#Once had a friend be confused why I would want to go to a anime convention

[worldofkuro]

Hi, I love your fic and this may seem really random, you don't have you write it at all, but could you please do a self-harm!reader and Alastor comforting her, or just Alastor comforting her after finding her having a mental breakdown alone. I suggest maybe when their teens cause teens often have mental breakdowns (or maybe that was just me). Thanks again if you see this <3

Ohoh, dear, trust me, I know, even adults. Thank you for loving Painted Smile, it's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts about it! I wanted to warn you, it’s not fluff, this is how Painted Smile!Alastor would react and we all know he doesn’t work like a “normal” being, he is crazy and that is why we love him, I suppose. This is Alastor’s way of saving you from yourself. So please, if you are easily shocked, don’t read it. TW: Self harm

You were in front of the mirror, in the bathroom, looking at yourself with a blade in your hand. You didn’t know when you started crying but you just wanted this pain to end. You didn’t understand when you felt this never ending torment crawl in your mind. You had loving parents, friends that were here for you and yet, sometimes you feel lonelier than ever.

You didn’t remember the first time you dug the blade in your skin. Maybe it was because you needed to feel something real, something that would ground you. To save you from drowning, you felt the need to hurt your body.

Your body could heal, your mind couldn’t.

That was what you were telling yourself. Every wound would heal itself, because your body wanted to live, wanted to keep on living while your mind was torturing you with thoughts you felt like you didn’t deserve to have.

When did this agony begin..?

You held back a sob as blood was beginning to slide down your wrist. It was pretty, making you believe you were pretty inside. You didn't want to be a burden, you didn't want people to be condescending because you were feeling sad or anxious. They would send you to a hospital and never look back.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. Even though the blade cut your skin, it wasn’t enough. You began to cut yourself once more, trying to go deeper until this torment inside your mind would stop.

“ Dearest ?”

You turned your head toward the door you were sure you had locked and there was Alastor, staring at you with his usual smile. You quickly hide your arms behind your back, your whole body shaking. 

You felt shame enveloping you in an uncomfortable hug. You opened your mouth but no words could come out. You didn’t know what was going to happen and you didn’t want to find out.

“ That’s a lot of blood. May I see?” he held his hand toward you, closing the door after him. You took a step back as he came closer, looking at the mess on the floor. You were shaking, angry with yourself to be found in that situation, angry at Alastor to discover your secret, you just felt.. angry.

“ No. Get out.. I don’t have time for jokes.” you tried to keep your voice strong even though it was only a mere whisper.

“ Who’s joking?” he took the blade from your shaking hands and stared at it before looking at you. He gently took your bloodied wrist on his hand with a soft smile. “ It’s going to scar.”

You looked at him, confused. Why wasn’t he screaming at you, calling you crazy or hysterical ? You let him look at your wounds, you felt like this moment was more intimate than you realized. 

“ Do you want to keep going?” he tilted his head toward you making your eyes widened in shock. He wanted you to continue..? “ Your cut isn’t bad but this isn’t the best way to cut yourself, my dear.”

“ You… You aren’t angry..?”

“ With you? Of course not. But I’m curious, why are you cutting yourself?” he stroked your bloodied skin while staring at you. As you weakly tried to explain your inner turmoil Alastor was observing while wiping your tears and your blood from your skin. “ I see. Let’s go kill animals, it helps me when I’m feeling down!” he beamed at you.

“ What? No! Why? They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“ So did you, dearest. And yet, you’re still hurting yourself.” he tilted his head, seeming confused. You closed your mouth at his words, it echoed inside of you, you didn't do anything wrong and yet… “ Next time you want to hurt yourself, wait for me.”

“ Why..? Shouldn’t you try to stop me?”

“ Is it going to make you stop?” he stared at you as you weakly shook your head, this pain was something that you needed now, you didn’t feel like living without it anymore.. Even your body would beg you to do it sometimes…” That’s what I thought. So, my dearest friend, when you want to cut yourself, wait for me, I’ll cut you.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. Did he really say..?

“ Alastor… You..”

“ Like I told you, I know how to cut. Your cuts are messy and dangerous, you could have touched a veins here. So, if you allow me, I’ll cut you.” he pressed the blade slightly against your skin, making you gasp. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know what to think about it and yet.. It was oddly comforting to think Alastor, your friend, your special person, would do that for you.

“ Are we crazy, Alastor?” you whispered.

“ Completely insane, dear!” he laughed as he cleaned your wounds, already preparing bandages. He hummed before kissing your cut. “ One cut, one kiss, what about it?”

You nodded as he slid the blade against your skin, it wasn’t like you were doing. The blade wasn’t cutting deeply, it was enough to draw blood, but it wasn’t as messy as you would do. Alastor was staring at your face, observing every reaction. It was comforting, letting Alastor have his way with your life. He could kill you if he made a bad cut but you knew he never would.

You were letting him hold your life in his hands and it was… a good feeling. You knew Alastor was feeling the same, his pupils were dilated, you could hear his breathing getting harder, the same as yours.

You looked at the wounds as Alastor kissed it, getting dirty with your blood.

“ I’m used to scars that are made by hate and violence, I don’t want you to feel that. So, my dear, let me scar you with my affections for you.”

You didn’t know if you should be scared or disgusted but at that moment, you felt nothing but relief. You weren’t alone in this torment anymore.

[noe-pri08]

Miguel O'Hara

Heat

Summary: Miguel is in heat

I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, English isn't my first language

You've been without seeing Miguel nearly one week, you are worried so you decide to do something. He gave a key to his house some time ago so you take it and go see him.

When you get there you look for him but don't find, you go to his room and an odd smell fills your nostrils. It's like vanilla or something similar

"Miguel?" you ask, but the only thing you hear are muffled sounds. You open the door and see his room

It is all messy, there are clothes everywhere and the smell of arousal hanging on the air. It was so strange, he has always had his room annoyingly cleaned up, he was obsessed with tidiness

"Go away" you heard him say. His under the blankets of his bed, curled up in himself

"Why? What happens?" you start walking towards him to get a better look of him

"Don't you see? I'm in heat, leave me alone please" he groans

You forrow your brows, confused "Heat? Like...animals? What do you mean?"

He lets a frustrated sigh "Kind of. Is like a biological urge, a primal instinct. You can think of this like an amplified version of lust"

Your eyes widened in realization as you finally understood. Miguel was in a sexual heat, a heightened state of desire that he couldn't resist. Suddenly, the scent in the room made sense. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Umm, okay...is there anything I can help with?" you say doubtly, not knowing what to do

Miguel's gaze locked onto yours, a mixture of desperation and longing in his eyes. His voice came out in a husky tone, filled with desire. "Yes, please. I... I need relief. The heat is unbearable."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of hesitance and a growing heat of your own. You had a deep bond with Miguel, you were just friends but the thought of helping him in this vulnerable state sparked a primal desire within you.

Cautiously, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Okay, Miguel. I'll help you," you whispered, your voice laced with a mix of care and uncertainty. "But we have to establish some ground rules. This is only to help you through your heat, and once it's over, we'll go back to being friends, alright?"

He nodded, an intense longing evident on his face. "I understand. Anything, anything you want, but help me."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your own nerves. "Alright, let's start by getting you more comfortable," you said, moving towards the tangled blankets covering him. Miguel eagerly helped you remove the layers, exposing his clothed body.

Then you started to take his clothes off, slowly and carefully. His muscular chest, defined abs amd strong arms at your sight. The sight of his muscular body sent a jolt of desire through you, fueling your own arousal. But in this moment, all that mattered was providing him the relief he desperately needed.

Miguel watched you intently, his red eyes burning with desire. His breathing grew heavier, and a low growl escaped his lips as his body responded to the touch of air on his bare skin.

Once his clothes were fully discarded, his naked body lay before you, his arousal evident and throbbing. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and arousal yourself, your gaze lingering on his well-endowed form.

He shifted on the bed, his movements filled with a primal restlessness. "Please... touch me," he pleaded, his voice raw with need.

Temptation coursed through your veins as heard his request "Wait just a moment" you say while you take your own clothes off, first your shirt and bra, then your trousers and panties, your naked body in front of him to admire.

Miguel's eyes wandered over your form, his gaze filled with hunger and appreciation. His red eyes gleamed with a mix of lust and relief, knowing that his needs would finally be met. The sight of you undressing only fueled his desire further, making his need for contact more urgent.

Reaching out to trace your fingertips along his sculpted abdomen, following the trail of soft hairs leading to his lower regions. You felt a surge of desire welling up within you as you continued to explore his body, teasingly tracing circles on his sensitive skin.

Miguel's breath hitched, a low moan escaping his lips as he arched his back, craving more. The room filled with the scent of desire and the sound of your shared breaths, intensifying the electric atmosphere between you.

You walk to the bed and climb up, ending up on him. You kiss while your hands roam over his abs and arms. You get up feeling excited, your core throbbing in anticipation.

You take Miguel's cock on your hands, touching him, you align with your center and sink down, your pussy getting filled.

Miguel's hands found their way to your waist, holding you tightly against him. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel his heated breath against your skin. The intimacy between you intensified, as your bodies connected in a primal dance of raw desire.

It was in this moment that you both lost yourselves in the fire of your shared attraction, succumbing to the overwhelming need for release. The room echoed with the passionate sounds of your entangled bodies as you found solace and relief in each other's embrace, giving in to the primal instinct that drove you both in this heated encounter.

As the intensity of your connection grew, your desire for Miguel became undeniable. You straddled him, allowing yourself to take control, as the heat in the room reached its peak. Miguel's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and anticipation, his breathing becoming ragged. The moans and sticky sounds of both bodies crashing together making the room become more intimate

You began to move faster, your hips grinding against him and made your body tremble with every thrust while he puts your tits in his mouth sucking your nipples. Miguel's hands grasped your hips tightly, urging you to go faster. The pleasure intensified, and the air brimmed with the scent of sweat and arousal.

Miguel's grip on you tightened as he met your movements with his own, the intensity building between you

With the momentum building between you and Miguel, your desire and hunger for each other only grew more fervent. You increased the pace of your movements even more, riding him with a desperate need for release. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding, the wet, rhythmic slaps ringing out in the air.

Miguel's hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your every thrust with his own. The intensity of your connection pushed you both to the brink, pleasure coursing through your veins like a wildfire.

Your moans mingled with the sound of his growls, creating a symphony of passion and urgency. As you rode him faster and harder, the sensations became overwhelming. Waves of pleasure washed over you, coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach, ready to explode into blissful release.

Driven by your shared desire, you and Miguel found solace in each other's bodies, lost in the rhythm and intensity of your union. The room became a haze of pleasure, heat, and pure ecstasy as you both raced towards that elusive moment of climax.

With one final thrust, your body tensed, a surge of pleasure coursing through you like an electric shock. You let out a moan of ecstasy as your walls clenched around Miguel, drawing out his own climax. The room seemed to blur as you both reached the peak of pleasure, your bodies trembling in unison.

Intense waves of pleasure washed over you, making your toes curl and your body shudder. You clung to Miguel, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you rode out the waves of your orgasms together.

As the aftershocks of pleasure began to subside, you collapsed into each other's arms, your bodies still entwined. Both of you were soaked in sweat, gasping for breath, and yet a sense of relief washed over you, mingled with a lingering connection and contentment.

Panting heavily, you lay tangled in each other's arms, basking in the euphoria of your shared experience. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft sounds of your breaths and the gentle rising and falling of your chests.

Miguel's fingers lovingly traced patterns along your back as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. His voice was filled with a mix of sincerity and gratitude as he whispered, "Thank you... for helping me through this, for being here for me."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you shifted to meet his gaze. "I'm glad I could be here for you, Miguel," you replied, your voice filled with a warm tenderness. "We'll get through this together."

Wrapped in each other's arms, you both drifted into a peaceful slumber, finding solace and comfort in each other's embrace.

[dantakeyoman]

Neteyam Defends You From Ao’nung and His Friends (SFW / Comfort)

Reader is a Fem! Omaticaya! Half Breed ( mom scientist got busy with a Na’vi warrior; both are now dead )

CW: Ao’nung cruel teasing and lowkey kinda evil, words like “freak” are used, Neteyam and Lo’ak got them hands, Neteyam is a cheeky lil’ shit

“Do not get me wrong, Kiri. I am loving spending this time with you. But please tell me what we are looking at,” you politely laughed, amused by Kiri’s wonderment at some wet sand.

“Don’t you see, (y/n). It is beautiful! This place is like a new world!” she beamed as she lifted her head from the shallow water, her now wet hair sticking to her face.

“This place is fascinating! Right down to the grains of sand.”

She promptly stuck her head right back under.

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile as you looked out into the distance.

She wasn’t wrong, this place really was beautiful.

The animals, the reefs, the crystal clear water. All were really a sight to behold. 

And Kiri was your friend, anyways. So as long as she was happy, you were happy.

If only some of the Metkayina felt the same way.

“Look at them! They are just staring at sand,” Rotxo laughed, the sound of slow-moving water coming closer and closer.

Speak of the demon.

Kiri carefully lifted her head from the water once again, giving the group of boys above a perplexed look.

“What’d you say?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“Are you two some kind of....freaks?” Ao’nung asked slowly, earning a couple laughs from his friends behind him.

Kiri scoffed as she stood up, slightly hurt by the comment. “No.”

“Leave us alone, Ao’nung,” you growled, aggressively standing up and coming at eye level with with the boy.

He had been giving you, Kiri, and Lo’ak constant shit since the moment you got there.

So to say that you weren’t his biggest fan would be a vast understatement.

“Are you sure? I mean...look at her,” he laughed, walking around you to get to Kiri, grabbing her hand and holding it up roughly. “You have demon blood. You are aliens.”

Kiri winced in pain at his grip, and you glared, quickly shoving the boy away from your friend.

Ao’nung’s friends hissed, closing you into a circle and waiting for his word to pounce.

“You do not touch her! And she is not a freak,” you spat, your tail swishing in anger.

He could talk all he wanted, but you do not lay hands on someone as close to you as Kiri.

“(y/n), let’s just go. They’re not worth it,” Kiri huffed, trying to find a gap between the boys so she could drag you out.

“Do not think you are safe, either,” Ao’nung shot a quick nod to his friends, all of them suddenly grabbing you.

“Au! Let go of me!” you shouted, thrashing in their hold as they tried their best to hold you still.

“(y/n)!” Kiri exclaimed, trying to push past the circle to get to you, but one of the boys shoved her to the ground, hard.

“Look at your feet,” he laughed, grabbing your ankle and holding it up.

“Five toes? You have just as much demon blood as she does.”

You hissed, swinging over your other foot to kick him in the face, knocking him to the ground.

“(y/n)!” Kiri gasped, eyes wide. 

That was the Olo’eyktan’s son. They were going to be in deep shit for this.

The boy’s that held you tightened their grip, now thrashing you.

They were grabbing so hard, your skin was beginning to bruise.

Ao’nung got up with a scowl on his face, all of his anger aimed directly at you.

“Why you little-!” “Let go of her! a familiar voice ordered darkly, angry footsteps getting louder and louder.

You turned to your left to see an angry Neteyam stalking towards Ao’nung, absolutely livid.

Oh, shit.

You had only seen Neteyam this mad a few times before.

Where his nose was slightly scrunched, his eyebrows creased, and his expression stone cold.

