get all of the right words out. She knew about Skullflower (previously named Skullfucker) for some time now. She had seen a Facebook page of the group on one of her many Hunter Sylvester online deep dives. But she needed to keep it cool, calm, and collected, so she did:

"I remember this scrawny little boy from a couple of years ago. He had a terrible fringe and he used to lash out at people. He lived on Gatorade and Sour Patch Kids, but he always saved me the red ones. He used to go on and on about making music, about his idols, about metal! He barely paid attention to anything else..." Raven's cheeks became rosier all the more as she revealed her obsession with him. That wasn't her idea of 'cool, calm, and collected' at all, but there was no stopping now.

"...Then one day I was looking through high schools in the area with my parents and I saw this video, the name of this kid written on top. He wasn't a kid anymore, and he definitely wasn't scrawny. He looked like a real rockstar! So I decided this is definitely the school I wanted to attend.. " She felt exposed but continued nonetheless.

"...Until i met him in person and saw he was kind of a poser... Never meet your heroes, I guess." Her shoulders fell down. She put out her cigarette and gave him a cocky smirk.

Hunter was flabbergasted. His heart was beating out of his chest, his palms sweaty and his vision blurry. Raven came there for HIM. She was talking with such passion about HIM. If he weren't none the wiser he would have kissed her right then and there.

"Is this your first day in this shit hole?" He asked instead

"Yeah, it is. Why?" Raven looked a tad confused at his excited expression.

"Wanna skip class?" He suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Fuck, shit, I thought you'd never ask!"

Change of plans- no solitary ride, it's a joined ride now, with Raven getting cozy in the passenger seat, lighting cigarette after cigarette and dusting them off out the window. The wind was playing with her hair, humming in tune with her. She was lazily observing the city she once used to call home. She looked like a cat- playful, blissful, and relaxed.

A new song started playing. Hunter reached out to change it and she grabbed his hand in response. "Please don't, I really like this one." She asked softly.

He obeyed, trying hard not to think of her skin touching his. She had taken off her shoes and put her feet up on the front bar of the car, her skirt rising up to reveal more of her thighs. Hunter was finding it particularly hard not to gauge, but he tried his best. They drove together through narrow, hole-filled roads, leading to the woods and put the car in park.

"Do you want to have the best nap of your life?" Raven asked and reached for her bag, fishing something out of it

"What? What do you.." then he saw it, a blunt rolled up in brown, musky paper.

"It's ok if you don't want to, I know this isn't everyone's idea of a good time. But you seemed tense today. I think you need a bit of a break." She explained caringly.

Come to think of it, it wasn't an unreasonable idea. He was amazed by her noting his nervous ticks like he was good at hiding them. He sifted the thought in his mind- laying back on the car seat, next to Raven, touching her fingers in-between puffs, smelling her shampoo, drifting off next to her... It sounded exquisite!

He was ready for a lazy, calm noon with his old hide-and-seek partner. "Sure, what the hell?!" Hunter smiled expectantly.

"That's my boy!" Raven caressed his chin as declaring.

Hunter felt himself lose vision for a minute.

The air was thick with rain, the smell of pine trees and cones. There was the occasional sound of a bird chirping or a squirrel climbing up a tree. The sun had hidden behind a curtain of cottony clouds. It was peaceful, as if time had stopped.

Hunter had forgotten all about the anxiety he once harbored. He was laughing wholeheartedly, talking freely, making jokes, and even throwing a flirty line or two. There was nothing to worry about- no school, no interventions, no people staring at him in the restroom.

He started remembering his childhood, a time he didn't particularly cherish, but what he did cherish were the shared memories, being able to look back and recognize that he has grown somehow, managed to become better.

He returned to the last summer camp he attended, waking up early in the morning, swimming in the lake with his friends, sneaking off to Raven's cabin after curfew, unbeknownst to the councilors. They used to talk for hours and come up with elaborate schemes to make the stay of everyone else a dreadful nightmare.

They were both childish in nature, little menaces, that's why they used to get along so well. Two slightly insecure, slightly douchy kids that spoke the same language, trying to seem more rebellious than they actually were.

"Do you remember the wishing ceremony?" Raven brought up.

"Yeah, it is probably the most wholesome thing i have ever participated in.." He replied lazily.

"Yeah... But you didn't. You were a cheater!" She stuck her tongue out at him and scrunched her nose. "There's nothing wholesome about being a cheater!" Raven demanded.

"What do you mean cheater? You can't cheat at making a wish!" He tried defending himself after the unforeseen attack

"The wishes only come true on one condition though- not denying or failing to complete a dare!" Raven struck again "What did you carve out in the tree trunk? Did it come true?" She was genuinely interested.

He searched around in his mind. The truth was much too revealing to say aloud so he offered the best next thing he could muster."I wrote that i wanted to be the leader of a successful band.. i guess it's happening... Maybe..." He pushed himself back into the seat and distractedly played with the ends of the girl's hair.

"You know you're gonna jinx yourself if you don't complete the dare soon. You're gonna jinx your dream!" Raven pointed at his chest with her finger

"You are right! Fuck... What was the dare... I don't remember anymore..." Hunter yawned.

"You have to pick up where you left off at the treehouse. We already established you aren't a smoker. No excuses now...no reason to try to impress me with silly antics..."

It came back to him in a flash. The story was charming if not a little embarrassing. All of the preteens had gathered in a circle, playing truth or dare, but nobody was picking truth because it was for 'wusses'. When it came to Hunter's turn, his friend tried to do him the ultimate favor- Kevin dared him to kiss Raven.

He got very agitated and nervous. He explained he didn't want to kiss his 'bro', he didn't want to catch cooties and everything. To alleviate his distress, Raven suggested they go up into the treehouse, so there wasn't any added pressure from the others.

When they climbed up, Hunter began fidgeting with his fingers, trying to find a distraction. He told Raven he wasn't anxious at all. He told her he was only experiencing nicotine withdrawal.

The girl dug in her pocket and gave him a curious-looking stick. "My dare was to steal something from Sandy's room." She offered the cigarette to her friend.

Hunter sighed, thanked her, and lit up the cancer stick with shaking hands. It tasted atrocious and the smoke made his chest heavy, but he had committed to his bit.

"I never realized you were this cool nicotine addict. Smoke your cigarette, then we can climb back down and tell everyone we did it. I don't want to kiss a person that tastes like an ashtray!" Raven proposed, knowing the boy was struggling.

"I'm not doing this to be cool, I have a problem alright!" Hunter screeched, voice cracking in the process. He was relieved. He looked to Raven with gratitude and put out the cigarette the minute she wasn't looking.

Hunter became painfully aware of his body, his hands shaking, his stomach tying in knots... And his member twitching.

Raven had gotten out of her seat and positioned herself on his lap, her chest pressed up against his, her thighs fully exposed to him. He was engulfed in her scent. He could see all of the little freckles on her face, how close her glossy lips were to his.

She grabbed his chin, making him look directly into her eyes, and whispered into his mouth. "I won't tell anyone you're a cheater, I just don't want this weighing on your conscience."

He put his hands on her hips timidly and pulled her closer. "Should i... Do you want me to..?" He whispered back.

Raven grazed Hunter's bottom lip with her thumb and nodded in response. Their lips came together quickly, a peck. Hunter opened his eyes and cursed a little "ah, fuck it!", pulled the girl close in again and kissed her for real.

Raven's lips parted slowly and Hunter's tongue delved in. They were making patterns in each other's mouths, kissing hungrily, gripping on clothes, exploring each other's bodies. Raven began rocking her hips on top of him ferociously. Hunter returned the favor by bucking his hips upward, hitting her sweet spot with his member.

He was as hard as a rock and horny beyond comprehension. They pulled apart for air, chests heaving. It was sticky in the car, hot and sweaty. Hormones were drifting around into the night air.

Hunter bent down again to go in for another kiss but Raven stopped him. "You did it, pretty boy, no need to do any more work now, let me take care of it," she said and pulled on the roots of his hair. He whimpered in response.

Raven licked a strip down Hunter's neck and blew on it. She began sucking on his jaw, on his neck and collarbones, while humping him at a rapid pace. Hunter was dumbfounded, his underwear already drenched with precum. His dick was twitching hard beneath Raven's core and she relished every little moment of it.

She hovered her hand over Hunter's bulge. "Mind if I help you?"

He huffed and groaned a throathy "please".

The girl palmed his cock, feeling it out in her hand through the fabric of his jeans. She brushed it with her fingers and slowly unzipped him.

"Do you want me to make you come, pretty boy? Do you want my hand on your cock?" Raven asked not even trying to cover her lust for him

"Mhm" he moaned.

"Use your words, handsome! Otherwise, I won't know what you want." She teased again

"It's embarrassing" he turned his ruby face away

"How could it be embarrassing when you're so hot, writhing under me? Be a good boy, good boys always get rewarded" she purred into his ear.

He couldn't pretend anymore. He wanted her to drain him dry. "Please, fuck me with your hand!" He groaned and faced her again.

"Such a sinful little boy..." Raven spat on her hand and started pumping him fast. She bit on his neck, sloppily leaving marks along the way. Hunter was moaning hard, surrendering all control to his master. He could feel her cold rings stroking his shaft, her fingers toying with him.

Raven smeared the precum leaking out of his dick over his tip with her thumb, and cupped his balls with her other hand.

"Do you want to kiss me still, pretty boy?" she breathed into his mouth.

Hunter lowered his head and collided with the girl, his groans stifling in the kiss. He was sucking on her tongue passionately, bucking his hips upward yet again to fuck her fist, expecting the incoming irruption.

Raven broke away from the kiss. She knew he needed one last push. "If you are so needy for my hand, I can only imagine how fast you'd come when you're balls deep in my pussy." She giggled

That was the nail in the coffin- Hunter was thrusting into her hand, bursting all over her fingers, riding out the best high of his life. Raven was still pumping him hard, milking out each and every drop.

"Wasn't so hard now, was it? Good boys get to come, scared ones just smoke a pocketed cigarette in a treehouse." She smirked and stroked Hunter's hair, putting the strands sticking to his forehead back in place.

"If I knew you were going to do this, I would have begged you a long time ago." He chuckled and cleaned her hand with a tissue. She was staring down at him, still on his lap, a victorious expression adorning her features.

"Thank you for helping my dream come true," he said timidly

"That was just an excuse, I already know you'll be incredibly successful, you are an amazing player!" She caressed his cheek.

"That wasn't what I carved into the tree trunk. I just wanted you..." Hunter confessed

"I'm here now, here to stay" she answered reassuringly and kissed his temple.

[xfgpng]

reader description :: petite asian female, 21, 5’0, medium length straight hair + pale skin

reader :: jackie lee

commissioned :: ✔️ (as in a follower’s oc lmao, not my own)

wc :: 3k

warnings :: angst, fluff, feelings realisations, mentions of blood, guns + murder

despite the nagging feeling he had all morning, after seeing jackie in that state, he didn’t really want to think about what would happen if they decided to leave again without her.

for some reason, sebastian felt responsible for her though he didn’t know why or when it even began. ciel was upset and understandably so but they both decided it would be wise to let her join on their new mission. it was further away from the manor and it would be a few days so even if they did try to leave without her, sebastian had no doubts that she would not be too happy about it and he was starting to wonder why he even cared how she felt.

jackie had an unknown hold over everyone in the manor but no one wanted to dwell on that fact for too long. the point was that despite her insistent flirting and the short skirts she’d wear to torment sebastian every other day, she was trustworthy which was important in the phantomhive manor and most importantly, jackie was loyal to a fault.

“you need to stay by my side at all times, do you understand me?” sebastian says firmly, ignoring the warmth seeping through his uniform where she gripped onto his arm.

usually, the carriage ride was filled with a comfortable silence. they’d briefly discuss the mission and then ciel would nod off, as much as the young master denied it.

today, however, was different. the man ciel was meeting was their actual target. he had been kidnapping young women off the streets at night and leaving nothing but a shoe behind.

he was dubbed the cinderella killer and despite the police trying to find him, they’d come up short each time and finally, ciel had to step in. sebastian had found a lead just a few days ago and had secretly been tailing the man under ciel’s orders.

“cinderella killer?” jackie frowns, grip tightening around sebastian’s bicep, “how disgusting can someone be to just do such a thing?”

“it’s pretty normal around these areas” sebastian grins, “humans don’t seem to ever actually need a reason to behave so barbarically”

“not all humans are so cruel” jackie says, “I don’t think i’d have it in me to kill anyone”

“no?” ciel smirks, “not even if it was for me or sebastain?”

she doesn’t answer him. it was no use because she’d never been put in a situation where she’d have to do that and she hoped that if she ever were, sebastian would handle it.

“i see” sebastian chuckles at her lack of response, “he’s only teasing, don’t think too hard and worry that pretty little head of yours”

he was mocking her like he always did but there was no hiding the underlying truth. he was smitten by her and fond of her silly antics. anyone could see that but he was still in denial and she was just happy to be included.

