#I am so so intrigued about Dark Night Light... what are you two up to...

[thesilliestofgals]

Ok I'm really hoping we get an episode with Kaoru, Michiru, Saki, and Mai soon because I need answers

[tumbleweed-run]

Want

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 7: virginity

“There you are, I was wondering if you’d changed your mind,” Gale tried to make sound light, a little joke between the two of you but you could hear the undercurrent of tension in his words. 

“I’m sorry,” you said earnestly, letting your hand rest on his shoulder as you sat. “I got caught up asking Wyll something.”

That was a lie, and one you felt a little guilty telling him, but the real reason you were delayed was a bit more embarrassing. You’d been sitting by the fire going over conversations in your head. Or rather, how to have a very specific conversation. One you still weren’t exactly sure how to approach. 

The truth of the matter was, physically you were a virgin. Even though you’d had mind-blowing, life-changing, astral sex with Gale just before fighting Ketheric your body was still very much the virgin it had been before that night. 

Gale, of course, didn’t know that fact. It wasn’t something you advertised to potential suitors. 

It wasn’t that you were some prudish untouchable. You’d had your fair share of odd groping as a teen (and adult) and were intimately familiar with your own body. You’d just never had actual sex using your body. 

That was an odd distinction to have to make.

You weren’t ashamed of it, it was just something that didn’t happen. Some people never had the opportunity to try certain foods or go certain places, you’d never had the opportunity to have sex. Or rather, you had the chance a few times, but the partners were decidedly less than ideal. 

You realized that keeping this fact from Gale was becoming increasingly like keeping a secret. You needed to tell him, and you needed to do it before he decided to take advantage of the relative quiet of the journey from the Shadowlands to Baldur’s Gate. 

“You seem quiet,” Gale prodded, bumping his shoulder into yours. 

“A lot on my mind,” you admitted vaguely. You bumped your shoulder into his but stayed there, leaning into his warmth. 

Gale hummed in agreement. “It’s odd this calm before the proverbial storm.” 

You felt him press a kiss into your hair. 

“I need to tell you something, but you can’t make a big deal about it,” you said eventually after allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of the moment. 

You felt Gale’s body stiffen, no doubt anticipating the worst kind of confession. Though at this point you weren’t sure what Gale would consider the the worst.

“Alright, I’m intrigued,” He said very neutrally. 

You took a deep breath and sat up right, giving yourself the space for this. “Just to be clear, that night, our bodies weren’t actually… involved.” You were hopeful maybe you were wrong and you’d just missed all the awkwardness because you’re mind was literally somewhere else. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gale’s head cock to the side. “Ah no, they weren’t,” he agreed, unknowingly dashing your hopes, “it looks a bit strange to an outsider, I admit, but alas our corporeal selves were exactly where we left them.”

“Why?” He tacked on after a pause. 

“Well, that would mean that I’m still technically a virgin.” You made your admission rather quickly, words bumping into one another as you spat it out, hoping to get this odd conversation out of the way. 

Gale was unusually quiet and when you finally turned your head to look at him you saw about a thousand emotions cross his face. 

“You’re a…” he trailed off.

You waited.

“Virgin?” his voice had risen almost comically. 

“Yes,” you confirmed.

“But you’re-”

“Yes, I know how old I am,” you interrupted rolling your eyes at him. 

“You mean you’ve never…?” Another incomplete sentence from your usually verbose wizard. 

“That would be what that means, yes,” you confirmed… again. 

You sighed and turned your body so you could look at Gale easily. “It’s not that I’m some innocent. I’ve had the odd kissing session in a dark room, its just never gone any farther. Not to mention I’m concerningly familiar with my own hand and also that one odd pillow in my…”

You trailed off as you watched Gale’s eyes darken. He cleared his throat and shifted. Idly you wondered which of those revelations had affected him so.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded almost hurt. 

“It never came up,” you admitted, “first, you were at risk of blowing us all up and then we ended up having sex astrally. I would have told you if we’d been… physically involved,” you assured him, fighting with yourself as to how exactly word things. 

Gale seemed to absorb this information with acceptance. “Well I guess that means my plans for tonight are off the table.”

“What? Why?” You sounded genuinely alarmed, surprising even yourself. 

Gale smiled a small, exasperated thing. “My love, I can’t have you bedded properly for the first time in some wood in the middle of nowhere.”

“You absolutely can,” you insisted.

He chuckled and took your hand. Normally you would have seen a similar move as patronizing but there was nothing but love and adoration shining from Gale’s eyes. “We can be together astrally, again.”

“No,” you huffed pulling your hand away, growing frustrated. This wasn’t why you’d told him. “I want you,” you insisted, “I want you, for real. Here.”

Gale shook his head again, “but you deserve-”

“Gale,” you moved up onto your knees so you could hold his face between your hands, “this is about what I want. And what I want is your actual physical cock inside of me, here in this clearing. Tonight, preferably.”

Whatever Gale had been expecting, that confession wasn’t it. His mouth dropped open. 

“Are you sure?” He asked eventually. 

You nodded, vigorously, “yes.”

“Then I will give you what you want.”

You leaned forward and kissed him. Gale gathered an arm around your waist and laid backward, pulling you with him. You laid across his chest, eagerly allowing yourself to get lost in kissing him. 

You shifted, slotting your body between his legs. Gale groaned when your thighs brushed against his cock, already half-hard. Taking advantage, you pressed your tongue between his lips. His hands slid down your back to your ass, cupping it he pulled you up and closer. 

“How many young lads did you lead into dark corners, only to leave them with their hopes dashed?” Gale teased when you two finally separated for air. 

You laughed. “I never said I left them unfulfilled.”

Gale shook his head with an amused smile. “I assure you every lad who left without bedding you was unfulfilled in some regard.”

“I think,” you smoothed a hand against his chest, “you think too highly of me.”

“Not possible,” Gale reassured. His expression changed as you watched, from playful to something more sincere. 

“What have you done with others?” He asked all of a sudden. 

Now, you felt you might be a little offended. “Gale, I wasn’t saying that-”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand cocks in your mouth. Confused, perhaps, but I want to know specifically what has been done to you that hasn’t come from your own hand… or pillow I suppose.”

“Oh,” you felt a little sheepish now.

With out warning his hands slid to your thighs and he lifted you, pulling your legs apart, forcing you to straddle him. You could feel his cock pressing against your core. You fought down the urge to grind against it. 

“Has anyone ever made you come with their mouth?” Gale asked then.

You shook your head, a warmth crawling down your neck at the thought. 

“Their fingers?” He continued. 

Again, you shook your head. “Twice I've had someone’s hand down my pants,” you admitted, “but it was awkward and they never really did much.”

“Maybe you’re lucky,” Gale mused, “boys tend not to think beyond their own needs.”

“And men are any different?” You challenged. 

Gale’s eyes darkened as he looked at you now. “Not all, but this one, yes. Your needs are mine.” He rolled his hips up then, grinding his cock against you. 

“Oh,” the sound felt like it was punched out of you. Happily, you rocked your hips back down against him. 

Gale’s hands went to your hips, holding you from doing anything further. You tried to roll them again and frowned when he wouldn’t let you. 

“I promise I will pay as much attention to your pretty cunt as you can stand,” he started, “but I need you to promise you’ll stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable.”

There was an edge to his final words, and you knew anything less than an agreement that he’d leave you untouched. 

“I promise,” you repeated. 

“Good girl,” He rewarded, his words shooting straight to your core. You absolutely did not look at him in an attempt to hide that knowledge from him. His chuckle let you know it had been unsuccessful. 

He released your hips and you ground down on him once more. 

In a testament to Gale’s self-control, or perhaps his determination, his hands moved to the ties of your trousers. When he’d finished opening them, he rolled you both so he was above you. He sat back on his legs and slid backward before working to shimmy your bottoms off before discarding them in a pile nearby.

He gently pushed your legs and you laid back, allowing him to bend your knees. He gently pushed at them so they dropped to the side. You shivered both from the complete exposure of the position he’d put you in and also from missing his warmth on you. 

“Fingers or mouth?” Gale asked, hands sliding down your thighs, ever closer to where you truly wanted them. 

“I believe I said cock,” you retorted. 

A light pinch was delivered to your thigh and you jumped, startled but not actually in pain. “Soon,” Gale promised, “for now, though, those are your options.”

“Mouth,” you answered with almost no hesitation.

Above you, Gale smiled, apparently pleased with your answer. “Do you want anything? A pillow,” he asked rather than doing what you’d asked for. 

“I want,” you answered a bit snappier than you’d meant, “for you to touch me.”

“Some day, I will have you without risk of interruption.” Gale wasn’t really talking to you it seemed. Still, you wondered what he meant by that. You hoped something wicked. 

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his fingers spread you open even further. You were about to remind him you’d said mouth, unable to resist the urge to push against whatever side of him you were seeing, when you felt his breath hot against you. That urge fled, just as quickly as your thoughts. 

You cried out when he swiped his tongue between your folds. Quickly you pulled your arm across your mouth, aware the camp wasn’t too far off. Gale didn’t seem at all concerned though as he began tracing maddening paths with the tip of his tongue. 

Somehow he was touching you where you wanted and yet seeming to avoid it all together. A growl ripped out of you in frustration and you tried to slide down closer to his mouth. An arm flew across your hips quickly, preventing you from moving anywhere. You were about to say something, beg even, when his tongue finally found your clit. You cried out, free hand threading itself in Gale’s hair. If you couldn’t move closer to him, you could at least pin him to you. He didn’t seem too bothered by this thought, tracing his tongue down you again, this time pressing it inside of you. 

“Shit,” you cursed hips ineffectively trying to grind down again. 

Gale, in some act of benevolence or maybe because he was enjoying your reactions, move his arm from across your hips. He instead pushed his hand under your ass forcing you to tilt your hips up towards him. He moved his attention back to your clit. You felt the walls of your pussy begin pulsing around nothing and you whimpered.

“Fingers,” you gasped, pulling your arm from your face. 

Gale either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you. A few more seconds of attention to your clit and then his teeth gently nipped against it. 

“Fuck,” you cried out as your orgasm hit, once again pulling Gale against you. You couldn’t help but shamelessly grind against his face as you came. 

He stayed there, tongue licking broad stripes up and down your center until you stilled. Only then did he gently disentangle your hands from his hair and sit up.

He knelt between your still-spread legs, a hand gently cupping your cunt. He was watching you closely, pleased with whatever he saw he gently began kneading against you. 

“Will you fuck me now?” You asked unable to help the way your hips chase up at the contact. 

He shook his head. Briefly, you were mesmerized by the way his beard, glistening with your wetness, reflected the light. 

“Why not?” You whined, which wasn’t exactly how you’d meant to say that. 

Gale chuckled before leaning over you to press a kiss on your lips. You could smell yourself on him, taste it even when he pulled away. Far from being turned off by that fact you found yourself wanting to kiss him again. 

“Fingers, first,” he said and demonstratively slipped a finger beneath your folds to press against your entrance. 

He easily pressed the finger into you, finding no resistance when he did. Gently he began pressing it in and out, every time he ground the heel of his palm against your clit until your hips were rolling with his movement. 

His eyes never left your face when he began pressing a second finger into you. You nodded, trying to pull them deeper but he only continued pressing the new digit into at a slow pace. 

“Gods,” you moaned when his fingers were pressed into you completely. 

“Not quite,” he answered with a wry smile. 

You were quickly distracted when you realized he was refusing to move his fingers in you. He was just grinding his hand to your clit, and while it felt amazing it wasn’t what you wanted. 

“Gale,” you whined rolling your hips in an effort to get some movement inside of you. 

That was his aim, apparently. Gale held his hand still and allowed you to fuck yourself on his fingers. You grew brazen, chasing after the grinding sensation as well with a roll of your hips. He watched you with a scrutiny that had your body flushing. Gradually you realized he had begun gently scissoring his fingers inside of you, pressing you open wider each time you pulled away from them. 

His fingers were thick and you felt yourself clench around them at the thought of what he’d (hopefully) be replacing them with. You realized, in a passing thought, that you’d struggle to watch his spell casting in a normal way ever again. 

You felt another orgasm building and with great effort stilled your own hips. 

“Please,” you groaned out, “I want you inside me. Please, I’m ready,” you were shamelessly begging. 

“Yes,” Gale agreed before finally thrust his fingers in and out of you a few times and then with drawing them entirely. 

He was quick about removing his own trousers. His cock sprung free and slapped against his stomach, in the moonlight you could make out a bead of precum on the tip.

Your mouth watered. 

Gale didn’t allow your thought to wander any further before settling between your legs. One hand hooked around the back of a thigh and hiked up your leg against him. 

“Tell me if this hurts, despite what you’ve heard it doesn’t have to,” he said leaning over you, bracing himself with his free arm. 

You would rather die, you realized as you nodded a lie to him. 

The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, but he didn’t move any further. It appeared he’d also put you in a position where he could keep you from pushing down on it. You wondered if it was forethought or simply a coincidence. 

When he pressed inside your head collapsed fully against the ground. He was certainly bigger than anything that had been inside you before, his thick fingers included. Painstakingly Gale began pressing into you. His movements were slow and controlled, making sure to keep you immobile. The sensation was uncomfortable but not painful as he stretched you even further. 

You couldn’t help but be grateful, now, for his refusal to fuck you immediately.

When he bottomed out, hips pinned against yours, he groaned head dropping forward. You felt the muscle of his thigh tremble against yours. You were secretly pleased as he struggled to maintain his composure. 

You tried to wait him out, trust him as he had only thought of you so far, but your patience only extended so far. Experimentally you clenched around his cock. 

“Shit,” he groaned, hips stuttering as he restrained a thrust. 

“Please,” you whispered once again fluttering around him, “please.”

Gale pulled out only a little before slowly thrusting into you. It wasn’t much but your eyes rolled back. 

He kept it that way, small shallow thrusts until there was almost no resistance when he did. Then, he began working back further before thrusting into you. He was grunting with each thrust, head hanging low so his forehead was resting against your chest. 

“Gale,” you whined unable to take the coddling much longer. 

It seemed his restraint was hanging on by a thread because his hips snapped up against yours, much harder than any previous movement. 

“Yes,” you cried out in response. 

Gale began truly fucking you then. He was mumbling something against you but the sound of your skin slapping against one another was drowning him out. Your own hips were moving now, too, the hand on your thigh had loosed so he was not longer holding you still. 

“Touch yourself,” he said, voice strained, finally loud enough for you to hear. 

You were able to slide a hand between the two of you. Instead of touching yourself right away you pushed your finger further down enjoying the sensation of the slide of his cock in and out of you. 

Abruptly Gale pushed up so he was sitting back on his knees. Both hands sliding under your hips in order to tilt you up so he never slid fully from inside of you. 

“Now, please,” he groaned out and you realized he was holding back his own orgasm. 

Hurriedly you found your clit with your fingers, this new position making it easier. You rubbed quickly and efficiently in a way you’d long learned would bring you off. 

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” Gale babbled above you. “Come for me, I want to see your face this time.”

It was his words more than your fingers that pushed you over the edge. You whimpered and he began thrusting harder as you squeezed around him. 

Gale came with a shout, eyes screwing shut. He pinned your hips together once more as he spilled inside of you. He rode out his own orgasm like that, hips rolling slightly with each pulse. Once he was done, Gale gently lowered your hips back to the ground, allowing himself to slip out of you.

You extended your hand up to him and when he took it you pulled him down against your chest.

“Next time I think I want to ride you,” you told him after a moment of quiet. 

Gale laughed before tilting his head up to capture your lips in a kiss. 

[freedomfireflies]

Always*

Summary: The fifth and final part to 404*

The one with car crashes and closet sex.

Word Count: 4.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Arrogant Twat: Playing hooky, that’s not like you

Arrogant Twat: You’re not that cool

Arrogant Twat: I can see you reading my messages you know

Arrogant Twat: So if you’re ignoring me, it’s not working

Arrogant Twat: …okay seriously this is really fucking childish, are you really not gonna come to work just because I won’t fuck you?

Arrogant Twat: It’s been three days, Princess, you can’t hide from me forever

You: You are so fucking annoying, I am not hiding from you, I’m SICK

You: This may come as a surprise, but my world does not revolve around you or your cock

You: So if you don’t mind, I need to go throw up

Tossing your phone down onto the bed, you rush into the bathroom to grasp onto the sink and brace yourself over the porcelain. Silently willing your body to comply, to keep the fluids down. You don’t want to be sick, but thinking about Harry always tends to make you.

You smirk to yourself at the joke before running your hands under the cold stream of water to gently rinse off your face. Needing to feel something cool against your feverish skin before you slink back to bed.

Truth be told, you don’t mind the break from work. And from Harry, specifically. Sure, you understand why he ended things. And you aren’t exactly upset about it, seeing as he wasn’t really that great of company to keep.

But he’s angry. You know he’s angry, and that’s why he claimed he wanted to stop. And you feel guilty over having pushed him there, you do. After all, you knew better. You two don’t talk about anything personal. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry. You don’t show any sort of emotion or understanding. 

You broke the one rule. And truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how to face him now.

Overcome with fatigue, you slump back down onto your bed, and disappear beneath the covers. Pulling them up to your chin as a shiver rolls down your sweaty skin, all the way to your fuzzy sock-covered toes. 

You try to watch some television to get your mind off the pain and congestion but find yourself growing sleepier with each quippy remark from Chandler Bing.

And before you know it, you’re out like a light.

The sharp chime of your cellphone is what wakes you. Pulling you from a rather odd dream as you groggily roll over and attempt to find the noise. 

It’s a text message, followed shortly after by another. And once you manage to sit up and rub the sandman from your eyes, you see who it’s from.

Arrogant Twat: Open your door

Arrogant Twat: And hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here

Curious, and a tad startled, you glance toward your bedroom door, almost as if expecting to see him.

He can’t possibly be outside of your apartment building right now. He has no idea where you live, nor would he ever have any desire to be here. This has to be some sort of prank. He’ll get you to walk outside into the freezing night air only to realize he’s nowhere to be found.

That is the Harry you know.

Arrogant Twat: For the love of God, Tinkerbell, open the fucking door before I freeze my ass off

With a huff (and a cough), you fling your covers back and pad over to your window, glancing down into the street.

And there he is, a dark shadowy figure lurking on the steps to your building, angrily glaring at his cellphone.

You feel your heart start to pound, overcome with confusion and intrigue. You don’t understand why he might be here or what he could possibly want so late at night. You’re tempted to send him away, or pretend he has the wrong address.

But you can’t deny that you’re curious as to what he might want or what he’ll say. Especially after the way things ended. Perhaps he’s merely here to catch you up on what you’ve missed with the project. Or maybe he just wants to complain in person.

Either way, you slip on some pajama shorts and a large, oversized sweatshirt for comfort, and head for the door. 

With a deep breath, you buzz him in, and wait anxiously as the sound of steps echoes through the stairwell and between the halls. 

No matter what happens, you’ll stand your ground. You don’t have the energy to fight him today. If he’s coming into your home, he’ll play by your rules.

There’s a knock on the door. Sharp and precise as you exhale shakily and step closer. Fingers curling around the doorknob before you swing it back and come face to face with the troublemaker himself.

He stands in the doorframe, a dark hoodie pulled over his head, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. 

In his right hand, he holds a brown bag, allowing it to dangle casually at his side while his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Shit, you look terrible,” he snorts, pressing his shoulder against the entryway. “Worse than usual, I mean.”

Your expression falls, a glare beginning to form. “Well, this was fun. Buh-bye now,” you huff, already beginning to shut the door in his face.

However, he’s quick to outstretch his hand and smack his palm against the wood, keeping it open. “Okay, all right. Geez, it was just a joke. D’ya lose your sense of humor or something?”

“No, that just wasn’t funny,” you retort, but allow the door to stay ajar. “What do you want?”

He lifts the bag into the air and shakes it once. “Brought you soup.”

You blink. “You…what? Why?”

He shrugs once. “Cause you’re sick,” he says, now brushing past you to make his way into your living room. “And I’m nice.”

“Uh…no,” you nearly scoff, turning around to watch him flop down onto your sofa. “You are anything but nice to me, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m being nice today.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Is it poisoned or something?”