You knew he’d hate it if you said this to him, but he looked a lot like his dad.

“Oh, look. Another freak!” Ao’nung chuckled with a smirk, not taking the boy seriously.

“You heard me. Put her down, now.” Neteyam snarled, getting into Ao’nung’s face without hesitation.

For a quick moment, you could see a flicker of fear flash in Ao’nung’s eyes.

Sure, he had the upper body strength over Neteyam, but no training once soever in how to use it.

Neteyam, on the other hand, had sparred with his brother and father just for situations just like this. 

And his dad was Toruk Makto anyway so...

Ao’nung nodded to the boys that held you, all of them dropping you face first in the sand. 

Fuck.

Neteyam hissed at Ao’nung, giving him a firm shove.

“I said put! Not drop!” 

“You need some help, bro?” Lo’ak casually walked over, noticing the commotion from not so far away.

To be honest, it was making all the adults in the reef stare.

“I have this handled,” Neteyam glared at the Metkayinan boy, before turning to the rest of his friends.

“This is for all of you. If any of you lays a hand on (y/n) or my sister, you will have to answer to me.”

“And me,” Lo’ak chimed seriously, cracking his knuckles in his fist.

You lifted your face from the sand, your face covered with it, and your nose dripping in a little blood.

You had heard everything.

And were incredibly flatter that they were going through so much, just because of this one instance.

“Oh, really?” Ao’nung mused, slowly walking over to you, who was laying down on the ground, stomach facing up.

“So what would you do if I did...this?”

And just like that, he landed a swift and hard kick to the side of your rib.

You let out a pained gasp and clutched your side, curling into yourself to protect in case he tried again.

“ILEY!” Neteyam let out a battle cry, sucker punching Ao’nung in the face before tackling him to the ground.

“Alright!” Lo’ak smiled, jumping into the fight by punching two of Ao’nung’s friends.

As their battle raged on, Kiri ran over to you, carefully pulling you away from the action.

“For Eywa’s sake! Are you okay?!” Kiri frantically asked, concerned.

Now that you were finally starting to regulate your breathing, you were able to speak again.

You would have to thank Tsireya for the breathing lessons.

“I am okay, Kiri,” you assured her, trying your best to sit up. But it only shot more pain through your rib.

You hissed, and she carefully pushed you back down, resting your head in her lap.

“No way. You are in no condition to sit up.”

You sighed, seeing your only option was to watch the fight.

You turned your head to the boys, only to see that the fight was already coming to a close.

The Metkayina boys were slowly starting to run away, one by one, until finally, Ao’nung tucked his tail between his legs and swam back to the village.

Leaving Neteyam and Lo’ak standing victorious, a little bruised, but otherwise okay.

In a fight that was 4 - 2, those boys had lost.

Shameful.

Now that that was done, Neteyam turned his attention to you, and quickly jogged over.

“Is she alright, Kiri?” he asked, worry lacing his tone. 

“Peachy keen,” you said sarcastically, a phrase Norm had taught you back when you lived with the Omaticayans.

“It looks like her rib his bruised, but nothing too serious. She might need help walking, though,” Kiri answered, looking down at you with a sigh.

Neteyam nodded, not hesitating to scoop you up in his arms and carry you, bridal style.

“I’m taking her back to mom so she can patch her up,” he let his two siblings know.

“Alright. We’re righhhht behind you,” Lo’ak knowingly smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at his older brother.

Neteyam sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes at his brother’s antics before starting off.

“That was really cool. What you did for me. Thank you,” you weakly smiled up at him, the sight nearly breaking his heart.

You perfect face was littered with sand, blood, and bruises.

Yet somehow, you still seemed to look gorgeous...no, beautiful under the growing moonlight.

“There is no need to thank. I simply did the right thing,” he played off with a smile, looking off into the distance so you wouldn’t catch him staring.

You slowly lifted your hand, cupping his cheek and turning his to face you, a dark blue hue rising onto his cheeks.

He had a split lip, and a little bit of blood on his ear, the split lip making him look even more handsome ( if that was possible ). 

But other than that, he was pretty much unharmed.

“You did something you didn’t have to do. And I’m thanking you for it,” you gave him a playful poke in the cheek.

“Now accept it.”

He chuckled at your childishness, looking down at your honey eyes with nothing but admiration behind his. 

“What will you do if I don’t?” he smirked, obviously egging you on.

You accepted the challenge, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a rough kiss.

He went wide eyed. the kiss taking him completely by surprise, but he returned it anyway, his grip on your thigh tightening ever so slightly.

You swiped your tongue over his lip, him quickly adjusting his grip on you to one hand so he could tuck a hand in your hair.

You kissed like this for a few more seconds, a couple of intermittent “ews” and “wrap it ups” coming from the brother and sister not too far behind you two. 

As you separated, stupid smiled graces each of your faces.

“Do you accept it now?” you asked with a smirk, cocking an eyebrow.

“I think I still need a little more encouragement,” he smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

You laughed, using your hand to smush his lips way as you approached the village, a furious Jake shouting at Ao’nung on the docks.

[iloveavatar]

a mothers instinct

neteyam x fem! reader

this is when the reader and neteyam are kids! also this is just something short (hopefully people are ok with that)

neteyam was always a wonderful kid.

the type of kid to always be happy about anything and everything.

neytiri never had an issue with her eldest. he has always laughing at something she did or something jake said that he found absolutely hilarious.

neytiri soon realized that neteyam was curious about the forest animals.

how they grew, what they looked like, how they responded to na’vi, etc.

he asked her if they could look for a specific type of thing in the forest. except neytiri had an issue… seeing as the one thing he wanted to go find was in fact not an animal.

he wanted to find another na’vi.

neytiri tried explaining to him that the na’vi children weren’t just hiding in the forest.

but neteyam insisted they go look.

he wanted to find another na’vi.

one by the name of y/n.

neytiri was quite confused as to who y/n was. however she still followed her eldest child deep into the forest where he was leading her.

they soon stopped at a small tree.

the tree was slightly glowing, the leaves were different shades of green and blue. the height of the plant was just tall enough where the top reached neytiris waist.

neteyams little tail was flickering back and forth in anticipation. his eyes darting around with hope of seeing his new friend.

“neteyam why have we stopped? there’s nothing here honey?” neytiri questioned with a confused look on her face.

“this is where y/n told me to meet her! she’s super pretty, just wait mom!” he excitedly said, slightly bouncing with joy.

neytiri decided to try and listen for any footsteps approaching. she heard a small stick break near the two of them.

her ears twitched at the sound.

she slowly got into a defensive position to protect her son.

however she couldn’t protect her son, seeing as neteyam was running away from her arms towards the sound.

“neteyam!” she whispered-yelled

“mama! mama! it’s y/n i see her!” he yelled with a smile on his little face.

neytiri followed her son to where she spotted another young na’vi.

however the young little girl was sniffling.

“y/n? are you ok? why are you sad?” neteyam worriedly asked. he ran around her to get a good look at her face properly.

“…neteyam? i thought you didn’t come?” she asked with tears in her big round eyes.

“what? of course i would come! why wouldn’t i?” he asked

“you weren’t at the tree… and i-i thought you forgot about me so i went to leave. b-but then i tripped and now my foot hurts.” she explains showing him how her ankle was swollen.

neytiri stepped around to face to pair.

y/n gasped.

“y-you’re neytiri! you fought against the scary sky people!” y/n said astonished. her jaw was dropped.

neytiri chuckled at the girls expression. she soon stopped laughing once she saw the damage her little foot had taken. her ankle was quite swollen.

neytiri had her mother instincts kick in and squatted down to get a proper look at the ankle.

“mom? what should we do about her foot? is she gonna be ok?” neteyam questioned nervously, seeing as he was anxious about his friends injury.

“she will be once we get her to your grandmother.” she said with a small smile on her face.

neytiri then picked up y/n and placed her on her back.

“let’s go get your foot fixed up so you two can play yeah?” she asked as she started to walk home.

neteyam led the way all the way back to his grandmothers tent.

the entire walk back to the village(?) neteyam and y/n ranted about all of the things they want to do. they talked about how they were going to swim, find different plants, eventually ride ikrans, all the way to what they wanted to become when they were older.

neytiri listened to the two of them with a smile on her face.

she was glad neteyam found a friend.

especially one who was as adventurous as him.

neytiri over the years witnessed how neteyam and y/n became closer than ever to one another.

neytiri realized the longing looks the two would send each other. the worry that they had whenever the other would go somewhere. the smiles they would send each other.

she noticed it all.

she even noticed the love in their eyes as they grew older and wiser.

her mother instincts were always right.

and a mother always knows best.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

enjoy guys! i’m so sorry i’m always slow with posting.

please send requests!!

~S!

[briefalpacashark]

~Darkest fear~

The boys of 141 find out your darkest fear.

Warning: Swearing and mentions of needles.

================================================

How well did you fit in with the boys of 141. Too well. From day one you and Soap instantly connected. Price called you Soap 2.0. Why? Because your sarcasm and wit had you and Soap bantering for hours on end. Everything you two would say would just feed and complement the others. And God help whoever you were making fun of that day. One time Gaz had to endure two hours of back and forth. You had worked with Price before, and you were already close. Gaz you become quick friends with. And Ghost, well although slightly intimidated by the giant you came to respect one another, and the specialist abilities you both held. 

After all, you were respectful and kind. You always wore a smile and they would never admit it but to them you were like a little ball of sunshine. Or like a cute little puppy.

One day, about two days before your next mission you walked into base. Into the shared common area. To your surprise you found Gaz, Soap, and Ghost all standing around the far side of the table.

“What's going on?” you asked. Hearing the door shut behind you. You glanced back to see Price locking it and then placing his body in between you and the exit.

“You alright captain?” you asked hesitantly seeing his nervous look. 

“Damn cap, you look like you're trying to shit a brick,” Soap commented with a bemused chuckle. He wore a smirk that showed he was far too happy to be there.

“She can't be that bad,” Gaz shrugged, gesturing to you.

“What am I bad at?” You asked with a confused chuckle.

“Alright love. Now I want you to be calm,” Price raised his hands like he was talking to an injured animal. Love, it was a nickname all the british lads used. 

“Calm, what you on abou-” Your words trailed off as you spotted the syringe in his hand. It was a shot. A vaccination of some kind. Instantly you scooted away from him moving around the table. Your blood ran cold as adrenaline filled your every being. You were scared of needles. Scared to the point where you would do anything to keep away from them.

“The fuck is that cap?” You asked lowly.

“Wait, you're really scared of needles?” Soap chuckled at your reactions as you hide yourself behind him.

“Love, come on now,” Price was really trying his best.

“Price, I told you. I fucken told you. You drug the fuck out of me and then that's when you give me the fucking shot,” You had a plan, one Price knew about and had done before for quite a few of your shots. You would take a sedative and that's when they would stick you. Was it ethical, no in the slightest. but it was the only way of giving you a shot without anyone getting hurt.

“I know, but this one needs to be taken when you're conscious. Something bout side effects or what not,” he explained calmly.

“I told you how I get cap,” you mumbled, pointing an accusing finger at him as you shifted from side to side.

“I know, that's why I got the lads here,” he said, nodding to them. You looked at the three that surrounded you with betrayal.

“You're in on this?” You asked. “Come on lass, it's just a little needle,” Soap smirked loving the ammo he was receiving to tease you later with. "I thought you Australians were supposed to have nerves of steel?" he joked.

“I don't think you guys understand the severity of this. I turn feral ok. I once almost bit a doctor's finger off, ok,” You admitted honestly.

“Almost?” Ghost asked.

“It doesn't matter. Cap you can't do this alright. Let's just do it tomorrow yeah?” You said as you went to slip out of the little corral they had you in only for Gaz to hold up his hand to stop you.

“Grab her,” Price gave the order. 

“Eat a dick Price!” You snapped. Gaz was the first to reach for you. With a cocky and bemused smirk, he went to grab you. A cocky smirk that was slammed against the table. Everyone's eyes went wide at the movement. You had ducked under his hand taking ahold of it and grabbed his neck slamming his face onto the table. It was a reaction; one you had no control over. 

“Oh my god, I'm sorry,” You rushed out the words shocked at your own actions. Soap was the next one to reach for you, well more like tackle. You crouched sliding to your left through Ghost's legs.

------ 

A few other soldiers on the base stared in confusion at the barrack building. What sounded like a bar fight was happening inside. The sounds of breaking furniture and shattering plates filled the air. 

There was a shocking amount of swearing and a few choice sentences before you slammed through the window. Shattering it upon impact and landing from the three story building in a tuck and roll.

And then you legged it. Like the devil himself was on your heels. There was another commotion before the three men stumbled out of the room, Pierce with a busted nose, Gaz holding his head, Ghost dusting the remnants of a broken glass of his shoulder and Soap still laying on the floor inside curled up in the fetal position. His hands clutching his family jewels. 

“How the fucks did she do that?” Price muttered in confusion as they watched your disappearing figure.

The boys in all their wisdom beside to treat giving you the shot like a mission. On the thoroughly planned and scoped out before enacting. Little did they know it would be one of their hardest missions yet. They tried to administer the shot 29 times. Every time they would come up with a different plan. They had tried everything, bribery, outsmarting you, trapping you. None of it worked, you always managed to get away.

“Macgyver!” You bloody froze as you heard your call sign. At that very moment you sat perched up in the very high corner of an aircraft hangar. Had you scaled the walls to get there, yes, was it your greatest idea, no. But you weren't thinking logically. You knew it was stupid how frightened you got but you just weren't able to control it.

“We know you're here,” they called again. You peeked around the large beam spotting only Ghost in the entrance. Instantly you looked for the others. Were they trying to trap you again? 

“Come on Sargent,” He was your Lieutenant. You should have listened to him. But you kept your mouth shut happily perched in your little hidey hole. 

“It's fine. Just so you know Gaz it hurt. Idiot sprained his ankle running afta ya,” He informed. Instantly you felt guilty, and a little worried for your teammate. You wanted to get down and help, but you also knew the possibility of it being a trap. Ghost waited a few moments before cursing under his breath. He began to search the hanger. Under every trap inside every plane. Around every corner. He looked like he was about to give up. Then out of sheer luck for him, and anything but luck for you he looked up. Instantly the two of you made eye contact. He stared for a moment truly grasping the situation, trying to forget about how exactly you got up there. 

“The fuck you doing up there?” his gruff voice asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Thought it looked like a comfortable place to sit,” you shrugged nonchalantly. Ghost took in the awkward sit/balanced crouch you had going on.

“Oh yeah, it looks real comfortable,” he said.

“Well I am,” you stated.

“Right, well come on now, fun's over,” he nodded for you to come down.

“Respectfully sir. Suck a dick” Ghost propped an eyebrow at the insult. With your apologetic expression he knew you didn't mean it, but he had to admit. It was refreshing to see someone who was willing to insult him. “Fine, well it's either you get down yourself or I come get you,” he gave you the ultimatum.

“You're right, Let my just give up now and come down. Just like you said,'' You pretended to get ready to descale the walls.

“Thankyou,” Ghost was actually genuinely thankful. He thought by some miracle you were actually going to listen to him. 

“Yeah you know just let me,” Quickly snapping back to your original position you flipped him off. He stared for a few bewildered moments.

“That's just childish,” he said.

“You're a child,” you snapped back.

