#I swear I have a perfectly sane interest about him!

[calimera62]

Me: I like my favourite historical character a normal amount.

The books on said character that I’ve read and/or that I own:

[medics-secret-shipfic-folder]

Out of every single TF2 character, Soldier and Scout are the hardest for me to write for because they have parody baked into their characters.

Soldier is a red-blooded communist hating american meant to satirize the aggressively jingoistic attitudes of Cold War-era America, and Scout is a loud-mouthed Bostonian hooligan who thinks he's gods gift to humanity.

Both of these characters would be the most ear-grating things imaginable in any other piece of media, but they work in tf2 because they're walking parodies. It also helps that both characters are shown to be...less than intelligent and other, more reasonable characters are Sick Of Their Shit tm.

Soldier would be an unlikable douchebag in, say, Call of Duty, but because the comics make it clear that he's a lead-poisoned idiot and more sane characters are either annoyed, frustrated, or confused by his presence makes his antics hilarious rather than annoying. His relationship with Zhanna would also be extremely questionable, but because Zhanna's been stuck in the mountains most of her life, her social skills are...less than stellar, so it makes sense she'd fall for the first man who jumped into bed with her.

Scout works the same way, but to a much less severe extent.

And me, being someone who's really bad at writing parody, can't actually write for either of these characters for obvious reasons. Outside of small bit roles and jokes, I genuinely cannot figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with Scout or Soldier in fanworks.

Compare this to characters like Heavy or Medic, who I am very good at writing (at least, I think so). Heavy is shown to have a great deal of depth as a character and his past is so dark that it can't really be joked about or parodied despite his otherwise funny persona. He's serious and reasonable, which makes him perfect for my writing style, which focuses more on slapstick and dry wit for comedy than tf2's over the top satirization.

Medic on the other hand is just as nutty as Soldier, but because he's not really a parody (I don't think, anyways), he's much easier to write. He's also part of a character archetype I'm incredibly familiar with (the mad doctor), so that helps. Medic is also an extremely static character and this means that he can take a central or supporting role at any time and it work out perfectly. His brand of comedy is eccentric and crazy, but there's just enough depth there to explore.

Spy is another character I'm comfortable writing for. He's a Cold War-era parody of France through an American lens; a not-so-manly backstabber who doesn't fight fair. But, just like Heavy, the comics gave him enough depth that I can spin a story about him relatively easily without worrying too much if I'm writing him out of character.

Weirdly enough, despite my love of tf2's comedic style, I can't actually replicate it all that well. If a character can take on a serious/reasonable role (Heavy, Spy, Engineer, Pauling, etc) I can write a story pretty easily. But if a character is wholly dependent on tf2's specific brand of comedy (Soldier, Scout, Saxton Hale, etc), then I'm shit outta luck.

Again, my style of comedy is all about dry wit, slapstick, and dumb non-sequiturs. Think Gravity Falls, but with more swearing and blood. Parody is not my strong suit, so the characters in tf2 that rely most on parody and satire just end up falling flat in my works because I literally don't know what to do with them.

It's a similar situation to Pinkie Pie from MLP (hold on I'm going somewhere with this)

Pinkie Pie is interesting because, despite being a main character, she's at her weakest when an episode focuses on her. Because she's built to be the comedic relief, she's at her best when playing off other characters because those other characters are allowed to be the straight arrow to her bullshit.

Pinkie Pie is absolutely hilarious in episodes like the Cutie Map and the Gift of the Maud Pie because her antics are being contrasted against more reasonable characters like Rarity and Twilight. Their reactions are what make Pinkie Pie's jokes land. But she fails in episodes that center entirely around her like Yakkity Sax and and Pinkie Pride. And that is entirely because she just doesn't have the depth necessary to take on a protagonist role. She's trying to be the comedy relief when she's the main central character, and it just flat out doesn't work. She comes across as a complete bitch in these episodes because the framework that made her funny in the first place just isn't there anymore.

Soldier and Scout work the same way. These characters are relatively shallow when compared to the rest of TF2's cast and because they are so heavily reliant on being parodies, it's damn near impossible to write anything with them unless you are VERY familiar with tf2's brand of comedy. Soldier and Scout work best in comedic situations where the writer understands that these two are dumbasses that annoy the shit out of more respected characters. But put them in a central role and suddenly everything falls apart because the framework needed to make them likable isn't there anymore.

I can only theorize that this is the reason Miss Pauling is the real main character of the comics. She's morally dubious and certainly mean, but she has her head on straight when compared to the mercs, so when Soldier does something stupid or says something xenophobic, her annoyed reactions are enough to let the audience know that yes, this is one massive parody. Laugh at the satirical red-blooded American, dammit!

Anyways uh. This post went in a lot of different directions. But I read someone's analysis of tf2's parody and satire-centric comedic style and how almost everything was created through an American Cold War-era lens and it got me thinking about why certain characters in tf2 are so difficult to write while others aren't, and most of it comes down to "Are you, as a fanfic writer, good at writing parody? If not, good luck!"

Basically, if a tf2 character can hold a competent conversation, I can handle them. I like to think I can write in-character fairly well, just with some added extrapolation if I want to explore specific motives/how they view the world/beliefs, or just good old-fashioned deconstruction.

I tend to write some of the tf2 characters as relatively progressive as a primary means of doing that and Heavy, Engineer, Medic, and Spy are clearly educated, so they would be the most likely to be liberal-minded. Assholes? Yes. Selfish? Yes. But they don't strike me as dyed-in-the-wool bigots. They might be more preoccupied with other shit but not actively malicious.

Also it's just funny to write Medic absolutely tearing a fascist a new one.

[nyhti]

Just realized that even though Hugo’s glasses clearly break in Detective Comics #472, they are perfectly intact in the flashback in Batman #356.

Usually when I revisit Englehart's run, I just read the two Hugo issues, but recently I read it in full again and I had completely forgotten how much we learn about him even after those two issues. For example, I didn't remember at all that the injections Hugo ordered Magda to give to Bruce also healed his burns. I swear the most fucked up thing about Englehart's Hugo is how much he cares for Bruce. I love how boldly he stated how evil he is and then continued to be the nicest Hugo known to date.

I always have and always will prefer Conway's Hugo, but I've learned to appreciate Englehart's take as well. He might've been too nice and too sane for my taste, but I think he was written surprisingly complex.

I also do not think he had it in him to kill Bruce. I know he said he would do it, but come on. Englehart's Hugo? No way. He would've changed his mind like he changed his mind about revealing Batman's identity. This also makes it interesting to think what would've happened had Thorne played fair at the auction. What would've Hugo done when it came time for Thorne to claim his prize? And even more interesting is what would've happened had Joker won? Because as we know he only entered to protect the secret. Just imagine him and Hugo going toe to toe trying to protect Bruce from the other, not realizing they're on the same side here.

[natsfirecat]

Dance AU with Natasha Romanoff x Reader. Fluffy confession please! Thanks!

Go With Me?

summary: one high school dance can change your life forever

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: swearing, lmk if i need to add any more

A/N anon i’m so so sorry this took so long. i couldn’t think of any ideas for awhile, then my shadowban happened. but better late than never ig? also i turned this into a high school AU cuz it was the only idea i could think of with the dance part. hope you don’t mind and i hope you enjoy! :D

“Agh, shit, fuck, ow, no,” you barely made your way through the crowd of people before finding your friends. 

Why you agreed to do this in the first place, you had no idea. 

All you knew now, was that you were stuck and couldn’t leave.

“Finally,” Wanda said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close.

“Only 10 minutes late, I think that’s a record,” Carol teased, earning an eye roll from you.

You sighed, then stepped up on the stand with them. 

You never really cared for high school football. But your friends practically begged you to go, claiming that you should at least go to one game this year. 

You were very much regretting your decision now, still trying to get away from all the bodies pressed together in such a small space.

“We’re already winning,” Peter said with a grin.

You smiled back at him, not that you actually cared how your school’s football team was doing. You just hoped it would end quickly.

When your school scored again, the crowd erupted in cheers, resulting in you cringing from all the noise.

“I’m gonna get something from the concessions,” you told your friends, just wanting to get away for a few moments.

You stood back up, then walked to the edge of the bleachers before hopping down. 

You kept walking until you stood in a short line of people, silently hoping the wait would be awhile. 

It wasn’t that you hated your school or anything like that, it was just that games like this weren’t your thing. You loved your friends and hanging out with them, but you’d rather do something with them in a smaller, enclosed space. It was just overwhelming being around this many people.

“You don’t look happy,” a voice interrupted your thoughts from behind you.

You shrugged, turning around to face her.

“It’s interesting, you’re supposed to be happy ‘cause our school is winning.”

“Why should a simple game determine my emotions?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. It’s just what I’ve seen most people do,”

“Is it what you do?”

“No,” she admitted, laughing. “I don’t even come here for the game,”

“What do you come for then?”

“People watching,”

There was something intriguing about this girl. Her red hair fell perfectly down her shoulders as her green eyes stared into yours. 

“Natasha, by the way,” she told you.

“Y/N,”

“Well, Y/N, it looks like you’re up,” she said as she gestured to the concession stand worker waiting for your order.

You nodded, turning back around. You pulled out some cash, then just ordered a soda.

When the can was handed to you, Natasha got out of line and followed you back to the bleachers.

“Why didn’t you get anything?” You asked her.

“Not really in the mood, like I said; I don’t come here for football, so I guess I don’t come here for food either,”

You didn’t say anything, but grinned as she continued walking back with you. Your friends didn’t even notice that you brought someone back with you, they were all leaning over the fence shouting as the game commenced. 

“I like your vest,” you said to Natasha after a few moments of silence. 

“My sister gave it to me,” she replied. 

“So besides people watching, what else do you like to do?”

“I’m a dancer,”

“Do you dance for the school?”

“God no, my sister and I both do ballet with a group outside of school,”

You took a sip of your drink before replying. You couldn’t help but notice the way her green eyes never left you.

Before you could say anything, she continued on.

“My childhood wasn’t great, but ballet was one of the only things that kept us sane. Even though it could be hell at times on its own, I still loved it. I would pretend that I was on the biggest stage in the world. Besides my sister, it was the only thing I could smile about, ”

You began to frown as she told you her story.

“Sorry, I’m not quite sure why I’m telling you all of this,”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you said, then thought for a minute. 

Before either of you said anything else, you made a decision and leaned in to wrap your arms around her in a hug. 

It confused the both of you, she would normally back away and probably punch someone who did that, and you weren’t that much of a hugger in the first place, much less for someone you’ve known for less than 20 minutes.

Despite your shock, you stayed there, holding her close. She wasn’t sure why, but she wrapped her arms around you too, savoring the moment.

When the crowd around you erupted again at the score, you held her tighter, focusing on her breathing while trying to drown out the other noise. 

You were smiling widely when you finally pulled apart,

“Can we take a picture?” You blurted out. “It’s just, I never thought I’d have fun going to a football game. You proved me wrong, and I’d like evidence to remember,”

She laughed, then nodded. 

You eagerly pulled your phone out, leaning back into her again. 

Her smile almost made your jaw drop, but you kept composed and kept your own smile while you took the picture. 

“Thanks,” you told her. 

“You’re in 8th period history, right?” 

“Yeah,”

She let out a satisfied breath, then turned her attention back to the field as the final few seconds were on the clock.

“Well, I’ll see you in 8th period then, Y/N,” she told you.

“You’re not gonna watch the end?”

“It’s 56-0, I really don’t think it’s necessary,”

“Fair,”

You both chuckled for a moment before smiling at each other

“Bye, Natasha. See you!”

-

As you sat in the passenger seat of Carol’s car, you drowned out the voices of your friends and began to get lost in your own thoughts.

You rarely hugged anyone. You only hugged your friends on special occasions. You still weren’t sure why you hugged Natasha like that.

All you knew was that you wanted to hug her again.

You wanted to wrap your arms around her and feel her warmth as you buried your face in her neck. You wanted to feel her heartbeat against your chest as she pulled you close. You never wanted to let go.

“Y/N,” Peter said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Who was that girl you were with?”

“Natasha,” you told him, trying to hide your smile. 

“She seemed nice,” Wanda pointed out. You shrugged in response, trying so desperately to hide your blushing. 

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of her, won’t we, Y/N?” Carol said as she faced you, giving you a knowing look. 

At this point, you knew your cheeks were bright red. 

“Hopefully.”

-

Your hopes and Carol’s prediction came true, to no surprise at all.

As you began to walk to the cafeteria, you were stopped by a redhead suddenly stepping in front of you in the hallway.

“Hi.”

“Hey,”

You shifted your gaze to the wall behind her, hoping to prevent the blood from rushing to your cheeks.

“I usually eat lunch in here. It’s a lot quieter than the cafeteria. Wanna join me?”

“Yeah, I’d love that,”

She grinned, then motioned for you to follow her back into the room she just came from. 

Already in the room were two of the school guidance counselors; Fury and Hill.

“Hi,” you said to them awkwardly while Natasha pulled your seat out for you.

Both of them waved to you before turning back to each other.

“They’re old family friends,” Natasha explained to you. “They’ve helped my sister and me a lot,”

You nodded in response as she sat down across from you. Before saying anything else, she pulled out a bag containing a peanut butter sandwich. 

“What do you normally do in here?” You asked her.

“There’s a lot of board games,” she said, gesturing to the cabinet. “Before my friend Clint graduated, we would always play and keep track of who had the most wins. Obviously I did,”

You laughed, looking at the games.

“I love that. So what do you do now that he’s graduated?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Hill answered for her.

“She challenges us to games now,”

“Does she win?” You asked with a smirk. 

Natasha almost looked offended as she began to eat her lunch. 

“What do you wanna play?” She asked as you had started to eat yours. 

You took a moment, looking at everything on the shelf.

“Chess?” You suggested. “I’m not very good, but I’ve been wanting to learn more about it,”

She smiled, then grabbed the chessboard and began setting it up.

You couldn’t help but notice how Fury and Hill whispered to each other every few minutes, glancing at you.

Once Natasha finished setting up the board, she placed it between the two of you.

She let you be have the white pieces, so you went first. Moving one of your pawns two spaces.

She mimicked your move with one of her own pawns. 

You moved your knight, she moved her bishop.

You moved another pawn, she moved her knight.

After a few more moves, you took her rook.

“Yes!” You said, pulling your fists towards your body in celebration.

She gave an apologetic smile before using her knight to trap your queen in the spot of protecting your king.

Fury laughed as Hill handed him a five dollar bill. Despite the fact that she had made a really good move, Natasha glared at them. 

You made a pouty face as you moved another piece towards your king, unable to move your queen out of the way. 

The look you were giving her just made it even harder, but she took your queen anyway.

Soon enough, she had you in checkmate.

“Well, I did warn you that I’m not very good,” you told her, shrugging.

She tossed a grape into her mouth, shifting her position so she was sitting on her knees.

“Want one?” She asked, changing the subject.

When you nodded, she tossed one towards you, expecting you to catch it in your mouth the way she did.

Instead, it landed on your cheek, then bounced onto the floor.

She laughed, then tossed you another one. This time, it didn’t even hit your face at all before landing on the floor.

“Natasha, don’t waste any more grapes,” you said, laughing.

“Fine then,”

She pulled out another grape, but instead of tossing it, she leaned forward and held it out for you to take it right from her hand.

Just as you swallowed it, the bell rang.

“You girls will not be late on my watch. Get to class,” Fury said, earning a frown from both of you.

The two of you exited the room together, waving goodbye to the guidance counselors.

“So, I’ll see you in 8th period?” You asked.

“It’s tempting, now that I have a reason to look forward to that class. But considering that there’s a test today, I think I’m better off skipping that class,”

“Oh,” you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed. “Don’t let Fury or Hill catch you,”

“Don’t worry about me,”

You grinned, then waved goodbye as the three-minute bell rang.

As the rest of the day went on, you had one thing on your mind; Natasha Romanoff.

-

When you got home, you still had butterflies thinking about her. In fact, you probably bombed your test because you couldn’t get Natasha out of your thoughts.

Even when Peter facetimed you, nothing he said was registering. You simply stared off at the wall, tuning his voice out. 

“Y/N,” his voice finally registered.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t answer my question, where were you at lunch today?”

“I was with Natasha,”

You angled the phone away from your face, knowing that there was no way you’d be able to hide your blushing.

“Wait really? Ooh, so when do we get to meet your girlfriend?”

“Shut up, she’s not my girlfriend. It’s been one day.”

-

Well, one day turned into two. Which turned into three, and of course that turned into four.

Now, you had been eating with Natasha every day for the past week. 

“Think carefully, Y/N,” she told you as you stared at the chessboard. 

You had been playing for around 10 minutes, and she had only taken two of your pawns, and one of your knights.

You grabbed your rook, and began to move it a few rows forwards.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,”

“How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?”

“I guess you don’t. But you did say that you wanted to learn chess, right? You could think of this as me giving you a lesson,”

You sighed, then nodded at her. She gave you a satisfied smile, then placed her hand over yours and moved your hand until it had moved the rook to the right spot. 

“Now,” she said, smiling even wider. “You’ve trapped my knight. Your bishop is in the perfect place to attack it, but I only have one open spot. Now, your rook is covering that spot,”

You turned your head to the side, then looked at what she was showing you. 

“Okay,” you said, returning her smile.

“Would you look at that,” Fury’s voice interrupted you. “She’s learning.”

-

Another week had passed, and just as before, you spent every day with Natasha during lunch. 

Your friends knew, and they would sometimes look in at you guys, sending knowing smiles. You would shoo them away before they teased you. You knew they had good intentions though.

“Hey!” Natasha said, walking up to you in the hall.

“Nat!” You waved, meeting her halfway. 

“You’re on your way to English, right?”

“Yep! But I wanted to ask you something?”

“Oh?”

“Well, I really like eating lunch and playing chess with you. But I thought maybe it’d be a fun idea if we went to the cafeteria and ate together today. Plus, I’d like to introduce you to my friends!”

She thought about it for a minute. Once she saw the way you were looking at her, she couldn’t say no.

“Okay,”

“Really? Yay! See you there!”

She noticed her heart flutter as you made your way to your next class. She wanted to deny it, but all she could think about was the way you smiled at her. Rather, the way you’ve been smiling at her. 

She would never get tired of it.

-

“Nice to finally meet you,” Carol said to her, giving you a smirk. 

“Nice to meet you too,” Natasha replied, waving at all three of them.

“Y/N’s told us about all your chess games at lunch!” Wanda told her, resulting in a blush from both you and Natasha.

“Hi,” was all Peter said as he sat down. 

Natasha sat next to you at the table as you talked and ate with your friends.

She didn’t really care about what they were saying, so she tuned them out. She took a few bites of her food, but her eyes never left you.

You glanced over at her every few minutes, making eye contact and exchanging a smile before turning back to your friends. 

“So what are you doing next weekend, Natasha?” Carol asked, snapping the redhead out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“Next weekend, what are you doing?”

“Oh. I hadn’t really thought about it if I’m being honest,”

Carol smirked at you, then at Natasha. 

Next weekend was homecoming. You and your friends had agreed to go together if you couldn’t find dates. Carol of course, was in denial about pining over Maria Rambeau. You would most definitely be pressuring her into asking her later. Peter wasn’t interested in anyone at the moment, and Wanda was still in the process of getting over her breakup with Vision. 

You had been fine with going with them, but you saw the way Carol kept looking between you and Natasha so you knew what she was thinking.

Before you could say anything, you were saved by the 10 minute bell. Even though you still had quite some time before class, you usually liked to get there early to avoid hallway traffic. 

“I’ll walk you to class,” Natasha offered as you began to get up. 

Feeling the butterflies appear in your stomach again, you waved goodbye to your friends and made your way into the hallway with Natasha at your side. 

You noticed the way her pinky brushed against yours as you walked side by side. 

“You okay?” She asked, noticing how red your face was.

You simply nodded, hoping you wouldn’t sweat from how nervous she was making you. 

Natasha stopped for a moment, held her hand against your cheek (which made your heart race) then smiled.

You stood there like that for a few moments until someone bumped into you, pushing you out of Natasha’s reach. 

You ended up against the lockers as the crowd of people began to overflow the hallway. Luckily, you happened to be right outside of your next class. 

Natasha pushed her way against the incoming flow of people until she was next to you again. You weren’t even sure why she did that, considering you were going to history class, which you had together. 

Once she was against the lockers too, she grabbed your wrist, and pulled you back into the hallway until you made it through the classroom doors.

You were breathing heavily at this point, but grateful to not be swamped by other people. 

Natasha finally let go of your wrist, then sat down at the seat she had been sitting at for the past few weeks. There were technically no assigned seats in the class, so she had moved from where she usually sat so she could sit by you.

She got her homework out, which reminded you of the fact that it was due today.

“Shit,” you muttered, pulling out the sheet that only had two sentences written. 

Natasha saw your panicked look, then pulled her phone out. 

“Okay,” she said, nodding as she pretended to be on a call. She met your teacher’s eyes as she continued the fake call.

“I’m so, so sorry, Miss,” she said in an exasperated voice. “I need to get home immediately, it’s my mother. I can’t be picked up, and Y/N is the one who drove me here. I’ll call Ms. Hill later and have her excuse our absences, but we need to go,”

Your teacher sighed, but nodded her head at the redhead.

Natasha continued her worried expression towards the rest of the class, but winked at you as soon as she got out the door, you following close behind.

“Nat!” You scolded as she began walking to the parking lot. “What was that for?”

“Helping you avoid a zero on a major essay. You’re welcome, by the way,”

“Yeah, but we’re not actually gonna have an excused absence!”

“Sure we will. I’ll convince Fury,”

“And if you can’t?”

“Relax a bit, we’ll be fine,”

You sighed before realizing you were standing next to an unfamiliar bike.

“We might as well leave early since we can. Hop on,”

She pulled her keys out, then grabbed her helmet from her bag.

Taking a step closer to you, she carefully placed it on your head before smiling. 

“What about you?” You asked as she sat in the driver’s seat, motioning for you to follow behind. 

She shrugged,

“I’ll be fine,”

That didn’t stop you from letting out a disappointed sigh before you sat behind her.

“Hold on tight,” she said as she looked forward, which you rolled your eyes in response.

As if you needed to be told that.

You let out a squeal when she turned the engine on, squeezing your arms even tighter around her. 

She chuckled, then looked back to make sure you were okay before exiting the parking lot.

You kept your eyes closed for at least the first three minutes of driving. You only opened them when you were stopped at a red light.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,”

You huffed out another sigh as she began driving forward sometimes.

Of course this had to be the person you were hopelessly crushing on.

-

Natasha took you down a few roads until you reached the local part of town. 

She parked the motorcycle, then began to lead you through the streets. You were still feeling nervous about missing class, but the majority of your nerves were coming from the way Natasha’s hand kept brushing up against yours.

She stopped once you were in front of an ice cream shop.

“We ditched class for ice cream?”

“No, we ditched class so you wouldn’t fail. Ice cream is just a nice bonus,”

You laughed, causing her to smile widely. She couldn’t deny her own butterflies at this point. She loved hearing you laugh, and it made her even happier knowing she was the reason for it. 

She led you up to the counter, pulling her wallet out of her jacket as you looked through the options. 

Your heart melted at how she insisted on paying, she went as far as glaring at you when you even started to touch your own money. 

You got a single scoop of cookies and cream, while she got cherry vanilla. You exchanged another smile as you walked out of the shop, taking a few licks of your ice cream.

Instead of walking through the busy streets again, she led you behind the building away from everything.

At this point, you decided it was best not to question her. Which seemed to satisfy her as she led you to who knows where.

As it turns out, she was taking you to a secluded area with a few trees.

So naturally, she handed you her ice cream cone as she began to climb up the tree, stopping at a low branch. She took her cone back, along with yours, holding them both with one hand so she could use her other hand to reach out to you.

Once you sat next to her, you took your ice cream back, taking a few more licks while you sat there in silence.

You tried to calm yourself as you began to realize just how close she was to you. She seemed to notice this too, as she snaked her hand across her lap onto yours, placing it over your own hand.

That seemed to give you enough confidence to scoot closer to her, leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“Homecoming is stupid,” Natasha said, earning a nod from you. “Wanna go with me?”

-

You had been looking forward to it ever since she asked you. You still spent lunch with her, but you hadn’t held hands or done anything like that since that day. 

Your friends were almost more excited than you. Wanda and Peter completely took over for dress shopping, wanting to get the perfect look for you. Meanwhile Carol, took it upon herself to tell you everything you should do with Natasha at the dance. 

You had made an agreement for Natasha to pick you up at your house. And you made her promise not to pick you up with her motorcycle. There was no way in hell you would be riding a motorcycle in a dress, especially to homecoming.

So, she ended up showing up in a car. There was someone else in the backseat, a younger blonde girl. She looked out the window and waved at you as Natasha stepped out to greet you.

“Wow…” you said, looking at her dress. She looked absolutely perfect. 

“Hi,” she breathed out, admiring what you were wearing. 

“Hey,”

At this point, you knew your face was about as red as her hair.

“Are we ready to go?” You asked, breaking the silence again.

She nodded, then opened the passenger door for you.

“Hello!” Came the voice from the back. “I’ve heard all about you,”

“Hi!” You said, waving to her through the mirror.

“Y/N, this is my sister Yelena.”

“Hi, Yelena! Nice to meet you,”

“Yep, so wonderful that you’re here with us, Yelena,” Natasha said through gritted teeth as she backed out.

Yelena rolled her eyes, then leaned forward to talk to you.

“She needed my help stealing our Dad’s car out of the garage. I told her I’d only help her if she gave me a ride too,”

“You stole your dad’s car for this?”

Natasha shrugged sheepishly, keeping her eyes on the road.

You hated the fact that your heart melted at that. You did enjoy Yelena’s company, but like Natasha, you were starting to wish you were alone with her in the car.

“You know…” Yelena began. “I’ve noticed how happy Natasha has been lately. It’s nice to finally meet the reason for it,”

“Yelena,” Natasha whisper-yelled, feeling herself blushing again.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you admired the redhead you were so desperately crushing on. 

Yelena’s knowing gaze switched between you and Natasha, she resisted the urge to make another comment the entire way to the school.

Once you arrived, Yelena got out of the car and walked in without another word, finally leaving you alone with Natasha. 

You met her at the other end of the car, where she took a deep breath before interlacing her fingers with yours. You tried to slow your breathing, worried that your nervousness would cause your hand to get all sweaty while she was holding it. 

As you made your way toward the entrance, she kept her gaze forward but never let go of your hand.

Even while standing in line, she kept her grip tight, but gave you a soft smile every few minutes. 

Once you finally got through the line, she walked even closer to you as you walked to the crowded gym. 

The music was loud, and there were people everywhere. It definitely wasn’t your scene. But, you were glad to be here with Natasha. 

“Y/N!” Came the voices of your friends as they ran up from behind you.

“Hi!” You said, turning around to face them. 

Carol smirked once she saw yours and Natasha’s hands, but said nothing. Peter grinned at the both of you, and Wanda gave you a friendly wink.

“Did you finally ask Maria out?” You asked Carol, who glared in response.

“Why not ask her to dance if you see her here?” Natasha suggested.

“Perfect timing,” you said as the music changed. “They’re doing a slow song right now!”

Carol sighed, then ultimately decided to take the advice as she left.

Before you knew it, Natasha had spun you around to face her. 