“does he know that we’re onto him?” she asks after a moment, “the killer”

“i don’t think he’s stupid otherwise he would’ve been caught by now” ciel sighs, “but i made a deal with him”

“oh?”

“a fake one of course” he adds, “just to let his guard down”

“a professional serial killer who leaves no evidence behind other than a shoe” jackie says dryly, “even the police can’t seem to catch him. i don’t think his going to let his guard down at all”

“you’re too paranoid” sebastian laughs, “he seemed quite surprised to hear from us and he suggested a place to meet”

“you don’t find that weird?” she asks, raising a brow at the man. she knew they were smart but even a serial killer wouldn’t fall for their antics. people might’ve known who ciel was and most people were eager to meet him but word of his help and good deeds had gotten around pretty quickly.

there was just no way this man wasn’t suspicious of ciel.

“you can stay at the inn and wait for us if you’re so worried” ciel offers, “you could be a distraction if you’re too on edge like this”

“no” she says immediately, “i’m fine, i’m just asking questions, that’s all”

jackie had spent hours watching the show and reading the manga before she ended up here and she’d always imagine herself joining them on their missions. a silly daydream that had suddenly become her reality. she was not about to let them push her aside again.


she wanted to experience everything and prove that she was strong enough to handle these cases with them and that despite being human, strong enough to stand beside sebastian.

he had once called her a fool in love, not meant to offend her but because he truly couldn’t understand loving and trusting anyone so blindly. he was still just a demon after all and things could change over night in ciel said so but that didn’t seem to deter her one bit. it only motivated her to prove him wrong.

november evenings were chilly and wet. she was dressed warm but still insisted on keeping close to sebastian. it felt as though he was a natural furnace and she was drawn to him.

“he’s up in that building” sebastian says, glancing around before they walk across the street.

they were trying it be discreet about this meeting, choosing a time when the streets were quiet and everyone was inside their homes. the cold made sure to keep everyone inside and that worked in their favour, ciel wasn’t sure what would happen but he knew sebastian would handle it.

“young master” sebastian says as he opens the large glass doors of the hotel.

ciel enters and jackie follows, looking around in awe that the beautiful paintings and interior decorations. she wondered if sebastian would ever take her to a place like this when they had some free time.

he enjoyed sex in bizarre places but there was nothing wrong with a romantic night in with candlelit dinner. perhaps she was in over her head but she couldn’t help but imagine how romantic it could be if he just let her plan their evenings.

“this way” a man wearing a navy blue suit says, “my boss is upstairs, 3rd floor room 323”

ciel gives him a curt nod and sebastian steps in front of jackie when he notices the man staring at her.

she can’t help but preen under his attention. he was so jealous even though he denied having any sort of feelings towards her. whether it was just him being possessive or whether he truly cared, jackie couldn’t help but be happy for the attention he’d give her anyway.

these days, if he wasn’t busy in the manor or assisting ciel, he gave his attention to her. she’d heard from may-rin that before, sebastian would fool around with other women. while she wasn’t one to gossip, she knew that was true but she also wondered what else may-rin knew.

“stay close” he whispers and she nods, letting go of his arm. she knew she had to be professional and they were about to meet with a serial killer, something she didn’t think she’d ever do in her life.

“ah, please, come in” the man says. he’s a lot taller than she imagined and he’s dressed professionally, as though he is some rich businessman and upon close inspection, he seems to be someone very important.

an aristocrat of some sort which would make sense. they sometimes seemed to have weird hobbies and his seemed to be abducting and killing young women.

she recognised him from the paper. she’d read an article just a few weeks ago and he was being awarded. he was a big shot in the business world as well as the government.


it made perfect sense why no one would even suspect him, he was too much in the public eye and it was the perfect disguise if jackie could say so.

he was smart too, judging from the way he held the conversation going with ciel.

it was all too perfect really. he had no reason to be worried about the police because they all trusted him and he must’ve had connections.

she glanced around the suite. it seemed to be much larger than a regular suite would be and when she glanced back to him, he was watching her intensely.

“is this your helper?” he asks

“yes she is” ciel says, “this is jackie”

“nice to meet you” he smirks, reaching out to take her hand and out the corner of her eye, she can see sebastian twitch.

“you seem to enjoy collecting jewellery” jackie says, her smile forced as she moves towards a large glass case. it was displayed for everyone to see and from what she could tell, it was all women’s jewellery and the thought made her sick to her stomach.

these were not just any pieces, they were his souvenirs, souvenirs from his victims that he proudly displayed because he was that cocky and confident. he knew that he’d never get caught, not by the police anyway.

“i do wish you weren’t here this evening” the man sighs, “it makes it so much harder to do this”

“do what?” ciel asks

but before he can even ask anything else, a group of men step into the suite wearing black. the point their guns at the trio and the man laughs.

“i do apologise for this but you’ve brought this upon yourself” he shrugs, not looking sorry at all. “you didn’t have to meddle in my business, i wasn’t bothering you with my hobbies”

ciel doesn’t have to say anything before sebastian moves. he’s faster than jackie has ever seen him move and before she knows it, the room is eerily silent.

“what—”

“you didn’t think you’d actually get away with this” ciel scoffs, “in fact, i think you thought you’d get rid of me and continue like nothing ever happened”

the man panics as he falls to the ground but as ciel is talking to him, jackie sees one of the assassins move for his gun and pull the trigger.

she can’t even remember what happened. all she hears is a loud scream, white noise and everything goes blurry.

her left arm feels numb, right where her shoulder is. her eyes seem to droop and the next thing she knows, she’s falling.

sebastian moves quick, tossing a knife into the assassins neck before he catches her. she can hardly focus on anything other than her heavy breathing and the man begging ciel to spare him.

“why the fuck would you do that?” sebastian yells, blood boiling at the sight of her shaking slightly in his arms. there’s a lot of blood, so much so that it seeps into his pants where she’s laying.

“i.. i had to” she coughs, “he was going to shoot you”

“so!” he snaps, angrily, “you know bullets have no effect on me, what on earth were you thinking jackie!?”

“i know but i was… thinking that you look way too hot in that uniform” she says softly, reaching up with her other hand to cup his cheek, “gun shots would ruin that”

“and.. i love you” she adds

“jackie!” he says but her eyes close after that and he feels his whole body going into shock.

he’s never had to deal with this before and ciel beside him, equally as panicked doesn’t help the situation. he couldn’t care less about the man in the room and he knows they have to deal with him.

love? if love makes you do stupid things then sebastian wanted no parts in it. he was right, humans were stupid and they never thought things through.

he doesn’t understand why he’s so mad, why his whole body refuses to move despite him knowing they needed to leave and get her to a hospital or something.

“no hospitals” ciel says, “she’ll be upset when she wakes”

“young master i—”

“everything will be fine” ciel says, remaining calm despite the way his hands are obviously shaking. they needed to leave, to get back to the manor where they were home and safe. where jackie would be safe.

“come” ciel says, “carry her out and be careful not to put any pressure on her arm”

sebastian knows that. he wants to tell ciel that he’s not stupid and that he knows what he’s doing but he can’t bring himself to move or to say anything else.

ciel can feel that something is off so he grabs sebastian’s hand and squeezes. it seems to work because they’re moving out the room and down the stairs, ignoring the elevator.

“jackie you need to stay awake” sebastian says, trying not to shout too loud, “we’re in the carriage so open your eyes for me”

“i’m tired” she whispers, barely registering anything. she knows she was shot and apart of her is glad her body seems to have went into shock because she can’t feel a thing.

“you can rest when we’re home” ciel says

“home?” jackie grins, a little delirious, “i do have a home”

“yes you do” sebastian swallows, “at the manor so don’t sleep until we get there”

“okay” she agrees easily but is already slipping back into sleep, head resting against sebastian’s chest where he holds her firmly against his body.

“stupid stupid stupid” sebastian says, squeezing his eyes shut. he wants to throw her off his lap, scream at ciel and her for putting him in this situation though he knows it’s not their fault.

he wants someone to blame and he knows he should’ve made her stay. she’d be hurt but at least she wouldn’t be shot. she’d be sad but she wouldn’t have lost so much blood.

the room is dimly lit when she opens her eyes. she tries to sit up but can’t, wincing at the sharp pain she feels in her shoulder.


sebastian is immediately at her side, forcing her to lay back down. he’s no longer wearing his uniform, dressed down completely which is something she’s never seen him do.


when she looks at his face, he’s frowning, something else she’s never seen before and she can’t help but smile despite the pain because it’s so obvious that he cares for her.

he could’ve had anyone else take care of her but he stayed even when she was unconscious. he hasn’t even showered, still covered in her blood and the sight shouldn’t make her so happy but it does.

“you’re an idiot” he scoffs, trying to hide how relieved he is that she’s awake.

“yes but i’m alive” she grins, “and you still look sexy, i’d say that’s a win in my books”

“well change the books you read because it’s making you stupid” he says dryly, helping her drink some water before wiping her face off with a towel nearby.

“i’m sorry” she says, reaching to hold his hand and she’s only a little surprised that he lets her.

“you know nothing can happen to me” he says, “but you… you’re different”

“i don’t know why i panicked and moved without thinking” she sighs, “it was stupid but i wanted you to be okay”

“jackie” he glares but he doesn’t let go of her hand

“yes i know” she shakes her head, “i won’t do that again”

“you’ve upset me” he admits, “but you’re okay so i suppose that’s more important right now”


she’s never seen him this upset before. they’ve experienced a few things since her time here but an angry sebastian directed at her felt different.

“i need some time” he says after a while and she looks up at him, eyes widening when he does let go of her hand.

“seb—”

“i need to shower and then the young master needs my assistance” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “you need to rest”

she’s seen him blow up, shout and get even kill but him being so calm while being mad at her makes her heart clench uncomfortably. she knows she messed up and it would be a while before she’d be allowed to go with them anywhere that related to cases.

“you can sleep, i won’t be coming back this evening” he tells her, but he still leans down and grabs her hand again.

he kisses her knuckles gently, avoiding eye contact because he knew now that if he looked at her, he’d give in to those pretty eyes and she still needed to rest and also think about what she did.


if he was being a little petty, it was only because he still needed to understand why he reacted the way he did. apart of him felt closer to her than ever before but he couldn’t pinpoint why.

he knew how she felt about him, had come to terms with accepting that no matter what he did or tried to do, jackie wasn’t phased.

and besides, she was far too charming to stay angry at forever.

“i really am sorry” she calls after him, making him stop just before leaving her room, “you’re right, it was stupid of me and i should’ve been thinking before acting but sometimes we do things we don’t even understand ourselves”

“even if you’re not human, that’s something you must understand right?” she asks and he sighs

“jackie, you can’t—”

“i love you” she cuts him off, “i don’t need you to tell me that you love me, it doesn’t change how i feel and you don’t get to tell me how to feel either”

“i know you do” he sighs, turning to face her and despite being upset, he could never deny how beautiful she was even laying there with an injury she should’ve not had.

“so you can stay mad as long as you need to but i’m not going anywhere” she frowns, looking away from him, “i just need you to know that”

he rolls his eyes but he can’t stop the fond smile even if he tried to.

“no sex for a while but i’ll come back once i’m done” he says and she grins because she knew he’d never stay mad too long.

[8k26]

18+ indie rp blog .⋆☣︎°✮ discord writer .⋆☣︎°✮ semi-lit – novella writer .⋆☣︎°✮ est .⋆☣︎°✮ 21 .⋆☣︎°✮ semi selective⋆☣︎°✮ poc

multi muse–majority of which are poc and varies in ages. i mainly play mxm, fxf, and mxf, but don’t expect me to only play males for your female muses, i’m picky with who i pair my male muses with in terms of mxf. all my characters are switches and dom leaning, i like to play against characters who are the same way. your muses don’t have to be dom leaning but they at least have to be switches. i use realistic fcs, either celebs or social media personalities, or drawn fcs. here’s my fcs/wanted opps. aka i’ll use them for muses and/or you can pick one to play as. and here’s my banned fcs

i love angsty drama filled plots and toxic relationships; dark concepts like drug use, manipulation, alcoholism, abuse, killers, and even more. smut is a must, in fact i prefer smut heavier rps while they still have a good story/plot going on. i rarely do fandom plots–certain ones i only play oc’s and im picky if you want me to play a canon against your oc. (wanna avoid self inserts and god mods) i still love fluff and wholeness here and there, but breaking down characters is where i shine lmao.

genres, plots, pairings, and fandoms i love:

modern urban settings

gang/crime/mafia

modern fantasy

angel/demons

enemies with benefits

single parent x hates kids

rivals

(fake) celebrities x non fan

gang leader x under cover cop

teen angst (18+)

polyamorous

cyberpunk 2077

into the spiderverse

devil may cry

bayonetta

dc comics (i’m rusty on the lore, it’s actually been awhile since i’ve gotten into it)

and any of these combined

rules ♱.* main tags are down here👇🏽idk how to link tags so just 🤫

[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Six, Mad Woman

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Note: idk how i feel about this chapter but just wanted to get the story moving

Masterlist

-

Inky black tentacles swarmed her limp body. A heavy fog wafted through her nostrils, past her lips and through her ears swirling her mind into a dark haze. It felt like something large laid itself on her, she wanted to scream, to thrash, to do anything other than lay there. She tried to scream. Nothing came. Fingers unmovable at her side. Bells tolled in the background. Once. Twice. Three times. An ache resurfaced. An incomprehensible densely packed knot twisted within her chest, pushing on her lungs as a choked intake of air turned perilous– 

Sabine shook her head, pushing back the unwanted intrusion in her head. She forced herself to smile, not wanting to tell Mihawk of her nightmare from last night that still haunted her six hours later. He’d probably notice any odd changes in her behavior, he seemed so pleased when she reported sleeping through the night. Though if she woke, he’d have too- nobody was ever safe from her night terrors it seemed. It would only be a matter of time before he saw that vulnerable side of her…

Sitting across from him as they ate a late lunch, Sabine began to think about how he’d once been nothing but a stranger at a bar. Then the man who’d dueled Zoro, only to say to her upon parting she’d be his. And now Sabine didn’t even consider him a stranger, which probably made no sense considering- The man was a vicious killer, a warlord, yet he treated her with the utmost respect and care. 

