#alright that's enough from me now. if you've stayed for this long go drink some water-i know you havent hydrated in ages

[moonlit-orchid]

Normal people: vent about their feelings in a diary or blog post

Me: makes a whole ass zine at nearly midnight

[harunayuuka2060]

Teen MC: Uncle Luke! *hugging him*

Luke: Eh—

Simeon: *chuckles* Sorry, Luke. I think you weren't expecting that they would be a little bit taller than you.

Luke: Yes... Why does everyone have to be so tall...

Teen MC: Now that Uncle has mentioned that. *looking at him*

Teen MC: You're as short as I remembered. Do you never grow?

Luke: *blushes in embarrassment* H-Hey! Of course I will grow! *pouts*

Teen MC: Are you... sure?

Luke: *tries to sound stern* MC, I'm still your uncle.

Teen MC: ...

Teen MC: How tall are you exactly, Uncle?

Luke: MC!

Simeon: *chuckles* MC, stop teasing your Uncle Luke.

Luke: Hmph! I know you're making fun of me too, Simeon!

Simeon: Oh. I would never do that.

Teen MC: He certainly does.

Simeon: Hehe.

Luke: *pouts even more*

Teen MC: I'll help you carry your luggage, Uncle.

Luke: Thanks...

Simeon: MC? Can Papa ask you to prepare some drinks and snacks for us?

Teen MC: *nods* Yes. But Pa? Don't forget your doctor's appointment this afternoon.

Simeon: *smiles* Of course. Thank you for reminding me.

Simeon and Luke: *watch MC as they carry the luggage and goes to the room Luke is going to occupy*

Luke: ...

Luke: Simeon?

Simeon: Yes?

Luke: Why do you have a doctor's appointment?

Simeon: Oh. I've been having backpains lately. *chuckles* Maybe it's because I'm getting old and I'm starting to feel changes in my body.

Luke: Oh.

Luke: ...

Luke: Simeon, I know you've decided this a long time ago... But if given a chance, would you—

Simeon: No. I'm already satisfied with how things are.

Luke: I see. *smiles* I'm glad.

Satan: *helping MC to prepare snacks and drinks* How long is Luke going to stay here?

Teen MC: A few months. But I wish he would stay here for at least a year. I know how much he misses Papa.

Satan: ...

Satan: You should be cautious.

Teen MC: It'll be alright. I can trust uncle.

Satan: ...

Simeon: *showing his results to MC* See? Papa is completely healthy.

Teen MC: That's great, Pa.

Simeon: Does that mean we can go hiking? We can ask Luke and the others to join us.

Teen MC: Yes. But if I carry you, I'll carry you. No complaining.

Simeon: *sad frowns* However, Papa doesn't want to be a burden. *smiles* And I can still pull my weight.

Teen MC: It's not about pulling your own weight, Pa. I don't want you getting exhausted because of long walks.

Simeon: *chuckles* I can't argue with that.

Lucifer: *enters the room* Simeon? Barbatos would like to see you.

Simeon: Right now?

Lucifer: Yes.

Simeon: Okay. MC? Feel free to read any books you want. And oh! If you have any feedback, much better.

Teen MC: *nods*

Simeon: *smiles before leaving with Lucifer*

Teen MC: ...

Michael: ...

*One of MC's letters:

"I want to understand why my father turned into a human. Could it be because of me? If so, Uncle, please undo it or punish me in the same way."

Michael: ...

Michael: You're old enough to deserve a response.

Simeon: What is it, Barbatos?

Barbatos: ...

Barbatos: Have you noticed anything about your child?

Simeon: No. I would say everything seems normal. Why? Is there a problem?

Barbatos: I am not certain. Though I have a wild guess that your child is in contact with your former brother Michael.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: Why would MC communicate with him?

Barbatos: MC was just a child when you chose to be a human, Simeon. It might be that they're seeking for answers.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: Maybe I've been worrying my child without knowing.

Barbatos: ...

Barbatos: *smiles* Your child is just like you, Simeon. Worrying over something they have no control of.

Barbatos: However, that's not our concern right now.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: I'll try asking my child. They would never keep a secret from me.

Teen MC: ...

*Michael's letter to them:

"Your existence stems from a deeply regrettable act, one that is unacceptable for an angel.

That's the explanation I could only provide you."

Teen MC: ...

Teen MC: *sigh* What could that be...

Teen MC: *is thinking of asking Simeon but they're unsure if they should*

Teen MC: ...

Teen MC: It's not the time yet.

Teen MC: I want Papa to trust me that I would be able to handle everything.

Teen MC: A few more years should be enough.

Teen MC: ...

Teen MC: But if I fail to wait for an answer... I want to at least have enough wisdom to understand the situation.

[draftingnovels-imagines]

First Meeting \\ Werewolf x Reader + Vampire x Reader

Summary: The first meeting you have with your monster boyfriend

Tags: GN!Reader, Werewolf [full moon, trapped animal, bear traps (no wound descriptions), petting a werewolf, barista] / Vampire [high society events, waitressing, clumsiness, pet names, feasting, death (not graphic)]

Word Count: ~1200

Notes: I wanted to add a third "monster" in here but I couldn't figure out how to fit it in here. Maybe I'll introduce what I was thinking sometime later

Werewolf

The first time you lock your eyes is during a full moon.

You're making your way home. It's not that late, but it is rather cold outside. You're bundled up as best you can be in this weather. As you walk down the street, you hear an animal crying out in the brushes next to you. It's a loud, shrill sound. It sounds like it's in pain.

On any other day, you would have ignored the sound. However, something about it draws you close. It's probably a deer or something, right...? You go through the bushes to find a giant wolf. It towered over you, reaching up and away with fervor. Its leg was caught in a bear trap, and it looked rather bad. Nails dug into the dirt as it braced itself on a tree. Long fur swished as it tried its best to pull away and run, but it was to no avail. It howled again, loud and forlorn, before curling up. It looked resigned to its fate.

Then... it sees you.

It begins to snarl, bearing teeth and body shifting into a guarded stance. Was it truly angry or was it scared? You put your hands up. You don't mean any harm, but it doesn't know that. As you make your way over to the trap, it stays guarded but doesn't snap at you. It takes a minute, and a lot of strength, but you eventually open the trap and release the wolf. It limps out, standing at it's full, bipedal height. It suddenly dawns on you.

This is not a wolf. This is something else entirely.

For some reason, though. You're not scared. It's staring at you, lowering itself to be at eye-level. You reach out to pet it. It flinched at the thought of your touch, but eventually, it pressed its face into your hand. It's... warm, and fluffy. Like a large dog. You can't help but laugh. "Stay safe, alright?" You ask. It nods. Finally, it runs off into the night.

Probably one of the weirdest experiences you've had, but at least you saved it from whatever hunters put those traps up in the first place. You go to sleep to the sounds of howling. Before it was just annoying, but now you had a slight appreciation.

You wake up and go to a new coffee shop with a friend. They offered and there's no shame in trying something new!

It's packed. Clearly this is more of a hot spot than you two thought. The people behind the counter are working the hardest, but once catches your eye. He's at the counter is working on drinks for a moment before he comes up to the register. He looks tired, as if he didn't get much sleep the night before. His hair is messy and the bags underneath his eyes were deep.

"Hello. What can I get--" Once he focused on you, he cut himself off. His gaze felt familiar in a way you can't describe. You tilted your head in confusion.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's you. From last night. It's really you! I thought I'd never see you again." His grin is bright. You blink in confusion before you recognized him.

He's the wolf.

"Hey! You're holding up the line!" Someone shouts behind you. You look behind and see that the line is going out the door.

Maybe you two should have your reunion later.

Vampire

The first time you lock eyes, you see something you're not supposed to.

High-society events aren't your thing. The people they bring are somewhat selfish. Even so, tending tables was a good gig, especially at the most expensive venue in town. It paid enough and it allowed you to get a glimpse into a life you'd never have.

You make your way through the crowd, passing out hors d'oeuvres to anyone who wants. Some thank you, others turn their nose up to you and walk away. You've been working her for a while. At one point, the comments used to hurt you, but now they roll off your shoulders. This particular party is strange, though, but it's something you can't put your finger on. The guests are all affluent but mysterious. Some of these names you've never even heard of. Yet the clothes they wear and the people they're with clearly have more money that you've ever seen. As you deliberate on it and make your rounds, someone bumps into you. Luckily, you don't spill anything.

"I am so sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." He says, his tone seeming genuine. You chuckle. At least someone here was nice.

"It's fine. How are you finding our service here?" You ask, in your most customer-service tone.

"You don't need to talk to me like that, darling. I'm not above you."

Charming. Maybe asking him would get some answers. "Well, I am serving you and the rest of this party. Is it always this--"

"Dull? Oh, you have no idea. They try to have these galas once every few years, and yet they never really do anything with it!"

"I was going to say 'affluent.'"

"Oh." He clears his throat. "Er... yes. Sort of."

You briefly touch his hand and it's cold to the touch. He pulled away quickly, clearing his throat. "Already trying to get hands on me? You haven't even asked me my name yet." He chuckled. While he tried his best to be smooth, you could hear the nervousness in his voice. You went to ask, but were interrupted by your boss yelling at you for not being back.

Once meals are served, things settle down for you, save for refilling people's glasses. You're so close to getting a break! Unfortunately, you trip over one of the tablecloths and fall this time. The tray of wine glasses you're holding comes crashing down and makes a mess on the tile floor. You're not even sure what to do for a moment, frozen in shock. Other workers came and rushed you off, telling you to get a mop or something else to clean this all up. Luckily, your clothes weren't stained so you wouldn't have to get changed. Silver linings, right? Still, you go to the closet and pull on the knob. Locked.

...Locked? That doesn't make any sense. Why keep things locked up in case of a spill. Not thinking anything of that, you open the door.

You take in a breath and all you can smell is blood. It's pungent, and makes you cover your mouth. One of your coworkers, a girl you hadn't known well, lay still in the arms of a guy feasting on her neck. It's messy. It's repulsive. You can't even scream, it's so much. You just stand there in silence, eyes glued to the sight as he finishes the job. Once he's done, only then do you see his face.

It's one you were hoping not to see.

"It's you, darling."

[xinmin-exe]

Man I Am - Simon "Ghost" Riley

WARNINGS - creeps, swearing, threats of violence, alcohol, female reader, bad flirting, age gap (reader is early 20s, Simon is mid 30s), slightly tipsy reader (only unbalanced, nothing more), poorly written bar scenes, not proof read, Simon is probably OOC

Word count: 1301

I was, in fact, listening to "Man I Am" from the Barbie Movie while writing this

You had just turned 21 a couple months go and you and your friends wanted to go get drunk to celebrate passing a chemistry test. Your professor was an asshole who had one of the worst 'Rate my Professors' score you've ever seen. But you and your friends were somehow passing his class with a B+ so you felt like you earned a night of partying.

The night started out great. A couple rounds of shots, slow sipping on a drink and some dancing. It was wonderful. Until, this guy comes up with a couple of his friends and they are clearly drunk. They ask you and your friends to dance. While some of your friends are drunk enough to indulge the men, some aren't and politely decline their offer. You were sipping on a Long Island Iced Tea and you were getting tipsy but you held your alcohol well. But this one guy was just not taking "no" for an answer.

"C'mon baby, just one dance," the guy said while trying to put his hand on your waist. A poor attempt to pull you to him. You easily pushed his hand off and firmly said "No, I do not want to dance, now leave me alone." he huffed and walked away, but he kept staring at you. Like he was a predator, but in a bad way. You could feel his eyes on you and leaned over to your friends, saying that you guys should change bars because the vibes were off. Some of them wanted to stay, but some agreed that the vibes were off. So you made everyone who was staying share their locations with the others before telling them to be safe.