She had her arms wrapped around your body as she began to sway to the song. You let out a few shaky breaths, but kept your grip on her firm.

You stared into her green eyes, and your nerves suddenly began to go away. Of course, you still had the butterflies from being like this with her, but the nerves caused by your surroundings had started to fade.

You were no longer anxious about all the people and music, it almost felt like they weren’t there in the first place.

All that mattered was the girl right in front of you. 

“I have something to tell you,” you said, keeping eye contact. She nodded for you to continue, prompting you to take another deep breath. “I really really like you, Natasha. I’ve had feelings for people before, but it’s different with you. I don’t know what it is, but all I know is that I wanna be around you forever.”

She was now smiling wider than you’d ever seen. She leaned in close, your faces inches apart.

“I feel the same way, Y/N,” she said. “There was something about you from the moment we met. I’m not sure what it is either, but I wanna be around you forever too.”

Your heart did a backflip as she leaned in even closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Holy shit you were kissing.

It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, her lips moved softly against yours as she kept her arms around you. You moved your hands up, putting one against her cheek and running your hand through her hair with the other.

When you finally broke apart for air, you both still had the biggest smiles.

“I’m so glad I went to the football game that night,”

“Me too,”

It didn’t take long before your lips were reconnected. At this point, everything was completely drowned out. Natasha was the only thing on your mind as her tongue began to explore your mouth. 

“Ladies,” a voice interrupted your moment.

Natasha glared at the teacher, but kept her arms tight around you, almost in a protective manner.

“While this is a dance, we have a firm rule here about public displays of affection. What I just witnessed was very much a violation of the rules.

Natasha rolled her eyes, then grabbed your hand once again. She led you through the crowd of people until you reached the door.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“Well, apparently public displays of affection aren’t allowed. So how about private displays of affection instead?”

You grinned, then nodded as she led you back to her car. 

“I can take us someplace,” she offered.

You didn’t care where you were, you just wanted to be with Natasha right here and now. You already missed the taste of her lips. 

As you got back in the car, she only drove with one hand. The other was connected to yours. She brought your hand up to her mouth a few times, pressing a gentle kiss onto it.

Eventually, she drove you up to a hill, stopping at the top. 

She lay down on the hood of the car, motioning for you to join.

Once you did, she wasted no time in kissing you again. You couldn’t get enough of her, and she couldn’t get enough of you. 

“Thanks for making homecoming fun,” she said between kisses.

“Thank you,” you replied once she began to kiss your neck. “But I hope you don’t get in trouble for the car,”

“I think I’ll be fine. Besides, even if he finds out, I think he’ll be more understanding once he learns I did it for my girlfriend,”

“Girlfriend?”

“Is that okay?”

“More than okay.”

She grazed her lips against yours once more, unable to stop the smile forming on her face. She had never felt this happy with anyone before, and she couldn’t imagine herself being this happy with anyone except for you.

As much as you hated social events, you found that they worked out for you in the end. You were with the perfect girl, and happier than ever.

Eventually, you’d come to find out that your happiness would turn into forever. All because of Natasha Romanoff.

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: SCP 1678 (Unlondon) x Reader (REQUESTED)

Source: Photo

SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Rules | My Original Post | Request | Socials

Requested by: @lilithisfurry

Ok, so I've done it!!! 😃

Before any of you say a thing, I know that there are 2 humanoid 1678s which are 1678-A (Bobbies/Policeman) and 1678-C (Wretch) and an avian type one (1678-B)

The one I'll be using is 1678-A (Policeman) because it takes too much time to write 3 versions of this SCP (But I might consider writing the other 2, but it's highly unlikely)

First Encounter

When you first met this humanoid, you were sent into SCP 1678 for some test

The police humanoid emitted a loud whistle as the speakers screamed ‘‘Police! Halt, criminal!’’

A couple of others who were with you attempted to shoot them with their guns but were quickly shown to be resistant

Luckily for them, they managed to plant some explosives which caused damage

The other 1678-As went in and attacked them which wasn't unusual because of their hostile nature

However, for you, one of them managed to capture you and ran

For some reason, it showed some interest towards you and warded off the other SCP 1678-As off from you

They seemed to understand that you were "marked" and left you alone

That particular 1678-A managed to get you out from harm and back to your foundation

The foundation staff did wonder what had happened and you told them everything with proof since you were wearing a bodycam

They've soon noticed that this particular policeman was softer towards you as you bandaged up its broken arm

Your feelings for him

After the incident, you were sent back down into 1678 for further research and you bumped back into the sane 1678-A

You only remembered that it was him because of its gesture and its unusual markings which distinguished him from the others

Somehow, you both were able to communicate with each other

The researchers realised that they seemed to understand human speech, mainly English, however, they seemed to understand other forms of European languages as well

Moreover, this particular Bobby also understood sign language and used it to his advantage to communicate with you, displaying some fondness for you

The researchers were reluctant to let you carry on with this test as they've noticed that you've reciprocated the same gesture

Let's just say that the researchers and the other Bobbies agreed to the fact that it was strange for you and that special policeman to be dating

His Confession

Over time, as you both became closer, he worked up the courage to sign to you that he cares a lot about you

And you've found that rather cute and returned the gesture

Which then made you both a rather unique type of couple

The other 1678-As were concerned and curious about this new relationship and so was the Foundation

The researchers had decided to borrow your newfound partner and took him to his new room (No, you've basically kidnapped him)

Needless to say, the other Bobbies were somewhat furious while others were glad that he's gone since he betrayed them for not killing you

Your new partner was somewhat homesick, so you've decided to paint some victorian style art for his cell

Date

From time to time, you both were shoved back into 1678 which just so happens to be the main place for you both to date

Some of his friends were relieved to see him and some would even offer you a hug

You obviously returned the gesture for being so flattering and because your man could finally get laid (NGL yall still be touch starved to the point you'd even date strange beings and objects)

Dates with this Bobby would be rather interesting

Like, he'd hold hands, but probably wouldn't start it during the beginning of the relationship because he's just shy (Just like everybody else here)

Since his face is all bandaged up, you wouldn't really be having many kisses

But he'll make it up with hugs instead

His fellow friends would probably enjoy bothering the both of you while you're there and would pull pranks on you both

If you both were in the foundation, you'd be chilling in his cell and talking bout your experiences in life (Not like you'd have much to say, get back to studying/work)

The researchers may poke fun of you both but would generally leave you both alone

When he gets jealous

Now, depending on who he's jealous of, he would react differently

If it was another fellow 1678-A, he would be slightly hostile and assert his dominance over the others

However, if it was a member of the foundation or anyone else that's not 1678-A for that matter, he'd be even more aggressive and would probably try and kill them

Unless you manage to stop him then it's fine

This Bobby would be slightly possessive because you're the only other person who genuinely cares about him other than his 1678 friends/family

If he sees you having a friendly chat with another person/SCP, he would wrap an arm around you just so the other person knows you're taken

I think over time he learns some boundaries so even if he is aggressive, he wouldn't just automatically send the dude you're with to hell

Unless that person is a crappy person then good for them

Yandere!1678-A

This yandere right here would literally kidnap you and take you back into 1678

He'd make sure that you would never find a way back into the foundation which does concern the researchers, so they send a group of D-classes and MTFs to find you

If he was feeling nice, he would let you wander around 1678 but he would most likely be next to or near you at all times

If he was having a bad day, he would tie you up in a random building and made sure that nobody can get in or out

Would most likely be even more hostile to everybody else around you

If you haven't behaved, he'd probs use something sharp to inflict pain on you

If you managed to behave, then he loosens the ropes around your arms, legs and neck

Probs would feed you tiny doses of 1678-D but only a bit because he's aware of how that affects the bodies of ordinary humans

Their younger sister

You and the other 1678-As would literally be families at this point or friends with the ones who are lurking away from the main area of 1678

And since you were rather new, you were treated as the younger one (That's also because you're the youngest one)

Would probably protect you from everything

You would be spoilt to death and wouldn't have to hurt a fly

One of the policemen would get you a 1678-B as your personal pet

And it's rather fond of you so it basically follows you around

Would most likely intimidate your dates if you have one

Even more so if they're a human/SCP from the Foundation

If it was another member of 1678 then they're more chill

However, if you were dating 1678-C, they'd be quite reluctant for you to be in a relationship with her but would let you anyways

When their kids say their name for the first time

Would 100% be crying internally and shocked

Like, it happened out of the blue since you both were just relaxing

Word would spread across the whole of 1678 because of this

And not because you both were a unique pairing in the first place

1678-A would try to teach your child some sign language in contrast to you who would teach them to communicate verbally

Most likely try and teach the kid to defend themselves and probably attack others

But you wouldn't let him because they were too young (Just like you lot!!! Shouldn't y'all be studying in primary or high/secondary schools?)

The other 1678s would literally yeet their way to meet the kid just so they can teach your child to say more words

And to swear of course

When his S/O is angry

Oh dear

If the foundation doesn't know any better, they'd just assume that all the Bobbies were the aggressive ones

And oh boy were they wrong

You were the one who needs a chill pill

Basically, some guy tried to hit on you and wouldn't stop

So you just casually gave him a taste in his own medicine

Which were a punch in the face and a kick in the nuts (Kids, don't do this to a guy unless he really deserves it)

He somehow got back up and carried on harassing you

Your man was just strolling around the park until he saw the commotion

He had to literally hold you back and made the guy run for his life

Which was a shocker since it's usually the other way around

And of course, everybody inside 1678 heard about the news and cheered on for you while others just ran since they didn't wanna have the first-hand experience with your anger issue

When someone tries to steal you away

Oh this man right here would gather all his police friends as well as the birds to hunt down whoever stole you away

He would be furious to the core and rightfully so

The foundation was informed of this and they didn't blame this SCP

And that's because the person who stole you was from the Chaos Insurgency

Both GOIs hated each other's guts so the foundation just kinda let 1678-A hunt down the guy

And he did along with the MTFs

But was met with you standing over the guy's dead body

Then everybody realised that your man taught you how to protect yourself

And you did it so perfectly that even 1678 was intimidated af

Nobody wanted to mess with you and your partner was relieved that he taught you self defence

When his pregnant!S/O gets hurt by accident

This particular 1678-A that just so happens to be your partner, is rather shy and introverted

Nad although he does his 'job' well, he would rather just stay away from any contact

Until he met you and you became pregnant

This 1678-A would be slightly more protective but would let you have some space

And because of this, you managed to give yourself a papercut

Which was met with a furious policeman

But was cooled down when you explained your injury to him

He was giving you a huge lecture about your safety and how not to get hurt because you're carrying his baby

Wouldn't leave you alone ever again

Even if that means he would have to sit by the corner at all times

Would send his mates to come over to check on you if he wasn't there

Meeting a dragon hybrid child fem!reader

Definitely would be curious about you since they mostly interact with Foundation staffs

Probably would try to attack you but instead got burnt

1678-A would definitely notice your strange appearance and that you cry lava

Would feel bad so he'd try and comfort you

This then leads to you both being rather attached to each other

This particular 1678-A would have to bribe the others to keep you

The foundation realising this would happen

Probably would let you stay there for research purposes

They would most likely help level up your telekineses

Treats you like their own child and would be extremely protective

Most likely would have a heart attack every time you show kindness towards foundation members instead of attacking them

Every time you're in danger, the ones attacking you would soon realise that they've screwed up

Because the SCPs can hear you cry which would summon a whole bunch of them

When he accidentally kills you

He was basically chilling with you until some MTF members arrived to take some samples for testing

They were attacked by the other 1678-As and retaliated

This chill guy would lead you to safety before attacking the remaining MTFs

You realising what has happened decided to try and help out

You noticed that one of the MTF members were about to shoot your guy and managed to throw the gun out of his hand

1678-A notices and tries to attack the member but instead killed you

The remaining MTF members flee as he mourns your death

He would be even more vengeful and aggressive to the foundation members

Which does scare off the other Bobbies

Stayed in one of the abandoned houses to cry alone

Yandere!1678 - A x Evil!Reader

I'd say aside from his yandere self and the fact that he's only more aggressive to everyone else aside from you and giving you some scars, he's pretty dense and thicc in the brain

Probably wouldn't notice that you were working on them for a project in the GOC

You were able to get away with a lot of things because of your small stature and innocent appearance

Definitely managed to fool this yandere!1678-A because of your appearance

You could be just as vicious when you want to be

Yandere!1678-A soon realises that you were just using him for some experiment and were angered to the point of no return

Would most likely try and hunt you down

But since you've already got enough information about this SCP, you were able to devise a plan to leave

Manages to catch up to you but you were fortunate enough to know enough self-defence tactics to ward him off

You never came back to him and he was depressed for all of eternity

Trying McDonald's Sprite

You were requested to bring some ordinary food to 1678 as a test

And you've decided that you wanted to bring some Sprite with some Apple pie, mozzarella dippers and pancakes (They're my soul food from Mackies ok? Don't judge)

When you arrived in 1678, that one particular policeman who is attached to you for some odd reason was curious about the food

Of course, he would need to take off the bandage on his head to taste the food but not before some bribery from you

He reminisced about the food since he loved eating them before he turned into 1678-A

Sprite, however, was slightly different

He never tried them and was surprised with how good they tasted

Most likely would ask you to get more for him though

Foundation staff would be rather conflicted but allowed you to reward him with Sprite and some food

Only whenever he behaved well though

When his kid swears at him

You should've seen the look on his face (oh the irony)

You both taught your kid verbal and non-verbal communications with some common sentences people would say

But never have either of you taught your kid how to swear

Kinda just happened and 1678-A was about to go into cardiac arrest (Pun intended)

Would hunt down whoever taught them that depending on the severity

Like if the kid was using a ton of swearing in a sentence and was directing it to either of you, 1678-A would kill the guy

You were more of a chill type of parent

But would recommend the kid to stop swearing sine it's rude

Most likely wound ground the kind for a week tbh

When the reader scares him (Child!Reader)

Well, let's just say you managed to make the policeman play hide and seek with you

And you were the one hiding since you secretly knew that you were a professional at it

So you made 1678-A to find you

And although he's pretty good at catching his victims, he couldn't find you (Cuz y'all be so short)

Like he was literally in front of you and he still couldn't see you and you even giggled

So you've decided to jump on him

And oh boy was he about to scream out for help

But luckily he didn't cuz the others would whoop yo ass

Probably wouldn't give you a lecture but would need a while for his precious heart to not go yeetus the fetus

He would probably yeet you though tbf

When the reader pole dances/aerial silk dance

1678-A probably would have some ideas on what pole dancing is

Maybe not as much with the term aerial silk dancing but would soon understand when he sees you dancing

Probably thinks that you're trying to fondue with him if you're pole dancing

Definitely would be in awe when he sees you dance with the aerial silks

Would have a difficult time mimicking you if he ever wants you to teach him

Has definitely fallen 1000 times while pole dancing and broke his arms while dancing 10 ft off the ground

If the others inside 1678 see you dancing, he'd be in a blushing mess, especially if you were dancing to certain kinds of songs

Would most likely tell you to dance for him privately so there's no peeking

Having a Pregnant!S/O

Would most definitely be on the guard more since you're carrying his child

1678-A would most likely follow you around like a well trained and clingy German Shepard

You'd most likely have to tell him to tone it down because you're pregnant, not some delicate flower

Would most likely do whatever you tell him to do, even if it means hurting himself as long as you're safe and sound

Definitely would make sure that another 1678 would be around you at all times when he's away from you

1678-A would occasionally rub your stomach and sing victorian era songs

Sometimes he would bring you some of your favourite foods

When you try to commit suicide

When he hears the news he was devastated

He literally ran 69 miles just to see you

Would give you a big boi lecture about doing that

Nearly had his heart jump out of his body

Would constantly follow you everywhere after this

He's basically your bodyguard at this point

Would bandage up your wounds

Makes sure that you're fed well and all and would give you random gifts out of the blue

Would most likely ask the other Bobbies to care for you if he's not there and would even give you 1678-B

Asks the Wretches to keep a lookout to make sure nobody hurts you

Having a hopelessly romantic/easily flustered GN!Reader

This particular Bobby would most likely be just as easily flustered and hopelessly romantic as you

I'd imagine him trying to make the first move and you both being in a blushing mess

You both would exchange little gifts every now and again

Everyone else just teases and ships you both

You both loving each other unconditionally and constantly worrying about each other when you're both away from each other

This Bobby would definitely protect you from the MTFs and/or D-classes from attacking you

You would make a deal with the foundation to keep your guy safe and sound

The foundation witnessing how lovey-dovey you both are and just dies of cringe and sweetness overload (but not as sweet as out 999)

[amphxtrite]

cedric diggory x slytherin fem!reader

warnings: smut, swearing, oral (female receiving), hand job, fingering, riding, kind of dom x dom, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

do not read if you are not comfortable.

summary: Badgers and snakes are born into their rivalry, even in the wild they are practically bred to fight and show their dominance. Cedric and the reader have hated each other from the moment they met. It’s not until Cedric puts his name into the goblet of fire and nearly gets killed that feelings become clear. fluff at the end.

a/n: thank you to @cedricsyellowscarf and nonnie for requesting!

word count: 4.6k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

When you think of slytherins, what’s the first thing you think of?

Cunning, resourceful, and badass?

Y/n L/n was all the above when you thought of a stereotypical member of the house of black and green, someone who knew what they wanted and would fight with a smirk on her face.

Hufflepuffs on the other hand are thought to be loyal, compassionate, and sweet.

Cedric Diggory fit the description perfectly. The school golden boy with a pretty face and a kind personality.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But just like in nature, the badger and the snake were born to fight.

When Cedric first met you, a chill went up his spine, everything about you screamed ‘no’ at him and had a scowl resting on his face seconds after just seeing you. Similarly, the hufflepuff gave off a goody-two-shoes aura, someone who couldn’t relax and caved into every demand thrown at them. You didn’t know why, but you had the overwhelming urge to push all this boy’s buttons and drive him insane. Maybe it was the whole ‘strict prefect, and perfect person’ thing going on, but you just wanted to have some fun with him.

You started small. Flirtatious winks, smirks and checking him out when you knew he was looking. The reactions ranged from annoyed to bashful and if you were lucky he grew absolutely seething.

“What the hell are you doing l/n?” He sighs as you brush your arm past him in the hall.

“What Diggory? Am I not good enough to be in your presence?” You scoff, turning to face him. “Listen, I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work.” The badger snarled.

“Oh Diggory, it already has.” Your smirk, brushing your wand down his jawline and licking the outside of your teeth.

Cedric couldn’t explain what got him so ticked off about you, maybe it was your care-free demeanour; someone who could get whatever she wanted with a snap of her fingers. He’d seen you in between classes, people fawning over you or begging for your forgiveness, only to be met by your stoic face. Your whole being betrayed every instinct and belief Cedric held, and the voice in his head begged to attack.

And so the battle between the badger and the snake continued, you pushed the badger’s buttons, challenging him and egging him on to snap.

“I’m not going to ask again l/n.” The brunette seethed, taking hold of your arm and pulling you back towards him after your fingers brush his back. “Ask what?” You cock your eyebrow with a grin.

“Did the pretty boy finally lose his composure?” Your grin turns malicious and Cedric pushes you against the wall. “In your dreams l/n.”

“Oh indeed you do.”

The two of you were natural born rivals, coexisting to keep the other on their toes and keep natural instincts alive. Both sides are stubborn, unwilling to let the other win. It was destined that one of you would though, these things don’t just end in draws.

As you ‘flirted’ relentlessly, Cedric’s only offence was his retaliation. He had a feeling you’d stop if he never reacted, but a piece of Cedric enjoyed the challenge and almost craved the game.

When the badger put his name into the goblet of fire you almost scoffed. Maybe you had done it, driven him off the edge and caused him to go insane. But as the boy clad in black and yellow turned to reveal a smile, you nearly choked on your pumpkin juice. How on Earth was this fool smiling at the fact he could’ve just signed himself up for a public, gruesome death.

It may be hard to believe, but even snakes can become ‘compassionate’ when it comes to things they are close too, and while you couldn’t call what you and Cedric had, a compassionate situation, a sense of worry and dread overtook your senses.

“Hey is your head in the right space?” You fall into step with the badger and place your hand onto his forehead to check if the boy was sick.

“What is your problem?” Cedric flinches back, confusion flashing onto his face as soon as your hand comes into contact with him.

“Oh I’m just checking you haven’t lost your mind Diggory.” You roll your eyes and flash a sickly sweet smile.

“It’s none of your business what I choose to do l/n, now leave me alone.” The brunette’s face remains firm.

“As you wish, your majesty.” You smirk and fall back to head to your friends.

Despite the internal fight the hufflepuff couldn’t help but almost feel sorry for the way he reacted to your gesture. It was the first time you’d shown any type of kindness towards him. And while rather strange, he knew he shouldn’t have let his aggressiveness win over his true personality.

The badger never found his voice to apologize though, and the rivalry proceeded. You wiped any trace of worry from your face and continued your mission of driving the golden boy crazy. Only thing that was different was the way Cedric reacted. When you first began your flirtatious mission, Cedric grew angry and annoyed at your attempt to gain his attention. He knew you were trying to distract him and he let it get to him.

The silver-eyed hufflepuff started to look forward to your pestering, your flirting was the only fun he got after his name was pulled from the goblet. His schedule became jam packed with training, classes and pity parties from every student who made eye-contact with him. He was happy to see that something hadn’t changed.

The first task came and had you holding your breath at each champion’s battle with their dragon. Your mouth dropped open in awe at each unique way of conquering the task, and by the time Cedric stepped up to face the Short-Snout, you were already on the edge of your seat.

Snakes are in no means known for their love, but it is known they can show compassion in subtle ways. Worry blossomed in your stomach as you watched Cedric transfigure the boulder into a dog, he was taking a huge risk using it as a distraction, when the dragon could turn at any moment. Cedric managed to grab the egg moments before the dragon lost interest in the labrador, and a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders and a small smile shone through as you joined in on the applause.

The second task arrived and the four champions dive into the water in search of their treasure. Cedric surfaced first with the girl who attended the ball with him, ensuring his spot in first. Krum was next with Hermione, Harry coming in last, but with Fleur’s person along with his.

Cedric was rather confused to see Cho at the bottom of the lake. The egg stated the treasure was the thing they missed the most, so the professors must have gotten the wrong idea when Cedric showed up at the dance with the ravenclaw, she’d simply been kind enough to be there as support because Cedric had no one else to attend with.

By the third task, the entire wizarding world was biting their nails at the anticipation of the triwizard tournament. Sitting in the bleachers in front of the massive maze, it made you uneasy you may have to sit through one of these champion’s screams, injuries or even death.

“Tied In first place we have Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter. They will enter first, shortly followed by Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour.”

At the sound of the flare, the hufflepuff and gryffindor cautiously make their way into the green maze, choosing each step with caution and wands clutched tightly in their hands, until all that was seen was the walls of the hedge.

Cedric had endured a lot through the triwizard tournament and he was not going to give that up for anything. When he spotted Harry close by the cup, his aggressive side took over and he tried to beat the boy who lived. When Harry actually ended up saving his life, he knew there was no way he could take this victory.

The two of them touched the cup and suddenly the world morphed and they were transported to a graveyard. “A… Portkey.”

A short man enters their vision as Cedric’s weakened frame points his wand towards the intruder. “Petrificus Totalus!” The unknown man shouts as Cedric’s body seizes and he falls flat on his face, his body ignoring his constant attempts at moving to help Harry, he can only listen to everything happening as he lays uselessly against the ground.

“Cedric! Get up, we need to go now!” Harry’s frantic voice calls as He pushes Voldemort and his death eaters back. The binding pressure is suddenly released and the hufflepuff immediately jumps to his feet. He runs to the portkey, throwing back any death eaters getting too close to Harry before grabbing his hand and taking hold of the triwizard cup.

The two boys are transported back into the maze, but they waste no time rushing out and grabbing hold of the first people they see. “V-Voldemort’s back!” Harry screams, followed by Cedric’s own voice. Looks of confusion flash on everyone in the audience's face, but as the champions break down they have no way to deny it, something terrible was coming to Hogwarts.

Amos Diggory makes a beeline for his son while Harry is dragged away by professor Moody. Cedric is gasping for breath and searching around for something, someone, to keep him sane. When your eyes meet Cedric’s eyes flash in hope and he begins to limp in your direction, stumbling and falling often, but not leaving his path despite his father’s grasp. You stand to question the hufflepuff, but he simply collapses into your arms.

“I-I’m so sorry for how I t-treated you. I shouldn’t have let m-my feelings define you, a-and I hate that I despised you for n-no reason.” Cedric begins to cry in fear he could’ve died without finally getting his apology off his chest. He wraps you tightly in his arms and his breathing grows rapid. “P-Please forgive me.” He manages in between breaths and your emotionless barrier falls. “Deep breaths Diggory, you’re going to pass out if you keep this up.” You caress the boy’s back in a soothing manner, but Cedric’s murmuring only rapidly increases, and you were beginning to feel a headache. “Hey, it's alright! I forgive you.”

His muttering continues.

“Ced, please you’re bleeding, let’s go get help.”

No use.

As a final resort you gently lift Cedric’s face from the crook of your neck; tears are streaming down his face and apologies continue to flood your ears.

“Save your breath Diggory.” You smirk, pressing your lips to Cedric’s scabbed pink ones.

Your lips are still as Cedric registers your movement, his eyes widen, but slowly close as your smooth lips pull him into a daze. The slight taste of blood is forgotten as Cedric stands and cups his hands around your face, tilting his face to deepen the kiss and slip his tongue into your mouth. As he familiarizes himself with your taste a low groan emits from the back of the champion’s throat and he pulls away to look at you.

In nature, badgers and snakes are natural born enemies, but when Cedric looked into your eyes, the badger lost its temper and the snake became calm. In the Hogwarts walls the snake and the badger felt something new bubble inside them, and the statement ‘opposites attract’ finally began to make sense. Two people, so different, yet so drawn to each other. Finally giving in to their feelings, with primal instincts still flooding their senses.

“You shouldn’t have done that, once I start, I might not be able to stop.” Cedric’s voice grows low in arousal and he leans his face closer to yours.

“Then don’t stop Diggory, take me.”

Cedric immediately takes your hand in a firm grip and walks you down the bleachers, promising his father to go to the hospital wing, but entering the quidditch pitch’s change room instead.“I-I need you y/n. Fuck, you’ve made me want you for so damn long.” He moans desperately, pushing you against the stone wall and placing his hands wherever he could. You trail your fingers down the hufflepuff’s torso and nibble on his lower lip. Cedric’s hips jolt and you’re met with a sudden pressure on your lower abdomen.

“Someone’s excited.” You smirk, reaching your hand down the brunette’s trousers to take his length into your hand.

Your eyebrows raise at the champion’s size, but you don’t let it shine through as your tease your hand against him, brushing past his tip before using his precum as lubricant to move against him.

When Cedric’s face contorted into a look of pure pleasure and lust, you were sure that this was the reaction you’d wanted from Cedric from the start. Lip in between his teeth and eyes shut tight as he bites back moans and lightly tugs on your hair.

You move your hand faster, smirking in pride as loud whimpers begin to exit beautifully from Cedric’s lips and he begins rocking himself against your palm.

“You like it when I use my hand Diggory?” You tease, applying even more pressure to his aching cock as he began to twitch in your grasp.