You catch his wry smile as he begins to unpack the items and set them onto your coffee table. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you shut the door, and follow after him. Cautious of his intentions but drawn to the smell of the delicious food.

He hands you a bowl and some cutlery – which you take rather tentatively – before he straightens up and stares at you. “Are you gonna sit down?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyeing the only spot available beside him on the couch. “Are you still gonna be an asshole?”

“Probably.”

You huff but catch yourself smirking. “Fine, but scoot over.”

With an amused exhale of his own, he does as instructed, moving toward the edge of the sofa to make room before sitting down as well.

 Your small apartment fills with a rather uncomfortable quiet as the two of you begin to dig into your food. The silence accompanied by faint slurps and sips that almost make you smile.

And it feels weird to be here with him like this. Relaxing on the couch, eating some soup like you don’t despise each other.

Perhaps you’d even enjoy his company under any other circumstance. 

Clearing your throat, you angle your body toward his, studying his profile as his eyebrow raises. “Why are you here? Really?”

He shifts in your direction as well, grinning deviously from behind his takeout container. “Told you, I’m being nice—”

“Wrong. You’re never nice. Besides, you just accused me of hiding from you, so I don’t exactly think we’re on the best of terms.”

This makes his amusement fade, a subtle frown beginning to form as he shrugs one shoulder up in a nonchalant manner. “I don’t know. I guess it’s an apology.”

“For what?”

“For saying that,” he admits, almost quietly. Avoiding your eye as he stares at his noodles. “And maybe I kind of thought you were lying and wanted to see for myself.”

“Would you like me to vomit for you? Will that prove I’m actually unwell?”

He smiles again. “Nah, I’m good—”

“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll do it right now, all over your lap—”

“All right,” he groans, leaning back with a crinkled nose. “Ew. No. I believe you, Princess. Fuck’s sake.”

Satisfied, you nod once. “Great. Now, onto my next question. How the hell did you get my address?”

“How do you think?” His expression is mischievous. “Got it from your file.”

“What? Why do you have access to my file?”

“Cause Prescott’s security system is way too easy to hack,” he says simply. “And I knew you’d never tell me.”

“Right. Because we don’t do that.”

“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we’re not fucking anymore, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how exactly does that work?”

“Because,” he begins, setting his things down on the coffee table, “if we’re not fucking, that means there’s no chance of you getting all clingy and attached.”

Your eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Which means we can hang out without you falling for me,” he finishes, rather smugly. “So it’s fine.”

“Just because we aren’t fucking doesn’t mean we’re friends,” you argue. “I still hate you.”

“I know. I hate you, too.”

Yet for some reason, you both smile.

“Now what’s the real reason?” you urge, nodding your chin at him. “Honestly. Why are you really here?”

He takes a beat to mull this over, standing from the sofa to collect his trash and take it to your kitchen. “Told you,” he finally says before tossing away his things. “You’re sick, and I felt bad.”

“Is that all?”

Another long pause settles between you as he readjusts the hood over his curls and saunters over to your window seat. “I didn’t want you to be hiding from me,” he admits as he slumps down, eyes flicking out into the dark night. “So I wanted to make sure we were good.”

You study him silently, taking in the way his hands disappear into the large pocket on his abdomen. “Yeah, we’re good,” you quietly reply.

He nods once but keeps his attention on the city. “Good. Cause you don’t have to hide, you know. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know. I just said that.”

His body lifts and falls with a small chuckle before he props his legs up onto the cushions and tosses his arms over his knees. “Well, you seemed pissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that threw a hissy fit and fled from the car,” you retort. “In fact, I’m the one that politely agreed and let you go.”

“Right, but you were pissy about it. I could tell.”

“You are so full of shit.”

He laughs again. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am. But not for that.”

He looks over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re annoying, and you’re rude, and you’re so fucking pretentious,” you list, fighting a grin. “But you have a right to keep things to yourself, and I shouldn’t have asked. So…I’m sorry.”

He nods once, as if acknowledging the apology before returning his gaze to the window. “S’fine.”

Another lull drifts into the conversation, minutes passing by before you notice his expression shift.

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows lift.

“What?”

He shifts a bit before clearing his throat. “It’s not you, I just…I don’t talk about it. Or…her.”

Her. 

The first piece to the rather large puzzle sitting before you, and you feel your breath catch as you await the rest.

You notice the way he hesitates. The reflection of the night sky in his glasses. The nervous tapping of his fingers.

“Cause if I don’t talk about it, then I don’t have to think about it,” he whispers. “And if I don’t think about, then I don’t feel like putting my fucking fist through a wall, you know?”

“I know,” you answer quietly. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

He snorts to himself, leaning forward. “She never should have been in that fucking car. I was supposed to drive her. She was supposed to be with me.”

And even without much context, you feel your stomach wrench, already anticipating what might have happened.

“But she was late,” he says. And it’s angry, the way he speaks. Resentful. “She was out with her friends, and she was late to meet me, and I had shit to do. So I told her. I told her I couldn’t take her to the fucking party she wanted to go to. Because I didn’t want to be out all fucking night. I wanted to get my shit done and go to bed.”

You feel your throat run dry, tears beginning to form as you watch him recall the memory.

“I told her to get an Uber,” he continues, aggravated at first before it settles into something soft and somber. “I made her get into that car, and I watched her go. And I didn’t fucking care. Because I wanted to stay home, so I made her go by herself, and it fucking…and she didn’t…”

Your feet desperately want to carry you to him. To provide him some sort of comfort as he keeps his glare on the city horizon.

But you stay seated on the sofa, waiting for whatever he might offer next as he takes a deep breath.

“And she was just gone,” he murmurs, the air in the room shifting instantly. “She was fucking gone not even an hour later.”

The first drop slips down your cheek before you can wipe it away.

He exhales an amused laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “And I always think how funny it is that the last thing she ever said to me was, ‘Sleep well, H.’ And I haven’t slept well since.”

Now, he looks to you. Studying you almost sadly as you sit in wait.

“And then there was you,” he says. “You, and your shitty ass jokes, and your cocky little grin. You were everywhere. Every day. Sitting across from me, asking if I wanted to split a fucking everything bagel.”

You’re almost tempted to smile, but the truth of what he’s saying cuts too deep.

“And I hated it,” he admits, eyes flicking between yours. “I fucking hated it because you made me forget. Whenever I would talk to you, I would forget. I would just stare at you as you rambled on and on about the algorithm and the fucking API, and I wouldn’t think about her, and I’d forget how fucking angry I was.”

He smiles almost wryly, making your insides twist.

“And I didn’t want to forget,” he tells you. “I wanted to be angry. I wanted to punish myself for what I’d done. Because I didn’t deserve to forget. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Especially with you.”

You sit up, wrestling with the temptation to argue, but he’s already looking back out the window.

“So, yeah, maybe hating you was easier. And maybe fucking you was selfish, but it felt like the only choice. Because sex is just sex. And if I kept you at a distance – at least in some ways – I wouldn’t have to lose you, too.”

 You stand and make your way for the window seat, settling in front of him as he turns to watch you. He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to avoid your pity, but you lean forward, nonetheless.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” you whisper, ignoring his amused expression. “You don’t deserve to be punished for something you couldn’t control.”

He smirks, but you can see the hint of sadness written between the lines of his face. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll keep that in mind.”

But you don’t let him tease his way out of this, instead settling your hands atop his knees to recapture his attention. “I’m serious, Harry. I know she wouldn’t blame you. How can you blame yourself?”

His smug grin falters for half a second. “Because there’s no one else to blame.”

A lump lodges in your throat as you scoot a bit closer. “Exactly. It was an accident. Unfair and uncontrollable. But it was never your fault. It was never your burden to carry.”

He leans his head back against the wall, but his attention never leaves you. Almost as though he’s afraid to look away. 

“You can hate me,” you tell him. “I don’t mind that. Hating you is easier for me, too. But you can’t punish yourself for this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy. Not when you deserve it more than anybody I know.”

And maybe this is the first time you’ve ever really understood him. The first time you’ve felt truly connected to the man before you – even more so than when he was inside of you.

Because suddenly, things don’t feel so heavy. The world doesn’t seem so dark. And maybe, just maybe…he’s not so bad.

He drops his legs and sits up to reach for you. A large palm slipping around the back of your neck while you suck in a quiet breath and lean away.

“No,” you whisper, making his eyebrows raise. “I’m sick.”

He laughs, almost as though enchanted by your response. That charming dimple reemerging. “I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” you argue. “Seriously, it’s gross over here. There’s snot and I’ve been coughing all day—”

“Tink,” he murmurs, moving closer, attention dropping to your lips. “Stop talking.”

So…you do.

You let his mouth press to yours, settling into the feel of his touch. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel again. And despite everything else…you’re content.

He kisses your top lip. Your bottom lip. Steals a breath right from your lungs before nudging his nose with yours. “I still hate you.”

Your fingers tangle into the dark hoodie on his chest. “Yeah. I hate you, too.”

He smiles.

You aren’t sure what to expect come Monday morning. After all, you’re never sure what to expect with Harry.

You left things…friendly but undecided. As far as you know, nothing has changed. Harry is still the arrogant twat you’re forced to tolerate, and maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

But maybe…you’re okay with that.

If you never fuck him again, perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Becoming his frenemy is decidedly less exhausting than being anything else. And you suppose you don’t want much more than that. At least not right now. You’re happy to hate him for as long as he’ll let you.

But you aren’t sure how he’ll feel about his admission in the light of day. Maybe he’ll regret sharing something so personal. Maybe he’ll resent you for knowing it. Maybe he’ll request the two of you never speak again.

Lucas does his best to engage in small talk with you as you anxiously await Harry’s arrival. Politely ignoring the way you continue to check your watch and glance toward his desk. 

In fact, you eventually become so engrossed in the conversation with the friendly newcomer that you miss that aforementioned ball of thunder striding through the lab.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He throws his things down and slouches into his chair to begin working. Not bothering with a greeting or even a look of acknowledgement. 

Truth be told, you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And then the lunch hour begins. You assume he’ll disappear to the cafeteria as usual to grab a sandwich before returning to hide himself away in the lab.

Yet today is different. Today he stands up, turns around, and steps up to where you’re sitting.

Before you can even turn around, he dips down, and whispers, “Supply closet. Five minutes.”

With that, he’s gone. Slipping between the computers and desks before disappearing into the hallway as a smile stretches across your face.

After anxiously counting the seconds, you begin to follow. Double checking to make sure no one pays you any mind. 

Once you’re satisfied, you make your way to the closet, and knock twice.

The door swings open, and you barely get the chance to offer a greeting before he’s tugging you inside, flinging the door shut, and pushing you up against it.

 His lips find yours and it’s anxious. His kisses are desperate and rushed but so fucking addictive. 

His hands are on your waist while yours disappear into his hair. His glasses are nudged out of place but neither of you care to stop and fix them. Instead groaning eagerly as he sucks on your tongue.

His hips press to yours, the subtle but familiar bulge hard against your thigh as you drop your head back and whimper. Anxiously pleading with him through a pointed look.

The flick of the button on your jeans is fast and practiced. The material pooling around your ankles while he works to tug his own pants down. 

Two fingers hook onto the crotch of your panties to pull them aside before he slides the long digits through. Feeling just how frantic you really are. 

He kisses you again as he slides them inside, curling and pumping just so. Smirking when he hears your arousal echo between the walls.

Nipping at your bottom lip, he whispers, “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

Sighing contently at the way his thumb massages your clit, you say, “Good. I hate you, too.”

He snorts. “Sure, Princess. Is that why you’re so fucking wet?”

To accentuate his point, he thrusts to the knuckle, stroking a particular spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“S’fucking pathetic,” he murmurs, glancing down, “how easy it is to play with you. Don’t have to do anything, do I? Just have to tease you a little and you’ll soak my fucking hand.”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, either as an act of defiance or out of need for stability. You aren’t sure.

“Cause you like it, don’t you?” he continues, moving his kisses to your neck. “Gets you off to be insulated. Degraded. Get all wet and squirmy at the thought of me putting you in your place, yeah?”

You don’t want to agree with him, but you both know he’s right. Even now, the cold cadence in which he speaks makes your legs shake. 

“Yeah,” he answers for you in a soft but smug hum. “Know you do. Know you just wanna be put on your knees. Where you belong.”

With this thought, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, leaving you to wilt while he tugs his cock out.

There’s not much care as he swiftly and almost angrily tugs your leg up and throws it around his hip. He offers no words of reassurance or looks of encouragement while the tip drags through your folds before slowly disappearing into your cunt.

He ignores your strangled inhale, forehead finding yours as he grits, “Maybe I should do that next. Wrap your pretty ponytail around my fist while I fuck your throat.”

Your lashes flutter shut, nails scraping down his arms. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tink?” He pauses for only a moment to let you adjust. “Like it when I make tears run down your face, yeah?”

However, you can’t offer him any reply. Instead focusing on the familiar ache that accompanies the stretch of his large size. 

He pushes in a bit more, wary of your reaction, but overcome with pleasure at the way you take him. “You do,” he decides, that smile returning. “Can feel your little pussy clenching around me. Is that what you want, Princess? Want me to be mean to you?”

Truth be told, you suppose it is. Anything else wouldn’t feel right.

His hand raises to your throat, fingers curling around the delicate and soft skin of your neck before he squeezes once. Keeping your head pressed against the door.

“Take me,” he murmurs harshly before burying himself all the way. Ignoring your gasps and whines. “Fucking take me, Tink. Just like that. S’a good fucking girl. Always behave so well for me, hm? Just for me. Nobody else.”

He sets a slow but hard pace. Looking down at where his cock disappears into your pussy with a dazed look in his eye.

“Do you think about him, Princess?” he asks you next, giving your throat another squeeze. “D’ya think about your precious fucking Lucas when I fuck you? Or do you think about him when you’re all alone? Trying to get yourself off?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply, but all that follows his remark is a desolate and strained whimper. 

“Or do you think about me?” His lips ghost along the tender skin below your ear. Breathing softly before kissing the spot sweetly. A stark contrast to the vile way he speaks. “Think about how good I am to you…how I take care of you. Picture my hands, my voice, my fucking cock.”

And he’s right. In every fantasy, you see his face, first and foremost. Whisper his name into the air of your room as your fingers curl into your cunt. 

It’s always him.

“Say it,” he murmurs now, offering another gentle kiss to your neck. “Tell me I’m the only one. Fucking tell me I’m the only one you cum for.”

Your fingernails move to scrape down his scalp, tangling in his soft curls as you subtly keep him in your arms. 

You’re not too surprised by this request. Even if the two of you might never be anything more than friends, you imagine he needs to know. He needs to hear that even after everything, you still choose him.

You’re tempted to taunt him with a quippy retort. Egg him on, tell him he’s nothing compared to your vibrator. 

Yet you find yourself whispering, “Only you, Har. Only ever you.”

For a moment, he stills. As if overcome by the words, the admission.

You pull him further into your embrace. “Always you.”

With a smirk, he leans back just far enough to meet your eye. 

And you both smile.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

🥹 I can't believe we've made it to the end of the main series!!! No they're not technically together right now, BUT!!! There will be extras and who knows what they might get up to later ALSFJEFD

Thank you so much to everyone for reading and being so kind, I appreciate you all more than you know!!! You have my entire heart to heaven and back!!!! AND TINK, HARRY, AND I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN VERY SOON!! Specifically for the Halloween extra HAHAHA 😭♥️♥️

Next Part:

~ A-Mazing* (Halloween Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Jealous* (Pt. 4)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @storyschanging

[eroselless]

───────────────────somebody else // 4

series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [2.8k]

[lando norris x reader]

masterlist | previously

warnings: angst, mentions of sex

note: hi friends! I'm so sorry i've been a little awol recently. like i said before, I had been prepping for a big trip. I am studying abroad for a few months and I am slowly starting to settle in. this chapter is an insight on Lando's point of view, exploring his feelings and such. This does mean that this series will be coming to a close soon, one or two chapters at most will be added after this. Thank you guys so much again for reading and for being patient with me! Happy reading <3

Lando hadn’t been looking for anything serious. He wasn’t the type, or at least that’s what he told himself. He was young, successful, and people often told him how lucky he was to live the life he had. Fast cars, travel, a wide circle of friends—what more could he ask for? He wasn’t sure what to make of her at first. Their initial exchanges were easy, filled with harmless flirting and the occasional back and forth. Magui was gorgeous—there was no denying that—and they got along well enough.

Weeks went by with casual texting, late-night conversations, and occasional meet-ups whenever they could. They had met at a party a few months ago, and things had escalated quickly from casual texting to late-night conversations—the kind where they laughed a little too loudly, even over the phone. He met her when he could between races, and sometimes they kissed, letting the evening unravel into something more. The first time they kissed was in the darkness of a nightclub, lights flashing around them, the music loud enough that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.

He kissed her because it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His lips found hers, and everything else fell away. The next thing he remembered was stumbling into her apartment, their lips barely separating as they fumbled with the door, their clothes falling off as they made their way toward her bed. It felt right. At that moment.

It was fun, exhilarating even. They knew each other on a physical level that went beyond any of his past experiences. In the dim haze of his newfound adulthood, this was what Lando thought he needed. And people thought they looked good together, so why not? It could work.

But something still didn’t feel complete. He began to wonder if he was missing something, something more.

Then he met you.

Lando had noticed you before he had even spoken to you directly. There was something different in the air around you as you moved through the hospitality suite. He remembered watching you stand near the garage, focused, observing everything but never really interacting unless needed. It intrigued him. You weren’t a fan, he could tell—not in the way some others were. Unlike most, you didn’t treat the drivers like celebrities; you treated them like people. It was refreshing. He watched you from a distance at first, trying to figure you out. You were polite but distant, professional.

You weren’t the kind of person to seek attention, and that intrigued him. You were there, working quietly, your head down, but always aware of your surroundings. He liked that.

After that first day, he found himself wandering back into the hospitality suite, dodging journalists and photographers as he snuck away to find you. He always made up an excuse to see you, not fully aware of the brewing feelings in the back of his mind.

You were friends, exchanging late-night calls, staying behind sometimes at the hospitality suite to keep you company as you arranged things back into their places. He’d ask you questions about your life outside of racing, curious about the parts of you that didn’t revolve around the sport. Over time, you opened up more to him. You indulged in his mannerisms, leaning into him when the opportunity arose. He gradually picked up on your habits, like the way you concealed your smile behind your hands or how you fiddled with the long ties of your work apron. Seeing you began to make his heart race.

The more you interacted, the more fascinated he became. Without even realizing it, you became someone he relied on. When he was feeling down after a tough race or just needed a distraction from the world, he found himself texting you, sending you stupid memes or random thoughts. And you always replied, often with that teasing wit he’d grown to love. It made him feel like you were more than just a part of his world—you were becoming his world.

The moments that made his heart race became more frequent—a photo of your smile, a teasing emoji after a flirty remark, or that time you sent him a voice note, laughing at something he had said.

That laugh... it stuck in his mind for days. He found himself cringing at the thought, comparing it to music. But truly, was a melody, a song he never wanted to stop hearing.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He hadn’t even realized how touchy he was with you until someone—probably Carlos—pointed it out. “Mate, you’re always finding an excuse to be near her,” he had teased, nudging Lando with his elbow.

Lando shrugged it off at first, but the truth was, Carlos wasn’t wrong. Whenever you were near, his hand naturally found the small of your back, his arm draping over your shoulder when you both walked together, or his fingers brushing against yours when you handed him something. The touches were light, casual—but they weren’t insignificant. You leaned into his touch, beginning to feel at home. It felt so natural, like you’d always been in his space.

Lando felt the shift long before he was willing to admit it. It was subtle. The way you began to pull away during team events, your texts becoming shorter and less frequent. Your touches were more hesitant, less willing to stay in his arms when they enveloped you. More quiet when others were around, and even more so when it was just the two of you. He racked his brain trying to figure out what went wrong, but every time he thought about asking, he stopped himself. Could he be imagining it?