You and two other friends left the bar and opted to go to the one across the street. When you got into the new bar, you immediately felt so much better. You and your friends got some weaker drinks and went to go dance. Something that caught your eye was the group of men in the corner.

They all seemed like pure muscle and way out of your league. Based on the ones you could see clearly, they were all at least in their mid-30s. You kept glancing over at the one in the skull mask, but kept your glances quick. You guessed he was twice your age and kept dancing with your friends. Swaying and jumping around to the various pop artists on the speakers. But two things were unknown to you: 1. the man in the skull mask had noticed you as well. He was just as intrigued in you as you are in him, and 2. the creep from the last bar had followed you here.

Once the current song was over you heard "Man I Am" from the Barbie Movie come on and you nearly screamed in excitement. You and your friends wanted a round of shots so you offered to go get them. You walked up to the bar and patiently waited your turn.

"I'll be right with you!" the bartender said to you as she moved to make two beers for another person. While you waited you could feel someone standing too close behind you. You turned around to ask the person to backup a little but you let out a gasp instead. "Hi there sweetheart, why'd you leave me?" the creep asked as he grabbed your wrist. "I was just heartbroken," he said as his grip tightened.

"Please just leave me alone!" You shouted at him but he didn't budge. "alright love, what can I get for you?" the bartender asked. She took one look at you and the creep and somehow knew something was up. "A shot of the strongest you got," the creep said while keeping his eyes on you. You turned to the bartender with scared eyes and she knew.

"Can I see some I.D?" She asked him, He glared at her as he released your wrist, but shoved his knee in between your legs. He handed her his I.D and she began inspecting it. The creep groaned and yelled at her to hurry up. She told him she needed her manager to check his I.D because she thought it was a fake. She promised it would only take a moment and left. The creep turned back to you and his eyes began to trail your body and it made your skin crawl. He leaned in to smell you and you turned your head to the side in disgust and fear.

What you didn't see was that the group of men had taken notice of this whole interaction. The one with the skull mask decided he was done seeing you being harassed by some dick-less wonder. He set his drink down and stalked over to you. You heard one of his friends, with a heavy Scottish accent tell him to "go easy on the lad!" You couldn't help but look at him when you saw him walking your way.

Thankfully the creep hadn't noticed and suddenly, there was a 6'4 man made of pure muscle standing behind him.

"Let her go," the masked man's voice was low but it was commanding. The creep turned around and scoffed. "Who the hell are you?" the creep asked, but the masked man didn't answer. "Let her go and leave, before me and my mates throw you out," he threatened. The creep looked over to the direction of the other men and laughed, out loud in his face. "Grandpa, stay out of this before you get hurt," the creep told him casually before trying to turn his back.

But the masked man grabbed his forearm and twisted it behind his back. "I said to leave, so leave, before you get hurt." By now, the bartender and her manager had returned with the bouncers.

"Do we have a problem here gentlemen?" The manager asked, mainly looking at the creep. "No problem sir," the masked man let go of his arm and the creep let out a heavy breath. "Right?" He stared into the creep's soul and the creep nodded. "Right.. I was just leaving.." He said before stumbling his way out.

The masked man looked at you. He was silent before speaking. "You okay?" All you could do was nod as you felt intimidated by him. He stayed near you while the manager talked to you to ensure your safety and what they could do to help. The Manager had a printed out photo of the creep's I.D and stapled it to the wall of customers to throw out of the bar if they came back. The masked man offered to buy you a drink which you politely declined. He nodded and asked to at least let him walk with you back to your friend group. This you accepted; you were scared and frankly having him near you made you feel better.

Your friends rushed to you with worry as they began asking you if you were alright. They had all seen what had occurred after you were gone for a little too long for their liking. They elbowed you as they glanced at the masked man who escorted you back. You ignored their snickers and smirks as you turned to address the man.

"Thank you! I appreciated you rescuing me back there," You told him with a kind smile. His mask covered his face, but you could see the smile lines near his eyes. "You're welcome," he said to you. He turned to leave but before he did, he pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it before handing it to you and walking back to his group of friends.

It read "in case you need saving again, Ghost" with his number.

[pathetic-sapphic]

Sick Sevika HC's

With all the work and running around that she does, Sevika cannot get sick. She doesn't have the time and she cannot afford it.

And yet, here she is, lying on your couch, sick as a dog. She already tried to sneak out of bed, thinking that you were asleep and that you won't notice her cute sniffles or muffled coughs.

Little did she know, you saw this coming. When she came home the night before, she was uncharacteristically quiet and looked a lot more worn down than she does after a long day at work. You tried to ask if she's alright and if she's hurt but she just brushed it off. You knew something was truly wrong when she hadn't eaten all of her dinner. Now she loves your cooking and she is honest enough that she'd tell you if you used too much or too little spice or if it was undercooked. Instead, she just said that she's not very hungry and went off to shower, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Then when you both went to sleep, you noticed she was a lot warmer than normally. Don't get me wrong, that woman is a furnace but you've slept in her embrace way too many times to not take note of her unusually high temperature.

Well figuring that she's going to try and ignore her sickness and sneak off to work like nothing is wrong, you managed to wake up a bit earlier than usual. After waiting for her to get out of bed, you also got up to prepare some medicine and your best reasonings for why she should stay at home.

At first she scoffed at you and tried to convince you that she is perfectly healthy, but she saw from your angry and stubborn hands-on-hips stance that you saw right through her and, knowing you, you weren't going to let this go no matter what she says.

''Fine, but I'm only taking today off.'' ''Shut up and eat your soup, Sev.''

Will never admit it but she's thoroughly enjoying you taking care of her like a mother hen. She never had someone worry this much or care about her wellbeing. She especially likes it when you check her temperature by softly bringing your lips to her sweaty forehead.

At the same time, she feels quite useless. She loves being the protector and the provider, so she feels quite lost once the roles are reversed.

You make sure she's all bundled up and comfortable on your couch. You remind her to take her medicine and drink plenty of water. You cook some delicious chicken soup and soothing tea or milk and honey for her throat. You make her a lovely, relaxing bath and softly wash her hair.

When you refuse to let her smoke while she's sick, she honest to God whines. This would be perfect blackmail but even if you tell anyone, they wouldn't believe you.

When nighttime comes, you offer to sleep on the couch so she can sweat out her fever and sleep in peace but of course, she won't let you.

''But Sev, what if I get sick?'' ''I'll take care of you baby, don't you worry your pretty little head about it.'', she'd try to convince you. You'd sigh and get into bed with her, knowing that she can't even make simple soup with burning down your kitchen.

This continues for a couple more days, even if she was convinced she'll get better after one day. You take care of her and spoil her rotten. Because of this, as big of a workaholic that she is, she doesn't want to go back to work.

If only you two could stay like this forever, taking care of each other, cuddling and sleeping in. But alas, duty calls and soon she is nursed back to health and goes back to her usual routine.

But that's okay, because she knows that no mater how many times she gets hurt or sick, you'll be there to take care of her and love her endlessly.

After all, you did make a promise to one another; in sickness and in health...

[the-guilty-writer]

Sleepless Seattle

Request from anon: hotch x reader who has insomnia? maybe with;  “Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night.  Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

Aaron Hotchner x platonic!reader

Summary: When you can't sleep, you work, and a certain Unit Chief notices you've been working a little too much.

A/N: cheesy title, I know, but it works and it makes sense so we're going with it.

CW: reader has mild depression, talks about medication, medication changes, medication side effects

---

There were certain things in life that could be deemed necessary evils- taxes, politicians, and medication changes just to name a few. Currently the latter was kicking you in the ass.

Your depression was mild enough that it didn’t disturb your daily life until it did- you’d be okay for a while and then spend weeks on end just going through the motions, alive but not truly living. Medication helped significantly, to the point that you could go a few years without falling into the darkness, but sometimes they would slowly stop working. It would start with feeling more fatigued than normal and escalate to feelings of emptiness.

And then you’d have to go through a dreaded medication change.

You’d once heard that psychiatric medications were a crap shoot- the doctor would prescribe something and hope it would work, and when it didn’t they would try something else. That cycle would repeat until they found a drug that did it's job. You were lucky enough that you’d been able to take the same medication for nearly three years before it started to lose its effect, but now that it had stopped working, you were thrown into the chaos of trial and error in an attempt to find some new drug that would help stabilize your mood.

You’d been on this new one for about two months, and so far it was better than the last one you had tried, but it still wasn’t ideal. When you first started it, the dizziness hit you like a truck for a few days. After it subsided it hadn’t come back. Now the only side effects you were experiencing were a mild change in appetite and some pretty terrible insomnia.

You could fall asleep, but after about two hours you’d wake up and be unable to get any more shut-eye for a few hours. It seemed pointless to waste waking hours staring at the ceiling trying to fall asleep when you knew you weren’t going to- so you worked. The hotel you were staying at was right across the street from the Seattle field office, so you packed up your files and walked the short distance in the dark. It was the third night you had done this, so the night security guard just gave you a smile and a nod as you entered the building.

The evidence board was nearly full. You studied it carefully, picking apart every detail of every scene, jotting things down on a blank white board, but you still couldn’t get anywhere. As much as you hated to admit it, the team would probably have to wait for another victim to turn up in order to complete the profile. Still, you kept working. Rain pounded on the roof and clouds blocked out the sun, which is how you ended up losing track of time. Before you knew it, you were on your fourth cup of coffee and the rest of the team was arriving at the office.

“Watch out, Reid,” Morgan joked as he entered the room. “(Y/L/N) is trying to outdo you on the amount of coffee they can drink during this case.” He threw away your several empty styrofoam cups for you.

“How long have you been here?” Hotch asked you as he sat down at the table, ready to review the same evidence again and hoping he would notice something new.

“A couple hours,” you downplayed. “I’m going to get more coffee. Anyone need a refill?”

The murmur of “No thank you” and “I’m good, thanks” answered you as the team got to work and you left to go to the coffee station. You hadn’t even noticed your boss had followed you until you had set up the machine to brew.

“(Y/L/N),” Hotch started. “Is everything alright?”

You replied casually. “Yeah, this case is just making me antsy. That’s all.” It was a lie, and Hotch had been a profiler long enough and knew you well enough to catch it. The coffee finished brewing and you poured yourself a cup, adding in some creamer before turning to go back to the room where the rest of the team was.

But Hotch was standing in your way. The frown on his face was more pronounced than it usually was; the look in his never-blinking eyes less serious and more concerned than normal.

“(Y/N).” The sound of your boss using your first name made you stop. “Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night.  Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

You felt your face blanch. “I went to bed when the team got to the hotel last night.” That was the truth.

Hotch’s expression took on a level of seriousness again. “How long did you sleep for?”

“Two hours. Maybe three?” You looked down, unable to meet his stare. “It’s just a side effect of my new medication. I’m fine, really. My doctor said it should go away in a few weeks.”

Hotch sighed quietly and held out his hand. Reluctantly, you gave him your fresh coffee. He emptied it in the sink and tossed the cup into the trash can. “No more coffee. You can work on the case until you feel tired, but once you do, you need to get some sleep.”

There was no point in arguing. The two of you walked back to the evidence room and began working. The combination of the gray sky through the window and the quiet of the room began to make you feel sleepy. You yawned, your eyes beginning to feel heavy and your limbs feeling fatigued.

Hotch looked at you from across the table. He nodded his head toward the couch in the room- an unspoken “go lay down.”

You closed your work and walked lazily to the couch, flopping down on it and closing your eyes. Within minutes you were sleeping peacefully on the old sofa, your soft breathing and the shuffling of papers were the only sounds in the room.

[grape-marbles]

A smutty story I wrote with no names mentioned.

It was a late Saturday night, I was on the couch almost asleep while watching some shitty tv show I was recommended and drinking some wine when my beautiful girlfriend walked in and sat down next to me. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, gently rubbing my shoulder and noticing how tired I was.

"Hey honey, how was your day? You look tired, can I get you anything?"