“Oh fuck yes y/n, just like that.” The hufflepuff’s rough hands move down from your hair to grasp your face and connect your lips again, drowning out the sound of pure ecstasy leaving his mouth with each thrust of your hand.

“You better be quiet Diggory, or people will know how much of a naughty boy you are.” You whisper in a low voice.

“I’d watch your mouth if I was you.”

Cedric removes your hand from his pants and pushes you on to a wide bench, holding you down so you can’t move.

“Now it’s my turn to make you writhe.” He growls with a devilish grin, pressing open mouth kisses against your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin as he works off your skirt.

Your head falls to the side as Cedric finds your weak spot, a mewl signaling him to go harder. His hands pull down the zipper on your back and he carefully pulls it down as your intoxicating whimpers egg him further on.

“Well princess, I guess you got what you wanted.” Cedric smirks, dropping to his knees in front of you and throwing your skirt to the side.

“You’re driving me absolutely insane.”

Euphoria flows through every single nerve in your body when Cedric presses his rough fingers against your clit, the only thing separating you and pure bliss being a thin piece of fabric. Cedric uses the cloth of your panties as extra friction, slowly circling his fingers around as your back arches and your breath grows irregular. Leaning forwards, he takes the lace of your undergarment between his teeth and pulls it down your thighs, swiftly prying your legs apart as soon as your panties drop to your feet and pass your ankles. “Now be a good girl and keep these open, alright?” Cedric mutters, in a dark voice as he descends.

The hufflepuff tests the waters by licking a stripe up your core, hiding a cheeky grin at the sound of your choked moan and continuing to lap at your slick folds.

Your vision fills with dots and your mind is deprived of any thought, your only feeling was Cedric’s strong tongue flicking around and dipping in and out of your slit.

“So wet for me love?” He groans deeply, the taste of your heat, causing his arousal to grow exponentially. Your only response is the incoherent moans and curses stringing past your lips as your back arches and your body pulses in bliss.

As your hips start to buck and your legs close against his face, Cedric uses one hand to press your abdomen down and using his arm and other hand he pushes your legs apart again, your moans fueling his strength. When the brunette adds his fingers into the array, your hands move from your clothed breasts to Cedric’s soft brown hair. A sudden rush of pleasure has your grip tightening in the champions curls, and a loud curse echoes through the empty room.

“You like it when I pull your hair like that Diggory?” You tease through the pulsing in your body. “Fuck, do that again y/n.” His deep growl responds as his fingers quicken and hit deeper inside your tight walls.

With each tight grip in Cedric’s curls, a loud moan was heard in response as he thrusts his fingers deeper and sucks harder, letting his moans vibrate through to your clit to fill your lower stomach with butterflies.

“I-I’m gonna cum!” You whimper loudly.

“You can cum if you beg.” The hufflepuff purrs with one last roll of his tongue, pausing his fingers, still deep inside of you. Every ounce of your dignity is shredded as the pleasure of Cedric’s mouth and fingers stop.

“Please Diggory, let me cum.” You mewl in desperation, but he doesn’t move.

“Try again love.” He smirks in amusement.

“Please Cedric, you make me feel so good! I’m so fucking close, I need to cum.” You moan in frustration, grinding your hips frantically for any friction. Cedric chuckles darkly, pulling his fingers out almost fully before slamming right back into you.

“Merlin, you say my name so perfectly darling.” The brunette grins, pulling his finger out and slamming back again.

“Say it again.” Cedric commands, attaching his lips to your clit, his fingers now ramming in and out of you.

“Cedric! Oh fuck!” your choked voice almost comes out as a sob, and your incoherent moans mix deliciously with your lover’s name.

With the combined stimulation of Cedric’s rough fingers and strong tongue, a coil snaps as your body seems to lose control. Writhing, pulsing, and gripping Cedric’s hair as you pant for breath.

Cedric pauses the assault with his tongue, but continues using his fingers to help ride out your high.

When the shockwaves finally stop and you’re able to open your eyes again, Cedric is leaning directly above you, a grin plastered on his face. “You’re so beautiful when you cum.” The hufflepuff begins kissing down your neck as his hands move down his torso and pulls his shirt up his chest. Cedric pauses to wince as cuts reopen and the fabric irritates his bruises, but when you sit up to help him, he pushes you down again. “I’m fine, It’s just a couple scratches.” He smirks looking back down at you, but you’ve regained your senses and have pushed the toned champion back onto the bench and climbed onto his lap.

“Are you sure? You looked pretty banged up.” your voice comes out as a soft whisper as you begin to press butterfly kisses to his bruises.

“Yes, f-fuck y/n.” He groans as you suddenly bite down on his shoulder, sucking on it for a couple seconds until you’re sure a hickey will form.

“Good, because it’s my turn now.”

You lift your hips from his lap to tug his shorts down and he lifts his bottom up to help you. As soon as they’re off you begin to unbutton your blouse, shrugging it off before leaning forwards and running a finger down Cedric’s abdomen. “Help me?” You smirk, standing and brushing your hair aside to reveal your bra strap. Cedric obliges with shaky fingers as his cock grows harder and begins twitching. Once it comes loose, you turn and connect lips with Cedric’s again, moving your hand to the back of the brunette’s head to run your hands through his hair and cup his jaw. Cedric takes your hips into his hands and slowly brings you towards him again. You shuffle onto Cedric’s lap again, hovering just above his cock as he rubs the sides of your body.

Without warning you sink onto him, relaxing your walls to take all of Cedric’s length. His grip on your waist tightens as you wrap around him. Strings of curses leave his mouth as his head falls onto your shoulder and he nips at the sensitive skin. When you’re halfway down, he moves his hands from your hips to your breasts, massaging them roughly and peppering kisses all over. With the Help of Cedric’s wandering hands and caring mouth, you bottom out and adjust to the feeling of being full. Your hands dig into Cedric’s shoulder blades and you begin moving up and down. It’s slow at first, you aren’t quite sure how to do it, but the hufflepuff uses his hands on your hips to guide you and soon you’re bouncing up and down, the grip on your side and the waves of euphoria from Cedric’s cock pushing you further than you could have ever thought possible.

“You feel so good darling.” Cedric sighs, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open as your walls wrap tighter against him with each bounce. You don’t respond, your thoughts occupied with keeping the euphoric feeling coming. Using Cedric’s broad shoulders you begin to pick up the pace, sucking dark marks into existence on his chest, panting breathy moans into his ear and tightening your grip around his shaft to earn you that desperate moan that made you dizzy.

With the overstimulation from your voice and love bites Cedric could feel his release coming, but he wasn’t ready to end this just yet, with the last couple bounces he summoned as much strength as he could to lift you from his lap and release onto your abdomen. It took everything in him not to drop you or collapse right there, but he managed, setting you back down on the wide bench to push you back and tilt your chin up to meet eye to eye.

“Don’t t-think I’m done with you yet princess.” He growls.

The lustful look in your eyes as your pupils dilated and your mouth hung open had him hard all over again and before you could reply with something witty, he pounded right back into you.

Your head is thrown back at the new angle Cedric is fucking you in, your back arches so he can move deeper and your legs swing up to wrap around his torso, bringing him impossibly close to you. Cedric responds with vigorous thrusts, desperate for you to submit to him and end this with him on top. While he desperately rolls his hips into yours, you pull his head down and reconnect your lips, using your tongue to explore his mouth as you swallow the breathy moans of the grey eyed hufflepuff. Your teeth clash, lips mold and tongues dance as Cedric fucks you senseless.

“Oh fuck Cedric right there!” You cry, rolling your hips up to meet the champion’s needy thrusts and allowing your moans to fill the empty air. Skin hitting skin is the only sound other than your moans and cries mixing together, intimately connecting and reconnecting over and over as wave after wave of pleasure and euphoria floods your veins and every corner of your body. Your eyes roll back and your toes curl with each movement of Cedric’s hips and with his arms pinned above your head and his low groans right in front of your face you could not contain the knot that was forming in your abdomen. Your nails rake down Cedric’s back and bury themselves into his hair as you grin victoriously at the loud profanities spilling through his gritted teeth. With each pump of his length the knot grows tighter and tighter, Pleasure is swapped with pure bliss and Cedric can feel it too as his thrusts grow sloppy and your core tightens against him. He lets himself go, and you follow right behind him. The proof of your pleasures stream between the two of you, down your legs and in between where you are still connected.

Cedric helps you ride out your high as you run your shaky finger up and down his chest, a smile growing on your face as Cedric finally opens his eyes and looks back down at your tired form, panting and grinning back down at you.

“I win.” He smirks, lazily pulling out of you and resting himself on his elbows.

“In your dreams Diggory.” You roll your eyes and move some hair out of the boy’s face.

“Oh are we back on the last name basis?” Cedric chuckles, cupping your cheek and using his thumb to circle your cheek.

“Only if you want Ced.” You sigh, tilting your head closer to Cedric’s warm palm.

“Well in that case, you better get used to calling me Cedric, y/n.” The hufflepuff beams, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap.

Your eyes widen and you begin to laugh joyously as you connect your lips to Cedric’s again, mumbling sweet nothings in between each peck. You stay like that for a second, in each other’s arms, relishing the feeling of finally being complete and content, but as you press your hand to Cedric’s chest he winces and you know the moment has to end.

“Alright lover boy, it’s time to get you to the hospital wing.” You sigh, pecking Cedric’s lips once more before grabbing your wand and quickly cleaning off the mess in between you and Cedric’s legs. “Do I have too?” Cedric groans, pulling you back to him, as you clasp your bra on. “I’m sure I’ll be fine just sitting here in your arms.” He states staring lovingly into your eyes. “Sorry Ced, but even I don’t know a lot of healing spells and by the look of it you’re gonna need them.” You giggle, standing on shaky legs as you pick up your blouse and skirts again.

“Get changed Ced, I’ll meet you outside.” You smirk, slowly making your way out of the room with a slight swing in your hips.

Taking a deep breath of the night air, you take a moment to really take in what just happened. You thought you hated that boy, but maybe that was just for show. Maybe you’d always had feelings for the boy with the yellow scarf and you had been too naive to realize it. It felt strange how the part of your brain that convinced you to fight was now telling you this was right, but you were fine with it, your whole perspective had changed of this boy from the moment he came limping to you in the stadium.

Cedric had similar thoughts as he tugged on his shirt and pants. He finally realized the feeling he got when you looked at him wasn’t annoyance, it was a crush. A fancy that he wanted so badly to deny, but embrace at the same time, and now he could.

As he finally walked out to you and wrapped you in his arms, you knew it was right and you were where you are meant to be. As you interlocked hands with the grey eyed hufflepuff, making your way towards the castle and your new life. Something was made crystal clear.

Badgers and snakes are natural born enemies, made to fight and hate each other. But you and Cedric aren’t the animals you are associated with,

you’re humans and you had the choice to decide how you would treat your opposite.

And although the two of you were clear descriptions of the houses you were assigned, your personalities molded perfectly.

As Cedric lay in the hospital bed, Madam Pomfrey healing his wounds, you stuck by his side and held his hand, knowing the snake would never define you. The badger would never define Cedric. You were your own people, and you were in love.

[dameronology]

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

--

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

--

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned. 

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’ 

[let-them-read-fics]

Ghostin'

Requested By @heyziggy: "Song prompt -- 'Ghostin' by Ariana Grande. Reader is dating Rosé and misses her lost lover."

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,676

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Death, Crying, Some Cursing, Some Fluff, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Did I write this between the hours of 1 and 8am? Yes, yes I did. Inspiration struck and I was able to crank this one out pretty quickly for you! I'm happy with it, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know what you think :)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

There they are again. Those eyes that have haunted you for the past year, turning what little progress you've made to dust within a second. People say time heals all wounds, and yet that's never felt further from the truth than it does right now.

A rough tremble wracks through your body as you toss and turn, your limbs reaching out for someone that'll never be there again. She's calling out to you, her arms outstretched as she waits in vain. Your feet are rooted in their spot and no amount of effort possible can make them budge. Tears roll endlessly down your cheeks, a steady stream that feels all too real in the moment. As you scream out her name, you faintly hear your own being called; it's distant, but accompanied by a strong grip on your shoulders. 

"...Y/N." 

Upon jolting awake, your eyes open to find Rosé hovering over you, propping herself up on her elbow. A thin sheet of sweat has formed on your skin, and you attempt to ground yourself by looking up at her. Slowly but surely, her features overtake the ones still burning in your mind from the dream and you're able to breathe again. She brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing her cool fingers against it lovingly. 

Despite the darkness, you can see the bags underneath her beautiful eyes. "I'm sorry, baby." 

She simply shakes her head in response, whispering, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here to take care of you." 

In one motion, you pull her into your arms and bury your face in her neck. This isn't the first time this has happened, and you curse yourself for forcing her to grow accustomed to it. She tries to disguise how much it affects her too, but her efforts are always futile; you can read her like a book, knowing that every time that name falls from your lips in a hushed shout, her heart breaks a little more. She doesn't blame you for a second, but neither of you can deny the strain it puts on your relationship. 

She adjusts the two of you so that you're laying against her as she soothingly rubs your back. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered into your ear, and the tears you've been holding back soon begin to fall. Some drop from her eyes as well, but she takes comfort in the fact that you're in her arms, allowing her to hold you. Most of the time you push her away, leaving yourself to suffer alone in some cruel form of self-punishment. But now, if only for tonight, you let yourself sink into her warm embrace.

----

1 Week Later -- The Anniversary

12 months ago, today. That's when your world shattered for the first time and everything fell apart. Your heart had been free of such pain until that fateful day, innocent and unaware that sadness like that even existed. That was the first time you ever truly questioned a higher power, baffled that any 'benevolent ruler' could steal such a bright light away from the world. Your first love -- the girl you once imagined spending forever with -- was killed in a hit and run, left to die alone on the pavement. 

A majority of your youth belonged to her: the two of you grew up together, slowly falling until you had enough courage to make her yours. Countless memories were made, back when you had no idea how much they'd mean to you in the future. Life was fun with her: she made the mundane things interesting, and the adventures unforgettable. She was unashamedly herself, never stopping for a moment to give a damn about what anybody else thought of her. The two of you had each other, and that's all that really mattered. She was everything to you.

She was. 

You still find her in the little things. Whether it be a commercial for her favorite cereal, a bottle of her signature perfume catching your eye as you shop, or even just a flash of her favorite color, you swear that she's still around. After spending so many years with her, it's nearly impossible to imagine her gone. She was so full of life and enthusiasm when her presence still graced the Earth that the thought of her being faded, that twinkle in her eye forever extinguished, seems like an insult to her legacy. 

How are you supposed to move on from something like that? Rosé has been one of the only things keeping your head above water ever since she walked into your life, but a limit exists to what even she is capable of. After getting absolutely no closure, not even being able to see the perpetrator brought to justice, you're left to pick up the pieces. You've always been the type to deal with things on your own, finding it selfish to bring your loved ones down with the weight of your pain, but even you have to draw the line somewhere. 

Perhaps that dream had been a sign -- some type of cosmic warning for what was soon to come -- because that line was crossed today. 

Her family requested for you to return to your home town and celebrate her life with them. The invitation was extended to everyone she had touched before her life was taken, and even those who wished to show their support despite not having the privilege of knowing her personally. You agreed, and spent the day surrounded by people just as sad as you.

It was strange, at first; being back in the place you had so desperately tried to run from to escape the reality of what happened. But seeing all of them again reopened wounds that had never really gotten the chance to heal in the first place. Her parents' faces, so tired and troubled beneath the mask they attempted to put on, struck a chord within you. Her brother tried to be strong for them, you could tell -- but upon hearing his stifled sobs coming from upstairs, you could see how much it all still affected him. Your old friends were there as well, and their stories of your shared escapades only broke your heart more. It was a physical pain now, the once dull pinch giving way to a full blown ache. As you walked around her house, replaying all of your experiences with her, you felt empty again. 

She meant so much to everyone she ever uttered a word to, and yet she was gone in the blink of an eye. You'd think that someone as incredible as her would get some sort of divine protection, if you will -- a blanket of defense against such a cruel fate. But life works in ways we don't understand, and we have to find a way to deal with that. You'd hoped returning here would help you on that quest, but you've come to learn that no one really has access to that elusive answer. 

Though the day brought on the reunion of so many of you, it ended just as it had started: none of you any closer to closure. It would take time, no doubt, but you wished more than anything that the road to peace was a little shorter. 

-----

Rosé

Sweet, incredible Rosé. She waltzed into your life two months after the incident. A breath of fresh air in every way, she brought light back into your life. She refused to stand by and watch as you slowly destroyed yourself, letting the walls crash down around you. She made everything secure again, successfully keeping you sane and grounded. 

Falling in love with her was never something you saw coming. The emotions took their time in building up, every considerate thing she did for you adding to your list of reasons for loving her. It all accumulated until you couldn't hide it anymore, and even she could tell that she was getting through to you. Your fragile heart seemed to forget about its brokenness, because it soared at the mere sight of her. 

The day she asked you to be her girlfriend was an emotional one, to say the least. You accepted without hesitation, but a nagging voice in the back of your mind suggested that being with Rosie was a treasonous act. Trying to move on felt wrong; your confused heart sent mixed signals, thinking it possible to wait for your ex's return. 

But Rosie dealt with it perfectly -- better than you could have ever wished for. Not one time did she try to take your ex's place; she always respected your process and boundaries, and she never drew comparisons between your relationships. Rosé knew from the get-go that times would get rough, but she never shied away. Arguments happened, as they do with any couple, but she watched her tone and always took time to think before she spoke. 

Constantly, she worked to get you to let her in. Sometimes -- rarely -- she succeeded. On the nights that you found yourself crying over her again, your heart aching like usual, Rosie was always next to you in an instant. She hated seeing you so distant and hard on yourself, and she vowed from the beginning that she would be a positive influence in your life. 

------

The Birthday

2 weeks ago, Rosé had requested today off in order to be by your side. Your ex's birthday is today, and Rosé knows you'll need her more than you're willing to admit. 

"Baby, wake up. Let's get some breakfast." 

She rolls over to wake you with a kiss, only to find you already sitting up with tears in your eyes. She reaches up to wipe them away, but you dodge her hand before she can. That's what she can't stand. Having you push her away, effectively keeping her at arm's length, hurts her so much more than you know.

Although she's talented at reading you, truth be told Rosé has absolutely no idea how today will go. You've yet to experience a day like today -- your ex's birthday -- without her here, and even you don't know what'll happen. Your mood is capable of changing in a whipstitch, so you'll have to see how the day plays out.

"Y/N, please." Her eyes are pleading as you look at her again, and they rake over your sad features. Your bottom lip trembles as more tears threaten to overflow, and you sink your teeth into it to quiet yourself. Wordlessly, you do as she asks: you press your forehead against hers and let out a broken sigh as she strokes your arm. Her touch is comforting beyond belief, and you can't help but feel like you don't deserve it. Constantly putting her through the same shit makes you feel like a terrible person. 

"You're too good to me." 

She goes to shush you like always, but you don't drop it this time. 

You gently scoot away from her, meeting her eyes as she mimics your actions and raises her head. 

"I can see that it gets to you, Rose. I hate myself for hurting you… I just keep letting you down."

She's prepared to ease your fears from the start, not willing to get into an argument right now. "Stop, okay? I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. I'm a big girl, Y/N. I can decide when I want to stay and when I want to go. I knew from the beginning that we would have these struggles, and none of it has made me change my mind about you."

Her words make your heart flutter, but you still have plenty on your mind to discuss with her.

"You deserve someone without so much baggage. I can't pretend like I'm not still affected by it."

"When have I ever asked you to do that?" She cocks her head to the side, quirking an eyebrow as she waits for you to respond. 

"You don't have to, babe. Seeing what it does to you is confirmation enough." You shrug lightly, allowing your eyes to break away from hers for a moment as you gather up what other words you want to say.

"You'll never admit it, not to the full extent, anyway, but I know I'm hurting you. That's the last thing I want; you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy." 

"Jagi, do you really think our relationship makes me unhappy? I'll admit that this isn't always easy, but no relationship is, and never once have I even thought of leaving. You seem to forget about yourself in all of this; your happiness is just as important as mine."

She chooses to ignore the self-deprecating scoff you let out at her last sentence, opting to just continue with her train of thought; convincing you to value yourself is a battle for another day.

"So please, let me in. I want us to get through this." 

"I do too, baby. So so much. I just can't help but think you could find someone better. I'm a fucking charity case at this point." You drop your head now, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You know she'll be upset with you for thinking so lowly of yourself, but her disappointment almost certainly pales in comparison to the contempt you hold for yourself.

With a heavy, tired sigh, Rosé hooks two fingers underneath your chin and gently lifts your head. "Y/N, look at me. I don't know how to make it any clearer to you: you are the person I want to be with. I want you in my future, and in order to make that happen I'm more than willing to help you deal with your past. I know it's not simple; I know it's never going to be easy; but I want you. All the strings attached."

You blink at the sincerity behind her words, a bit taken aback that she's so steadfast in her decision to stay with you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she's only with you because she feels sorry for you that you were blind to the true extent of her love. It's consistent and unwavering, and you've never felt more valued than when you're with her. To her, you never were nor will you ever be a charity case; she loves you because you're imperfect; because you need her just as much as she needs you. 

"Okay." 

The simple word from you is more than enough to put Rosie at ease, and she doesn't even try to stop the smile that spreads across her cheeks as you pull her into your lap for a hug.

A light squeak from the bedsprings serves as the only sound in your room as you silently hold one another. She knows that 'okay' was your way of telling her you're ready to let her in. 

"I love you." You whisper against her neck, allowing your lips to brush against her soft skin. Both of your collars are wet with tears following the emotional moment you just had, but neither of you care. 

"I love you, too, baby." She returns, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

After spending a moment just holding one another, communicating your emotions through light touches and kisses, you lift up onto your knees and lay her back onto the bed. She cups your cheeks, loving how they feel beneath her fingertips as you stare into her eyes. Your hands sit on either side of her torso to hold you up, keeping you in place as you smile down at her. Intimate moments like these hold a special place in her heart, and she can never get enough of them.

"I'm so afraid of losing you, Rosie. God, you have no idea how much the thought of it terrifies me." You shut your eyes now, willing away the images of a life without her.

For some reason she had never really considered that to be a cause for your unreachability before. Looking back now, it makes perfect sense; losing someone so close to you in such an unexpected way can definitely make you afraid of getting close to people again. What if you lose them, too?

"I can't predict the future, my love, but I can promise you that I'll spend the rest of my days on this Earth next to you. And I'll find you in whatever comes after, too; you're not getting away from me that easy." 

The last sentence is playful, and you smirk at her lightheartedness. She knows just what to say to lighten the mood.

"You're the greatest." You say, leaning down to capture her full lips in a meaningful kiss. She hums into it, pulling you flush against her body as she flips you over. 

"Oh really?" She teases, pressing feather-light kisses to your jaw. She can feel your heartbeat pick up, and she grins cockily at the effect she has on you.

"M-mhm." You mutter out with a slight stutter, tracing your hands down her body before letting them rest on her hips. 

"Why don't you show me, then?" She's straddling you now, and she pulls away from your neck to gaze down into your darkening eyes. 

Soon the room is filled with a high pitched squeal as you pounce, pushing her backwards until her back hits the mattress again. 

"As you wish, princess." You say, giving her a little salute before kissing her again. 

She smiles against your lips and lets out a joyous giggle at your antics. 

-------

The Second Anniversary 

"Are you ready, baby?" She asks, turning to look at you and gauge your reaction. 

You let out a jagged breath, the air leaving your lungs a bit unevenly as you try to steady yourself.

With a nod, you exit the car and walk around to open Rosie's door. "Such a gentlewoman." She says, garnering a genuine smile from you. Her playful tone calms you, and you peck her lips in a sweet kiss. 

"Come on, let's go inside." 

At your words, she slips her hand into yours and the two of you begin your journey towards the house. 

The rest of the day goes by better than you had ever imagined possible: Rosé joined conversations easily, and she offered plenty of comfort to everyone in need of it. Her presence is enough to lessen anyone's pain, but she truly showed her skills today. 

Towards the end of the celebration, your ex's parents pulled you away from everyone else and into the hallway for a private word.

"We want you to come visit her, with us." 

Your first instinct is to adamantly refuse, but the looks on their faces are enough to give you pause. No amount of time can make up for the loss they've had to endure, and you know they wouldn't have asked unless they really needed you there. 

"Okay, we'll be there." 

They pull you in for a hug, and Rosé tears up at the emotional moment. She sends you an understanding look once you eventually meet her gaze from across the room, and you give her a sad smile in return. 

----

The Visit

"Hey, baby; it's us again. Everybody came by earlier and it was so nice."

"You would've loved it, baby girl. We all miss you so much." 

They hold each other close as they take turns speaking to her, their voices a little stronger than you remember them being last year. Slowly but surely, they're learning to adjust to life without their daughter. 

You turn your head to the side, burying your face in Rosé's hair to distract yourself from the sadness creeping in. You hadn't come back to the cemetery since her funeral, so even just standing there causes the memories to come flooding back. Rosie's grip on you is strong, and you thank her for that; without her you'd surely be a wreck by now. 

A few minutes later, her parents step to the side and look over to you in a wordless request for you to say something. 

"Hey, champ." You crouch down next to her tombstone, missing the way her parents smile at the old nickname you used to call each other. 

"It's me. I hope you're happy up there… you deserve to be. You'd better save us some good seats." You tease, reaching up to dust some dirt off of the sleek surface of stone. The material is beginning to become rougher, you note to yourself.

"Thank you for taking such good care of Y/N. I owe you the world." Rosie smiles bittersweetly, resting her hand on your shoulder as she looks down at the picture on the tombstone. 

Something -- some unmistakable force, a gut feeling -- tells you to look up. You listen to it, slowly raising your head until you can see the expanse of the cemetery in front of you. The evening sun is giving way to a breathtaking sunset, and the remaining golden rays filter in through the leaves of the tall trees overhead. A flash of brown hair catches your eye, and you almost gasp at what you see.

There she is.

Your ex -- well, more specifically, the ghost of her -- stands amidst the tree line that borders the property. She raises a hand up to wave at you, offering a peaceful smile as she glances between Rosie and you. You smile your own lopsided grin at her, and soon after, she fades away completely. 

Inconspicuously, you look up at her parents. They have a knowing look on their face as you stand up and loop an arm around Rosé's waist, pulling her in close to rest your forehead against hers. She kisses your cheek before using her finger to poke the soft surface adorably.

"Ya know," her father starts, pulling your attention away from your girlfriend. 

"She visits us too, sometimes." He finishes with a smile.

A content feeling settles within your chest at his words, and you let out a soft sigh. 

She always was a sucker for happy endings.

[the-queen-of-fools]

Good Vibes Only

Word count: 1445 Pairing: Dave York x gn!reader (no y/n, no descriptions of reader, no pronouns) Rating: 18+ Warnings: smut, D/s, sub!Dave, swearing, ass play, butt plug use, vibrator use, remote control toy, edging, orgasm delay, handjob, public play, explicit descriptions, AU (no Carol or kids), soft!Dave.