And there was something about it all.

Sabine couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but she trusted him. Deep in her gut, in her heart, and in her mind. He drew her in, like an overpowered rip current that refused to let her swim back ashore. As if fate itself intervened for them to meet. The butterfly effect of it all had managed to change her life- one day a girl separated from home, then a nun exorcizing a supposed demon that would cause her nightmares, which led to a sabbatical, leading Luffy, which led to Mihawk. It was absurd.

“So,” She hummed, “What do you think?”

They’d paid the marine base a visit after breakfast, sat and combed through reports from last year and then the last month. All while an onslaught of marines came to see if the rumors were true, that the strongest swordsman was actually in their base. The two were an unusual pair to look at, an infamous pirate and a nun. 

Upon reading said reports and piecing them together with information from Sabine, Mihawk understood what was going on. Blaringly so. He didn’t need to see the church’s archive reports or to read the books Sabine talked of. A devil fruit user was at large on the island experimenting on the population, the pattern was evident and he’d be damned to admit an actual demon was doing this. But Sabine wasn’t catching on as quickly as he had. 

“I believe you have a devil fruit user on your hands. No exorcism would have helped.” Mihawk wanted to be gentle in this unusual process, it was becoming more clear how much real world experiences the young woman lacked. Her education was what the church had deemed acceptable, to her everyone deep down had good intentions or else the ideas of salvation would be shattered. But he sees it; the wavering of those feelings, her disdain at times, and Mihawk wonders how much Sabine had faked over the years in order to be a good nun.

She nodded, trying to push down the guilt that would resurface. Instead she focused on his handsome features, his beard and thick brows, sharp and masculine that made a rush of tepid liquid roll through her. 

“But how? I understand it but- I know what I saw, can a devil fruit cause such a thing?”

“Probably. The woman you saw back then touched you, correct?”

“Yes, it felt like touching any other person, not an apparition while it could move like one.” Sabine shivered. A sudden chill down her spine as she remembered the brutal feeling of that wretched monster’s claw-like grip on her wrist. How it’d held her so tight there was a mark afterwards for weeks. Only Sister Sienna’s homemade salve helped it heal.

“Hm, I see.”

“What?” She inquired, anxiety riddling her as he blocked her from seeing any changes of his facial features, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I think this is beyond the scope of your abilities.”

“Huh?”

Mihawk pushed his food around his plate with his fork before setting it down, “I don’t know why your church foolishly sent two people to investigate demonic activity before going to the marines. I don’t want you to get hurt, so let me handle this from here.”

“But… Why? This seems beneath you, it has nothing to do with the sea.”

“If I handle this, would you trust that the danger here is gone for good?”

“Yes.”

“If it ends your nightmares that’s good enough of a reason for me to handle it.”

“Please let me help still. I promise I’ll listen to whatever you say! I know this city well, I’ve met the families of those impacted last year they could help. We only figured the connections of everyone to be religious, perhaps they came into contact with the devil fruit user-demon-person another way. Same knitting group maybe?”

Mihawk couldn’t stifle an amused smile or the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, “Maybe.” He let out a defeated sigh and she knew she’d won, “I guess we’ll be playing detective. This is not my forte.”

“Well I appreciate it more than you know. I can go and deal with all the people, everyone’s scared the moment they look at you.” She giggled, calmness taking over the fear she’d had. Her heart swelled. If it weren’t for the table between them she would have thrown her arms around him to thank him through an unbreakable hug. The fact he was doing this for her, was mind boggling, absolutely solidified the growing fondness for him she had.

“I will stay by your side regardless.”

“Are you sure?” Another skip in her heartbeat from his words. 

“Yes, I will not let you gallivant around this city blind, you’d foolishly get yourself killed.”

“I see that now and I agree. Sure scary ghosts I can handle, but a person? No. Don’t rely on me in a fight.”

“Would never dream of it my dear.” Any smile she got out of him she’d treasure. Her fingers tingle with nerves as they want to reach out and grab his own.

They continued eating in a comfortable silence. Sabine kept her gaze low as her face burned, her stomach painfully fluttering due to those gold eyes that made her feel intrusive emotions. How her body had yet to cool down from how close in his orbit she’d been. They’d slept in the same room for god's sake! She recounted each of his words, how protective they’d been, him wanting her out of harm's way. How this was probably child’s play yet he entertained it for her, took it as seriously as she was.

“I would like to go visit Cardinal Joseph if you don’t mind, to fill him in.”

Mihawk nodded, “Finish up and we’ll go.” 

The pair walked side by side through the weaving streets, looking like the most unusual of pairs. A large man with an even larger sword. And a nun. 

But none of that mattered. Sabine felt secure walking inches from him, their arms occasionally brushing, her body a pleasant warm with humming emotion. The air smelled faint of the salty ocean water that wafted up from the port. Slowly a faint scent of tangy iron and the raunchy human smell of the crowd that had gathered. It made her heart skip a beat as she choked in a breath. Faint murmurs in a rounded opening below the few storied buildings that looked right out of a story book. 

Mihawk felt like an anchor for her as her chest tightened suddenly, the familiarity of certain buildings that brought back a litany of memories once she saw through the crowd. Her steps slowed. From beyond the masses of people, a cascade of string lights that led to a door that reverberated through her entirety. The red paint. The floral arrangements that grew along the cracking bricks. And a man so vibrantly out in front with gaudy clothes and a jeweled scepter- him. 

She knew his name instantly. DiPont Giorgio. The wrench in their plans last year. How loudly he spewed his feelings of the church and how they couldn’t get a handle on the demonic deaths. Whatever popular story was the news for the day or weeks, he latched onto it and milked it. He made grand spectacles of issues just to turn them on those most impacted, all while wearing that giddy smile. Other’s pain brought him pleasure. 

Mihawk noticed the change in her body language; how she tensed up, a fist clenched, legs locked in place, and her eyes fixed so that they stared past the crowd. He inspected every face and body his golden eyes could see, upon seeing the man dressed as a jester, he assumed that was the point of her sudden behavior. 

He pulled her to the side. 

The two alone in a side alley, him pressing her to a building’s side. He brushed a hand along her hair, feeling her clammy skin as sweat beaded along her hairline. She shivered as his fingers prodded into the sensitive skin going down her neck then pulling at the constricting neckline of her clothes. 

“Breathe, dear.”

Sabine shook her head furiously. 

“Breathe. In then out.” The sound of his voice lulled into her brain, scraping and whirling until it could pull her out her trance. Her pupils returned to a normal size, lashes fluttering as she looked at Mihawk like she was seeing him for the first time, “There we are.”

“Mi..hawk.” She whimpered. A cascade of frigid sentiments made her extremities numb. 

“Tell me what’s upset you. Is it the man that drew the crowd?”

Nodding, her lips parted, then closed only to open again. She sucked in a shaky breath, “Yes.”

If looks could kill- the way his fingers flexed and shoulders straightened, Mihawk immediately honed in on the man as his aura began to bubble. To boil over into the world of anger, into a fiery red over the fact a single person could cause Sabine such discontent. A surge of impulsiveness, a feeling he rarely felt or indulged in or bothered with, consumed him. Anything that disturbed him on the sea or in the way was worthy of him unsheathing a blade, but in this situation he couldn’t understand why he wanted to cut down that jester of a man. How a hand subconsciously went to unsheath Yoru, Mihawk stopped himself. 

Sabine’s fingers had curled into his coat as she stared up at him with watering eyes. It took all his strength not to pick her up and whisk her away until those tears were no more. Yet years of intense training and discipline went wayward in the moment as his pulse hiked and skin tingled warm. Instead he brought a hand up to her face, stroking a thumb along her cheekbone as she’d calmed down due to his lapsed moment of judgment. He felt guilty.

“Who is he?”

“Giorgio. He’s a wretched man.” Sabine sighed, “Takes joy in toying with others. Will latch on to someone suffering just to make some berry.”

“Ah, I’m guessing he was an unwanted presence last year?”

“Yes.”

Mihawk could feel the negativity that whipped around this man, Giorgio. Through his toothy grins and erratic hands waving about, there was something unnatural in how he spewed nonsense that riled up the crowd. 

“What’s he saying?” She asked meekly, tugging on his coat to regain his attention. 

“I’m not sure, would you like to move closer? I can go on my own-”

“No! Don’t leave me.”

Fear. Mihawk could smell it reek off her, the patheticness along her features tugging at his heart strings. He wanted to, selfishly, believe her words were meant for him alone and not for the reason she didn’t want to be left aside. He wondered if she’d cling to anyone like this in her vulnerable state as her tinier body began to shake.

“I never could explain it, he gave me the creeps. Which I know isn’t a punishable offense. Cardinal Joseph simply found him annoying whereas, I have a gut feeling he’s just… scum. Again nothing to be done, he always knew when to stay away and not engage in our work.” 

Mihawk watched as her fright turned into something else as she rambled about the man, he assumed it was annoyance glimmering in her eyes. She huffed, smoothing down her skirt with her hands as a way to regain composure. A little shake of her shoulders and arms, another huff, and she was walking past him. 

“Sabine.” He clasped a hand on her shoulder and tugged her back. A gasp left her lips as another one of his hands clamped on her waist, “Do not leave my side, just like I promised not to leave yours.”

A protectiveness surged through him. He wouldn’t let her get past him, he’d keep her by his side whether or not by force. This place brought her pain and he was growing sick of sudden reminders everything seemed to give her. On top of the fact, this was all a mess, he’d rather be on the sea fighting an entire armada than this slow give and take work that should be up to a paper pusher.

His lips hovering just along an ear made her heart thump painfully in her chest. Her bold confidence simmered like a snap of a twig, “Sorry, I don’t know what got into me… I don’t want him to see me, even though I have choice words for him. He used to seek us out, taunt us, he’d touch my hair or tug at my habit. A disrespectful man with no boundaries or shame.”

“Then let’s go, especially before I do something regrettable.” Mihawk said under his breath, a dangerous tone seeping from his words. His grip on her tightened.

“Yes, let's.” A chill ran down Sabine’s spine at the thought of the things Mihawk could do to Giorgio. Not that she wished death upon anyone, but that man had karma coming to him one of these days, perhaps it would be fitting for it to come from a man aligned with her. 

They went along the outskirts of all the noise, heading down the road that would lead to the church where they’d find Cardinal Joseph. And then make a plan to pinpoint how to find the devil fruit user. Simple- Sabine highly doubted that would be the case. She squeezed Mihawk’s bicep that she clung to. 

But Sabine couldn’t help herself as she went to strain her neck turning around. From that glance alone, her eyes connected with his. Giorgio, still mid preaching, gave her a twisted smile. An intoxicating, ambergris musk invaded her nostrils and her surroundings went null as Mihawk kept them moving forward, her footsteps more an inebriated march as they clunked against the cobbled streets.

The remaining day was that of following the motions. 

Then it turned into a week, then another. 

A grueling death had shut the Island down, trying to leave would have been futile. Sabine and Cardinal Joseph had investigated the perimeter of the murder, checked the victims belongings for anything that matched- and it did. 

Over a year ago, the demon had left burnt and flipped crossed over the victims, whose eyes were black as night and limbs gaping, mushy, cold. 

And there, a body with a similar modus operandi laid at her feet. 

Sabine had fallen to her knees due to the note beside the cross, the sound of her hitting the floor spurred Mihawk into the room to aid her. She still couldn’t fathom why he stayed at her side, didn’t mock her for her inability in this area of work, in her lack of understanding about the world they lived in. How dutifully he explained things to her over the last few weeks and answered all her questions. She selfishly loved how he hovered, how they grew closer while the island was going up in flames. 

