#do not know how to be willing to make mistakes ESPECIALLY in front of others

[tender-rosiey]

Hi!! Loving dad! gojo :)

I love ballet and I love gojo, so could you do gojo bringing his cute little daughter to ballet class please?

twirl — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: hehe I am so happy dad!gojo is getting some love; hope you enjoy

“you got your water bottle?”

“mhm!”

“your shoes?”

“yup!”

“did you give mommy a kiss?”

“yeah!”

“good girl; now, do a twirl.”

she excitedly does as told and squeals in happiness when satoru picks her up and spins her around, “that’s my pretty little princess!”

he gently puts her down and she holds his index finger. he blows you a kiss then bends to tell her, “say bye to mommy.”

“bye, mommy! I love you!”

you chuckle, “I love you too, sweetie! have fun!”

and so satoru embarks on a journey to d/n’s ballet class.

the car ride is full of d/n’s favorite songs accompanied by her dad’s horrible singing that she somehow likes.

when he gets there, he notices that he is the only dad there, save for two other cool dads.

the mothers are also completely enamored by satoru, and while another time he would boast in the attention, his priority right now is his daughter, his daughter that looks very scared and nervous.

he sits on the ground so he is at eye level with her, “what’s up, pretty?”

she pads her way into his arms, and he instantly embraces her. he gently pats her back, and the last thing on his mind is how uncomfortable the position is for him. her little hands clutch his shirt, “what if I do bad?”

“I know you will do amazing,” he grins and squishes her cheeks, “and even if you do, mistakes are okay, and most importantly, daddy’s always here to save the day!”

d/n nods with a small smile. she gives him a tight hug, before she pulls back and starts fidgeting with her fingers. she looks up to him with matching azure eyes, “can you dance with me?”

he abruptly stands up then points at a small boy, “get me a tutu!”

and that’s how you found your husband killing it with d/n on her ballet class.

they did have to put him further away from the kids because of his gigantic legs, but he is still having the time of his life. d/n is also very entertained with her dad and is trying to copy his every move, completely forgetting about the ballet teacher.

the mothers are also very amused by the act, with some nudging their husbands to do the same. little do they know that satoru is unmatched in whatever he tries, especially when he is trying to impress his little princess.

she starts squealing and jumping in place, “daddy, you’re so cool!”

he spins around before stopping to peck her cheek, “thank you, cutie!”

“satoru, what are you—?”

“wifey!” he screams before launching at you and pulling you into one big bear hug. of course, satoru is a show-off, and he likes to make a statement. that’s why he dips you and kisses you in front of everyone in the room. he pulls you back up, chuckling at your shocked expression.

“mommy! mommy!” she dashes to you and hugs your leg. she then quickly looks at satoru, tugging on his pants, “daddy!” she points at her cheek, “kiss, please!”

he swiftly picks her up and starts peppering her face with kisses and you watch with a warm smile. after he is done with his ambush, he sets her down with another hug. she looks a lot more confident and is willing to go on and try again by herself.

satoru is about to declare his mission successful, but someone rudely interrupts his victory dance.

a boy shyly makes his way towards d/n, who is right beside satoru. the boy looks at the ground, a pink hue coating his cheeks. he starts to murmur softly, “um, h—hi; I am—“

satoru crouches on the ground and stares at the boy. the kid is clutching a freaking rose. your husband’s dad instincts go off and he turns the boy around and lightly pushes him away, “go play with your friends, buddy.”

the boy turns back to satoru, but, this time, he is frowning at the man, “I wanna give d/n a flower!”

“well, I am here to do that, so you can go away,” satoru stands up proudly, “and! I give her flowers, not just one!”

the boy’s frown deepens and he turns to his friends and whistles for them to come over. quickly, a gang of 6 year old boys are at satoru’s feet. the boy points at satoru, “this man won’t let me give d/n a flower…attack!”

and because your husband’s petty like that, he keeps his infinity on and doesn’t flinch in the slightest. the kids keep trying to punch and kick him, but he doesn’t falter. he grins smugly at you, and you merely roll your eyes with a smile.

meanwhile, d/n already went to continue her class like nothing is happening.

you have no idea how the parents or ballet teacher are letting these kids ‘gang up’ on your husband, but you guess that everyone wants some entertainment every once in a while. plus, most of the kids got tired and ditched the ambush anyway.

now, no one is left but the flower boy.

the poor kid is panting and struggling as he looks up at the smug man. satoru smiles at you, turning off his infinity, “see, babe? told ya nothing can—“

the little boy has kicked your husband’s shin, harshly too. he huffs, holding back tears, “you’re a meanie!” he runs away to his mom, leaving satoru to hold his leg in pain.

you frown sympathetically at the boy, “satoru, you made him cry.”

“well, you’re going to make me cry with how little you care about how I am in pain right now!”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[wwinterwitch]

cowboy like me — coriolanus snow

summary: it takes one to know one. you and him were exactly alike, which explains why you were inevitably drawn to each other

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tags: you can't fix him you're as awful as him, being delusional together, fluff??? (not really but u guys are in love and happy and married), mentions of/implied murder and being bad people, romanticizing everything

notes: idk where i was going with this i just had this idea in my head and taylor inspired me to write it. i'm also absolutely feral for young!snow it's not even funny at this point, i needed to find ways to cope lmao

i'd really appreciate a comment or reblog if you enjoy my work.

masterlists | read on ao3

A smile appears on your face the second you feel a hand on your lower back, turning around to meet your husband's loving gaze.