“Right,” Ghost huffed, walking up to the beams. You watched him as he struggled to scale the walls. After all he was a big man, he was carrying a lot of weight. As he finally reached the beam you were on he turned to look at you. Only you weren't there. He frowned looking down to see you sliding down a beam and hitting the ground. 

“Fuck,” he quickly did the same. Hearing the thunderous footsteps of Ghost feet would be encouragement enough for anyone to run for their lives. To you it was a reminder that you not only insulted your lieutenant but you flipped him off and called him a child. You had just made it outside of the hanger. 

Now you were fast, the fastest on the team when it came to running. You could have outrun him. Only when you stepped out into the open did you feel a sharp pain hit your left ass cheek. 

“Fucking Ass!” you came to a small hopping stop as you looked for the culprit. A little red feathered dart had been plugged into the soft tissue of your ass. 

“Did you just shoot a dart at my ass!” Your bewildered and angry yell was directed to the general direction of where it had come from. Price sat on the roof of a nearby building, dart gun in hand, Gaz by his side with a pair of binoculars.

“Direct hit,” GAz announced.

“She's pissed,” Soap commented as they watched your little tantrum. 

Later that night you stood outside on your little makeshift patio area. You hand rubbing the still stinging spot on your ass with a permanent frown. Hearing the door open you snapped your head around to glare. Ghost silently walked out and stood beside you.

“Using Gaz was a low blow,” you grumbled. Ghost silently looked over you, your cute little frown. It reminded him of a toddler that wasn't allowed to have chocolate. 

“Then what do you call kicking Johnny in the balls?” he asked.

“Tactical,” you grumbled. You were surprised to hear the softest huff of a chuckle come from Ghost. It was times like these you wish you could see his expression. But you were sure you saw the side of his mask where the edge of a smile would be, tilt upwards. The idea of Ghost smiling had you chuckling.

“What's so funny?” he asked.

“All this, I'm a medic you think I'd be comfortable with needles,” you chuckled.

“That ain’t funny. Soap getting kicked in the balls. That's funny. Fucker deserved it,” Ghost said. You chuckled again. Ghost glanced over at you, he liked your laugh. It was always a true honest one.

“Well I guess I should apologize about the disrespect I've shown today,” With a deep sigh you stood at attention. “I apologize for the disrespect I showed and not listening to orders,” You said with an embarrassed smile.

“So what will be the punishment, Lieutenant?” You asked. This was the first time you had done anything wrong with the boys. While they seemed ok with it, you were used to the military hierarchy. You had insulted a higher ranking officer once. It didn't go so well. You expected Ghost to be no different.

“Not gonna punish you,” he shrugged. You let out a relieved sigh closing your eyes. “But,” when you opened them again, Ghost was standing directly in front of you. On instinct you stepped back, hitting the pole you had been leaning on. Ghost closed the distance. You swallowed as he stepped close enough for you to feel his body heat, your neck craned back to make eye contact with him. 

“Don't ever call me a child again,” he stated his voice dropping into a serious tone. You quickly nodded with an awkward chuckle. It was meant to be intimidating, Ghost had used his size to intimidate before. While you were intimidated there was one thing that kept your attention. You could have sworn you could see a smirk under that mask. 

“Um, yeah sure,” You muttered. Leaning down he hovered his head by your ear, his hot breath faint through the mask but you could still feel it. You felt your heart jump. skip a beat and then rattle the back of your throat. Why was he so close?

“I promise you love I'm no kid,” he whispered. You were barely able to frown at his comment when something pricked your thigh. 

“The fuck was that?” you asked at the small amount of pain giving Ghost’s chest a soft shove. He stepped back holding his hand up that held an empty syringe.

“You bastard,” you whispered. Now you were sure he was smirking. You could see it in his eyes.

“Price thought it best not to tell you about the second shot,” he shrugged nonchalantly. Wow, so he basically just gave you a mini heart attack just to give you a shot.

“Next time I need to take blood from you I'm gonna miss your veins so many times,” you threatened half heartedly.

“Good thing I'm not scared of needles,” he said, his eyes shining smugly.

“You..” You glared at the tease. He simply turned towards the door. 

“Fuckers,” you grumbled as you watched him walk back into the barracks.

================================================

--COD Master List Here--

================================================

[euaphoric]

AFTERGLOW

✩‧₊˚ pairing — roommate!jk x f!reader

✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, sm*t, v small mention of “sl-tshaming” (not from jk tho), jk is WHIPPED, overst*m, multiple organisms, f*ngering, eating out, spanky spanky

you & jungkook have a heart to heart conversation expressing your dating troubles but end up realizing you might actually be perfect for each other instead.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“it’s like…everyone’s so fucking boring nowadays.” jungkook rambles on as he takes another sip of his wine. “i just can’t find the right one that matches my vibe.”

you nod, “i feel. literally every guy i talk to is lame as hell, they always rather stay in and watch movies than go on an actual date, which is fine sometimes…but all the time? hard pass.”

it’s 2 am on a saturday night and neither of you had anything to do, you proposed going out clubbing but jungkook wasn’t in the mood for that kinda night. he was more of a laid-back, chill type of guy while you were always out late partying and coming home with a new guy every weekend. it’s not like jungkook didn’t have girls (or guys) over either, he was just more discreet about it and made sure you were gone whenever he brought anyone over. he felt like he wouldn’t be able to face you again if you ever heard what he was doing.

“that’s ‘cause they’re just trying to fuck, oldest trick in the book y/n.” jungkook chuckles as you lightly smack his arm. “what— it’s the truth! any guy would wanna get in your pants.”

well, maybe that explains why you’re always getting texts at 2-3 am asking to “come chill” even though you know how it’s going to end and you fall for it every. single. time. maybe that’s why your last hookup called you “for the team” to all his friends, you fucked on the first “date” but only because he showed you cute pics of animals he rescued (curse you for being such a softie). but generally, it didn’t take much for you to want to sleep with someone because you had sexual needs just like everyone else, except you were a girl and that wasn’t very “ladylike” of you. that didn’t stop you from actively seeking potential sex partners though.

“ugh, don’t say that! i’m just more of a lowkey person..i don’t mind netflix dates but damn, ya girl could really use some wining and dining once in a while.” you express frustratedly. it’s been a while since you’ve been taken somewhere nice and the thought of someone planning a cute outing together made you yearn for a relationship even more.

jungkook’s brows lift in confusion, “do i not already do that for you every day?”

he’s constantly cooking for you, soon as you wake up breakfast is made with your favorite—pancakes and fluffy scrambled eggs! he’d also cook you dinner once you got home from an exhausting day of work, he was the perfect roommate you could’ve ever stumbled upon.

“you do— but that’s different..” your voice trails off, thinking of any excuse as to why but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

“how? am i only your maid that cooks and cleans for you? not worthy of anything else?” he pouts dramatically, of course he’d get offended by something so little.

“koo don’t do this right now, you know i appreciate you and your sweet gestures all the time.” sighing as you sink further into the couch, you decide to spill more about your not so eventful sex life. “it seems like most guys only care about getting their nut then dipping, i barely finish if it at all after.” you realize how embarrassing that sounds to admit but you had to confess this to someone, you don’t even know why you continue to torment yourself with this kind of treatment.

jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, appalled at the sad truth of your current dilemma. he too however, faced a similar issue at hand. he can’t seem to find a girl that’ll keep up with his crazy high sex drive. “that sounds truly awful, what the fuck? i’d have you on orgasm number five just from my fingers alone.”

holy shit, did he really just say that? the wine is most definitely getting to him now. the room got real quiet for a second.

“y-you would?” you ask innocently, batting your lashes at him.

he wanted to retract his statements out of embarrassment but you didn’t look put off by his advances at all, instead intrigued. his cheeks turned rosier, very unexpected of you to put him on the spot like that but he was the one who opened pandora’s box to begin with. “i mean… yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he replied, biting his lip as he gauges your reaction to see if what he said was okay. “i’m more of a giver than receiver anyway, i love giving head it’s my specialty. i’ll leave you with that afterglow if you let me babe.”

well now you were going to have to find out, you can’t just let him make such bold claims like that without having the proof to back it up first. you’ve always found your roommate extremely hot but you never tried anything out of respect for his boundaries, he did the same but his urges to make a move on you kept growing as you complained more and more about your past experiences—he wanted to show you how it was really done.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

jungkook was determined in making sure you have a great time. your pretty body splayed under him with your backside facing upward, giving him the view of a lifetime. “fuck…” he curses under his breath, his long tatted digits sinking into your dripping core, greedily taking all of him in. you muffle the sounds of your moans by covering your mouth, you had a habit of doing so since you didn’t want to wake jungkook whenever he was sleeping while you were getting it on.

“c’mon you don’t gotta be shy babe, be as loud as you want with me.” he husks, giving a spank to your left cheek leaving a visibly red handprint. hands sliding up the curves of your body, caressing you as he pumps his fingers deeper. “mmh.. fuck— koo keep going.” whimpering out pathetically as walls clench around him. he adds another digit to the mix, watching them disappear in your cunt while looking at your perfectly round, plump ass. never in a million years would he think he’d be doing this to his roommate of all people.

you felt a knot tying in your stomach from the pleasure, grabbing onto the leather couch tightly—feeling yourself getting close already. “sound so pretty when you moan, don’t stop.” he encourages sweetly, “i’m making you feel good aren’t i?” sounded more like a statement rather than a question.

“y-yes, think i’m gonna cu— oh fuck!” eyes roll to the back of your head as feel yourself come undone on jungkook’s fingers, creaming all over them as he continues fingering you, thumb swiping harshly over your clit to help ride out your high. the overstimulation was too much to handle for you, bratty whines escaping your lips as you just couldn’t take anymore. “on your back now.” he orders, producing another spank to your rear, you squeal from the contact but get up and lye on your back as he told you to do.

“open.” jungkook groans impatiently for you, slipping his fingers coated with your milky essence. you suck them off one by one, getting a taste of yourself while looking directly in his eyes. god…you were going to be the death of him.

“mmm..so fuckin’ hot babe.” he smirks, planting a soft kiss to your lips to get a taste on your tongue. he needed to have more of you. kissing down your chin, neck, collarbone, chest, all the day down to your navel—faint blotches of red appear on the bruised skin; creating a beautiful masterpiece on your body. more kisses are pressed into your soaked inner thighs, trailing his lips up to your entrance as he licks his lips before he begins feasting. “don’t hold back on me baby, be as rough as you want.” he coos, lowering his head to flatten his tongue, licking a long slow stripe against your throbbing slit.

“shit!” you almost cry from how good he feels against you already, bucking your hips into his mouth as he sucks on your puffy bundle of nerves. eyes looking up at you fiercely while he watches you shake and writhe under him. “so good, so goood. just like that, don’t stop please!” you continued grinding your core on his face, making a leaky mess all over him. he could care less though, he’ll happily drown in your juices any day.

his fingers return back inside for extra stimulation but you end up crying out more, the feeling has your head spinning intensely. you don’t know how much more you can possibly take but you firmly pull on his hair for leverage, tightly tugging it not caring if it hurts since he said not to hold back. his free hand caresses your thigh gently, flicking his tongue rapidly on your clit and lapping up your wetness, you taste like a dream.

“oh my god…” you mewl slightly above a whisper, you suddenly forgot how to use your voice. his mouth was making you feel more than amazing, better than anything you’ve felt before. you feel bad for all the guys you fucked in the past because they definitely won’t be getting a call back from you now.

“taste so sweet angel,” he mutters before shortly going back to what he was doing, “mmmm…” he hums against you and the vibrations leave you shuddering. another orgasm erupts out of you as you scream his name louder, spasming and shaking under his touch. this time your release squirts out onto his tongue, licking up every drop, even the left over excess on your thighs.

he presses a kiss to your abused clit, lightly dragging a finger over it to rub in circles, making it swell up again. “p-please koo, no more… n-no more.” you whine again and again but he just pretends not to hear you. he’s not going to stop until he’s completely satisfied with the end result. the end result being you looking a total fucked-out mess. “shut up. stop talking.” his eyes give you a menacing glare. you don’t utter another word, you wouldn’t dare test him right now.

he slings your leg over his shoulder and pushes you in closer, teasing your sensitive entrance while curling his fingers inside, he could do this all day if you’d let him. your breath shortens, digging your nails deeper into his skin from the bliss you feel— you were overly sensitive and felt another one nearing your way. he wasn’t even using his tongue on you anymore, he was just so good with his fingers alone it was enough to have you squirting all over him.

and you did just that, again. “that’s right baby, cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” he praises, feeling the tightness of you wrap around him. your body was so numb. panting, moaning, vision getting blurry as you coat his inked digits with your cream for the third time in a row. he pulls them out slowly, letting you drip all over the couch, chuckling with endearment of you. it almost didn’t feel real with the way he was making you cum so easily for him. he had a natural talent at this it seems. you felt weightless, as light as air in his touch, a radiant beam of ecstasy lingers within you.

“that was…incredible.” you gush, ruffling his already disheveled hair, “i haven’t felt like this in a really long time.”

jungkook kept smirking; boy you were in for so much more tonight. “mm..relax gorgeous, ’m not even close to being done with you just yet. gonna have everyone know who’s my name once we’re finished.”