‘Come get me!’

The written words taunted her. She wanted to rip the note up, throw it into a fireplace and watch it burn along with her bubbling feelings of failure.

Oh how wrong had the church been. Even if this wasn’t someone who’d eaten a devil fruit, the powers and natures of this world were immense. So much was still unknown. But demons couldn’t write! More proof this was a human or creature doing this! That ridiculous exorcism and belief in faith had been futile, foolish, stupid, hasty, and it made her want to scream. To cry. To bleed. To slam her head into a wall or throw herself out the window much like a victim had last year too. Sabine thought of that nun, her body splattered on the ground and how the decay of her flesh melded into the dying grass. For the first time she believed her faith was a facade she’d forced on herself.

Sabine thought that her life had been a waste, that if she’d been more competent, able to think for herself- this person wouldn’t have died. 

-

posted: july 24 2024

taglist: @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996 let me know if you wanna be added!

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Heart of the Ocean 💙 | Teen Wolf Miniseries Part 1

Takes place in between 3A & 3B of Teen Wolf

Teen Wolf Masterlist | part 2

Characters & Pairings: Hale/McCall Pack x supernatural!reader (female/platonic), eventual Peter Hale x reader (romantic), reader x male!oc ( past romance) & reader x supernatural!reader (platonic). Characters in this imagine: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale, Peter Hale.

Content Warnings: light angst, profanity, references of historical event disaster, mentions of death, blood, murder | afab!reader (she/her pronouns) | wc: 3.1k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Suspicious deaths were a common occurrence in Beacon Hills—especially after things seem to be actually looking good when a previous problem is fixed. Now Scott and the pack are having to investigate a string of murders happening that not only reek of supernatural, but linked to an renowned event they’ve learned in history class.

Note: I’m hyperfixating on Titanic as of late so I have a lot of ideas involving AU’s and retelling with various fandoms. I just did a TGM au with Bradley Bradshaw and currently have a Twilight one in the works so expect a lot of Titanic in my works when I’m not writing requests.

————————————

Riddles were a tricky little thing. And when used in a malevolent way where to find the answer to a solution one must crack the code, riddles can become a person’s worst enemy.

And the one laying on the table of Derek’s loft was becoming their enemy.

Murders, which was becoming a common occurrence lately in Beacon Hills, were happening where the people were nearly drained of their blood by cutting their throats and wrists before letting them hang upside down. Stiles' father was overwhelmed with stress. Not to mention he was having to come to terms with the reality his town was a beating heart for supernatural creatures. Like how his sons best friend since childhood was a fucking werewolf.

And while it was presumed a human serial killer was responsible for the murders, the pack had an inkling it was more sinister. Investigating on their own they found more suspicious reasons to believe it was supernatural.

Only problem, they had no clue who or what it was.

They were all gathered over the table—save for Peter who was nestled on the couch. Stiles was rubbing a thumb over his lip, becoming frustrated as he was usually on top of solving riddles. Lydia was beside him, deep in thought as she read over the paper silently.

“He just left this here?” Scott glanced at Derek, who was standing with his arms crossed on the opposite side of the table.

“Right outside the door. Like he wanted us to find it.”

“And you heard nothing?” Stiles’ question earned him a glare. “Super hearing and you didn’t hear someone stabbing a piece of paper into your front door?”

“If I did you think I would’ve let him leave the damn note?” Derek spoke harshly.

“Riddle.”

“—knowing all it is is a distraction so he can kill more people.”

“It’s not just a distraction,” Allison interrupted the two bickering, staring hard at the note. “It’s an order. He’s asking us to find someone.”

“Yeah,” Isaac scoffed, “who we have no idea is.”

“Read it again,” Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. With a huff, Stiles took the paper in his hands, clearing his throat before reading aloud for all to hear.

Have you figured it out yet?

Were my clues not enough?

You’re thinking too hard now,

Let me show you it’s not so tough.

Our faces the same,

As they were the day we changed.

Only the eyes no longer its color,

A price for the exchange.

You’ll find it almost disheartening,

When you learn of what we do.

Our nature is uncanny,

But it’s not so far from you.

Find the one I’m looking for,

And I’ll stop the chaos and the pain.

Are you ready?

Here’s your hint.

Time is of the essence,

So you better make it quick.

Wearing the Heart of the Ocean,

She’s closer than it seems.

For I seek the one I turned,

Who was on the Ship of Dreams.

Silence fills the loft, everyone thinking hard of what it could mean. There were so many clues but so vague it was difficult to puzzle them together.

“Well we know it’s someone supernatural,” Isaac hummed, attempting to lighten the situation.

“Yeah we got that genius,” Peter muttered.

“And he’s looking for a woman,” Allison added, ignoring Peter’s sarcasm. “Someone he turned. And was on a ship?” It comes out more like a question, “that could mean a lot of things.”

“Could it be a werewolf?” Scott turned to Derek

The man shook his head, “I don’t think so.”

“But the thing about the eyes—.”

“Many shapeshifters' eyes are like ours. That doesn’t mean it’s a wolf. Plus he said they’re not wolves.”

“How do you know?”

Derek rolls his eyes as though it were obvious, “he wrote, ‘our nature is uncanny, but it’s not so far from you,’. If they were wolves he would’ve said so.”

“Maybe another Kanima?” Allison suggested, “the master looking for his puppet?”

Stiles cuts in, narrowing his eyes on the last verse, “Why would he bold the first and last line of the last clue—these ones,” he places the paper flat on the table. Lydia, the closest to him, leans in as his finger points to the verse. “Heart of the Ocean and the—.”

“Ship of Dreams,” she finishes, voice going low as realization hits her. All eyes turn to her, confusion in their gaze until the name leaves her lips. “Titanic.”

“What?” The question came from Scott, but all were thinking the same. There’s no way she was talking about the most famous shipwreck in history.

“Titanic,” Lydia repeated, this time more confidently. Her own finger came up to point where Stiles' finger had been. “They used to call it the Ship of Dreams.”

“Titanic?” Isaac’s tone was full of doubt. “You mean the ship that sank a century ago?” He couldn’t help but add, “And the movie Leonardo DiCaprio dies in.”

She rolls her eyes, “I don’t recall any other having the same name.”

“The anniversary is coming up,” Derek starts to say, deep in thought like it was all coming together. “It would make sense.”

“Wait—hold on,” Stiles lifts a dramatic hand. “We’re talking about THE Titanic—like Isaac said—that sank a hundred years ago. A hundred,” he repeats to show his point. “Anyone who is alive—even if they were a werewolf or shapeshifter or whatever the hell you want to call it,” he glances at each of them, “would pretty much be on their last breath of life. If this woman were a newborn baby at the time she’d be at least one hundred years old by now.”

In the debate none had noticed Peter moved from the couch to the window. The chuckle leaving his mouth caught their attention. Stiles makes a sound, “I’m sorry, do you wanna share with the class what you obviously know that we’re missing?”

“Our faces are the same,” he says the opening line of the second verse, only drawing confusion and annoyed looks from the others. “As they were the day we changed.” The man pauses, letting it sink in before continuing, “If the woman he’s looking for was on Titanic then she likely was an adult. Considering he turned her, probably by saving her from freezing to death or drowning, and she wears the same face she did the night she was turned…” Peter steps away from the window, now facing the group.

“She’s not aging. At all. Meaning…..she’s immortal.”

The silence following his confession is eerie, eyes flicking over each other to see if they were reacting the same. Immortal. Though the term was familiar it felt almost foreign. Never had they dealt with someone immortal. Unable to die and was walking the Earth acting as though they were human. Now Beacon Hills had two in its possession. They needed to work fast and the riddle only had pieces of the puzzles.

So who—or more like what, was immortal?

"What are you getting to?” Scott narrowed his eyes, Wanting a straightforward answer to what they were dealing with.

Peter clasps his hands behind his back, slowly inching forward,” It’s not shapeshifters you’re looking for.” He takes a step closer, “or a Kanima and its master.” Another step, “or a dark Druid.” Another step brings him right next to Derek, eyes flicking to the paper. “There are few creatures blessed with immortality—or cursed if you look at it another way. But most of them are born with it. Take Gods and fairies for example.”

“Oh my God—those exist?” Stiles feels his mind implode, “Are we about to fight Gods?”

“No,” annoyed at being interrupted Peter rolled his eyes. “I just said those are immortals that are born with their powers. And I don’t know if they exist, I’ve haven’t met one yet. Anyway, this one—.” His finger touches the riddle, “was turned. And likely the person who did was too.”

“So what is it then,” Scott was becoming impatient. And who could blame him really. For all they know it someone was already being drained of their blood at that very moment. “What’s the immortal that’s turned not born?”

“Come one,” he scoffs, like he couldn’t believe they hadn’t figured it out. “Ever wonder why the victims were drained of their blood?” The one question had everyone's face become colorless. “Has Stiles's father not caught on the wounds were made after they were dead?” Why their throat was slashed….but had two little puncture holes on either side?” Peter glances around at every person, catching the nervousness of their gaze as though they already knew what he was about to say but wished it wasn’t.

“The creatures you’re looking for…..are vampires.”

The rest of the night the pack was gathering as much information as they could about the passengers aboard Titanic—all 2,240 of them—while also trying to figure out any other clues within the riddle. They still couldn’t believe it was a vampire responsible for the murders. And that he was hunting someone he created who, still to their shock, was a passenger aboard Titanic.

And with 2,240 people on the ship during its ill fated maiden voyage…they were in for a long night.

“Okay so we know they’re vampires—our killer is the one who turned the woman he’s searching for into a vampire. She was on Titanic when it sank meaning—,” Stiles wrote furiously across the notepad, the riddle next right beside it. “He was on it too. Now we could narrow this down several ways. Either by searching through the passengers class or going through who survived because as Lydia pointed out,” the hand holding the pen points to the redhead, “RMS Carpathia recorded the names of the survivors before they reached New York.”

Either method was good, but there was a problem with the latter. As Allison pointed out, “but what if they never knew she was there? I mean having a newly turned vampire on a ship filled with people is a recipe for disaster.”

Derek nods, agreeing with her, “Her eyes would’ve made it obvious.”

“How so?” Asked Isaac.

Peter is the one to explain, “Vampires in our world are different from what you see on TV. They aren’t these pale, corpse-like, individuals who look like they belong in the morgue. They’re rather human-like if they’re equipped with a special glimmer that allows them to come off as mortal.”

“Glimmer?” Lydia raised a brow, finding the word a bit comical given the creature they were dealing with.

“We’ll get to that. But any vampire who’s newly turned will have red eyes—blood red eyes.”

“How fitting,” Stiles couldn’t help but groan. “So what, are you saying she’s likely wearing contacts to hide her eyes.”

“Possibly,” Peter hums with a shrug, “wouldn’t be surprised if she is. This day in age makes it easier for vampires to conceal their nature. But considering our little vampire was turned in 1912…her creator probably hid her on the Carpathia—or as outrageous as it sounds, swam her across the remainder of the Atlantic ocean.”

Derek closes the book in front of him, detailing the events of the RMS Carpathia rescue of Titanic’s passengers. “However he saved her can wait,” he leans his hands onto the table, “We need to figure out the last clue of this riddle.” Moving the riddle to him, Derek reads, “Wearing the Heart of the Ocean, she’s closer than it seems.”

Lydia bites her lip, typing away on her laptop. “If I didn’t know it any better…it sounds like he’s trying to reference a piece of jewelry. Probably a necklace or something.”

Peter rubs his jaw deep in thought, “That could be the source of her glimmer.”

“The necklace?” Stiles wonders aloud.

“Usually most vampires would prefer a ring or bracelet,” he waves a hand, “It’s small and concealable. Very easy for a Druid to enchant the item and allow the vampire to give off the effect to other supernatural beings they’re human. Prevents them from being obliterated by the sun. That’s their glimmer. Sealed within the jewelry to act as a camouflage. So long as they have it on,” he shrugs lightly, “you’d never know what they truly are.”

“And she’s been passing off as a human in Beacon Hills. For God knows how long,” Lydia opens a separate browser, hands hovering over the keyboard. “If her necklace has a name like Heart of the Ocean it shouldn’t be too hard to find. We find the Heart of the Ocean, we find her.” Her words have Allison come over beside her, realization crossing her face.

“Isn’t that the name of the necklace Rose wore in the movie?” Right as she finished her sentence, the image popped up on the screen of said necklace after Lydia typed the name into Google. “So it was real after all?”

“Appears to be,” Lydia was just as amazed. Stiles leans over her other side, eyes bulging at the sight of the large blue heart-shaped diamond surrounded by tiny little white ones.

“That’s gotta be worth a billion dollars.”

“350 million to be exact,” Lydia reads off. “At least today it is. Back then it was worth probably not even a quarter of that price—but still big for its time.”