He stands directly in front of you, staring down at you in a way that to this day makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, like you're nothing but a teenage girl who's unlucky enough to have developed a blinding crush on a guy too charming for his own good— the thought of it makes you feel almost nostalgic, looking back at the early stages of your relationship.

Coriolanus Snow has always been a familiar face. Growing up together, you two have known each other for ages. You might've interacted a few times, but nothing beyond brief conversations between classmates.

You had a boyfriend at the time. A much too sweet and caring guy that made the big mistake of falling irrevocably in love with you. In all fairness, it was hard for him not to trail behind you like a lost puppy all the time when you were so good at making foolish boys believe you were the girl of their dreams.

Love is not a word you would use to describe your relationship. He was tolerable and clearly obsessed with you, so it made sense for you to stay with him. He learned with time that buying you very expensive gifts would get you to pay more attention to him, so that became his way of showing his affection for you.

In his mind this was perfectly reasonable. His girl likes being spoiled, so that's exactly what he did. The adoration for you blinded him enough to ignore the truth: you're just sticking around for the money. Some people warned him you were bad news, but you always managed to find a way to make him worship you all over again. Maybe you could've felt sorry for him at some point...if only he didn't have such good taste to pick things out for you.

But then Coriolanus happened. You started to notice him more and more until you inevitably started having feelings for him. How could you not fall for a guy like him? Especially after he started his quick ascend as one of the best Game makers in history.

Maybe it was the way he so fervently claimed his interest in you, willing to pursue you even when your boyfriend was still in the picture. Or perhaps it had to do with his growing popularity and power. After all, you can't deny how attracted you are to guys with ambition.

And Coriolanus is not exactly sure what made him fall for you either. There's many things he loves about you, that's for sure, but he can't say which came first. Was it your captivating beauty and intelligence, or the news that you recently became the only heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Capitol?

Whatever force pulled the two of you together, it really doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that he loves you with every fiber of his being, willing to do whatever is in his power to make sure you're happy (and what isn't, he'll do anything to get). And you love him too, of course, offering him a companionship he always craved— undying fidelity, the purest honesty and understanding.

You've never once judged him for being who he is. If anything, you seem to admire his strength to do whatever it takes to secure his place in society. No one has ever been this loving and accepting, almost encouraging him to be as determined as ever to get the two of you on top.

Whatever he did or didn't do is already in the past. Why should the past matter? Shouldn't you enjoy the present with your loving and successful husband? Be proud of the work the two of you have done to get where you are?

No, the past is gone. It already happened. There’s no need to look back at things you can't change and decisions you can't take back. It all brought you here. Every tiny little decision led the two of you to this moment; married, in love, happy, powerful. It was meant to be like this.

He didn't seem to mind about your own past either. Any other person would've judged you for the difficult decisions you had to make in order to become the wealthiest woman in all of Panem. You've seen it in the face of ex friends and lovers. They never understood your hunger for what you so rightfully deserve.

Good things don't happen to people because they're good. They happen because you make them happen. You fight, you take, you conquer. It's what life is, and it's something you and Coriolanus understand perfectly. That's why the two of you make sense. Why it feels so right to be together. You understand him and he understands you— understands you like no one else has in your entire life.

It was him the one who held you that night when you just couldn't hold it in anymore, and he sat with you while you cried and cried about your beloved sister, because even after all those years you still missed her and wished things could've been different.

If only your parents made it easier for you. They shouldn't have played favorites from the moment you were born. And they really shouldn't mess with something as important as inheritance. It's your goddamn birthright! How could they be so cruel to you? If they corner you against the wall with no apparent way to escape, it was a matter of time before you decided to stand your ground.

It's a shame your poor sister had to suffer the consequences, though. You really do love her...

Coriolanus couldn't judge you even if he tried. He could see himself in your tear-filled eyes and hear his own inconsolable sobs through your voice. It took him back to a particularly difficult point in his life where he had to make a similar choice.

He pours his heart out to you as he holds you tight against his body, revealing all the unfortunate things he was forced to do because it's all that was left. An act-or-die situation that kept repeating itself until he had no other choice but to do the unspeakable. What else was he supposed to do? What else were you supposed to do?

The regret in his voice is evident, and you know he does regret it because he’s a good person with a heart of gold. One of the best people you’ve ever met in your life. He’s good, and brave, and passionate…enough to sacrifice what he loves if the circumstances require that of him. Not many people have the privilege to claim to be as great as him.

"You did what you had to," your voice came out in a soft whisper, still affected by your sudden outburst with the thought of your sister engraved deep inside your brain. At the time you thought you were trying to ease his conscience, but maybe your statement was falling from your lips in a weak attempt to ease your own inner conflict too. "Life has been so unfair to us, Coriolanus. Is it too bad that we want just a little bit of peace?"