He tried distracting himself, telling himself it was nothing. There was always Magui, after all. She’d been popping in and out of his life more times than he could count, and every time he thought he was done, she found a way back in. Sometimes, when he felt lonely or frustrated after another awkward interaction with you, he’d slip into old habits. He’d wake up in Magui’s bed, her arm draped over his chest, and he’d tell himself it didn’t mean anything. And it didn’t. Not really.

But it didn’t fill the gap. It didn’t make him stop thinking about you. No matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they kept coming back. He missed you, he felt lonely without you in the busy world you both found yourselves in. You were the one he wanted, even if he couldn’t say it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The night at the club was a turning point. You were there, a few drinks in, your inhibitions lowered, and for the first time in a while, you weren’t pulling away from him. He had to stop himself from kissing you when he first pulled you into his arms. Your perfume was one he almost hadn’t recognized, knowing you only wore it a few times when going out. He’d smelled it on you on the rare occasions when you weren’t working hospitality at McLaren dinners. It was so… you.

He spent most of the night watching you, unable to keep his eyes off your frame as you swayed drunkenly with Alex and Lily. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t tear his gaze away from the way you were so you in that moment. Every time you moved in time with the music, he could feel himself falling deeper under the spell you unknowingly had him under.

He had to stop himself from kissing you right then and there when he pressed into you from behind, taking your hips into his hands. Your flowery scent mixed with the tang of alcohol and sweat was intoxicating, and it took everything in him not to lean down and meld his lips to yours.

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the bass of the music thumped in his chest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t dare ruin the moment with words, but he knew you could feel the way his body responded to yours. The tension was electric, each second of your closeness like a silent admission that neither of you could avoid anymore.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t tell him to stop. Your body felt heavenly against his, fitting right where it needed to. His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Lando’s thoughts were a mess. Every time your hips brushed against him, his breath caught, and his brain spun in circles, trying to make sense of what this was. Did you feel the same pull? The same desire that clawed at him every time you were near? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

The moment you stepped off the dance floor, Lando took your hand, leading you toward the darkened hallway. Neither of you said a word as you slipped into the bathroom, the music muffled by the walls around you. He pinned you against the cool surface of the sink, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation he hadn’t realized he was carrying. You kissed him back, just as hungry, and for a moment, he let himself forget the confusion, the hesitation, everything except the way your body felt pressed against his.

He wanted to take you right there and then, not wanting to wait any longer. Your soft moans sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted more—needed more. His hands slid down to the hem of your dress, ready to lose himself in you entirely.

And just as they did, there was a sharp, sudden knock on the door that had the two of you jumping. He cursed the Dutch driver as he pulled the two of you out of your lustful haze, grounding both of you back in reality. There was a sudden soberness instilled in your bodies as you left the restroom, only spurring him to drink more as the night dragged on.

The rest of the night was a blur. He remembered drinking more, trying to drown the frustration gnawing at him. But he knew one thing for certain: you had come home with him. He remembered your face hovering over him as he lay in bed, the soft light casting a glow around your hair like a halo.

You slipped under the covers beside him, and for a brief moment, everything felt perfect.

When he wakes up alone, he can still smell your perfume. It lingers on the sheets, the only proof that you were there the night before. He lies there, staring at the ceiling, his bed still warm from where you had been beside him, and he tries to convince himself that it doesn’t matter. That you’ll be okay, that things will eventually go back to normal.  

He sees his phone charging on the opposite bedside table and reaches across the bed to check it. It's almost dead, having just barely been plugged in. He reaches for it, expecting—hoping—for a message from you, but instead, it’s from her.  

already missing you, when are you coming over again? last night was fun ;)

It's a message he’s been avoiding, a message he’s been ignoring all night long. Lando swears under his breath, tossing his phone to the side. He hasn’t seen Magui in weeks, but she has a way of showing up at the worst possible times, like a ghost from his past that refuses to be laid to rest. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. What if you saw the message? What if that’s why you left?  

But deep down, he knows that isn’t it. There’s something else going on, something more that you haven’t talked about, something you’re both avoiding. And he hates it.  

Sitting up in bed, he runs a hand through his messy curls, his mind racing. He can’t keep doing this—dancing around his feelings, pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn’t. He needs to talk to you, to figure out what’s going on, but the thought of confronting it scares him more than he’s willing to admit.  

Because what if you don’t feel the same way? What if this is all in his head, and you’re just trying to let him down gently? He can’t bear the thought of losing you completely, even if it means staying in this strange limbo where things are left unsaid.  

But one thing is clear—Magui isn’t what he wants anymore. Not really. She’s a distraction, a way to fill the void that has grown between him and you. But it’s not enough. You’re what he wants, the one who makes his heart race and his thoughts spin in ways he hasn’t felt before.  

Lando glances at his phone again, the urge to text you overwhelming. He types out a message, his fingers hesitating over the send button.  

Hey, can we talk?

Simple. Direct. But as his thumb hovers over the screen, doubt creeps in. What if you don’t reply? What if this is the end? 

Before he can hit send, he tosses his phone to the side once again, the message box now empty.  

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When he pulls you into his driver’s room, it’s not a decision—it’s instinct. Carlos’s words still ring in his ears, but it’s the image of someone else's hands on you, someone other than him, that makes his blood roar in his veins. His thoughts, his feelings, everything he’s been holding back solidifies in an instant. He crosses the distance between you, heart thrumming wildly in his chest. Without a word, his hands find your face, and his lips meet yours, slow and deep, pouring everything he’s never had the courage to say. You don’t pull away; you don’t ask questions. Maybe, somehow, you always knew.

It wasn’t like the kiss in the club—this one was softer, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. It’s tender, woven with unspoken confessions, full of the vulnerability he’s buried for too long. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and you match his intensity, your body melting into his, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment forever. 

Neither of you speak—words would only shatter the fragile understanding that lingers between you. Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

But as quietly as you slipped into his room, you slip out and away. He’s left sitting in the dim light, staring at the bed, his heart still racing but now hollow. You left without a word, but this time the emptiness feels sharper. You had clung to each other as though trying to hold back the inevitable, a storm of passion that left him breathless. Yet, as he had laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat fade into silence, he can’t shake the feeling that this was an ending. That whatever it was you had—whatever it could have been—was slipping through his fingers like sand.

Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When the next race weekend arrives, Lando paces restlessly through the hospitality suite. His stomach is in knots, his mind spinning at a pace faster than he’s ever driven. He goes over the words he’s rehearsed a thousand times in his head, thinking about how he should’ve spoken sooner, how he should’ve laid everything bare instead of relying on touches and stolen moments to convey what he’s felt for so long. Fifteen minutes pass. You’re still not there.

In the time he’s known you, he’s learned that you’re never late. Even when you were nervous or uncertain, you would always show up. Maybe it’s just traffic, he tells himself, trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach. Maybe you’ll arrive later. But you would’ve told him, right? You always told him.

Then the doors open, and his heart stumbles in his chest, but it’s not you.

“Oh, she quit,” a colleague tells him when he asks for you. “Her contract was ending anyways, something about heading back to university.”

The words hit him like a cold wave, their meaning sinking in with agonizing slowness. You’re gone. Just like that. No warning, no farewell, no final glance. As he stands there, staring at the space where you should be, at the bar, at the tables you once hovered over, the reality crashes down on him with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

And in that moment, the depth of his loss becomes a stark, aching reality.

tags: @horseymchorse3 @bluebluesol @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @lipstickstateofmind @rafeyybabyy

a/n: hi everyone, thank you much if you've gotten to this point! I really loved being to explore Lando's point of you and seeing more of his side of the story. let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!

[joocomics]

ಬ fuck buddies

pairing: fuckbuddy!yangyang x f!reader x loser!winwin | not threesome

genre: smut wc: 1k

contains: sub!reader, (consensual) angry sex, name calling, choking (f!rec), degradation kink

a/n: @teasteeper and her work made me fall for loser!wayv so this idea came to me all bc of her <3

you’ve always seen winwin as just the loser friend of your fuck buddy yangyang, but surprisingly he turns out to be the one who finally puts you in your place…

yangyang always hangs out with big crowds, throws the best parties and never minds you coming along; he’s extroverted, popular, radiates confidence and winwin, to you, seems to be exactly the opposite. so every time yangyang invites him you wonder why.

one night as you lay under the sheets of yangyang’s bed, you finally bring up the question, wanting to know what exactly keeps them so close. turns out they’re childhood friends and according to yangyang winwin just finds it more difficult to communicate in a bigger circle. he’s not always like that, he says.

“why do you ask?” yangyang turns on his side with lazy motions. your bodies touch once again, sweaty and still overwhelmed from the previous orgasm. he traces a line on your stomach only to sneak his slender fingers into your slickness. he’s already greedy for another round, just like you. “are you thinking of changing your fuck buddy?”

you laugh at his ridiculous comment, but decide to tease him back despite both of you knowing you’d never have a situationship with a guy like his friend.

“can’t i have two?”

yes, winwin has an attractive face and a nice figure; he’s always put together too. but that’s not enough if you ever happen to consider it. you need someone who radiates confidence, lust. someone who smells like sex, and knows how to handle you with a firm confident grip. someone like yangyang.

“you can have twenty if you want, but sweetheart…” yangyang moves his lips away from your marked neck so he can peer into your eyes, “none of them should be a friend of mine.” his fingers pull out of your slick lips and squeeze your jaw, not really satisfied with the playful smile on your face. the corners of his mouth turn up a bit, but his tone is more sharp than light. it rings like a warning. “i’m serious.”

one evening you’re left alone with winwin to prepare snacks for the party while yangyang goes to buy more alcohol before people start arriving at his place. you catch winwin staring at you with expressions you cannot quite understand what they mean; he stands too close to your shoulder as you fill up the bowls and barely keep the small talk alive. in your opinion, winwin can only hold an entertaining conversation with yangyang and no one else.

“i’m not the loser you think i am if you just give me a chance…” he speaks up, taking off his glasses.

you turn to face him, but before you have a chance to respond with anything, he speaks again, this time with bigger assurance.

“i know what you think about me.”

“okay…” you blink at him, capturing the intensity of his gaze which is usually always soft and mellow. “my opinion of you shouldn’t matter to you, we’re not friends,” you reply, and as you try to walk pass him his tall broad figure stops in front of you. “don’t tell me you’re trying to kiss me,” you giggle, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

his dark eyes skim your body up and down that’s wrapped in a tight dress before they stop on your intrigued expression. your face is pretty. sexy. winwin noticed it the first time he saw you; you were in yangyang’s lap when you reached for his hand, stating your name in the seductive voice you so often seem to talk. but it still has that amused look to it that never seems to go away when he’s in your presence. he really wants to erase it from your lips and make you see him in a new light.

“you’re wrong about me,” winwin grunts only for you to grin again.

“prove it.”

so he does. a moment later your body is sprawled over the marble surface as winwin’s cock is all the way inside you; it’s gliding in a rough rapid speed that has you seeing stars by the way it sharply pokes at your cervix. his one palm is glued to your mouth, because this time he wants to do the talking.

“fuckin’ tired of the way you look at me… think you’re too good for me? just because you’re yangyang’s little whore? f-fuck.. ‘been dreaming of this for so long… shuttin’ your filthy mouth up…”

he feels your walls squeezing him tighter as his thrusts echo aggressively one after another in the kitchen. in yangyang’s kitchen. his hand leaves your drooling mouth so it can go around your neck, pulling you closer to gush at your ear.

“so hot… you’re so hot, but you’re driving me mad…”

you whine incoherently about being close; about not wanting him to slow down. the thrill from the possibility of yangyang walking in on you brings you to the edge even quicker. everything feels so… forbidden.

winwin frees your throat and presses your head against the countertop while making the last few slams into you as orgasm takes over every part of your body.

you kneel on the floor with trembling legs and winwin swears he hasn’t felt this good in a really long time; this satisfied and proud of himself. your dazed teary eyes catch sight of his flushed cock getting closer, and they remain open while the warm thick cum spills in your mouth. his heart feels close to bursting when your throat gulps it down as if his cum is something you’re already used to. although he’s still frustrated with you, he cannot help but relish this moment of you watching him innocently from below; with weakness and surprise. it’s electrifying.

both of you quickly come back to your senses after you hear yangyang opening the front door. you didn’t even get the chance to exchange any words about the events that just happened. you run to the bathroom while winwin fixes his jeans and puts his glasses back on.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[novaonhere]

Quiet Nights

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Cal has a dream that totally goes against the Jedi code. During his panic, you come to check on him and find him in a comprisable position.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: ITS SMUT TIME FOLKS, 18+, oral f! receiving, no condom, cussing, choking (duh the force?)

A/N: Delicious, I drank a full 32 oz of water after this

Prompt: Imagine your OTP where one of them had a dream about the other person and tries to act normal, but fails miserably, so the other one notices and gets curious about what the dream was about.

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

You yawn, filling up your cup with water from the bathroom sink. You gulp it down, refreshing you as much as a glass of water at 3:34 am could. It was nice having a bigger bathroom; you're used to the small Mantis bathroom instead of this spacious one on Jedah. You, Cal, Bode, and Greez have arrived to the Hidden Path's base to touch base with Cere and learn more about this Tanalorr place. It seemed intriguing, but you were still on the fence if such a place could even exist.

Now here you stand, staring yourself down in the mirror, filling up another glass of water. As soon as you turn off the tap, a very faint and quiet noise echoes throughout the halls. Curious, you open the door, the noise just becoming ever so slightly louder. Time to investigate!

---

Cal twists and turns in his guest bed, his entire upper body reddened. Soft moans escape his lips. He was burning, and he couldn't bring himself to wake up. Hell, he didn't want to wake up. This was the best dream he had ever had!

You had surprised him with a night for just the two of you, walking through the forests on a planet he could not name. The trees towered above you, vibrant with their green leaves. They bring in just enough light to highlight the rugged dirt path. You both were holding hands, just enjoying each other presence. Now, the dream changed, and it most definitely explains Cal's reddened complexion as he lies in bed.

You're now hovering over him, in a beautiful matching set, perfectly complementing your skin tone. Lace runs up and down your body, showing off your curves and parts that Cal only wishes he could actually touch. You leaned in for a passionate kiss, straddling the man. He could basically feel you in his subconscious.

---

The sounds started to become louder the closer you got to you and the guest bedroom next door. Who was staying in there again? Is that Cal? You tip toe up to the door, placing an ear beside it. Yep, that's him, is he alright? You knock quietly, waiting for a response. The response never came. You knock a bit louder this time. A gasp fills the room, as well as some frantic shuffling.

"Cal?" You whisper to the door, the shuffling stopping immediately. "Are you alright?"

"Come in," He blurted, immediately regretting it. You hesitantly open the door, the light from the hallway showing a line of brightness on the man. He's sitting against the headboard, the blankets ruffled around his crotch and legs.

"Nightmares?" You ask, taking a step in and quietly closing the door behind you. "Would you like to talk about it?" You squint your eyes to get a better look at him, your eyes still adjusting to the dark. His are as wide as possible, extremely dilated from the darkness and the dream.

"I'm okay, thanks for checking, goodnight." He rambles, trying to sink into his bed. This only makes you more curious. As you eyes get more adjusted, you notice that his cheeks match his hair.

"Oh," You realize, blushing as well. "My apologizes." You giggle, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. "Who?" Cal just blinks.

"What?"

"Who was it! Mr. Jedi, Mr. I can't ever think about another person in a romantic or sexual way." You tease, playfully hitting his foot. He purses his lips together, causing your grin to only become greater. "Oh, come on Cal! This is big! Who?"

"Why is it so important?" He grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Oh my god, do I know them?" You cross your legs, fully facing the clearly embarrassed Jedi. He rolls his eyes, but the redness only darkens and spreads. You giggle gleefully. You hum, trying to think of who it could be.

You really hoped it was you. For months you've been trying to hint to him about your feelings, sometimes very vague, but other times very blunt. The rest of the crew caught on immediately, but the gears in Cal's brain just didn't seem to click. You've tried asking about dating and his romantic life, but he always brought up the Jedi Code, making your want for him only increase. You've had dreams, dreams of you being together, living through the rebellion, being together, domestically and intimately.

You're expression must softened as you were thinking because Cal coughed to get your attention. Now it was your turn to blush.

"You going to guess or let me go back to sleep?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. Now, you had a choice. Respect his want to go back to bed and continue about life, or be VERY BLUNT. You were tired, so there was only one right option.

"Was it me?" You ask, glancing around the room, trying to not meet his gaze. Cal's breath hitched, the blanket becoming too hot for his body. From the lack of response, you also started to heat up, clearing your throat. From the lack of response, you could only assume it was you. You. YOU?

You whip your head to face him, locking eyes. You... He wanted... you. You honestly couldn't believe it.

"Was it just a dream?" You mumble, Cal giving a questioning expression as you shift in your seated position. "Or do you actually have feelings?" You vulnerability seemed to easy Cal a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. He wanted to say the truth, but he didn't want to make it weird. Would it be weird? Eh, tonight was the "going for it" kinda night.

"Months." He simply states, trying to relax against his headboard. You perked your head up from your gaze into your lap. You cheeks redden, your breathing quickens, and something feels, different. The atmosphere feels intoxicating, but in a you shouldn't leave way. With the prolonged eye contact, you feel ass if Cal notices the feeling as well. You notice his hand are now at his sides, and there's an obvious lump by his lap. That weird feeling starts from your stomach and falls down your body, closer to your belly button.

"Months?" You repeat, raising an eyebrow. He purses his lips and nods. You hum. "Well..." You both grow silent, quiet. This had to be the quietest you too had ever been with each other. You waited for each other to make a move, but in all honesty, Cal was too vulnerable, physically. You start to feel the awkwardness subside and you feel yourself giggle.

"Hey, it's not funny." Cal frowns, while you shake your head.

"No, of course not." You compose yourself, scooting closer to the red head. "It's funny that we are telling each other we like each other with your dick out." Cal's face reddens completely, trying to compose himself as he places his hands over his lap. You outstretch your arms, pushing his hands away, causing the freckled man's eyes to widen dramatically. "Need any help?"

Cal practically springs up at you, locking your lips together in the most "I need you" kiss you've ever experienced. It was HOT. Like, you already started to sweat as your tongues fought each other. You needed him, you needed him so badly. He could feel that need from you, he wanted to provide that for you more than his dreams ever could. He pulled your up and into his lap, never once breaking the kiss. Your clit brushes against him, causing you to quiver in pleasure. He notices your movements and moves your hips back and forth on him, earning himself a quiet moan from you. He chuckles, retracting his lips from yours and goes for your neck. Your arms are around his shoulders, dragging your fingertips through his hair. You continue to moan and gasp into his ear, trying to stay quiet.

"You're wearing too many clothes for this," He comments, lifting the bottom of your shirt. You instantly comply, throwing it over your head and onto the floor. He goes back for your lips as you also tug on his shirt.

"Match?" You ask, giving him a small smile. He gladly follows through with your request, throwing his shirt toward yours. Your eyes wander down to his toned chest, scars and freckles decorating his body. You feel a fluttering sensation down there.

"Well if we're going to match you need that all off." He motions to the rest of your body, causing your to giggle and raise an eyebrow.

"You dont wear pants to bed, but a shirt?"

"Hey, my arms get cold. Allow me," He states going back in for a kiss. You immediately deepen it, allowing his tongue into your mouth to explore. All the while he waves his hand and your bra unclasps. Startled you pull away.

"Force?" You ask, tossing your bra away. He smiles, nodding, staring at you. He's never seen you like this, and boy was he going to enjoy and savor it. "Well, what else can you do?" He picks you up and slides you to be propped up where he once was, with the blanket still covering his lower half. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, but before he does any more, he looks up at you. This causes your to blush, appreciative of the asking for permission. The knot in your core only tightens, god he was hot. Nodding, he slips them down with ease, along with your underwear. He crawls up to your face, giving you more kisses. He starts to trail down your body, more moans and gasps leaving you as he goes over your bare body. Finally he reaches below your belly button. He places light kisses to your thighs as he opens your legs with his free hand. You're practically dripping with anticipation by this point. He continues to kiss you, going closer to your inner thighs and to your opening. Propping your legs open with his body and arm, he proceeds to trail more and more kisses closer and closer.