A/N: sub!Dave York lives in my brain, and heart, rent free. All BDSM activities should be safe, sane, and consensual between 2 (or more) adults. I have written this as if it were a real situation, within a long term relationship where non verbal cues are known and are recognised. Please note: A Dominant has a responsibility to look after a submissive, including paying attention to signs that something in play is too much, even when a sub does not use their safe words. I also wrote and rewrote the debrief section multiple times, and in reality it would be more in depth. I feel it’s a little bit clunky, but it’s important to be there, which is why it’s left in even with me not being perfectly happy with it. Don’t take this fic as a guide or gospel. However, if someone ignores your limits and/or use of a safe word, that is always abuse.

And, of course, don’t steal my work, repost it, or claim it as your own.

— — —

@silverwolf319, @caesaryoulater, @anxiousandboujee, @wyn-dixie, @aliengxrl, @rav3n-pascal22, @green-socks, @dragcn-queen, @buttercup–bee, @chasingdreamer, @amneris21, @sugarontherims, @kesskirata, @ravensmutty, @dindjarinneedsahug, @allmahfeels, @phoenix-of-loki, @cookiecat22, @rrtxcmt, @mouthymandalorian, @danniburgh, @alleycat5135, @callsigncatfish, @djarinsbeskar, @asta-lily, @the-ginger-hedge-witch, @agentalpha, @disgruntledspacedad

— — —

Dave squirms in his seat. He frowns, and clenches his fist, the tension turning his knuckles pale. You turn the toy down, and watch him relax again...

...

“You like it Dave? I got it just for you.” He stares at it. It looks like a plug, albeit a slightly different shape than the ones you already have, but it has an extra curved part to it that leaves him wondering. “I... it’s a plug, but. What is this part?” He asks, pointing.  “Oh. So, you’re right, this goes inside you, and this,” you run a finger over the part he pointed at, “this sits against the taint. The very base of your balls.” He nods, humming to himself in understanding. “But if you don’t like it, we don’t have to use it-” “No. No, I do.” He blushes. You lift yourself up onto your toes, lean close to his ear and whisper. “It vibrates.” You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You continue, “I can control it from my phone. I don’t even have to touch you to make you cum.” His eyes widen before squeezing shut, the blush dusting his cheeks deepening in colour, and letting out a small whimper.  

You move yourself back down, feet flattening onto the floor again. One of your hands raise to jaw, your thumb stroking his cheekbone. “I was wondering, and you can say no, if you might want to have some fun with it out...” His eyes open suddenly, brows pulling together, creasing in the middle. “Out, like out in public?” You nod in reply, trying to decide if it’s a little too far. You love each other, trust each other absolutely, but Dave is usually the one that asks to take things further. You worry if you ask too much of him, it’ll push him away. It wasn’t a limit for either of you. Public play had been a curiosity of his from the start of your relationship, even before he told you his submissive desires. You’d tease each other in public, he once made you cum on his fingers in a cafe. But this? Was it too much? You were so in your thoughts you almost missed him say “okay. Where? When?” Shit. You hadn’t figured that out yet, you’d only thought of it within the house. Dave wearing nothing but this in bed. Dave wearing it under clothes watching a movie on the sofa. “I haven’t thought about that. Maybe we can talk about it together?”

...

You’re sat in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Dave. You haven’t turned the vibration on yet, letting him get used to the fullness first. His hand is on your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb. You’re looking at the menu, deciding on what you’re each going to have when you place your chin on his shoulder. “You ready, baby?” You ask him, placing your phone on the table. “Remember what we talked about?” He nods, and squeezes your knee once  to signal he’s ready. You smile, raise a brow, and kiss his cheek. A quick wink, and you reach for your phone, turning it on to the lowest level. He sucks a breath in, and your smile spreads further across your face. “I love you, honey,” you tell him as you look back at the menu.

You had talked it all through, once he’d expressed his interest in wearing it in public. Discussed where was or wasn’t suitable, how many people he’d be okay with being around, who exactly were no-gos. You already knew you would never embarrass or humiliate him, and you wouldn’t do anything that may affect his work in any way. The two of you had agreed that you’d use your judgement for levels once you knew how loud it was, or how affected Dave would be. That if he got hard, you’d stop and allow him to soften again before restarting, and as always, safe words could be used by either of you, if needed. You’d shown him the plug’s different vibration levels (5 in total) and the ease which you could move from high to low, or stop it completely if necessary.

While looking through the menu, you turn up the level a step. He blinks, moving a little before relaxing again. It can’t be heard over the chattering of everyone. Once you see that your waiter is about to come over, you stop it. The waiter comes, takes your orders, and as he goes, you return the vibration straight back to level 2. Dave bites his lip to prevent a moan, and you kiss his cheek again, whispering words of praise and encouragement to him. You lower it as your drinks arrive, checking in on how he’s feeling before increasing it back up again. He moans softly, and you rub up and down his thigh. “You sound like you’re having fun, Dave. Such a good boy, making such sweet sounds.” He nods his head softly, whimpering, and gives you a small smile. 

The level is reduced again when the food arrives. Once it’s just you and Dave again, you increase it again for a while you eat and chat. Next, you start to alternate back and forth between 2 and 3, before settling at the latter. Dave sighs, but continues eating, though a little slower.  You move the plug’s level up to 4. Dave squirms in his seat. He frowns, and clenches his fist, the tension turning his knuckles pale. You turn the toy back down to level 2, and watch him relax again in his seat. “David, is this still fun?” He nods, but you’re not sure, “do you want me to stop until after dinner?” He doesn’t nod, but doesn’t shake his head either. “David, baby.” He looks up, and meets your gaze. “I’m going to turn it back to the lowest level and keep it there until we leave.”  He frowns again, but nods without protest. “Thank you, honey,” he whispers, lifting your hand to his mouth and kissing it softly. 

...

The vibration stays at the lowest level while you both eat dinner, and continue the date. Once the bill is paid, and walk through the restaurant doors, you put the level up. Dave grabs your hand and squeezes, pulling you back close to him. You smile, walk to the car, opening the passenger door for him, and then get into the drivers seat yourself. The second you pull the door to, he leans across to you, holding your face firmly as he kisses you.  “David. Sit back.” You say when you part, and he does so immediately. “Poor baby.” You unbuckle his belt, undo the button and unzip his trousers, “was it too difficult?” You reach your hand into his underwear, pull his hardened cock out, and grip it. You arch a brow, and whisper with a smile, “was I too mean?” You lick a stripe up his neck, and he bucks his hips upwards as his eyes squeeze shut and he groans deeply. “Oh, baby. You did so well, David. You deserve a reward.” You turn the level up again, and stroke his cock slowly.  Eyes still closed, Dave whimpers, breathing out your name like a prayer. “Please, honey. Shit, shit.” Speeding your strokes and raising the vibration level one final time makes Dave cry out “please, fuck, please?” The moment he is given permission, he cums over your hand, panting hard, clenching his fists tightly. You turn the plug off, still stroking his cock until his high is over, and his breath begins to even out and slow. He pants out, “thank you, honey, fuck.” He takes your cum-covered hand and cleans it with his pocket square before resting his forehead on yours, “thank you.”

Once the two of you got home, Dave pulls you to him, wraps his arms around you, holding your back to his chest, and walks you upstairs to bed. You get ready for bed and spend the night content in each other’s arms.

…

You talked it through with Dave the next morning. He assured you he had been having fun, it wasn’t too much. But concentrating on not moaning loudly had taken up more of his thought processes than he had imagined, and so trying to answer questions became difficult at the higher levels. He really loved it in the car though, when he didn’t have to hold back, and explained how eager he was to fuck you wearing it, or be tied up and edged over and over with it. Just not in public again until after a bit more training…

[spookyboywhump]

SO I didn’t sleep on it uwu because I cannot sleep uwu new OC new content lads my apologies

CW: Human trafficking (I think), dehumanization

***

The young prince stood in place among the other shackled young men, lined up to be evaluated, to have their chance at being sold to a powerful man, a king no less. The boy to the right of him could’ve been no older than eighteen, he stood there trembling with fear, a soft whimper escaping his throat. The man to the left of him seemed to be close to his age, he stood still and silent, a blank look in his eyes, his shoulders sagged. He was scared for them, he was scared for each and every one of them that would be subjected to this- every one of them except himself.

He stood up straight, kept his shoulders squared back and his eyes narrowed. He was one of the lucky few who had to be gagged for this event, a leather muzzle keeping his snarky comments locked inside and keeping him from biting anybody who got close enough. Despite the fact he was dressed in rags, shackled at the wrists and ankles, and muzzled like an animal, he still intended to carry himself as the prince he was, refusing to show a shred of submission to these people in hopes he’d keep himself sane long enough to escape.

They had been instructed beforehand on how to behave when the king entered the room, to keep quiet, keep their head down and their eyes on the floor unless spoken to, and he chose to ignore the second rule. He stared straight ahead, not sparing a glance at the king as he spoke to the sellers, it sounded as though he was a frequent customer of theirs. It disgusted him more than anything, and he was sure that showed on his face. He sure hoped it did anyway.

He was towards the middle of the line, waiting patiently as the king took his time looking over the other men, occasionally making comments out loud about features he liked or outright saying that one simply “wouldn’t do”. It was only a matter of time before the king reached him, and they locked eyes right away, it was all he could do to show him he wasn’t scared of him. The man was older than him, not by much but definitely older, and there seemed to be a hint of amusement in his cold blue eyes. It only lasted a moment however, in one quick motion the king suddenly backhanded him, his head snapping to the side and the sound of the slap seeming to be the loudest thing in the room.

“Mind your manners, pet, and keep your head down.” He warned him, before simply moving on to the next man, leaving the prince to stand there seething in anger, his hands clenched into fists. He considered himself lucky that he didn’t show much interest in him, but he was still so angry over being treated this way, over the blatant disrespect he’d been given a lot lately. Were it not for the muzzle he would’ve sworn at him, it was probably best for his own safety that he’d been silenced. For now, he obeyed the ridiculous rule, keeping his head down and letting his long dark hair fall to hide his face, to hide the fury in his eyes.

The king took his time with the rest of them, considering his options carefully it seemed. He didn’t particularly care, he just wanted this to be over with, listening to his footsteps as he made his way back down the line, this time certain of who he was after. The prince’s blood ran cold when he stopped in front of him, grabbing his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to face him.

“Tell me about this one, please?” The king said politely to one of the sellers, who hurried over to do as he was told.

“Well, your majesty, this would be Prince Kassian, of the Reyedal kingdom.” He explained, and he swore he saw the king’s eyes light up at that.

“Yes of course, the little prince.” He said, and Kassian glared at him, roughly jerking away from his grasp.

“He’s a fighter, as you can see. He swears and he bites without that muzzle, honestly he’s a bit of a nuisance.” The man said, exasperated, and he felt a small sense of pride knowing he’d made his life even slightly more difficult.

“Oh, I can train that out of him.” He said, catching Kassian’s attention as he added, “I do like a challenge, he’ll do perfectly.” He said, sparing a brief glance at the prince if only to revel in the way his eyes widened, for a moment that bravery and defiance shattered as he realized exactly what was going to happen to him from here.

As the two men discussed payment, speaking about the prince as though he were simply an object, he stood there numbly, the realization still sinking in. He’d already had his title, his status and his freedom stripped away as though it were nothing, as though he were nothing, reduced to simply being a product to be sold, a product that was being bought by a king who seemed all too eager to break him down. He didn’t spend too long letting the despair sink in however, by the time the two had come to an agreement he’d made a decision of his own.

He knew then and there, he wasn’t going to let this man break him- he knew then and there, he would die before he let that happen.

[igotyouniverse]

Higher

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Request: henlo I know I already requested something, but can I please get drabble prompt no 7 with hyunjin from stray kids, either like rivals to lovers or maybe secret crush. And make it SOFT please. fast forward 15 minutes` → make it ;) now.

Prompt: “That's the eggnog speaking.”

Genre: rivals to lovers, non idol au, fluff ending, suggestive.

/Lots of bickering and oppressed feelings and ;) tension, friends trying to hook you up with Hyunjin, who you’re totally not interested in.

Warnings: light swearing, alcohol, suggestive(!!), make-out

words: 2.7k

Part of my Seasonal Requests Special - Winter Edition.

a/n: This was so much fun to write. Oh and it's a full-blown scenario. Whoops. This was requested by my best friend: @ithilinne Honestly I hope you find it as funny as I do, lol. ❄️❤️❄️❤️I enjoy writing bickering so much, it's fun! Plus, dude. Hyunjin. Do I need to say more? I hope you like it !❤️

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“I'm totally getting drunk tonight.” you exclaimed in annoyance, helping Felix to put some snacks on the table. “Mind telling me why?”, your friend asked grabbing some of the alcohol bottles he had in his cupboards, to place them near the snacks. “Dude, I'm studying like crazy. My life's basically books.”, you groaned, while placing down cups, “but apparently I'm not good enough to get in the top rankings. But guess who is? Hyunjin. Again!”, frustration swang in your voice, as you spoke about your long-time rival.  

“He's not even studying!”, you added, throwing your arms in the air. Felix chuckled next to you, a grin gracing his face. “You really need to let off some steam.”, he said, making you roll your eyes at him. “I don't have time for such distraction.”, you hissed and looked at the clock, pretty sure that your friends will arrive soon to your small gathering.  

“I don't even get why you're so annoyed by Hyunjin. We're in the same group of friends after all. And I honestly think you two would hit it off-”, you stopped Felix in his sentence, putting a hand on his mouth to keep it silent for a second.  

“He annoys me because he doesn't study and is still beating me in every single seminar. That's fucking unfair. Plus, he is arrogant and annoying.”, you muttered, a sigh leaving your lips as you waited for the doorbell to finally ring. If you were being totally honest, you weren't even sure why exactly Hyunjin was taking your last nerve. Maybe it was the way he always grinned at you in that stupid cheeky way whenever you had to take an exam. Or maybe how he always asked about the rankings in the group chat – even though he were perfectly aware of the fact that he was better than you. Every. Single. Time. But maybe it was how he always tried to tease you every chance he got. And maybe – just maybe, because he was ridiculously good-looking for being such a pain in the ass.

When the doorbell finally rang you rushed out of the kitchen, hearing Felix laugh behind you. The first person who greeted you was your best friend, two bottles of eggnog in her arms. “Damn, you do know what I need.”, you chuckled as you hugged her. “I always do, love.”, she winked and pecked your cheek before disappearing in the kitchen, greeting Felix. The rest of the group just walked in after her, greeting you with hugs and even more booze. Last but not least, Hyunjin entered the door and grinned at you. “Just saw the new rankings.”, he clicked his tongue, sighing at you while walking past you, “I'm still at number one.”, he whispered into your ear, before entering the kitchen as well, leaving you behind. Ass.

You felt Felix's eyes on you as soon as you entered the kitchen as he handed you a glass of eggnog. “Exactly what I need.”, you mumbled and took the cup, taking big sips, enjoying the sweet flavour on your tongue.

“I honestly thought I might fail that one sociology exam. I swear, I didn't study a bit.”, you heard Hyunjin brag to Minho but you clearly saw how he looked at you with that stupid grin on his stupidly beautiful lips. “Yeah, right.”, you snorted before rolling your eyes at him, taking another sip from your drink, trying to keep you sane. “I'm sure you'll be better than me the next time.”, he said, shrugging his shoulders before chuckling.  

“You know what's better than sex?”, your best friend whispered in your ear, making you jump slightly as you didn't even hear her appearing next to you. “Angry sex. Letting off some steam, you know.”, she added, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes as hard as humanly possible and grabbed a second cup full of eggnog after already finishing the first one.  

Your eyes wandered over to Hyunjin, who casually leaned against the wall, talking to Minho and Felix. He wore his longer blonde hair in  a loose ponytail, messy strands of hair falling down on his shoulders in soft waves. You let your gaze continue to wander over his figure, how his black leather pants hugged his figure and how his fitted shirt showed off his upper body. “I'm telling you.”, your friend whispered still right by your side, obviously following your gaze, “If I were single, you know.”, you freed your gaze from Hyunjin's figure and looked at her brown eyes, which winked at you. “God, stop it. He's arrogant and annoying.”, you sighed, before biting your tongue. You looked up for a second, just to meet Hyunjin's gaze, which nonchalantly eyed you just the way you did with him, before a mild grin appeared on his face and he looked back to his friends. Damn it.  

An hour later you were peacefully munching on some crackers your friend  handed you between your cups of eggnog. “Oh wow, I see an empty cup and that's a crime!”, you heard Felix say, dramatically putting his hand on his heart to show his shock. “I already had-”, you started your sentence, but Felix interrupted you, “Nonsense! You need more!”, and before you could protest he filled your cup and chuckled as soon as you took your first sip.

You started to feel the warmth inside of you, leaving you all fuzzy. For a moment you felt like your mind wasn't about studying and grades, which you enjoyed to the fullest. You let your eyes wander through the room, watching how your friend was nuzzled against Chan's arm, while talking to him and how Minho tried to play Jenga against Changbin but lost for the third time in a row, which let the boys around them laugh out loudly. You chuckled, watching how he pouted and said that Changbin was probably cheating or else he wouldn't be able to win. Your eyes searched for Felix and maybe even for Hyunjin - which you would obviously never admit in a sober state of mind, but you couldn't see either of them.  

As your bladder was filled with alcohol you naturally needed to go to the bathroom for a moment. Staying in front of the sink you checked your Make-Up you put on fro the night, after washing your hands. You slowly turned your face from side to side, checking if everything was still set and looking okay-ish. You left the bathroom with a small smile on your lips, heading through the floor until you suddenly had to stop in your tracks as Hyunjin nearly ran into you.  

“Oh sorry, didn't see you there.”, he said with a small chuckle. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah.”

“You look really pretty tonight.”, you heard him say and for a second you thought you lost your ability to breath. ´”What?”, you asked furrowing your brows. “I said, that you look really pretty tonight.”, he repeated calmly.  

“So I'm usually ugly?”, you snorted back at him.  

“No. You actually look pretty every day but especially tonight.”, he answered, scratching the back of his head.  

“Yeah, stop making fun of me, idiot.”, you rolled your eyes, wanting to go back to the others but your legs just didn't want to move.  

“I'm not making fun of you-”, he started.

“Seriously, shut up, Hyunjin.”, you interrupted his sentence, “Honestly, you're an arrogant and annoying ass.”, you snorted, feeling how the booze in your system made you feel way more confident than you used to be.

“What annoys you about me?”, he asked you while moving a step closer to you.

“Everything. Your teasing and always being better than me, without actually studying.”, you started but you felt how your voice got just a tad shakier when you felt him shifting in front of you.  

“Honestly, it's unfair. Would be easier you if you weren't that hot.”, you said before even realizing what words left your mouth. The alcohol in your system not even letting you feel ashamed over what you said.

Hyunjin chuckled in front of you. “Did you just call me hot?”, he asked but you shook your head.  

“Nope. That's the eggnog speaking. Not me.”, you laughed and tried to focus your eyes on anything else beside his body who was moving dangerously close to yours.

“Ah, bummer.”, he sighed in front of you, “would be great if it were you speaking.”, he added and a small smile graced his lips.  

“Why?”, you asked, your eyes finally able to actually look at his.  

“Well, because I wouldn't feel stupid for saying that I actually think you're attractive, too.”, he chuckled once more.  

“What?” you asked, completely dumbfounded, not quite sure if you're brain was even able to process this conversation.

“Jeez, I'm kinda confessing here. Would you mind meeting me halfway here?”, he sighed. At first you were annoyed but as soon as you saw his lips turn into a small smile you just blinked at him, realizing that he maybe wasn't even making fun of you at all.  

“Hyunjin.”, you said slowly, “You're annoying. And arrogant.”, you said, replying what just came out of your mouth minutes ago.  

“Yeah, you already said that. Thank you, by the way. It's not like I was complimenting you or anything.”, he responded.

“Annoying. Arrogant. Stupid.”, you whispered, while staring at Hyunjins face, your eyes wandering over every of his features. His deep brown eyes, with that small mole under his left one.

His small nose and those perfectly shaped, stupid lips on which your gaze rested for a couple seconds. You secretly wondered how they would actually feel on yours. You wanted to know how the fabric of his shirt felt under your hands and his bare skin under your fingertips. You needed to know how it felt like, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you and how it would feel to have his slender hands on your body.  

“I'm curious.”, you whispered as you moved closer to him until you could feel his breath on you cheek. Your eyes wandered back to his, which were locked on you. You felt how one of his hands cupped your cheek, his thumb softly running over your bottom lip, leaving you with goosebumps. Your breath quickened, when you let your hand rest on his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly in  his chest. You let your hand wander up over his shoulder to let it rest on his neck, until you slowly pulled him closer to you until your lips finally connected with his.

They were soft and tasted sweet like eggnog, gently moving against yours in perfect sync. Your other hand joined the one already resting on his neck, pressing him even closer to you, which made him smile softly into the kiss. Hyunjin's hands wandered down your back, until they rested on your hips. Chills went down your spine, warmth slowly spreading through your body which wasn't coming from the alcohol. It felt like you were finally doing that one thing your body and heart told you to do so many times but you never gave in - until now.

Just when you thought about how good it actually felt to kiss him, he moved his lips away from yours, his eyes looking at yours.  

“Curiosity satisfied?”, he whispered. You looked at him for a moment, letting your hands wander over the fabric of his shirt until you let them rest on his chest. Your hands shortly continued their way over his arms, until your hands were over his, which were still resting on your hips. He let you intertwine your fingers with his, leaving you in complete control over the situation. You looked over his face again, feeling an urge to just place a kiss on his skin, so you placed them on his neck for a quick second, leaving soft, quick kisses on his jawline and his cheek. “Not quite.”, you whispered back at him, before pressing your lips on his again but this time you wanted more, you needed more, completely unbothered by the fact that you were still standing in the floor of your apartment at a party.  

His lips were just as soft as before, slowly moving against yours, making you hum. You wrapped your arms around his neck again, his arms now gently around your waist, pressing you closer to his body to eliminate the air between them. You had to admit, kissing Hyunjin felt amazing. Like something you've wanted and waited for. You enjoyed how gentle he was, even when he smoothly let his tongue slip into your mouth for a moment, deepening the kiss, leaving your body with goosebumps all over again. Even now, he let you take control, kissing in your own tempo and exactly how you wanted and needed it.

He let you wander your hands over his upper body, exploring the softness of his skin. You wanted to touch every inch of his body, the urge to feel him nearly overwhelming you. Between all the teasing and glancing, all the cheeky grins and smirks you were curious. Curious how it would feel to feel that pretty mouth of his on yours.  

You enjoyed the physical sensation, how his hands gently stroke your back, until they reached for your head, holding you tightly. You were surprised about the gentleness of his hands, about the way he touched you.  

“More.”, you whispered between kisses, feeling how Hyunjin smiled against your lips. You lightly dug your fingers in his neck, connecting your lips again, feeling how his tongue entered your mouth once more. This time, you felt more pressure behind his kiss, as if he waited for you to allow him to do so. His hands slid down the sides of your torso, sending chills over yogr body, before resting on your hips. You felt how his grip tightened a little bit more and you smirked before grinding your body against his. A small gasp escaped his mouth and you wondered what other sounds you could possible coax out of it. You could feel how his kisses increased in intensity, his lips always connecting with yours, his tongue gently playing with yours. You needed to know what sinful things those lips were able to do.  

“Oh my God. Finally!”, you jumped away from Hyunjin, heart beating rapidly in your chest, as soon as you heard Felix yelling from the other side of the floor. “Jeez, this took way too long.”, he added and sighed in relief. Another head popped up next to him, belonging to your best friend, which raised a fist and smiled.  

“Dude, I said eggnogg is the solution!” you stared at the two of them while listening to some excited screams from the kitchen as soon as the others saw you, too.

“You owe me a 20, Minho!”, your best friend  screamed back at the kitchen and started to laugh. “I swear, I made like a hundred bucks tonight.”. She looked at you and Hyunjin, giving you a cheeky smile. “Anyway, we don't want to disturb you two any longer so we will be hanging out in the kitchen.”, she wiggled her brows, “with the doors closed and music playing so please, continue.”

Felix laugh halls through the floor before he turned around and closed the door  to the kitchen behind the group, leaving you alone with Hyunjin again.

“Not awkward at all.”, you whispered to Hyunjin, whose arm was around your waist. You looked at each other and immediately started laughing together at the absurdness of the whole situation.  

“I can't believe they actually made bets with money,”, he responded, placing a soft kiss on your temple. You smiled, closing your eyes for a moment.  

“So, what do you wanna do now?”, you asked him, looking at his twinkling eyes.

“Continue?”, he answered with a grin before wrapping both of his arms around you again, and placing his lips on yours once more.

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[90spumkin]

A Case of the Supernatural

Next

Summary: Can Spencer move past your death? What happens when he starts to see your ghost?

A/N: Not me starting another series when I haven’t finished the first. This is a crossover between Criminal Minds and Supernatural. I wrote this mainly because I am denial that either show ended. This will be a slow updated series because of finals next week and it took me four days to write this because I want it to be perfect. I hope you all enjoy and please leave your thoughts in the comments. Don’t forget to like and reblog! Also thanks @criminalmindzjunkie for the banner inspiration!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Ghost! Reader

Warnings: criminal minds talk, supernatural talk, swearing, some angst... I think that’s it

Word Count: 3028

Numb. That is all Spencer felt as they lowered your casket into the ground. With every shovel of dirt tossed into the whole in the ground was like stab to his heart. He accepted every pat on the shoulder and heard every ‘I’m sorry for your loss’, but he couldn’t feel any of it.

You were never going to be a mom, you were never going to have the chance to finish all those crazy art projects that scattered your shared apartment, and you were never going to hear Spencer tell you how much he loves you ever again. Hot tears stung his eyes and began to run down his cheeks.

“Reid it’s time to go.” JJ’s voice brought him out of the spiral his mind had started to descend into. He looked around and realized everyone was gone and your final resting place was now filled with compacted earth. He nodded in agreement but could not seem to move his feet.

You were really gone, and Spencer blamed himself.

-----

The BAU team was taking the loss of a valued team member and a precious friend extremely hard so Emily gave everyone a few days off to mourn. Spencer was a different case; it had been almost three weeks since your funeral and he had yet to leave the apartment.

He looked around at all the carry out containers and laughed to himself as he imagined what you would say: Spencer you’re living like a damn cockroach. At least you’re cute.

Spencer began to clean the three weeks’ worth of mess when he saw the bag containing your items from the coroner. He had been wallowing in mourning and self-pity that he completely forgot JJ had dropped it off.

Spencer disposed of the trash and sat down at on at the bar in the kitchen. The bag laid in front of him and all he could do was stare down at it. He took a deep breath: Okay Spencer you can do this.

Spencer slowly opened the bag taking deep breaths as he did so. He pulled out your phone, your set of keys, your… Spencer’s breath caught in his throat. In his hand on a silver chain was the engagement ring he had given to you three months ago. He smiled at the memory of you explaining why you wore it on a chain to work. You simply shrugged your shoulders I don’t want to lose it while chasing down psychopaths. Plus, this way it’s closer to my heart. You kissed him on the cheek ending the discussion there.

He placed a hand on his cheek while he wished he could feel the softness of your lips one more time. Spencer took a ragged breath and clasped the chain around his nick. He smiled at the thought of having something that was once close to your heart now close to his.

The good doctor decided then that he should probably put your things away and get some rest before his first day back at the BAU. As he was going through the apartment turning out lights, that he had not realized he had even left on, Spencer could have sworn he saw someone walked into the hall.