“So…” Isaac taps his finger to his mouth, glaring up at the ceiling from where he was seated, legs perched on the table. “We’re looking for a vampire—probably at least 120 give or take a few years—who is passing off as human because of a magic necklace worth more than our entire lives. Wonderful.”

Scott takes a glance, letting out a whistle, “That had to have belonged to a first-class passenger. I’d say we start there.”

“On it,” Lydia begins to search records of the names aboard Titanic with First-class tickets. While she’s doing that the pack gathers to the makeshift board Stiles had created, adding notes to it as they go.

Stiles tapes the new information on the necklace to next to the verse on the copy of the riddle they made. “Heart of the Ocean a.k.a the magic necklace making the vampire appear human. To be honest, if someone were wearing a necklace that extravagant in Beacon Hills it’d be noticeable.”

Scott agreed, “She’s probably keeping it under her clothes. I mean I would. Lydia, did you find anything on who it belonged to?”

The redhead makes a huff, “from what the article says,” she clicks on a link, “it belonged to American socialite Y/n L/n as a gift from her husband Theodore Ford on their wedding day. He had it custom made overseas on a trip to France.” Lydia’s eyes widened at the next line, “She was the niece of John Rockefeller and he was the nephew of Henry Ford.”

“Good God,” Stiles made a sound, many of the others showing a similar reaction. “What a match made in heaven…and money.”

“Great,” Peter plops onto the couch, “our vampire was a once billionaire socialite—well maybe not billionaire. That’s a far reach. Since she was only the niece of Rockefeller and her hubby was a Ford she probably only had a snippet of their families fortune.” The man rolls his neck, hands clasped on his lap with his legs kicked up. “She shouldn’t be too hard to find then. All we need is a picture.”

Derek gives his uncle an annoyed look, “We don’t if it’s her or not. Maybe the necklace was stolen by her creator and that’s how she got it.”

“What else does it say?” Allison turns her attention back to her best friend. In her head she couldn’t help but feel there was something missing. That they were so close to the answer.

Lydia continues on, “It says here that they married in 1901–Y/n aged nineteen and Theodore aged twenty-one. They had a son, Benjamin, born 1905 and Theodore died six years later in 1911 from a car accident.” She scrolls down a bit, brows furrowing a tad and makes a sound of ‘eureka!’ “Y/n was gifted two First-Class tickets for her and her son aboard Titanic by her uncle John Rockefeller. They boarded the ship during Titanic’s first stop to Cherbough, France….survivors of Titanic recall last seeing Y/n place her son Benjamin into a lifeboat before being denied entry since it had reached maximum capacity,” a feeling of heartbreak fills the redhead, soon followed by defeat as she reads “It is believed Y/n L/n drowned as the ship submerged beneath the surface on April 15, 1912, as her body was never recovered as one to have perished from hypothermia in the freezing waters. Nor was she listed on the records of survivors on RMS Carpathia. Her son Benjamin was soon taken in by her mother where he remained in New York City until his sudden death in 1918 by influenza.”

A moment of silence passes as they take in the information. For Allison and Lydia, they couldn’t help the sadness for the woman they didn’t even know. To have to say goodbye to your child, likely promising them you’d get on the next boat and would be reunited shortly, only to never see them again.

The redhead suddenly straightens her posture.

“What is it?” Scott hears her heartbeat quicken. Worry takes his features when Lydia appears as if she saw a ghost. Everyone else looks the same when she brings a hand to her mouth. “Lydia?” There’s a slight tremor in her hand when she pulls it away.

“She’s closer than it seems.” She whispers the line from the final verse. Tone filled with near distraught.

Allison takes a hesitant step forward. From where they were all standing they could also see the light of the screen hitting Lydia’s complexion. Whatever was on it was hidden from their view. “Lydia…”

“I-I thought it meant that by finding the Heart of the Ocean we’d be able to spot whoever was wearing it. That we’d have to maybe knock on every door in Beacon Hills until we find whoever is hiding it—as stupid as that sounds. Because who in their right mind if they knew they were being hunted would just hide in plain sight? But….” her breath picks up, slight horror and astonishment as she stares back at the screen. “He knows where she is—h-he wants us to find her, because she can lead us to him.”

“Lydia….” Stiles slowly draws closer to her. Peter moves to stand from the couch, expression unreadable as was Derek’s.

But Lydia’s eyes never move from the screen. “The riddle—it was just his game. He knows exactly where she is. He has to. Because she’s been under our nose all along—closer than we could’ve imagined.” Finally the redhead looks up to the anxious eyes of everyone, revealing the shocking truth with the slow turn of the laptop.

“She boarded Titanic as Y/n L/n,” the screen shows a sepia image causing Allison to gasp, Isaac to mutter ‘holy shit’, Stiles to drop his marker, and Scott to feel his stomach drop. Derek and Peter shared a look, Derek more anxious than his uncle. “But she’s been living as Loretta Andrews.”

There on the screen, listed as the socialite Y/n L/n and wearing the jaw-dropping necklace called the Heart of the Ocean, was a woman whose face the teenagers had seen every Monday to Friday for the last three months. Who looked no older than the age of 30 like in the picture and had arrived in Beacon Hills shortly before the spring semester.

Their English teacher, Loretta Andrews.

[bellamer]

I’m gonna try to list all the Sonic AUs both me and my friend have made and just some I’ve made by myself but I’m not going to go into complete detail on them if you want complete details on a certain one then fine but on this post you’re probably gonna get bits and pieces because there’s too many AU’s

Here we go:

Interview With a Vampire AU: Scourge and Shadow are basically Louis and Lestat and Cream is their adopted daughter

Queen of The Damned AU: Basically the same as the first AU but Scourge is a rock star facing a midlife crises after losing his husband and kid

Good Omens AU: Shadow and Sonic are basically Crowley and Aziraphale but instead of them giving the antichrist to someone else or whatever happened in that show I don’t remember, they kidnap the antichrist baby and raise him in secret.

Fem Shadow and Male Sonic kids AU: Sonic and Shadow have kids. That’s basically it. And Shadow is a girl. They have twins by the way. We had the thought of Fem Shadow thinking she’s infertile but sleeps with Sonic and he end up knocking her up with twins and it’s just humor

Fem Shadow and Male Scourge kids AU: Basically the same as the last one but they have three kids that are age spaced.

Wayne AU: Scourge and Amy basically being that show Wayne where they basically run off with each other.

Spy Family AU: Basically Spy Family with Sonic as Loid, Shadow as Yor and Tails as Anya

Buddy Daddies AU: Basically just Buddy Daddies with Sonic, Shadow and Tails

Gravitation AU; Basically the anime Gravitation with Shadow as a book writer and Sonic as a singer and they fall in love reluctantly

Serial Killer AU 1: Scourge and Sonic are brothers who are serial killers and Shadow and Amy are the detectives trying to figure out the murders while not noticing that the two guys they’re dating are the killers

Serial Killer AU 2: Sonic is a retired serial killer who has settled down and had a family with female shadow and she knows what he used to be but is alright being with him as long as he doesn’t start up again for the sake of their kids but newsflash he didn’t retire and is still secretly doing it

Female shadow and Sonic kids AU 2: Shadow is beloved to have died from childbirth but somebody drugged her in order to fake her death and turn her into basically the winter soldier and after years of grieving his wife Sonic sees a familiar face that shakes him to his core

Female shadow and Sonic kids AU 3 and 4: Where Shadow finds out she’s pregnant with Sonic’s kids and runs off. There’s scourgeamy in this too where Scourge gets Amy pregnant and leaves her because he’s scared of being a shit dad.

Female Shadow and Sonic kid AU 5: Sonic and Shadow’s son gets manipulated into being evil, that’s basically it

Royal AU 1: Prince Sonic is arranged to marry Princess Sally Acorn but instead falls in love with Shadow whose basically the towns village recluse witch

Royal AU 2: Same as Royal AU 1 but Prince Sonic is a yandere

Genderbent Yuri AU: Just good ol Shadow and Sonic being genderbent lesbians

Royal/Monster AU: Sonic is arranged to marry Sally and on his wedding day is kidnapped by female Shadow who’s a demon and falls in love with her instead

The Vampire Dies in No Time AU: Sonic is a vampire hunter who destroys Shadow’s house based on rumors of kidnapping kids and eating them so vampire Shadow moves in with him in his apartment as revenge

Our Flag Means Death AU: Sonic is a rich boy who decides to be a real pirate and set off to seas while meeting and falling in love with the notorious pirate Shadow who is honestly tired of being a pirate

Demon AU: Sonic characters are basically demon princes in hell, my friends OC was Pride, Shadow was Wrath, Scourge was Lust and I don’t remember who else was who but we had a world built and everything and it’s probably our more detailed AUs like this one actually has a lot to it with Tails being a fallen angel, Scourge falling in love with Angel Amy and just the caste system in general

Hero AU: Kinda based this off of Lego Monkie Kid but very loosely so Sonic runs a superhero team and falls in love with Shadow who’s the son of a villain. Basically based their dynamic off of Red Son and MK.

Bound AU: Basically the movie Bound with fem Shadow and fem Sonic. Just them being lesbians who happen to do crime.

Killer AU: Okay this one is actually our most detailed one that I can remember but there’s so much going on this one that it’s hard to explain but like Shadow is being haunted by Scourge no one can see him but him and something something he meets Shadow in a psychiatric ward and shadow can see ghosts and- it’s just a lot I might have to go over the notes on this one with my friend because we have so much like even Tails gets adopted by Sonic and Shadow in this one and there were weddings and kidnappings and it’s just a lot also Sonic has one eye in this au so there’s that too. Just a whole soap opera tbh.

This Day Aria AU: Basically that one My Little Pony Special but Shadow and Sonic are getting married and Sally uses a spell on Sonic to force him into falling in love with her and marrying her while cursing Shadow and sending him away. We had one with Scourge Amy and Fiona too.

Megamind AU: Where Sonic is Megamind Tails is Minion Knuckles is Metro Man, Shadow is Roxanne and Jet is Titan

Demon AU: Shadow is a demon Sonic summons and Sonic offers to feed him souls of criminals as long as Shadow agrees to help him keep the city safe or something I don’t know this one didn’t really get far

Another Serial Killer AU: Female Shadow is a black widow serial killer who marries men for their riches and then kills them before robbing them blind and then meets Sonic and plans to do the same to him but Sonic is actually nice to her and treats her like a person instead of a trophy so she has seconds thought before finally deciding to be happy with him

Vampire and Werewolf AU: Another one that’s one of me and my friends more detailed ones it’s basically Vampire Shadow falling in love with Werewolf Sonic even though their species hate each other, it’s a lot of lore and they even end up adopting Tails who’s a half breed so like it’s a lot to this one that I’m not getting into right here

Corpse Bride AU: Where Shadow is Victoria and Sonic is Victor and Amy is Emily but there’s a happy ending and Amy ends up with Scourge in the end so yeah

James and The Giant Peach AU: It’s exactly what it sounds like James and The Giant Peach with Sonic characters

Pirates of The Caribbean AU: Basically Pirates of The Caribbean AU with Sonic characters don’t ask me who was who because I don’t remember the movie

Parents AU: Sonic and Shadow adopt Tails thinking his parents are out of the picture but they’re not they’re just negligent and accuse Sonic and Shadow of kidnapping their son. This was just a silly one.

Brainwashed Evil Shadow AU: Another one that’s a simple concept that basically turned into a bunch of rambling but it’s exactly what it sounds like

Evil Sonic AU: Sonic basically turns into a justice lords dictator thinking that he’s protecting everyone when he’s really just hurting everyone. This one has a lot of lore to it too and has a secondary au with his and shadows kids and him basically brainwashing their kids into thinking he’s good when he’s keeping shadow prisoner in her own home

And this isn’t even all of them. I still have to scroll through another list so stay tuned for part 2

Tagging @jennrypan because most of these are both of our nonsense ramblings that we only understand

[daddysfangirls-dc]

The Arrangement

CH-9 Lunch with Dick

Damian Wayne x OC! Female

Prev | Next

Syn closed her eyes and leaned back, fidgeting with the jewels Damian had adorned her with. Together, they were waiting for his brother to arrive. It was a fancy restaurant, and while it wasn't empty, their area was secluded, giving the illusion of privacy and few eyes and ears. The sight of the waitresses and waiters peaking around the corner said otherwise. 

"You're late" Syn opened her eyes to see Dick already taking a seat. " This meeting was arranged to adhere to your schedule. The least you could do is be punctual."

"Damian," Syn said, " he's only two minutes late. It's alright."

"No, no. He's right, actually," Dick said " I know how your time in Gotham is limited and cannot be wasted. I'm sorry." Guess that answered the question of whether his family was aware of her new residents or not. 

Damian waved the waiter over for menus. " I was surprised when Damian said you wanted to meet." 

"Yes, well, I don't believe the original dinner gave enough to learn about you all individually. I figured an individual meeting would be better, thus a simple lunch date." she looked around the fancy restaurant with its handlers, sparkle decor, plus seats and curtains. " Well, not here exactly." This was Damian's choice.