He stays quiet for a bit, stroking your hair in hopes to bring you some comfort as he processes your hopeless, pain-filled statement. That's probably the hardest thing about loving you; caring so much that he cannot possibly function if he knows you're hurting, and cursing himself for not being able to take that pain away. 

"We'll have peace," he eventually assures you. His voice is soft, yet fiercely determined. There's no room for discussion. He'll make it happen for the two of you. What's a few more difficult choices when he's so far gone now? When he knows it has worked perfectly before and it made all his dreams come true?

In that moment, snuggled up to his chest with his arms tightly wrapped around you, it was clear. That sense of familiarity you only get when you look back in the mirror, or when you quickly scan a room when someone speaks your name. He has suffered as much as you. He knows what it's like to be mistreated in life, and how difficult it is sometimes to live with the fact that you had to leave people behind to finally taste a drop of happiness.

The guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it's easier to remember you had no choice, but other times all you can think about is what life could've been if you weren't forced to take such drastic measures. Perhaps now that you have someone who truly understands, you'll learn to always remember you deserve all you managed to achieve.

When you move back from him to look up into his welcoming and comforting blue eyes, you knew you'd never be alone again. You'll never get to experience this free-fall, soul-consuming feeling with anyone else. And why would you even want to waste your time like that, when you already found the one person who sees the world exactly like you do? 

A love like this is hard to find. Most people spend a lifetime trying to find a love decent enough to make them feel like they're losing their minds. Like the air is missing from their lungs and everything looks much darker when the other is not around. Like they're willing to do anything to make the other happy. Like the fear of being consumed entirely by it is the sweetest of fates.

You thought you could only experience affection in the form of luxurious jewelry, fancy clothing and all that came with the important status your ex boyfriend provided. At one point, you could say you almost needed him. Or least needed his money. He provided a safety net you desperately needed after your stupid parents decided to leave everything to your annoyingly perfect sister.

After becoming the only heir in your family (it really is a shame that your sister was gone so soon, poor thing), your boyfriend was no longer a necessity, but a way of distracting yourself when you needed it. It's not like you're going to refuse his gifts and attention anytime soon, right?

But that was it. The furthest it can get to what being in love should look like. And that was what your relationship with Coriolanus should have been when you decided to make your way into his heart. Never in a million years would you have expected to meet a soul that matches yours in even the tiniest of details, that loves so deeply and cares enough to act like it's required to survive. 

With his arms still surrounding your body in a protective and comforting manner, you knew he’d be the guy you’d spend the rest of your life with. You knew it long before the day he got down on one knee, professing his undying love for you and offering the most beautiful engagement ring you have ever seen in your life. You pledged to always be there for him and, in return, he vowed to give you the world— he'd find a way to reach the night sky and collect every single star for you if that's what you ask of him. You kept each other's deepest secrets like they were your own. Two smart and ambitious people joining together in their search for greatness.

The hand on your lower back now rests against your cheek, tracing your skin in such a delicate manner that it almost makes you shiver. The white rose attached to his impeccable burgundy suit is slightly tilted to the right, fixing it with your hands as soon as your eyes notice that detail.

He smiles wider after your gesture, leaning down to capture your lips in an affectionate kiss to show his gratitude. You wish the moment could last longer, but you know it's impossible to stay behind these walls for longer when there's a loud crowd out there chanting your husband's name.

There's the briefest of interactions when he breaks the kiss, the two of you standing in front of each other with a smile of pure conspiracy— a silent recognition of the work individually done to get here, an unspoken ‘thank you’ to one another for the team effort, and the promise of a never-ending companionship that would only take you higher.

He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours before finally stepping outside to the marble balcony. Before you, a sea of people cheer and welcome the new President and First Lady of Panem.

[lovelyverosika]

I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

[builtbybrokenbells]

CAPITAL VICES | LUST

Lust: a strong passion or longing, especially for sexual desires.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!recieving) oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, dom/sub, bratty sub, dirty talk, name calling, hint of degradation, praise, sir kink, choking, impact play, touch of cum play, hookups/fwb, drinking, mentions of drugs/drug use/addiction, swearing, a painful amount of flirting (player Jake is my weakness btw), sorry if I miss any!

here we go again. i know i said i might not be posting much but i finished this up and I couldn’t help myself. my apartment is about half packed so this was a little reward for myself lol 🥰 im thrilled about this series, and I really hope you guys are too. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The room was packed with bodies desperate for a thrill, but most were in active search with little knowledge of how they would attain it. Some were drowning their sorrows in tequila shots while others danced away their memories, clinging on to a companion who would only temporarily solve their troubles for the night. You couldn’t blame them for giving it their best shot; even you knew that pain was more digestible when there was someone to accompany you through it. In the morning when they woke, it would return with a fervent appetite. It would snowball, feeding viciously off the shame brewing from a one night stand that could not even give them an orgasm. For the time being, they seemed content with their watered down drinks and 80’s hits playing through the system with a stranger wrapped around them. They tried not to think of the future, but it was still weighing heavily in the back of their minds. You knew they would regret it, and so did they, but they were unwilling to own the truth.