"It was alright love, I'm just a little sleepy, that's all." But that wasn't all, it never was. In reality yes I was tired, but I also had a lot of built up needs that were causing me a lot of stress. It'd been so long since I was last able to feel her soft, long, warm hands inside of me hitting every spot I could possibly hope for. It had been so long since I'd even seen her like this that every touch of hers was causing the heat to pool between my thighs. Every rub of my shoulder, her arm around me, the way she was leaning ever so slightly up against me, all of it was driving me crazy. I needed her. I needed it more than anything.

"Something else seems to be the matter, what is it that my boy needs"

"Well...well um...I need you. I need to feel you touching me and inside of me and um..." I nervously trail off. I shouldn't be as ashamed to tell her what I want, but I'm just so flustered and embarrassed I can't help it.

She readjusts, turning so one arm stays on my shoulder, and her other hand starts to make it's way to my jeans, she sticks her hand down but hooks her thumb on the waistband of my jeans teasingly, getting oh so close to what I want but not close enough. "Is this what you were wanting honey?" She asked teasingly, a smirk on her lips and a devious glint in her eye, as if she's looking down on me and knows she can get exactly what she wants out of me so effortlessly.

"Oh come on, you know that isn't what I meant! Stop teasinggg!" I whined, knowing I was probably going to get in trouble, after all, she's in charge and I don't get to make demands. It also doesn't help that I didn't use her honorific.

She moved her hand from my shoulder onto my throat, slowly but forcefully, reminding me who's in charge and who I belong to. "Oh? You don't get to make demands my darling slut. And you know what to call me. Now if you'd like to try again you absolutely can. Be a good boy and remember who's in charge here."

"I'm sorry Mommy! Please be so generous as to move your hand down. Please! I need to feel you slide your fingers in and out of me! I need you to make me cum on your hand. Please Mommy make me feel good!"

"See? I knew you could do it. You're such a good slut for me begging like that. Still I feel like you need to be punished." She then grabbed me by the hair and laid me over her lap. I knew from how we were positioned what was going to come next. "Now, you're gonna count how many times I smack your ass, and if you stop counting we're going to start over. Don't worry, since it was a minor offense it won't be too many." She brought her hand up high and then quickly brought it back down onto me, making a loud smacking sound. I had to try hard not to let out a moan and let her know I was enjoying it.

"O..One" she brought her hand back down on me again "T...Two..ngh~" and it continued until she had done it 10 times. I could tell my ass would be very red and it would be painful to sit. She got up and flipped me over so that I was lying on my back. She moved over to the other end of the couch and positioned herself between my legs.

"Now since you're doing a good job taking me I might just give you what you've been wanting. But it'll be my way, under my terms and conditions. First things first, before I begin to please you I want you to please me." She takes off her shirt and starts to unbuckle her belt and I can tell exactly what she wants from me. She finished unbuckling her belt and she takes the rest of her clothes off, revealing her throbbing erection. She crawls over to me with a smirk and positions herself in a way that will make what comes next extremely easy on her end.

She begins to place herself into my mouth, slowly and gently, so gently in fact that I'm lulled into a false sense of security that she won't be too rough on me. She puts it all in and then slams herself so far it hits the back of my throat. She starts thrusting, in and out, in and out. She picks up a fast and harsh rhythm, forcing herself in and out of my mouth while I gag. She gently caresses my face while she does it, whispering praises about how well I'm taking her and how good of a slut I am. I start to feel tears prick my eyes while I gag on her and I look up to meet her gaze. We lock eyes and she immediately climaxes down my throat and I gratefully drink every last drop that she gives me.

"You do such a good job at taking me. Such a good slut swallowing all of my cum for me. You don't even have to be told what to do, you already know. You're my good little boy. Now it's my turn to please you." She goes back down, between my legs, and tells me to take my shirt off while she undoes my pants and slides them off. She hovers over me and pins both of my wrists to the couch with one hand, the other going to my soft breast while her mouth meets mine. She kisses me slowly and passionately, while groping my chest and pinching my nipple making me moan softly into her mouth. She removes her lips from my mouth and starts trailing down my neck, sucking, kissing, biting. She starts leaving marks all over my neck while I start to get louder and louder for her. She moves down my neck to my collarbone, then down to my breasts, down my stomach and to my thighs. She leaves marks everywhere she goes, claiming me as purely hers.

She then hooks my legs over her shoulders and brings her hands down to where I begged of her earlier. She starts rubbing my sensitive nub in slow circular motions, and then quickly picks up speed, drawing loud pleasure filled noises out of me. While doing that with her thumb she slid her middle two fingers inside of my tight entrance, slamming them into me making me scream-moan several swears. She continues doing this, hitting everything just right and making me almost cry from the pleasure she brings me. When I feel my climax approach I start babbling that I'm about to cum. Suddenly she stops. She's denying me the orgasm I swore I had earned.

"Aww you thought you were gonna be allowed to cum? Already? Of course not sweet boy. I gotta make you wait a bit longer. After all I never said your punishment was over."

She repositions herself with her face between my legs. She takes a long lick from my hole all the way up to my sensitive spot. She starts sucking on it and making me squirm while I moan softly. She licks it again before speaking.

"Come on hun, it's alright, you can be louder than that." She then licked all the way down to my hole, shoving it inside and starting to fuck me with her tongue. "Darling you're delicious, I'm having so much fun down here. Also it's always a plus to have you squirming for me." She continues shoving her tongue deep inside, then licking back up and sucking on my clit, swapping motions until my legs start shaking signaling me being about to finish once again. She takes her tongue away, once again denying me my release.

"Aww you believed again that I would let you finish? Where's the fun in that? I gotta keep you on your toes Honey. You're doing such a good job taking Mommy though so I'll give you a treat."

She picks me up and carries me to our shared bedroom and places me down on the bed while I'm confused. She digs through our nightstand and finds handcuffs. She grabs my wrists and puts them behind my back in the cuffs and locks them tight. She gets close, between my legs and lines herself up with my entrance. I wrap my legs around her for stability while she slams herself in and makes me scream out her name. She starts roughly slamming herself into me at a steady pace, holding me down and fucking me as if she's been deprived and can't hold back. She continues with this motion and I squeeze her waist with my legs and shove her even deeper into me.

"Fuck Mommy can I please cum this time? Please! Fuck~ I need it please! Please Mommy please let me cum. I'll be good I swear. Fuck you're hitting so deep ngh~ I can't take it please!" My legs were shaking and I was babbling like an idiot, begging her to finally let me finish. I needed my release, needed it. I needed her to give this to me.

"Fine darling. I suppose you have been on your best behavior. Third time is the charm too. You're such a good slut for me taking my hands, my tongue, my cock. You'd let me do anything if it meant you got to cum huh?"

"Yes Mommy! I'd let you do anything! I'll be your good slut, I promise."

She continued to thrust into me, now at an even rougher and faster pace. She kept going and going with my legs shaking and me screaming out her name and how good it felt. She kept on until I felt her shoot her liquid into me and I screamed out a final time as I finished onto her cock. It was the most intense orgasm I have ever felt. My legs were shaking and I was panting so hard I felt like I couldn't breathe. Everything just felt so much better now that my needs had been taken care of. I also love the feeling of having her cum fill me up and mark me as her property. I was appreciative and grateful for everything that she gave me.

"Did you enjoy it honey?" She asked as she undid my handcuffs.

"I always enjoy it when you destroy me Mommy."

"Good, now let's get you cleaned up and go to bed."

[nxathyx]

Hiiiii! Could I request when tecchou’s s/o’s love language is worrying to mucho for him?

I legit forgot an inbox exists sorry for being late <33

Gn!reader x Tecchou Suehiro

Tw: cursing, mentions of reader pulling all nighters, other than that it's just fluff

°he'd definitely be a bit confused why you're so worried

"tecchou, im worried about you, you've been away from home a lot more"

"im the strongest hunting dog you needn't worry🙂

°if you cook for him because you're worried about him not eating enough he appreciates it so fucking much like oh my lord

° would definitely be worried if you stay up late at night and wait for him to get back from work

° would hug you and apologise for being away and worrying you too much

° whenever he's away he texts you every single day or calls you just to tell you he's indeed alright

° would get worried about you worrying about him too much

° 100% tries to reassure you on a daily basis that he is okay, however he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate how much you worry about him

° would definitely allow you to bandage his wounds if it makes you feel better

° at first he tried just not telling you how badly he was injured during a mission but after some time he realised it caused you to worry even more so now he's open about it with you, showing you the scars and trying to reassure you that he's fine and has a high durability

° okay if you're also a hunting dog I just imagine everyone looking at you two like "🤨😐🙁😒

"you could've gotten hurt, you idiot. Do you not realise how worried about you I was?"

"im sorry, my love. But I'm here with you now, aren't i? I'm alright, not even a single injury"

"can you two like.. Stfu??"

You and Tecchou have been dating for quite a bit now. He's a hunting dog causing him to be away from home more often than not, which leaves you worried and stressed about his health, both mental and physical.

The clock was about to trike 1 am as you were sat on the couch, drinking a cup of coffee, wearing one of Tecchou's basic white t-shirts as you enjoyed the taste of the bitter liquid running down your throat. You didn't know when Tecchou would come home, and that thought worried you even more as you're leg started bouncing up and down slightly in anxiety as you continued to await your lovers arrival. You looked back at the clock.. 1.34 am. And he's still not back, by this point you finished your cup of coffee as you stood up from the sofa to go and rinse the cup out, deciding you'll just leave it in the sink and wash it in the morning, as you were leaving the kitchen you heard the front door getting opened with the house key, happily and excitedly you walked over to the door, basically throwing yourself at Tecchou as soon as he closed the door behind himself.

"hm.. Why aren't you in bed yet? I think I told you to not wait for me all night long again" he said a bit quietly, he seemed tired as his arms wrapped around your waist, his palms resting on your lower back

"i know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't help but worry about when you'd get back" you replied looking at him before frowning slightly. "you look exhausted.. C'mon let's go to bed" you said as you grabbed Tecchou's fingers, leading him up the stairs into your shared bedroom, taking his hat and cape off of him, placing it on a random chair

Tecchou just smiled a little and complied before taking some clean pijamas and going to the bathroom to change into them, coming back a bit later to see you already sat in your bed, just waiting for him to accompany you. He layed down beside you, placing his head on you stomach, as one of his hands went to your hip, he sighed contently as he felt your hand go into his hair and playing with the brown locks, making him close his eyes.

"you worry me too much.."

"i know.. I'm sorry dear" there was peaceful silence for a bit before he spoke quietly "I love you" he said taking your other hand in his, bringing it closer to his mouth as he placed delicate, Angel like kisses on the back of your hand, fingers, and knuckles.