Your arms are clutching the sheets by your sides, the amount of pleasure awaiting you but just out of your reach. The amount of teasing is excruciating; you need him. You moan louder and louder the closer he gets to your clit. Then, he proceeds to rub his tongue around your clit in circles. Your breathing hitches and becomes irregular.

"Fuck-" You cry out, making Cal only want to do more things to you. You were already so wet that he easily slid a finger into you, causing you to moan. He pumps in and out of you, slowly, making sure to curl his fingers up into you. How he knew how to do this you'll never understand, but holy shit was he doing a good job. He slides in another finger, starting to pick up the pace. Your hips start to have a mind of their own, fighting against him to push him deeper.

"Tell me," he states, looking up at you. His chin is glistening with you, his eyes so dilated they were almost black. His mouth hung open slightly, totally getting off to pleasing you.

"Deeper," You whine, and he grants your wish. He pushes deeper into you, causing you to whine out in pleasure.

"Holy Shit, Cal," You cry out, breathing erratically. The knot in your core tightens more, needing to find a good time to release. He quickens the pace, leaning over you to bring your lips together. Oh yea, that did it. You feel yourself just let go and this amount of pleasure and warmth rushes over you. It's so much that you moan out more expletives and his name repeatedly. After your high, you just see him. You need more, and god did you want to get more.

"Fuck me," You command, and he obliges. Pulling you closer to him, he uncovers his member, resting it on your stomach as he gets situated. He pulls a pillow and rests it under your lower back to make sure you don't hurt yourself, and keeping your ankles over his shoulders. You couldn't look away from him. Even his dick was freckled, which was kinda cute, but all you cared about was him and the fact you needed him in you.

"Are you ready?" He asks, noticing he has his dick in hand, ready to line himself up.

"Fuck, please," You groan, already closing your eyes in anticipation. He slides in, both of you moaning in pleasure.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)," he breathes out, barely over a whisper. His head is tilted back, holding onto your ankles. Your hands are by your lower stomach, trying to feel him in you from the outside because holy shit was he filling you full. He slowly starts to pump in and out of you, fully in, and fully out. Every pump in, you moan in delight. Sweat rolls down the both of you as you fill the room with heat and the sounds of pleasure. He starts to go faster, holding onto your thighs to bring you even closer.

"Cal~" You moan, holding your hands to your mouth because you knew you were about to get pretty loud. Without much thought, he pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. You push up onto all fours as he makes his way between your legs, entering you once more. Your arms give out, pushing your face into a pillow. This was helpful for covering your moans, but Cal wanted to hear them as he railed you. Carefully, he commanded the force to pull you up, by the neck. At first, only gently to not hurt you but to get up. You clenched in pleasure, moaning even louder. So, he also tightened his grip. Damn, so this is what he could do. After a bit more relentless railing, you felt your core have that same tightening sensation.

"Cal, I'm gunna-" You moan as he quickens the pace, causing you to moan out.

"Me too, fuck." He whispers out, nearing his release. Hearing him cuss like that over you sends you over as you scream out in delight. You clench onto him and release, an explosion of pleasure ruptures over yourself. His force lets go of you, making your head topple into the pillows. He grabs your hips and pushes him all the way, releasing into you. It's such a warm sensation, filling you up to the brim.You both stay like that for a few moments, catching your breathes. He pulls out, his cum leaking out of you.

"Holy shit," You say in unison. Cal chuckles, reaching for his towel that is on a nearby chair.

"Here, to clean up." He throws the towel onto your exposed behind. You blush, cleaning up yourself as you sit up on the towel, just in case. You cover yourself with his blanket, a sudden chill running all over you. Cal slips his boxers on from a nearby dresser and sits down beside you.

"I never thought we'd do that," You state, leaning into him. He happily wraps his arms around you.

"I'm glad we did, because wow. Jedi's are really missing out." This causing a laugh to escape you, causing him to also chuckle. You start to stand, but Cal holds you down.

"Stay tonight?" He asks, motioning to the pillows. He smiles warmly, and how could you say no? You return the smile, shuffling yourselves under the blankets and heads on pillows. He lays on his back as you cuddle up onto his chest, wrapping your arm around his torso. His arm lounges behind and around your back, rubbing it up and down.

"Well, we can do that as much as you want," You giggle, cuddling into him more.

"I'd like that, but also the cute romantic stuff." He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your head.

"Maybe a date?"

"I like the sound of that, in the morning?"

"Oh, let's go to the bakery down the street, I heard the have wonderful food." You smile, your eyelids feeling heavy.

"It's a date, goodnight (Y/N)." Cal whispers, closing his eyes. You hum back, already falling asleep. The smile never leaves your faces, even as you dream of what the future could hold for you two.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eeeeee! Congratulations! You deserve every single one! 🖤

Could I pretty please request:

Am I supposed to be scared now? In a Mafia AU. Vibes and item I'll leave up to your enormous, genius brain.

🖤🖤🖤

Thank you so much, Sam! 💖✨️ Hope you enjoy!

Worth the risk

Rated: E

Words: 992

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Dark Eddie Munson; Mob boss Richard Harrington; Secret relationship; intrigue; Referenced character death (RIP Tommy); Blood and violence; Knife play; Blood play; Groping; Dry humping

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Nobody says anything as they make their way out of the Harrington villa, but by some unspoken agreement, they don't part ways yet. They linger in the driveway by the cars. 

Eddie knows better than to speak first. Instead, he lights a cigarette and lets the silence drag on, pretending to be brooding over the night’s events. He knows that somebody is bound to say something sooner rather than later. 

It’s Jeff who does, in the end. 

“Harrington’s losing it.” 

Gareth jumps and casts anxious glances all around himself, like he’s expecting to find the boss lurking somewhere in the shadows, while Frank shushes Jeff with a hectic gesture. 

“Shut up, are you insane?” 

Jeff shrugs petulantly, but he does lower his voice. “I'm just saying what everyone is thinking. That thing with Hagan? That was completely fucking bonkers, sending him to make that deal with the Carvers all alone. It’s almost like he wanted him to end up with a bullet through his head.” 

“Maybe he did,” Gareth says. “Rumor has it Hagan’s been making eyes at the son.” 

Eddie nods along solemnly with the rest of them. 

“All I’m saying is, it’s bad news,” Jeff mumbles. “He believes he’s invincible, that he can get away with anything. It’s dangerous for a man in his position to think like that.” 

“Then maybe he shouldn’t be.” Eddie lets the words linger, waiting until every single face is turned to him. “Be in that position, I mean.” 

Frank scoffs. “Yeah, right. Who’d even wanna do it instead? Junior seems much more interested in lounging by the pool and taking it up the-” 

“Nah,” Eddie is quick to deflect. “We’d need someone capable. Somebody younger, who knows how things work on the street.” 

“Someone like you?” 

“I wouldn’t know about that, Gare,” Eddie lies. “Just putting in my two cents on the matter.” 

Behind the garden wall, a light flickers alive, then dies again, quick as a heartbeat. Eddie grinds his cigarette under the heel of his boot. 

“Shit, just remembered I forgot something. Don’t wait for me, guys.” 

He feels their gazes on his neck as he walks back towards the house and doesn't bother hiding his grin. 

*

The hydrangeas are long past their bloom, decaying flower petals rustling under his feet. He doesn't lament their death, not when he knows that the seeds of something else are slowly taking root. 

The underwater lights of the pool bask the garden in an eerie glow, but he makes his way to the pool house unbothered. He has hardly ducked inside when a key clicks in the lock behind him. 

Eddie’s body moves on instinct and muscle memory. The key clatters off somewhere in the darkness,  and when the crimson veil lifts from his eyes, he has a warm body pressed against the wall, the edge of his knife licking at a shivering throat. A throat covered in the fading marks of his own teeth. 

“Damn, Stevie,” he hisses, retracting the blade and sliding it back into its holster. It leaves the faintest of cuts, tiny droplets of blood gathering against tan skin like dark beads. “Are you out of your mind? You can't just sneak up on people like that.” 

Steve scowls at him, face full of haughty disdain. He's beautiful in the glow of the pool seeping in from outside. He's always beautiful, of course, but something about the pale blue light rippling off his skin makes him look ethereal and downright unreal. Like an ancient deity, like a marble statue come alive.

“Excuse me?” he whispers, wriggling in Eddie’s hold. “What was I supposed to do? Nobody tells me shit, and then I overhear my dad talking on the phone about how one of his guys was killed. I just wanted-” 

“Aw,” Eddie coos. He leans into Steve’s space, scraping a toothy grin against the hollow of that pretty throat. His lips come away tasting like copper, leaving a bloody trail on Steve's skin. “Are you worried about me, honey? Why, I'm honored.” 

Steve pushes his head away with one palm against his cheek, but makes no further attempt at twisting out of his grip. 

“This isn't a fucking joke, Eddie. If my dad finds out about this, you'll be next in line for a bullet through the- Will you stop this?” 

Eddie lets Steve's thumb slide out of his mouth with an obscene, wet sound, nipping at the tender skin at its base as he goes. 

“Am I supposed to be scared now?” he drawls. “I'm not an idiot, I can look after myself.” 

“I know you can,” Steve confesses, tracing Eddie’s cheekbone with his thumb. It's still wet with his own spit, and the touch leaves a thin trail of moisture, cool in the stuffy air of the pool house. “But sometimes, I don't think you understand how dangerous this is.” 

“Believe me, darling, I’m well aware of the danger.” Eddie trails a hand over Steve’s throat, down his chest. The motion makes a drop of blood run from his neck into the collar of his shirt. He watches how it blooms on the white fabric, pretty like a flower, as he slips his hand between Steve's legs. “Good thing we both like it a little, dangerous, right?”

He gives the bulge in Steve’s pants a firm squeeze, and as always, the boy responds like the beautiful, needy little dream that he is. He rolls his hips, grinding himself into the touch, and wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck to slot their bodies closer together. Eddie bites down on that perfect, pink bottom lip and laughs against it when Steve moans. 

“Woah, honey! What happened to being careful?”

“What's life without a little risk?” Steve smiles, looking at him from under his long lashes. “And besides, you made me drop the key, so one of us will end up on his knees anyhow.” 

Eddie finds he can't argue with that.

More celebration ficlets

[dsybouquet]

okay we know the rockstar! ellie troupe but what about rockstar! reader ?

like imagine..

you’re backstage, waiting for your band to go out on stage. touring was tough but there was nothing you loved more than performing. the adrenaline, the screaming fans and the flashing light - it was pure euphoria.

you quickly had your makeup done before lighting up a cigarette. „thats almost the last show.“, you told the rest of your team, before giving each of them a high-five. „let‘s rock this.“

the opening band finished, and your band went on stage. fans screaming, applause from everywhere, whistling - euphoria in your veins. smilingly, you waved your hands.

„what‘s up guys! are we in a good mood ?“

again screaming and whistling and you loved it. you eyes the venue and you were beyond impressed by the amount of people. after all you‘re not the most well known band just yet.

but giving the fact that you sort of dress and sound like taylor momsen - your band was pretty hot and and eyecatcher with it‘s members, yet alone with the unique sound of your singing and the heavy guitars and drums.

your eyes landed on a specific girl. she was.. gorgeous, yet didn‘t look like a fan. while she was with the security guards you guessed she was a staff member, maybe even the venue owner. she stared back, a slight smirk on her lips, before she returned to the security guards and then disappeared.

afterall, you didn’t care much about it. you played your show, rocked the shit out of the venue and played two more songs off the set list by demand of the crowd.

„okay guys, this really is the last song. cover of no more tears by ozzy osbourne, but with our touch.“

and as you played your cover, the girl appeared again. smiling widely, clearly enjoying your version of one of her favourite songs - but you didn’t know that. you smiled back, performing the shit out of your body, before ending with a heavy breath.

„thank you, Jackson! It was a pleasure! enjoy the rest of your night !“

off the stage you went, clapping hands for your team and your band, praising them, thanking them for their hard work too.

„amazing show.“, a unfamiliar voice said, causing you to turn around. it was the girl from before. „i‘m ellie, pleasure to meet you and thank you for coming to my venue.“, she said with the most charming smile on her lips, holding out het hand for you to shake.

„hi! ______, nice to meet you.“

„oh! i know who you are.“, she laughed. „sorry for not introducing myself earlier, i had things to take care off. however, i am more than impressed by what you and your fairly young band did !“

you smiled and turned around to the team. „it‘s mostly their work, they are amazing.“

ellie nodded, smiling still.

„also a pretty girl like you with a voice like this? you‘ll go big.“

„god! thanks a lot. i might just blush from the compliments.“, you laughed as you walked back to the backstage room, lighting a cigarette on the way.

you kept the conversation going while some assistances from the venue helped gathering your instruments, microphones anf cables to get them back to your bus.

„going back to the hotel?“, ellie asked outside the venue, leaning against a wall while watching you help her assistances. ellie was so intrigued by you. the way you walked, talked, performed - all of it was beyond perfect and beautiful. you might even say she was starstruck by you and your smile.

„i guess so. still two shows left in the next days and we still have to get there.“ you said, with that smile that made her go insane. while smiling, a cigarette was between your lips. exhaling the smoke in the dark night air, you looked at ellie.

„what a pity. thought i could ask you out for a drink or two.“, ellie said, again with the most charming smile and a voice so gentle.

you looked at your band members and then at her. „well, i guess there is nothing against a drink.“, you smiled, telling your team to go without you and that you‘ll join them later on. they know you won‘t, but agreed. after all, ellie was very attractive and seemed kind.

„shall we?“, she asked, a cigarette between her lips as she looked behind her while waiting for you to catch up.

„yeah.“

⋆·˚ ༘ *

i rewatched green room and was in the mood for a bandish thing okay (at least here is no massacre LOL)

kinda wish i had a better idea for this because it‘s a nice idea yet IDK well hope u enjoyed it bye xx ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

(convinced ellie is an black sabbath and ozzy osbourne fan, and you can’t change my mind)

[mockerycrow]

UNDERCOVER VII (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover series masterlist — previous | next

summary: taking a break from telling your experiences, Soap and you spend the day together. He takes you from your room as to allow you to see more. Unfortunately for the both of you, Soap didn't bother to inform anyone of this decision. 3.8k words.

a/n: HELLO!!! YES!!! you are not imagining things! chapter seven is FINALLY out. i went on two separate impromptu hiatuses and i am going on another one at the end of this month until around november, so i wanted to get this out for y’all. i appreciate all of y’all’s patience. i love you guys. during this flashback/ptsd attack, bolted italics are present when characters are speaking russian. [THIS DOES NOT FOLLOW REBOOT MW CANON.]

[WARNINGS; light fluff(!!!), ptsd, death/suicide ideation, angst, hospital setting, death and gore, reader is not a good person morally, military inaccuracies, overall TRIGGER WARNING.]

“Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?” ― Clarice Lispector.

Lucky for me, my internal request about being left alone was granted. I skipped a meal, despite the worried glare of the main nurse taking care of me. I’m sure they wanted to put the feeding tube back into my throat—they surely looked like it. Or was that the look of genuine worry? Did I forget what it looked like? When I woke up this morning, they certainly made sure I got some food in me. I appreciate the nurses and the doctors and their efforts in taking care of me. I recognize I cannot be an easy patient by any means; whether that means the paperwork, the security… My behavior? I applaud them.

I wish I could get them a gift or something. Maybe once I’m out of their care. Is that weird?

I’ve always woken up pretty early—courtesy of Makarov’s strange routines—so when I woke up and didn’t see Soap by my side, I wasn’t too surprised. He probably has drills and routines of his own. Woke up, ate breakfast which looked absolutely immaculate, however I’m in a very weird.. flux right now. I’m not sure how to exactly describe it, but the food looked great but felt like flavorless blobs. Perhaps my tastebuds are deceiving me, or what they gave me was just pure shit. Hm.

Before he left last night, Soap assured me today was a rest day. I couldn’t help myself, but I winced at his statement. It probably wasn’t for my benefit, but for theirs. Any information I have can be a lot of paperwork, a lot of.. Meetings, I guess. I don’t know. I’m bitter, but I’m grateful for the break. 

By the time 0900 rolled around, Soap strolled into my room. Fucker had the brightest smile on his face, his lip curling just enough to expose his gum around his right upper canine. “Back on babysitting duty?” I ask, my tone flatter than usual. Soap chuckles, his boots clicking against the waxed tile as he approaches my bedside. My eyes scan his attire; dark grey t-shirt, tucked into a dark grey pair of cargo pants and regular boots. Belt, holster with the gun. Huh, surprising. My eyes glance back up at his face as Soap spoke.

“Don’ be like that, aye? Ye don’t hafta think of it like that.” Soap insists, his hand grabbing my shoulder, gently might I add. I huff—his touch burns until he removes his hand. “Look, I’m sure ye don’t want t’be held in here all day. I have an idea.” He proposes with a twinkle in his eyes. I raise an eyebrow, unable to disguise how intrigued I actually am. “Oh?” I ask, my voice low like earlier. There’s a funny feeling in my stomach. Soap throws his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the stationary wheelchair that’s remained in the corner since last night. “Why don’t we take a walk?” 

My lip curls for a moment, my eyes darting between him and the wheelchair. “You mean ‘wheel around’?” I raise an eyebrow, poking fun at him. Soap lets out a tsk and shakes his head. “Haud yer wheesht.” Soap utters before turning around, crouching down to unlock the wheels of the wheelchair. “Jokes on you, I dunno what that means.” I reply snarkily, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. “It means ‘shut up’.” He replies as if he’s gracing me with great information.

I roll my eyes, cautiously pushing the blankets down off of my legs. I wince for a moment and Soap’s legs as well as the wheelchair come into view as I get myself settled. “I’ll wheel ya, you just need t’hold the.. The fuckin’ IV thing.” Soap mutters, gesturing to the IV pole. “Soap.” I say, my tone flat.

He looks back at me with his big blue eyes—all innocent like. Fucker. “It’s a pole to hold IV bags on. So, what is it called?” I ask him like he’s a child, my tone high pitched and overly nice. Soap’s face tints pink and taps the wheelchair with his foot, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “You have an attitude, might I say.” Soap lets out a nervous laugh; he’s embarrassed and nothing is making me happier than this moment right now. I grunt as I allow Soap to help me into the wheelchair. My legs happen to be fine, but my stomach and ribs are still quite tender and sore.

“It’s called an IV pole, Soap.”

“Jesus Christ, I know.”

I hate to admit it, but Soap is a pretty good babysitter. I don’t think many people would willingly take me out of my room and help me get some fresh air, at least not like this. We’ve gone a couple of laps around the ward I’m allowed to roam and in a way, I’m appreciative of him allowing me to grasp more of the area I’m in. I wonder if he’s ever been in my position, or has known someone to be in a similar position? Bedbound, anxious? …Paranoid?

I wonder.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts as I hear a light beep from my right. I turn my head to where my IV pole, the little electronic box attached to it is lit up. “Hm?” Soap hums, his eyes trailing to where I’m looking. He grabs the pole and spins it towards himself, eyes scanning over the screen. Soap’s lips part for a second in understanding, but my eyes stay on the scar hidden underneath his mess of stubble. “Jus’ administerin’ more painkillers. It’s on a timer.”

I force myself to look away with a nod. I nearly slip back into my thoughts when I feel Soap begin to pull the wheelchair backwards. My eyes widen and I quickly grab the IV pole to drag along. I twist my head to face him the best I can despite the screw in my jaw. “Where are we going? My room’s just down the hall.” I question, turning my head, watching the door get smaller in size. Soap hums, turning the wheelchair around to push to where he was pulling it. He doesn’t answer me.

My fingers twitch around the IV pole and I quickly stop myself. Stop. Soap would’ve hurt me already if he wanted to. He has a pistol in the holster against his hip right on his belt. If he were to wish to hurt me, he would’ve already spilled my brains. Shut the fuck up.

Like you spilled hers?

What?