Others found their thrills in more nefarious ways, like the couple who was engaging in all but penetrative sex in the booth in the back corner. They thought the crowd would cover their show of desperation for each other, conceal them from curious eyes, but they were stealing spotlight even in the near pitch black room. Some were doing lines in the bathroom, hoping that life would get a little more interesting with the next hit all while promising themselves sobriety when the night came to an end. Despite their beliefs that they would stop their ‘recreational’ doses when the sun rose in the sky, everyone (including themselves) knew the reality of the situation; they were decomposing at the hands of substance abuse. They weren’t willing to admit to their own addiction, but most would succumb to the sickness and end up washed up in rehab after their spouses or parents reached the point of no return.

Violence even seemed to spark interest in a young pair of boys just outside, throwing fists in hopes of asserting dominance, yet only making fools of themselves in front of their dates. It was an embarrassing show of missed punches and drunken rage, but somehow it tickled them just right. They would go home pleased with themselves, proud that they ‘stood their ground’ (what they were defending, you weren’t certain of) and their dates would complain to their friends about it. After a week of missed calls and messages, the young boys would begin to understand that their temper tantrums were not good foreplay and would vow to learn their lesson. Until the next night of drinking draft and watching football on a bar television, of course.

No matter which way, every person in the bar was in search of something more, something to give them a spark of life back and a memory to tell later on down the line. None of them could admit that their entertainment for the night would do neither of those things. Instead, they would have a nasty hangover and a looming sense of dread hanging over them for the foreseeable future. That’s the thing about materialistic thinking; it always leaves you unfulfilled and in search of more. The people that came to the bar miserable would ultimately leave the same way, yet they would never admit that their ways were no longer working for them. Maybe in their teens or early twenties real memories could be made over cheap tequila and hookups, and if not memories, lessons for certain. After twenty five, it just seemed a little sad to continue down the same path of destruction in hopes for anything meaningful.

You were not at the bar for a thrill. You were there for one reason; to pass the time, and to get a good buzz. Dancing was never your forte, nor was it your passion to do drugs off the back of a dirty bar toilet. Company was low on your list of priorities and always had been. You learned many years ago that you would never find a suitable life partner at a dive bar just off of Main Street in a big city. Establishments like such only ever seemed to attract college attendees and middle aged men who hated spending time with their wives. Even when a promising suspect would turn up, eventually they would show the side of them that made it impossible to keep a girlfriend. Getting to know people was a drag, and the thought of making room in your apartment for a second person was more sickening than anything else. You liked your personal space, and you liked peace. When adding a new person to your life, you were risking it all, and risk something that never peaked your interest.

Whiskey was something that caught your attention though, and when it was cheap, it only made you more inclined to indulge. You had learned long ago that this particular dive bar had the cheapest stock around, and they didn’t skip out on quality, either. They seemed to save their money by neglecting building maintenance, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. You could get drunk in a five star hotel for triple the price, and you’d still be drunk. You tried not to think about the soles of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor or the outdated interior design, and the drink in your hand aided the process sufficiently.

“Another?” The bartender asked as he nodded towards your empty glass.

“You know me too well, Ray.” You chuckled, sliding him the empty glass. He grabbed it, barely leaving your side before another was sat in front of you.

“What can I say? You’re my favourite regular.” He smiled. Both of you knew this was the truth; you appeared every weekend, sitting in the same spot and drinking the same thing, and you never made a peep aside from the small talk initiated by the workers. You were a certain tip, and if he had the luxury of being blunt, the prettiest face to look at in the crowd.

“You’re just saying that because I tip well.” You grinned, sipping away at the beverage he’d made for you.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” you shook your head “just pointing out the obvious.” He chuckled, throwing a towel over his shoulder before moving on to the next customer. You knew when the night dwindled down, he’d be back over to chat with you. Some would have shame in admitting that their closest friend was a 60 year old bartender, especially as a young woman, but you didn’t care. With him, you were never required to entertain any meaningful conversation or profess your darkest secrets. It was simple, lighthearted, and it served you well. You had no obligation to continue the friendship outside of the bar, and you got to see pictures of his grandkids. It was a win-win for everyone.

You barely looked up from your phone when the seat beside you was taken by another. You thought it odd for him to feel inclined toward that specific seat considering the bar was full of vacant space, but you didn’t think too hard about it. Drunk people didn’t care much about social cues, and you didn’t care enough to argue with them. What you did care for was the overwhelmingly strong scent of the patrons cologne, which seemed to be choking you the longer you breathed it in. It was not unpleasant; far from it, really, but it was very apparent. You weren’t sure if he doused himself in it before making an appearance at the bar, or if it was just so strong because of his close proximity. You buried yourself in your drink instead of investigating any further, knowing that someone who smelled so heavenly would only be looking for trouble.

“Any recommendations?” The voice struck you like a bolt of lightning, strong and without any warning. At first, you had doubts that the words were pointed in your direction, but when you felt a pair of eyes staring holes into your skull, you knew you were mistaken. You looked over at him, curious about the nature of his question. Surely any man who stepped foot into a bar already had an idea of what he wanted to drink. You doubted that the conversation starter was about alcohol, and was most likely a way to initiate a round of unbearable flirting.