Spencer grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter and crept towards the hall. With his back pressed against the wall, he turned the corner quickly ready to take down the intruder. But what Spencer was faced with was nothing but his empty hallway. Spencer ran a hand through his hair and thought to himself: Well genius you are officially losing your mind.

He made his way into his bedroom and laid the kitchen knife on his dresser deciding he’ll just put it away in the morning. He walked to his window admiring the lights from the height of his apartment when he heard a laugh. He spun around so quickly he was sure he’d give himself whiplash.

There you were. You looked exactly the same as the last time he saw you, the moment you both decided to split up out in the field. Spencer was in absolute shock.

“I honestly doubt the knife would have worked. I am kind of already dead. It would’ve been funny to see what happened though.” Y/n joked as though this was all completely normal.

Spencer just screamed. Once he ran out of breath and gasped. There was stomping from the apartment above and very unpolite things directed towards Spencer. But he could care less, you were here. You were… a ghost?

Y/n looked bored and asked, “Are you done?” Spencer didn’t trust his voice, so he just nodded. “Good because I was expected a little more class from you Mr. 187.”

Spencer tripped over his words as he tried to run every logical explanation through his mind, “How the actual hell are you here? Am I dead? I’ve lost my mind, haven’t I?” Spencer began to pace the floor, running his hands through his hair.

“I think the term is ghost and no you are still perfectly sane. For the ‘how am I here part’ I am not quite sure. I can’t remember anything past the last 5 minutes.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders at that.

Spencer’s mind seemed to stop trying to apply logic to the situation and just except it. Because he began to relax, and tears brimmed his eyes. “Y/n I’ve missed you so much. I am so sorry. I should never have left you. If I would have stayed with you then maybe you’d still be alive.” Spencer choked on a sob which caused y/n’s no longer beating heart to break.

“Oh Reid. My death was not your fault at all.” She reached out a hand to caress his face, but it was like putting your hand through water. Her whole body glitched as if she was part of a malfunctioning video game.

“What was that? What’s happening?” Spencer’s face was pinched in confusion and worry.

Y/n seemed almost frantic, “I’m not sure. I feel like I’m being pulled away.” And with a blink of an eye she was gone. It all happened so quickly Spencer could almost say it was a dream, but it had been so real. Had felt so real.

-------

To say Spencer was tired was an understatement. He could barely sleep with the hope you would appear going through his heart and mind. It was around 4 am when exhaustion won, and he fell asleep gripping the ring that lay against his chest.

He was on is fourth cup of coffee for the day and he had only been there for one hour fifteen minutes and thirty-six seconds to be precise. He was stirring his mountain of sugar into the dark liquid when he felt a heavy hand clasp his shoulder and the smell of expensive cologne filled his nose.

“Kid you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Rossi told the young doctor as he leaned against the counter. Spencer snorted at that comment and just took a sip of his coffee, accepting the burn in his throat.

Before Spencer could even attempt to continue a conversation there was a loud gasp and the clicking of heels as his favorite human rainbow rushed towards him. He was instantly pulled into a bone crushing hug and it took every ounce of the little coordination he had not to spill his coffee all over his friend.

“Hi Penelope.” He simply said with a chuckle at the woman’s urge to always show her love in the most dramatic way.

She pulled away and started on one of her fast-spoken rants, “Oh my God you’re here! I missed you! I know I just saw you a couple of days ago when I visited your apartment, but this is different. Why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming back today? I should know these things!” Penelope slapped Spencer’s arm at that last part which drew an ‘ow’ from him and a light chuckle from Rossi who was watching the whole interaction.

“I’m sorry Penelope. When I got here, I went straight to Emily’s office and then dove into the paperwork required for my return.” Spencer explained.

Penelope smiled and let out a little huff, “Oh the love of paperwork. I will let this slide boy wonder, but it will not be forgotten.” Penelope gave Spencer’s arm a squeeze before making her way to her bat cave.

Spencer turned to Rossi, “I honestly expected that to be kind of worse.”

Rossi chuckled, “Luck my friend, luck.”

Spencer was about to launch into a rant about the statistics of how much of something good happening has anything to do with luck. That was stopped short when Spencer saw you perched on his desk like you use to do every morning waiting for him to bring you a cup of coffee. He gasped which wasn’t missed by the profiler who had been keeping an eye on him since he walked through those glass doors.

“Kid you alright?” Rossi asked with his voice laced with confusion.

Spencer didn’t take his eyes off you or the spot you had been when you glitched and disappeared just like the night before. “Huh? Oh. Uhh... yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be right back.”

Spencer sat his half drunken coffee down and walked as fast as he could towards the bathroom hoping not to draw any attention towards him.

Once he was safely in the bathroom and the door was locked behind him. He stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath.

“Well that was interesting.” Spencer jumped and whirled around to only be met with an empty bathroom. He turned to splash water on his face and when he looked up again, and saw you behind him through the mirror.

H returned to look at you and whispered, “What the actual hell y/n? Where have you been?”

“I’m not quite sure. There were times I could see you, but you couldn’t see me which was very aggravating may I add. The rest is just blank.” Y/n seemed very unphased by everything as she spoke. This made Spencer feel uneasy.

“Why couldn’t anyone else in the bullpen see you?” Spencer’s brain was still trying to put science behind it all.

“I’m not quite sure. I don’t exactly have this whole ghost thing figured out. Being a ghost is hard.” Y/n pouted, and it made Spencer’s heart twist into a what felt like a knot.

“I- “Spencer was cut off by a knock on the door. When he looked back at y/n she was once again gone, and Spencer had an overwhelming need to try and understand a part of the world his brain rejected every day. He needed to understand the supernatural.

------

Spencer had been to three different libraries and five different bookstores, all within a week. He would read any chance he got. The concerned looks he got from his team didn’t go unnoticed, and any time y/n would appear she would let her opinion be known that she believed no one could really understand the supernatural of the world.

Emily pulled up a seat next to his desk causing Spencer to glance up from his book that was only repeating what the last three books had said but in a different language. The look Emily was giving him convinced him it would be a good idea to put the book down. So, he closed the book and placed it on his desk, giving Emily his full attention.

“Spencer what has came over you? You’ve been nose deep in this folk lore and demonic looking books for days now. It’s just unlike you.” Emily’s voice was soft, and Spencer could hear the worry in her voice.

Spencer thought of a lie when he first started digging into all this for this exact reason, “I’m writing a paper on how science and physics can prove that the supernatural does not exist. I’m reading all of this so I don’t miss anything in my paper”

That simple explanation made the tension in Emily’s shoulders completely disappear. She huffed a sigh of relief before saying, “               Ahhhh I see. Well Rossi invited us all to dinner at his place. He’s going to attempt to show us all a new recipe.” This mad both Emily and Spencer giggle.

Spencer knew if he turned down the offer it would only cause suspicion to arise once again. “Yeah sure I’ll be there.”

Emily smiled and patted his shoulder as she stood, “Great I’ll see you there.”

Spencer hadn’t realized it was the end of the workday till Emily said that. He hadn’t seen y/n all day so maybe he could get through this dinner with little to no awkwardness… well more than usual.

He was the last to arrive at Rossi’s. He sat in his car and took a deep breath. He had to convince his team that nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Just when he was about to get out of his car all the lights came on and the alarm started blaring.

“What the he- “Spencer was cut off by the appearance of y/n in his passenger seat. She looked so sad and before Spencer could say anything else, he heard her say a quiet “sorry” and she was gone. The alarm and the lights stopped all at once, just in time for his team to come out to see what all the commotion was about.

Spencer got out of the car and quickly made his way to them, “Sorry about that. I really hate cars.”

This made his friends laugh and usher him inside. Once they were all in the kitchen surrounding Rossi and all his steaming pots and pans Spencer relaxed slightly.

Rossi tends to talk with his hands when he is demonstrating what to do while cooking. So, when he accidentally knocks over the saltshaker it’s not a surprise to anyone.

“Ah don’t want any bad luck.” Rossi says as he tosses some salt over his left shoulder. Spencer was about to launch into a spill of how salt was once believed to ward off evil spirits, but he didn’t get the chance. He was caught off by the appearance of y/n and her yelling, “What the actual fuck Rossi!” The salt seemed to arm y/n, but Spencer wasn’t able to dwell on that fact long due to the chorus of gasp throughout the kitchen. Luke was the first to speak, “Y/n? Is that really you?”

“In the fl-… well spirit?” Y/n laughed at her joke; she was the only one. Everyone just stood there staring until Rossi yelled “My pasta!” and rushed to save their dinner.

Everyone turned to Spencer, they all started talking over each other. He could make out a few questions and a few other statement. They all came to the same realization though: Spencer was definitely was not writing a paper.

It took Spencer ten minutes to get everyone quiet enough to even attempt to talk and then fifteen minutes to explain everything while they all stared at y/n dumb founded. Y/n just stood there smiling the whole time Spencer talked.

“So, what does this mean exactly?” JJ asked tears in her eyes and a sad smile playing on her lips. Your death hit her hard, not as hard as Spencer or Penelope but still hard. He saw you move closer to her but stop knowing that you wouldn’t be able to show her any physical comfort.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Is all Spencer was able to say.

-----

It took a few weeks for the initial shock of y/n being a ghost to ware off. Spencer would sometimes see members of his team jump at the sudden appearance of her. It was hard for them not to talk to her while in the office. Especially since she seemed to finally have gotten better at the ‘whole ghost thing’.

Spencer was nose deep in another book on folk lore when y/n appeared sitting on his desk. He looked around to make sure no one was paying him any attention.

“Hello love. Who’ve you been haunting today?” They always joked and laughed about how easy it was for her to scare Luke. Spencer was pretty sure JJ, Emily, and Tara had a bet going on about it.

Y/n didn’t laugh though instead she looked more ghost like then ever and said, “Spence, somethings wrong.” Then she was gone.

About that same time two men walked in the bull pen. He saw them ask Matt something and then made their way to Emily’s office.

Spencer watched through the window as Emily and the two men talked for a few minutes and then shook hands. She led them back out to the bull pen to introduce them to everyone.

“Everyone this is Agent Smith and Agent Jones from the New York branch. They have asked for our assistance on a case that has brought them here.” Emily explained.

The shorter gruff man spoke first, “You all can call me Dean and him Sam.” The taller one gave a tight-lipped smile and a wave that matched Spencer’s own very similarly.

“It’s an honor to work with you all.” The taller one, Sam, said.

After a few more greetings and polite conversations they all started to make their way to the round table room for debriefing. Spencer was just about to get up from his desk when words started to appear across the paper scattered on his desk: ‘They’re not FBI.”

Spencer looked up to see the two new agents whispering quietly. They noticed him staring and gave him a nod and smile. Spencer had an unsettling feeling in his stomach as he made his way towards them.

He debated between bombarding them with questions till they broke or just watching them knowing their behavior would tell eventually. He decided on the later because he knows he’ll do anything to make sure he can keep y/n around and if these two men were a threat to that then they wouldn’t be able to conceal that truth for long.

*

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Taglist: @criminalmindzjunkie​ @brooklynxnicole​ @hendersonsshadow​ 

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 51- Fallen Angel

(Sorry this is late! i got my vaccine and it mcfucking knocked me out lol)

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

The hermits return to Eremita from a restocking trip, to discover they have been raided. And one hermit has been taken. 

Warning: Capture, slight torture scene

_________________________________

Eremita has become their safe haven, the last bastion for the guild. Even when the arcane guard chased them all the way to the water’s edge, no sane person would dare follow the hermits into the Ashioll sea. Which is exactly why they lived in its mysterious, misty embrace. 

They could no longer simply fly off upon the backs of sky turtles, or even teleport into the towns they frequented. Now, when the hermits absolutely had to go into public for supplies they couldn’t make or grow themselves, they sailed in on Cleo’s pirate ship. And when they had to leave, they made sure that if anyone was following them, they took a roundabout direction back to their home. It adds time, weaving between the islands and through the mists, but ensures no one can guess where they live. 

Cleo’s pirate ship beaches up onto the sand, nestling back into place as a wrecked vessel once more. The dream magic fades, revealing broken oak boards, seagrass growing through seams, and splintered masts of the ghost ship Cleo commands. Hypno blinks free from his sleep, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Already? Man, my dream was just starting to get interesting.” 

With the help of rattling skeletons, their bones held together by magical muscle and sinew, the hermits unload food, meats, fabrics, and more. Enough for months, as if they were preparing to be snowed in after a massive blizzard. Almost all the hermits were a part of the flow of supplies. 

Almost. Only three hermits stayed behind. Zedaph had an accident with his two explosive friends, and while it wasn’t the first time, Grian wanted to keep an eye on the burns in case the magic lingered. Mumbo stayed behind as well, but for very different reasons. One, he was easily recognizable. Everyone knows the multimage that Dolios wants captured alive. Him and Grian are the only two who Dolios demands be captured alive. He also was in the middle of inventing some new contraption, and was not about to leave it behind and lose all his progress. Last Cleo saw of him, he was extinguishing burning locks of hair. She wonders if he’s made any progress, or if he’s burned all his hair away at this point.

Once Impulse and Tango have unloaded their share of the shipment, they go in search of their friend. Both still feel bad for burning Zed, even if it was by accident. And they’ve all been burned at this point in all their years together. But it doesn’t mean they don’t feel bad, especially leaving Zed behind. At least they brought back a caramel apple from his favorite stall in the market, as well as fresh hay for his barn and animal friends. 

“Zed? We have a surprise for you!” Tango calls, his voice twinged with mischief, as if they plan to prank their friend rather than give him a gift. No response comes from the flat roofed barn, except the distant bleat of a sheep. Tango looks at Impulse, fiery hair remaining vertical even as his head tips to the side. “Could he be taking a nap?” 

“You know Zed and his sleep schedule, he wouldn’t interrupt it, even when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.” Impulse waves it off. “He probably just isn’t listening, or maybe pulling a prank of his own. Let’s go in.” 

Impulse waves Tango through the gate, careful to keep the sheep, goats, and other farm animals from getting between Tango’s feet and causing his hair to ignite the dry hay in his arms. A horse nips at the bale, but Tango keeps it well away from catching fire. He’s relieved to lighten the load he’s carrying as soon as they're inside the barn. Both mages look to the bed tucked in the corner, but no Zedaph. Tango tosses the haybale aside. “He should be resting.” 

They clamber over the piles of hay, searching every nook and cranny for Zedaph. Even his cookie stash, which they let him believe is still a secret. But Zed is nowhere within the barn he chooses to live in. 

Concern pales both Impulse and Tango’s face, and Tango’s hair reacts in kind to the revelation. “Perhaps he’s being treated by Grian?” 

Tango doesn’t answer, already following the path across the width of the island, from one shore to another. Grian’s floating cloud, the quartz tower with large archways and a glass domed roof. Perfectly built for a sky angel, his wings and speed. Not so perfect for his roommate, and all of Mumbo’s redstone machinery, his own lanky body climbing up onto the solid cloud and stairs to sleeping quarters.

The redstone workshop at the base of the building has been cleaned up, though a few vials seem to have rolled away, as if they were grabbed then subsequently dropped. But, just like the barn, no sign of Mumbo. 

But there is a sound. Echoing from the glass dome, a sniffling, stifling cry escapes from above, followed by a gasping, shuddering breath. Impulse runs up the steps as fast as possible, each bounce from stair to stair accentuated with a tiny explosion to give him more speed. Tango blazes behind, fire burning bright as the sun as energy courses through him. He notices on the way up grey streaks against the pure white quartz. 

“Zedaph?” Impulse breathes, screeching to a full stop. In the center of the room, Mumbo and Zed are huddled close, holding on tight. Their eyes wild with fear, and in Zed’s eyes he can see a shared memory. A shared trauma him, Impulse, and Tango all share. Two hermits, holding onto each other like its their last hope. 

Only two. “Where’s Grian?” 

Mumbo opens his mouth, but a strangled cry only escapes. Tears fall from both their faces, shaking like leaves. Something bad has happened to their friend. Tango slides across the floor, grabbing Zedaph and Mumbo. “What happened? Where’s Grian? Are you hurt?” 

They both shake their heads, but finally Mumbo gathers enough of his voice to speak. It’s weak, broken apart like glass shattering. “He took him.” 

__________________________________________________

A cold, wet air fills Grian’s lungs, biting into his skin like ice on a cold morning. When he tries to open his eyes, the dull ache of his skull becomes sharp, forcing the angel to screw them closed again. Grian grimaces, trying to figure out why he has such a terrible headache. Did he hit his head in training? No, he wouldn’t have been allowed to sleep with the hermits hovering over him. Perhaps he drank too much. Once again, impossible. Grian knows what his hangover is like, and it’s not this. 

He realizes he’s definitely hanging, but not from drinking. Cold, hard metal presses flat against his wrists, suspended over his head. The iron bites into his skin, all his weight rubbing his wrists raw. 

“Good, you’re awake. I was starting to get bored waiting, though I do quite enjoy relishing in finally having my prize thirty years in the making.” The snide, even tempo of Magistrate Dolios’s voice hurts worse than any headache or wrist, and Grian finally manages to open his eyes. The cavern he finds himself in is foreign, not even remotely similar to the brick and iron dungeons where he last woke up in Dolios’s clutches. So long ago, it feels like. The Championship. At the time, he felt like he was at the top of the world. Now? Now he feels like the world was crushing him. 

Grian resists his bindings, but even when he kicks outward, his feet don’t even scrape the dank floor. He tips his head back, until the crown of his head collides with a smooth, hard material. Just at the touch, he can feel the oppressive energy of the crystal. In his vision, he sees the sharp tip of the massive gem. Each wrist is locked tight against the crystal, the nails buried deep in the crystal lattice. 

He looks around, searching for other hermits. For Mumbo, the last face he remembers before…

The memories flood in, cascading alongside the fear and panic. He remembers everything, every terrifying second. Leaving Zedaph to meet with Mumbo, he remembers the scent of marigolds on his hands, just after crushing the petals to make a paste for Zedaph’s burns. The quiet island, most of the other hermits gone. He remembers patting his pocket, the note from his best friend telling him to meet at Iskall’s place. 

But when he arrived, Mumbo was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t unusual, Mumbo tended to get distracted and be late. So he waited, plucking orange petals from his clothes, hair, and hands. He should’ve noticed the way the wind shifted, becoming cold and stale, before disappearing completely. 

He should’ve realized something was very wrong when the grey stormcloud appeared. But he didn’t. He was so focused on waiting for Mumbo, then on getting rid of the flowers in his feathers, that he didn’t see the husks crawl their way free of the ocean. At least, not until the husk of a soldier came barreling for him, empty glowing white eyes and ashen, flaky form charging with halberd drawn.  

Grian squeaked, dodging the attack. Stumbled over the writhing form of a cactus cat, the fading spines still quite sharp, he was saved by a pair of not-grey arms. 

Not grey arms draped in wine red fabric, the hems decorated in gold thread. He realized who it was immediately, and scrambled to try and get away. But Dolios’s magic kept a strong grip, vines of black twisting and tying Grian’s wings to his back, while a hazy fog had grown around them. 

He remembers the feeling of Dolios’s hands in his hair, pulling him to his feet as he struggled and fought against the vines and the fog that filled his mind. Hands clawing at his binds, even biting the magistrate at one point. He remembers the taste of blood, iron on his tongue and Dolios swearing, blasting Grian with magic. 

And the last thing he remembers, before being knocked out and torn away from his home, was Mumbo’s face. Rounding the corner, completely oblivious to the fight occurring. It was at that moment that Grian realized, when his eyes locked with Mumbo’s that it wasn’t him that sent the letter. The confusion, of seeing Grian, the surprise on his face. He was walking towards the infirmary, dropping the box  in his hand upon seeing the sight before him. 

The fear on Mumbo’s face matched Grian’s own, as he was dragged into the sea. A second later, a swift burst of sonic energy knocked him out. 

And now he’s here. Dolios saunters across the room, gathering ingredients and writing down notes. Grian swings his legs, and summons his wings to try and be free. But as soon as the blue and white feathers appear, they crumble into ash. Crushing weight sets in on his head, his shoulders, his lungs, and his magic, and the crystal he’s trapped against hums with power. “You’re quite different from the last angel I hunted. At least you fought back, but in the end they left me without the gift of their magic. This time, I’m not letting anything go to chance.” 

The magistrate sets his bowl of guts aside, approaching the crystal and Grian. His hands are clasped behind his back, shoulders straight and head held high. The weight of the oppressive dark magic doesn’t bother him. Grian’s not ready to give up just yet. He attempts to kick Dolios, but the dark mage stands mere centimeters out of reach. So Grian decides to use his words. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” 

“I’ve been told that once or twice before, yes. But the rest of Lairyon loves me. And why wouldn’t they? I’ve brought prosperity to this kingdom, done more than that stupid rainbow king could ever do, and all of this because of my power.” Dolios sweeps his hands, vapors of dark magic swirling from his fingers as his fingers clench to fists

“Stolen magic. If the citizens knew, they’d hate you just as much as I do.” Grian reels back his head, and does the best he can to annoy Dolios. He spits on him. The glob of spit lands on Dolios’s cheek, the magistrate flinching, then reaching up and wiping it away. A fresh anger in his eyes. 

“And who would believe you? An outcast mercenary orphan? The last of your kind?” Dolios stoops low, plucking a husked feather from the floor. He walks back to the table, mixing the components and ingredients from his jars of death with Grian’s feather. “Your power is rare. Angelic mages are always powerful, a power I crave. You will be a wonderful addition to my collection of magic. The last of the angels to complete my set!” 

A fearful shiver ricochets down Grian’s spine. “You’re going to turn me into a husk?” 

“Oh, gods no!” Dolios laughs, so loud that it echoes off the cavern walls as he throws his head back, brown curls dancing across rich fabric. “I wouldn’t dare waste such magic to become simple energy for me and my beast. No, no. Do not fret, little bird, you will become so much more. I don’t plan to drain your energy. I plan to steal it.” 

The hunger in Dolios’s eyes as he turns, the concoction in his hand, Grian realizes what he's seen all this time in Dolios’s eyes. Hunger. A madman hellbent on taking what he sees as rightfully his.. A predator stalking his prey. And Grian was cornered, pinned. Unable to fight back, unable to fly away. Fear is replaced by terror, a sensation Grian struggles to fight back. He needs to think clearly if he hopes to survive. 

“The last angel died before my powers were…” Grian pauses, seeing the coy smile on Dolios’s face. 

“I always had a-” Dolios pauses, waving his hand nonchalantly before marking the ground around the crystal spires with dark seal. “-fascination with angelic wizards. A dear friend of mine in my youth was one. Ever since then, I knew I had to have that kind of magic in my collection. So strong, each and every one of you. With magic even the ancient ones revered. And now?” 

Dolios steps back, casting his magic circle. Rather than emitting color and light, it absorbs all color to make the pattern of his magic. He raises his hands, and two satellite crystals awaken. Darkness swirls in the lattice of the gems, mist eeking out through pores and filling the cavern with darkness. When the mist reaches the seal surrounding the crystal Grian’s chained to, the spire behind him, pressed against his back, activates. The pressure on his body, his magic becomes unbearable, breaking into pain. Like a harpoon through his chest, the dark magic takes hold. Biting down, biting in. 

And slowly, agonizingly stealing his magic. So intrinsically tied to his soul, hsi lifeforce, it feels as if his very being is being dragged from every inch of his body in contact with the crystal. He writhes to escape the painful magic, but the bonds hold firm and he struggles to catch his breath. Dolios steps back, basking with ravished delight at the scene before him. Enjoying the pain that tears at Grian’s skin, soul, and spell. “Now the magic will soon be mine.”

[yokelish]

Worth millions.

Remember that? Back by popular demand. Reworked, improved, but only miserly so. And with chapter two coming soon~

✏ Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs ✏ Characters: Nakahara Chūya, Dazai Osamu ✏ Word count: 3,650 ✏ Warnings: swearing, smoking. ✏ Part I; Part II

Worth millions.

Chūya narrowed his eyes at the figure near on the pier. It was close to midnight and no sane or law-abiding citizen would wonder around those docks alone. He did not expect a fight tonight but would be willing if it come to that. It was, after all, his mess to deal with. And whoever was standing in the way would be crashed by gravity. Chūya took a minute to observe what the person on the pier was doing. If it was some vagabond scaring them away wouldn’t be an issue. At first glance it seemed the figure wondered around the pier aimlessly — looking around to satisfy their curiosity or satiate the desire to observe small beauty of the world, —but only at first. Nakahara didn’t have to waste another minute to understand the person on the pier was looking for clues, evidence. And that was Chūya’s job. Then, it wasn’t a simple-minded wanderer or a drunk wondering in the moonless night. This person had a purpose to be here.

“You better know how to swim,” Nakahara said with a dangerous cadence. With his silhouette shrouded in darkness, he knew and meant the danger emitted. There was no escape from the pier unless they wanted to swim. Or face him. He had no issues with either option.

“Shiiiiit,” the voice uncertain echoed. “I’m taking too long.”

Chūya smirked and moved closer, slowly, biding his time. There was no need to be hasty with this interesting encounter. It was rare for something interesting happening on the job in the dead of the night. Someone else was here with the same purpose. It couldn’t be boring. But he wasn’t planning to let them go. If they were a part of those thugs that dared to challenge Port Mafia, there was only one way out for them.

“Port Mafia, right?” the voice asked, refusing to move, standing their ground. Intimidation was only present in their voice, and Chūya wondered if he was carefully toyed with. Pretending to be frightened before making a move.

The stranger raised their hands in surrender. “I am not looking for a fight,” they continued talking to him confident that they were listened to. The pier wasn’t enough for the two of them. Nakahara came closer, close enough to recognize their features in the moonless dark.

“That’s unfortunate,” Chūya said, smirking. “I might be.”

The person didn’t say anything, didn’t back away from him or step close as if kept there by stubbornness, ignorance, or blind bravery. Instead, they reached inside their pocket. And if this stranger thought a gun could scare Port Mafia, they were both wrong and stupid. A figure dressed in black and wrapped in deep-red glow, For the Tainted Sorrow. Suddenly, the dark space between them brightened. It wasn’t a gun they were reaching for but a torchlight. The light was aimed at the sky enlightening them about this encounter. They didn’t even use it to blind the mafioso and make a run for it. Even more stupid than he gave them credit for.

“Well, damn,” they said with a bright and irritatingly unafraid smile on their face. “Nakahara Chūya, the gravity-manipulator and martial artist. I am not buying lottery tickets this month.”

Chūya tilted his head in question. A very well-informed enemy or… simpleton Dazai never failed to open his big mouth. “Dear Detective Agency,” he sighed with irritation. “Suicidal moron can’t shut up about me.”

“That’s where you’re right,” they confirmed, straightforward and facile.

“What do you want?” Nakahara asked, crossing his arms. The Agency was an enemy; however, fighting them here and now would do nothing for the greater conflict. Boss, too, proclaimed temporary ceasefire. Acting against Boss’ orders was equal to betrayal. Also, they didn’t look like a challenge or threat in any way with that too eager to please and appease attitude.

“Just looking for something stolen,” they replied, nonchalant. “My guess is that you are here for the same reason.” This openness of theirs was getting on mafioso’s nerves. He wasn’t known for a patient temper. The Agency member could have tried to dance around his questions, run or offer a trade-off. But it seemed like they were trying to work out some semblance of functional cooperation. As long as it went within the lines of his loyalty to Port Mafia, he could match this pace.