I blink, a beat passes, and we’re in a different hallway. One I haven’t seen before. “Soap..?” I ask louder, my heart fluttering in my chest. I’m getting nervous. Soap bends down to my ear; I can feel the wheelchair adjust under the added weight on the handles. “S’alright, just goin’ to take a longer walk. New areas, fresher air.” Soap murmurs, his breath brushing against my ear. I let out a harsh breath as he stood up straight, and.. And that fucker is humming. “Is this even allowed?” I ask, my voice quiet as my eyes dart around.

Soap lets out a laugh, slowing down a bit with his walking. “Does it matter? I’ve done much worse, this is nothin’.” 

“I don’t want to get in trouble,” I protest, but my protests are clearly weak because the bastard continues to push me down the hall. Soap lets out an amused chuckle, one of his hands coming down on my shoulder, squeezing it through my hospital gown. I flinch a bit as I didn’t expect him to touch me. “Ye’ll be fine. I’ll take the fall if it comes down to it.” His touch was gentle.

I go to argue with him again because it’s likely that it wouldn't work and wouldn’t matter, but I decide against it. Only then does his hand return to the other handle of the wheelchair. 

That’s one thing I’ve noticed about men like Soap. They’re much more touchy than you would think they would be. Most folks think that military men would have an aversion to touch, they think that these men are the epitome of their versions of masculinity. Men like Soap, though? They have no problems giving each other a hug, have no quarrels giving each other a forehead bump with each other. Hell, when you’re stuck in the middle of a blizzard, you don’t get choices; you huddle and cuddle, or you fucking die.

Soap’s touch, though.. His hand was heavy, big. Radiating heat like a portable heater through my hospital gown. It makes me wonder if his teammates are the same? They’re all in one task force, they must have seen some shit together, been through shit together. Hm. 

Soap could’ve survived the harsh winters I had been through due to him. 

Maybe. Maybe not.

I shouldn’t keep thinking of him right now, not when I don’t have to, but he won’t fucking leave my brain. I can almost hear his voice sometimes and it’s absolutely nauseating. I can’t say that I was the closest to him, but I was pretty damn up there in his ranks. I was always a go-to for a multitude of things. Things I no longer wish to fucking remember. Maybe he should’ve ended me right now. Maybe I should’ve finished the job when I got the chance.

His men were kind of touchy which was never surprising to me. Being under harsh conditions together, relying on each other to keep the other safe? It creates a bond like no other. They tended to be touchy with me in due time, too. I’m not sure how I was able to handle it for so long. Every brush of their hands on my shoulders, every shoulder and elbow bump, it felt like hot irons painfully maiming my skin, branding me for everything I’ve done.

He was touchy at times, too. It made me wanna vomit. 

..Well, now it does. At the moment, though, not really. Which just.. Makes everything worse. One part of me wishes I refused the assignment. I truly fucking feel like I should’ve. Now he’s everywhere in my life, invading the parts he was never supposed to be in. It’s not like I exactly expected this assignment to go incredibly smoothly, no. That’s quite frankly really fucking stupid to do, but I at least expected this to be smoother than it has been. Perhaps that’s been my flaw this entire time, I’m not sure. 

With him, you can never know. That’s one thing that I had to learn pretty damn quick. If you thought you knew what his plans were, you better backtrack five steps and rethink it all because you are definitely not on the right track. I guess that’s one thing I can give him; he’s always been intelligent, so much so to an annoying degree. With every report I gave, it felt like everything I was finding out was contradictory to my previous report. Even now, is the information I’m giving the 141 accurate? 

I’m not even sure anymore, not after the fact that he left me alive in that warehouse. I seriously doubt he left me alive for a reason. He’s the one who’s always put two in the head to make sure the person was dead. That’s perhaps the singular good thing he ever taught me.

I feel those leathers hands on my shoulders in my dreams.

There’s a touch on my shoulder and I jolt out of my thoughts, jerking my shoulder away, causing a lightning bolt of pain to pulse through my arm. I hiss, my hand grabbing my shoulder. “Shit,” Soap’s voice filters through my ears, and it does little to calm my pounding heart. When did it start pumping this hard..? “Are ye alrigh’? Didnae mean to startle you.” 

Fucking hell.

My hand is on my chest, feeling the desperate pound underneath. I realize I haven’t answered him and I give him a little nod. “Just startled me, is all.” I croak out. It takes me a second to look around, to get my bearings. “Was worried for a sec, was talkin’ an’ ya didn’t respond. Couldn’t tell if you were spaced out or ignorin’ me.” Soap jests. We’re still in a hallway, but possibly a different wing?--- The hallway of my ward had a long red strip in the middle of the wall, following the hallway. The stripe on this wall is yellow. I need to focus and pay attention, Jesus Christ. 

“Was thinking,” I utter. “Sorry.”

“About?” Soap begins to push the wheelchair again; my fingers twitch around the IV pole. How am I supposed to explain that? Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? 

How am I supposed to tell him I was thinking about him?

“Just..” I begin, my lip twitching as I rack my brain for an excuse. “I had a—”

“OI!”

I flinch at the booming voice from down the hall, jolting so hard in my wheelchair it scoots forward a bit. My free hand instinctively forms into a fist as suddenly, it was an empty hall and now I’m back in a fucking warehouse with a pistol in my hands. The, the fucking smell of the warehouse burns my nose, the concrete floor caked in blood and somebody’s organs—looks like a kidney, honestly. I don’t fucking know, what the fuck is happening? My hand is shaking; my finger is still on the trigger. My hand is vibrating. I pulled it, didn’t I? I glance forwards where the puddle is and there’s two bodies. I don’t.. I don’t remember their names, but fucking hell. 

“Don’t fret over them. They lived and died like the dogs they were.”

‘They were fucking human beings! They had lives, fucking friends and family, aspirations! Don’t tell me who and what to not fret over, you fucking freak!’ I try to scream at him—he’s behind me. My mouth opens and it’s moving, but nothing is leaving. I cough and choke, dropping the pistol, which rattles against the ground with a clank. My throat is tight and I reach for it, my eyebrows furrowed. I pull my fingers back and they’re slick and hot with my blood.

Fuck. FUCK. 

I blink; he stands in front of me, holding the pistol. His fucking.. Leather gloves, holding the grip, his finger hovering over the trigger. Am I dreaming? 

Please fucking tell me I’m dreaming.

The gun is aimed at my head and my hands naturally raise upwards—fuck, I can’t stop shaking! Cold sweat drips down my temple—he aims at my stomach and the pistol fires, so loud that my ears ring. I flinch, and I feel horrible bile bubble up in my throat as fierce, hot pain lights up my stomach. I try to talk but that vomit decides to bubble and hurl out of my mouth. I bend over, my eyes filling with hot tears.

It hurts—it hurts so fucking bad and none of this makes sense. 

It fucking burns.

I blink—and I gasp, and suddenly I’m back in the hospital. My vision is blurring, I’m laying down on something—it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts—

“I know it does, I know.” A deep voice says. Soap? 

..M–

No, it’s Soap. Soap.

It isn’t him.

There’s hands on my wrists, holding them down at my sides as someone wraps something around my head, something bumping against my nostrils. I feel vomit bubble out of my mouth and—then it’s dark.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been out, but my head fucking hurts. And so does my stomach.. And my back… and my jaw. Along with everything else.

I feel myself laying on a plush surface; there’s some soft beeping present, too. My throat aches and I find it hard to open my eyes. It takes a few minutes, definitely. Once I’m able to open my eyes, I squint to adjust my eyes to the room. The familiar room comes into focus with the red stripe in the room; it’s dark, it’s night-time. My hand comes up to my face, feeling an oxygen tube on my nose. I groan softly and I try to move my other hand, but something is restricting it..?

Don’t tell me.

I lift my head and I look down. My heart drops, seeing one of my wrists shackled back to the railing of the hospital bed via handcuffs. I swallow some spit that accumulated in my mouth before letting my head drop back down onto the pillow. It did nothing to soothe the ache in my throat. “Fuck.” I croak out. Of course—I lose privileges. For something that wasn’t my fault.

I’m alone.

Moments like these make me wish I could retreat into my mind and hide like I did when I was in that warehouse, or when I had committed violent crimes for him. I could blink one moment and I would be in a different room. There’s probably a lot that I don’t remember—I’m not sure how my recounts will be useful. Maybe it’s because when it comes to Makarov, it’s not like he’ll be subjected to an international court.

If they get their hands on the monster, they’ll kill him. Torture him, maybe. I don’t know. Nobody follows rules all of the time, that’s for sure.

I hear the hospital door swing open and my eyes immediately flicker over to it—I see Soap walk in with two plates of food. His eyes glance over to me and he lights up for a moment before he looks a bit somber. “Hey, you’re awake.” Soap utters; his voice is a special type of soft. Guilt, probably. “Yeah.” I respond quietly, my handcuffed hand twitching a bit. He walks over and grabs the rolling over-bed tray, carefully rolling it over my lower body. My eyes track his movements as he does. Soap sets the plate down before clicking a button on my bed, slowly sitting up the head of it.

I glance down at the food. I’m definitely hungry, but I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to hold down. I wince, the pain jaw aching from the angle change. “Sorry.” Soap murmurs, his own plate of food in one hand, the other reaching back to drag a chair closer to my bed. I just hum, closing my eyes for a moment in an attempt to calm the throbbing in my jaw. My eyes open after a moment and I look at the food once more. Definitely more appetizing now, and I notice Soap only got light foods, stuff you can hold down with an upset stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Soap utters, leaning closer, picking at his food. I look at him, seeing how his brow is furrowed and he’s kind of pouting. My lip twitches from the display. He looks up from his plate to me, lifting his plastic fork to dig it into the fat of his lower frowning lip. “You were right, y’know? Handcuffed ‘cause of me.” He mumbles, letting out a sigh. He seems genuinely apologetic, and a bit guilty for what happened earlier. 

“Partially my fault,” I respond, trying to minimize the movement of my jaw. “Had a little freak out. I don’t do so well with yelling, it seems.”

“So you say.” Soap immediately quips before he sinks down a little. “Too much?”

“Just a bit.”

He nods in response, eating a little piece of overly cooked steak. “Got it.” Soap chews it and swallows it, eyeing me. “Not eatin’, hm? Pain?”

I let out a tense sigh and I mutter a quick, “yeah”. Without missing a beat, Soap leans over and clicks the nurse button in order for a nurse to come to my room. “Bit weird, I thought it was on a dispensary timer.” He responds, but gives a shrug. His eyes scan my face, which causes me to look away for a moment because his eye contact is, I don’t know. It’s bothering me right now. “Do ye want t’talk about what happened?” Soap questions. I can hear food in his mouth.

Do I want to talk about what happened? Would it be for the record?

“I don’t know.” I respond honestly. “I barely remember it.” That isn’t exactly a lie. “It makes me feel like I’m losing it if I do.”

I glance at Soap and he takes a moment to process my words, chewing whatever's stuffed into his mouth from his plate. “Everybody has their demons, [name],” Soap murmurs, his voice deep and gritty. His words hold a heavy weight to them, and I feel a metaphorical weight on my chest for a second. “There’s no shame.”

I let out a huff. “I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last, huh?” I mumble. “Aye.” Soap responds. He goes to speak once more, but a nurse, the one from the beginning, walks in with a concerned face. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice tight. I swallow hard. “My, uh, jaw.. Everything else, it all hurts.” I try to explain, trying to keep my voice steady but there’s an uncomfortable croak to it.

I watch the nurse walk over to the IV pole and fiddle with the lines. I then close my eyes and lay my head back against the pillow properly, the nausea kind of getting to me. I have this uncomfortable, empty feeling in my belly and it’s almost anxiety inducing. Maybe it’s from anxiety in general. I don't know. 

How do you recover from something like this? Do I deserve to recover from something like this? After everything that I’ve done in the name for the “greater good”, something both my handler and Makarov told me.. Two sides to the same coin. Was all of the bloodshed and death worth it? 

Was any of it worth it?

Maybe this is something I’ll be thinking about until I die. Hell, I really did think I would die before coming back here. I thought maybe one day I would slip up on a random loyalty test Makarov would administer and he would be done with me right then and there. I wonder if dying then would’ve been better? Oh, I slipped up and failed my mission, I wouldn’t have to be here to suffer the consequences.

Maybe that’s why I am still here. To suffer any consequence of what I’ve contributed to, and done. I wonder if they will still see use, or value in me once they get the information they need from me. Will they discard me like a toy so easily just as Makarov had? Breaking someone is easy, but it depends on how good someone is able to put the pieces back together. I’m certainly broken, even though I don’t want to think about it.

But will they be able to put the pieces back together?

..Will I?

The pain in my jaw eases as well as my ribs and stomach. I think I can eat now.

🏷️; @hardnutpost @glitterypirateduck @elowynnlane @boycigs @wolfyland07 @escapefromrealitysm @tapioca-marzipan @cj-theyoungling @fullmoon-94 @gothgirl6-6-6 @thriving-n-jiving @paniniii @calloumii @the-spartan-himself @bi-witch-bxtch @dammn-dean @jinxxangel13 @meimhem @hannathetrololol-blog @kool-aidd @aliendous @roarndoodles @supernaturalstilinski @blob-11 @cumbermovels @jisungfanpage @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @p3achfairy @darling006 @nyushkawritesstuff @pepsicolacoochie

this is my undercover series taglist. if you wish to be tagged, let me know. if you are wrongfully tagged or no longer want to be, let me know! absolutely no hard feelings.

[calicovobo]

Cat Chronicles

Summary: The snippets of life captured by a stray cat. 

Word Count: 927

A/N: Hello! This is my first piece of writing on this page, I hope you enjoy! <3

Part Two

You loved looking at buildings. As a cat who barely reaches the bottom of a park bench, buildings were always so tall and intriguing. The buildings with the pretty string lights draped across to the classic solid concrete ones that parents warn their children not to get close to unless they wanted to get taken by some villain, you loved them all. They each had their own story, inside and out. 

But, what you really loved about buildings was the amazing fight scenes you got to see with a front row view, watching as the heroes with their typical flashy quirks chase and take down villains. And while excited pedestrians had to stay back and cheer from a distance, you got to be right up close to the battle scene. You admit that you were quite a fan of these heroes, and in a classic cat feature, the bright lights never failed to catch your eye.

No one noticed you in your hiding spots next to dumpsters or in alleyways. It was perfect for your small and flexible body, and when the fight was as dramatic as they are, the attention is always pinpointed in a separate direction from you. 

“Great capture tonight Eraserhead, you just gotta finish up signing some forms and we’ll take care of the clean-up.” 

After a rather mediocre battle at 2AM, Aizawa couldn’t wait to go home and sleep. But as he was watching the clean-up crew start moving debris and damaged parts around the area, he saw in the corner of his eye a small figure trapped under a slanted plank of wood. 

‘Aw great, how am I supposed to get out of this’ you thought as you watched this giant piece of wood encapsulate your hiding spot. You just wanted to watch the infamous Eraserhead take down a villain! But instead your excitement made you too greedy for action and you found yourself trapped when they were battling. The slanted plank fell low enough to the point that you couldn’t fit to escape. 

‘Maybe I can slither into this tiny crack…yeah that may work- or or maybe when they do recycling tomorrow I can run out and leave!’ With your brain rushing to come up with ideas, you didn’t notice the slow but deliberate footsteps coming your way. 

“Come here, sorry for getting you caught up in the fight.” Startled, you watched as he, with his big strong muscles hidden by his classic dark fabric, lifted the plank and set it aside roughly. Looking up at him with your big green eyes and tri-colored fur, he was enamored by just how cute you were. Your calico coat was just so pretty and with those kind eyes, he couldn’t help but wonder if you were someone's beloved pet they lost. 

‘Big hero man is looking at me!’ You couldn’t believe that the hero of the night just became your personal hero! What a dream come true to be so close to one of your many idols! Your enthusiastic chirps and meows brought a soft smile to the tired hero’s face. 

“I’m glad one of us has enough energy to last the night.” Though he adored your obvious passionate energy, he couldn’t help but worry if you really were someone’s pet with just how trusting you are. He gladly complied as your warm body curled around and rubbed against his legs, just begging for pets. 

“Does this cat have an owner?” Aizawa asked as a member of the clean-up crew walked past with his big hands still giving you rubs. 

The worker was surprised as Eraserhead was infamous for leaving right away after his duty was done. “H-huh? Um, no I don’t think I’ve ever seen that cat before. Maybe it belongs to one of the buildings nearby and just got lost? I can contact the shelter to get it out of your way.” 

“No need. I can deal with it.” Aizawa said as he continued complying to your needy cravings of pets. The scene would make anyone freeze in their steps; a hero known for their deadpan and tired attitude petting a very happy and affectionate calico cat who was sticking to him like glue. 

‘Oh my gosh I love him!. Right there right there! It feels so good.’ It was impossible not to hide your pleasure as Aizawa rubbed behind your ears. You were putty in his hands and didn’t want the night to ever end! 

“Do you belong to anyone tiny? I have to go soon, got a class full of brats to teach tomorrow, tch.” He knew you couldn’t answer him but he didn’t want to leave you out here all alone. He was aware of the animal and cat haters who weren’t afraid to kick you aside, especially with how friendly you are towards humans. But, as the sky continued to get darker and as he remembered that he had an early class to attend to tomorrow, he knew he had to leave eventually. 

Aizawa had thoughts of just taking you into his arms and bringing you home with him but, if you really did have a family looking for you, he didn’t want to take you from that spot just yet. You looked at him curiously as he spiraled into a mental debate with himself. And, just as he was about to make his decision, you gave him one last head bump to his leg and hurried away. 

You loved humans but you were a cat meant to explore and venture, nothing could hold you back!

[laduenadelswing]

Lovegame

Vox x female reader

Chapter one

Never in her life has she seen a sky, red like velvet, no sun just a pentagram. Where was she… She ran down the hill unsure of where she might stay for the night. Every shop had to do something with hell, it was pretty out of her ordinary life. Could she really be in hell. The last thing she remembered was a car. Everyone looked strange, some demons looked like animals. Other demons looked liked a mixure between human and animal, some demons ate their companions,. She was scared, alone and did not even know how she got there. She decided to go into a club, maybe she could meet someone there to go sleep. If it worked in Hollywood it will work here as well. Some demons stood in front of some screens. They looked like flies, hellhounds, rotten butterflies, everyone had something twisted in them.

“Vox entertainment stock reaches an all time high.”

“Vox tec is shining with new technology to keep you safe.”

“Vox tec keeps you safe”

“Trust us” Those praises and commercials ran trough every television, computer, phone and billboard in hell. Hell it’s funny that she ended here. She never thought that heaven or hell exists. Now she felt really stupid.

She saw how famous this ‘’Vox’’ was and how many people glued in front of his screens, his influence was present. If anybody knew one or two things about influence it must have been her. How she despised the fame. The night was still young, especially in hell there is always something going on. ‘’If I am already in hell I can still make the best of it. Can´t get any worse. Maybe there is a Club or a Bar where I can find a place to sleep otherwise I might and up as an easy meal.’’ She tought.  

Amidst the chaos and clamor the consent club is a haven for the most adventurous demons of hell. Of course the Club belonged to one of Valentinos close friends. “Vox what is going on your so stressed, Chico. Always working and stressed. Maybe you should shoot your lowest paying employees too. That helps a lot.” Vox sighed. “I wish to shoot them sometimes but it´s not good for the image of Vox tec, you know.”  Vox never could deal with stress like his hot heated friend. It´s not his business. “You know I have whores for every fantasy you could ever have. “Valentino whispered with a mischievous grin. They sat in one of the most exquisite launches drinking Vodka and champagne, smoking cigars ignoring all their future worries while the techno music blasted through the dancefloor.  Vox was focused on his drink while Valentino scanned the dancefloor for a quite some time. “Oi Vox, darling look at this beautiful Chika. She seems like your kink! I bet I can make her a Star.” At first Vox scanned the crowed the ocean of drunk and drugged demons, it almost made it hard to single out someone. Certainly, it didn´t help that Val was smoking like a chimney, red smoke blurring the TV demons sight.