“Depends.” You breathed, finding yourself completely distracted by the beauty of his face. His long brown hair was framing his face, and his smile was breathtaking. “What kind of night are you trying to have?”

“I’m open to suggestions.” He said, eyes lingering over the features of your face. He seemed just as enthralled in you as you were with him, and neither of you seemed keen on hiding it.

“Well, if you’re looking to dance, try the house tequila.” You started, flickering your eyes towards the wall of liquor bottles. “Seems like the draft here makes a person want to get in a fight, and the gin will leave you crying in the bathroom. Speaking of the bathroom, if you’re looking for some non-liquid solutions to your problems, there’s plenty in there, but I don’t know how much they’re willing to share.” He let out a laugh at your joke, but you were unsure if it was due to his shared sense of humour or because he wanted to get in your pants. Either way, it was a nice stroke to the ego. Even if it was due to a desire for sex, it was nice to feel appreciated, especially by someone so captivating.

“A lady that knows her liquor,” he noted, giving a slow nod. “I can appreciate that.”

“You asked, I answered.” You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “So what is it, then? Dancing, fighting, or crying?”

“None of them.” He assured you. “What if I’m looking to impress someone? Any suggestions for that?” You pretended to ponder the question before giving him an answer.

“I guess that would depend on who you’re trying to impress?” You raised an eyebrow, appearing more inquisitive than you truly were. He was handsome, and that was no secret, but it was not what you were looking for.

“You have lots of questions.”

“I can say the same about you.” You took a sip of your drink, your mouth watering at the potency of the liquid. Or, maybe it was because of the heavy-lidded gaze he was casting your way.

“If I was trying to impress a very attractive woman who’s looking at me like I’m an idiot, what do you think I should order to change her mind?” He asked, his eyes never leaving your face. You let out a small sigh, giving a shrug of your shoulders as you took another drink. Instead of replying, you turned back to face the bar, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. When the bartender came to take his order, he was still waiting for a reply. “I’ll take two of whatever she’s having.” The unnamed man said, hoping to grab your attention again.

“So, I’m the very attractive woman?” You asked, refusing to turn back to look at him. When the drinks were placed in front of him and he slid one your way, your question was given an indefinite answer. “What if you can’t change my mind?” You posed the idea to make him sweat, but his rebuttal was effortless.

“I have the rest of the night to keep trying, then.” Another smile twisted onto your lips, finding his charm irrefutable. Even if you weren’t interested in anything further than a simple conversation, you had to admit the effort was admirable.

“I wasn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot, by the way.” You said, swishing the ice around your glass. “Maybe I thought you were a little dumb, but not an idiot.”

“That’s a relief.” He said, a smile tugging on his lips, too. His response to your humour was definitely intriguing, and you were quite interested in his relaxed expression. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Y/n,” you said, finally accepting the glass he’d pushed in your direction after draining your own. He watched you, finding your lack of reciprocal attention peculiar, yet it only seemed to spark his interest even more.

“Are you going to ask for mine?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, debating his words before giving a shake of your head. “No.”

“Playing hard to get?” He joked, sipping away at his own whiskey.

“Just don’t care.” You shrugged. It was the truth; you weren’t doing so in attempt to play hard to get, but because you did not want to be caught at all. You had no interest in playing the game of cat and mouse, because you did not intend to leave the bar with anybody. You had a date with your bed and hopes of a good nights rest. You could not do that if you were busy wrapped around another. As attractive as he was, you weren’t willing to double back on your promises to yourself. Instead, you decided that it was best to stop any further attempts to change your mind.

“Ouch.” He chuckled, waiting to see if you were joking or not. You kept your head straight, wondering if you should leave before he continued on his tyrant. Then again, he was in your bar and this was your seat, so if anyone was leaving, it was not going to be you.

Your stubbornness was your biggest weakness, but you were too stuck in your own way to see the issue. As if the gods planned such a gruesome match from the very beginning, the only rival to your own obstinacy was the one living inside the man sat beside you. You were not willing to give in, and he was not willing to give up.

“Are you from here?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that if you kept your answers short he might take the hint.

“I just moved here, thought I’d check out the town, maybe meet some new people.” You gave a slow nod, eyes now focused on the football game playing on the television above the bar. You hated football, but you hated entertaining men even more. You’d rather watch a bunch of grown men fight over a ball than engage in any kind of small talk. “Not a talker, I see.”

“Usually that means you should move on and try again with someone else.” You said, picking away at the basket of French fries sat in front of you. If there was one thing the bar did that was just as good as cheap liquor, it was deep fried foods.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” He suggested. “Nobody else in here is worth the time.”

“And I am?” You chuckled, watching the team with red jerseys score a point. “You don’t even know me. I might be a serial killer, or even worse, celibate.”

“I’d like to know you.” He offered. “What makes you think that I’m looking for sex?” You looked over your shoulder at him, taking in his attire. You looked closely at the chains dangling around his neck, drawing attention to his shirt that was buttoned only up to his stomach. His dress pants looked name brand, and his eyes screamed flirtatiously at you when you locked your stare with him. He was radiating sex appeal, which argued your case for you.