@genkima @sweet-sourhotcoco ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[perfectly-imperfect82]

Is that a kid? - Name

"Where's the munchkin?" Alana asked as soon as the door opened, Macca pushing pass Caitlin with Jordan right behind her

"In the living room" caitlin said following her friends there

Katie had you by your feet upside down as you giggled, you being gently dropped on to the couch once Katie saw the others

"Kiddo, want to meet some of our friends?" Katie asked, getting a nod in return as you sat on the couch with everyone joining you

"I'm aunty Alana"

"I'm aunty macca"

"Jordan" said with a wave

"Aunty Jordan" Katie said causing Jordan to smile widely as you waved back before climbing down from the couch to start playing with you stuff animals

"The girls went overboard with gifts for her" Caitlin said with a smile as they watched you play

“Munchkin, can I join you?” Macca asked, climbing down to the floor next to you. You nodding and handing her a stuff animal

"You never said, what's the muckins name?" Macca asked causing caitlin and Katie to share a look

"No clue" Caitlin said

"Have you really been calling her kid all week?" Alana asked shocked

"I don't see a problem with it" Katie said with smirk as Caitlin hit her

"There police can't match her to any missing kids or caseworkers so we don't have a name. We were hoping she would eventually say it" Caitlin defended

"And I'm not calling her Jane, for Jane doe" Katie said

"We need to figure out a name for her" Alana said

"We say random names and see if she answers" Jordan said

"She's not a pet!" Katie exclaimed

"Do you have a better plan?" Macca asked

"Fine" Caitlin said

"I'll start! Makenzie" Macca said hopefully, only to get no reaction

"Alana"

"Jordan"

As Katie and Caitlin just laughed as the hope left all there eyes from not sharing a name with you

"It was worth a shot" Macca said

"Now what"

"There's more names besides your guys" Katie said

"Sam"

"Bethany"

"Ashely"

"Leah"

"Emily" Jordan said and you turned around, all the girls eyes widening

"Could be a coincidence" Katie said as you turned back to your toys

"One way to find out" Macca said, "Emily" and once again you turned around

"Emily, is that your name?" Caitlin asked  causing you to smile

"Holy shit, it worked!"  Alanna said causing Caitlin to hit her

"Just because she isn't speaking now doesn't mean she won't repeat them later" Caitlin said

"Later problem, we got a name!" Katie exclaimed picking you up and kissing you check as Caitlin placed a kiss to your head, causing you to giggle

"I've got gifts to get my niece" Alana said looking things with Emily on it or E as Jordan and macca moved to the floor to play with you

"Whats her last name?" Alanna asked causing Caitlin and Katie to look at each other

"You can pick her middle name if foord goes first"  Caitlin said with a smirk

"In your dreams, McCabe is going first"

———————————————

You were sitting on the sideline bundled up, playing with your toys as the girls practiced. The girls smiling when you would clap for them when you thought they did something good

“Why do you guys keep saying your last name?” Viv asked confused after hearing it multiple times

"We can't decide whose last name to go first for the kiddo" Katie said

“Flip a coin” Jen said

“We aren’t flipping a corn to decide which name goes first” Caitlin said

"Why not let her decide?" Kyra asked causing them all to look confused

"She isn't going to understand what we are asking her to do" Caitlin said

"Doesn't mean she can't decide" Kyra said with a shrug

"How will she decide then?" Katie asked, only making Kyra smile brighten as she explained her plan and put it into action

Alessia was recording, knowing everyone would love to see this later

"Okay Emily, pick a piece of paper"  Kyra said holding the two papers in front of you, one with McCabe and one with Foord

"No pointing" Jen said grabbing Katie hand and Steph grabbing caitlin hand as you were glancing at Caitlin and Katie with an unsure look

"Grab one of the papers darling" Caitlin said giving you a reassuraning smile

The team looked on as you started reaching for one and grabbing it, causing the aussies to cheer at the one you grabbed

"Emily Foord-McCabe" Kyra said happily as Caitlin smiled brightly, picking you up and placing you in her hip as she littered kiss on you face, laughter escaping you

"Sorry babe, but she has chosen" Caitlin said Katie looked a little sad

"And her middle name?" Alessia asked looking at Katie

"London"

"It's where we met and where we found her. Seems fitting" Katie said looking at Caitlin who looked back with lovefilled eyes

"Aren't you a big softie" Leah said with a grin as Katie shares a chaste kiss with caitlin before placing a kiss to you cheek

"Emily London Foord-McCabe" Kyra said with a giant smile "I would prefer Kyra, but London is fitting" causing Steph to gently smack Kyra arm as everyone laughed

[farfaras]

Part 1.

Maybe if Steve acts casual Robin won’t even notice. She barely pays attention to him when she’s too busy rambling about her love life. Or lack there of. If Steve’s lucky, today is gonna be one of those days.

But Steve’s good luck probably ended the first time he took a look at a demogorgon.

“What is that?” Robin giggled. If she finds this amusing wait until she hears what actually happened.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb. That only worked when I thought you were an actual idiot.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah well, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” Steve put on his family video vest and clocked in.

“What? I notice things!” Robin exclaimed when Steve made his way to the counter.

“Yeah, when you’re not too busy daydreaming about Vickie.”

“You’re changing the subject!”

“Objection!”

“Stop it!”

Steve sighed. How could you explain your friend sucked your neck to make your another friend jealous when you don’t even like said friend? Tricky.

Ugh. Robin was gonna make fun of him.

“You wouldn’t believe me.” Steve tried. It was a last resort to save himself from the embarrassment.

“Yeah, because I’ve never experienced anything out of the ordinary.” She raised an eyebrow. Steve knew she wouldn’t let it go. “When did you even go on a date, dingus? I don’t remember you telling me about it.”

“I didn’t go on a date.”

“Well then who did that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Ew! Are you in a friends with benefits situation?” She look scandalized and curious at the same time. “Because honestly Steve, I don’t think that’s your thing. I mean even if you try, it wouldn’t work out. You’re like an actual romantic. Wanting a serious relationship, yearning connection and all that shit. It would be cute if you weren’t kinda desperate sometimes.” Okay he had to cut her off if he wanted to keep his ego unbruised.

“Jesus! Okay! You don’t have to say it like I’m some loser who can’t get a girlfriend!” If he needed humbling he knew who to call now though.

“But you kind of are.”

“Do you want to know or not?” Even if he was embarrassed about the whole thing, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t hoping Robin would give him some insight. Once she stopped making fun of him. “It was Eddie.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and… excitement? “Holy shit! It finally happened?” What is she talking about now? “I thought I would actually have to wait another year at least for you guys to figure it out.” There’s nothing that makes Steve feel more inadequate than when he doesn’t get what people are talking about. “I mean anyone who’s got eyes could see how much you two liked each other and it’s cute but I was getting tired of the pining..” she trailed off when she saw how silent Steve was. “Why aren’t you as excited as me?”

Pining? Like each other? Did Robin think..? Did Eddie?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He questioned. His mind was going through every interaction him and Eddie once had. Trying to analyze his own behavior to come up with an explanation as to why someone would think he likes Eddie.

“Oh god. I thought. Did you guys not like… get together?” She was hesitant. It felt like she was trying not to scare a wild animal.

“No.”

“I gotta stop running my mouth like that. I’m sorry.” She looked mortified and it would be funny if this was another situation. “But what? Why would he do that? I’m so lost here, Steve.”

Steve went through backstory first, then he started retelling the events of the other day. Including how he actually enjoyed himself a little. He might as well be a hundred percent transparent, she was his best friend after all.

“Robin, say something.” His best friend being silent was not something he was used to.

“I’m so confused.” She said.

“Me too.” His confusion was starting to fade. The answer right in front of his face.

“So you’re… not together? Even after that?”

“I don’t even like him like that!”

“But you said you liked it!”

“Who wouldn’t!”

“I wouldn’t! Steve, a boy giving me hickeys is one of my worst nightmares.” He knew that. He knew it meant something that he liked it. The question is if he’s ready to face what it means.

“I- I know, okay?”

“Steve, say the word and we’ll stop talking about this.” He loves his best friend. He doesn’t know what he’d do without her.

“No. I think I’m ready.” Steve muttered. Robin smiled gently at him and that was all the encouragement he needed to feel safe enough to say it out loud.

“I like him.”

They hugged.

-

“It kinda sucks that he doesn’t like me back though.”

Robin thunked her head on the counter.

[nocreativityfornames]

Random Obey Me! Headcanons

Belphie doesn't know how to swim and is too lazy to learn. The brothers have tried to teach him multiple times, but he always ends up giving up before he can make any real progress. He even fell asleep in the water while Satan tried to teach him once, and after that, the brothers just collectively gave up and accepted he'd probably never learn how.

Lucifer is terrible at baking and making any kind of sweets in general. This is funny, considering he's one of the best cooks in the house when it comes to preparing literally anything else. And Satan absolutely thrives off of this, as he actually masters all areas of the kitchen and will brag about how it's one of the things he's better at than Lucifer.

Beel loves rock and metal, they're his favorite music genres to listen to and motivate him when he's doing his morning run, practicing for future games, or going through his workout routine. He actually learned how to play drums because of it, and even performed in a concert when a friend's band was doing a show, and the friend called him a few hours earlier saying he couldn't make it and needed him to take his place. That day, multiple videos of the concert were posted to DevilTube and went viral. Everywhere, people were discussing how talented Beel was, and the brothers even encouraged him to enter the music industry. He refused though, saying he wanted to focus on sports as it was his main passion.

Satan was born a baby, though he grew faster than any other demon or angel. The way I picture this is that he would stay the same age for a few months and then jump to another out of nowhere, for example: he'd be 3 years old for a few months, and then suddenly jump to 5, staying that age for another set of time till he jumped to 7 and continued the cycle. This only stopped when he reached the age he'd originally have if he had born when first formed as an emotion in Lucifer's body. And so he now ages normally, as any other demon would.

There's a magic barrier around the House of Lamentation that stops any demon that's not one of the brothers, Diavolo or Barbatos from even passing the gates. But as mentioned, it only works on demons, hence why Luke was able to sneak in without the others even noticing during season 1. And this is the same for the Demons' Lord Castle, that also has a magic barrier around it.

Mammon smokes. It's his way to relax after an especially stressful day, he'll stand on the balcony staring at the view outside, alone in his thoughts for as long as he needs to. The brothers understand, as they all have their own ways to cope with stress, and always make sure to check on him at some point while he's there or after. Sometimes though, on very rare occasions, Lucifer will actually go and join him. They'll vent to each other about work, their day in general, and whatever is on their mind while smoking together. Those times are very special for both of them, as they can just chat and relax together without worrying about anything else, knowing they'll always have each other.

The characters' speech gets jumbled when they're drunk, they just start speaking multiple languages at the same time and it only gets worse the more drunk they are. For example, Levi will start spilling Japanese words and sentences in the middle of conversations, Solomon will talk in Old English and confuse everyone, and Lucifer, as the affectionate drunk he is, will just start mumbling I love yous and a bunch of soft praises in Infenal to his brothers and MC. It's a mess.

Levi is one of the most popular streamers in the Devildom when it comes to gaming, anime reviewing, and weeb content in general. He's everyone's favorite, and the one people go to for opinions before purchasing anything. He gets sent games before the official release, merch, figurines, etc. And although most of his streams involve just him, sometimes a brother will join. Mammon and Beel for the most part, but the others have all participated at some point. ( Fun fact: Levi broke his record of views when Lucifer accepted to join him after years and years of pestering. They played Minecraft together, chatted about random stuff, and the viewers were blown away seeing a new side of the eldest, as they only viewed him to be intimidating and unapproachable. To this day fans beg for another stream between the two, but Lucifer always refuses, saying that was the first and last time. )

Lucifer taught Satan how to play piano when he was younger. The fourth born however grew to resent the instrument, lumping it together in the long list of things he'll never pursue again because of how it only makes him more similar to the eldest. He does miss it sometimes though, and very rarely, when he's alone at home, he'll play one or two songs to himself and think back to the lessons Lucifer gave him long long ago.

Beel gives the best massages ever for some reason. You'd think not because of his size and clumsiness, but he actually knows how to control his strength and be a perfect mix between gentle and rough. Oftentimes Beel uses his skill on his brothers, mostly Lucifer and Levi as they're usually the ones staying sitting for too many hours at a time and end up stiff as rocks afterward.

Asmo has an OnlyDevil account where he shares spicy pictures/videos of himself that his fans go absolutely crazy for. His account is very popular and he's actually one of the most sought creators on the platform. Needless to say, the amount of money he makes out of it is no joke.

For some time after lesson 16, Beel didn't know how to interact with Belphie or how to even feel about what had happened, making him avoid the twin completely. It got to the point where he couldn't even stand sleeping in the same room as him, seeking Mammon every night to sleep with him instead. The second born never minded, as sharing a bed with the younger one kept the nightmares of MC's death away.

Satan has always been extremely sensitive to certain sounds, textures, and tastes. For example, there's a brand of milk he absolutely despises for how weird it tastes, despite all the brothers ( including Beel ) insisting that it tastes the exact same as any other milk they've had. There's also a certain type of fabric he can't wear because of how it feels on his skin, numerous foods he can't eat as they give an unimaginable ick, and noises that make him physically cringe at how uncomfortable they sound. The brothers have been aware of these things ever since Satan was born, and although they don't completely understand it, they always have it in mind when buying something for him or finding themselves on cooking duty.

In the Devildom, birthdays are celebrated every 100 years. Diavolo however is an exception to this rule, as he is of royal blood, and his birthday is made into a huge annual event across the entire kingdom. Following this, the brothers only began celebrating their birthdays annually once MC came into the picture, as they wanted to experience as many birthdays as they could while they were still around.

Lucifer regrets not accepting Satan as his son from the get-go, cursing his past self for denying responsibility for the blond when he was first created and the poor way he treated him. But he didn't know any better, he had just fallen after facing a war against his own problematic father, and the last thing he wanted was to label himself as someone's parent. But now he really wishes things had been different, though he's already accepted that it's far too late now, as thousands of years have passed and he believes he's lost his chance to make things right an eternity ago. It still pains him to this day though, to see the change in Satan's expression whenever someone makes the even slightest suggestion to them being anything more than brothers.

I've already made a separate post about this one, but the brothers can sense their sins on other people and feed off of it. Also, demon blood is dark black, while angel blood is bright gold.

[prettyboykatsuki]

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human. 

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf. 

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest. 

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate. 

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves. 

And looking back on your interactions he was right,  Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.” 

“Why would it not be important?” 

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing. 

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?” 

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.” 

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?” 

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?” 

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for. 

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross. 

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode. 

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too. 

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical. 

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that. 

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him. 

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees. 

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself. 

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do. 

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence? 

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow. 

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack) 

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

__

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home. 

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it. 

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath. 

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm. 

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,” 

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?” 

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.” 

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.” 

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.” 

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.” 

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile. 

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.” 

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.” 

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand. 

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm. 

“It’s okay.” 

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point. 

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?” 

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.” 

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively. 

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.” 

You stare at him, jaw slack. 

“Right. And what else?” 

He racks his brain right in front of you. 

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.” 

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?” 

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes. 

“Yes.” 

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty. 

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?” 

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

You nearly choke on your spit. 

“A lot?” 

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.” 

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow. 

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now. 

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?” 

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried. 

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.” 

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.” 

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before. 

Like he wants you. 

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.” 

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,” 

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.” 

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.” 

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you. 

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.” 

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay” 

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid. 

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating.  It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair. 

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?” 

He nods, dumbfounded. 

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.” 

You giggle, delighted with the outcome. 

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head.  He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen. 

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too. 

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Like pup?” 

You laugh. 

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.” 

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you. 

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart. 

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you. 

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be. 

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,” 

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.” 

You nearly whimper. 

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.” 

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?” 

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.” 

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling. 

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt” 

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional. 

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.” 

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most. 

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.” 

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that. 

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.” 

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.” 

“I want to see yours.” 

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.” 

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply. 

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.” 

“Want to help. Teach me.” 

“...Teach you?” 

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.” 

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more. 

“Watch,” 

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest. 

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard. 

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.” 

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice. 

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.” 

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt. 

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit. 

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den. 

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them. 

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar. 

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears. 

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.” 

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you. 

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath. 

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face. 

“Archons, just. Come here.” 

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him. 

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,” 

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.” 

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?” 

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.” 

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees. 

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome. 

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply. 

“Fuck,” 

“R-razor?” 

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.” 

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?” 

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper. 

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,” 

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face. 

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie. 

Razor is starting to feel it too him. 

“Inside so, ngh - hot.  S-something coming, going to—” 

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.” 

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.” 

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum. 

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you. 

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak. 

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you. 

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?” 

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding. 

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?” 

[pinievsev]

Request: Hey I was wondering if you could do an Ajax x reader fic where Y/N can speak to animals and when she walks past Ajax she can hear the snakes talking about and admiring her so she starts to talk to them and Ajax is like wtf ofc they end up together but still it would be a funny one shot, like for example when they're taking a test next to each-other the snakes just tell her it answers. You don't have to make one but it would be greatly appreciated if you do could <3.

I absolutely love this! I've wanted to write something including his snakes- but I didn't know what! So! Let's go! (P.s. I have a lot of requests and alot of things to focus on and it's pretty hard so I'm sorry if these take along time)

SNAKE TALK!

Pairing: Ajax Petropolus x fem!reader. (Because the request specifically uses she/her <3)

Synopsis: in which, a certain Gorgon's snakes take a liking to Enid's best friend ;)

The reader is a Zoolinguist.