The smile grew on their face before they turned off the light. It was bright.

“We can help each other!” Agency’s detective offered in a chirpy manner.

“Can we now?” Chūya scoffed, amused. “Just say you need my help.”

“I don’t,” they shook their head. It wasn’t spoken in mockery or false confidence. While the darkness blurred their features, he still heard the smile on their lips. “But you need mine.”

Nakahara raised a brow, antagonized. Dazai must have been giving out lessons. Bandaged freak had an unmatched skill, but they were gravelling him fairly fast too. Chūya didn’t need help, especially from a detective of the Agency. Nakahara was a Port Mafia Executive; he was the merge of a human and a god Arahabaki. Help was the last thing he needed. He expected them to prove the point, but his patience was running dangerously thin each second.

“The smugglers,” the person started talking quickly as if sensing the heat, “didn’t finish their transaction. What did they do with the merchandise? It’s a pier. Not many places to hide things.”

“If they had half-a-brain, an airtight aluminum case would take a day or two underwater,” Chūya shrugged.

“I bet you don’t want to swim tonight, it’s cold, brrrr,” they rubbed their shoulders, mimicking the experience. “So, I will graciously save you from that.”

Mafioso crossed arms on his chest and smirked. There was no way of impressing him, less so of doing him any favours. But he was allowing for this to happen simply because it was quite fun. It didn’t last long, however. Soon, the sound of moving water filled the dark and silence around them. And something rectangular came from the water and floated into their hands effortlessly. It was the case, unmistakably, it couldn’t be anything else.

“I can beckon objects towards myself if I know what they are,” they succinctly explained. “Since I know yours, it’s fair that you know mine.”

Chūya didn’t ask but was given an answer. Perhaps, by some strange morality it was fairer for him to know their ability since they knew about his. But this wasn’t the world that cared about fairness. They were coming from two different worlds, opposing views. They were enemies. It wasn’t personal. From the wrong side, one of them for sure was, had to be. Yet the Agency’s detective continued with the task as if nothing were amiss. Chūya watched them take out a lock-picker’s set. He chuckled, amused. All that talk about morality…

“You are probably here for the valuables,�� they continued to talk, unbothered, while trying to pick the lock. “Allow me take one thing. Our client has sentimental value attached to one of the objects inside.”

“They stole more than just valuables,” Nakahara replied. Wittingly or not, he almost said more than needed. Chūya had to hold his tongue from saying anything more. Speaking more than needed would be more than just unwise.

“Ah, is that an invitation to take everything else but what you need?”

“No.”

“Kidding, kidding.”

The case opened with a distinct click. A sound of a skilful lock-picking. From the Armed Detective Agency, indeed. But, true to their word, only one thing was taken. Nakahara had no clue why that would be an object of sentimental value, however, but Lady Luck was on their side. He didn’t need that.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” they said, standing up, and offering a polite and reserved smile.

“That’s it?” mafioso asked, unimpressed. There were a few things he could imagine being spoken, tastefully mixed into the conversation, to make a little sharper, a little more dangerous. “Nothing else to add, dear Detective Agency?”

“Gimme a sec.” There was a theatrical pause perfectly executed. Acting worthy of the effect it produced, with a finger to tier mouth and a thoughtful expression on their face. “Oh, no, Port Mafia! How could you! That’s not right, Port Mafia!”

Chūya shook his head. It was amusing it its twisted, overly dramatic way, but the comedy was too close to reality to be truly funny.

Their act was quickly dropped, switched for a more serious expression and tone. “You could have thrown me into the water the moment you saw me or a moment after when you realized who I was. But you didn’t. And agreed to cooperate.”

“That’s—”

“Hm?”

“Never mind,” Nakahara dismissed the protest. For one, defending his perfectly logical actions seemed foolish. Second, and most importantly, there was no need for him to voice it and neither it seemed to be heard. If that’s gratitude they were offering — to hell with it.

“Scatter,” Chūya commanded in slight jest. “I have work to do.”

The detective bowed to him in jest, most graciously bowing out of their encounter. He let them go and afterwards sighed. There was much a lot of work left to do.

One would safely and reasonably assume this one chance of an encounter was the only time he’d meet someone from the Agency outside of conflict. It wasn’t so. Sometime later he got to see them again. It wasn’t anything related to a job and happened in the light of day. He saw them with jinko and young murderess approaching the local shopping centre. At the entrance, however, they stopped and waved goodbye. The kids proceeded on their own inside. That would have been it: Chūya saw them, they didn’t see him. Such was his conviction, until they waved at him. From afar, sure, and it could have been anyone else who was in his general direction. But somehow, he had a feeling it was aimed at him and no one else. He didn’t acknowledge them in any way.

“C’mon out anyone who’s still alive,” he grinned maliciously into the camera. Chūya was having a bit too much enjoyment with this. After all, it was about time he’d get to play cat and mouse with the Agency. Ceasefire wasn’t much fun.

In the dark tunnel, finally echoed footsteps other than his. Playing the messenger was a boring beat, but a brawl wasn’t completely out of the question, ever.

“Just two of you? What an insult,” Chūya sighed. Just two enemies and not even the most intriguing ones. It all unfolded just the Boss’ predicted. The Agency cannot help itself but to be predictable this way. A confrontation was started to make the blood run hotter. He wasn’t a good match for a messenger job anyway. Everything was working out splendidly. Except for when the voice came from the speakers. The voice belonged to an enemy, the other side that Port Mafia will never reconcile with. He knew the voice — knew exactly who it belonged to — but still hearing it here and now was somewhat unexpected. Something he couldn’t even explain to himself.

“President, with all due respect, I’d like to say something,” came from the speakers. Nakahara stilled the moment he heard it coming from the speakers, he wanted to hear everything.

“I believe in the Agency’s strength just as much as you do, you know it. But we cannot take on the Guild alone. There’s one thing Nakahara was right about: we are short staffed,” the voice on the other side spoke with underlined worry. Mafioso wondered how it felt to speak rather defensively of your enemy. What he’d like to know even more is why even speak in defence of an enemy. But since it was serving Port Mafia’s purpose…

“But if you think such crude tactics would work on us, then Mafia is unfit for waging war,” the President’s voice spoke.

“Veiled threat from the enemy leader himself? Such an honour,” Chūya mocked.

“What are you hiding?”

“Not a thing.”

“He is not lying,” familiar voice interfered. The gravity wielder grinned devilishly. He wasn’t lying, they were correct in that assessment. But it was no good news for them. A shame, truly. For them. So bravely and insistently speak in the enemy’s support. That was the luxury or stupidity few could afford. He couldn’t.

“Why would we need to move?” Nakahara asked with the same smile on his face.

“Alright, fancy hat,” another voice spoke up. And then there was a snicker. Chūya never heard them snicker before but had no doubts it was them. Otherwise, it was the enemy leader and that was a far less appealing thought. Fancy hat?

It wasn’t because he had any doubts about Boss’ plan or because he didn’t trust in the abilities of his fellow comrades. It was because he hated Dazai. Because he wanted to see what was going to happen, what that schemer had pulled this time. And because deep inside Nakahara already knew what sort of deal the Boss would make given the chance. Mori wanted Dazai back in the Mafia, and while Chūya was perfectly content without the failed suicide around, it wasn’t for him to say so. Whatever cliché game he was asked to play, he’d play it till the end.

From up here he could witness the whole thing and, if something were to go terribly wrong, he’d be down there in seconds. But he had unwavering faith in Boss’ planning. Still, the cigarette in his mouth was burning. It was boredom. From up here, he could see everything but not hear it or be entertained by any other means. One, two, three, four…Number four is deadly, according to superstitions.

“Fancy seeing you here!” said the voice from behind. Familiar voice, sure, but it was not supposed to be heard here. Chūya turned his head. That very same detective of the Agency coming to him at such convenient time? It couldn’t be a coincidence. What a cliché, Dazai, especially for you.

A huff, a puff. The cigarette started to taste a lot better now. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t a question but a warning.

“Don’t worry, no one knows I am here. If you throw me off this roof, it’s a perfect crime,” they quickly assured. And while there was a small laugh at the end of that sentence, he could hear it was filled with anxious tension. “I wasn’t invited for the meeting either but still came to watch. It’s not as concealed up here as you’d think.”

Mafioso kept quiet, feeling annoyed, feeling played for a fool. But before the right words to scare them off came to mind, the voice spoke once again.

“Here,” there was a nudge on his shoulder, “it’s a far better thing to put in your mouth.”

Nakahara looked at what was offered. Goddamn ice-cream? He raised a brow in question. This was more than just a little strange. This was getting a little ridiculous. And the idea of throwing them off the roof didn’t seem as alien as before. Nonetheless, under his murderous gaze, they didn’t relent, continuing to hold up the ice-cream in stubborn generosity.

He had to look away from them. “Damn it.” Agitated, he still begrudgingly put out the cigarette and accepted the ice-cream. The packaging wasn’t messed with, with drops of water from being in the freezer just recently. They, too, had one. An ice-cream for themselves with the packaging matching. Mafioso tore it open. Damnit. It was cold and sweet, vanilla flavour hidden underneath dark chocolate.

“See? I was right. It is a better thing to put in your mouth,” they grinned at him. Not malicious, not mocking, it was a cheerful, kind smile of a friend. They were enemies, people from different sides, fighting for different things. Reconciliation was not an acceptance — a strategy.

“Choose your words better,” Nakahara scoffed.

“Sorry, sor—"

“Or I will throw you off the roof.”

“I said sorry. So, um, what do you think? It’s going fine, right? Even if it’s just to defeat the Guild, we can come to an agreement of sorts? You’d help, right?”

“What are you getting at?”

“I am… worried.”

“About?” he asked without any interest whatsoever. But since this was a conversation — a very used play at social norms and small talk — he would indulge them only for the duration of this ice-cream. A shame to let a good thing go to waste.

“My…comrades,” the enemy answered. That was a delicate answer. Too delicate for such situation. Even Chūya could understand the worry one would have for one’s friends and comrades. Yet something didn’t sit right with him as if a gut feeling telling something he couldn’t yet understand.

“So, if you are fighting alongside one of them, would you help them?” they asked. It sounded so naïve and genuine. Terribly sweet, just like this ice-cream. Underneath the dark chocolate, something awfully sweet and innocent white in colour.

“Is that what their life if worth?” Chūya asked, thoroughly amused. Quite a conversation maker this one. “An ice-cream?”

“Nah, a life is invaluable. And smoking kills. Take care of yourself.”

Chūya laughed. Loudly, thunderously, profoundly regaled. He was pillorying them and their ideas. But, still a nudge on his shoulder, playful in its manner.

“I am counting on you, Nakahara Chūya!”

This was getting too ridiculous for Nakahara to comprehend as a sane person. “Scatter.” He didn’t even mean it maliciously or as a sincere threat. It was a reminiscent jest. And like before, they bowed to him and offered a polite smile, graciously leaving the situation.

Chūya hated Dazai. He hated all the faces Dazai had: arrogant kid, suicidal failure, scheming bastard, traitor, liar, and womanizer. It wasn’t even all the list of masks his ex-partner had. But Chūya would take out the trash once they were done here. The reunion was a temporary arrangement. After, he would be free to deal with Dazai as he wished. What else he hated? The number of body bags his people came back in. All at the fault of a child whose ability was abhorrent.

“Do it,” Chūya said with certainty. He would remember that number for a good while after this is all over and is but a history.

“Oh yeah?” Dazai sounded too chirpy for himself. “Well, in that case…” The knife Dazai conveniently snitched slashed the wooden cage Q was trapped in. Nakahara watched, and the mafia-black blood boiled inside him.

“Your hypocrisy makes me want to vomit,” he stated with sincere spite. The knife stopped chipping at wood as Dazai started to explain such hypocritical act. Excuses, excuses, that was the core of this traitor. Chūya knew for a fact what his ex-partner thought of Q’s ability. What a pathetic, lying bastard.

“It’s a logical decision,” Dazai excused his actions. “Plus, I don’t know how I would look them in the eye.”

“The Agency?” Nakahara shrugged, uninterested.

“Aren’t you curious, Chūya?” It was taunting. “Nosy about my personal life?”

“Personal life? You don’t have such a thing, womanizer.”

“People change, Chūya,” Dazai replied with a sickeningly familiar smile. The bastard meant what he said. Gravity manipulator hated him all the more for it.

Nakahara crossed his arms. “People? Maybe. What do you have to do with them?”

His ex-partner pretentiously pouted. “You know, Chūya, I know your moves down to pacing and breathing.” Dazai stood up. The knife remained plunged into the wood. “But I never knew you liked ice-cream.”

“Bastard, I knew it was your scheme!”

“What? No.” Ex-mafia shook his head. “What would be in it for me? But relationships are built on trust and honesty. So, naturally, I came to know of it. I was as just as surprised as you were.”

That sickening smile, that arrogant tone! Chūya had Dazai pinned down as well. The assortment of face masks of his once-partner…and the appalling pleasure to study them all. But the most abhorrent thing was that the hypocrite wasn’t lying. The bandaged bastard was taking pleasure in speaking the truth.

Dazai was slowly shortening the distance between them. “So, why did you behave like an obedient dog, Chūya?” The languid steps forward, putting them dangerously close together. The shorter mafioso pressed his fingers into a tight fist. The leather gloves squeaked.

“Answer me, Chūya, for old times’ sake,” Dazai continued to provoke. “I don’t think it’s because of ice-cream, was it? Could it be…? Oh.”

You are on thin fucking ice, Dazai. It wasn’t for any other reason than killing time. It wasn’t because he found them strangely intriguing in their passive acceptance of him being from Mafia. And it wasn’t because they spoke in his defence. To speak in your enemy’s benefit was the luxury or stupidity few could afford. He wasn’t impressed by their stubborn kindness despite knowing that he was stronger than them. That he could kill them. That he was an enemy.

“You never could hide your emotions, Chūya. Your face does say it for you,” Dazai was now grinning viciously. “You like them, don’t you? You like them.”

Chūya pushed forward, angry, provoked, with all the spite he could muster. The fist landed hard. The force of his punch sent Dazai stumbling backwards. But there was glee in those dark eyes. The delight Chūya rarely witnessed, but it wasn’t totally alien. It felt good for him too — to punch Dazai in the face like that. Yet his blood was still boiling hot. And there was a bitter and tight feeling in his throat, tasting of sweet vanilla ice-cream.

“Oh, the look on your face, Chūya,” Dazai mumbled, mocking, gleeful, and seeming to ignore the swelling on his face and the pain that came with it. “How did you say it before? “Better than a masterpiece worth millions”?”

[dameferre]

can we see a snippet from the "penpals!" courferre one :0

of course! i will warn you this will. most likely never see the light of day BUT it’s based off of ‘the year of secret assignments’ by jaclyn moriarty, a... kind of ridiculous book i bought at a charity shop at like. age 10? or something

basically these three sets of teenagers are assigned pen pals at a neighboring school, and hijinks ensue, with one set of penpals giving each other secret assignments (hence the title), the other set of penpals being a girl who writes to a guy who uses a fake name (that plotline ends horribly, it would not have done so in my fic lmao)

one finally one set of penpals (a boy and a girl) decide to start having practice dates, so the guy can hone his skills and ask out a girl he likes, and the girl can critique his form, and... i mean i think we all know how this goes.

anyway, it’s half in letter format, half actual writing the story. here’s a snip! (under the cut because i. couldn’t help myself)

Official Assessment of the Second Meeting By Chance executed by The Lord of Flowers, Combeferre, henceforth referred to as the Subject, as reviewed by Courfeyrac the Ravishing, henceforth referred to as The Operative.

NOTES

When the Operative (and Guest) approached, the Subject smiled very nicely. It was a sort of surprised, warm smile that lit up his face. Did the Subject practice his ‘oh I was hoping to see you and I’m so glad I have’ smile in the mirror?

The Subject did a very good job of consoling the Guest, and as it turns out, the Subject’s height is not as offensive as previously thought, as he holds an umbrella perfectly.

The Subject was much more relaxed this time, and funny, and his hair fluffed a little in the humidity which was adorable. He had a great way of explaining things to the Operative without being patronising, and teased admirably. The Operative spent a good 80% of the walk laughing, but upon writing report can’t remember a specific instance of hilarity. The Subject should have more memorable jokes next time.

Overall, great work Combeferre. You’ll have Feuilly falling over himself to get to you in no time.

Yours,

Courfeyrac the Ravishing

--

Courfeyrac,

You seem to be losing your touch; that last review lacked the mildly insulting bluntness I’ve grown so accustomed to. Does this mean we’re becoming friends?

Anyway, I’m now, as you would say, ‘balls-deep in tech week’ and halfway through my descent into the deepest pit of hell. The entire production is an original script written by a friend of mine, named Jehan Prouvaire, who decided to rewrite the final scene this weekend. They’re my friend, have been for years, but even I wanted to murder them slowly. The cast is hard at work trying to learn the scene, while I had to stay late last night redoing all the cues.

The worst part of it is, the new ending is fucking fantastic, so we can’t even stay mad at them.

It’s exhausting. Literally exhausting; I got three hours of sleep last night.

Anyway, I’m writing this as a way of avoiding calculus homework. Not that I wouldn’t write to you if I didn’t have calculus homework, but it is harder to just ramble on about my life now that we’ve met in person. I don’t think I ever would have told you about Feuilly if we had met before we started writing. There was something in the anonymity that made it easier, like writing into a diary. I hope you don’t take this as an insult- what I mean to say is that now that I know you, I want you to like me. And by extension, I want you to know a lot less about exactly how lame I am.

Anyway, I wanted to say I won’t be able to make a meeting by chance this week, though I know telling you that ruins some of the fun. If I’m around next week, which is really looking less and less likely every time an actor misplaces a prop or mic pack and I am forced, once again, to weigh the pros and cons of murder, I’d be happy to accidentally run into you on my way home from school.

Side note- Avi(my brother) comes home next week, which lines up nicely with Mom’s birthday and means he’ll be able to see the show. It’ll be nice to have him back. I think you’d like him; he’s the attractive one in the family, and the extrovert. He’s also a mechanical engineer who medal-ed in track when he was my age. Basically, he got all the good genes, but he’s too nice to admit it.

Anyway, calculus beckons.

See you on the other side, Combeferre

p.s. Only you would practice a smile. Mine was genuine, I swear.

--

My Dearest Combeferre,

FIRST DAY OF PRACTICE STARTS TOMORROW HELL YEAH

I mean, yes, technically the other guys on my team have been practicing for two weeks but I have sadly been out of commission. BUT NOT ANYMORE BABY THE BITCH IS BACK

This will help distract me from the pain and yearning as I wait a whole week to see you again. I’ll be wistfully wandering the moors before Saturday, mark my words.

I’m also fascinated by the idea of a brother who’s you, but more attractive. Does it hurt to look at him directly? Do strangers fall in love on the spot? Is he officially considered a menace to society because he’s caused traffic accidents and ruined weddings by walking past at the wrong moment?

Someone should put a stop to him before things get out of control! No man should wield such power.

The idea that you, of gorgeous cheekbones, perfect hair, jawline, and eyes and face in general, notorious multi-tasker, valedictorian and walking encyclopedia, not to mention polyglot, could think someone else got the good genes means either you are humble to the point of actively lying to yourself or your brother is a minor deity.

Courfeyrac, I can hear you saying, flattery really isn’t necessary.

But it is! Enjolras, who I’ve mentioned before and is my best friend in the whole world, is gorgeous to the point of being inconvenient to look at. I’m a notorious flirt, I know this, and I’m good at it, but we’re not even in the same league when it comes to making people question their sexualities. He walks into a room and you can see half the people inside mentally decide they’re bi-curious. He’s also a raving lunatic and antagonistic asshole, which he openly accepts and takes pride in, but try to tell him he’s attractive and he looks at you like you’ve just suggested he’s got wings or a tail. So what I’m trying to say, I think, is that I’m used to people not realising how good looking they are. And bludgeoning them with compliments is my way of dealing with this.

Anyway. Getting sidetracked.

I’m flattered you use me as a method of procrastination! I’m gonna make myself a button that says ‘more interesting than calculus’ and wear it with pride. Also, is writing to pen pals not mandatory at the Academy? We’re given a half hour block during the study period. When we first started, Enjolras said the whole thing was “infantile and outdated and a waste of time”, but at this very moment he is on page six (6) of his latest aggressive correspondence to his mystery R, even though I saw what R sent him last time and it was, I shit you not, an envelope that was empty except for a tiny (approx. 3 centimeters long) rubber chicken. For context, the one before was a thorough analysis of wage inequality written entirely in pig latin.

I hope one day I meet this person, even if immediately afterwards they steal my kidney or turn me into a newt or whatever minor trickster gods do these days to pass the time when they’re not torturing my best friend.

Anyway, gotta go, stay sane, don’t kill anyone unless you really have to, and if so lemme know and I’ll help you get rid of the body. I know a guy.

Courfeyrac

p.s. I already like you, idiot.

[oftenderweapons]

Girls’ Night — a girlfriends’ tale

Characters: OCs (Vixen, Princess, Lace), small Namjoon intromission

Wordcount: 12.2k

Genre: slice of life with discussion of BDSM themes, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello doves! As I announced the other day, I have been working on extra pieces that I really loved as a concept. This one — I must admit — is especially dear to me since it covers topics that I consider extremely important. This fic discusses mature themes. Please minors, do not read or interact.

Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. A few days after her first brief session with Jimin, two old acquaintances come to her help: Vixen — Namjoon’s girlfriend and Princess’ high school classmate — and Lace, Vixen’s best friend, Princess’ university flatmate but also Taehyung’s latest crush. (Tae and Lace met through Vixen at Taehyung’s housewarming party). The girls meet for dinner at Princess’ apartment and after some confessions and girl talk, they explore the most important rules and procedures a person should know before dominating their partner in a basic impact play scenario, with special contributions of a trained domme and an experienced brat. 

The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).

On a lexical note: throughout the text I’ve used the word “dom” both as in short of the verb and of the noun. Even though the feminine form is usually “domme”, I’ve considered it gender neutral, as a short term for both “dominator” and “dominatrix”. 

On an ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decided to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first.

On to trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, obviously there is in-depth discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. Discussion of hard limits, negotiations, SSC (safe, sane, consensual), safewords, aftercare, bruising, cutting/puncturing (connected with cane and cat-o-nine-tales whipping), marking, pain kink, punishment, drop (both for subs and doms), anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit), sex toys (spanking, face slapping, paddle, riding crop, slapper, strap, whip, flogger, cane). That should be all. In terms of angst, there is some insecurity, jealousy, and slightly traumatic past experiences. Lace recalls one time she “dropped”, Vixen recalls a series of quite intense scenes. There are mentions of Vixen’s second relationship (toxic relationship with a man who called her out for her sex drive, kinkshamed her and forced her into becoming exclusively vanilla). Both Princess and Vixen mention abandoning some friends since they couldn’t trust them close to their boyfriends, or not respecting their privacy. Lace mentions traumas that lead her to learn domination. She also explains her insecurities about possibly dating Taehyung.

Word count: lengthy. 12.2k words. Reading is not necessary but recommended since a lot of pieces stem directly from this one. 

Here is my masterlist!

Enjoy 💖

————————————

EDIT: You can find part two here

————————————

Lace came through with the loud stomps of the heels of her boots, the bag on her shoulder swaying heavily. It looked like she was ready to enter Cat Woman mode, wearing a cropped leather jacket rimmed with a thick black-fur neck. Her wondrous thighs were clad in tight, high-waisted jeans, her black leather knee boots completing the look. She impeccably wore her part.

As she neared the door, she checked her watch, noticing that she was a couple minutes early.

Five minutes later, always fashionably late, arrived Vixen, her hair falling perfectly around her pretty face, her lips tinged with a deep wine red, her doe eyes as inquisitive and wide as usual. It was exactly the girl she had met two years before on the other side of the counter of her shop, it looked like she hadn't aged a week.

"Hello!" She greeted her friend.

"Hi there! Look at you, you look like the best girlie in the world." Lace hollered back.

"Because I am." Vixen replied, basking in the attention and the praises.

"That self esteem is thriving! Freshly fucked and ready to misbehave?"

"Unfortunately not freshly enough, but you know me, I'm always ready to misbehave." Vixen winked before making her way to the entrance of the building, pressing the buzz for Princess' apartment.

"Isn't your big boy attending to his duties?" Lace asked, curious about the whole situation. She had personally met Namjoon and had seen the two of them together. They looked like the it-couple and she would gladly bet big money on the pair. Plus she knew about Vixen's collection and Namjoon's taste in terms of lingerie and negligees: in her honest opinion that's a solid base for a lasting union.

"He's attending, yes, but I don't want to vex him with my continuous cravings."

"Baby, not all of us are like that slut-shaming bastard of your ex. Stop thinking that needing to get laid more than once a week is a shame."

Princess voice sounded from the intercom. "Hi! It's floor 16 number 41!"

"Thank you!" Vixen replied before pushing the door open.

Lace slapped her hand and held the door as Vixen walked through. The other followed. "It's just that… He's been busy, plus he keeps saying he likes to come back early so we can have dinner together, he's always rushing from the studio to the dorms to his apartment. He looks like he'll get drunk on motion sickness before the tour even starts."

Lace stared at her feet as you both stood in the lift. How could she start something serious with Taehyung if they were going on tour? By the time she would get used to him he would be travelling on the other side of the world.

"So he stays at the dorms?" Lace fixed her bag on her shoulder.

"Often, yes. He stays at the apartment when I'm around, but he prefers the dorms when he's by himself or working."

The lift dinged and you exited, heading down the hallway "Thirty-eight, forty, there!" Lace chirped, noticing the open door.

There stood Princess, hair in a ponytail, wearing a fashionable white turtleneck and a thigh knee-length skirt. She looked classy and smart, just like she had appeared during previous meetings.

"Hello girls!" She waved at the pair, gesturing at them to come in.

"Hi there!" said Lace, "long time no see."

"We don’t see each other in ages and then two times in less than a month." Princess replied while hugging her. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we reacquainted?”

Vixen nodded with a cute smile. "It would. I must say it was a surprise to meet you at the party with Jimin." Vixen took off her shoes as Princess offered her a pair of slippers.

"It seems like fate brought us back together." Princess replied.

“Indeed.” She commented, thinking about how they would get even closer if she gave in to the preternatural connection with Taehyung. Lace tugged at her boots, fighting with them a little before finally removing them, lost in her thoughts. She clumsily tried to avoid Vixen’s stare. She knew the girl would spot her secret in a second. Not now, she told herself. With the slippers on, Lace still looked like Catwoman from the ankles up, but her feet were clad with a pair of pink panther slippers that gave the outfit a hilarious twist.

"Let's move to the kitchen," Princess said, leading the way. "The apartment is small, sorry."

"Don't worry sweetie, with a view like this I would gladly live in a shoebox." Vixen commented, looking out of the window. "Plus you live pretty high up."

"It was accidental. I just needed something close to my office."

"What did you end up doing?" Lace asked as she looked at the prints on the wall.

"I work for a fashion magazine. Usually I do model casting and a little bit of everything about organising photoshoots." Princess replied.

"That sounds great!" Lace exclaimed, grinning.

Princess clumsily opened a bottle of wine, but fortunately no damage resulted. "What about you?"

"I'm a shop assistant in a lingerie shop." Lace replied.