There she was. His LEDs led up. He has never been so captivated, intrigued and tempted in his life before. Vox a demon who only cared about money and power was interested in an demon? Val couldn´t believe his eyes. It must be snowing in hell, surely. She didn’t look like a demon at all. His eyes fixed on a woman unlike any he had ever seen. She was shrouded in an air of mystique and allure, her almost angelic beauty as captivating as the flickering lights of the club. She embodied every fantasy Vox has ever harbored. Vox’s friend and frequent patron of the “consent” Club noticed Vox´s gaze with a smile. “Well, well, Vox, what do we have here? Caught in the throes of infatuation?” They watched her dancing. For someone who seems so innocent she danced like the devil. The music pulsing through her veins and stringing her like a puppet.

Vox´s LED cheeks flushed. His wires sparked, uncontrollable, he rebooted and felt like he has been born in this very moment. His big charming smile had a dark, primal note. “She´s… she´s something else, Valentino” he murmured, his voice laced with awe. Valentino chuckled his eyes gleaming with predatory interest. “I know exactly what she is Vox. She is a rare find, a woman who knows what she wants and isn´t afraid to take it.” He leaned a little bit closer “I´ve been watching her for a while now and I believe that she might be the key to a very lucrative deal, indeed.”

Vox´s eyes widened, his fascination momentarily overshadowed by Valentino´s words “A deal?” he asked, intriqued.

“It’s a plan. A plan that could make us very powerful.” As Valentino began to outline his plan, Vox found himself drawn to a web of intrigue and temptation. The promise of riches and influence was intoxicating, Vox could not resist this power. Deep down he couldn´t shake off the image of her smile. This was his ticket to get to the top. Maybe this must be at the cost of something far more precious. His heart.

He kept watching. There was something odd about her. She had the aura, the looks, the smile. Some demons came up to her to ask her for a picture. ‘’Odd’’ Vox thought. If she is famous he should know her, if it is a more sexual kind of fame Valentino definitely knew her by name. ‘’ Vox, honey you know that we are in a sex club, right. Maybe you should go talk to her.’’ Valentino proposed. In this moment he wanted to punch him to the ground. How can Val think that she is up for something like that. ”I bet she is into you Vox. The ladies have a thing for you, your just too busy to notice it.’’ He said with a seductive tone in his voice. “I noticed that, I am not too busy. I am not interested.’’ He stated as Valentino rolled his red eyes. The Party continued and the crowed grew lager every second. There was no universe in which Vox lost her. He smirked, she is really gorgeous and parties like there was no tomorrow. ‘’If you find her, get her pretty ass to my afterparty. It will be in our headquarters.’’

Amidst the cacophony of the opulent party, Vox stood there confused his imposing figure exuding an aura of otherworldly power and mystery. His red eyes glew, like twin orbs of pulsating light, scanned the crowd, searching for a solution to a dilemma that had him on edge.

Valentino, a figure of immense power and volatile temper, had tasked him with finding and convincing her for the night's festivities. The task was simple, yet the stakes were high. Valentino's unpredictable moods were legendary. Sensing his gaze, Isabel turned towards him, her emerald eyes sparkling with intelligence and curiosity. Vox found himself momentarily lost in their depths, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. The flickering lights complimented her body and she looked even hotter than before. With a mix of determination and a hint of trepidation, Vox approached Isabel, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to strike a deal with her, a mutually beneficial arrangement that would appease Valentino's demands while providing Isabel with temporary shelter in the chaotic realm of Hell. Also it would made her stay with him.

"My lady," Vox began, his voice a low, smooth baritone, "I find myself in a rather peculiar predicament. My college, Valentino, has requested my presence at his gathering, but I find myself without a suitable companion." He smiled a hint of nervousness on his face.

Isabel raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "And how might I be of assistance, sir?" she inquired, her voice laced with a playful challenge.

Vox paused, his expression turning serious. "I propose a bargain," he declared, his eyes locking with hers. "In exchange for your company at this evening's festivities, I offer you temporary refuge in my humble abode, a sanctuary from the harsh realities of Hell. I mean without protection you are an easy target."

Isabel considered his proposal, her mind racing with the implications. On one hand, the thought of spending an evening with this enigmatic demon intrigued her. On the other, she was wary of entering into an arrangement with someone who, by all accounts, was a powerful and volatile overlord. I mean don’t talk to strangers doesn’t count in hell, does it.

"And what of your college, Valentino?" she asked, her voice laced with caution. "Will he not object to your taking me under your wing?"

Vox smiled, revealing a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Rest assured, my lady," he assured her, "Valentino will not be the least bit surprised by my choice of companion. He has a discerning eye for beauty, and I believe you would meet his standards." Vox said his voice became a bit deeper than usual as he took her and gave it a small kiss.

Isabel couldn't help but smile back, intrigued by Vox's confidence and the hint of playfulness in his demeanor. "Very well," she agreed, her voice laced with a hint of daring. "I accept your offer, demon." He smiled it was very charming almost hypnotizing. ‘’Call me Vox.’’ He insited as Isabel began to giggle. They danced for a little bit and Vox seemed to calm down, almost loosing his guard. He has never felt like this before. They left the party together and went trough hell to his office. She followed him quietly, trying not to steal the spotlight or become the center of attention. One of her special talents in the human world, she never knew how she got into those situation but she hated the fake love and attention. Her childhood dream became a nightmare to live in. Maybe hell isn’t so bad after all.

‘’This is my place.’’ He said as they entered the escalator. This afterparty was one hell of an event. She was used to opulent festivities in Hollywood but this was something no human sould could truly experience or process. In all of the chaos many people complimented Vox and his special guest. They drank quite a lot and took a bit to far. They danced completely wasted and she touched him a little bit. At first she touched his strong arms with her hands. Vox could not believe that she actually touched him. After he melted under her fingers, she stroked his extraordinary face. In this moment he fell head over heals into a pit where only she could get him out. This was the best night he ever had. As the new day began and the night faded away, they climbed onto the roof. She listened to the TV demon as he began to tell her that his life here was far from ordinary. They had a view across hell, which was incredibly calming. “What do you do when Valentino doesn’t want to go into a club?” She asked. ‘’I work, Valentino and Velvet are a bunch of work and the multitude of companies and Ideas are very time consuming. How did you get here’’ He asked. She shook her head, looked very tired and looked defeated into the sky. “I don’t think that I am here just jet. The last thing I remember is my car.”  

[azlrse]

➳ kiss of death (yandere ghost prince!idia shroud x GN!human reader)

summary: was set in the ghost marriage event but instead of princess eliza, it was the ghost prince himself who fancied you to be his but first, you must be in the netherworld/underworld with him...

cw: yandere themes, forced marriage, major character death, mentions of the afterlife, captivity, alternate universe (idia didn't attend NRC), ooc idia & not proofread (there could be some mistakes, please point it out if you find some)

a/n: happy halloween everyone and thank you so much for the patience for this fic to be released. at first, this is mostly self-indulgent but decided to turn this into a halloween special fic. <333

He is a ghost. You are a human.

Two sides of the same coin from what he thought was a sign of his so-called fulfilling destiny. A destiny for you to be with him in the afterlife. It was quite unusual for the ghost prince to watch over you for months as he saw you on how kind and soft-hearted you are. The way you got along with everyone around you as you smile warmly but at the same time, snap at anyone who even dared to lay a hand on you or your heartslabyul friends is what makes you attractive to him.

Plus, his family are nagging him for him to find someone who can rule beside him as his loving spouse.

And they didn't tell him if the love of his life can be a ghost or a mortal.

He was a very lonely ghost; coped up in his room filled with so much technology, books and consoles as he gamed and studied day and night within the Shroud Palace. He didn't have friends to begin with, only contented with the company of his little brother who also nags him to go outside, visit the mortal realm to see if there's someone caught his eye.

At first, he contemplates about his own decision to his brother's suggestion. Floating around the dark hallways of NRC while overthinking endless possibilities if he goes outside. What if there's someone who would catch him? What if he accidentally spooked someone and died from a heart attack? What if he accidentally possessed someone? And so on and so forth.

"Let's go haunt a ghost! I bet Deuce's gonna run away like a chicken!" He heard a giddy voice out of nowhere, making the ghost prince flinch from the sudden noise. Ida was internally panicking, quickly scrambling to see which hiding spot was best for him. "I am not!" Another (angry) voice filled the hallway as the flashing light of the flashlight fills the right side of the hallway. "Hey guys, you two buy me lunch if (m/c) here runs away. I wanna stuff myself with that delicious canned tuna tomorrow!"

As the voices began to draw nearer and nearer, he goes through the ceiling of the building, only his face as poking through it's wooden surface. "Hey, I ain't scared of ghosts! Plus, we're gonna be in so much trouble when Riddle finds us ghost hunting in 2 in the morning."

And that's how he met you. His eyes caught a particular human and became intrigued by you like some kind of rare artifact he obtain from the games he played before. He felt like this was like a dating sim; him being a mysterious entity who fell in love with the protagonist and loved happily ever after as the couple consumate their marriage.

The ghost prince followed you everywhere to learn more about you. From your favorites, your strength and weaknesses, games you play, your birthday, anything!! And soon enough, he fell deeply in love with you. He would constantly tell Ortho about this mysterious human he fancied. How he wished that he would just appear on front of you and profess his love as he carries you into the deep depths of the underworld. Or perhaps, you would even fell for him when you knew that your admirer wasn't just a ghost but part royalty!

He thought that it was just some mere crush but Ortho tells him otherwise that he finally found himself some love. "Don't you get it brother? You finally found the love of your life! Isn't that wonderful? Now mom and dad would be so happy when they knew that you found your potential spouse!"

Idia didn't buy his brother's words but wants to secretly court you by giving gifts that was considered as courtship gifts from his kind. Trinkets of silver coins appeared randomly in different parts of your dorm. A bouquet of black roses was placed on your doorstep and heartfelt and sweet letters written by yours truly appeared mysteriously by the mail box.

And you made a mistake by accepting those gifts. You didn't reject those gifts but was looking forward to see what gifts your admirer has for you. At first thought, you guessed that your secret admirer was kind of shy and didn't want to reveal his identity until they're ready to reveal who they are in the first place.

But what you didn't know is that your admirer wasn't a human like you.

His guards came back to him with great news, telling the entire royal family that the human the future heir liked had accepted those gifts with open arms. Oh, how happy his parents was when they knew that their oldest son found his true love. His mother couldn't wait to see the future ruler who would rule beside her son. His father on the other hand, gave a silent nod, indicating that he approves of his future in-law joining the family.

Even more months has passed by, more and more gifts are sent by your doorstep but he guards didn't left those gifts but by himself. The way his lovestruck eyes glistened as you excitedly open the small box that was wrapped in a pretty black ribbon and has a label with your name on it with a little doodled heart at the end of your name.

While being invisible, he sat right beside you, waiting patiently as you opened the box to reveal the most beautiful piece of jewelry you've ever seen; it was a silver ring, embedded with sapphire gems around the band and a blue skull gem can be seen on top of the band. Idia watched in nervousness, watching you closely inspecting the ring as if you are jewel critic. Without hesitation, you wear the ring and heavily admiring it, making Idia sigh in relief, a weight of his shoulder finally lifted off when he saw that you accepted his engagement ring.

You didn't even know that you're now engaged to the ghost prince himself.

And you swear to yourself that you felt a small warm peck on your forehead but quickly shrugged it off, thinking that it was just the wind blowing from the window you've forgotten to close.

From that point on, Idia would constantly follow everywhere you go under the guise of him being your night in shining armor. In class? He's there by your side, and dropped a small flower he picked outside on the courtyard. Walking along the lonely hallways of the school? You can feel your hand being interwined by some invisible force. Felt even just a bit of hunger and craving sweets? No worries, for the ghost prince himself would provide you some sweets to satisfy your cravings.

For the longest time, he never felt this happy. Happiness was not on his list for a long time and the only way he seek his own happiness was by playing games on his computer. He never thought he could find somebody that would make him happy.

He felt empty and alone for a long time and it seems that you filled in the missing gap within his heart. As soon as the royal messenger told all the ghosts that the prince found a potential suitor, everyone was very excited to see their future ruler.

The ghost prince also appeared on your dreams whenever you went into deep slumber, now finally has the courage to at least hold you and giving you sweet kisses whenever he saw you. Idia would talk about on how pretty/handsome you looked and if you receprocate his methods of 'flirting', you can see his hair turning into a soft shade of hot pink as the blush on his face reddened up like some kind of tomato.

It was bittersweet if Idia was honest, sure that he can finally interact with you without freaking you out that he's a ghost but he's desperate for you to be one of his kind. To be right beside him and to be crowned as the next crowned royal of his kingdom. Oh how he imagined you in a formal attire, a bouquet in hand as the flow of your veil flows through the isle as he stares at you with heart eyes. He can feel his heart thumping non stop whenever he imagines you getting married to him.

But what he thought was a perfect fairy tale has turned into an absolute nightmare.

If love has its own enemy, it's not other than obsession itself.

For you see, Idia is a very envious man. He doesn't like it if some lowly NPC fawns over you from afar, would even talk to you or being friends with you, especially those heartslabyul brats. He doesn't like it how they would hug you or wrapping their arms around you, even if it's just mere platonic. He the only one who can do those acts for you. He's your fiancé for goodness sake! He's supposed to be the only man in your life.

Oh wait, you didn't know it yet but soon enough, you will soon find out that you are the reason why bad luck has occurred within the school.

Don't let his jealousy reach to the top because he doesn't hesitate to make that person disappear or driven to the brink of insanity to the point that they took their own life. He would constantly appear at the end of the hallway, the prince would either glare at you or giving you a sinister smirk and disappear when a person walk by your vision. It freaked you out and it didn't stop there; every single night, you would hear vague whispers of your name, old wrinkled papers that dated back centuries ago has little messages on it, smeared in black and red ink as possessive words were written all over the parchment.

And that's not all, your dreams with the mysterious entity has becoming a terrible dreams. Warning you that he'll come for you if the right time comes (the right time was today). His words made you absolutely scared the living daylights of you, and finally consulted the only teacher who has connections with the other side, Mr. S himself. You and your heartslabyul friends ran straight towards the small boutique at the side of the school, only to see the shopkeeper closing his shop for the day. "Mr S! We need to speak to you and this is urgent!" Ace heaved and panted, his lungs greedily intaking lots of air to breathe.

"Ah my little imps! What are you guys doing here? Aren't you guys supposed to be in the dining hall with the others? And what happened to them?" He pointed at you, eye bags and blood shot eyes as you trembled in fear, both your arms are placed around your arms as if it would protect you. "It's a long story, Mr. S but we want to know about a particular ghost that haunted not only the school but also our friend here. Is there a possibility on why (m/c) is haunted?" Deuce added while rubbing your back as a way to comfort you.

Sam inspected your entire article of clothing to see if there's something suspicious that could link towards the haunting and his eyes landed on the ring rested on your ring finger. His eyes stared at the strange looking jewelry that gives off this weird energy surrounding the four of you. He needs to confirm if his thoughts are true by inspect the band around your finger. "Hmm, may I see your hand, little imp." He inspected the ring and you slowly realized that the wrenching feeling on your stomach was confirmed when the tall man's eyes widen in disbelief. "So that's why you're being haunted.." he muttered. "What's the reason Mr. S?" Grim replied, worried for his answer.

"That ring. The ring you had on your finger belongs to the royal family of ghosts! And if a mortal was gifted with that ring, it was stated that you now belong to that particular family, precisely to their oldest son!" Looks of disbelief appeared on their faces, you on the other hand, felt the colors from your face drain off upon hearing such news. "So wait wait, if (m/c) has a ghost pinning after them, does it explain why they have gifts and flowers appeared on their doorstep out of nowhere?" Deuce asked, out of curiosity.

The shopkeeper sighed in disappoinment, indicating that not only that one of the students has been favored by a ghost but their life being at risk. "I'm afraid so, little imp. I'm so sorry."

In the far corner of the shop, Idia stood there, hands curled into a fist as his expression contorted into anger and possessiveness.

. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You couldn't sleep tonight.

Staring towards the ceiling of your bedroom as you held your blanket for dear life after hearing what the shopkeeper has told you and your friends hours ago. Thank the heavens that Grim is asleep right by the chair because you couldn't handle him seeing your bloodshot eyes and tears are threatening to stream from your face. Even your body tells you that you need some sleep, you still convinced yourself that you are not tired, at least when the issue is finally solved.

Speaking of which, both your mouth and your throat are getting dry but you're still terrified on getting up from the bed. You've become so thirsty that you got up from your bed and began to wake Grim up from his peaceful slumber.

"Grim.." you shook the furry feline. "Grim wake up.." The feline only muttered in slight annoyance. "I need some company, I'm too scared on coming back down." Grim muttered and flipped on the opposite side of the armchair. "Hnggg go bother Deuce and Ace on the other room, I'm tired (m/c)." He replied, dozing back to sleep and coming back to his dream of his.

You didn't want to bother both of your friends in the other room, plus you don't want those two to be teased you off as the chicken of the group, so you went downstairs alone, armed with a flashlight to light your way into the dark hallways of your dorm. Normally, you are used to the eeriness of your dorm. The small creaks produced by the floor as the wind howled outside of the locked windows of your dorm didn't even bothered you but due to the fact that an entity now watches you, you became a bit scared. Every twist and turns of your head whenever you heard something ominous from afar. From the creaks below the floor boards to the falling book from the bookshelf from the hallways.

Finally, you arrived at the kitchen and felt like the atmosphere was cold; the fridge wasn't even open yet and it felt like -5 degrees within your home. You took out a pitcher and a glass to drink and all of the sudden, you heard a whisper on the left side of your ear.

"(m/c)..."

You've became startled, almost choking from the cold water you swallowed as you face the direction where the voice came from.

There's no one on your side.

You continuously drink the cold beverage when you felt something took a hold of your waist by both arms.

"So warm.... So soft...."

Out of fear, you dropped the glass, shattering it into bits of pieces and began sprinting back to your room. Your breathing quickens as you internally panic for your own safety. 'He's here!!' you mumbled to yourself. 'The ghost prince is here!!' You almost made it to your room but alas, your hand was almost cut off when the door suddenly closed in front of you locking it to prevent you from seeking protection from him.

"Darling..." It spoke, making you turn your head to face the entity. "Why are you running away from me? I just wanna see my darling dear's alright, especially when there's so many people tainting you of your innocence, a burden that needs to be obliterated like some kind of RPG monsters and I was doing my job on protecting the one person I cared and loved for." The entity stated. Your panic attack has gone of bad, you began shouting for your friends. "ACE!! DEUCE!! GRIM!! PLEASE WAKE UP!! I NEED SOME HELP!!" You shouted, pounding against the doors of the dark hallways of the dorm.

By luck, the three of them woke up from the sudden noise. "(m/c)?! What's going on-" The heartslabyul duo was about to open the door and that's when they noticed that the door was locked and closed tightly. "(m/c)?! Come on that's not funny, dude! Open the door!" Deuce spoke, ramming the door with his body in attempt to break it open. "I'm not Deuce!!" You also ram your body to the door to help them break it apart but alas, no luck.

The ghost prince watched in delight as the three of you pathetically ram each other's side of the door and sighed in pity. "There's no point in destroying that door, (m/c). If you keep on doing it, your HP's gonna decrease rapidly, especially when there a bruise forming on your elbow." You quickly stopped to see if the prince's claims were true. Rolling the sleeve of your pajama shirt, your eyes widen a bit from the surprise.

There's indeed a bruise on your elbow, it was swollen and a color of blue and violet begins to form underneath the tissue. But it doesn't stop you from helping getting your friends out from their trap. "So stubborn, so feisty as usual from my fiance." He spoke and his words makes you annoyed as he claims that you're his fiance. "I am NOT your damn fiance!! Open this door at once!!" You shouted, standing on your feet despite feeling yourself shaking from fear. The voice chuckled and every turn of your head, various objects are knocked out from it's place.

Tables are moved far from the corner, vases dropped into the floor and shattered into bits of pieces and the creaks of the floor boards has gotten worse as if many people are passing by you. "It's funny you could say that, my dear.." It replied. "You have no idea how much you drive me into the deep depths of jealousy. I hated the way those people whom you call your 'friends' glued by your side, their hands wrapped around your body and it pisses me off knowing that they touched something that belonged to me, and me alone." It sneered and many more items are thrown, either on the wall or on the floor.