Zoolinguism: ability of communicating with animals. (Had to do some deep research on this)

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You had been Enid's best friend for the past semester, it's only been a month since you started this one, and everything is going great except for one thing. Sometimes when walking around the campus, mainly the quad, you hear mumbling in really high pitched hushed voices, if that makes sense. You've told Enid but she has absolutely no idea what it could be, you knew animals weren't usually aloud in school.

You were sitting at the quad with Enid breaking your heads trying to figure out what it could be. Suddenly, you heard mumbling again, this time, detriment to find out what it was, you go focused on it. "Ohhh look! Look there she is!" "She's pretty!" "Come on!! Go closer!!",were some of the things you heard along with what sounded like hissing. Wait! Hissing?!.

"Enid!" You said shaking your head "what animal makes some type of hissing sound?" she narrowed her eyes "cats?" You shook your head "can't be.." just then the bell rang, oh god you had a test in astronomy (I'm too lazy to find out a name myself, sorry not sorry j.k.r <3) "sorry Enid, gotta run! We'll talk later" she nodded as you sped walked off.

You knew, nothing. "Damnit" you mumbled Staring at the paperwork Infront of you. It was like the latters didn't form words, it was a disaster. You looked to your side, seeing your crush and friend Ajax, the way his nose scrunched when he didn't know something was adorable to you. Turning back you blinked rapidly trying to make sense of the question, then you heard it again, mumbling and decided to focus once more "4! The answers 4!" You heard the voices. You filled in number 4. This went on untill you finished your test. You didn't know who or what they were but you sure were thankful. Walking out of class you mumbled a "thanks" hoping they heard and walked off, leaving Ajax confused, and distressed trying to get his snakes to stay in his beanie. They've been acting weirdly lately. And he didn't know why.

You walked into your dorm, full speed "Enid! Guess what!" She jumped, turning off her music "yeah? Do tell!" She jumped on her bed Patting the spot Infront of her for you to sit, and you did "I had a test in astronomy, and I knew nothing right?" She nodded "and then I heard them again, the voices" her eyes widened "and?! Come on!!" "They were telling me the answers!" You smiled wide eyed and you both started laughing "seriously?!" You nodded frantically trying to catch your breath "yes! Seriously!" She thought for a second "so you said, they are alot of voices together right?" You nodded "and they are high pitched?" "Yup!" "Hm, maybe the animals are small" "most likely yeah." "And they make hissing sounds?" "Yes what are you trying to say?" She shrugged.

You were, once again, in the quad. When Ajax walked up to you "Hey! Y/n!" You looked up "hi!" He sat down next to you "are you alright? You've been acting kind of weird lately... And so have my snakes" he whispered the last part but you heard and your eyes went wide "your snakes?!" He nodded "oh my god- that's it!" You laughed rubbing your face "what's it?!" And then they started mumbling again, it sounded like Laughing so you laughed along "you scared me" you said to them breathing out "how did i-? What?" Ajax said "no you your snakes!" Just them two of them popped out of his beanie"hi!" They said and you waved "wait what-?" Ajax looked up and his eyes went wide "have they been..." "Talking about and to me? Yeah, they even told me the answers yesterday" Ajax put on a fake betrayed face "you traitors" you shook your head "what can I say, they love me" "they're not the only ones" he mumbled "what?" "What?" "What did you just say?.." he gulped "nothing, I said nothing" "no you did" you looked up at the snakes still poking out of the beanie "he said he loves you" your eyes went wide "you... What?" He sighed "traitors.." I said- I love you" you nodded breathing heavily "I... Me too, I love you too" he smiled "good! That good" you giggled at his awkwardness "now kiss!" You heard the snakes again "fine fine" "what-" you cut him off, kissing him, smiling into his lips as they cheered.

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Thank you so much to @iamonewiththebitches for the request <3!

Taglist: @snickerdodles , @111cherry , @luv4petersteele , @kxxvvxxi , @sidneysprit , @poppet05 , @marvelsimps , @i-wish-this-was-me , @wonderlandco , @day-dream1231 , @ke1ramar1e , @georgi-salva , @arson-the-royal , @falleni0-hq , @mindflay3r , @rottenstyx , @alice0blog , @nova-lov3su , @elduster , @countsmoon , @biggestsimponhere , @andreeasancheez , @justmanu , @whitewingsh , @hwrtsiren

[avatar-anna]

Can You Keep a Secret?

summary: in which Twilight did not prepare you for the real world

just a fun little blurb about vampires because it's spooky season!

"So you're a—"

"Yep."

"With fangs and everything?"

"Afraid so."

"But how did you—"

"I think it was when I went to a club. I thought someone with a studded collar ran into me and then proceeded to get roofied because the next thing I remember was waking up in a park with a massive headache and covered in dirt."

Y/n looked over her friend, eyeing his appearance warily. Her initial response was to step back, more like sprint in the other direction. But the shock of this revelation rooted her to the spot. The floor of her dorm room, specifically.

"You said that all in one breath," Y/n said. She wasn't really sure why, it was just the first thing that came out of her mouth.

"I don't think I have breath anymore," Harry said.

"Right," she said. "Because you're..."

"Dead."

"Dead?"

"I think so."

Y/n probably shouldn't have, but she stepped closer to him, peering at him with wide eyes. With her pointer finger, she poked his cheek. "You don't...look dead."

"Thanks?"

"Are you sure you're not on some acid trip?" she asked. "Maybe I'm on an acid trip."

"Nope. This is real. And it's happening," Harry said. "I'm starting to get hungry, I'm afraid."

Y/n immediately pulled her hand away from his face and practically leaped away from him. "Oh. Did you come here to—"

"No," Harry said quickly. He reached for her, but when he saw her flinch, he stayed put. "I think the overall disgustingness of actually having to drink blood has kept me from actually doing it. But—"

"But you'll have to eventually," Y/n finished for him.

"I didn't know who else to turn to," Harry confessed, distress seeping into his features. "I'm terrified and confused and am quickly starting to realize that the sun now gives me a strange heat rash and I don't want to eat people but the thought of killing an animal also just seems cruel, so—"

"Let me think," Y/n said, reaching out to hold Harry's hand. It was cold, so unlike the warm touch she'd grown used to. But the touch itself felt the same. Even though there was no blood actually rushing through his veins, he still felt like her friend. He was still her friend.

Y/n paced the floor of her dorm for a moment, rushing to close the blinds on her window when she realized Harry was confined to one corner of the room. She wasn't sure what the hell she was supposed to do in this situation. Dracula didn't seem all that accurate at the moment, or any other iteration of creatures of the night. But Harry was her friend, her best friend. She had to think of something.

"Wait here," she said suddenly before quickly leaving her room, nabbing a to-go cup she'd forgotten to throw out earlier.

She raced to the end of the hall where the bathroom was, shoving her way inside and locking herself in a stall. Holding the cup with shaking hands, she plucked her keys from her sweatshirt pocket, where she kept a bottle opener.

It took longer than she expected, and she felt a little woozy by the end of it, but for the time being, cutting open her hand and letting blood spill into the cup was the best she could think of. It would buy them some time to come up with a better solution.

Y/n hurried back to her room, leaning against it once she was safely back inside. Harry was still there, staring closely at himself in the mirror by her bed with his teeth bared. At the sound of the door, though, he turned around.

"I knew it was you coming down the hall," he mentioned absentmindedly.

"You did? How'd you even know it was me?"

Harry shrugged. "Your...heartbeat sounded... familiar ," he said quickly.

Y/n looked at him funny, knowing there was something he wasn't telling her, which she found odd seeing as he told her he was a literal vampire, but she let it go. Instead, she thrusted the cup toward him.

"Here," she said. "I figured this was safer than biting me and possibly losing control."

Harry took the cup gingerly, eyeing the contents with a grimace. But Y/n caught a flicker of something in his eye. Hunger, she realized. He didn't want to drink it, but he did.

"Could you maybe turn around?"

"Oh. Of course, sorry," Y/n said, a blush blooming on her cheeks.

She faced the door as Harry murmured his thanks. He must've dug in the moment she turned around because he could hear him slurping from the straw still in the cup. He was done in seconds, and by the time she turned around, he was wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand, the tips of his canines peaking out past his lips.

Fangs, Y/n thought. He really has fangs.

The reality of the situation seemed to hit her all of the sudden, and her knees buckled. Harry was there in a split second, and if that along with the other startling revelations from today weren't quite literally blowing her mind, she would've laughed at the parallel to that scene in Twilight.

That was all gone now. Harry was still pale, but there was more color in his skin now, culminating in his cheeks. His green eyes were more vibrant now, his lips an unfair shade of cherry red. He looked more handsome, because of course that was what reigned true among all the vampire lore there was out there, but he looked...well, he looked more alive, at least.

"You okay?" Harry asked, looking down at her.

His brows were furrowed with concern, and this close to her face, Y/n could tell the subtle differences that little bit of her blood made. She hadn't realized it before when he'd first come to her dorm, but his skin had been paler than it normally was and the planes of his face more pronounced than usual. He'd had dark bags under his eyes, and his usually curly hair had been rather limp and dull looking.

"Y/n?"

"I—Sorry. It probably wasn't much, but the impromptu blood donation kind of took it out of me," she managed to say, shaking away her reverie and steeping out of the hold Harry had her in.

"It was enough. Thank you," Harry said. "I actually feel a lot better."

"Did it taste like blood?" Y/n asked, curious to know the answer. Vampire shows always made it seem as though blood tasted like fine wine, but it was still just blood.

"I guess? Yes and no. No copper taste," he said.

Y/n hummed thoughtfully. She moved to sit on her bed, but faltered a step when the dizziness returned. Harry caught her again before helping her sit on top of her bed. He went straight for her snack drawer, which she kept in the first drawer at her desk instead of school supplies. Harry had helped himself to the multitude of goodies that resided there since they became friends, and Y/n had started to put more of what he seemed to like in it subconsciously, steadily learning his late night and study session snack preferences.

She supposed that was all different now.

"Here," Harry said, handing her a bar and a bag of cookies. "They hand these out at blood drives right?"

"Thanks," Y/n said, making room for him on her bed.

She ate in silence, Harry clearly having a lot on his mind. She had about a million questions, starting with how the hell was he going to pull off keeping this a secret and ending with did his skin sparkle in the sun. But Y/n kept them to herself while she ripped into her bag of cookies, slowly eating them while she waited for either of them to say something .

"Is your hand okay?"

Y/n looked down at where she'd hastily wrapped the cut on her hand in damp paper towels from the bathroom. It was pretty red, probably needed a bandage, but that hadn't really occurred to her while she was feeding her best friend who had accidentally got himself turned into a vampire.

"It stings," she said. "Sorry, does it bother you? I can—"

"It's fine, I just—I don't like that you had to hurt yourself for me."

Harry had been her friend since they started college together. They'd met in psychology class and had been study buddies ever since. And regular buddies, and now there wasn't anyone she trusted more. And that meant she knew him. Harry had always been protective of her, in a brotherly way, she often reminded herself. Y/n realized he probably wouldn't have been a huge fan of her plan if she'd explained it to him.

"It was just this once," she reassured him. "Just this once until we come up with a plan."

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this," Harry said, his shoulders slumping. "I just didn't know who else to turn to."

Y/n was reminded of a book she'd once read that had vampires in it—maybe she was the person to turn to for all this—that said that vampires had more intense feelings than a normal person, that every feeling, good or bad, was dialed to eleven. She didn't know if that was true in Harry's case. Hell, she didn't know what was true anymore. But on the off chance it was, it was probably in Harry's best interest to lift his spirits.

"I'm your friend, I'd be pissed if you didn't," she said. "We'll figure this out together, I promise."

"I'm not letting you do that again, though, okay? Don't hurt yourself for my sake. It's way too dangerous," he told her seriously. He looked at her, eyes boring into hers, and Y/n suddenly didn't want to look anywhere else but his eyes. She marveled at the peculiar shade of green that made up his irises, and the full lashes that framed them. She didn't want to blink so as not to stop looking at them for even a moment. All she wanted to do was stare. Stare and not hurt herself for him—

"Y/n? You with me?" Harry asked, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

Y/n blinked, thoughts of Harry's pretty eyes vanishing with the sharp sound coming from his fingers. Shaking her head, she looked away. Well, compulsion is real, she told herself. She'd have to start keeping a list. A Comprehensive List of What is True and What Popular Culture Has Lied About Regarding Vampirism.

"We are going to figure this out," she said with more confidence than she felt. "I am a woman of science, and there has to be an explanation for all this. I mean, you said it yourself, someone had to turn you right? At the club?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but—"

"Then that means there's at least one other vampire out there, which probably means there's more. And they can't just be starving in the shadows. There has to be a method to all this," she said, the gears in her brain already turning.

"I suppose," he said sullenly.

"Cheer up, H," Y/n said. "We're going to figure this out, okay? You're not alone."

Harry looked at her skeptically, his eyes scanning her up and down, perhaps trying to decide if she suffered a brain injury on the way back from the bathroom. But he merely nodded and said, "You're taking this all exceptionally well."

He had a point there, but maybe the shock would come later. "Life just got a little more interesting, that's all."

Harry smiled, and Y/n couldn't help but look at his canines. They looked normal, but she knew what was hiding beneath now. "So," he said, clapping his hands together. "Where do we start? Vampire lore? Finding the person who did this? How to safely acquire blood?"

"Statistics," Y/n said. She reached down for her backpack and pulled out her textbook, setting it before them. When she looked up at Harry, she laughed at the bewildered look on his face. "What? Just because you died and came back to life doesn't mean you can stop going to school."

"Um, I think that's exactly what it means," Harry argued, baffled by the topic change.

"I don't think so, Styles. If I have to suffer through my senior year, then so do you."

Harry only protested a little more before reaching for his own books. Silence settled between them comfortably as they sat shoulder to shoulder. Her mind was still partially coming up with a plan to keep him fed while she went over her notes, but she imagined she'd be doing a lot of multitasking from now on.

After a while, Harry bumped her shoulder with his. She looked up, and the look of sincerity on his face made her heart stutter. "Thank you."

It took a moment to respond, and this time she could blame the compulsion. "Of course. You'd do the same for me."

Harry seemed content to leave it at that. Y/n reached for her pen, then winced. "On second thought, maybe the first order of business is to get my hand fixed up."

"Right. Of course," Harry agreed, helping her off the bed and following her out of her dorm.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-nine

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: ahh shit really hits the fan in this one oops

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Coryo." You hum, knocking on your boyfriend's doorframe.

He looks up from his desk, smiling as he sees you standing in the door. You were still wearing what you had worn to class that day, a button up shirt he had bought for you with the orange skirt Tigris made, short and simple as if it was made by your own mother. It matched perfectly with his own mother's scarf that you always wore out, that was left draped over your shoulders. You were looking at him like you needed something, and it just made him light up.

"Love," He closes his book and stands up. "What do you need?" He asks, quickly pushing up his unstyled hair out of his face- the curls were beginning to come back, but they weren't quite as long as they once were. When he's with you, which is almost always, he makes a very conscious effort to keep it up and away from his face.

Your hands are tucked behind your back, nervously twisting your fingers. "Why must you assume that I need something?" You giggle.

"Because I know that look." He pokes your nose as he gets close enough to do so, now standing a foot away and looking at you expectantly.