"Don't diminish yourself like that." Vixen said, looking away from the window. "She works at the La Perla boutique in Gangnam, plus she has her own studio where she creates customised orders." The woman patted her friend on the shoulder. "She's amazing."

Princess lit up. "So you managed to make part of your dream come true!"

"A small part. I'm still far from having my own shop." Lace exhaled.

"But she's getting there." Vixen added with a positive note.

"I ordered in a little bit of everything." Princess said, taking the food out of the oven. "I didn't trust my cooking skills knowing this one." She pointed at Vixen. "I've heard you're almost a chef."

"I just took lessons." She shrugged. "I just really like everything that feels like home."

Sniffing at the air, Vixen sparked up, getting cozy at the smell of bulgogi. "This smells very nice."

"A little bird told me it's your favourite." Princess winked.

"Do I know that little bird?"

"He knows you very well." Princess said, admiring how the polished, elegant woman-girl turned completely smitten.

"I'll make sure to thank him."

Lace snickered. "Do you need help?" She offered, while Princess laid out a bunch of smaller plates and bowls with side dishes. "I got some dumplings, pancakes and our baby's favourite: braised potatoes."

Vixen clapped enthusiastically.

Dinner proceeded calmly, all the partakers digging in quietly, chitchatting between one serving and another, catching up on the various mishaps that had happened during those years apart.

"So you studied in Europe, right?" Princess asked Vixen.

"I spent almost two years between France and England, yes." She replied politely, sipping her wine composedly as if she hadn't devoured her serving of potatoes like a very smug wolf.

"Cool. But you came back here." Princess continued.

"Yes, I missed home. And I missed jajangmyeon." Vixen grinned. "Food in general. I like my life here. Living in Europe to me felt like being continuously on the sidetrack of something. Catching up with the culture is seriously a challenge, especially when you're in the art world."

"Right, you're an interior designer." Princess reminded herself.

"Exactly."

"I've heard you met Namjoon because of that."

Vixen smiled. "Yeah, well… The usual. We met at a gallery, I had a meeting with the artist and he accidentally participated. The artist and the director of the gallery accompanied us through the exhibition and at the end he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. At the beginning I thought it strange that he hadn't booked a private visit, but he said that because of a last minute plan he had begged the director to book him in anytime. Since I'm friends with the director and I have strict privacy agreements at the firm, the curator thought it was a good idea."

"Who would have thought, uh?" Lace chirped in, laying her chopsticks on her empty bowl.

"Y'all, soju?" Princess asked, now that they were all done with the food.

While Vixen nodded, Lace held back. "I think I'll take just a sip. It gets me bloated."

The table was clean, the small cups for soju laying on the table as Princess shook the bottle and poured it according to tradition.

"Cheers to your taken asses and my single one." Offered Lace, the three of them laughing and downing the liquid. Princess drank it without even blinking, Lace taking it in a small measured way while Vixen downed it and scrunched her nose, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head as she processed the burn.

"You're still a doll." Princess commented.

"And you're still otherworldly cool." Vixen replied, smirking. "You were the most bad ass girl of the class. I had lots of respect for you, but I was so scared of approaching you."

"You were so tiny and shy." Princess gushed. "You were everyone's crush but you were so smart. And a bit strange. It felt wrong to even think of you like that."

Vixen shook her head, "It feels strange to bring up those memories. After university and being abroad it feels like another life."

"Because many things changed in the meantime." Lace argued. "I've known you since you started working, two years ago."

"I spent half of my first paycheck at your shop."

"You did. And I asked you for coffee because I liked your sense of fashion."

"I thought you wanted to date me." Vixen laughed.

"Well, when you're done snuggling your big bear, you know you can come to me." Lace winked.

"My bear is pretty big so it might take me a while to be done with that." Vixen joked. "Plus I'm pretty happy. I haven't been this happy since I was nineteen. I'm content. Satisfied. Taken care of. Loved. I'm thriving." She closed her eyes and shrugged, smiling.

"My bad." Lace patted her own shoulder in support. "What about you and Jimin?"

"Oh, we met during a photoshoot. I assisted in his shoot and when he was done he asked to see the pictures that would feature on the magazine. That's when he asked me out for dinner." Princess said, her eyes shining as she remembered the event.

Lace noticed the two women staring at her. "Well time for my story… Me and my dildo met at the store, he was cute, I was needy and I invited him to my bed. That's how we first met and we've been happy ever since." Lace told emotionally. The other two burst out laughing, Vixen holding her belly while Princess leaned on the table.

"Oh goodness." The smaller one said.

"I think it's time we face our main topic. Would you like to start?." Lace asked Princess.

"Okay. I'll be very direct." Princess warned.

"Don't worry, we're all grown ups here. You're safe, darling." Vixen stretched her arm out to caress her forearm. "And we're pretty open minded, trust me."

"Okay. Basically, Jimin would like me to get a bit more rough in the bedroom. Namely, we tried spankings the other week. He sort of power-bottomed? Like he gave me instructions on how to do it."

Lace nodded.

"I am worried about how to handle this. I want to do it, but I don't know how to do it right. I don't want to hurt him." Princess said with a frown. “And I’m a little worried I liked it so much.”

Lace’s lips formed a small conspiratorial smile. “At the beginning there’s always a little bit of fear. And a bit of… Shame.”

“Yes.” Princess confirmed. “But it’s not something that bothers me. Like, it’s there but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it will persist. When I think about what we did… Well, I’m almost proud.”

Lace smirked and nodded. “That’s good. What would you like to work on? Is it just impact play — you called it "spanking" — or is it also domination on a broader sense?"

"Well… Wait, I took notes." Princess looked around, walking towards her bedroom and coming back with a small notebook and the guide.

"It's the book!" Lace exclaimed.

"The book." Vixen wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"You, vixen." Lace smirked. "Namjoon is right calling you that."

"You have no idea." The other replied. "Now, let's see."

"I'll return you the book." Princess reassured her.

"You can keep it for another bit. You'll need it again with Jimin."

"We have our own copy, don't worry." Princess replied, with a quick smirk. "Well, I think I can dom pretty fine — as I read the book I realised I already have some of those behaviours. However there are some practices I might have to learn in person."

"Normally we teach how to dom through subbing: what you experienced the first time with Jimin was subliminally subbing." Lace took the reins and explained. "It is one of the most sophisticated forms of domming — being a power bottom — and the fact that he did that should suggest you that A — he's a very skilled sub, or B — he's generically a very smart person with good manipulative skills."

Princess listened to the explanation quite raptured. "Personally, I don't know how far he's gone with his exes but I would say he has taken the lead before and he's quite used to speak up and order me around a little, so his behaviour might come from that."

Lace nodded. "I would recommend that you talk to him and try to design a specific plan for the two of you. As I hinted before I have taken lessons on BDSM practices in a club here in the city. I have received almost two years of training and I have taken part as an assistant to a teacher for another two years, that's why I might sound academic and serious. You can stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable or when you need to ask a question." That's when Lace shifted. Her whole position changed: her back got straighter and her hands splayed on the table, somehow squaring her position.

"Okay." Princess confirmed.

"You know that during university I took that course on acrobatic yoga?" Lace asked.

Princess frowned. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, it wasn't exactly acrobatic yoga." Lace shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "At the beginning I did do some acrobatic yoga lessons but then one of the students introduced me to this BDSM course and I left yoga for… yeah, you know." Lace laughed.

Vixen listened quietly, observing Princess' reaction.

"Would you consider taking lessons from an expert?" Lace asked.

Princess shrugged. "I think that the book was very good on general analysis. Personally, I've never considered meeting an expert mostly because I wouldn't know where to look for one. Plus, I've only had a week to think about this."

Vixen looked at Lace. "I'll be very blunt here, darling. I think that the best thing to do would be discussing the whole book thing with Jimin. Have pre-session negotiations. Discuss stuff. Find out what you want to explore and go there together."

Lace raised an eyebrow. "However, it is perfectly okay if you want to practice by yourself. Being a good dominant means that you can convey control and safety through your stance and behaviour. That requires practice."

Vixen nodded before adding, "It's okay if you want to take some steps by yourself before bringing him into the equation."

"Okay, so I reckon you have quite some knowledge on the theme. Maybe you could teach me something?" Princess asked Lace, a bit shy but fully determined.

Lace smirked. "That's why I came prepared. However, I must remind you I have been a co-trainer, and that doesn't mean I am a teacher, therefore I can only cover the basic stuff, which for now will suffice."

Vixen's eyes burned expectantly.

"Our girl here might help you see stuff through a submissive's eyes, right?" Lace questioned.

Vixen nodded and smiled, reassuring Princess by placing a hand on top of hers.

"Okay. Let's talk about general principles. BDSM is an acronym for Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism. But I guess you read this in the book." Lace presented.

Princess nodded.

"The golden rule is SSC: Safe, Sane, Consensual. Use protection and make sure that you're both tested and clean if you go without a condom or dental dams. Also, keep your toys clean. Do not start anything if your judgement is clouded — by alcohol, drugs or violent, instinctual emotions. Make sure that both you and your partner want the same things. Explain what is going to happen and negotiate before each session — at least for the first few times. This is also the right moment to talk about safe words."

"Me and Jimin covered these already." Princess noted.  

“Then you’re already halfway there. The biggest part of training is making people always aware of all the steps that could possibly go wrong and make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”

Vixen nodded. “As a sub, it is important to feel safe. An anxious sub is a sub who can hardly feel pleasure, and that invalidates the experience as a whole. We only do it for pleasure.”

Princess listened carefully and thought about it a little. “How… How does it feel…To be a sub? I mean, I’ve sort of subbed with Jimin but… Yeah.”

“Well, I’m leaning-sub. That means I rarely dom, and when I do I’m a power bottom — that thing that Jimin did when he gave you instructions on how to dominate him. Being a sub has a lot to do with feeling cherished and taken care of. Some of us are not comfortable with power and responsibilities. Some of us simply like to be told what to do and please. I like doing what Joon tells me to do and do it perfectly the way he wants it to be done, because I know he will praise me and reward me. I know that he loves me regardless of me doing what he wants, but it pleases me immensely to use my submission to show him how far my trust and love for him go. I feel safe when I'm in his hands. And I like punishment, it helps me deal with guilt. When I make a mistake, I always torture myself with guilt and self-hate, but punishment makes me feel like I've made a mistake and I've paid for it. The point is not the punishment, but rather the forgiveness and the sense of atonement afterwards." Vixen spoke with a composed attitude, however her eyes wandered around nervously, as if trying to avoid meeting the others’ gazes.

"In that case the dominant is supposed to be attentive in terms of how far the submissive pushes themself. A sub looking for forgiveness is a sub willing to go further than normal, which means that they might inadvertently reach their breaking point — which shall never happen." Lace highlighted.

"The golden rule is to always leave hungry. There is a fine line between satiety and nausea. The moment you overstep and reach nausea is the moment your sub might hurt themself." Vixen said, tight lipped.

Princess nodded. "I'm glad we can have this conversation. It's not something I can quite talk about with my friends since the whole situation with the boys is pretty delicate. I had to close some of those friendships to keep Jimin safe. I realised I couldn't trust some of those people and I'm glad I realised before it was too late."

Vixen’s leg started bouncing. “Same with Joon. I don’t have that many friends in the city, mostly because of the time abroad and the fact that all of the friends I had by now are married and/or with kids. I couldn’t trust many of them, but you —” she said, gesturing towards Lace, “and when I introduced you to Namjoon I told him you were one of the most discreet people in the world, because you value your privacy and other people’s privacy because of your, uhm, lessons.”

“It feels good to have someone to share this burden with. I’m pretty scared of the tour.” Vixen looked down. The poised young woman seemed to crumble, giving space to an insecure little creature. “We’ve been dating since last November, but our relationship hasn’t really begun until late February. To be honest I’m terrified.”

Both Lace and Princess reached out for her.

“I’m scared.”

“Have you told him?”

“Yes, he knows.” Vixen sparked up for a minute. “We talk a lot. He always asks me how I feel about things. Lately I’ve been spending all my time away from work with him. It’s been… maybe three days since I last went back to my apartment. And in the last month or so I’ve slept alone maybe three or four nights. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s away.” Vixen’s eyes welled up with tears before she smiled classily and recomposed herself. “But that’s not relevant.”

“It is, baby.” Princess rubbed her shoulder. “You have my number. You can reach out to me anytime.”

“I’ll be there too, you know. I know I’m not your Big Bear, but I can cook and I’m an excellent vintage movie marathon partner.” Lace rubbed the other shoulder, catching the few tears that had fallen. This was a further confirmation that Namjoon was the right man for Vixen: he had reached out to Lace a few weeks after they had been introduced, asking her if it was cool if he asked her updates on Vixen during the tour, mostly because he knew she would put up her strong, charming face in front of him, but secretly she would be worrying over his absence. That brought them close; it felt good to create this safety net for Vixen and it felt even better to know her in the hands of a man worthy of her, attentive despite his busy schedule and strong work ethic.

“Thank you, girls. That’s really sweet of you.”

“You’re the one who made this possible,” said Princess, gesturing to the three of them sitting at the table together. “I owe you. And I reckon this is a good time to make amends for not making friends with you in high school.” Princess laughed. “We’ll all need each other. We could have a group chat with Jin’s girlfriend too. Plus Jimin mentioned Yoongi is seeing someone.”

“Yes, Namjoon mentioned too. I’ve heard she’s a lawyer. He’s got this insanely huge crush on her.” Vixen giggled. “I haven’t met her yet but I’ve heard they were supposed to go out tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll see her at the next gathering.” Princess wondered. “I must admit I’m curious.”

“I am too.”

Lace felt a bit out of the conversation. “Me and Taehyung have been texting.”

Vixen blinked and turned to her. “What?” She had this face that read perfect confusion. “How long? And you’ve never told me? I mean, I gave him your number but I didn’t—”

“It’s because I haven’t been really taking him into consideration until recently.” Lace replied. “Normally I would reply to him with small texts, just to avoid sounding rude.”

“You mean to tell me you have Taehyung wrapped around your little finger — Kim Heartthrob Taehyung — and you weren’t even interested? Have you been doing drugs too?” Vixen looked outraged. “Fucking insane.” She shook her head.

“You know me. I value my privacy. Do you know how fucking un-private it is to potentially date that man? What if they find out about my extracurriculars?” Lace pointed out.

Vixen exhaled and formed a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t give me the disappointed mom look.” Lace replied. “Plus I’m the same age as you, you have no right to turn judgemental.”

“Of course.” Vixen nodded. “Your safety first, love.”

“It’s just that I want to, but I can barely imagine how fucked up that could be.”

Princess breathed out. “Jimin and I have been extremely private about us and me being so close to the press means I am risking so much.” Princess opened her arms wide. “But it would take a catastrophe to take him away from me.”

“Give him a chance. Tell him about everything outright and let him choose. He’ll take his chance. Don’t choose for him.” Vixen pointed out. “That’s how I did with Joon. We talked and clearly said ‘this is what I need and what I can give, can you comply? Are you okay with it?’ It’s a bit of a bet, but I think the prospect of gain outweighs the actual risk of it.”

Lace nodded. “And then there’s the tour.”

Vixen and Princess nodded. Vixen tried to keep her insecurity and jealousy at bait. All those girls drooling over him, all those female staff members travelling with him. She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her forehead against her palms, her lovely hair falling forward.

Princess, sitting beside her, rubbed her back. “What if you just give him one date. Tell him your situation both about your, uhm— hobby and your emotional state. I’m sure he will understand. His emotional intelligence is impressive.” Princess stated, nodding, her hand still rubbing Vixen’s spine.

“He’s the kind of man I would gladly be a sucker for.” Lace explained. “I knew I was a dom since I was eighteen, but Jesus, I know I would sub for him.” Vixen seemed to awaken at that comment. “I’ve seen his stages. He is insane.” Lace bit her lip. “But I need time to trust him. And it would feel useless to get cosy with him only to have him leave for the tour.”

“Just tell him.” Vixen encouraged her. “He will surely work with you on a compromise.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Are you okay?” Lace checked in on Vixen.

“Yup. Just a sudden jealousy rush.”

Lace frowned. “He would never. Don’t worry about that.” Lace cocked her head to the side. “He worships the ground you step on.”

“Girls throw thems—”

“He throws himself at you.” Lace remarked. “Plus he loves you. You love him. That’s all that matters. He gave you the passcode to his house, basically made you move in, what else do you need? I bet he’d gladly handcuff himself to you if you asked kindly enough.” Lace joked.

“Scratch that ‘kindly enough’. He’d cuff himself to you without you even asking.” Princess remarked.

“Can we move back to the BDSM introductory lessons?” Vixen asked, shaking her head, but with a tiny smile on her face.

Lace saw that was a good sign. Princess smiled beside her. “Okay, I’ll go with my request. I know I told you I wanted to get to know more of impact play and if we could focus on that...”

“Yes, I get where you’re headed. Let’s get it. But we’ll need a clean table for this.” Lace explained.

“Let’s do this.” Princess stood up from the table, beginning to clean up everything. It took the girls only a couple minutes to get rid of dirty dishes, empty boxes, the glasses and the soju. Even the fruit basket the guests had bought was moved on the kitchen counter.

“Do you have any sanitizer, perhaps?” Lace asked.

“Isn’t it better if we move to the sofa?” Suggested Vixen. “Use the coffee table?”

Princess shrugged. “Same to me.”

Lace nodded convincedly. “Let’s prep the coffee table. Sorry for the main table.”

Princess shrugged. “Needed to clean it anyways.”

A few minutes later the girls were all sitting around the coffee table, Lace’s bag placed at her side while Vixen occupied her other side, Princess sitting in front of them.

“Let’s do an impact play in depth analysis. What you need is one — a dom, two — a sub, three — optional, — supplies.” Lace listed. “Let’s go a bit at a time. First, the dom. A dom must be sober, lucid. No alcohol, drugs, and most importantly, no impulsive, instinctual emotions. If you’re furious, don’t go there. Violent emotions can cloud your judgement. Don’t let those lead you. Of course you might be angry or aroused, but that must not take the lead. If your anger makes you want to give them fifty spanks, but normally your sub can take twenty, you can negotiate maybe twenty-five. Be judicious, never hungry.”

“Good.” Said Princess, focusing on every single one of Lace’s words.

“Once you’re sure you’re in a coherent, calm mindset, you should negotiate with your sub. Remember: safe, sane, consensual. Safe, in this case, involves that your supplies are clean and cannot hurt your sub, both in terms of cleanliness and state of use. Check for loose threads, scratches on leather that could possibly host bacteria or dirt, splinters in case of wooden devices, porous surfaces. We’ll talk about this more accurately in the supplies section. Sane means to check your mindset and your sub’s mindset. Same rules as before: no alcohol, drugs, violent emotions.”

Vixen made eye contact with Lace, silently requesting permission to speak. “Small note on that, may I?”

Lace nodded.

“Your sub might come to you while being emotionally unstable. They might need you for comfort or atonement. Make sure to heal that emotionally before dealing with it sexually. It means to discuss what caused the upset state of mind in order to identify the real entity of the problem, correct the perception of it and negotiate the atonement.”

“Excellent point.” Replied Lace.

Vixen smiled cutely.

“Can I have an example?” Asked Princess with a frown.

“Of course. Let’s say I fucked up at work, I booked the wrong artwork and the artwork they wanted is no longer available. I manage to find an alternative but I somehow feel like I let down my client. I go home and I am scolding myself because I didn’t deliver what was asked of me. My dom may spot my disappointment or may recognise self-punishment. Also, I might explicitly tell my dom I am not feeling well due to a sense of guilt. This leads to my dom asking me why I am upset or why I am punishing myself. I — along other perfectionists like Jimin — tend to overestimate my mistakes, making them a bigger deal than what they actually are. My dom corrects my perspective through objective analysis, underlines my successful abilities in dealing with the issue and suggests potential improvements on those things I didn’t manage to solve. Perfectionists have a strict inner judge that scolds them and punishes them. Therefore their psych is divided into victim and punisher. This fracture obviously causes discomfort. The dom’s goal is to heal this fracture, especially since the perfectionist’s “punisher” side — so to say — is very strict and usually overestimates the damage and subsequently overestimates the punishment. After correcting the perception of the mistake, the dom gives an appropriate price for atonement.”

“So the goal is to stop the guilt trip mechanism?” Princess asked.

“Yes.” Vixen confirmed. “But this is just one kind of spanking. There are other cases. It can be educational or simply sexual. Educational is when the dom corrects the sub’s behaviour because they violated a rule or an order. In that case it’s mostly dom-initiated—”

“Unless the sub willingly misbehaved to earn a punishment.” Lace added.

“That sounds Jimin.” Princess commented, rubbing her forehead.

Vixen smiled widely.

“That’s not funny, you brat!” Lace scolded her.

“When you find your sub willingly misbehaving, you should talk to them very clearly. Usually they do it to attract attention. Ignoring them might hurt them or bring them to further misbehaviour, which can turn dangerous. I normally recommend conversation.” Lace explained. “Pay attention to them and ask why they broke the rule, what they were trying to get out of it. You can give them the punishment they were asking for — for example if your sub disobeyed because it earns them spanks and they like spanks, you can either give them spanks or punish them with something that they really don’t like, for example edging.”

Princess nodded. “That’s interesting, thank you.”

“Any remark, Vixen?”

She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about sexual spanks?” Princess questioned.

“Those can be incorporated into foreplay. Some people are simply aroused by pain.” Vixen shrugged. “It puts the sub into a vulnerable position, and it underlines a power imbalance. It makes the sub feel smaller, powerless — or almost so — and sometimes humiliated.” Vixen explained.

“Exactly. I would add that it stimulates the circulation of blood to the pelvis region, which means that skin is more sensitive, arousal increases and the whole perception intensifies. It builds trust and sometimes, according to personal history of each sub, it can send them back to childhood memories, mimicking the power imbalance between child and adult who disciplined them. It has strong disciplinary and educational value, back to the punishment scene.”

“Oh, about punishment!” Vixen exclaimed. “We forgot the most important part of it all. But it refers to all sorts of spanking, to be true. Negotiation. Once you have identified the fault, tell your sub how many hits there will be, how you will deliver them and with which instrument, which position they will have to assume. Repeat safewords. Make sure that they agree fully to every detail of the spanking. If they do not agree to some parts, ask to find a compromise, a middle ground between your and their needs. Once you have the green light, you can talk your sub through the whole experience as the scene actually develops. Once you are done with the scene, say a code phrase that means that the scene has finished.”

“Okay, me and Jimin did this stuff our first time trying this.” Princess confirmed.

“Wonderful. Was it a positive experience? Did you have any uncertainties, questions?”

“It was a very positive experience, both in mine and his opinion. We talked it out the morning after, since I preferred to have some time to elaborate my personal feelings about the scene”

“That’s okay. As a dom you can experience mixed feelings, especially after a first scene, with activities that are usually misjudged by society”. Lace explained, gently patting Princess’ hand on top of the table.

“I think that Jimin’s positive reaction and guidance helped me feeling positive about the whole scene. He was truly supportive through all of it.” Princess smiled softly.

“That’s a good partner. Both for life and for play”. Lace smiled herself, glad that Princess’ first experience went well.

“There were very deep emotions of care and support and love during the whole scene. A kind of affection and vulnerability I had never experienced with anyone else. I hope I can go there again with him, but next time I want to be more reliable and secure and experienced. I thought that a general introduction, especially about supplies, could help me, since Jimin was interested in that.”

“Okay, let’s just finish the general intro. We were saying safe, sane and consensual. Safe means toys, safewords and aftercare supplies. Sane means both parties know what they’re doing, the dom is aware of the sub’s mental space. Consensual means negotiation about number of blows, technique, position and eventually toys. Make sure that your sub always knows about the motive of the spanking. The natural response, especially to pain, is ‘why’. Make sure they know. Eventually, remind them. Once more remind them of safewords and the final sentence.”

“Do not ever stop unless they safeword.” Vixen said. “If they repeatedly tell you to stop, remind them they have their safewords if they want to. As a sub I’ve said both ‘stop’ and ‘why’ at least a hundred time during a spanking. ‘Stop’ and similar are pretty recurrent. Just say ‘You know your safeword, love’. If they really need them, they will use them, trust me. Just remind them all the time. You could maybe need to slow down, make sure that they aren’t panicking and they do actually remember their words.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lace confirmed before turning to Vixen. “Have you been studying?” She joked.

“I’ve been reading lately.” Vixen confirmed, with a very happy smile on her face.

Lace mirrored her expression. She knew Vixen had been pushed into quitting BDSM activities by her ex boyfriend. Knowing that she was finally back to something she liked, something she was comfortable with made her happy. “I’m glad you’re back on track, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” Vixen closed the small exchange with Lace.

“Once a scene is closed, your sub might have different responses. They might ask to be left alone. In that case, make sure that healing supplies are ready for their self care. Remind them to check for abrasions. If the skin is damaged on a surface level — that means it is not only bruised, but also broken — you will need disinfectant and probably band aids.” Lace explained.

“But that happens rarely, right?” Vixen asked.

“With average spanking, that is quite rare. Normally you need specific instruments specifically meant to cause abrasions.”

“Like canes and spiked toys?”

“Yes, but not only those. I’ve seen pretty heavy damage caused by an apparently regular flogger.” Lace commented, shuddering at the memory.

Vixen blinked, a bit shocked. “Okay, back to aftercare.”

“Yeah,” said Princess, exhaling and looking away.

“So, unless your sub wants you to leave, you stay around. Provide for them. Rub lotion first. Some subs store specific lotion for this kind of stuff. To ease the burn, the sting, or lessen the bruises.”

Vixen interrupted. “I must say, most of us like the bruises and the reminder-sting, so they don’t really do much about it. Still, it depends on how far you’ve gone and how the sub feels. Usually, my favourites are a cold cloth, lotion and if I went particularly far maybe a painkiller. Normally herbal lotion and muscle relaxant are an excellent solution. They’re softer and safer, especially since you never know how a sub might react to medicines. As usual, make sure that whatever you use on them is safe. Let them prepare their usual medication. Make sure you have plenty of time to ascertain that they are emotionally stable. Do not leave them alone unless they request so, and tendentially it is good etiquette to stay in proximity, in case they change their mind.”

“Thank you so much for all the head ups.” Princess said, true gratitude shining all over her face. “I feel more comfortable knowing that we followed those lines during the first time too. It’s not something absurd. Youjust really need to use your common sense.”

Vixen nodded. “Being smart sure helps, but it’s not everything. You can only truly learn it by making it a routine.”

“You mean practice?” Princess questioned.

Lace nodded. “Yes. Once you actually start practicing, you’ll immediately find out your forte and potential weaknesses. Be comfortable with those: you can ask us or look it up on the guide, or on BDSM blogs. I can send you reliable sources, if need be. I would say you can reach out to my dungeon, it is a safe and discreet environment, but I fully understand your position, and I get that you might prefer to have a private approach to this. You can eventually book personal appointments with an expert. Those normally include non-disclosure agreements and Jimin could be protected from the public eye, as far as it can go.” Lace explained. “We have had many, many clients who have requested so. It would be perfectly normal.”

Princess thought about it and nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Jimin.”

“Perfect. As you can see the key to this is communication.”

“Indeed.” Confirmed Princess.

“Now, let’s get down to the actual business.” Lace opened the bag but left all the contents inside. “Impact play can happen on different parts of the body. Vixen?” Lace called.