“I bet you have two condoms sitting in your wallet. You replaced them this morning, because last night, you went to a different bar and did the same thing with another girl who couldn’t see right through you.” You guessed, eyes flickering to the pocket of his pants where the bulge of his wallet sat. “It’s written all over you, honey. Stick to the college bimbo’s if you want to get anywhere worthwhile.”

“Two condoms?” He pondered the idea, a smirk growing on his face. “I take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t.” You laughed, shaking your head at his undying commitment to knowing you. “It wasn’t meant as one.”

“Then it seems like you have a knack for making insults sound like a good thing.” His eyes flickered to your lips, his personality showing through the mask for a moment. He was enamoured with you, and he was from the minute he sat down. Your disinterest was not a deterrent to him, but rather a driving force. The banter was driving him crazy, and he was not willing to go home without you.

“Maybe you just have no idea how to take a hint.” You suggested the idea, but both of you knew he was painfully aware of the situation. He knew he could step back if he so pleased, but he did not want to, nor was it an option he was willing to consider. Oddly enough, you almost found it charming. His dedication was not creepy or anything like it, mostly because he was not using vulgarity as part of his charm. You knew if you got up and walked away, he would respect it. Unfortunately, he knew just as well as you did that you would never back down and give up your seat. You could complain all you wanted about his interest in you, but you were encouraging it by interacting with him. Even in your obvious rejection, he knew he had interested you enough for you to speak to him.

“I’m Jake.” He said, disregarding your comment.

“I said I didn’t care.”

“Never said you had to care.” He reminded, finishing his drink and raising a hand to call the bartender over again. You watched him, baffled at his carelessness towards your clear insults. It seemed to wash off of him like water on a duck’s back, barely touching his confidence and only fuelling him further. He ordered another round of drinks for both of you, not bothering to ask if you wanted another. As he spoke to the bartender, you couldn’t help but study him for a moment. He was gorgeously dressed, drawing attention to his stunning features as he topped it off with a cocky attitude. Everything about him was compelling, and even if you weren’t keen on his company, it was incredibly difficult to ignore him. He held himself with confidence, and because of that, he radiated power. You would be lying if you said you did not find him attractive, but it did not change the fact that you were not interested in pursuing anything with him, or anyone for that matter.

Ray placed your new drinks in front of you, wasting little time in busying himself with something else. You almost felt guilty for being so mean to Jake while he was funding your night of drinking, but you did not ask him to spend money on you. You did not even ask him to speak to you, yet it seemed like the only thing he wanted to do. “Thanks.” You said, looking down at the ice swirling in the amber liquid. Even if you didn’t want to engage in any kind of sexual relations with him, you still had manners.

“So, what are you here for, tonight?” He questioned, ignoring your gratitude. He did not want to be thanked for something he was more than happy to do. You raised an eyebrow, curious about his inquiry. “Well, you’re drinking whiskey, so clearly it’s not fighting, dancing, or crying.” You chuckled at his recollections of your earlier comment.

“I’m here for a cheap drunk.” You replied, honest with your answer. “Cheapest whiskey in town, and the regulars aren’t too bad, considering I’m one of them.” He nodded along with your words, soaking in all you were willing to share. “Every Friday, same bar, same seat, same shitty football games.”

“You’re saying I have another shot if I mess this up?” He gave a playful smile which you couldn’t stop yourself from returning.

“Sure, you can take as many shots as you want. It’ll be the same answer every time, I can promise you that.”

“We’ll see.” He answered as if it were a challenge and he was competing. You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back the expression. “Just a conversation, that’s all I’m asking for. After that, you can throw your drink in my face and forget about me in the morning.”

“I know that it’s more than a conversation to you, Jacob.” You shot back. People like him were predictable, even if they were charming. As much as you knew he would waste your time, you knew you were wasting his. It was in his best interest to find a girl who was more likely to go home with him, because he would inevitably leave the bar empty handed and wishing he had taken a chance on another.

“Sounds like you’re scared I’m going to change your mind.” Your spine straightened at the accusatory statement. You were not afraid, and you did not like being told by another what you were feeling. What you did like was a challenge, and now that he’d worded it as such, that was the only thing you could think of.

“Fine. Let’s talk.” You smacked your palms against the table, a course of energy running through your body. You swung your chair to face him, just so he knew you were fully immersed in him. If he wanted to have a conversation, you could do that. If he thought he could convince you to take a chance on him, you were more than willing to prove him wrong.

It was a mistake that could only be classified as a fatality.

“Where are you from, Jake?” You asked, trying your best to feign intrigue.

“Michigan.” He tried to hide the smirk growing on his lips, pleased that he managed to push the right buttons. “You?”

“Right here in Nashville. Born and raised, never left, don’t want to.” You explained, waiting for him to ask a question, now.

“What do you do for work?”

“Photography.” You replied, not willing to delve deeper into the subject.

“That’s really cool.” He noted, genuine interest showing in his face. “I’m a musician.”

“I see,” you hummed, knowing that it was just another reason for you to abstain from knowing him. Musicians were never good news, and growing up in Nashville, you’d learned that the hard way. Most people who chased after fame had little care for anything else, and they were destined to break hearts. “Let me guess, guitar?”