"i love you too"

[wordsinhaled]

okay. okay. this would be like, 300% tragic pining behavior from hob, and also not to be that person who creates an OC, but. but i can’t get it out of my brain now, so...

i’m thinking about how dream left his coat and his hat and his gloves behind in 1889, and i mean, of course hob keeps the clothes. of course he does. but what if. what if hob starts picking up men to bring home who look kind of sort of enough like his stranger if the candlelight hits them right, and asking them to wear dream’s clothes??? (and, of course, keeping them in as pristine condition as possible, in between)

and like, the men hob takes home are a bit confused by hob’s level of Intensity and Specificity about this request (act like you've known me for five hundred years, but don't speak much; act haughty and aloof, but if i ever mention us being friends, don't deny it)—but hob's really easy on the eyes and they’re being paid handsomely, and hob has a posh london townhouse, and most of the time, what hob is paying them to do is mainly to sit and drink wine and have dinner with him while he talks—so they don’t really ask questions about whatever illusion he's trying to maintain

half the time he doesn’t even take them to bed, and then afterwards he lets them stay the rest of the night and have breakfast the next day before they have to leave, so it's a bit of a sweet deal really

maybe hob's reputation as oddly eccentric and generous in his tastes almost starts to precede him, and so when he goes looking for someone he gets approached himself

sometimes hob cries into his wine glass and they don't really know what to make of that

and maybe there's one person in particular hob stumbles upon who looks quite a bit like his stranger (even though no one can be an exact likeness, otherworldly as dream is), and he also has a nice voice, and hob's breath catches and his heart clenches and he, basically, acts a fool about it

he makes love to this man. touches him with shaking hands. this man's never been touched like this by anyone before, so reverent, and he maybe falls a bit in love with hob that night, you know??? they have breakfast in bed together the next day. hob looks like he's seen a ghost the entire time but also a bit like some part of him is actually home for the first time in months. before the man leaves hob asks for his name and finds out it's aidan (and isn't it nice to get the name of a lover when asked, and some part of hob heals from that, too)

and like, maybe he seeks aidan out again, and a third time, and they become regular lovers and they actually Properly get to know each other, and then they fall in love and aidan comes to live with him. aidan has known from the first that there's someone else out there for hob, but he understands and hob is after all easy to fall in love with. hob is growing and changing and becoming softer and more compassionate during this time of his life. aidan helps him let go of some of his old hurts. hob doesn't love aidan the way he loves dream but then, he won't ever love anyone else the way he loves dream, and that's alright. aidan becomes one of the great loves of hob's many lifetimes in his own way, in a way hob had never expected

in the modern day, he still has the coat and the hat and the gloves but he holds onto them now until such time as dream comes back to get them, and he paid a historical clothing conservationist to restore them

years later, after aidan is long gone, and dream and hob are reconciled and kindling a relationship, dream is nosing around hob's living room (as he does; we know dream loves to look at people's photographs and pick up on their dreams). and maybe he comes across some letters hob and aidan had written back and forth to each other. he doesn't even read them (he respects hob's privacy), but just by touching them lightly he can tell the letters are steeped in this great wholesome sort of love and also in all of hob's wistfulness that he'd felt during that time. he can tell from them that aidan had been good to hob, good for hob, but also all the dreams hob had had, wrapped up in that relationship, and what it had meant to him

of course the letters sparks a conversation, because dream is Nosy Like That. it's a secret hob has held onto, that he used to ask people to wear dream's clothing in the 1890s, and i can't decide if he'd be dead embarrassed to ever tell dream, or perhaps he'd be unapologetic about it; after all, he's hob gadling. either way they have a Talk (or maybe several), and the secret comes out, as well as the fact that hob still has dream's coat and hat and gloves perfectly preserved in his house, and hob is like, "god, you must think i'm absolutely mental," but dream hasn't said a single word of judgment, he's just Looking at him, very intently

and all this culminates in dream offering to have them reenact that night in 1889 in the dreaming and have it go a different way. it's in the dreaming, so they can wear the same clothes they wore, the night can feel, and begin, exactly the same way. except this time, when hob offers dream his friendship, he accepts it. and this time, when hob leans in to kiss him, dream kisses him back. and this time, hob gets to ask dream back to his townhouse the way he'd wanted to back then, and take those clothes off of dream, and lay him out in his bed and make love to him the way he'd always wanted to, and it's a gorgeous experience for both of them really

hob wakes up the next morning from this dream, feeling like a new person because this healed something in him, and dream is lying stretched out on top of hob's covers next to him, watching him softly as he wakes, and dream asks, "was it all that you wanted?"

"yes," hob says, and he's grinning so big his face hurts, "thank you"—if he says it a little soppily, well, no one's there to hear it but dream, right?

"it is i who should be thanking you," dream says, very seriously. "it was everything i wanted as well, all this time."

and... it's very cathartic and also very hot and they love each other a stupid amount, the end

[seasonsbloom]

heaven is a place. hangman

pairing ; jake seresin x female!reader

synopsis ; hangman gives you something to think about, and then you stop thinking.

wc ; 3k

warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; explicit language, explicit sexual content (semi-public, mentions of oral m receiving, spanking, some making out, grinding, mostly just sexual tension), there is explicit consent in this but both of them are a lil drunk so...?

note: .... oh god I don't know? no beta we die like goose and carole and iceman and any other parental figure in bradley's life except tom cruise because he has a deal with the devil apparently

If you were any more familiar with the guidelines of Californian criminal law, you might be able to predict just how many years you will spend behind bars. As is, all you know is that you're about half a minute and one crooked smirk away from committing actual homicide.

"This is a horrible idea," you say, staring at the bottleneck pointing right at you. A dawning sense of horror tips the pitch of your voice onto an upward trajectory. "Do not lock me in a storage closet with Hangman."

By all accounts, you should have known that playing spin the bottle with this group of people would end in disaster. But maybe you've had a drink or two too many (so what?), and maybe the whole staying at a bar after closing thing had gone to your head (okay?), and, yeah, alright, maybe you'd sort of been hoping you might get to make out with Fanboy once, just to test your theory about quiet ones and tongues (can you really be blamed for that?). Can't the universe cut a girl some slack?

Apparently not, seeing as here you are, smack-dab in an actual nightmare. You are a grown woman who should have known better, and you have no one to blame for this but yourself.

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" Payback asks, grinning until he catches sight of your death glare across the table. "Right. Don't answer that."

There's a commotion as several chairs are scraped back. You catch sight of Hangman himself getting up, smirk in place, fingers hooked into his belt loops. Immediately, your eyes focus back on the condensation stains on your coaster. Things always go a little haywire when you look at him for too long.

"I'm not going," you say as you feel somebody stepping up behind you, and you preemptively grab onto the sides of your chair until you feel your knuckles straining against the skin. "You can't make me."

"That's where you're wrong," Natasha sing-songs, and then your chair is abruptly yanked backward with enough force it tips onto the rear legs, and your own feet lift into the air. You yelp.

Bradley's face appears above you, looking a tad sheepish, and he says, "Sorry."

Traitor, you think, but get beaten to it by a wolf whistle from Payback. "Get her, Trace."

You don't have time to react before she has you by the arm, still grinning like the cat that got the cream. Or the devil that got the soul. "Natasha Trace," you protest, making a grab for your glass and missing narrowly as she drags you out of your seat. "Let me go right now."

Usually, dropping her real name into a conversation has some kind of impact on Phoenix. Right now, though, she seems to be having way too much fun to let herself be stopped by the mere insinuation of your wrath.

"No way," Natasha says between peals of laughter. "Fate has decided."

"It's an empty beer bottle, dude. That's not fate."

"Semantics." She's steering you toward the Hard Deck's storage room by the elbow, completely ignoring any attempts of resistance you put up. Your heels, digging into the floor, scrape audibly across the hardwood floors, and honestly, no fair with all that stupid Navy training. If you had biceps like her, you'd be hightailing it out of here by now. "Just go like a lady, man. Even Seresin isn't being this difficult."

Which is suspicious, honestly, but you don't have time to think about it. The dark rectangle of the doorway looms before you like a gate to hell. You change tactics. "Trace," you say, blinking rapidly as she pushes you on and on, "I'll buy your drinks for a week."

No reaction.

"A month?"

No reaction.

"Okay, let me check my bank account and I'll go up to a year, yeah, come on, man, I…."

You've reached the doorway.

"Sorry, girl," Natasha says, and she doesn't sound sorry at all. "No deal. This is for your own good."

Then she pushes you into the darkness, and the door slams shut behind you. The lock turns with a resounding click.

"And I'm bumping your time up to fifteen minutes," Natasha calls through the door, sounding so cheerful it turns your stomach. "Just for being annoying."

For a second, you just stand there, arms dangling by your side, mouth slightly agape, trying to wrap your mind around the absolute betrayal you've just experienced from someone who's supposed to be your best friend. Then the shadows to your right move, and Hangman says, "So. Come here often?"

You flinch. "Jesus Christ," you mutter. "You wanna give me a heart attack?"

"Depends on the context."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Your eyes are still adjusting to the darkness, but you think you see a movement that reminds you of a shrug. "I wouldn't want to give you a heart attack in a football stadium or anything. I would, however, want to give you one in bed."

Your mind whirrs, then you think, Hold on a minute. You spit, "You want to murder me in bed?"

Hangman splutters. "That's not what I… I mean…"

You let him have it out with himself, testing the doorknob instead. It won't budge, not that you really expected it to. With a sigh, you drop your head against the door for a second, resigning yourself to your fate. You know Natasha too well to think banging on the door, begging to be let out, would do anything. That girl is stubborn as a mule. From outside, you hear the low hum of the music, the excited chatter of your friends.

This was supposed to be a good night.

"... besides," Hangman is saying as you tune back in, "You hardly know me anyway, it's not like…."

"Oh, give it up, Hangman," you mumble. You turn to face him, even though that doesn't really matter with the lack of a lightbulb, and lean against the wall, crossing your arms. You're beginning to recognize the outline of things, of half-empty beer crates and abandoned mops. "I hate you. I'm never going to sleep with you."

He huffs. "You don't know what you're missing out on."

"What's there to miss? A three-minute rut and an STD? You probably couldn't find the clit even if you would ever bother trying to look for it." You rub your hand across your forehead, suddenly exhausted by this incessant, infernal back and forth between Hangman and you. You've been turning in circles for so long that it's giving you motion sickness. "Let's just sit out the next seven minutes and not talk, please? Your voice makes me want to smash my head into a wall."

There is nothing but silence for a while, and you're so grateful you consider a sudden religious epiphany just to have some higher entity to send a gift basket to. Then Hangman's voice sounds once more from the darkness, "You're a brat."

You open your mouth to retort something scathing, but a hand on your waist stops you. Long fingers curve around your hipbone, press into your flesh gently, and even over the layers of your clothes, the touch makes you shiver. When Hangman speaks next, his voice is much closer.

"Do you even know why you hate me?"

"What the fuck are you doing, Hangman?" you choke out from between grit teeth, and to your own horror, your voice sounds just a bit breathless. "Are you going crazy?"

He chuckles, that sound that haunts your darkest dreams and worst days. "Well, do you? Know?"

His fingers wander up your flank, tracing your rib bones like he's tracing piano keys. Your brain shortcircuits. 

"I… I…” Your stuttering is cut short before it can really take off as Hangman's nose knocks against yours, as his breath ghosts hot across your mouth. "What are you doing?"

He pauses. "You want me to stop?"

The silence hangs between you, thick and mounting. You breathe once, twice, assess the situation. There's nothing threatening about Hangman, nothing between you but the certainty that he'd listen if you told him to stop. Only. Maybe. Maybe you don't want that? Which just solidifies the suspicion building inside you: You must be going crazy.

Slowly, you shake your head.

Hangman accepts the answer with a hum and a drumming of his fingers into the spaces between your ribs. "So what about my question then? Why do you hate me?"

"I don't... I'm not..."

"I changed my mind. Don't answer that. I don't even wanna know," he mutters, his voice a rumble in his chest, and he's so close you can almost feel it rattling your own ribcage. "I bet you wouldn't even know how to. I bet you don't understand anything you feel when you see me."

Here's what you should say: Yeah, I do understand what I feel when I see you, Hangman. It's hatred. Pure fucking hatred. I hate everything about you, your stupid smirk and your stupid mouth and your stupid white teeth and your stupid blond hair and how you look like the actor Greta Gerwig would have cast for Ken if she were a fucking Republican. Every time I see you, I fantasize about punching you. 

Instead, you can't find a single word. Your mind is wiped clean, your head an empty chamber echoing the sound of his voice. A loud exhale fills the space between you.

"But I know how I feel when I see you," he goes on. "I know what I wanna do to you. You wanna hear, duchess?"

You can just so bite down on a whine at the sound of that name, hips rocking forward half an inch. It's a mess. You're dizzy, the darkened silhouettes you can make out swimming around the room as if your field of vision has been flooded. In your chest, your heart is beating up a storm.