"Yeah, really fancy one you picked here, Damian. I would have been fine with a Diner."

"Public diners do not offer the same amount of privacy. " He nodded his head to the near-empty floor and privacy curtains. The peeping staff was gone. No doubt, a manager reprimanded them and reminded them of their place. A waiter came, took their orders and menus, and then closed the curtain. 

"I'm happy to see you back in Gotham. Hopefully, you'll get more this visit than your last."

Syn looked to Damian, who gave a small nod. " Thank you. I'm happy to be back. And actually, I plan to stay a little longer than my last visits."

"Oh, really! That's awesome. Do you have any plans in the city?"

"No, actually. I'm here for Damian." They both looked at him as she spoke he blushed and turned away they chuckled at his sudden shyness. " I want to spend more time with him and get to know his family. Can't do that at a distance."

"Aww."

The waiter came with their food and left, closing the curtains again. 

"SO, out of all our family, why am I honored with the first meetings?"

"Oh, you're not." the look of betrayal on Dick's face should not have been so amusing " Alfred met her before the family dinner. He was quite taken with her." Damian said a bit smugly. 

Dick turned to Syn " Here I thought I was special," he pouted.

"Well, you're still the first sibling I meet outside the house. Points for that, yeah?"

"Don't fuel his ego."

"No, please do," Dick says, fanning his eyelashes; she giggles.

Damian doesn't talk for most of the lunch, letting Syn and Dick have the conversation. She enjoyed the silly stories about their family. Especially the ones about him, where she was full of laughter. He'd take the slight humiliation just to hear her laughter. It was a rare gift for her. By the time dessert came around, she was feeling pain in her guts from all the laughter. Damian ordered for her. 

"Your lives sound so amazing," Syn smiles.

"I'm sure you have some interesting stories as well," Dick said 

"Interesting, yes," she says, a little uncomfortable," but not as entertaining or wholesome?"

"Sorry, I forgot for a moment" DIck forgot who she was.

While she didn't vibe like a regular civilian, she gave more of a vigilante/ hero aura, which made him feel more comfortable with her. But also forget who she truly is and how she was raised. She wasn't another cape and tights. She was a killer. 

"It's okay; I forget sometimes, too." No, she doesn't. She never forgets who she is. She has too many scars, too many bodies, too many nightmares, too much blood. And as sick as it all was, it made her. It was her, She could never forget. The atmosphere changed, and the amusement slowly tricked away to a sobering silence. 

"I remember," Damian began, " Once when we were in the league, your favorite place was the balcony, roof, and any place with height and a view. You always loved the view if it wasn't the sky it was the sanctuary. You named every animal in the sanctuary -"

"Of course, it was a true shame being called 2nd female lion, 3rd female lion, a lion cub. They had personalities; they deserved names... They are doing well, by the way. Leo is thriving." Syn said. 

"She taught me the constellations."

"No, our teacher did. May he rest in peace."

"he taught the stars. You taught them stories. I enjoyed your nighttime stories." Syn stared at him for a moment, then turned to Dick. 

"He used to say he hated my stories, would push me off the roof, and said I talked too loud."

"You did. I'm surprised we never got caught. But looking back they probably just left us lone... I miss stargazing," Damian says, a bit of sadness leaking in his voice. 

"Yeah, Gotham Skies aren't the prettiest. Pollution," Dick says apologetically. 

Gotham was a beautiful city with beautiful skies, but it was very rare to see them. Sadly, Gotham's beauty was constantly covered by pollution, so not everyone could see it. 

"I hear Gotham has a wonderful Observatory -"

"Would you like to go?" Syn turned to him, confused. Dick looked on in glee, watching as the romanize unfolded in front of him. " Would you like to go to the observatory with me?"

"I... Yes, Yes, I would. I'd like that very much," SYn said.

"It's a date," Dick whispered, squealing.

They ignored him. 

[offsidekineticist]

Surely Giliys can’t be problematic in any way, right? (Him for the problematic oc meme)

(Under a cut because of a lot of murder, some vivisections, betrayal, child neglect/abuse, emotional problems, relationship problems and boundary crossing, and a smidgen of sexism).

Giliys is, indeed, an unproblematic angel. Well except that he....

• Is literally a serial killer.

• Is responsible for at least 4 mass casualty incidents.

• Participated in the fatal vivisection of dozens of elderly slaves when he was 9-15 years old (coerced, but it's still worth mentioning, I think)

• Sold his soul for the power to escape slavery and immediately (albeit accidentally) killed every other slave at the manor as well as his master and most of said master's immediate family

• Worked for the Bellflower Network leading enslaved halflings to freedom, but he would also occasionally murder his charges and claim their souls for hell. (Happened every couple of years for decades)

• Has murdered children because "power corrupts," and he thinks children raised as nobility are already irredeemably corrupted by the time they can talk.

• Wiped out an entire noble family (including the kids) in a vengeful rampage over what one branch (and really one member of that branch) did to him. (Although, to be fair, he spared his target's infant son because it probably wasn't "too late" for him.)

• Left a naked, screaming baby on the ground on the edge of a rural village in the middle of the night because he didn't to be there when people got up to see what was going on.

• Dug up corpses to sell to Kaer Maga's less reputable necromancers for his first job.

• Made a lateral career move from graverobber to "cheap assassin for all your affair busting and inheritance stealing needs"

• Got good enough at assassinating that he could get away with killing rich folks and looting their corpses/manors/stagecoaches, so he didn't need jobs anymore.

• Broke into Theo's house after escaping Dottari custody because he needed a place to lie low. Giliys proceeded to attempt to kill Theo, but was already badly injured so he tripped over nothing, landed on his dagger, hit his head, and passed out.

• Acts like an asshole partly to alienate people because his pact makes him dangerous, but mostly because he tends to latch onto anyone who shows him a shred of common decency with an almost frightening intensity and devotion, which has resulted in him being severely let down when he latched onto people who didn't deserve (or want) his loyalty.

• Always thinks of his patron as being female despite his patron not having a physical voice, never revealing its physical appearance to him, never specifying pronouns, and never indicating that it has any gender at all (it doesn't).

• Categorically does not trust tallfolk.

* (Recent retcon of the story of how Theo and Giliys became parents together) adopted Mayhew and Harper without consulting Theo. He convinced himself Theo wouldn't mind because he would be so happy to be a dad again and so proud of Giliys for being ready to take this step.

• Accidentally forced Theo to take over parenting duties after they broke up (AGAIN) because Theo was adamant that he could not be a dad again. Turns out Giliys wasn't actually ready to be a single dad, and it escalated into an emergency.

• Yes, they do end up in couple's therapy, how did you know?

• Goes to hell to rescue the souls he damned for his patron. Which sounds unproblematic until you realize that he did this on impulse without consulting Theo (AGAIN), and Qweck followed him to Hell to make sure he made it back. Meaning Theo was left, without warning, to take care of four kids by himself, without Qweck's help, without the family's primary breadwinner (alchemists make way more than stablehands who moonlight as storytellers), living in an apartment they only had because it was attached to the alchemy shop Giliys was no longer there to run.

• Yes, they do end up in family therapy, how did you know?

But, yeah, other than those very minor hiccups, Giliys is tediously unproblematic.

[fruitmilkshake]

My cats as na'vis

Ok... So.... I guess i'm the only one who likes to imagine this sometimes but; sometimes I like to imagine what kind of na'vi my cats would be.... So... Yeah, this is what this post is about... So, I'll give reasons of why i think these little crazy creatures would be either forest or reef na'vis, ok, Let's start with this;

Killer; Omatikaya

So.... Yeah..... I feel that my cat Killer (The one with the pompompurin hat) would be a forest na'vi, and these are the reasons of why i think that;

So, in my house, there's a backyard that isn't really a backyard, is just a small area where my big sister likes to exercise and where my family likes to make small parties (barbecues, to be especific).

So, when it's not raining, or it's too late, we let our cats go out to have some sun and to have fun outside, and what my cat Killer does to have fun is... Well.... Rub himself in the concrete..... Yeah.

He also likes to hunt bugs, i've seen him hunting flies, cockroaches, I even saw him hunting a f#cking Centipedes 😨(gross).

So, yeah, ah! and he also likes to climb (not as much as Kora, but he does like to climb), even if he's too lazy to do it sometimes (he's Getting older 😮‍💨, BRING ME BACK MY BABY, HE'S ONLY A 1 YEAR OLD CAT! 😭😭)

So, Yeah, those are the reasons why i think my male cat Killer would be a forest na'vi, so... Yeah.

Kora; Metkayina.

Alright, so.. I know what you guys are thinking, but let me explain myself;

Alright, so... Kora, she's a small cat, but also a fierce one, she hates everyone (specially me 🥲)

She's beautiful, of course, that's one of the reasons.

Ah! And the main reason i think why she would be a reef na'vi, is because; everytime we leave the bathroom's Door open, she gets inside and just... Lies inside the bathtub, like.... She loves to be there.

Also, everytime she grooms herself, she gets all wet, but not the normal wet, she gets actually wet, It's really surprising to that much of water come out from a very small cat's tongue (also, everytime she makes biscuits, she leaves the blanket all wet, ew 😮‍💨)

And... Yeah, that's why i think my female cat Kora would be a reef na'vi...

Well, that's all, I was also thinking about a few pets that I had in the past being na'vis, but right now i'm just Focused on my actual na'vi ocs.... Althought it wouldn't be a bad idea to make a story using my cats as na'vis xd. (i also cannot believe that I used the same face claim that I used for Na'ran with Killer)

Well, I hope y'all enjoyed reading this :D

Bye!

[chachadelight]

𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑯𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝑴𝒆 | Part 2

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1 | 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

𝕽𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 & 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: NSFW 18+ , No actual smut but smutty references, violence (against female OC), blood, toxic relationship, swearing, ANGST, No use of Y/N

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Here is part 2!! Big warning for this fic in general is that this relationship starts out very rough. It is angsty and it is toxic and you have been warned it can get abusive. Reader and Tangerine are killers and are inherently bad people who do bad things. So they're not exactly the loving type. So don't be surprised if they fuck with each other physically and mentally.

Tags: @marialikescherries @st1nkyf4rtboy

𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Tangerine x Fem!Assassin!Reader

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 4.3k

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Tangerine doesn't love, he can't. He knows that. So why does she make him feel the way she does and why does it piss him off so much?

𝔹𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕤 & 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤

Walking through the hotel lobby together was probably the least inconspicuous thing that the three of them could be doing and the trio looking out of place was the least that could be said. They were a strange mix of people, with two of them covered in blood, not all belonging to then. Tangerine was utterly dishevelled. His tie long gone, shirt unbuttoned, trousers stained and ruined. Damsel’s dress ripped in several pieces, a fragment of it tied not only around her arm and shoulder but also taking residence wrapped around Tangerine’s solid, injured thigh. All three of them had blank, unimpressed expressions across their face as they crossed the foyer. Clearly tired and done with the night.

The hotel was nice, not overtly extravagant but the kind of place you would need to flash enough cash to get a decent room out of. The dark wooden floors were polished to perfection, a strip of red carpet running down the expanse of the lobby. The furniture was lined with gold and was clearly outdated however would be considered lavish and therefore valuable, adding to the vintage feel of the place as a whole. Walls decorated with old paintings and lined with dark wood bookshelves that were stacked with books dusting with age. If Tangerine wasn’t half dead, he would have made a note to himself to come down here later to take a pick of one the old books.

She sauntered out in front out them having had offered for the twins to come to her safe house inside the Hollyvale Hotel, a place she often frequented when she had a job around the area. Tangerine had a clear limp as he walked, gritting his teeth with every painful step as to keep any noise hinting at his discomfort to come out. Damsel noted the way the receptionist stared at them and the few sporadic bell boys struggling to keep their heads down as they finally reached the front desk, yet she kept her stern, mascara smudged eyes on the receptionist.

Tangerine frowned as he peered between her and the man, not failing to notice his concerned expression and folded hands that failed to hide his subtle shaking. He did not speak however as Damsel reached into the front of her dress, pulling out a sizeable wad of cash between her fingers. She slammed it onto the counter to which the man gently slid it to himself and exchanged it with a single key card with the numbers ‘704’. In a silent exchange she took the card and slipped it between her breasts and began walking away. Tangerine raised a brow, swearing he saw her smirk before he turned to leave.

The elevator ride was quiet as the trio stood in utter silence. Damsel’s face never changed, if she was angry or annoyed, she definitely did not let on. Tangerine wandered if she was still furious at him and Lemon messing with her job and the argument they shared inside the car. He kept his mouth shut however until they all emptied the elevator and made their way to the hotel room.

She slid the key card into the card slot and with a single beep she swung the door open, and they all trailed inside. Both Lemon and Tangerine made their way into the room first, alert, and immediately searching their surroundings to ensure they were safe. The room was larger than Tangerine could have thought. A small hallway that led to a sizeable living room that looked nothing like the lobby downstairs. Much more modern furniture and décor furnishing the room. If he turned towards the left of the living room, that’s where he supposed the bedroom and bathroom would be.