Vixen stood up gingerly.

“Tie your hair, doll.” Lace reminded her.

The woman fished a ribbon from her pocket and did a soft ponytail.

“Good. I’ll show you.” Lace fished out a long, silky bag from her weekender; untying the ribbon, she pushed her hand in and extracted a long stick. A cane, Princess corrected herself.

Lace didn’t pay much attention. Its purpose was that of a pointing stick at that moment. “Number one, the derrière.” Vixen turned and Lace let the wooden instrument hover over the girl’s ass. “You know what to do to hit here?”

“Find the tailbone and place your non-dominant hand over it to protect it. Alternate sides, rub between a spank and another. Hit the lower region, far from the nerves up high. Where the flesh swells, that’s where I can hit. Also the back of the thighs.”

“Excellent. That’s all.” Lace congratulated. “Other spots are the back of the legs, more precisely the back of the knees and the calves. However, knees are delicate, so you can only deliver delicate blows with a restricted selection of toys. I would not recommend it. The back of the calves also offer a limited selection of toys, but it is slightly safer to go there. Still, the surface is limited and the knees and ankles are close. The risk of missing your target is high. Since you’re a beginner I would not go there.”

Princess nodded. “What kind of toys can I use?”

“We’ll cover that later. For now let’s just run through anatomy.” Lace answered calmly. “Are you good, Vixen?”

“Yup.” The other replied.

“Perfect. Turn to your side profile.” Lace asked and Vixen quickly provided.

Lace pressed the cane in a line connecting the peaks of each of Vixen’s glutes. “From here—” she moved all the way down to her mid thighs “— to here it’s good. The peak to the midthigh.”

“Great. Got it.” Princess replied. “There are other places? Like…?”

“Would you like to talk?” Lace asked Vixen. “You're the expert.”

“May I?” She asked.

“Of course, sweetie. You’re the expert in this.”

Princess raised an eyebrow at the comment, but still she stayed focused. To say she was intrigued was a big understatement.

Vixen’s sweet voice began speaking. “Other than the backside, as we’ve just mentioned, there are other spots that can be involved in impact play. While the back of the thighs and the butt can stand harsher beatings with almost all toys intended for impact play, other areas are more sensitive, more delicate or consist in a smaller expanse of skin, therefore they shall be treated differently. Both the palms and the back of the hands, just like the soles of the feet can be involved, especially when matched with instruments with a smaller surface of beating, like a slapper, a riding crop and a cane — for example. They shall be treated lightly, since they have lots of nerve endings, bones and tendons exposed.”

“What’s a leather strap?” Princess asked.

Lace lifted a finger as a sign to wait, before digging her other hand in her bag and extracting a small device, of maybe twentyish centimetres of length and five or six of width; she placed it on the table to let Princess observe it. “Handle and slappers.” She pointed. “Very noisy, actually pretty innocuous. The leather bits slap against each other and create a single impact that sounds like a double.”

“It sounds scary, though.” Vixen noted. It always made her blood curl in her veins, the heavy smack turning into a torturous feel as the hit didn’t match the noise. Fear worked, but the sensation didn’t. It was not something she liked, usually.

Lace nodded. “I haven’t used it much. Usually people like the cane on the back of the hands. Because of old school punishments.” Lace explained.

“Right. Thanks.” Princess nodded.

Vixen waited for a sign before moving on. Once she had both women’s attention, she proceeded. ”Thighs are generally all good, if they’re fleshy and plump enough. Make sure that you don’t go too hard when hitting close to private parts. While a vulva can handle a fair bit, the penis is generally more delicate in the structure. Thighs can handle all toys, just like the ass. Paddles, slappers, straps, riding crops, whips and canes. For private parts I recommend the riding crop.” Vixen smiled politely.

Princess interrupted. “The strap is that kind of… like?” She gestured a long and thin rectangle with her hands, looking for words.

“It looks like a belt bent in two, with a handle. Maybe I have it…” She rummaged in her bag. “No. Sorry. I think I left it at home.”

Princess waved her hands. “Don’t worry, that’s okay, I think I visualised it pretty well.” She smiled. “There’s more?” Princess said, marvelled as Vixen began talking again.

“Well, yes. Oh, first a small warning — before I forget. You must absolutely stay away from the belly and the stomach. Same for the lower back.” Vixen showed the various spots on her body with precise gestures of her hands. “Too many vulnerable organs left unprotected there.” She took a small pause and then moved on.

“Some people can handle hits on their shoulders and upper back, where the internal organs are protected by the ribcage and other bone structures; however I would talk with a professional about that kind of scene since you need to flawlessly master advanced equipment — people tendentially use whips and similar, or the strap.” Vixen stopped for a second, looking at Lace as if asking whether she had anything more to ask. Lace shook her head, inviting the other woman to proceed.

“Now, about delicate parts: some people like being slapped in the face, but then again, that must be clearly stated in the negotiations. I’d say you should only use hands, but maybe I’m projecting.”

“In four years, I’ve only used and seen other use hands. Also, riding crops, but usually that’s just to direct head movements or to pat the face, rather than slapping it.”

Vixen nodded. “Great. About interesting stuff, nipples can be gently stimulated with small, very delicate pats. Riding crops are excellent for this use. Also slappers. Maybe canes in some cases.” — Lace did a so-and-so motion with her head. Vixen continued, — “Some people can go very hard on nipples and technically — just like with the butt — women who have bigger breasts can stand more intense stimulation”.

“Oh, that yes. You can use, as usual, riding crops, but also paddles, straps and whips — if you’re experienced.” Lace added.

Princess nodded with an interested expression. She could mention that to Jimin. Imagining him with a riding crop, standing at the side of the bed, rubbing the leather bit against her nipples before whipping them harshly had her losing focus for a second, taking in a big breath and biting her lip.

Vixen grinned. She could practically read the other woman’s thoughts. “For women with smaller breasts and men, I would say to stay on the more gentle side for the first few sessions and eventually — once you know each other and once you know your sub’s pain threshold — you can get more heavy-handed, so to say. As I said before female private parts can handle pretty harsh whippings, especially since arousal tends to make the labia plumper and therefore protect the skin better. Still, you should start slow and work your way up. Male crotch area is a lot more delicate, however the shaft can take a medium-intense whipping. I recommend riding crops and small leather straps.”

Lace raised her eyebrows at Vixen with a proud grin. “Nothing to add. This should be all.”

“Wow.” Princess was a bit excited. If Jimin had looked that good with a few spanks, she could only imagine what he would do once she got more experienced and learned what actually drove him crazy.

“That’s a lot of stuff, I know.” Lace reassured her.

“I’m actually excited. Like, it sounds very interesting. There’s a lot of trust and knowing each other. I really like that. I think it brings the partners very close.”

Vixen nodded. “It does.”

Princess bit her lip. “I don’t want to pry but… Do you do all of that?” She looked at Vixen with a slight blush.

The woman giggled. “Not anymore, no.” She took a meditative pause, like she was reminiscing something. It felt strange that a girl so young could feel so old every now and then. That dark cloud that obscured Vixen’s doll-like traits disappeared, leaving only a fond grin in tow. “Now I do the bits I like best.” She grinned.

Lace looked at her with a bit of worry before smiling again.

“Before we actually start with tools I need to make sure that you know all you need about aftercare and drops.” Lace said seriously.

“Yes, please.” Princess said. “May I recap what we said about aftercare?”

“Yes, sure.” Lace invited her.

“Prepare the stuff before. Check for abrasions: if there are, then disinfectant and band aids. Next cold cloth, lotion and eventually painskiller. Use medicines that my sub takes regularly. Make sure that they’re okay emotionally. If they want me to leave, I do, but I stay close.”

“Amazing. Quick learner.” Lace cheered.

“Those were also in the book.” Princess commented, diminishing her feat. “Plus I did it already. Sort of.”

“I’ve seen people take weeks to put all of that together. You did a good job, stop doubting yourself.” Lace corrected her. God, these two insecure creatures would be the death of her.

“Aftercare is not only physical, but mostly emotional. If your sub wants you close, cuddle them. Jimin looks like the type to want cuddles and reassurance afterwards. Make sure you give plenty. Would you like to explain the drop Vixen?”

“Yes, of course.” Vixen intervened before addressing Princess. “I always like to talk about this subject because it can affect anyone, without any need to get involved in BDSM. ًWhen experiencing an orgasm, our bodies produce an incredible quantity of hormones that make us literally ecstatic. What happens sometimes, especially after long or intense scenes is that our bodies get high on these hormones, experiencing a sense of withdrawal once the rush is over. Such withdrawal, so to say, can cause pretty intense sadness that can lead to numbness, indifference, or even hate and depressive or aggressive behaviours. A good way to slow down this sadness is providing the body with other hormones that usually calm us and relax us. Cuddles and sugars usually are a good way to help the body produce oxytocin — commonly named ‘the hormone of happiness’. It’s the same hormone that spikes when mothers are breastfeeding their babies.” Vixen smiled fondly.

“This is incredible.” Princess said, completely amused. “So cuddles heal both the sub and the dom, I assume.”

“I think so, yes. Usually I’m the cuddler while Joon is the cuddlee during aftercare. Both subs and doms can experience the drop since both suffer the shift in hormones. It’s really about mutual care. Usually though, there are people who suffer more.” Vixen commented.

Lace spoke shyly. “Once I went so hard on a sub that I felt awful with myself after the scene was done.” Lace said. The silence felt heavy, like in some part of her mind Lace was still seeing that scene. “Usually the dom is expected to give the sub water, sweets and a cozy blanket — water for the body fluids, sweets for rebalancing the sugars after an intense effort and the blanket for emotional safety. I remember that one time the sub used the aftercare kit on me. It took me almost an hour to get back on a neutral state of mind.” It was Lace’s turn to be comforted. As Vixen rubbed her friend’s back, Princess spoke.

“So I might experience guilt and sadness afterwards and that’s normal?”

As Lace was still thinking, Vixen spoke up. “It happens, though usually, if your partner reassures you and supports you properly, you should be able to deal with it together with quite some ease. I myself have shouted slurs at my dom in the past during punishment, but that is because pain or anger make you do that. I may have sent him into a drop once, and since that time I always make sure that I praise and cuddle my dom once the scene is over. It’s important that you remind yourself that what is said during an intense scene is due to the sub’s sensations in that moment, therefore you shouldn’t give it much importance. Still, once you have your post-session chat you have every right to say ‘that hurt me, please don’t do that again’. It’s etiquette.” Vixen said with a serious note.

Princess nodded. “So cuddles, water, sweets and a good comfort blanket.”

“Normally, yes.” Vixen replied. “Sometimes shower or bath together, wash your partner clean or have them wash you. For some people physical cleanliness is also spiritual cleanliness. It eases the mind from whatever ‘dirty thing’ you’ve done during the scene. The rest is really what you would normally do during self-care, but with your sub. Facemask? Junk food? Lotion? Massage? Tea? Whatever you like as long as you do it with affection.”

Princess nodded. “This is really helpful. I just need to do anything that Jimin likes, and do it with him.”

“Yes, if he wants you close — which I assume he does, knowing the two of you.” Vixen smiled.

Lace added her own contribution. “If possible, remember to schedule a post-session chat. Whenever it feels comfortable. Normally you wait until all parties have fully recovered before saying ‘let’s talk about it together’, but some subs are already okay talking about it during aftercare. Just make sure that you know how your sub felt about the stuff that you did together, and that you tell them how you felt yourself. This is not one-sided. Power imbalance is limited to the scene: once you’re done, You’re equal again — that’s why a final sentence is necessary. It breaks the power imbalance and repristinates equality. All parties are equally entitled to support and communication.” Lace said, making sure that Princess grasped the concept. That’s where most couples went wrong: communicating.

“Thank you girls.” Princess said gently. “Thank you for the insights, and for your personal experiences.”

“You’re welcome.” Lace said heartily before grinning. “Now, let’s discuss supplies.”

Vixen cheered with a small ‘yes’ at which Lace replied murmuring ‘painslut’, chuckling playfully.

“Let’s start with these.” Lace showed her hands, letting the sleeves of her shirt fall a little, exposing her wrists. “These are your main instruments.” She showed the palms, then the backs. “You can use them everywhere. You can use your whole palm, flat, for a sting and cupped for a thud.”

“What’s that?” Princess asked.

“Vixen.” Lace called.

“A sting is when it prickles and bites, a thud is when it reverberates and goes deeper. You go with a quick, fleeting swat when you go for a sting—the palm must be flat and there must be a bit of wrist game. To deliver a thud, you should let your hand cup slightly and hit hard, keeping your hand pressed where you hit. It’s a matter of angle and speed.” Vixen replied readily, as if she were being asked what is two and two.

Princess grinned and nodded. “I see. Jimin mentioned something about it, but I don’t remember clearly. Which one hurts the most?” Princess asked Vixen.

“Well, it depends. It’s a different kind of pain and it depends on one’s sensitivity. Personally I prefer thuds, because usually it’s the muscle taking most of the impact, in case of traditional, over-the-knee butt spankings. Stings make my eyes water a little, because it hits a smaller area of skin with more pressure. But it really depends on what your sub feels.”

“It is all in the way it is delivered.” Lace stated.

Vixen bit her lip, nodding, and moved on.

“Hands can be also used to slap the face, as we said,— that should be especially clarified during negotiation — but also nipples and genitalia. Also, thighs, calves, hands and feet — though in some cases they might be too mild. Always remember that it is good manners to try the toys on yourself first, especially if it’s a toy you’ve never used before. Get familiar with its weight and density and grip, so you know how it affects you before affecting your sub. Make sure to start slow and eventually intensify, always asking your sub if they’re okay in the first place. Be careful with your sub’s pain threshold: since you don’t have direct perception of how much you’re hurting them, try to increase force and pattern a bit at a time.” Lace explained.

Princess felt sure about the directions. Common sense and the guide told her the same things, which reassured her about the fact that she would remember all the complicated passages. Sure, it would be easier to have an actual practical exercise.

But for now she would make do.

“You ready for the next?”

“Yes.” Vixen replied.

Lace tutted. “The question was not meant for you, menace.” She said, reprimanding a grinning Vixen.

Princess cackled. “Sure.”

Lace picked up another object from her bag. “Here we have a paddle. It can have different shapes and textures. Some contain small indentations, or even spikes. The main features are the handle.” She showed the part. “And a flat surface, used to hit the sub. In terms of tenacity and resistance, mine has a hardwood interior covered in a leather exterior. Oh, and it’s branded.” She showed a red leather heart sewn onto the black leather cover. “It leaves a mark.” Lace smiled cutely. “Best used on wide, fleshy surfaces. Questions?”

Princess shook her head. “Oh, yeah. How much is it?”

Lace twisted the object in her hands. “A good one is around thirty five thousand won or so. If you want something that lasts and that is actually covered in true leather, the price might be higher. I could recommend a shop that sells excellent gear.”

“Thank you. Also, you said it comes in different shapes.”

“Yes. A dom in my dungeon has a pretty extravagant one in a cherry shape.”

“With a double sting?” Vixen asks, eyes almost glittering.

“Yup.”

“Amazing. I had spotted it once but I never bought it. Maybe I’ll have it commissioned.” She mused.

“Joon would?” Lace asked, eyebrows raised.

Vixen shrugged. “I just need to be good — or bad — enough.”

“See, darling, this is a brat.” Lace addressed Princess, pointing at the other girl in the room. “Their anatomy is five percent manners, five percent playfulness and ninety percent utterly smart evil.”

Vixen smiled before cocking her head to the side prettily. “Yes, that’s me.”

Princess bit her lip and smiled. Vixen was a lot more interesting than she thought. All those cute manners and polished looks could not entirely shade the dark magnetism of her eyes. She would pay good money to see what ruckus she could cause with Namjoon in the bedroom. And it would be even more interesting to see what poised, calm Lace could do to teach her how to behave.

Lace put her paddle down before fishing something else from inside her bag. “For tonight let’s cover only the basics. I’ll keep more lowkey devices for another time. Or maybe I could show you what I have and you ask me about what looks interesting to you.”

Princess nodded. “That would be lovely. Plus I’m sure you’ll have to get back to Joon since he’ll want to see you before they leave tomorrow.” Princess asked Vixen.

“I don’t know if I’ll see him— oh, that one looks lovely!” She said, looking at a riding crop from Lace’s collection and distracting herself with it. “Yeah, I told him he should stay at the dorms and rest. His week has been hectic with all the briefings for the press conferences and tv shows.” Vixen explained as she picked up the crop, studying the red, heart-shaped bit.

“Yeah, I figure. Jimin and I are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, before they leave.” Princess explained.

Vixen’s fleeting gaze moved away. She seemed visibly unsettled. Still, her mood changed once more as she collected Lace’s paddle from the coffee table, the other woman not even noticing one of her devices had attracted Vixen’s attention.

Vixen rolled it in her palm a couple times, shifting it to feel the weight distribution and the texture.

Princess looked at how she studied the object, carefully taking in every detail. Vixen’s perfectionism showed in that exact moment, in the undisturbed, slow way she felt every ridge and stitch with her fingers. If she could think of an adjective it was ‘thorough’, in the first place. ‘Sensual’ in the second.

Raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, Vixen opened her free hand, lifted the paddle and delivered a heavy thwack.

A shiver ran down Princess’s spine. She could almost feel how Jimin would moan after a smack like that.

Lace turned around, looking at Vixen. “Like it?”

Vixen simply nodded with a wicked smile. “Do you know what wood it is?”

“Not sure, possibly birch or cherry tree. Soft wood but very elastic.” Lace sat upright as she was done taking out all of her collection.

“And the leather is splinter-proof.” Vixen commented.

Lace hummed in confirmation. “See anything interesting, Princess?”

Princess creased her brow. “What about the riding crop?”

Vixen smiled mischievously as Lace wrapped her palm around the handle, lifting the object. “Here. This is a personal riding crop. It has been commissioned specifically for me. It’s my favourite and somehow my brand.” She smiled fondly as she studied it. “However, I would say one should never grow fond of a vulnerable thing such as a riding crop. They break fairly easily. Anyway — the general traits of a riding crop are the shaft, the handle and the tip. In terms of length, I normally recommend minimum sixty centimeters, to increase flexibility and impact strength. The shaft should be elastic, but not too much or it loses impact strength and a submissive usually doesn’t want the whoosh without the smash.”

Vixen giggled at her side.

“What is that?” Princess asked, frowning.

Opening her palm, Lace calculated the distance and whipped the leather bit hard against the soft flesh at the base of the thumb. Princess clearly recognised the sound of air whistling before she hit her skin with a thin clap. “That’s what I meant.”

Princess nodded with eager eyes, keeping an amused silence.

“Fiberglass is a good material for beginners. If you’re buying one in person — which I recommend for the first time — make sure that it can make a forty-five degree angle when you bend the tip towards the handle. A forty to fifty degrees with a fair amount of resistance means it’s flexible enough, just make sure that it’s not too close to the breaking point. The handle is normally made of leather or very good rubber to improve the grip. Some cheap riding crops — also, the ones not intended for BDSM purposes — come with a strap to slip your wrist into. I recommend you don’t use the strap or that you remove it completely because first, you shouldn’t need it and second, you should avoid everything that keeps you from interrupting the scene and comforting your sub as quickly as possible. Sometimes even a couple seconds can be very important when it comes to subdrop. Remember this at all time, in all scenes. Remove everything that could keep you from helping your sub.”

“Okay. But if my riding crop falls?”

Lace smiled darkly. “Trust me dear, you’ll hold on to that as if it were the sceptre of England.” Princess laughed. “And if it falls, it’s usually a sign of poor mastering of your tools. Train yourself. You can use a dense pillow to learn the variety of strokes that a crop can deliver. It can be used for sensation play, simply rubbing your sub’s skin, caressing it, spending some time to arouse them before the whipping starts—”

Vixen purred at that.

Princess thought of Jimin biting his plump lips, eyelids fluttering at the gentle touch of the leather tickling his body.

“Are you with me?” Lace called for Princess’ attention, an amused grin on her face. Lace almost wanted to congratulate her for staying focused for so long.

“Yeah, just — thinking.”

Lace exhaled and wore a grin on her face. “I get that. Let me just finish this and we can take a pause. The tip is the important part of the crop. Mine has a fancy, heart-shaped tip, however, the best standard ones have triangular or rectangular tips that are a couple fingers wide on the very tip and restrict around the head of the stick.”

“Sounds nice.” Princess said.

“It is.” Vixen mused. “As Lace said, riding crops aren’t excessively difficult to use, if one has the patience to learn the basics and take some time to experiment. They can offer plenty of freedom to the dom in terms of use since they can be incredibly harsh, but also extremely light and gentle. You can use them on most spanking areas: breasts and nipples, feet, thighs, ass, shoulders and genitals, both male and female. Also the face, if you’re being light-handed enough.”

“Jesus, you’re wicked.” Lace snickered.

Vixen shrugged. “Says you.”

Princess looked at the exchange quite amused. “Okay. I think I got it. Oh, isn’t that a flogger?”

“Yes, it is. But that is for your sophomore lessons. For now, let’s stick to the beginner deals.” Lace said, slowing down Princess’ enthusiasm.

“Oh.” The other answered, taken aback.

“The bigger the toy, the more difficult it is to use it. Floggers, also called multi-tailed whips, are unpredictable because the whips are really flexible, usually made of leather, and very light. You must have excellent wrist flexibility and great spatial awareness. Once you can use your crop with your eyes closed, then you can consider learning the basics of flogging.”

“Okay. I assume canes and that fancy thing over there are off-limit too.” Princess noticed.

“Isn’t that a cat-o-nine-tales?” Vixen said, wide eyed. “It’s been years since I last saw one. Since my training.” Vixen shivered. “He had silver studs on the tips.”

“Did he ever use it on you?” Lace asked, very serious.

“Once. I didn’t speak to him for a week afterwards.” Vixen said, gaze empty. “I’ve never seen one like that in my life, though. Are those flowers?”

“Yes.They have a silver bead in the middle with some petals around it. The effect is very unusual, or so I’ve been told.” Lace answered with a chuckle. “It was a gift from one of my students. Lovely girl. Kinkier than hell.” Lace smiled and took the toy. “See. Those are meant to hurt. Mark or scar even, in some cases.” She showed the appendage to Princess.

“I don’t like that.” She replied with tiny hesitance.

“The cane is also a vicious one.” Lace suggested.

“The first time I safeworded was with a cane.” Vixen said with a meditative smile. “It hurts like hell. Normally I can take around forty to fifty spanks. I couldn’t handle ten with a cane.”

“I don’t think I like that either. My favourite so far are the paddle and the riding crop. I think Jimin likes the paddle, or at least the idea of it. The riding crop is… for personal reasons.”

“Excellent choice.” Lace grabbed a glass of water and drank, easing her mouth and throat after all the talking. “A riding crop can really gratify a dom at their first experience. You can study it, if you want to.” Lace encouraged Princess to hold the toy and look at it from up close.

Princess thanked her before lifting the crop from the table. “It’s very light.”

“Indeed. It’s a lot lighter than a paddle, that’s why it’s a personal favourite to most female doms. Plus it can be used to praise and to punish, making it a tool of great versatility.”

Princess studied the handle, with a thick leather band wrapped around the stick to grant a good grip. Lace, previously standing, bent down behind Princess. “The leather has been treated so to reduce any slipping.” She corrected Princess’ grip around the handle, placing her hand wrapped tight around it and fixing her thumb. “Like this.” Next, she placed the tip on the flat of the opposite hand. “Always make sure that there are no loose stitches here. Make sure that the spot where the tip meets the stick isn’t rough or hard or juts out in a way that could cut the skin.” She fingered the spot, tracing it. “Also remember to check the flexibility, see?” Lace made Princess’ fingers wrap around that spot, making her push it towards the butt of the handle. The sensation was extremely elastic, with a bit of give still, but far more resistance. “That is good elasticity for a versatile crop. Try it on your forearm.” She suggested, pushing Princess’ shirt upwards.

A bit hesitant, Princess lifted her dominant arm up. Lace corrected her stance, repositioning her elbow. “You only need to do a slight rotation of your forearm for now. Keep your elbow still and smack your forearm down, like you were arm wrestling but with more snap.”

Princess nodded, her eyes closing before she let her arm snap. First she heard the ‘whoosh’ of the stick cut through the air, and then the snapping sound, like a dry cracking.

“Good one. Did it hurt?”

Princess tutted. “Not too bad. The bite was pleasing.”

The sound awakened Vixen from her trance. She had been staring at the paddle for a few minutes, thinking.

“Try using it feather-light now. Like it was a make-up brush on your skin.” Lace placed the tip of the crop on Princess skin with the lightest pressure, the touch so soft that the tip didn’t even bend a little to accommodate the skin. It was simply lingering, grazing.

“I really like it. I think I’d love to own one.” Princess said enthusiastically. “Would you come with me if I go buy one?” She looked up to her friend.

“Yes, sure. You have my number, we can arrange someday this week, or whenever you like it.” Lace smiled genuinely. Her cheeks puffed up in round apples.

“I think you should check on Vixen.” She whispered.

The girl was being too quiet. It meant she was thinking. Overthinking, if Lace knew her friend well.

“Are you okay?” Lace moved towards Vixen, looking at her vacant stare, her skittish mood and the insecure nibbling on her lower lip.

“Yeah, I was just thinking...” Vixen replied, still unfocused from her surroundings. “I don’t know if Princess is okay with this. It’s her home, after all.”

“What is it?” Asked the other one, immediately alarmed.

“Would it be awkward if we tried a small simulation? Not a scene, just an exercise. For practice.” Vixen proposed. “If you’re all okay with it.”

Lace studied Vixen’s expression. “What about Namjoon?”

“I could ask him. I think he’s awake, I’ll text him. Ask him if it’s okay with him. This is nothing sexual. It’s just for learning purposes.” Vixen shrugged.

A part of Princess’ brain was already seeing it happen, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I think it would be really helpful to me if you and Lace tried. I don’t think I want to do it myself, but I’d like to watch.” She admitted.

“Are you in the right mindset to do this, sweetie?” Lace asked. “You’ve been on mood swings the whole night. Are you sure?” Lace asked, seriously concerned.

“Yes, I’m sure. Trust me,” Vixen said, reassuring her friend with a kind smile. “I just need to ask Joon.”

Lace thought about it. Doing such a thing with Vixen of course could be extremely helpful to Princess, showing her how a scene worked, however Vixen’s mood swings suggested that she was looking for reassurance, that she was hoping someone would literally spank her negative thoughts out of her. She probably wanted Namjoon instead of Lace, but maybe this mechanism of simulation and education was what she needed to rein in her insecurities. Vixen was a smart woman, extremely aware of her emotions and the mechanisms to handle them. Lace decided. “Okay. Call him.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.” Vixen stood up and reached for her phone at the dining table. “Thank you”, she said to Lace before unlocking her phone and finding Namjoon’s number on her shortcuts.

“Put it on speaker.” Lace told her.

The three women waited expectantly as the ringing echoed through the small room — Lace with cold ice settling in her veins, Princess with ebullient anticipation and curiosity, Vixen with a certain emptiness in her gaze, her free hand toying with the small pendant laying between her collarbones while she rubbed the flat of her upper chest.

The ringing stopped, followed by a couple seconds of silence.

“Hello?”

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Part two here