The worst part is the insistent, horrible thrum of want in the pit of your stomach. That tugging between your legs.

What the fuck is happening?

"I won't go on unless you tell me to," Jake says. One of his hands comes up to pinch your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Come on, baby. Tell me."

You release a shuddering breath. Is there not enough oxygen in this room or something?

"Tell you what?" you ask, some pathetic, desperate attempt to preserve some of your dignity. A last stand for your sanity.

Those fingers on your ribcage curl around your side, squeeze a little tighter, and your self-restraint escapes you on a gasp. "You wanna hear," Jake repeats, his voice slow, his words clear, as if he thinks you're some idiot who won't understand him, and god, you should hate him, you do hate him, this is Jake fucking Seresin after all, the goddamn bane of your existence, the object of all your fistfighting desires (and fuck you especially, Anthony Bridgerton), only right now you also think you'd sell all your earthly possessions just to get him to keep talking to you like this, and when the fuck did that even happen, "all the things I wanna do to you?"

If you could remember Natasha Trace's name right now, you'd be cursing her.

But you're also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to... Yeah, that one's definitely not appropriate in this situation.

"Okay," you say, your voice barely more than a whisper, your hands trembling where they're curled against the wood of the door, "alright."

Jake's chuckle has your toes curling in your sneakers. "Ah, no, duchess. I'm not gonna make it that easy. How am I supposed to know you really want it?"

You blink. "Well… I… huh?"

"You gotta ask nicely," Jake says, and you just know he's smirking. Can see the shape of it through the darkness, as if his mouth is slathered in neon paint. Can hear it in his voice.

"No," you protest, but it's so weak you wonder if he even heard. At this point, it seems obsolete anyway.

Jake's fingers let go of your chin, tracing up the side of your face instead, over your cheekbone, the slant of your mouth, and then down. His thumb presses into the dip of your cupid's bow, then against your lower lip. You grit your teeth before you do something stupid like sucking on it. Or getting on your knees.

"Be a good girl," Jake whispers, "and beg."

If there was any common sense left in you, those words burn it right out of your synapses. A fever thrums through your veins.

You're speaking before you realize it, words a little slurred by the pressure of his thumb on your lip. "Please," you say, in a voice that barely sounds like your own. "Please."

Any slither of dignity you might still have left evaporates on the spot. And good fucking riddance, too.

He hums. "Almost there. Please, who?"

Well, now he's just being mean.

But then his thumb digs a little more insistently, and your mouth drops open, and you're tasting the salt of his skin, and who the fuck ever needed dignity anyway? What an outdated concept when you could be getting dicked down in the Hard Deck's storage room instead.

"Please, Jake," you whimper. And then once more, for good measure, "Please, Jake."

Suddenly there's the pressure of his chest solid against your own, hip bone knocking against hip bone, thigh slipping between thighs. His thumb sinks into your mouth, and now you can't do anything but suck on it, wrap your lips around it, take it as deep as he'll allow. Your brain shuts off entirely. Windows sound and all. Black screen. Fuck sleep mode.

His nose rubs over your cheekbone, strokes to your ear, followed by the wet drag of his mouth, and you tip your head to the side to give him better access, pliant and boneless and moldable. "First," he whispers into your ear, and his exhale tickles, "I'd get you on your knees for me. Would you do that, hmm? Get on your knees and show me how good of a girl you can be? Suck me off real good, get me all wet with your spit, and fucking behave for once?"

Your mouth feels dry, even as you're distantly aware you're probably drooling all over his hand. A sound escapes you in answer, something like a whine or a groan or anything else equally embarrassing.

"You like that idea, hmm? My cock in your mouth?" You nod a little too rapidly, forcing your head deeper down on his finger than planned, pushing your tongue down. You choke, and Jake pulls his thumb an inch or two back even as he says, "You want it, duchess? You wanna feel how hard thinking about your pretty little mouth makes me?"

He doesn't really wait for an answer, pressing himself against your thigh instead. The hard line of his cock, the idea that nothing but fabric is separating you, that you made him like that, has your eyes rolling back in your head. You don't want to know how wet you are, and he hasn't even touched you yet. Not really, at least.

You open your mouth wide enough that his thumb slips out, dragging a wet trail over your chin, and then you gasp, "More."

Jake is close enough you can see it when he raises an eyebrow. "Now that's not very polite, is it, duchess?"

He's probably right about that, but then again, it's pretty rich to talk about politeness when you're literally Jake Seresin. The man has more enemies than teeth-whitening strips.

So you demand again, "More."

Jake's mouth tips up into a smile. "Which brings us to the second thing I'd do."

Pressed flat against the door, you wait with bated breath.

"I'd get you out of this little skirt," Jake says, tugging at the hem of said skirt, fingers just so skimming the edge to scrape across naked skin, "but I'd leave on your panties. And then I'd take you right over my knee and spank you 'till you learned how to behave."

You're pretty sure if Jake's thigh wasn't still slotted between your spread legs, you'd go sliding right to the floor. You are a bowl of ice cream left out in the sun. You are an iceberg and it's global warming time. You're a house and somebody left on the oven. You are a car and the brake cable has been cut. You are a train on a half-finished track. You are…

You are saying, "Oh. Oh. Please, please…"

Then Jake's fingers are back, two of them this time, diving deep enough you're choking again, hands flying to grasp at his service khakis, heart beating a million miles a minute, head spinning spinning spinning…

His voice is in your ear, muttering, "Fuck, duchess, the things I'd do to you, the way I'd fucking wreck you until all you know is my name, until you'd never think you hate me again, until you're my good girl..."

You're pretty sure you sob, hips bearing down on his thigh, clit knocking against strained muscles, and something builds in your stomach, trickles down into your center, something that feels suspiciously like an orgasm, only that's impossible, and you know that, even in the state you're in.

"Is that what you want, duchess?" he asks, and he's breathless too now, rutting against your hip, hiking your leg up his waist, opening you up for him even further. "You wanna be my good girl?"

"Yeah," you say, before you can think better of it. "Yes, I wanna be your good girl, Jake, please let me, please touch me, please fuck me, please, please, please…."

Then Jake's fingers disappear, and he replaces them with his mouth, just for a moment. It's a desperate thing, this kiss, all tongue and teeth and bite, wet and open and desperate, and you cling to him, you want him, you want to eat him up, you want him to devour you, you want, you want, you want…

He goes as quickly as he came. Pulls back, adjusts himself in his pants, rearranges his hair, deposits you on a crate on the floor. If you had any wherewithal, you'd be grateful that he didn't just let go of you. Your legs still feel like jello.

"What…" you begin, and your voice is a wreck, your head reeling, your body tingling with the evaporating yearning of something…

Your answer comes in the form of a door being ripped open. Natasha stands, silhouetted by the light, with her hands on her hips.

"So," she says, "did you guys figure it out?"

Jake, looking in the wash of golden lamp light to all the world like nothing happened in here, like this is a normal situation, like he didn't just drive you to the brink of your sanity just with some dirty talk, turns to you. "I don't know," he says, grinning from ear to ear. "Have we, duchess?"

And then he leaves. Just struts out and leaves you there. 

You open your mouth, pause, buffer, then close it again. What the fuck are you supposed to say?

"Duchess?" Natasha repeats, staring at you. "Oh, fucking hell, man. You guys are such idiots. Can't you just stop fighting?"

You'd answer her, but you still haven't regained the speaking ability you lost somewhere between that game of spin the bottle and Hangman's tongue down your throat.

"Fuck it," Natasha grumbles. "We'll just do this again next week. And the one after. At some point, you guys will just have to have it out."

She follows Jake, and suddenly you're alone. Alone with the pieces of everything you thought you knew strewn all around you. You blink into the dark.

So. How long for double homicide?

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Hits Different

"I trace the evidence, make it make some sense, why the wound is still bleedin', you were the one that I loved, don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough..."

Part of Inspired by Taylor Swift Series 'You're Losing Me' Chapter List Part 1

“I love you!”

“No, I love you!” you slur, leaning across the table to emphasize your point to Wanda.

“No, no, I love you," she furiously shakes her head, slurring back to you. "And you know what? If you and Bucky can’t figure this out, then - then love is a lie.”

Nat cringes at Wanda's bold statement, trying to grab her hand to pull her away from the conversation, “Wanda-“

Wanda drunkenly shoos away Nat's hand, slamming her glass down on the table so hard you're shocked it doesn't break in her hand, “No, it’s a lie! They are perfect for each other, Nat. Love is a lie!”

You fervently nod, your intoxicated mind wholeheartedly agreeing with Wanda, “Love is a lie!”

"You are both in long term, loving relationships, and you're both very, very drunk right now," Nat reasons, though it clearly goes in one ear and out the other.

Wanda leans over the table, grabbing your hands across the table, "You and Bucky are perfect together-"

"We're supposed to be getting her mind off of Bucky, not reminding her about him," Nat pointedly remarks, widening her eyes at Wanda, who doesn't seem to notice her faux pas.

"Bucky," you whimper, it was the first time you'd tasted his name in over a month. You so carefully avoided saying his name in your separation, saying it seems to open the floodgates, "I miss him."

Nat's mouth twists to the side, she gently coos, "I know you do, but -"

"We used to dance to this song all the time," you shout over the music, steamrolling over Nat's attempt to console you. You point to the speaker above you, "This was our song."

"You used to dance together?" Wanda blubbers. She turns to Natasha with wide, desperate eyes, "Nat, they used to dance together!"

Nat remorsefully sighs, regretting the moment she decided that she would stay at least mostly sober tonight, "I know, but right now, they-"

"We don't dance together anymore. He doesn't love me anymore," you brokenly whisper, tears welling in your eyes. 

"That's not true!" Nat insists. "Please don't cry. If you cry, Wanda -"

"Love is a lie," Wanda sniffles, mascara tears welling under her eyes. 

Nat groans, rubbing her temples. Even in the dim bar light, you can see the exasperation in her eyes as clear as day. 

You understand Nat's frustration with you. You never don't cry anymore. These days it seems like you're always crying, at every bar, at every club. This isn't the first time you've absolutely demolished the upbeat atmosphere of a night out with your sadness. 

It was contagious, and you wouldn't be surprised if you soon stopped receiving invitations.

He made a permanent mess of you. 

"I should get another drink," you announce, harshly planting your hands on the table. 

Natasha grips your hand, keeping you from taking off, "Not a chance, unless that drink is water."

You squeeze her hand, pulling her close to you, "I'll get custody of you guys, right? I know you have to work with him and you knew him first, but you're my friends too, right?"

"Of course we're your friends," Nat promises. 

"Maybe I can get you guys on the weekend," you mutter.

"I don't think we need to worry about custody agreements just yet, alright?" Nat tries to assuage your concerns, she drops your hand, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze, "If I'm being honest, I still think you can work things out. He loves you."

"I thought that too," you softly cry. You wipe away the tears, your face heating up with a terrible combination of alcohol, misery, and embarrassment. "I need some air."

"I'll go with you," Nat tells you, stopping you before you can leave. 

"What about Wanda?" you ask, stumbling as you stand up from the both you'd occupied all night. Nat looks down at Wanda, Wanda's head slumped against Nat's shoulder, still crying her eyes out. "I just need air. I'll be fine. Pinkie promise."

"If you're not back in 5 minutes, I'm going to come find you."

"Scout's honor!" you exclaim. 

"You were never a Girl Scout," Natasha yells after you. 

You weave your way through the crowds of people. No one seems to notice how desperately you want to escape this bar, and tonight, you're not above pushing and shoving. 

When you finally make your way outside, you notice that the cool night does nothing to soothe the ache in your heart and the knotted feeling in the pit of your stomach. You prop yourself up against the brick wall and take the deepest breath you possibly can. 

"Tough night?" the bouncer asks. 