Lemon flicked open the white chiffon curtains at the other end of the apartment across the living room, quickly taking a peak out of the oversized window only to be met with the view of the city below, cars filling the traffic jammed streets.

“Pff, bloody London traffic”. Lemon broke the nauseating silence between the trio, causing both Tangerine and Damsel to look up with frowns.

Lemon looked at the two and raised his brows, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as he let his shoulders slump. “Right well…I’m fuckin’ starvin’ so”. He started making his way back towards the door. “Did you want anything’?” He paused, hand on the handle.

All he was met with was the death stares of the other pair, both silently standing at opposite sides of the room. “Awesome, Tangerine I know what you like and you-“He pointed to Damsel, her brow raising at that. “I feel like you’re a fish n’ chip kinda’ girl”. Before she could even open her mouth to retort Lemon was out the door, making sure to slam it before he left.

Great

She thought to herself. Now she was left with the absolute psycho who has decided to name himself after a fucking fruit. ‘Tangerine’. What kind of stupid fucking name was that? And now as he started to take of his suit jacket and began unbuttoning the vest he still had on, she really started to wonder why she ever offered the twins to come stay at her safe house in the first place. Had it perhaps been the fact there was a moment in between fighting Tangerine she had gotten lost in those ungodly blue eyes and the way he smiled at the fact that she had almost killed him. A man who grinned at her attempt to maim him. Nothing she had ever experienced before.

“Don’t get any blood on the floor. Or do, I don’t give a fuck, you’ll pay for it”. She made a noise similar to that of disgust as she started to unzip the back of her dress, turning away from the man across the room as she let the fabric drop to the floor around her feet. She was left bare save the black pair of panties she donned before attending the gala, and a thigh holster still wrapped securely in place. What she didn’t see whilst turned around was how Tangerine had turned his head at her voice, gaze locked on her bare back as she undressed. His eyes scoured the length of her, taking in the large tattoo that slid along her spine and disappeared into the waistband of her panties. Black words written in what seemed to be Russian, a phrase or sentence of some sort that twitched as her back muscles tensed with every movement. There were scars and faded marks etched along her skin, each one probably carrying its very own story.

Tangerine swallowed, unable to break away as his eyes met with the curve of her arse and led to her toned, muscular legs. A body designed to kill. He thought.

He was finally pulled away from his trance once Damsel had pulled a simple white tank top that she had taken out of a black duffel bag over her torso, promptly covering her bare upper half before turning to face a bewildered Tangerine.

“Like what you see fruit boy?” She called out, fingers clicking in the air as if she were attempting to grab a child’s attention.

Tangerine rolled his eyes as he begun taking off his watch. “Don’t be so full of yourself sweetheart”. He smiled to himself at that, carefully placing the golden watch on the nearest table, his gaze trailing up to the small kitchenette adjacent to the bedroom door.

“You think you’re so irresistible, don’t you?”

“I absolutely do”.

She scoffed; arms crossed over her chest. Her arm was coated with dried blood, she must have been in so much pain, but her expression or demeanour showed naught. “I bet no woman has ever turned you down before”.

Tangerine stood his ground as she started to move closer to him. Those perfect hips swaying the same way they did when he first met her hours prior at the gala. “Sounds accurate to me love, now what’s your point aye?”

She eyed him carefully. Making sure she had enough distance between them as she crept closer to him. She couldn’t quite figure him out completely, but what she did know was that Tangerine was an arsehole. He was narcissistic yet he was smart and was able to make well calculated decisions. He would have had to at some point in his life to be this successful.

“My point is Tangerine…” She cooed, his name slipping over her turn sinfully. “That there must be something about you that isn’t all of this”. She stepped closer now, her arms opening for her to gesture to Tangerine’s figure.

He looked down at himself before looking back up at her with a brow raised. “What’s that sposed’ to mean?”

“Charming, handsome, macho, not a care in this world…” Her voice had dropped an octave now, her eyes darkening and a sinister smirk spreading over her lips. “I can read you like a book Tangerine”. She said his name like that again, like it was the most sinful word she could ever speak.

“Stop saying it like that and what the fuck are you on about?” He was getting annoyed with her now and she could see that in his eyes. The way he started to fiddle about with frustration, unsure of where to keep his hands and arms as she simply stared him down with that sick smile on her still red lips.

“You… a poor little boy. Unwanted by his parents”.

Tangerine’s eyes widened at that, a single eye twitching. How can she know that?

“You stop that now”.

She did the opposite. She knew she was on the right track, and it only egged her on.

“Unloved by everyone. So much so that they simply gave him up, not bothered to deal with him. The burden of an unwanted child”.

“I fucking mean it”. He spoke through gritted teeth.

“Hated even by his foster parents…not just one, but every single one of them”.

By the look in Tangerine’s eyes, she knew she had struck a deep-rooted nerve. How she knew this? Well, she didn’t. Damsel had grown skilled in the art of reading people and when it came to Tangerine, she simply took a guess, and judging by the way he has reacted she knew she was right. She took joy in breaking down his walls, kicking them in until she could wrap her cold little hands around the shrivelled part of him that he hides with his manly bravado. He had fucked up her job and made her look like an amateur. She’d be lucky if she even got paid half of what she had originally asked for.

“Weak and useless and kicked around all his life. You developed this bullshit bravado act and fuck your way through any whore you can get your hands on”.

“I’m fucking warnin’ you for the last time, I swear to god. You’re bein’ a right fuckin’ brat I tell ya’”.

Damsel dared to take one final step closer to him until she was toe to toe with him. She was grinning now, the title ‘brat’ only encouraging her to keep it all up. She took that work with pride, going straight to her head. Gazing up from beneath her lashes she swore she could hear his heart pounding out of his chest, his eyes wide with fury and his breath heavy through his nose.

“I wonder if your brother knows how fucking pathetic you are”.

It was when the mention of Lemon slipped from her mouth that Tangerine final snapped. To bring him into whatever this was; was Tangerine’s last straw. Without hesitation he grabbed her forcefully by the neck, spun around and slammed her against the wall. A gasp left her lips as all the air from her chest escaped her completely from the impact. Tangerine growled angrily as his fingers curled tighter around her throat, the feeling of her struggling under his grasp giving him a small amount of satisfaction.

“I told you to shut your filthy fucking brat mouth”. Damsel reached up, weakly clawing at Tangerine’s hand before gripping his wrist in a desperate attempt to get him to let go. He had taken her so much by surprise that she hadn’t had the strength to fight against him, especially with her injured arm. A small, strained nose left her throat, her face beginning to turn red due to the lack of oxygen, the blood rushing to her head.

“Sorry love what was that? I can’t quite hear you; you’ll have to speak up”.

She looked at him with a desperate gaze as she started to whack at his chest with a closed fist. It did absolutely nothing to sway Tangerine as he kept his hand at her throat. “Not a lot to say now hey?”

Damsel was growing weary from the lack of oxygen, her vision beginning to blur and darkness slowly making its way into her line of sight. She let out one last burst of energy as she brought her knee up, landing it square against Tangerine’s nether regions and causing him to cuss out in agony.

“Fuck!” He immediately let her go as he keeled down in excruciating pain. Damsel had fallen to her knees, gasping for air as she clawed at her throat, choking, and sputtering all over the place, wondering if she’d ever be able to catch her breath properly.

“Fucking bitch!” Tangerine called out as he cupped his balls in one hand whilst the other pointed an accusatory finger.

She gasped one last time, sucking in as much air as she could as she stomped her way over to a suffering Tangerine. “You almost fucking killed me you bastard!” She raised an open palm and landed an Earth-shattering slap to Tangerine’s face that was so out of place it stopped him dead in his tracks.

Tangerine cupped his quickly reddening cheek before slowly turning to look at her. At this moment all he could feel was the intense stinging against his cheek and the burn of her gaze as she stood there staring at him in nothing else but a stained wide beater and black panties. He could feel nothing else. Not even the bullet hole in his thigh was comparing to the way the slap and her stare combined felt in that moment. That hit was the most personal of the night. She had broken him down on purpose, found his weakness and dissected him like a demented child with a rat’s corpse. Yet here he was, almost guilty that he had laid a hand on her.

“You’re just like every other fucking man out there”. She stared at him as if he were the most monstrous being on the planet and for some reason this hurt him. There had been countless times men and women alike had looked at him like this but for some reason coming from her it felt terrible. Tangerine noticed fresh blood trickling down her arm, droplets forming at her fingertips and threatening to fall at any point. The wounds had obviously opened up again during the struggle.

“You’re bleeding”. His voice was soft. Way softer than either himself or Damsel could expect. Tangerine lowered his hand from his face and locked eyes with her once more, finding it hard to keep eye contact.

“No fucking shit”.

He frowned slightly as he reached towards her. She immediately slapped his arm away, refusing to let him touch her. “Don’t you fucking touch me”.

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

He didn’t listen to her, quickly grabbing a hold of her wrists and forcing her to stand still. Damsel’s face twisted with utter distaste to this and tried to fight his hold. To no avail he held her in place.

“Stop being a brat and just stand fucking still and let me help you”. His voice dropped multiple octaves, a gravel in his tone as his fingers tightened around her wrists. Her eyes blew wide open at his command, pure rage still boiling inside her but something else lay within her for a sudden chill to surge through her body, prompting her to still within an instant. She searched his gaze for some sort of explanation for his sudden need to heal her, but she couldn’t find a single hint anywhere within those blue eyes. So, she stopped struggling, her tense body relaxing in an instant.

“Are you going to let me help you?” He asked, eyes never leaving her own as she flicked through every racing thought in her head. When she took too long, he clicked his tongue and shook her by the wrists. “Are you!?”

All she could do was nod her head softly once, unable to form any other words as Tangerine did nothing after that but begin leading her to the bedroom, through to the ensuite bathroom. His grip had lessened on her wrists at this point as they both entered the dimly lit room.

He had let go of her wrists long enough to enable her to move towards the sink, looking up at the mirror for a moment and catching a glimpse of him in the reflection. She paused; eyes boring into his own. What did she do wrong for her to run into him? Everything was going her way at every moment and there wasn’t a single day or job where things didn’t go her way. Her fingers curled against the edge of the sink, her gaze flicking to the way her blood stained the porcelain. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to stitch her own wounds yet the thought of him helping her, seeing her at one of her most vulnerable states was still unbearable after what he had just done to her. She had her fair share of terrible men in her life, far too many to count. Far too many stories she’d rather not share.

“Turn around”. He spoke suddenly, pulling her from her thought. She did as he asked, not bothering to speak back as she leaned herself against the sink, her gaze refusing to meet his again. “Where’s your first aid?” She pointed to the cabinet behind him to which he opened and took out a dark green box. Tangerine let out a puff through is nose as he laid out the box’s contents, sifting through before he finally pulled out the needle and thread.

He noticed the way she refused to look at him now and he frowned, knowing well what had caused her to do so. He felt somewhat guilty about it however remained indignant at the way she had spoken about him moments prior. Perhaps she didn’t deserve to be choked out for it but that is how Tangerine operated. He didn’t really have a place inside him for tenderness or patience, and that meant creating meaningful relationships was not his forte. Excluding with his brother.

Tangerine reached up slowly to begin unravelling the soiled fabric from Damsel’s arm, careful to pull slowly as some of the blood had dried and crusted to her skin. He paused for a moment when she flinched, his gaze flicking up to her to see her reaction. When she didn’t say or do anything he continued until both the bullet wound and cut were visible to him. He examined her arm briefly. They were sizeable and deep wounds and no doubt needed multiple stitches.

“Jesus…really did a number on you didn’t I”. She let out a breath from her nose that sounded of amusement, yet she still refused to look at him. “This is going to hurt love”.

“Shut the fuck up and sew me up arsehole”. She spat impatiently.

Tangerine didn’t react to her outburst and took it as his signal to get things going. He brought the needle up to her arm and used one hand to prop under it to keep her steady. Lining up the point of the needle with her cut first, he gently but purposefully pushed it into her skin. Damsel hissed at the first push of the needle, screwing her eyes shut and squeezing the edge of the sink. The pain was unpleasant but not unfamiliar. The countless scars across her skin reminded her of that every day.

“Sorry”. His voice was soft as he made the second stitch, the needle pushing through a particularly sensitive spot that caused her to suddenly latch onto the white shirt he still had on, gripping the fabric roughly as to cope with the pain.

“Fuck! Gentle…!” Tangerine looked up to the spot she had clung onto, a small smile on his lips as he continued to sew up the wound, he had been guilty of.

“What? Don’t like it a little rough sometimes?” He grinned at her and only became more prideful once she snapped her eyes to him angrily. He had gotten her to look at him.