"I thought that giving you that ring would make those people would stay away from you, to at least have common sense that the ring would symbolize the ghost prince's love and ownership of you but alas, I'm afraid that I wasn't that well known on your world." It sneered and it chuckled once again as he saw your figure, now sitting on the floor while your hand's still gripping on the door handle as the screaming of your friends kept on going.

"Look into the mirror, (m/c).."

You did what the entity told you and you couldn't stop yourself from shaking, your eyes began to widen in fear as you saw the creature's true form; wearing such clothes that reflected on the color of charcoal and ash, his face was pale as the blazing glow of his hair, tied in a ponytail, began to turn into blazing red from his anger. Finally, his bright yellow eyes that glows a bit from the darkness. His eyes glaring towards you but his smile says otherwise. His smile wasn't only showing his annoyance but something sinister's going to happen.

"I think it's time to wrap things up, my dear. Let's not wait for our marriage to go to waste, shall we?" You felt something that gripped both of your legs, ghostly hands forcefully dragging you away from the door as you screamed bloody murder for your friends. You felt your nails scrapping across the floor boards and your fingers began to calloused from the harsh friction of the wood. By the great seven, the door bursts open and you can see Deuce and Ace panting heavily. Their eyes widen as soon as they saw you being dragged away towards the mirror while you keep on screaming for help.

Deuce and Ace began to scramble on their feet and tries to take both of your hands, but the ghosts that accompanied the prince held them on their feet as they watched you helplessly. They will never forget the way your eyes internally screamed for their help and the last bit of your screams began to fade away, your body disappeared from the mirror bit by bit until you disappeared from their view. As soon as you're gone, the ghosts who also prevented your friends from rescuing you are released from their positions. Ace ran straight to the mirror and he viciously pounded the mirror, causing it to shatter bit by bit. Normally, Ace is the kind of friend whose chill during the ordeal but seeing you being kidnapped made his blood boil.

His fists are sore and bleeding from his strong punches as Deuce tries to stop him from landing the mirror another punch. "Ace, snap out of it! Punching the mirror won't to shit, especially when (m/c) was kidnapped by some ghosts!" Ace looked at his friend, breathing heavily, his hands are sore and bleeding from the sharp shards of the mirror. Hearing his friend's voice in an attempt to put a stop on his rampage calms him down a bit. He looked at Deuce with an angry yet vicious expression. "Gather Jack, Epel and the others. We have someone to rescue."

. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

It's been two days since you've been captive by the ghosts.

Since your capture, you've been nothing but a nuisance not only to the prince but also to his ghostly guards and servants who tried their best to get you dressed for this special occasion. You fought hard, struggling against the restraints of the ghosts while putting on the garment which can be describe as beautiful and pearl-like. Decorated with the most beautiful pearls and laces and to top it all off with a Vail that could leave a trail behind your dress/tuxedo.

Normally, you supposedly gonna rip out the outfit but seeing the guards burn your original clothes, you have no choice but to stay within this...horrible outfit. Despite it's elegance, you still hated the fact that you'll be forcefully married to their prince. You sat on the room, alone as tears continuously blink and stare towards the wall, tears still appearing on your face.

You tried escaping but the security within the area was quite difficult for someone who doesn't have magic, let alone for the others to rescue to you.

"My lady/lord," a servant spoke, opening the once locked door as they bowed down from your presence. "The ceremony's about to begin and his majesty's ready to tie the knot with you." You are about to speak out that you'll stay within the room you are confined in until two of the guards took you by your arm and dragged you away despite your protests to let you go. You screamed and kicked but to no avail.

Carrying the bouquet of black roses by your hands, your entire body still shook in fear as you marched down the isle. Seeing Idia with a lovesick stare is making you physically sick and each march of your feet feels like you are marching to your death. Upon seeing you, Idia fell for you even harder and seeing you in such outfit is making him breathless. Every sparkle and flow of the fabric makes him quite dizzy when he saw his beloved in a wedding outfit he prepared just for you.

"You look absolutely breathtaking, my love."

After all, it was a very special outfit indeed, because it was once belonged to his mother/father ever since they got wedded years ago.

You couldn't stop crying, even after you arrived at the alter as the ghost priest carries on with the ceremony. You couldn't feel such emotions anymore other than sadness and fear. You couldn't feel the touch the prince gave you as he held your hand for the entire duration of the wedding. Ortho can sense his brother's excitement and couldn't wait for have another sibling figure in his (undead) life.

And now, the moment you've feared the most is finally here.

"Prince Idia Shroud, will you take (m/c) (l/n) to your lawfully wedded spouse? To love, cherish and protect them for all eternity?"

Idia looks at you in awe but is disappointed when he saw your solemn expression, eyes gazing downwards as if you refuse to even look at him but nonetheless smiled softly and answered the ghost in front of them.

"I do."

"And you, Lady/Lord (m/c) (l/n), will you take his majesty Idia Shroud to your lawfully wedded husband? To love, cherish and to accept him as your one and only true love?"

Silence fills the entire building, your eyes are looking straight towards the door, waiting for your friends to rescue you. You hoped and hoped that at least one of your friends rescue you from the hell of a nightmare you're trapped in. You can feel Idia's patience began to wear off as he grips your hands tightly, his expression contorted from being soft to being pissed off in just a second.

You waited and waited but to no avail.

"I do..."

You breathe and sighed sadly as you finally succumb to this deadly fate. Idia smiled at your answer as he slides a second ring and holds your hands tenderly, his eyes looking awestruck at you. "Before I joined the couple together, sould anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony? Speak now or forever hold your peace."

......

"STOP THE WEDDING!" Epel shouted as the head of the guests turn to see who disrupted the royal wedding. From seeing your friends, a wide smile appeared on your face, shouting for your friends as thanks for rescuing you. On the other hand, the prince was beyond pissed off and angry, angry that his special day was beyond ruined, thank to those mere mortals. "We've come to make an objection that the prince forcefully married this poor human we call our friend!".

You are about to go down the isle when all of the sudden, Ortho stops you with a firm grip on your arm. His brother's hair began to shift to an angry, blazing red as the building shook on how angry their prince has felt. "How..." He spoke, arms shaking. "How DARE YOU DISRUPT MY WEDDING?! DID YOU KNOW THAT IT'S AN INSULT TO ME AND TO MY BELOVED ABOUT DISRUPTING OUR MOMENT?!"

"I'm not even your beloved nor I agree to be your spouse, let me go!" You said, struggling to be free from his brother's clutches but unfortunately, he didn't budge, not even one bit. "Your majesty!" Jack spoke. "Is there anything we could be to let our friend go? Like is there an object or an artifact we can offer to you?" The prince thought for a while then a sinister smirk formed on his face. "How about we play...a game?" Idia disappeared from their view, only to reappear right beside Ace, startling the poor student. "If you beat me in this simple game of mine, I'll let them go, return to their normal life while I return to the underworld without a spouse. Failure of answer and that resulted to (m/c) being my spouse and spend an eternity with me. Now then," He reached out his hand to seal the deal. "Do we have a deal and agree to my terms?"

The entire group contemplated for a while, making eye contact to you and seeing your distress still pushes them to accept the deal. "It's a deal then, prince." He smiled grimly as he began to walk pace by pace, shaking Deuce's hand and placing two of his hands behind his back. "Let's do a simple rock paper scissors with the score of 3. I'm curious to see what kind of tactics you guys up to..."

. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Cold. The environment is cold and seems new to you. You couldn't help but to sink deeper into the soft mattress of the bed as the lingering smell of peppermint and lavenders invaded your senses, not to mention the gorgeous attire you put on and how light you felt throughout your whole body.

Wait.

This is quite unusual.

You didn't remember putting on such an attire, not especially when you are asleep

Unless you are married to someone else.

All of the memories that happened came rushing back as you got up from the bed, checking the environment and the room you are confined in. Each and every corner of the room was dark, bits of cobwebs can be seen and the amount of light that shines within the room. You are flabbergasted to say the least.

You got up from the bed to inspect yourself. Still on the expensive and elegant attire when you notice something very unusual about your appearance as you lift you hands in front of your face. Your skin has turned into the color of sadness and ashes. You begin to panic, scrambling to search for a mirror to see what on earth has happened to you.

Upon finding the mirror and see yourself for the first time, a scream erupted from you as you saw your newfound appearance for the first time.

From your screams, Idia came rushing from the door alongside with his younger brother. He found you, caught you in just a second after you fell on your knees due to your shock. Tears streaming from your bluish grey-like skin, continuously wrapping your hands around your face to check if you are hallucinating or not.

It turns out you didn't.

"Sweetheart!!" The ghost prince exclaimed, carrying your body towards the bed after he caught you from the fall. "Don't stand just yet my love. You aren't used yet being a ghost."

"....A ghost?"

Idia nodded, kissing your head. "Yes sweetie, a ghost. We just got married, remember? Now we belong in each other's side, ruling alongside me in the underworld as my spouse." His younger brother jumped up and down from excitement and hugged the both of you. "You look really good as a ghost, (m/c) san and I do hope that we got the time to spend some time together as my (in-law) sibling!" You on the other hand, still stiff as a wooden board, is still processing on what happened.

And you remembered it all, all the memories you remembered in the living realm before your life was taken by him.

"You cheating prick!! I didn't know you have the ability to read people's minds!!" Idia chuckled, gripping you closer towards him while the guards took them away from the two of you. "The rules didn't specify that I could use such powers to win the game? Remember?" Deuce can feel his delinquent sona began to resurface, his anger and wrath basically wrapped him like a blanket, knowing that the prince cheated from his own game.

"Now that I win the game," Idia turns to face you. "It's time for me to claim the price." His face has gotten closer and closer towards your own. You felt his excitement from his breathing alone and from the smirk he had on his face. "You may now kiss your spouse.."

"(M/C) NOOO!!"

The ghost prince kissed you in front of your friends and felt cold all of the sudden. You whispered Deuce's name for the last time, tumbling down downwards, finally closing your eyes as the beating of your heart took it's last beat before you died within their sight.

Their screams of sadness and anguish filled the entire building. Their feelings of agony and pain had turned into pure wrath. They failed to save their only friend and began to felt the guilt that they could do so much better for you. Idia reached down to your lifeless body and picked up your spirit from your physical form, carrying you in bridal style, smiling lovingly at your sleeping form. He kissed your lips for a second time before he left your body for the others to bury it.

"The kingdom awaits for you, my love. Rest well, for when you wake up, we have lots and lots of adjustment to amend to."

"Y-you..." At this point, your eyes are blown out, pushing Idia and his younger brother away from you.

"You killed me.."

"Sweetie, listen to me-"

"Dragging me here into the deep depths of this....hellish hole, stuck with you two for all eternity...."

"This is the only way for the two of us to be together!"

"And thinking that I'll be accepting with this new life of mine just because I've married and becoming a ghost like you. You are sick to think that I'll accept you as my husband!"

"I DID ALL OF THAT IS BECAUSE I'VE LOVED YOU!!"

You became quiet from the sudden outburst. Idia heaved heavily from his sudden burst of anger. Ortho came by his side to console his older brother.

"I-I am so sorry love, it's just that I've been lonely for quite sometime and seeing you for the first time is like being alive again. Can you at least open your heart a bit for us? Your newfound family?"

You scoffed and turned away from him.

"Well too bad, you will endure this kind of suffering. As long I'm married to you, I'm be making your lives a miserable one."

He just kept quiet. His eyes kept on looking at you as if he was a kicked puppy. "(m/c) I-" You swatted your hand away. "Go away and leave me alone." Ortho then tried to hug you but you just glared at the poor teenager, sending him off towards the door as tears began to appear on his face. Idia then followed pursuit, gripping the doorknob and kept on staring at you. Once again, your eyes gave a sharp and angry look towards him.

Before he left, he gave you one finale talk before he makes arrangements for your next garments to the dinner party his parents planned for welcoming you to the royal family (God forbid on how he hated attending this kind of event). "Since you're married to me, your last name is now changed into Shroud. I love you and I'll do my best to win your heart like the time I've gave you that ring back in the living realm."

You stared at the ring, still encased on your ring finger as the faint blue light still illuminated on your arm. "As if I'll ever accept you and your sick family. I hate you, I HATE YOU AND THIS HORRID PLACE!"

He sighed, closing the door behind you and locks it. He can still hear your screams of anger and paranoia from the shared bedroom, breaking his heart a bit. Down the hallway, his younger brother is waiting for him, giving him a small pat on his shoulder. "Not to fret, brother. They'll come around soon and realized that being one of us isn't bad." Idia gave him a small smile. "I hope so, Ortho. I do hope so."

And it looks like your entire life is doomed, all because you accepted the ring that could lead to the ultimatum of your once deadly fate;

To be the prince's lover and spouse.

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[marchsfreakshow]

Opium And Monique Gibeau {James Patrick March x Reader}

It's 1938. You've been having to do sex work in the dark, until one client takes you to The Hotel Cortez.

Suggestive, so -18 proceed with caution.

Warnings: implied smut, general death warnings of blood, knives and such.

Inspired by "Noel's Lament" from Ride The Cyclone. Also 2.6k words this time, v proud of myself<3

Your perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

I was holding a small, brown bag in one hand, walking down a street with a cigarette in another hand. The streets were dusty and damp, and a homeless person in every other building. Street lamps dimly lit the Los Angeles roads, cars passing by to and fro. They were full colours of blue, black and white. Greys filled the car's shadows.

The tall buildings all looked the same. Meters tall, symmetrical windows, the darkness looming over them. Coughing, muttering, tiny breaths and sneezing went past me as I ventured into Los Angeles. They distracted me as I thought about the request the stranger gave to me. Throwing my cigarette on the floor, I opened my bag and took hold of the letter.

It read;

"Come meet in The Hotel Cortez. 10 pm, on October 30th. You will have to find the room.

Explore the Hotel all night if you must. I know it will cost extra, but I will be willing to pay more for the mystery of finding me.

-??"

Every read-over made me so intrigued that I did not notice where I was walking. I bumped into a man and almost fell. Luckily, he grabbed my arms and pulled me up, our eyes meeting immediately. There was no light there like a murder had just been committed. It was almost attractive, but the client needed me. "Excuse me! I am so sorry." He just nodded.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?" He smiled and held out my letter. I raised an eyebrow and stuffed the letter in my bag, in turn grabbing my lipstick and applying it as I walked in front of him. "You seem in a rush." He mentioned.

"The Hotel Cortez." Immediately, he took my hand and rushed me for about 5 minutes. Everything in my peripheral vision became blurry as I ran. God, I hate heels. Soon enough, he stopped and I held onto my head, as the rush stopped, and a headache formed everywhere.

The doors became gold as my vision cleared, but the mysterious man had gone. People were back to rushing to and fro, not even muttering 'excuse mes' to each other. It disgusted me. Sure I was a whore, but at least I had manners. However, I took a deep breath and opened one of the doors, a lavish hotel appeared before me.

It was breathtaking. Still, I wondered who wanted to meet me here. Everything almost overwhelmed me. Straightening my posture, I walked up to the reception and rang the bell. I rang, rang and waited for what felt like hours. No one appeared. 'How disappointing' I thought, staring up at the two stairs.

Slowly, I made my way up the staircase, seeing a bar before me. Lots of whiskey it seems. It took up a lot of the second level and added nothing but mystery to the hotel I was called to. October 30th. A day before All Hallows Eve. Not even a decoration, which was quite boring. The glum aura of the hotel only got deeper as I roamed the long, windy halls.

The walls all looked the same and never changed. Elevators on one of the walls. The doors also looked the same. Numbers kept going up. My heels were feeling like hell, so I stopped by a door, and took my heels off, immediately feeling relief. Thankfully, that wasn't the door I was looking for. At least I hoped. So I carried on walking around the halls. I felt crazy, wandering and roaming the empty halls, small sounds coming out of every single dark red door. Before an open door came into my eyes. I stopped next to it and peeked my head through.

What stood there was a lush, velvet room. Dark green filled the floor and carpets. Small tables held alcohol, snacks, cigarettes and more. The bed was bigger than I had ever imagined. It almost looked royal, and I had a suspicion, this was the room.

But what took my attention was a man. He stood around 6 feet. The suit was navy and looked freshly pressed. The shoes were a sharp black, but shiny. As I looked him up, I saw his face. Handsome, with a small moustache, and slicked-back hair. But his eyes made me realise something. This was James Patrick March. But, he was dead. He died 8 years ago. It shocked me, and by accident, I dropped my heels, which made him snap his head around. "Ah! You're here." He just smiled. His smile was attractive, but I stood there in shock.

Very quickly, I brought myself back, and put my heels on. "Are you the writer of this letter?" I asked, holding it up out of my bag. He walked towards me, and grabbed it, immediately reading it.

"Yes, indeed I did."

"But sir, with respect, you are James Patrick March. You should be dead. Did you fake the suicide?" I asked, crossing my arms. He seemed to admire my shape. He looked at me like he was about to make me a new person.

"You are correct in the fact that I should be dead my dear Y/N. However, I am indeed dead." He smiled at me, offering his hand to me. I took his hand in mine, and he led me in, closing the door behind us. We made eye contact, and it never broke. Questions I wanted to ask, ran past my thoughts. But our silence was kept as James sat me down. The bed was just as soft as I hoped, and he went to the table, picking up a drink. "Absinthe. Have some."

"Absinthe?"

"Well yes." He held it out to me, so I took it, not wanting to make him upset. Keeping, almost, harsh eye contact with him, would kill him to soften his gaze as I stopped the gross liquid down my throat. It burned like the Opium someone had me take.

It seemed I started to sell my love for that drug. It kept me sane as I dressed in black which only hit my lower thigh, the fishnets ripped in places I didn't know. And I always wear dark heels always. Kitten heels, but tonight I decided to make them taller. Makeup was quiet on my face, but it was there. James took it all in, and I stood up, my bag now on the bed. "James. If you are a ghost, why can I touch you?" I asked, confidently placing a hand on his shoulder, attempting to make this whole experience quicker.

"Ghosts can interact with the living in this hotel, and this hotel only." He responded, taking the drink from my hand and simply placing a finger under my chin.

"Does it feel different? To do it with a living human?"

"I have not yet experienced that. That's why you are here yes?" Without thinking, I nodded. Something drew me to him. But I couldn't tell what it was. He was a serial killer, a madman. So I took his arms, brought him to the bed, and then slowly undid the buttons on his blazer. "Take your time dear, don't rush it." He smiled, starting to kiss me, the taste of absinthe finding my throat once again.

--

The morning came, and I awoke slowly, barely any light came through the window. The room was still glum, and velvety. A man came in holding some food and smiled at me. "Y/N. You are awake." Clearly, I wasn't looking great, since I saw mascara smeared on my fingers. But I smiled either way. "I had someone make you breakfast before you left."

"Well, that isn't what you asked unless you're willing to add more to my pay." A smirked curled my lips. I took the breakfast anyway and snarfed down every bite. James was, a rough customer. Nothing like I hadn't seen before.

"I can and will pay you every single penny I own if you're happy with being here." A slight sarcastic twinge began the sentence, but he smiled at me, watching me eat the food like it was my last meal.

I took the napkin and cleaned my face with it before pushing the tray away. James was just watching me as I got up and dressed myself again, It felt good, people would always watch me. I was like Monique Gibeau to people, a classic whore in France who 'helped' soldiers. "James?" I asked, walking up to him. He looked enamoured with me, rookie mistake.

"Yes, my dear?"

"120 dollars. Including breakfast."

He raised an eyebrow at me. The time disappeared. It suddenly meant nothing anymore. Eyes staring at each other. I fell to my knees and heard the fishnets graze against the lush floor. Why couldn't I look around? James, like the bitch he was, started to leave. "James! James please." I croaked out.

"Whores die as whores." I felt crazy, and the sweet, dark black washed over me, I couldn't think anymore, and James had left me to burn out.