"Tough month," you admit, wrapping your arms around yourself to protect yourself from the frosty night. 

"Whoever he is, he's an idiot," the bouncer offers. "Doesn't know what he lost."

You sniffle, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, "Thank you, Mr. Bouncer."

You didn't believe the bouncer.

Not when you could still see it so clearly in your mind. 

Bucky, just like you, knew exactly what he'd lost.

There is no washing your hands of something that was still staining every inch of your skin, like a wine stained dress you couldn't wear anymore.

You'd memorized every aspect of Bucky. There was not a part of him you didn't know. Just like there wasn't a single part of you that he hadn't touched. You think of the little wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, the scruff he'd always wake with, the slope of his nose, you knew every piece of him. And you knew it by heart. 

It all appears in flashes, little snippets of memories that you never wanted to let go of. And you think of him, of the way he used to look at you, the way he used to hold you, of what you shared - and you picture him sharing that with someone else.

You're not quite sure if it's the copious amounts of liquor in your veins or the image of the love of your life finding a new, better, greater love. Waves of nausea wash over you so quickly that it overwhelms you.

You clap a hand over your mouth, biting back the bile burning in your esophagus.

It's no use as you rush forward to the curb, throwing up all over the street. Each time you picture him in love with other girls is another dry heave on the street. 

"I'm gonna go grab your friends," the bouncer says, though you barely hear him as you remain doubled over the curb. 

"Thank you," you hear Nat say only a minute or so later, jogging out to the curb. She grabs your hair with one hand, rubbing soft, soothing circles over your spine with the other, "I think now's a good time to call it a night."

"I'm sorry," you whimper. "I didn't mean to ruin the night."

"You didn't," Nat states, though even in your drunken state, you can tell she's lying. "I promise it's fine. We understand."

You look up at her hopefully, tears freely flowing down your cheeks, "You do?"

"We do." She stands up, flagging down a taxi cab driving down the street. "We just need to get you home and in bed."

"Okay," you sniffle as the taxi pulls up. "Home sounds good."

She unsubtly ushers you into the taxi, "Come on, let's get you in the cab."

"Wait, I left my jacket inside!" you abruptly exclaim, popping back out of the cab.

Nat sighs, clearly a little frustrated with dealing with you and Wanda. She stops you from getting out with a firm hand on your shoulder, "I'll go grab it. You stay here while I go get Wanda, alright?"

You obediently nod, "Okay."

She turns back with a threatening expression like she can see the scheming lurking in your eyes, "I mean it! No running off."

"I wouldn't dream of it," you drunkenly promise. "Cross my heart!"

Nat narrows her eyes at you, trying to determine the sincerity in your eyes. She sticks out an admonishing finger, "I'll be right back."

You keep nodding as she backs away from the curb, not breaking eye contact with you until she reaches the door. You shut the car door the moment that Nat enters the bar. "Can we go now?"

The taxi driver looks back at you with a vaguely concerned expression, though you get the sense that it's less for your safety and more for the fact that you're drunk in his backseat, "What about your friends?"

"I'll text them on the way."

He purses his lips in clear displeasure, debating if this ride was worth the cab fare.

"Can you just take me home?" you quietly plead with the taxi driver. "Please?"

The driver sighs in concession after a moment, "You wanna tell me where home is?"

You prattle off your address. He looks back at you one last time, he sighs, nods, and drives off, "Just don't throw up in my back seat."

"I wouldn't dream of it," you mutter. 

You lean your head against the window of the cab, watching as the streets pass you by. Each flickering street light, each traffic light, every intersection is just a little bit closer to where your heart still resided. 

By the time the cab comes to a stop in front of your old apartment, some of your intoxication has faded.

Just not sober enough to stop you from doing something stupid.

You pay the driver, collect your things, and hop out of the cab. 

You stumble your way into the apartment building, up the elevator, down the hall.

After fussing with the keys in your bag, it takes you far longer than you'd care to admit to get the door unlocked. 

You fling open the door, stumbling into the dark apartment. 

"Hello?" you call into the darkness. 

No response.

"Hello?" you over-enunciate. 

No response again.

You stumble on, your hand clumsily feeling for the light switch against the wall. You victoriously chuckle when the room is finally illuminated. 

What you find is not something that you're ready to bear witness to. 

There is no life here. No warmth. No light. Everything you once loved is gone. He is gone. Everything is exactly as you left it, and yet, it is all gone. 

The room is sobering. Both mentally and physically. And you're not ready to be sober just yet.

You stumble around to the liquor cabinet, skipping over the bottles of wine and champagne and straight to Bucky's expensive bottle of whiskey.

You know it's stupid. You know it's a decision you will regret when you wake up with the worst hangover of your life.

You know that, but in this moment, you swear you can feel sobriety slowing creeping up on you, and you can't bring yourself to face this emotional gravesite with a clear head. 

Not bothering with a glass, you put the bottle of Bucky's whiskey up to your lips. You take a long pull of a liquor you don't even like, and continue wandering through your home. 

It vaguely occurs to you that this isn't really your home anymore. You hadn't lived here since you'd left a month ago. You'd only been brave enough to sneak in once to get more clothes under the absolute certainty that Bucky was away on a mission. 

Even though you had a key, even though you'd picked out every piece of furniture, even with your name on the lease, this wasn't your home anymore. 

You shakily suck in a breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

You drag your leadened feet through the apartment, trailing your fingertips over the cool class of pictures frames filled with better days. You keep rummaging through the apartment, hoping to trace the evidence back to where things went wrong.

It didn't make sense. 

When did it go wrong? When was love not enough? And when did you stop dancing with him?

You loved dancing with him. You'd always believed in fairytales in secret. You treated it as your most sacred wish, your most secret desire. Before him, you'd let that wish go, you'd given up. And when you found him, you were certain that this was your fairytale ending. You couldn't believe you'd found someone so perfect, someone who made you believe again.

You loved him so much. He was all you wanted. And it still wasn't enough.

He was it for you, you were sure. There would be no one else. No one else could compare. You'd already given your heart away with no intention of ever asking for it back. 

If he wasn't the one for you, why did it hurt this much? Why did freedom taste this bitter? 

You look out on the window sill filled with your houseplants, it fills you with an irrational joy that he hadn't let them die. 

You trailed through the artifacts of a great, life altering love, a love meant for the ages. A love that died young. 

You stop at Bucky's old baseball cap, remembering all the times he wore it early in your relationship to avoid being recognized in public. Compared to now, those days were so easy.

It was so bright, so full of love. You'd jumped without ever looking down. This was it, this is what awaited you in the pit of heartbreak.

You wipe away the tears, the hat still firmly in your grasp. You can't pull yourself together enough to recognize that you were crying over a hat.

Instead, you allow him to make a mess of you again. You slump down in the center of the floor, hat in one hand, bottle of whiskey in the other. 

You clutch the hat to your chest, choked sobs rack through your entire body. You hold the hat like it's the last piece of him you still have - mostly because it is the last piece of him you have.  

Before you can descend any further into your emotional breakdown, you hear a key turning in the door down the hallway. 

You lean your head against the wall, looking to the empty hallway. 

Is that his key in the door?

You were the only two that had keys to this apartment. It was a choice you made together. This was your place, not for anyone else. No one else would ever know this sanctuary like the two of you did.

Is it him?

You reconcile that maybe he gave the key to Steve, who gave it to Nat, who was here to take you away.

You didn't want to be taken away. 

"Baby?" You hear his voice echo from the door. Heavy footsteps thump down the empty hallway. "Doll? Baby, are you here? Can you please- "

His voice stops when he sees you slumped against the wall, bottle beside you, his old baseball hat in hand. You blink. Once. Twice. Three times, entirely convinced that this is a mirage after being deprived of your great love for so long. 

He stands before you for a moment. A lull in the mirage, you tell yourself. His wide, heartbroken eyes hold you captive, becoming more real with every step towards you. 

You don't say anything as he kneels before you. His ocean blue eyes are just as you remember. His familiar scent eases the pain for a moment. You swear you can feel the warmth rolling off of him. You can't help the softness that appears in your bloodshot, puffy eyes. 

"Hey," he whispers. He can't stop himself, his hand grazes your cheek, almost checking if this is real. "You were crying."

It was all one hell of a mirage.

You smile at him, a sense of ease and relief settles over you.

You wonder if it'll be okay now. If everything would finally be okay. 

He gently cradles you in his arms, lifting you up in one fluid motion. He knows he could've slung an arm around his shoulder instead of holding you in such an intimate way, but this feels right.

It feels right to have you back in his arms one last time. 

This time he knows it's the last time, he's sure you're not going to give him another chance, this time, he can cherish it, memorize the feeling of your warmth, of your touch. It gives him something to hold onto for the rest of his life. If he can't hold on to you, he'll hold onto the memory of you. 

"You used to believe in good. You used to believe in me," you softly cry into his chest.

Your breath dances across his collarbone, he memorizes that feeling too.

He gently kisses the top of your head, murmuring softly, "I still do. Always have, always will."

Part 3

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

What once was. Pt2.

Alex Keller x reader (code name: boomslang)

My idea was to write 2 alternative endings. I hope i did it well, maybe one of the two stories is good enough as the first part.

WARNING: it's long, violence and mentions of blood maybe? Spelling and grammatical errors.

1.

Alex saw you leave, a lot of memories popped up in his mind, every interaction with you had a new perspective, your words affected him. He found himself Wondering why he never noticed before and asking himself if it's true what you said "You fell for someone who is too busy to notice you".

You planted a lot of thoughts in his mind. Now your smile, the sound of your laugh, your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips, the way you squeezed his arm to let him know you were there, all that running on his mind, suddenly love is more important than any war, any target. Now the necessity to touch you, hear you, being around you is his highest priority.

This didn't pass unperceived by Farah, she noticed him distracted and even distant with everybody around.

- Alex... Did you hear what I said?

- uh? Oh! For sure, I'm sorry, I think that's a good idea.

- Yeah... alright, we have to talk. You've been distracted since you saw your friend, I don't know what happens between both of you and I don't want to know, what I want to know is if that is going to affect you in battle because if that's the case then you don't have nothing to do here...

- No, no, I'm fine, I'm just tired.

Farah is too smart, Alex knows she didn't believe it. She is not angry she's actually looking at him calmly and giving him a soft small smile. For the first time since they met, she was looking at him, talking about what she perceived on him.

- Alex, I appreciate what you, price and all of them have been doing to help here, you more than anyone else, but I'm serious, i don't want you to stay here if you have unsolved... Situations that will keep you out of the game. Think about it.

Alex contemplated the idea of leaving but you said nothing between you and him would be the same, then what's the point of leave if you're not going to forgive and give him one more chance? If he never goes, he will never know, no?

You were at home, as a reward for a successful mission, Price let you go home for a few days, you were in silence fixing your Car, preparing it for a good "wax and polish" when someone knocked at your door, which is strange since no one but Price and Laswell are the only ones that know your location.

You ran to the door, cleared your throat and were ready with your gun behind your back.

- Who is it?

- Y/N, I'm... Alex.

You didn't respond, not because you were trying to be rude but you couldn't believe what your ears were hearing.

- Y/N please open the door, I will not leave, I will sleep on your door if it's necessary.

- What are you doing here? You should be with Farah, no? And How did you find my place?

- Too many questions and I will answer all of them if you open the door, please.

There was silence, Alex was ready to sit on the floor when the door opened and there you were, god, you looked so attractive, you were wearing shorts and a grey t-shirt, some dust in your cheeks and arms.

- Come in... Are you going to stay there staring? Let's go.

He stood up and walked in before you could change your mind, you felt a flame growing in your chest but tried to keep the distance.

- Fixing your car?

- Yeah... some details. Can I offer you something to drink?

- Ah... Yeah, water please.