She noticed the look on his face and scoffed, a smile matching his growing on her face. “Always do”. Tangerine kept his smirk and shook his head at her.  He tied off the last stitch, yet he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. The way she looked back at him now, eye to eye. They were so close, and he had only just realised it then.  

“You’re a fuckin’ strange one love”. Tangerine kept his voice low, his hand still wrapped around her arm gently. He watched her smile again and something inside him churned. She had a beautiful smile he thought. Not as wicked as he once thought before.

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

He smiled at her like she was beautiful, and it made her feel ill. No one usually smiled at her like that unless they were sleazy men wanting her purely for her body and nothing else. Perhaps Tangerine could be the same, but the way his fingers gripped at her skin and how gently he sewed up her wounds told a different story. There was something so insanely intimate about this interaction that was so much more than even if he had her pressed to a wall and fucked her senseless. Damsel grimaced at the thought of it. The last thing she could ever need is to be cared about or care for anyone else. There was no room for it in her line of work. Not to mention she had tried it once before, and what did she get out of it? Nothing but heartbreak and a giant scar on her leg to prove it.

Yet here he was, inches from her body. His chest was pressed against her side, his body firm against her. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his musk and it was all so nauseating. Maybe it was the blood loss, but her senses were in an overdrive at him being so close to her. He was still in his shirt but it was heavily unbuttoned now, revealing the tanned chest beneath. Soft curls of hair decorating his muscled chest and a gold pendant swaying temptingly against his skin. No doubt a piece of great importance to him that she knew he would never confide in her. Everything within her screamed and clawed out to tell her to get away. Yet she remained. Some voice telling her to stay. The same voice who had probably told the twins to come back with her. She hadn’t even felt him stitch her bullet wound to the point he had finished and was now locking eyes with her once more.

They stood in silence. He was hunched over slightly, and this caused their faces to remain only inches apart. “You should shower”. His breath fanned across her face, her eyes fluttering softly at his tone.

“I’m sure you’d enjoy that”. She retorted, her sarcasm failing to reach her expression. The dazed look on her face betraying her.

He smirked and stood up straight, pulling her briefly from her haze. “Up”. She listened with only a moment of hesitation; black stained eyes looking up at him as he pulled the tank top from her gently. She stood bare in front of him then and she didn’t miss how his gaze fell onto the sight of her bare breasts. He half expected him to jump her there, yet he didn’t. Instead, he spun around and turned the shower on, his hand floating beneath the stream of water until he deemed the temperature appropriately warm. Turning back around he stepped closer to her again, the smell of him brining yet another wave of nausea to her. Tangerine leaned down until his lips pressed against her ear causing her eyes to flutter shut once more.

“Get in before I change my mind and get in with you”. With that he pulled away from her and headed for the door, leaving her alone without looking back.

Damsel opened her eyes and watched him leave, her chest rising and falling heavily. She listened to the way her heart thrummed and sneered. Fucker. As if she would have let him.

Yet she would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about it. But she knew that it would have been the worst idea.

....................................................................................................................

Tangerine let out the biggest breath as he closed the bathroom door, unaware of just how hard he had been holding it in the whole time he had been with her. The intimacy of the whole interaction, how close he had gotten to her. The feel of her skin against his own, burning every inch of him. The swell of her breasts and the look in her eyes as she watched his every move had him on fire. To say he was turned on was putting it in the mildest way possible. He could feel himself straining uncomfortably against his trousers and started to wonder if he should barge back in and take her right there against the shower wall. The mere thought of it had him twitching, aching horrifically to find out how she might feel wrapped around him. How warm her walls must be, how wild and lustfully she could ride him if he could just get his hands on her.

He was going to need a cold shower.

Tangerine advised himself against it, however. Initiating that with her would undeniably end badly. Usually, he would never turn down the opportunity to fuck a gorgeous woman however this one was different. Something told him this was not the last time he was going to see her. Not because they may cross paths but because Tangerine knew he would subconsciously try to see her again. And that in itself was a very, very bad thing.

[sage-nebula]

💫✨ people I’d like to get to know better ✨💫

thanks for the tag @caffernnn !!

last song i listened to: So I'm actually going to plug three songs that I've been absolutely obsessed with over the past weekend and have been listening on repeat as a result, all by the same artist -- Lydia the Bard, over on YouTube.

Lydia makes villain songs for the Disney princesses (among other Disney female characters). Her first handful were just lower pitched versions of their songs (or songs from their movies), but as she progressed she started changing lyrics, and now she's really grown and is making the songs more and more unique, culminating in finally creating a wholly unique villain song for Tinkerbell, which just came out and is my favorite.

"Fall Little Wendy Bird Fall" recontextualizes Tinkerbell's animosity toward Wendy. In this version, Tinkerbell and the other fairies of Pixie Hollow brought Peter Pan and the other Lost Boys there because, due to the nature of fairies' existence depending on humans believing in them, fairies were dying all around them as humans grew up and stopped believing. So the only way to secure their own lives was to make sure their humans never grew up. But Wendy threatens that by making Peter and the others long for human lives. Therefore, Tinkerbell sees her as a threat who must be taken out to save her own and her friends' lives. Not only does this song make Tinkerbell a far more compelling character, but the vocal performance is stunning, and the animatic that goes with it is amazing as well. Literally obsessed.

The other two I'm obsessed with are Meg's (where Hercules betrayed her as well & she kills Hades & takes his power) and Isabela's (where Mirabel doesn't get to her in time, and her resentment over the arranged marriage drives her to snap). Meg's is a bop and has a killer line in "In time they'll say I was cruel 'cause I cared", and I'm sorely tempted to use her final look at the end of the animatic as my Halloween costume this year. Meanwhile, Isabela's is also killer musically of course, and has equally fire lines like, "What could you possibly expect was gonna happen when you made me? / Tend to a plant with poison and expect a flower, are you crazy?" They're both just so good.

favorite color: Purple! Specifically cool shades, and especially cool shades that are more pastel, mixed with grey. I also like blues and greens that are faded like that, too.

currently watching: A little while ago I had started rewatching Sabrina the Teenage Witch since I hadn't watched it since middle school, but once I got to season four it got . . . bad . . . and it has continued to be bad . . . so I've kind of stopped watching lmao. I've lately been rewatching Jenny Nicholson's videos, but I finished that, so now I've gone back to rewatching Jenna Marbles videos. Oh, and I really love this series on YouTube called Bistro Huddy! It's hilarious, and Drew (the guy who portrays all the characters) is fantastic, he really melts into the roles so you almost forget it's one guy doing all of them. Highly recommend checking it out.

spicy/savory/sweet: Honestly depends on my mood, but I do have a strong sweet tooth, so honestly it's hard to go wrong by offering me ice cream or a cookie or something similar.

relationship status: Currently dating the lovely @skimmingthesurfaces 💜 She's actually going to be here this weekend for my birthday! (My birthday is on Tuesday, so I'm very blessed to have her with me for the whole weekend.)

current obsession(s): Aside from the songs mentioned above, I've been really thinking about one OC in particular of mine, and her story / novel . . . she's a character that I first created when I was about 13 or so, and has gone through a lot of development since then, but I've been fleshing out a lot more of her story and how she fits into this new original world I've created (since she was originally created for a Legend of Zelda role play, albeit even back then she came from a country outside of Hyrule). I really love and cherish her a lot, even though most other characters think she fulfills the "girl who is stupid" role in the adventuring party, and on some level she also believes this about herself, and to be fair she's not academically gifted at all, but to be even more fair the school and in fact overall society she was raised in was extraordinarily fucked up and no one actually tried to teach her in a way that would help her learn and in fact learning disabilities were seen as personal failings and --

Ahem. Anyway. I have long since described her as "pure of heart, dumb of ass," and in many ways she is, but for the second half, she's not in the way most everyone around her growing up assumed she was (including herself), or like, even if she is it wasn't 100% her fault (like yeah she slept in class and that was on her, but also she wasn't going to learn whether she was awake or not because her teachers were not going to be able to teach her the material because it was a One Size Fits All approach to teaching even when it really wasn't -- and that's only scratching the surface of the problems in her school / culture, it's a huge systemic thing). But yeah I've just been thinking about her a lot. Karin's my girl and I love her lots.

[eustasskidagenda]

☆guidelines for requests 

So, first thing first, before sending a request, please check if my requests are open or not. The current status will always be on my header description. 

☆generals:

When requesting,please, show some kindness, I'm not a bot, a "hello" and "thank you" are always nice.

My current job is, actually, being a writer as a living. So I might not be able to immediately complete your requests, I'm doing this on my free time and sometimes I’m not in the mood to "work" (write) again.

I do not guarantee to write the requests you're sending to me, it will depends on my inspiration.

English is not my first language. Forgive me for the weird sentences you may cross on my writings here. 

I'll gladly accept both sfw and n/sfw requests. But, N/SFW requests must be off anon and are not allowed for the minor/ageless blog. However, I understand if you want to keep your privacy. If you want your nsfw request to be anon, please, just precise you want to stay anon on your request and I won't show your name when I post. ♡ ⇢ I absolutely love writing : hurt and comfort, fluff and funny, smut&kinks. Minors, please DNI with my +18 content or I’ll have to block you.

Fandom : I only do One Piece prompts for now. Consider I'm always caught up in the manga and in the anime. So don't be afraid to spoil me when you request. If the request contains a huge spoiler, then, I'll use this specific tag : #op spoilers. Block it, if you don't want to see that content.  Reader : gender neutral, AFAB reader, AMAB reader, female reader, male reader, transgender reader, non-binary reader. MM, FF and MF pairings are all fine for me. However, I won’t write for male reader with female character. And I only write character x character for the ship I personally enjoy. ⇢ By default, I'll use a gender neutral reader for requests. If you want a specific reader, please, precise the gender! ⇢ Regarding the apparence, I want to keep the reader as neutral as possible. But I can do some exceptions, if it's still vague enough to include a large groupe of people. For exemple : chubby reader, black reader etc. I do not accept requests based on an OC, except for a giveaway or as a winner prize. Age : only 18+ characters Type of post :  one shot (over 1,000 words), drabbles (under 500 words), headcanons (multiples characters, bucket list) ⇢ One Shot : 1 character per request. Please, give me some details and ideas of things you want to read in the OS. And if you request for a smut os, I need to know what kind of smut you're looking for, kinks included ⇢ Drabbles : 3 characters per request, or less. again, please, give me some details or precisions, I need to understand clearly what you're looking for. ⇢ Headcanons : 5 characters per request, or less. ⇢ Group headcanons : how the characters would react in a situation. a small paragraph per type of reaction, with the list of all the suitable characters

☆characters I'll write for:

⇢ my fav characters are in bold

⇢ i do not write smut or romantic prompt with Minks or non-human like character.

Bartolomeo, Buggy, Cavendish, Corazon, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Eustass Kid, Hawkins, Izou, Kaku, Katakuri, Killer, King, Kiku, Kuzan, Luffy (only sfw prompts with Luffy), Marco, Mihawk, Nami, Paulie, Portgas D. Ace, Rob Lucci, Robin, Roronoa Zoro, Sabo, Sanji, Shanks, Smoker, Trafalgar Law, Usopp, X Drake, Yamato (he/him) 

Characters I won't write for: Blackbeard and Blackbeard crew, Brook, Roger, Kin'emon, Kanjuro, Franky, Benn, Akainu, Kizaru, Apoo (it doesn’t necessarily means that I dislike those characters, just that I’m not comfortable writing for them. No offense if your favorite one is listed here)

⇢ if the character you would like is not on one of those lists, just send your request and I'll let you know.

☆I don't accept requests with:

dub con ; rape, even as a consensual play ; stepcest/incest kink ; cheating ; abuse ; pregnancy ; somnophilia, even consensual ; daddy/mommy/and any kind of family kink ; water sport, scat; hateful and religious topic ; self-harm, suicidal intentions.  ⇢ Please, take care of you and your mental health if you struggle with that kind of thoughts, everything will be alright, but I know it can be hard sometimes. You're enough and you're loved. ♡ ⇢ Dysphoria (I don't know enough about this to provide an accurate text, nothing personal and you have all my support if you're facing dysphoria)

☆some kinks idea i can write for:

⇢ if you're unsure about a kink, feel free to ask ⇢ some of my fav are in bold 69, anal sex, aphrodisiac, begging, biting, blindfolds, body worship, bondage, breeding kink, choking, clothed sex, cockwarming, creampie, creative use of Devil Fruit, cum play, dacryphilia (nothing with dubious consent), deep throat, degradation, dirty talk, discipline, dom/sub dynamic, double penetration, dry humping, face sitting, face fucking, fingering, femdom, food play, gagging, gloves, group sex, hair pulling, handjob, hickeys, lingerie, loss of virginity, massage, mirror sex, nipple play, oral sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, panty stuffing (mouth), pegging, praises, public sex, rimming, roleplay, rough sex, sensory depravation, size kink, soft sex, spanking, squirting, striptease, teasing, temperature play, thigh fucking, thigh riding, toys, vaginal sex, wax play