Soon enough, though, I brought myself up. Confused, I looked around until my eyes went to the floor. A knife. It was a shiny knife. When I picked it up, a drop of deep red blood fell from it and I stared, holding it. Who's blood was this?! But I dropped it as someone came in. She was dressed as a maid and had scruffy hair. "Has James not yet cleaned the knife? Oh dear. Well, the sheets are clean, that's all that matters." She smiled at me, and I elicited a small chuckle as a response.

"Um, would you mind telling me what happened here? It feels like I woke up from a horrible dream.."

"He killed you. That should be obvious enough."

Could my hands shake now I was dead? Apparently, so, I felt shaky, and I sat myself on the wall by a window. Everything felt off now. Not like I had any next of kin that would feel bad for me, but, I still felt like I was hurting someone. The woman left though, not even a sorry leaving her lips. I felt like I was going to explode. I'm dead? Why? I couldn't remember anything at all.

I heard nothing in my ears, and my heart wasn't beating, but it seemed like I was breathing. Still confused and scared, I roamed my own hands over my body, no scars. No stab wounds. What the fuck was happening?! I was still wearing the short, black dress with everything else. Suddenly I felt humbled. I felt humbled by the fact that I wasted my life being a prostitute in 1938. It wasn't right but it wasn't wrong either. Wasted it, with the drugs, and the various people. Men, women, freaks. Who fucking cared.

Sobbing, I stayed in that room for hours. James soon came back in and looked down at me. Literally and figuratively. "Did you fucking call me in just to kill me?"

He hummed and that was it. "Maybe it was because I wanted you forever hm? And so I can make you a better person. You are too beautiful to be working like that."

"I'm flattered," I said flatly, taking off my heels and not making eye contact with him. "Fine, if I'm stuck here where is a spare room."

"You will stay here with me."

"Like hell, I will."

He sneered at me. "You have a roof over your head, you have food at your disposal, alcohol, cigarettes! You have everything now at your fingertips, how can you not be satisfied with that!?"

"Because you fucking killed me!!" I stood up and prodded his chest with my finger, beginning to walk out, grabbing my purse in the meantime.

I felt his eyes on me as I walked out of the room.

Time passed quicker in this hotel once you were dead it seemed. I was always roaming the halls, soliciting people for fun. I never had a thirst for blood like the others. I walked past James one evening, a tension created around us as we made eye contact. A sexual tension that I didn't feel with anyone else who thought they were high and mighty. "Y/N. Let me make everything up to you. Dinner. Tonight in my room."

I raised an eyebrow at him as I leaned against a wall. He just smiled at me confidently, Well he was cute I will give him that. "Do I have to wear my heels?"

His smile just widened. "You can wear as much or as little as you like. Steal from a guest if you want." James then quickly kissed my cheek and walked off in the opposite direction of me. I didn't mind watching him walk away, but I shook that out of my mind and made my way to another door, knocking swiftly on it.

A pretty woman opened the door and I smiled at her. "Good morning! I was wondering if I could come in and have a talk? I'm a bit lonely here.." I put on my quiet shy persona, and she just smiled warmly.

"Of course my little mouse." She truly was beautiful as she smiled, her blonde hair was in a top bun, and she was wearing a white, low-cut dress to the floor.

--

"James?"

"You look so beautiful my dear." I smiled and he held my hand as he walked me in. "The dress looks so familiar to me."

"I met with a lovely woman called Elizabeth, She has long blonde hair, and she told me she's married to you, but it's an open marriage." I just giggled and sat on a chair opposite James. He grinned and nodded.

"Of course, it was my darling Countess. She is truly wonderous. She must have smelt me on you and took you in."

"Like, your cologne?"

He nodded as the maid walked in with some plates and placed them on the table I was sitting in front of. Everything looked fit for royalty, and I couldn't see myself eating any of this. "My dear please eat this. Miss Evers made it all for you to enjoy. You deserve nothing but the best food."

The candles entranced me, and I was staring at the flames, moving and burning. Everything in this hotel made me feel like I didn't belong here. The small roast was in front of me, and it didn't feel right to take a slice. "Hummingbird why don't you take some food and eat up. You haven't eaten anything since I gave you Breakfast."

"This... James. It's so much. I haven't had this much food in front of me. Let alone a whole roast! It's... overwhelming."

James got up and kneeled next to me. His eyes were soft. He never had that look on his face before. "Oh my darling, how about I give you a small forkful, and we can go from there?" He asked, putting some food on my own plate. It felt like I was a child, but it worked. No one dared enter now, otherwise, I had to die another time. Smells flooded me. Slowly, James took a fork and put some of the food on it, reaching for me. "Come on my dear, let me help you eat." As embarrassing as it felt, he helped me eat. Eating this much wasn't normal, and I avoided James' worried gaze.

We finished our food after about 20 minutes and I smiled to myself, happy that I had eaten something. "Do you feel better now my dear?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you James." He held my hands and pulled me up gently. "I feel so tired now.." The silent tension was replaced with just a comfortable silence as he held me.

"Let's get you to your bed then hm?" I nodded in response, and he kissed me, which felt odd, but nice. A genuine kiss, not a kiss that my clients had nothing behind it.

"That sounds nice James. Thank you."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶

[stellarislune]

Asirel x Pet | impromptu fic

Or what happens when Pet 'ran' away without a trace one day.

ASIREL's POV

"Are you sure that these tactics will give us more profit?"

"Surely, the losses will be big. I beg to disagree."

"Perhaps we should do this instead.."

"I highly doubt the effectiveness of the.."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Flashbacks of the meeting drilled a headache down into my brain.

It's another one of those days where the court just keeps toeing their feet out of line. If I snap back, they appease me with their façade of docileness.

Even with all the power and reputation in my grasp, the fact that I am younger than most of those greedy, old zealots mean that I am lower than them. At least, that is what they believe.

Sigh.

If I crack at the smallest slight against me, it'll be a big damage to my invincible, shiny image.

Asirel.

The most powerful man with powerful connections all over the world. I scoffed to myself. The throne is a lonely place for the Almighty.

Creakkk.

The door opens to my favorite chamber as of late; the room that belongs to my favored Pet.

At this time of the evening, they're usually up and about. Either playing with knives and darts, reading, or simply exploring the room in their idle time. I have not allowed them to come out ever since that fiasco where they tried to use my personal lessons on others. Not that I left that fool gloating over having stolen what was mine — they won't be able to bring mortal possessions in whatever position they are in right now.

What greets me, however, is an empty, silent room devoid of light from the chandeliers hanging above. There's knives scattered on the floor, splattered with what looked like blood. A soft breeze runs past me, so I turn my head towards the window. It has been broken—whether it has been broken in or out however, I do not know.

It's a moonlit night. Its rays illuminated the room dimly, yet with enough light to identify whatever it is on the ground. Several bodies, probably dead, all scattered unceremoniously against the walls in various directions.

"What games are you playing, Pet?", I mutter to myself, exasperated yet also intrigued. This is surely not the first time this has happened.

My Pet has gone to feed, perhaps. Unsated by these.. lucky fools. I think. They always return to me.

Suddenly, the waft of air brings something that smells strangely familiar. The scent.

It brings back the smell of rusty cages, bleek-looking faces, and a rot of something that has never seen the light for ages—during the first time that I have met them.

It's the faint scent of inhibitors.

I turned the lights on.

The bodies in the dark now have faces on them. Seeing such a mess in this room has never been surprising. Pet always feeds as if they have been starved. Like a feral beast without a leash. What shocks me is the fact that the men, albeit beaten up and bruised, appear to be alive.

I knelt down, putting two fingers on one of the men's neck and, indeed, there's a pulse. These men have fought, that's obvious enough. To think that they were toyed by my Pet is a huge possibility, yet something compels me to think that something is definitely, definitely, wrong.

With haste, I grabbed my phone. Calling one of my attendants to check on the CCTVs all over the place. My hands, which were once burning with annoyance and anger from earlier, felt cold as ice.

"Check every footage. Every nook and cranny.", My voice was deep, commanding. Somehow, it sounded shaky against the static. "My Pet is somewhere in this vicinity. Rally my men and find them." I grit my teeth as I put the phone down.

This isn't the first time that you've disappeared. It's not the first time that you have escaped from my grasp, only to be dragged back again.

But this.. this is the first time my heart has beaten this fast.

Surely, you will return. Right?

[phoxey]

Is this what you dreamed about?

Professor!Bada x student!reader

CW: SMUT (18+) MDNI... porn without real plot, Dom!Bada, Sub!reader, fingering, choking, age gap, Dirty talk

AN: please enjoy this little treat to celebrate the end of 2023 ;) Happy new year guys and gals and nonbinary pals

From the moment you walked into that class on the first day of Uni, there was only one woman who occupied your mind. Bada Lee, your criminal history professor, a tall and intimidating woman. But she intrigued you, the way she smiled or looked at you sometimes, made your heart flutter. Your friends always teased you, saying that Professor Lee had a thing for you, which was why she always gave you good marks on all of your assignments.

That was until you got an Email one morning.

Dear Y/N, I attached your grade for your latest assignment to this Email. I am disappointed. Come to my office after your last class today. Best regards, B. Lee

Confused you clicked on the attached file, which summarized and explained the points that were given to you this assignment. You audibly gasped when you saw the total points. It was a failing grade! Impossible. You have never failed in one of your classes. Especially not hers.

After your last class, which ended late, you debated whether it was already too late to go to your professor. Also, you were nervous about what she was going to say. Until you stood in front of her office door, you still debated with yourself, but inside you saw light burning. It would be weird if you ran away now, so you dared to softly knock on her door.

“Come in.”

Shyly you walked inside and closed the door behind you. Only her desk light was burning in the otherwise dark room. When she looked up from her computer, she took off her glasses and set them aside. With a wave of her hand, she told you to sit, which you did, putting your jacket and bag down.

“How was your day?”, she asked.

“I was worried and scared because of your E-Mail, Professor Lee.”, you answered honestly.

She nodded. “Then let’s get to it. I must say I was very surprised and disappointed… usually you are better than that. But in the last few weeks…”

“I am a bit distracted…”, you admitted blushing.

“Say, what distracts you?”, she asked, her eyes piercing you.

“You.”, slipped past your lips and immediately your hand covered your mouth. Your ears felt so hot, they might as well be on fire.

Your teacher leaned back in her chair and smirked. “Really?”

“I am so sorry, Professor Lee, I didn’t mean to say that!”, you immediately rambled.

“But you really think that, do you?”, she asked.

“I… Professor Lee… I’m sorry, this was so inappropriate… I shouldn’t have…”

“You are not denying it.”

Your mouth shut and with your red face you looked down in embarrassment. You couldn’t deny what was true. That woman occupied your mind every day… and every night. It was simply not fair for her to be this attractive.

You didn’t even notice that she stood up, until two fingers lifted your chin and guided you to look at her. She met you with an indescribable expression. Dangerously dark eyes but a playful smile on her lips.

“You admit that you are distracted because you can’t stop looking at me?”, she asked.

You wanted to look away again, but she grabbed your chin between her index finger and thumb. The latter almost touching your bottom lip. She was so close; you could even smell her perfume. And lord, her scent was enticing.

“How about you answer this question and I promise to let you rewrite your assignment?”

As if your gaze filled with desire wasn’t enough of an answer. No, Bada Lee wanted to hear your pretty voice admitting that you fantasized about her.

Slowly you nodded. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

“Why?”, she whispered, her eyes falling to your lips, as her thumb pressed onto your bottom lip, making you open your mouth ever so slightly.

“Because… I find you attractive, Professor.”, you breathed out. You were almost in a trance, lost in her eyes and the feeling that stirred within you, the closer her face got.

“When you look at me, what comes to mind?”, she asked softly.

“Professor… I can’t…”

“Answer me.”

You swallowed hard and you could feel your lips tingle, hers were only inches away. “Your lips.”

A shockwave went through your body as you suddenly felt her lips on yours. Your mouth moved on its own and you kissed her almost desperately. A whine left your throat, when the kiss was over faster than you wanted.

“Like that?”, she asked.

Your eyes fluttered open. “I must be dreaming…”

“Oh sweetheart, this is so very real. If you’re good and tell me what your pretty head has been dreaming about, I just might be so kind to make it reality…”, she whispered and put some hair behind your ear.

“More… Your lips… everywhere. Your hands too.”, you admitted shyly.

She pulled you to stand and immediately into her embrace as her mouth crashed onto yours. She even seized the opportunity when you gasped, to slip her tongue past your wet lips, deepening the kiss. Your hands rested on her chest as hers roamed over your hips and back. A moan escaped when she moved south to kiss your neck.

“Have you dreamed about this too?”, she whispered against your skin and you could feel her smirk.

Eagerly you nodded, which caused her to chuckle.

“May I leave my mark?”, she asked gently, as her hands slipped under your shirt.

“I have dreamed about that too…”

As soon as you gave your permission she began working on a rather sensitive spot of your neck. She sucked right over where she could feel your pulse. Teasingly she bit into your skin only to apologize by licking over her mark. Bada leaned back to admire her work, but she was caught off guard by your look. Eyes half closed and unfocused, your lips deep red and kiss swollen. She almost lost her mind then and there when your tongue poked out to catch a drop of spit from falling from your lips.

She cupped your chin again to hold you while she savored a slow but deep kiss. Emboldened by her hungry gaze and your own lust, you took her hand and placed it a little further south, around your throat. She smirked down at you as she helped you sit on her desk. Her hand was just around your neck, she wasn’t applying any pressure at all, no matter how much you hinted that you wanted it.

It was only when she pulled you into another kiss by your throat, you got what you wanted. The pressure making you lightheaded, so that you couldn’t even form a coherent thought anymore. Her other hand ghosted up and down your thigh, sending shivers that went right into your clit, when she was only remotely close to slipping her hand under your skirt. Your hips rolled forward over and over in an unsuccessful attempt of creating friction. She noticed and her evil chuckle was swallowed by the kiss you shared.

“Please…”, you managed to get out.

“Beg for it.”, Bada smirked and bit your lower lip.

“Please… I need you to touch me.”, you really gave your best to get the words out. In response her hand left your throat and cupped your breast. You whined, that was not the touch you had wanted.

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”, she muttered into your ear and kissed your temple, before her other hand came up and her long slender middle finger pushed past your lips. It was almost pathetic how obediently you started sucking on her finger and swirled your tongue around it.

“You dreamed about me being knuckledeep in your pretty cunt, hm?”, she asked then.

Again you eagerly nodded and she pulled her finger out of your mouth. You watched curiously as she pushed your skirt up and your panties to the side. At first her slick finger rubbed your throbbing clit ever so slightly. Bada took a mental note, that prepping her finger with spit wouldn’t have been needed, not when you were dripping wet like that. Her finger slipped into you almost too easily, and you exhaled a soft moan. Bada captured your lips in another kiss.

“So warm, so wet…”, she whispered. “So perfect.”

You moaned. You didn’t even know if it was because of her praise or her finger that was thrusting deep into you. Maybe it was a bit of both.

Your breath hitched when she added another finger, as she decided that you were not moaning enough. She wanted to hear your beautiful voice when you would come undone on her fingers. And it worked perfectly. Your breaths got quicker and your moans louder, just how she wanted it. She grinned self-sufficiently against your neck as she worked on another hickey. Curse words left your lips when she started to curl her two fingers within you and you grasped her shoulders, holding on for dear life, as she toyed with the most sensitive spot that existed within your body.

The tingly sensation in your legs and the knot in your stomach announced the bliss that was approaching slowly. That was until you felt her thumb on your clit, while her other fingers pressed against your G-Spot. An overwhelming orgasm washed through you and a silent scream got stuck in your throat. You clawed into her shoulder and buried your face in her neck, as she helped you ride your high and dragging it out as much as possible until you were pulling away with overstimulation.

Gently she pulled her fingers out and she stepped back to look at her work. You pussy clenching around the phantom feeling of her fingers that still lingered. You sat there, on her desk, panting and your eyes were still delirious. Your skirt was still pushed up and your hair stuck to your face with sweat, while a few tears rolled down your face after the overstimulation.

“Is this what you dreamed about?”, she smirked and put her two fingers into her own mouth.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Convenience Store Vampire, part 1

The sun was rising, leaving streaks of fire in a dying sky. The birds thronged out of their nests like a miasma of locusts, blotting out the light with their silhouettes. Mortal chattel swarmed the streets, beginning the trek to their drudgery.

I lounged on my chassis, sipping a cup of wine, a prince of darkness waiting to descend upon his dominion. I was the lord of things of the night, a member of the superior species. A vampire, in short. A bloodsucking, maiden-seducing, mind-controlling fiend.

As the clock struck 7, I drifted upright and out the door. Straightening my collar, I surveyed the hallway before me with an aura of disdain. With careful, elegant steps, I glided down the stairs and out the door.

Across the street from me stood my sanctum, the place I would spend my sunlight days. A throne worthy of one such as I, a mighty fortress-

Ah, who am I kidding? It was a convenience store. I was a convenience store worker. A convenience store vampire. The only thing I ruled over was rows of snacks. It was humiliating, but it paid the rent and the blood-price.

“Davey? Ah, good thing you're here, dearie,” Mrs Carter, a regular customer, said. Despite being several hundred years younger than me, she persisted in treating me like a little boy. “I've just run out of sugar! Jeannie is coming over today, and I was gonna bake some cookies for the littlies. They love the stuff, you know?”

I nodded absentmindedly as I unlocked the shutters of the shop, flicking on the fluorescent lights. Did she even know I was a vampire? With some people, it was hard to tell. “Come on in, Mrs Carter,” I told her, flipping the sign to ‘Open’. 

“Speaking of which, do you have a girlfriend? A handsome young man like you ought to have a girl,” she said with a suggestive wink. 

I gave her a close mouthed smile. “No, not really,” I said. Even the maiden-seducing part was a lie, I thought gloomily. Other vampires wanted nothing to do with me, other inhumans thought I was a joke, and mortals were too scared of me. There were those who liked the idea of dating a vampire, but those scared me. Besides, those sorts were looking for a prince of darkness, not a prince of restocking shelves.

“What a shame, dearie,” Mrs Carter said, humming to herself. “Say, my youngest is about your age, and she doesn't have a man either. Why don't I arrange a nice little date between the two of you?”

Her daughter was most assuredly not my age, I thought wryly. It would be more appropriate to date Mrs Carter. Nonetheless, I said, “Why not? Tell her I'm free every night.”

Mrs Carter brightened up, handing me her carton of eggs and a tenner. “That's the spirit, dear!”

I returned a handful of change. The nice thing about the compulsive counting of vampires was that I always knew how much change there was in the cash register. “Have a nice day, Mrs Carter,” I told her.

She waddled out of the store, satisfied, leaving me alone in my realm of microwave meals. That was generally how my days went. I worked in a quiet part of town, where we were lucky to see more than a dozen customers a day. There was no glory in it, no adventure or romance.

People tended to think of vampires as terrifying, powerful beings who played incomprehensible games of intrigue amongst themselves. By and large, they weren't wrong. Most of my kind loved sticking their fingers in every pie and their noses in everyone else's business. But some of us didn't like the high life, and some of us… Well, we really didn't have a choice.

I lounged against the counter, keeping a safe distance from the morning sunlight that filtered through the windows. My manager had had UV protection installed (as per the guidelines for diversity-friendly hiring), but it really wasn't enough. So I lurked in the comfortable shadow of the cashier, elbows on the plastic table and hands clasped together. In another time, another realm, I could almost be a tycoon making a business deal, I thought sadly.

Then the door opened, and I was back to reality.

A tiny elf stood there, her hair pale as snow and her eyes barely tinged with gold. I knew her, though she was not a customer, and I mustered up a smile for her. “Hash, what might you be doing here?” 

Hash was another of my kind, a shapeshifter who ran about wearing the face of an elf-child. People had a tendency to distrust shapeshifters, so it helped when she stuck to one form. It took me a whole 13 decades to find out what she actually was, and another couple of months to understand her horrendous Paliodaen accent.

She pranced over and pulled me into a bear hug. “Jus’ came to check on ya, Dave! And-” She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly.

“Ya do know there's a dead Exorcist outside yer door, right? I think he's forming a ghost, too.”

(I felt like trying my hand at more cozy urban fantasy... Let me know what y'all think!)

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)