(Why did you ask for water? You need tequila or something strong to help you to go through this) Alex said to himself, he wasn't expecting to see you like that, you look so... Perfect.

You put the glass on the coffee table and stayed there, looking at him, he was wearing a Black compression shirt and cargo pants. God, he looks so good, it's not fair, it's not fair, you will not resist...

- So, I'm here because I begged to Price for hours to give me your address...

- Why? What do you want? I think I was very clear...

- Because you're right, I messed up, I ruined our friendship, I ran to someone else letting you behind, I'm an idiot...

- Yes, you are... And don't think I will...

- I haven't finished...

He interrupted your complaining, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continue.

- i'm an idiot, because I thought I found the woman of my dreams, my accomplice, my... Soulmate in Farah, when in reality... all this time, I had her beside me... I'm an idiot because only when I saw you leaving and after that discussion I realized it.

He stood up and walked to you, you were stepping back until the wall of the room touched your back, Alex held your hands and kneel down. You don't feel strong enough to act cold and distant, you feel something in your stomach, are those butterflies?, the flame inside your chest growing more and more, you're doing your best to not let your tears out again.

- Y/n, I know it won't be easy, but I really need you to forgive me, I need a chance to prove I won't be an idiot ever again... I'm not asking you to forgive me, I'm asking you to give me one opportunity to earn your forgiveness and your heart. Can you do that for me?

Anybody else would ask you to just accept the apology and you would easily reject it, but not Alex, he's always been better than any other guy you met before and he knows you more than anyone else, he knows it won't be easy and still... Is taking the risk.

It took you a few minutes but you made your decision, you kneeled down too and nodded in silence, avoiding his eyes, he took your chin softly and made you look at him. Those soft eyes, that smile brighten like the stars, he's staring at you, every facial feature, even when you cry you look pretty.

He didn't kiss your lips, he knew it was not the right time, at least... not yet, in exchange he kissed your nose and forehead, he held you in his arms whispering «thank you, thank you, love»

You finally give him a smile, you missed him so much, you missed his touch, his perfume, everything about him.

- Don't ruin it this time Keller.

- I won't, love... I won't.

2.

You were in the helicopter, drying more tears, when... « Here 1-0-5 reporting, Missile approaching, I repeat, we're under attack...» the next second you were on the ground, there was fire and smoke, there was something on your stomach, a tree branch, you saw a man approaching to you...then everything went dark.

Farah received a call a few days later, Price was trying to make contact with you, unfortunately you never answered, in fact, the last time they had your location was when the helicopter fell.

- We don't know what happened, we've been trying to contact her, we need people to check the place and find anything that could tell us where she could be.

- We'll go to help, send the coordinates.

«ALEX!» he was watching the sunrise in the ceiling of the building when he heard Farah.

- here you are! Get ready, we have work to do.

- what's wrong? What are we going to do?

- Boomslang... She is missing, we have to go.

He never moved faster than he did after hearing Farah's words, she gave him all the details, when they arrived just found a destroyed helicopter, the body of the soldier who was operating it, your backpack and dry blood. Who took you away? Did u walk by your own? A lot of questions ran through his mind.

- We found the place Sir, we found everything but her. Someone arrived before us... There were some footprints, dry blood.

That's all Alex could find, Price promised he would find you. And a few weeks later, Price called with not very good news, the terrorist attack in that plane, they found something hard to believe.

- I want everybody to observe these photographs of the cameras in the airport...

- That looks like... Makarov.

Ghost was the first one to say something.

- Well done, that's him. But now watch this.

There you were, holding Makarov's hand, you had a ponytail, wearing black clothes and sunglasses. The next photo was you again, kissing his cheek while you disappeared on the tunnel to the plane.

- There's no way, that cannot be her.

Soap was speaking with pain in his voice, you and him are friends, he knows you're better than that, you're not a traitor.

- we need to obtain more information, but at the moment that's what we have and here's where Farah and Alex get in, the plane is in a zone close to you, you will go to look for more clues, anything that can tell us what the hell is going on.

- You can count on us, captain.

Farah was ready to end the call when Alex interrupted.

- Cap, what will happen if we find out that boomslang is with Makarov?

- Well... She will be under investigation, interrogatories...

- She's not capable of it, she wouldn't be a traitor, she's probably a hostage.

- We don't know yet, Soap...

You landed at the place of the plane's accident, Makarov gave you your first task to prove your loyalty to him, since you and him apparently have chemistry, he just wanted to be sure you wouldn't betray him.

You knew someone would appear to look for information, but you certainly weren't expecting to see Farah and Alex. You let Farah on her own, you observed Alex, following him in silence until a tree branch appeared on your way, Alex jumped on you without noticing that he was attacking you, you pushed him away and kicked him on his chest, he fell off and you put your knife against his neck.

- Y/N? What the hell are you doing?

- Shh!

- We've been looking for you, is Makarov forcing you to do what you did?

- No, no one forced me, I did it because I wanted.

- you're wrong y/n, you're making a mistake, please, we can solve it, we will talk with Laswell and Price, we can solve it.

«echo! Echo, there's people arriving, I need you to cover me»

He noticed, you were cold and sure of your actions, were you really betraying them?.

- You will die, Farah will not survive alone with all those soldiers.

«Echo!! They're a lot, where are you?»

- you're on his side now? Why?

- Makarov showed me the power of my anger, the desire for revenge, I want you to see how your pretty Farah lost everything, I want you to feel what I felt when she decides to leave you behind.

« I'm hurt, Echo, I need help, I found what Price needs, come here now!»

Alex tried to fight you, he felt hurt, your words were still hurting him, he threw you away and you hit a tree, he ran away, new tropes appeared, you ran to one of the soldiers and asked him to give you his sniper.

You started to shoot, over and over, until you lost him. You ordered the soldiers to kill both of them.

Silence filled the air until you heard a shot, near you, you walked following the sound just to find yourself in front of them.

You were quick, you shot at Farah on her leg and feet, she fell in pain. Alex kneeled down to check Farah's.

- Y/N! Stop! You're not like this, you're better, everybody trusted you, don't make a mistake.

- Oh Alex, Alex, it is too late, now you will see Farah's hope burning, I will enjoy every minute of your suffer.

Another shot went directly to Alex's shoulder, then another on his leg, he's in pain, the perfect chance to take the evidence, that's what Makarov requested, he just needed to eliminate all evidence of his participation in this.

You got close to them, just to say.

- I did it, I planned the attack on that plane, Tell price and the boys I'm sorry for the Betray but I chose the winner's side.

In that moment another truck arrived, there he was, Makarov waiting for you, observing you, the devil's eyes, that smile was intoxicating you.

You walked and gave him the evidence, Alex was trying to stand up, Farah was looking for her gun when Makarov's voice invaded their ears.

- I want to thank you, both of you, this woman fell in my arms thanks to you, don't ever underestimate a woman's anger, her rage can take her too far. You will hear about us, too soon.

You and Makarov disappeared, Farah fainted while Alex was trying to contact someone to go and help them, he wanted to scream, Makarov took advantage of your anger and your broken heart, this wouldn't happen if he never left you, he was regretting every second that he spent away from you, and he would regret it even more in the future.

[toomuchracket]

mmmm some aftercare with matty with cuddles

matty's such a simp so in love with you that i honestly think the first thing he would do after he's flopped on top of you (still inside you) post-sex is give you a tired but genuinely happy smile and say "thank you. i love you, my favourite girl", stroking your cheek with one finger. and then i think he'd be like "you alright, darlin'? did you enjoy that?", and when you nod sleepily he's like "yeah, me too. you're the best, you know that? would stay like this forever if i could". and you're like "mmm, i think you should", and lean up to kiss him - after you've made out for a min, though, matty's like "i wish i could, sweetheart, but we need to get all cleaned up, yeah? don't worry, though - i promise we can cuddle for a bit before we go to sleep", and you're appeased. then i think there's a little bit more kissing, before matty's like "ok if we keep kissing while i'm still inside you we're going to have a problem, so i'm going to pull out now, ok?", and after you nod and he kisses your nose he pulls out slowly, him wincing and you whining at the emptiness. matty scootches down the bed to look between your thighs, watching in fascination (and pride) as his cum drips out of you - he absolutely catches a bit on his finger and offers it to you like "wanna taste?", and you lick it off and go "mmm, we're delicious", and he giggles before licking a long, slow stripe up your core to clean you up/taste it himself. you whimper at the feeling, because you're so sensitive, and matty's up kissing your head and apologising within seconds, like "i know, baby, i'm sorry, just couldn't help myself. but you're clean enough to move without, um, leaking, now, so do you want to have a shower with me? get all properly cleaned up before bed? i'll carry you". and you're like "mhmm, sounds good, i'm just going to have some water first though", taking a drink from the bottle beside your bed before offering it to matty - he's like "no, i'm fine thanks darlin'", but when you tilt your head and say "matthew" he sighs and takes a swig before standing up. and then he scoops you up and carries you to the ensuite - i think there's a funny little exchange when you're like "ok can you leave now so i can piss" and matty's like "do i really have to leave the room can i not just turn around and get the shower sorted while you're on the lav" and you're like "nope! out! i'll be 2 seconds" and matty leaves the bathroom, grumbling like "my literal bare penis was inside you not five minutes ago and yet you've got a complex about me not being allowed to know you piss". and you giggle and do your business, opening the door after you've washed your hands and grabbing matty to kiss all over his face like "i apologise for exiling you, but really - we've got to keep some mystery alive in the relationship, yeah?", and matty giggles and drags you to the shower like "come on, weirdo". and you shower, and it's all very sweet - matty washes your hair, you wash his, you both wash each other's bodies and cuddle and kiss softly under the warm water, just generally enjoying being intimate with each other in a more romantic, domestic context than earlier. then once you're out and back in your bedroom, matty hands you one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers to wear in bed, and brushes and dries your wet hair while you do a little bit of skincare (priorities, even though you're knackered) - he lets you put some moisturiser on him too, lol. and then i think matty's probably like "you know what? i could go a cup of tea right now" and you're like "actually that sounds good", so the two of you wander to the kitchen and sit for a minute having a cuppa and a chocolate biscuit. and then, finally, it's time for bed - matty insists on carrying you back to your bedroom, laying you gently on the bed and kissing you softly before getting in himself, and then it's just spooning and more soft kisses and "i love you"s before you fall asleep in matty's arms, utterly content <3

[fandoms--fluff]

Family Reunion

Salvatore Reader x Stefan Salvatore x Damon Salvatore

Summary: You decide to surprise your brothers

Warnings: Swearing, panic attack, I think that's all

a/n: it might not be as good because I had it perfectly written out but the stupid app didn't save more than half of it and all of it deleted. So I'm pretty pissed off about it.

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

Ever since you were turned you've been keeping an eye on your brothers. Damon - your twin and Stefan -your younger brother. Some of the times they knew you were also there and the others they didn't. This was one of those times where they have no clue.

You were about to change that very soon though, considering enough shit has gone down in this town it's been not even two years yet. And by soon that means in a couple minutes since you're currently sitting on the kitchen counter in the boarding house while your brothers are arguing about the moonstone in the main room.

How you got in there may you ask? Here's how: it was pretty easy considering they didn't lock the door. Idiots, right?

You sighed and jumped off the counter, making no noise and started heading over to the main room when things got more escalated. Them still not noticing you're there, you leaned against the corner of the wall and crossed your arms.

"Damon, why the hell would you invoke her? She's already pissed off at us as it is!" Stefan exclaimed to Damon for phoning Katherine earlier today.

"I agree with Stefan over there, that was an incredibly stupid thing to do" you said, making yourself present.

The two turned their gaze over to you.

"Y/N?!" They simultaneously said.

"Long time no see" you smirked and pushed yourself off the wall.

Though the next second you were hit with Stefan wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head between your neck and shoulder. Immediately you returned the hug with one of your hands secured on the back of his head. You guys stayed like that for a good twenty seconds before pulling away.