“How’d you know?” He asked, but he didn’t really think it was hard to guess. It was the most common instrument in the industry, and in Nashville, everyone played guitar.

“Lucky guess.” You joked. “Band or solo act?”

“Band, I’m no singer.” He laughed.

“Don’t need to sing to be a good guitarist.” You challenged.

“Good point,” he agreed. “We just moved here, thought it was time. We made a few albums, but we’re looking for something bigger.”

“Are you any good?” You sipped at your drink. The quick-fire questions were wearing you down and you needed a pick me up.

“I’d like to think so, but everyone has their own opinion.” You hummed in agreement, not willing to make a promise to listen to his music, but curious about his skill. “Maybe we could get you to do a photoshoot for us.”

“I’m out of your price range.” You teased, a smile on your lips. The conversation was not unbearable, but definitely was not something you came to the bar with intent to do.

“I’m sure we could figure out a suitable payment.” He said, unable to hold back the drop in his voice and the lustful twinkle in his eye. You watched him, wanting to chastise him for the flirting, but you felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. You were immune to charm most of the time, but something about him was irresistible. You weren’t sure if it was the relaxed posture and the certainty in himself, or if it was the overwhelming beauty of him as a whole. Whatever it was, he was pulling you in without you even noticing. You were struggling to fight it mostly because it was so subtle. Before you could realize you were being trapped, there was no way you could escape.

“I thought this was just a friendly conversation, Jacob?” You couldn’t help the drawl in your tone that screamed for him to keep going. You wanted to blame it on the strength of the liquor in your cup lowering your inhibitions, mostly because you refused to admit it was solely due to his captivating stare.

“I don’t think I’m being unfriendly, sweetheart.” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, so delightful even if it was filthy.

“Too friendly, perhaps?” You corrected. Both of you were leaning in to each other without even realizing it. The tension was thick in the air, and it had been from the moment he sat down. Even if you were not looking for anything more, you couldn’t deny the strength of the chemistry between you.

“What’s your issue with me?” He smirked, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

“It’s not you specifically.” You were truthful with your answer. It was not him, but rather dating as a whole. “The whole dating game was never my thing, and I don’t plan on getting into it, now.”

“Who said anything about dating?” He challenged.

“Nobody, but I don’t like hookups, either.” You explained. “Something about pointless small talk and meaningless sex never really interested me. Why would I want to tell you about myself now just to try to forget you in the morning?”

“I’d like to think that you’d have a hard time forgetting about me.” He was cocky, and that was for certain. It was something that would usually be a turn-off, but it looked so good on him that you couldn’t seem to shoot him down. “What about something in the middle?”

“What could possibly be in the middle of that?” You scoffed. “I don’t want a hookup, and I definitely don’t want to go to breakfast in the morning. I like my personal space, and I like being alone. Knowing you complicates that, and I hate complicated.”

“Do you like having friends?”

“I think I’d be a bit strange if I didn’t.” You replied. “But I know you’re not looking to be friends.”

“Do you like sex?” He continued his questioning without even acknowledging your concerns. Although it was blunt and definitely not a normal topic of conversation for two people who just met, it did not bother you.

“Most do.” You took another sip of your drink, the warmth spreading to your chest and replacing the burn of arousal brewing in your stomach. “Depends if it’s good or not.”

“We can be friends that have really good sex.” He offered, raising an eyebrow while he waited for a response. When you didn’t answer, he continued trying to sell the idea. “Casual, no strings attached whatsoever, but you wouldn’t need to forget about me, and we wouldn’t be obligated to go to breakfast in the morning.”

“How can I agree to that when I’m not even sure I want to be friends with you? More than that, I have no idea if you’re as good as you think you are. I don’t like being disappointed, Jacob.” You were calling a bluff you knew did not exist. He looked as if he was put on this earth to please others in ways many could never imagine. Just looking at his hands made your mouth water, already knowing the power he held in them. You couldn’t even think of anything further than that, because you knew that it would be far beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were trying not to crack under the pressure, but the thought of his head between your thighs was making it nearly impossible to breathe. “Besides, what if I’m not all you think I am? You don’t seem like the type to like disappointment, either.”

“From what I’ve seen, I don’t think you have it in you to disappoint, sweetheart.” His hand slowly reached out, fingers ever so slightly grazing the exposed skin on your leg. The touch was searing, painful but addicting. “I don’t like dating, but I do like you. I think it would be a shame if we never saw each other again.”

“Getting sick of playing the game every night?” You theorized. “Sounds like you’re getting lazy.” He shook his head, eyes seemingly staring into your soul as he watched your face.

“I just know what I want,” he corrected “and I don’t think I need to keep looking.” It was impossible to believe he was lying, because the look in his eye spoke certainty without him needing to say anything more.

“So, friends who have really good sex?” You clarified.

“Friends who have phenomenal sex, actually.” He said.

“I’m a busy woman, Jake. You better not be looking to waste my time.” You explained. “If I’m going to find time to entertain you, it better be worth it.”

“I’m a busy man,” he agreed “but I know how to make it worth your while.”