"Okay, fine." You sigh. "I was wondering if you had any plans for Halloween."

"Hallo-what?" He asks, tilting his head at you. Your jaw drops.

"Halloween." You say again, wondering if it was possible he just misheard you.

He laughs, eyebrows raised in clear confusion.

"You don't know what Halloween is? You don't celebrate here?" You gasp.

"No, sorry."

"Oh my god, okay. Well, we must do something." You clap excitedly.

"Slow down, darling. You're gonna have to tell me what it is before I can agree." He chuckles, holding a hand out you to stop you before you got too excited.

"Okay, okay." You agree. "So, it's a holiday, similar to Christmas if you have that."

"Of course we have Christmas."

"How was I supposed to know?" You laugh. "Anyway, it's mostly for little kids, but still. Basically, on the last day of the month everyone dresses up in costumes of monsters or animals or different jobs- whatever you want, and the kids go knocking door to door and adults will give them treats."

"Treats." He states, but it comes out more like a question.

"Yes. Like cookies, or candy if you have it, really anything." You grin, nodding at him excitedly. "My Ma usually makes fudge."

"Okay..." Coryo laughs. "So... sorry, I'm confused. What do we do? Hand out candy to kids who won't come because no one's heard of it here?"

"That's the best part!" You clap. "We aren't parents; old enough to be stuck handing out candy, and we aren't young enough to go trick or treating, so we get to have the most fun."

"Okay..." He urges you on.

"We get to have a party!"

"A party." He eyes you a little bit skeptically.

"Yes!"

"Since when do you like to party?" He seems wholly unconvinced.

"I don't, but it's tradition! I always have fun, I just don't drink much anymore. It'll be good to make friends, Coryo. Please?"

"Anymore?" He laughs, but quickly shakes his head to stay focussed on what you were asking of him. "Love, I wish we could but I don't know where we'd have a party, we can't have it here."

You frown, thinking for a moment. "Oh! I'll call Sej." You grin, already bounding off down the hall toward the phone.

That was that, he couldn't change your mind even if he desired to- but really, if a party would make you happy, then you would get a party. He would make sure of it.

You had spent weeks handing out invitations to the other people in your classes, most of which, as you noticed, ended up in the trash cans or littering the halls. You didn't let it bother you, Coryo insisted that people just didn't tend to hold on to those kinds of things and it didn't mean they wouldn't come. (What you didn't know, was his near-constant cleanup efforts of asking anyone he knew or had classes with to come to his "costume party"- and people didn't like to say no to Coriolanus Snow.)

You had come up with a plan. Coryo would say it was his party, and he would be hosting it at the Plinth's estate. You couldn't run the risk of putting your name on the idea, especially after your interview assuring parents that you were just there to learn- not fraternize. You didn't mind, you knew more people would want to come if it was his party, and that it wasn't a "Halloween" party. Just a costume party that happened to land on the district holiday that none of these kids nor their parents knew about. Hopefully.

You were incredibly excited. You spent the days after Sejanus's parents left town over there making decorations, and begrudgingly, Coryo joined you after realizing you weren't only there to drop things off.

He never pictured himself spending so much money on orange and black coloured paper, but here he was. The list of things he would do for you is growing by the day, surprising even himself.

You had put a lot of time into your costumes, with Tigris's help over the last couple of weeks. It wasn't anything crazy, just a white dress and some small angel wings, and for Coryo a gray shirt with leather straps, some light chain mail on the shoulders, and silver sleeves. You were very proud of them, but you hadn't shown him yet. You would be Romeo and Juliet, and you thought it was just perfect.

You smile as you knock on his bedroom door, already in your costume. You would get there a little early to help Sejanus with some final touches, but you did have a lot of people confirm with Coryo that they were coming. You were excited.

He opens the door, his breath dying out in his throat as he takes in your outfit. He must have died and gone to heaven. "Well hello, angel." He grins as he regains himself, opening the door fully for you to come in.

"Do you like it?" You ask, giving a quick spin even as you're holding his matching costume behind your back.

"You look beautiful." He says quietly, nodding as he eyes how the white satin clings to your figure. He couldn't think of a more fitting costume for you; although to him, you always looked like an angel. But now, more beautiful than ever. Ethereal. "It's stunning, love."

"Thank you!" You smile, pulling his forward and holding the folded mix of fabrics up to him. "This is yours."

"Mine?" He asks, a confused smile on his face as he grabs it and unfolds it carefully. "What is it?"

"You're a knight!" You say, clapping your hands together excitedly. "Well, you're Romeo as a knight. And I'm Juliet." You grin, holding the hem of your dress and prompting him to look at it again.

"Romeo and Juliet." He chuckles, nodding slightly as he looks between the two.

"Yeah!" You smile excitedly. "Romeo! Here's drink. I drink to thee."

He laughs, nodding as he closes the door behind you and pulls off his shirt to put on the costume you made for him. "I love it, Y/N/N. Thank you."

"Of course." You nod excitedly. "I've always wanted to do a couples costume."

"Is that a thing?" He asks, getting ready to pull it over his head.

"Yes. It's so sweet! Couples will wear matching costumes and that's how you know they're together, I always loved looking at other peoples." You explain. "My parents always do matching costumes. One year, they both dressed up as cats. My mom made the ears out of felt, and they carried Tybs to the door with them to hand out candy. It was so cute. Like I said, they do matching costumes every year."

In your rambling, you don't notice how he freezes up completely, face falling. Hesitantly, he pulls it over his head. "How do I look?" He asks, gluing a smile back on.

You smile, nodding at him. "So handsome, Coryo." You confirm. "Tigris helped me make it."

"It's... a little uncomfortable." He tells you, pretending to adjust the light chainmail that hung over his chest.

You frown, reaching out to help him adjust it for a moment. "Is that better?"

He hates to do this- it fits perfectly, but he can't have people knowing you're together. Not yet. "Uh..." The hopeful look in your eyes breaks his heart. "Yeah, that's better." He nods, relieved by the smile that returns to your face.

"Are you ready to go, then?" You ask, tilting your head at him.

"Just give me ten minutes, love. Would you mind gathering up our drinks?" He asks, kissing your forehead.

"Of course, Romeo." You giggle, turning on your heel and leaving, closing the door gently behind you.

He hates himself for what he knows has to do.

When you got to Sejanus's house, you were practically vibrating with excitement as you ran around hanging up decorations and placing and replacing drinks and snacks on the tables, moving them around.

"Sej?" You ask, standing on a stool to be able to reach up above a doorframe.

"Yeah?" He calls back from across the room, turning to look at you.

"I'm out of tape, could you grab me another roll? We brought some, it's in the kitchen. Coryo will tell you which bag." You explain and he nods, giving you a quick thumbs up as he walks by and down the hall. 

Walking into the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes go wide.

There's Coryo, holding out the front of his shirt over the sink and pouring a glass of red wine down the front. Extremely, very intentionally.

"Uh... what are you doing?" He asks, and Coryo's head snaps up, eyes panicked.

"Uh, shit, I..." He laughs slightly, placing the glass down quickly and turning on the tap. "I tripped and, god I don't really know. I'm just trying to get this out..."

Sejanus nodded slightly, trying to hide how unconvinced he was. "I don't know if that will come out." He states.

"Shit..." Coryo sighs, albeit dramatically. If Sejanus hadn't just seen him do what he just did, he would be convinced. Coryo would make a good actor. "Well... Do you have something else I could wear?"

"Yeah... uh, yeah. Just go into my closet and help yourself." Sejanus tells him, gesturing down the hall.

"Thanks," Coryo says, brushing past him eagerly all ready to go and change into something else.

Your friend swallows, watching him as he disappears down the hall. Sejanus knew you had spent hours putting together that costume for him, could he even tell you that he saw Coryo ruin it on purpose? It would break your heart- but he did really want to know why.

Sejanus couldn't tell you. You were having fun, or at least trying to, and he didn't want to ruin that. People were talking to you, and to him, which was kind of new territory for the both of you. Your interview and your kindness in classes and to everyone you met did wonders for your reputations as "District kids". Surprisingly, your classmates had lots of questions and none of them seemed to have any real problems with you in a less pressurized setting. The alcohol was likely a contributing factor.

"Yes! Well, we'd go to the lake a lot. Oh! So, one time, my brother and I spent all day dragging this old barrel up a cliffside just to hang it off a tree at the top. We just spent our time doing the most random stuff." You giggle over the music, clutching your glass to your chest as you continue on a conversation with Hilarius, who you saw as a new friend even though Coryo wasn't his biggest fan. You had probably a little bit too much to drink, spurred on by your nervousness.

"A barrel..?" Hilarius laughs, tilting his head at you. 

"Well, yeah, what kind of stuff did you do for fun, then?" You ask over the loud music.

"Chess, I suppose. Reading, I don't know. Fun wasn't really on the schedule." He explains.

"Well, I'd rather drag a barrel up a hill than do nothing, wouldn't you?" You laugh.

"Touché." He tilts his glass at you before taking a sip.

"Y/N, can I steal you for a second?" You hear Sejanus say in your ear, suddenly beside you and you nod, politely dismissing yourself from the conversation.

You follow him down the hall to an empty corner. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to tell you. "I'm sorry about Coryo's costume, I know you worked hard on it." He says honestly.

"It is okay. Spills happen." You smile.

"Well, yes..." He agrees, looking around quickly to make sure he can't spot Coryo's blonde hair in the vicinity. It was a rare moment he wasn't with you, so now was his only shot. "But... it wasn't an accident."

"What do you mean?" You ask, tilting your head at him with a slightly nervous smile.

"Y/N I... I watched him pour the wine on it. Like, very intentionally."

You don't know what to say, slightly shocked. After a moment of him watching your expression evolve, you begin to laugh. "No, no. Sej, I love you, but how much did you drink before we got here? Because he wouldn't-"

"Nothing." He answers shortly, giving a firm shake of his head. "Not a drop, Y/N/N. I swear."

Your smile fades slightly at his abrupt statement. "Well..." You say quietly. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, but I know better than to be the one to bring it up to him. You should ask."

"I mean, he said it wasn't very comfortable before we left the house. Maybe he just didn't want to hurt my feelings." You smile to yourself, nodding as you decide.

"By ruining something you made for him? Yeah, that'll spare your feelings." Sejanus scoffs, looking past you once more to make sure Coriolanus wasn't nearby.

"He tried to spare them, I assume." You sigh, giving him a reassuring smile in hopes that he won't let it worry him. "It's okay. Thank you, Sej, for telling me, but it's really not a big deal."

The knowledge that Coryo ruined his costume on purpose was eating you alive. The feeling of dread sat deep in your chest where it apparently couldn't be drowned out with more wine or posca or anything that you could find or was offered to you. It made you so horribly sad, that even though you couldn't seem to find your boyfriend in any room of the large house you weren't sure if you even wanted to.

Talking to strangers helped, meeting new people. Some people you shared classes with, and you could mostly discuss that. It was a lot of explaining and reexplaining that people in the Districts were more or less normal, just with less access to resources. You got a few laughs out of that, but a surprising amount of understanding nods. Maybe all hope wasn't lost.

You were here to have fun. It wasn't like Halloween parties back home, and the sheer volume of boys in their own father's old peacekeeper uniforms was chilling to you. Even back home, where you knew those old uniforms were lying folded up in an attic somewhere, very few kids would dare touch them even to make a joke out of it. You couldn't take it anymore, deciding to just step out onto the back patio to get some fresh air.

The air hits your lungs and brushes over your skin, instantly giving you chills but you don't mind. Hearing talking over to your right, you take a look only to see Coryo with a few of your classmates, smiling as he leaned back against the wall of the house. A couple of faces you recognized, and one you didn't.

You smile as you walk over to them, squeezing in next to Coryo. "Clemmie, Livia. It's good to see you." You smile at them, and Clemmie gives a polite nod while Livia just takes another sip out of her glass while the other boy with them just continues talking.

"I don't believe we've met, sorry." You smile at him during a break in his story, extending a hand to him. "My name is Y/N. What's yours?"

He laughs, hesitantly shaking your hand. "Festus. Festus Creed." He tells you.

"Lovely to meet you, Festus." You grin. "Are you a friend of Coryo's?"

"Yeah, you could say that." He chuckles and you look up at your boyfriend who suddenly looks annoyed, rolling his eyes.

"I just love meeting his friends." You smile excitedly. "Are you studying at the university? I haven't seen you before." You say, folding your arm around Coryo's and he tenses up, not so subtly shaking you off.

You look up at him for a moment, a confused smile on your face from his actions.

"Would you mind giving me some space?" He asks coldly, almost glaring at you. Your eyes flick to his, but it's dark. They're cold, icy blue even in the poor lighting. His cheeks are flushed, but maybe that's from the chill.

"Oh, sorry." You laugh nervously, taking a step back and abandoning your conversation. "I... um, I'm gonna go get some water. It was nice to see you." You wave quickly to his friends, turning and heading for the door.

"Sorry, apparently my tribute gets touchy when she drinks." You hear Coriolanus laugh behind you as you enter the house again. It was met by laughs from the rest of the group he was with, and your heart dropped practically out of your chest and onto the floor. You wouldn't have been shocked if you looked down and saw your white dress absorbing the remains of your heart.

Your white feather angel wings catch on the curtain of the door as you close it behind you, and you want to scream and rip them off as you feel tears well up in your eyes. You look around for your best route of escape, feeling the familiar tightness in your chest begin to build.

You'll have to go along the wall- clinging to the outside of the room as you avoid the chaos of the middle in an effort to make it up to Sejanus's room. You'd be alone there.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you keep your head up, eyes locked on the entrance to the foyer with the large staircase, which you know you can take to get to your friend's room. Your fight or flight is kicking in, you think, as the music and laughter and voices fade into nothing. You almost expect the familiar clang of a metal weapon to sound out in front of you as it slams into the wall- but you have to make a very conscious effort to remind yourself that you aren't in the arena anymore. Even if it felt like it more and more with every step.

Shutting the door to Sejanus's bedroom, you quickly shuffle over to his bathroom and lock yourself in, freezing when you catch a look at yourself in the reflection. She was hardly a reflection of you; tear-stained cheeks, angel wings- when you knew that these days you were just about the farthest thing from it. You had changed. You hardly recognized her, and that's the thing that forced you to look away.

You don't even hear someone enter the room until there's knocking on the bathroom door. "Y/N? Are you in there?" Lyssie asks, concern dripping through her tone.

You sniff, quickly wiping your eyes. "Yeah! Yeah, I just need a moment." You choke out, trying and failing to keep your voice steady.

"Are you okay?" She asks through the door, wiggling the handle now. "What happened?"

"I'm fine just fine." You insist, laughing nervously as you look down at how badly your hands are shaking.

"Can I come in? Can you open the door for me?"

God, how you wished it was Lucy Gray on the other side.

But Lucy Gray isn't here. Lysistrata Vickers is all you have- so with shaky hands you reach for the door and unlock it, letting her in. She won't hurt you, you're sure.

Her eyes are already wide with worry as she gets her first glimpse at you. "Oh, Y/N, what's wrong?" She asks, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind herself. "Here, sit down..." She nods to the floor, which has clearly been recently cleaned. Even so, she pulls a towel from the rack and lays it out for you to sit on.

"I'm just a little too drunk." You sniff, trying to dismiss her worries, and slide down against the wall on top of the towel she laid for you as sobs take over you.