"No hug from you?" You teased, turning over to Damon.

"I'm not exactly a touchy, feely guy" he said, pouring himself a glass of bourbon.

You rolled your eyes and took the glass of bourbon he was holding for yourself.

"Okay, seriously though why would you answer the phone call I mean she already wants you both dead enough as it is" you lectured him.

"Alright, alright, so it wasn't the smartest thing to do, at least we have the moonstone safely hidden now" he admitted.

"Oh yeah? Where did you hide it?-oh wait let me guess, you hid it with the soap" you raised an eyebrow.

"You found the stone already didn't you?" Stefan pieced it together.

"It was way too easy" you said, pulling the stone out of your pocket.

Damon tried to grab it from you but wasn't fast enough, as you put it back into your pocket before he could even brush his finger tips against it.

"Wouldn't she want you dead too, not just us?" Stefan asked.

"No, you see unlike you, my dear brothers. I have a great friendship with Kitty Kat and don't let her push me around" you said drinking the rest of the bourbon in the glass.

"So you're getting the moonstone for her. That's why you're here" Damon said, getting angry.

"What did I just say?!" You exclaimed.

He stormed out, going up to his room you presume. You sighed and turned to face where Stefan is standing.

"You know I really missed you" he said, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Come here, I missed you too" you said, opening your arms and you guys hugged again.

Later that night you went up to Damon's room to find him pacing around, clearly frustrated. You made your way over and gently placed your hand on his shoulder, haulting his movements.

"Damon, Day. What's wrong? I'm here for you" You said softly.

"Everything is moving around in fast circles, I can't think, can't sleep. I don't know how to calm down" he said, starting to hyperventilate.

"You're having a panic attack, that's alright it happens to the best of us. Here try to match your breathing to mine" you said.

You lightly grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest, over your heart so he could manipulate your breathing pattern. When he started to calm down a bit and the hyperventilating stopped you started to talk to him gently.

"I want you tell me five things you see"

"Um, my bed, your hair, my hand, the floor, the window" he whispered.

"Good, and now I want you to tell me five things you feel"

"Your heartbeat, my shirt, my shoes" he said, calmed.

"Are you okay with sitting down now?" You asked softly and held his hand in yours, rubbing tiny reassuring circles on it with your thumb.

"Yeah"

You guys sat down on the end of his bed.

"Thanks for helping me" he said breaking the silence.

"As I said, I'm always here for you" You reassured, rubbing a couple circles on his back.

"I know y/n/n, but can you not tell Stefan about this, I don't need him to know" he said back to his sarcastic self.

"I won't but Day, you know he looks up to you right? He may not show it, but he does. He he's since he was old enough to walk and follow you around. And probably even before that if I'm being honest" you said and kissed the top of his head, before leaving to go back downstairs where you left your phone and apparently where Stefan also was.

He looked up at you from where he was sitting, "are you leaving already" he asked, disappointed.

"Not for long Stef, I'll just be gone long enough to annoy Katherine about she can always go back to being nice to the both of you. Ya know, big sister responsibilities" you sighed, jokingly and left. Planning to be back before sunrise.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Five dating someone who's insomnia is always kicking their ass so he pops up at night to make sure they're in bed and asleep and when he sees they arent he lovingly threatens them to go to bed lmao

He would so do that too I love him sm I swear

Late Bedtime (Five Hargreeves x reader)

Warnings: reader suffers from insomnia, swearing, references to assasin! Five, slight sexual innuendo, slight angst maybe I guess?? Idk, better safe than sorry

It was late at night, and you were curled up on the couch flipping through the channels to see what was on the television. There wasn't much worth watching, just infomercials and reruns of old sitcoms. Sighing, you settled on some random trashy reality show as you wrapped your blanket tigheter around you.

"Darling, why are you still up? You're supposed to be in bed," you heard a voice suddenly ask.

Normally, a random voice talking to you in the middle of the night would have given you cause for concern and understandably freaked you out, but you knew your boyfriend well enough at this point to know he didn't care too much about using doors. You'd tried to introduce him to the concept of knocking before in the past, but after awhile you figured it wasn't worth the fight and gave up.

"Couldn't sleep," you replied, turning to face him. He was in his usual Umbrella Academy uniform, one that you often teased him for, saying that he looked like he went to a private school for rich kids. He detested it, though he agreed you weren't far off the mark. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd pop in to make sure you were asleep, which you clearly are not," he said accusingly, narrowing his eyes at you.

"I told you already, I'm not tired," you said, the ending of your sentence cut off by a sudden yawn.

He raised his eyebrows at you in an "I told you so" fashion.

"Alright, that's it. Bed, now."

"But Fiveee," you whined.

"No buts. Now, go get ready for bed, unless you want me to use some of my knowledge in disabling targets to get you there."

You gasped mockingly. "Five, are you threatening me? Your loving partner, who would do anything for you?"

He smirked. "Isn't it obvious?"

You put your hand over your heart, and began to fake cry for good measure. "How could you? Just when you think you know a person."

"I used to kill people for a living. It's pretty naive of you to think I wouldn't threaten you with acts of physical violence just to get you in bed."

Perking up, you gave him a knowing look. "Oh, so you're trying to get me in bed now, are you? In what ways?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, look, first off, you know that's not what I meant, and second, I'm just trying to make sure you don't wake up tomorrow morning utterly sleep deprived."

"You wake up every morning utterly sleep deprived, so I really don't see what the big deal is here. In fact, I'm quite certain you've never actually gotten a full night's worth of sleep before, have you?"

You questioned him with such certainty because you knew it was true. Five did as well, even if he didn't want to admit it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, knowing he'd been beat. "That's... not the point. If you don't go to bed soon, you're not going to get enough sleep, which means you're going to be really pissy when you wake up; and I, for one, hate when that happens, so would you please just go to bed?"

The last part came out as less of a question and more of a plea, which caused you to realize that, as much as he loved staying up late with you, trash talking his family and drinking coffee as the sun came up, he valued your mental health and stability more.

Obviously, it wouldn't do anything to help his agenda in stopping the apocalypse and saving the world if you were constantly dozing off from lack of sleep; but more than that, he cared. He cared about your general wellbeing, far more than you ever did. It wouldn't do you any good in the long run if he let this behavior continue, and he knew that.

You knew that too, as much as you hated to admit it. Which is why you gave in to his requests, surprising him in the process.

"Okay, fine."

He appeared to be in shock, as it took him a couple minutes to process what you'd said and a few more to actually respond. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said fine. It's over, Hargreeves; you win," you said, throwing your hands up in defeat. "I guess I'll just go to bed, like you wanted."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. "That's it? You're not going to protest anymore, or give me a hard time?"

"Yup."

"You're going to go to bed, just like that?"

"Just like that." You nodded your head in agreement, turning off the television while you got up and stretched. "It's just not worth it to argue about, y'know? Especially since you're right."

"Um, do you think you could repeat that?" He asked, a smirk appearing on his face. "Because it sounded to me like you just said I was right."

You groaned. "God, you're such an asshole. Yes, you were right, okay? Can I please just go to bed now?"

He shrugged his shoulders, still giving you a cocky look. "Go right ahead, I'm not stopping you."

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as you made your way into the bedroom. He followed you, watching as you got ready to go to sleep. Once you'd finished your nightly routine, you climbed into bed, slipping under the blanket.

Finally satisfied, Five turned to leave, but not before you spoke.

"Five?"

He turned back around, raising his eyebrows as he silently urged you to continue.

"Will you stay? Please?"

Letting out a soft sigh, he walked back over to the bed. "Scoot," he commanded, gesturing for you to move over.

You did, making sure he'd have plenty of room as he laid down next to you.

"Is it okay if I cuddle with you?" You softly asked, knowing how unfamiliar he was with physical intimacy and not wanting to make him uncomfortable by accident.

He didn't say anything at first, but when he patted the space beside him, you took it as an invitation to move closer.

You cuddled up beside him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him close as you buried your face in his chest. "I love you," you sleepily mumbled, causing him to smile.

Once he was sure you were asleep, he responded. "I love you, too," he whispered into the dark of your room. "So much."

~

Taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @your-next-daydream

[pedrostylez]

Anna Drabble

chapter summary: 2 years prior flashback from Anna's perspective

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: ~650 words

warnings etc: mature language used, but nothing graphic or of note. Drinking mentioned

A/N: Hi guys! If you've looked at the masterlist for "Something Else" you'll see that I've added a couple drabbles into the mix of prepared parts. These drabbles will be short in nature, but give some further context to the story that I think is important. I've gone out of my way with this series to make sure I only write from reader and Frankie's eyes respectively, but it most certainly doesn't give the whole picture, and I think it is important to remember that! How good are these people in this story? Is the version we are reading from an accurate depiction, or is it missing context? etc etc. Anyway, let me know what you guys think about Anna and this general situation that I've gotten many messages and comments on!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

Anna remembered hopping through your window one night, seeing you curled on your side with your eyes closed. She glanced around, the room dark but a sliver of light shining through the bottom of the door. She had to stay quiet, knowing your dad was still awake, drinking in the kitchen. 

She had slid her shoes off by your desk and slid into the bed next to you, gently moving the hair out of your face with nimble fingers. You had woken just enough to let the tears start falling again, Anna’s arms wrapped around you to hug you tight. She remembered how she told you everything would be fine, that she wished her mom had run away too, and that you were lucky. You both knew she was lying, but Anna was determined to make you feel better; to stop the tears.

Seeing you now, glowing with a small smile and a flush on your cheeks, Anna thought that maybe you were better. It had been years since your mom had left, and months since your boyfriend said you weren’t the one. Anna had handled that the same way-crawl into your bed, wrap you up like the big sister she always wished she had been, and hold you until you said you were okay. 

Anna’s night was not going as well as yours. She knew it when she had walked down the sidewalk from her new apartment alone. Her mom had called and tried to berate her for not being married yet. 

“You’re in your late twenties, Anna. I’m tired of waiting for you to get your act together.”

“Mom, I can’t just force someone to be with me.”

“Well if you would quit whoring around–”

Anna had hung up very quickly after that. If her mom didn’t want her whoring around, then that was exactly what Anna was planning to do. 

“Hey!” You interrupt her thoughts as she sucks down another drink. Long Island iced tea; Anna had big plans of getting fucked up. She didn’t want to tell you what her mom had said. You had idolized her since your mom left, and Anna wasn’t going to be the one to bring that banner down. “I brought Brad!”

Brad. Anna could go for a “Brad” right now. “Where is he? I need someone to dick me down.”

Anna misses the way you furrow your brow at her, a light laugh leaving your lips. “I think he’s in the bathroom. Said he would be just a minute.”

She nods, looking around briefly to see if there is anyone better. You and Anna had met Brad about a week ago, for when you needed to quote “be dicked down by some frat-looking asshole” and had happily gone with him to the back of his truck. Just a quick fuck as far as Anna was concerned, being brought around as an offering. 

When Anna doesn’t find anyone, she turns to you to hand you her empty glass. “You alright with me taking him for a spin? It’s been a shit day.” This wasn’t the first time Anna or you had said something to the same effect. Not that you typically shared, but the joke had been passed back and forth on multiple occasions. This was no different, except Anna planned on moving forward with it. 

Anna misses your hesitation, and only hears the “Yeah, go for it.” before stepping toward the bathroom where you said he would be. She finds him leaning against the wall, kissing some other girl in kitten heels and a blue shirt. 

“Hey, Brad.” Anna slurs. She doesn’t know when that started to happen. Maybe the Long Island was a mistake. “I need to talk to you.” 

Brad was quick to allow Anna to paw at his hair, eager for any type of attention. He was the epitome of a fuck boy-it was exactly why you had picked him. Anna knew that this wasn’t someone either of you could be with long term, but as a way to get back at her mother? Perfect solution.