"Want to tell me what happened?" She asks again, hurriedly reaching for a smaller towel and wetting it with what you assume is cold water, wringing it out before joining your side on the floor.

"Nothing." You shake your head and bring your hands up to cover your face as you cry into them. "I can't... I can't tell you."

"Okay, that's okay..." She soothes you. "Here, this will help. Can you move your hands for me?"

She doesn't want to touch you, no one really does. You lower your hands, squeezing them tight together in your lap as she carefully reaches up to dab the cloth across your forehead. It does feel good on your burning skin.

You focus on taking deep breaths, trying not to embarrass yourself any further.

"There you go..." She smiles. "You're good at this."

You laugh through your tears. "Well, it comes with my title, I guess." You sniff, wiping your cheeks again.

"I'd bet..." She hums. "But you're doing great."

You just nod slightly, running through lines in your head out of nervous habit. "I love him, oh, I love him; but he won't let himself be loved."

You don't even realize you're saying it out loud to yourself until Lysistrata speaks. "Is it... Is this about Coriolanus?" She asks, and you don't want to tell her that it's a quote from a story of her namesake because ironically, she is right, and ironically, that was the only line you could think of when you strained to remember any of it.

You nod slightly, biting into your lip and letting your shoulders shake with the latest round of sobs.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." She gently rubs your shoulder. "He's... He's not very sensitive to people's feelings. I know that. Just try not to take it personally. It's not your fault."

"How could it be anyone else's?" You sniff. "I embarrass him... But I try so hard to be good. I try so hard..." You cry, wet eyes making it hard to see.

Lyssie looks at you, a little confused. "What did he say?" She asks.

"That..." You hiccup, trying to breathe through it so you can explain better. "That I needed to give him space, all I was doing was standing next to him." You sniff again, wiping your eyes. "And he called me his tribute to his friends- it made me feel just sick... And earlier Sej told me that he ruined the costume I made him on purpose, we were supposed to match! Now I just look like I'm desperate for people to like me- dressing up as an angel when everyone here knows what I did! I don't know what I did wrong... Why does he hate me now?"

She watches you silently, trying to put together the pieces. 

"I don't understand." You say again, shaking your head. "He told me he loved me this morning! I don't know what I did to change that..."

"Sorry, he said he loved you?" Lyssie asks, eyes wide.

You nod slightly, looking over at her. Why does she seem so shocked?

"Wait, Y/N..." She pauses, shaking her head slightly. "Are you guys like... together?"

"Mhm." You swallow, wiping under your eyes. "But apparently not anymore."

"Oh my god, I had no idea." She stammers out, snapping out of her shock to pat the cloth on your head again.

"You didn't?" You sniff. "He didn't tell you?"

"No." She shakes her head, but quickly continues. "I'm sorry, he doesn't tell much to anyone, though..."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning your head back against the wall. "I should have known this couldn't work. I feel so stupid."

"He shouldn't have led you on like that..." She replies quietly. "I don't know a whole lot about you, but I know you're not stupid. I also know that Coriolanus always gets what he wants, one way or another."

"I just want to go home..." You cry, shaking your head. "I want to go home."

Lyssie looks back to the door, gently dabbing the damp material across your forehead. "I'm going to go get Sejanus, okay? Can you hold this on your head for me?" She carefully passes the cloth into your shaking hands and you nod, leaning your head down against it instantly.

She gets up and leaves, carefully and quietly closing the door behind herself. If one person in this city knew even a little bit about what you were feeling or how to help, it would be Sejanus Plinth.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses-deact, @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

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[katyswrites]

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol use, recreational weed use, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n, not quite smut but we're getting close folks

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 3

You don’t see Steve for nearly a week after that - you hang around the radio station quite a bit, as you usually do, but never manage to run into him. You should be thankful for that - for how peaceful it is. It’s not even like you want to see him - no, why would you? He’s a pain in your ass, and you should be thankful that you can do your job in peace. 

No, it’s not actually at the station that you see him next - though, it’s tangentially related. You’re at perhaps your second-favorite place in the world - Varsity Vinyl, the local record shop downtown. It has some of the best selection you’d seen, and you always find yourself there - buying for your own growing record collection, or rooting through the used and discounted bin to help stock the station’s vinyl library. It’s where you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon, flipping through records while figuring how much money you actually realistically are able to spend.

You don’t see him, not at first. He’s standing further down the aisle, and when you finally look up and spot him, you nearly jump - he’s just staring at you, eyes wide. You straighten up, just holding eye contact - you feel like two wild animals sizing each other up, deciding whether to run or fight. You’re truly deciding between those two options when he clears his throat.

“Oh - uh, hey,” he says, quieter than you had expected.

“Hey.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, you both find yourselves speaking at once:

“Your party was fun the other night -”

“Are you okay -”

You both pause, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Sorry, uh - the party was fun last weekend. Thanks,” you say quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Oh, yeah - glad you came. You… you seemed like you were having a good time.”

Like I made an absolute fool of yourself, more like, you think to yourself.

“Oh! I mean - I guess. Sorry if I got a little - uh -”

“It’s fine, don’t worry - we’ve had worse,” Steve assures.

He hasn’t said anything about bringing you home. Part of you is convinced that Eddie was misinformed, and Steve didn’t actually bring you home that night - that is, if it wasn’t for that stupid note. The note you probably should have thrown out, but stuck into a desk drawer instead - to refer to later, just to make sure you weren’t crazy, you had reasoned.

But now, Steve is standing in front of you, more quiet and withdrawn than you’ve ever seen in the past four years of knowing him.

“So, uh - thanks,” you say quickly, almost mumbling.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“For, um, getting me home safe - I don’t really remember it, but -”

He waves you off. “Oh, that - don’t worry about it. The hardest part was getting you to tell me your address,” he says, laughing. “You were wasted.”

You groan. “That’s…embarrassing.”

He smirks. “Honestly, yeah, a little bit. But most people were gone by then, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I mean - I’m surprised you didn’t tell everybody - how I was, you know, throwing up all over your apartment, being a drunk idiot -”

Why didn’t he? It’s leverage - a way to make people lose respect for you, and gain more for him. A part of this stupid, pointless power battle you two seem to always be involved in, seeing how far you can push one another. His response is unexpected.

“You don’t actually think that little of me, do you?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

He scoffs. “Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t hold your alcohol for shit. But, I’m not going to go around telling everyone that, okay? Christ -”

He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome, though.”

You suddenly feel like a bit of an asshole - Steve is used to you throwing insults his way, but this time, it seems to have struck a chord with him.

“I was in a really bad way, wasn’t I?” you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact.

He nods. “Honestly? Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. You really don’t remember?”

You shake your head, face feeling flushed with embarrassment. He just sighs.

“What do you remember?”

You rack your brain for a moment, biting your lip absentmindedly as you think.

“Um - I remember playing Kings with everyone… and, uh…”

I remember you coming in from the porch with what’s-her-face on your arm -

“-and it gets fuzzy after that,” you say quickly.

“Oh, okay - wow, that’s pretty early on. Well, you did some shots with Eddie and Robin - you got on the kitchen table at one point ... I think you threw up over my balcony… and after that I, uh, hung out with you in the bathroom while you threw up some more, and brought you home.”

You freeze. “Wait - you babysat me, like, the whole time? I thought that was Eddie -”

“No way, Eddie was too high to help anyone. I was stone-cold sober by that point, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” you say, wishing you could sink into the floor. Steve fucking Harrington knew what you looked like keeled over a toilet and puking your guts out… dammit.

“It was pretty gnarly, but… it’s fine. Really, it’s okay.”

For maybe the first time in his life, it sounds like Steve is being sincere with you. Another beat of silence passes, then he’s clearing his throat again.

“So… you have any big plans tonight? A repeat of last weekend, maybe?” he asks casually. You furrow your brow, confused.

“Um - do you actually care?”

He shrugs. “So what if I do?”

“Well - no, after last weekend I’m not sure if I ever want to drink again -”

“The most famous lie ever told,” he cuts in, grinning. You just roll your eyes, and pretend to be interested in perusing the records as you return to flipping through the crates.

“-but it just so happens that I do have plans tonight,” you say quietly.

“Hot date?”

You scoff. “I’m going to Fuze Box. Nancy’s covering some bands for an article for the campus paper, and I figured I’d check out who's playing tonight.”

WAMC has a long-standing relationship with Fuze Box, a small music venue for local artists and college bands. A lot of students and station members play there, and shows at the Box get advertised a lot on the air. You try to go to local gigs as much as you can - though, you haven’t made as much of an effort lately, too overwhelmed by other responsibilities as station manager. Nancy’s article is a good excuse to go, for the first time all semester.

“So, you don’t know any of the bands playing tonight?” he asks, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

You shake your head. “Nope - just figured I’d check it out, go in blind. Maybe I’ll even put some of the bands in my radio slot next week, if they’re selling CDs or something.”

Steve grins mischievously.

“Right - well, have fun, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and know that any semblance of an awkward peace between you two is gone - the Steve you know and love (to hate) is back. You turn to make a clever retort, but he’s gone, having stalked off to a different aisle.

You’re not sure what he’s up to, but part of you now has a sneaking suspicion that he might show up at the venue tonight just to piss you off - it’s such a Steve move.

As you go to the checkout, you do your best to shake it - after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

*****

“Thank you - we’ve been Lime of Decision - goodnight!” the lead singer shouts, a collection of hollers and applause following. The lights go up a bit, some venue staff coming out to the stage to adjust the equipment for the next band.

“Lime Of Decision is… a choice,” Nancy says, scribbling something into her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s because their name is literally meant to be a joke,” you say absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Jason, the lead singer? His ex-girlfriend is in a band called Lemon Of Choice, so it’s like…funny. I think.”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Which band is better?”

“Definitely hers,” you say immediately.

You and Nancy both stare at each other for a moment, and break into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” she asks.

You shake your head, holding up the cup of beer you’re still nursing from the beginning of the last band’s set.

She disappears into the crowd, and you sigh, taking a drink as you once again survey the room. If Steve actually is here, you haven’t spotted him yet - maybe he decided that getting on your nerves wasn’t worth actually paying the cover at the door. Or, maybe he actually had more important plans - maybe even with that girl he was all cozy with at the party -

You stop yourself - why do you care? If anything, it should be a good thing that he doesn’t seem to be here. 

There’s two more bands left to go - you had glanced at the flier on the way in, but only recognized Lime Of Decision in the lineup. So, when Nancy returns with a new drink and the lights begin to dim again, you just hope the next band is better - it can really be hit or miss at these sorts of shows.

Darius, the radio station’s tech engineer, is emceeing the show. He steps out on stage to introduce the next band, earning a smattering of cheers and hollers thrown in his direction.

“Alright, alright everyone! Settle down - that includes you, Hagan - Jesus Christ, okay - can we give it up for the amazing bands we’ve heard so far tonight?”

You clap along with the rest of the crowd, rolling our eyes at the sound of particularly rowdy hollers from the back that you just know comes from Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin.

Darius’ eyes narrow.

“Dammit, Munson - when I said a month-long ban, I meant it -”

You glance back to see Eddie flipping Darius off - famously, Corroded Coffin got a temporary suspension from Fuze Box for smoking weed in the green room. But, the ban actually being enforced… not likely.

Darius rolls his eyes, struggling to get the room back on track as he taps the microphone.

“Okay, okay - everyone, can we please - if you all can shut the fuck up - okay, whatever. The next band up tonight - you guys know and love. They’re a Fuze Box favorite - and no, they are not promising anything with the name. Give it up for Free Beer!

You can’t help but laugh at the band’s name - you instinctively turn to Nancy, who is doing her best to stifle a giggle as she writes something on her notepad, squinting in the dark.

It’s during those few seconds while you’re looking away that the band takes the stage - which is why, when you glance back, you freeze as you see who’s standing front-and-center.

Steve stands at the mic stand, an electric guitar slung over his shoulders as he smiles at the crowd.

You freeze. Other band members - including Robin and Argyle, who you know all too well from the radio station - come out onto the stage behind him. But you’re just staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

You knew he had a band - scheduling them to perform on the air was always a nightmare for you, which you knew Steve did on purpose. So, you had never learned anything about them on-principle. You hadn’t heard a lick of music, didn’t know who else was in it, or even the goddamn name - until right now.

Nancy’s eyes are on you, you can feel it. You turn briefly to look at her.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, glancing at where Steve stands on stage. You shake your head.

“God, no! I - I’m an adult, I can be in the same room as Harrington,” you say, laughing nervously. You’re not sure how much you believe yourself. She stares at you for a moment, then just nods, turning her attention back to the stage, where Steve is stepping up to the mic.

“Hey guys - we’re Free Beer. I’m Steve -”

A few feminine voices cheer from the back. Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head that you’re worried you’ll go blind.

“Thanks, ladies, love the enthusiasm. So - let’s just get into it. Ready to hear some songs?”

There’s an eruption of cheers through the audience - one of the biggest reactions of the night so far.

“Alright - this one is called ‘Closer,’ I hope you enjoy.”

From the moment he plays the first chord, something shifts in the room. The crowd becomes less rowdy, less chatty. No - everyone is really listening. Some are even singing along - how the fuck do this many people know the words? 

You want to hate it - you want the set to be something you’re tolerating, something that makes you look forward to the next band coming out. But, despite your efforts, that’s not what happens. Because the band is good. Robin is killer on bass, and Argyle is a formidable drummer, despite his perpetually laid-back persona. And Steve - it’s like he was born to do this.

Aside from having a pretty good voice, and being an excellent guitarist, he’s actually a good frontman. He’s charismatic, knows how to work the crowd, and somehow, he makes the tiny stage of the Fuze Box feel as exciting as Live Aid. 

You want to scream - of course he’s good. You catch yourself moving along to the music every now and then, and immediately stop yourself, hoping nobody sees. At one point, you swear Steve sees you. His eyes land on yours - or, at least, in your direction. You think you imagine it - it’s a big enough crowd, and you’re far enough back that he probably can’t see past the first few rows. That is, until he smirks, in the way that you know he reserves only to taunt you, to challenge you.

Fuck.

*****

You find yourself heading down the hallway after Steve’s set - you’re looking for the bathroom, shouldering through the bodies packed into the narrow passage. Part of it is because your beer has finally gone through you, and more so because you need a minute of peace and quiet, just to stare at yourself in the mirror and talk some sense into yourself. Steve’s band can’t be good - that would be a problem. If you didn’t know who was part of it, they’re the kind of band you would buy records for, keep a spare CD in your car, and even include as part of your radio show. But…it's Steve.

You had purposely never gone to any of his shows - you never listened to any in-studio sessions they did at the station, and God knows you would never ask Steve about his music. What the fuck?

Part of you also wants to smack him - of course he was performing here tonight - he looked you in the eye at the record store today, heard you were coming here tonight, and said nothing. Next time you see him, you decide, you’ll ignore him - you won’t even acknowledge that you saw him perform. If he asks, you’ll tell him you left the show early, long before he came on stage. You won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking you sat through his whole set, let alone enjoyed it.

You can’t exactly remember where the bathroom is - was it all the way at the end of the hallway? None of the doors are really labeled, which tracks for Fuze Box.

You knock on a few doors and jiggle the handles - one is an electrical closet, the other is locked and seemingly empty. You finally reach a door at the end, and give it a gentle knock - nobody responds. You try the knob, and it gives way. After shouldering your way inside, you wish you hadn’t.

Apparently, instead of the bathroom, you’ve managed to find the green room - although, to call the backstage area of the Fuze Box a green room is generous. It’s really a tiny room with a worn out couch, a cracked glass coffee table littered with ashtrays, and lighting so dim that you have to squint to figure out exactly where you are as you slip through the door.

It’s only once you’re inside, when it’s too late, that you realize you’ve walked in on Steve.

His back is turned to you, but he jumps slightly and turns when he hears the door open. He’s wiping his brow with a towel, and he grins when he sees you.

“Hey, sweetheart - wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”

You stand in the doorway awkwardly - why couldn’t the rest of his band be hanging out here with him? That way, you could throw out a blanket ‘you guys were great’ statement. But now it’s just him, staring at you, his face saying why the fuck are you here?

“Oh - sorry - I’m in the wrong room,” you say quickly, your face feeling hot as you start to back away.

“Okay - sure you are,” Steve says sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” you ask, stopping your retreat.

He shrugs. “Don’t know - you just seem to always conveniently stumble into me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Try to stop me.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you just groan with frustration, taking a few steps towards him.

“Jesus, I - I don’t know if it’s like, a weird sick game to you, or you’re just always trying to piss me off - or if you just can’t help and flirt with everyone -”

“You think I’m flirting with you?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

You stop, folding your arms in indignation.

“No - I mean, kind of, but probably as a joke - I know what you’re up to, Harrington.”

“And what exactly am I up to?”

“This bullshit you keep pulling,” you say, gesturing between you two. “This - like, always sabotaging my shit, and getting in my way - but then like, this stupid nice-guy thing, where you drive me home when I’m drunk and don’t tell anyone, but then like you trick me into watching your stupid band perform -”

He scoffs. “Trick you? Be serious -”

“You knew I’d be here tonight - you knew, and didn’t say anything -”

“Well given your track record, sweetheart, if you had known I’d be playing, I’m sure you would’ve been front row!”

You stop mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as you try to search inwardly for a reply. Your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He’s smirking now, just like he did on stage. As always, he’s too confident, too sarcastic, too Steve. He’s taken away your ability to even come up with a halfway decent retort. It pisses you off.

“I - that’s not -”

Your blood is rushing to your head, roaring in your ears, too enraged to even let you think straight anymore. You’re marching right up to him now, prodding his chest with your finger.

“I don’t like you,” you say. 

“You don’t say?” he drawls, still smiling. Why is he smiling?

“Stop doing that -”

“Doing what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Stop distracting me -”

“I distract you?”

You want to kick yourself.

“I - well - only because you’re so -”

“Devilishly handsome?”

“-fucking annoying.”

He cocks his head, like you’ve only mildly piqued his curiosity instead of insulted him.

You sigh. “What?”

“It’s just - you didn’t seem to find me very annoying last weekend when you tried to kiss me.”

A beat. You just stand there, jaw agape as his words hang in the air between you like smoke on a hazy summer’s day.

“That’s not funny,” you manage to say.

“Does it look like I’m laughing?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him - the next band has started outside, a distant din that should be distracting. But all you can focus on is Steve - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way you’re close enough to smell that he had just had a cigarette.

“I didn’t -”

“Sweetheart - right before you puked your guts up in my bathroom, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat. Don’t worry - I didn’t let you. I really thought you would’ve remembered, until I saw you in the record store - then I realized you didn’t remember jack shit.”

You feel like you’re making this up. He’s just saying this to get under your skin - he must be. It’s the only explanation. Because you’d never - 

“You’re lying.”

But he’s just staring at you, and you’re starting to get the sickening suspicion that this isn’t a joke.

“You’re lying,” you repeat, though it sounds more like a question this time.

He’s taking another step towards you, shaking his head.

“You know what they say, sweetheart - in vino vesco, or whatever. You know - how people say and do what they’re really thinking when they’re drunk -”

“Veritas.”

He stops, furrowing his brow.

“I - what?”

You can’t help yourself - you just can’t.

“The phrase is in vino veritas - it means truth. I think vesco means food or something, you’re missing the whole  -”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re always such a -”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you’re kissing him. You don’t mean to do it, you swear - but he had gotten so close, the heat radiating off of him too much to ignore. And, he was really pissing you off - you didn’t need to hear another word out of his mouth.

You fist your hands in his t-shirt, your lips on his, messy and desperate, like you’re trying to prove a point. And he’s kissing you back.

Steve kisses the same way he argues - he’s aggressive, his hands coming up to grab your face and pull you closer. He tastes like cigarettes and cheap beer, his aura hot and desperate as it envelops you. 

The band plays out in the venue, the audience cheering and singing along - but, all you can hear is Steve’s labored breath against your lips, your own heart thudding in your chest.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, another argument you were both desperate to win. But, right now, you’re losing. Because he’s guiding your body, and you’re responding, stepping backwards until your back is hitting the cinderblock wall.

No words are spoken, just breathy moans and the sounds of your lips moving in unison. It’s not remotely romantic - it feels more like fuck you, I’m trying so hard to hate you, why can’t you let me -

One of his hands has traveled down to your waist, gripping it firmly enough to tell you that he wanted more. You feel his hand start to move, slipping under the hem of your shirt and gently brushing the warm skin of your lower back. His hands are calloused, rough against the softness of your skin. You let him start to explore, unable to stop yourself from quietly moaning against his lips. 

You know you should stop - but you can’t. It’s addicting, the way he’s still fighting with you as his tongue enters your mouth. Is this really happening? Maybe this could’ve gone on for hours. That is, until -

The knock on the door makes you both jump, pulling apart as quickly as you had crashed together. Steve is staring at you, breathing heavily, his pupils blown and lips a bit swollen. You imagine you look similarly. He takes a step back, separately himself from where you’re still frozen against the wall.

“Yeah?” Steve calls, voice rougher than before.

“Are you decent?” a voice asks from the other side of the door, barely audible over the sound of the band currently on stage.

Steve looks like he’s fighting laughter, but he just shakes his head, back facing the doorway.

“Nope - you’re good,” he says, his eyes meeting yours again.

He doesn’t need to say it - the look he’s shooting your way is enough.

Not a word.

Robin enters, grinning.

“Hey, we were just going to - oh, hi.”

She’s spotted you, and you just know she has questions.

“Hey, Robin,” you say quietly. “I, uh - I was looking for the bathroom. Ended up in here - I was just telling Steve how much I liked your set.”

Robin beams. “Thanks! It’s fun to see that you came out - haven’t seen you at a gig in a while!”

You nod. “Oh, yeah - I’ve been trying to get myself out there more -”

Steve scoffs, and you want to slap him. If Robin notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“- but, um - I should go.”

Robin nods. 

“Yeah - I was just coming to find Steve, we’re all going to head to WT’s for a drink - uh, do you want to come?”

She’s probably just being polite. But, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, I’m good - sounds like it’s a band thing. I should get going anyway - I’ll catch the end of this set,” you say, gesturing towards the sound of the band on stage echoing from down the hall. You still haven’t made eye contact with Steve, not since Robin entered the room. So, you just give her a curt nod, and do everything in your power to head out the door without looking like you’re bolting.  You’re screwed.

author's note: thanks for your patience y'all! I'm going away to Ireland on a work trip for about 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so I'm hoping to do some writing while I'm there, but no promises! As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[lululandd]

rabid; (i.)

pairing: platonic simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 956

warnings: comedy, aftermath of torture, mild gore

note: heheh >:3 (also on ao3)

summary:

ghost has a love-hate relationship with his neighbour of six years. on one hand they’re quiet enough, nice enough, considerate enough and never once had bothered him in any way, but on the other hand he is a highly trained soldier with highly trained senses and the things he hears travelling through his walls are batshit insane.

part i. | part ii. | part iii. | part iv.

He guesses they are an entertainer or a comedian or some sort because on rare occasions, they—whether he wanted to or not—made him laugh. The absurdity of the questions and things that came out of their mouth really makes him feel like he has a glimpse of what a worry free civilian life could be.

On one particularly rowdy night he heard the one sided conversation about anal, which rapidly escalated to how peoples arseholes can stretch up to seven inches in diameter and therefore, theoretically could fit two smaller raccoons.

He listened in fascinated horror how that thought came into their mind, how they associated arseholes with raccoons, and why in christ fuck did they sound so cheerful about it. Maybe he’s just a battle hardened, workaholic soldier that has only seen carnage and suffering, but even if such a thought came to his mind, it would not be classified as a happy thought and he would not laugh about it.

Until eight months later where he’s interrogating an American that he really wants to just straight up murder and remembers his neighbour.

He opens the door that leads to the rest of the warehouse and calls out to his men, “I need two raccoons. Small but not pups.”

He was met with silence and a confused looks, but he saw Gaz and Soap get on it and round up several soldiers.

“Alive!” He barked at them.

—

Soap looked worriedly at Gaz, “What do you think he’s gonna do with live raccoons?”

The other man shrugged, “You think he’s gonna threaten him with rabies?” Gaz gnashed his teeth together, “Let them bite him or something?”

One of the Lance Corporals behind them chimed, “I kinda wanna see.”

In came a chime of ‘yeah’s from the other men.

—

Ghost had made sure the American in question heard his request of the live raccoons before taking a seat on the table holding all his tools and lighting up a cigarette.

He looked at the man’s surroundings, the litter of teeth and nails on the floor, three parts of his severed ring finger, and the blood splatters on the makeshift plastic floor. The cleanup crew’s gonna at least be a little happy about that.

“You like raccoons, mate?” He offers, lighting what seemed to be his third cigarette.

The question caught him off guard. “What?”

“Raccoons. Trash pandas. Those chubby lil wankers with grubby hands.” He curled his palms and did mock scratching motions.

“You’re crazy.” He spat.

“I am.” For even thinking of trying this over his neighbour’s demented jokes.

Fourty five minutes later Gaz came knocking on his door.

“Got your furry friends, boss.” He gestures at a cage sitting by the door. The animals seemed calm, they couldn’t have just nicked it from some random bins and throw them in there.

“Cheers, Gaz.” He saw the man linger. “Anything else?”

“Can we observe, Sir?”

“No.” came his quick answer. If he really has to do what he thinks he’s gonna do, he’d rather his men not see it. They’ve seen so much in their line of work already, he doesn’t want to add to their nightmares.

Imagining one of them having PTSD from seeing a harmless animal makes him feel guilty.

He took the cage from Gaz’s hands and placed it nicely on the floor, a little way away from the American’s feet.

“You know that saying?” He puts on his best southern accent, mimicking Graves. “What crawled up your butt and died?”

The man’s eyes widened and he tried so hard to shift further into his seat, trying to create as much distance between them as possible. Ghost lets the moment go on for a little longer. It makes all the difference, really; whether you rush into the torture or letting them sit and wonder about the choices they think they have.

“I heard somewhere that your arse can stretch up to seven inches in diameter.” He pointed at the raccoons, “The normal sized bastards can fit into a four inch hole. But I’m being nice today and gonna give these smaller ones some wiggle room.”

He can’t help but crouch closer to the cage and coo at them as the man starts yelling for help.

“So.” He said in a calm voice, listing his head slowly when the man had stopped screaming his throat dry. “Since I’m a very nice man today I’m gonna give you two options.”

Fat rolls of tears had started to run down the man’s cheeks, his chest heaving as he begged for mercy.

“Do you want me to sedate these raccoons so they don’t claw your insides or do you wanna..” He remembers a word that floated into his flat one night, “..rawdog it?”

—

Soap had never seen a cleaner interrogation room before. Not from Ghost, the man’s usually so brutal about it. He remembers seeing parts of a live brain one time because Ghost had bashed their skull so badly and remembered having to shoot the person dead out of pity. But today? The intel was good, the man was still alive with almost all of his body parts; save for some of his teeth and nails and the chopped up finger,

and the raccoons.

They were alive and Ghost seemed to never have opened the cage at all.

—

When Ghost came home that month he heard his neighbour say something about a ‘little birthday celebration’ for tomorrow. He checked his watch and decided to walk to the bakery and get them some cake. That last operation went smoothly, and he has them to thank.

He can’t wait to hear what other mental things that will come out of their mouth in the future and apply them to his work.

[2smolbeans]

Part 1 Part 2 character info

Love Me, Love Me Not (2.5)

Yandere Best Friend x Obstacle Reader

Summary: You begin to contemplate your relationship with Marco after he's kept you long enough inside his apartment while sending you a few mixed signals..

Tags: One-sided relationship (?), potential poly with one yan and two poor darlings, kidnapping, hostage keeping, mixed feelings, yan best friend, belittling, isolation, nsfw implications, he's in love with his darling- but he's also interested with you.., just me rambling before I put part 3

*unedited

Disclaimer: This is just a scenario I thought of with an Oc! So nothing is really 'official' or canon to the orignal storyline--

_________________________

It's been what? Two months or so, ever since Marco had kept you locked up inside his cozy apartment. Every day is a blur. You always had a hard time telling what time or month it was. Same routine, same everything. It was tiringly comforting. It made you feel safe knowing what would happen. Marco would leave in the morning for work. You'd be left in the apartment to your own devices. Hours would pass, he'd come home, and you'd lock yourself in your room. You didn't have to worry about work. You didn't have to worry about chores. Your only worry was cleaning the place and looking pretty. But. That same routine was starting to eat at you. The desperation in something new was beginning to knaw at you. You wanted more. You felt like a zoo animal kept in captivity. You want to go outside to see the streets - hell to at least go inside a supermarket! Anything!

You're confused about the relationship that the two of you share. He hates you, but he wants you by his side. He often belittes you whenever he has the chance. Going out of his way to demean you with every chance he has. You want something? Well, why don't you go on your hands and knees and beg like the loyal dog you are? You want to talk to him? Well, why should he? Go on, convince him, and give him a reason why he should respond back to those dumb questions you're so persistent on asking.

But at the same time, he's clinging to you from the moment he gets home. Either sitting on the edge of your bed while he talks about his day at work. Cuddling right next to you without any say while you lazily switch through the tv channels. Or even on some nightly occasions, he's tightly snuggled up against you underneath the sheets of his bed. And on rare occasions.. He's often kissing the side of your neck with his hands in between your legs, whispering praises while he drinks in the sounds you make. Of course, only to then miserably make an excuse of how he was doing you a favor since he couldn't reciprocate those feelings for you. He was only making out with you out of pity! Wow, he must feel a lot of pity for you then for it to happen more than once...

What about your darling Marco?

You've asked him about it so many times. If he has her, then why is he doing those things with you? But, whenever you even bother bringing up the topic, he just shuts you up with a glare or threat. You're confused about him, and Marco, at times, seems confused about how he feels about you.. Oh well, it was a useless thought to dwell on. At the end of the day, Marco was a murderer who was soon going to kill you once he got tired of you. But what difference did it make? You were also one as well.. What better were you from him? Sure, you were pressured by him to commit the murders you did.. But you could've at least fought back? Why didn't you fight back? God, why couldn't you have tried to show some restraint? Your life or theirs, you should've at least died trying..

Does that matter anymore? You shouldn't care about that anymore. What's done is done. You should get over it. You don't care if you're being selfish. You want a fresh start. You want to be outside again. You look outside the window, looking down as you see the streets and people who walk around freely.

Just how long was this going to last?

.

.

.

__________________________