“Theoretically, if we did decide to do this, we’d just be having sex?” You asked, wanting to be certain of the situation. “You aren’t going to fall in love and fuck it all up?”

“I’m sure we can have a drink at the bar together every now and again. That’s where the friends part comes in, but yes, just sex.” He laughed. “I like you, I find you incredibly attractive and interesting, and I would like to see you again after tonight, but the same way we’re doing it right now. Maybe with less insults.”

“I can’t promise the insult thing.” You found yourself laughing alongside him. “You’re a very forward person, you know. We barely know each other.”

“I know you enough to know that I like you, and I also know that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen since moving here.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Jake.” You could feel your cheeks burning, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or his sweet words.

“It’s worked so far.” He breathed, finding himself leaning closer to you. Your faces were inches apart, both of you able to close the gap with little struggle. His eyes were locked with yours, silently begging you to give in to him. You could feel him pulling you in, almost as if he had his own gravitational force and you were the only victim of it. Although, you knew that wasn’t true. With charm like his, you were sure that you were not the only one cowering underneath the weight of it. For tonight, you were his focus, but when the morning came, you figured he would forget the idea of casual sex and already be in search of another. Players loved to play, and they always fought dirty. You were certain he was just saying what he could to get in your pants and he would be a different person when you woke in the morning.

His hand slipped to your hip, the touch was euphoric even through the material of your dress. You wanted to give in, but you thought it was too good to be true. Someone interested in meeting your physical needs without imposing on your everyday routine seemed like a great idea, but it was so perfect that you had a hard time believing it could be so simple. Even considering your fears, the ache between your legs was impossible to ignore, and it had been a long time since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another. “This sounds like a bad idea.” You warned, eyes flickering to his lips. His nose was brushing against yours now, sending jolts of electricity through you.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered, so quiet that it was almost hard to hear him over the music playing in the background.

“Not really.” You laughed, but just barely. You were scared to move away, and you were scared to move forward.

“One night, and if you still think it’s a bad idea, we can just forget about it.” He offered, still so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. He smelled like whiskey, and you were sure you caught a hint of a Cuban cigar. He was intoxicating, more so than any alcoholic beverage you had consumed that night. Your head was spinning and your rationality was slipping away. You were enamoured with him, and you felt like you were completely consumed by his presence. The world stopped turning, the music stopped playing; the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat which was in time with his own.

“One night?” You breathed, coming to terms with the idea that he was inescapable. You knew you should have walked away when you had the chance, but there was a bigger part of you that was grateful you stayed. You had the opportunity to add some excitement to your life without changing anything at all. You didn’t come to the bar in search of a thrill, but Jake seemed to be promising enough. No worry of a hookup that left you unfulfilled and regretful, and no expectation for anything more. It was exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“One night. Trial run.” He reiterated, hoping to ease your mind. “That sound good to you, angel?” You went weak at the pet name, all of your willpower dissolving into an imminent need for more. You reached your hand up, cupping his cheek in your palm and bridged the gap between you. His fingers tightened on you, enthusiastic about your sudden change of heart. The kiss was laced with the weight of every sinful desire you had ever felt before, and even more than that. It was so profound that it made your chest ache and you feared that if there was a god, he would never forgive you for the sacrilegious things you so badly wanted to commit with the man before you. “Thought I couldn’t change your mind?” He asked, barely parted from you. You could feel him smirk against your lips, but it wasn’t even aggravating enough for you to care.

“Shut up and take me home, Jacob.” You said, unwilling to wait any longer in fear you might talk yourself out of it. Instead of a verbal response, he placed another kiss on your lips before turning to close out the tab you had run up. Within a few moments, your jacket was over your shoulders and he was calling you both a cab.

In the backseat of the car, you both tried your best to keep it PG, but the tension of the night was reaching a climatic end. His hand was permanently anchored on your thigh just under the skirt of your dress, fingertips dangerously close to the parts of you he was so desperate to know. Your hand was on his wrist, holding it tightly just to make sure he didn’t get any ideas that would get you in trouble. In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid for you to agree to go to a strangers house for the promise of sex. You had no idea if he was as genuine as he appeared, yet it seemed a bit too late for that concern. You also had no idea how he managed to coerce you into joining him, but a part of you was ecstatic that he did. The calloused fingertips dancing over the soft skin of your leg led you to believe that your decision would benefit you greatly, because no average person could produce such an impact with such a little effort.

Jake handed a bill to the driver once the car was parked in the driveway of an apartment complex. He didn’t wait for the change, but did utter a small thanks before rushing out to open your door for you. “A gentleman.” You noted. He gave a chuckle, slipping his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the door. He let you both inside, keeping quiet as he led you to his apartment. He unlocked his door, holding it open for you and allowing you to go first. You took in the sight, noticing the simplistic nature of the decor as you took off your shoes.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.” He said, flipping on a light for you.

“No, it’s cute. I like it.” You assured him, feeling nervousness begin to creep in. The air smelled like him, but you couldn’t place the familiarity. It was earthy, smoky, and overall enticing. In the kitchen, you noticed a couple frames on the walls with pictures of him and three other boys. Your eyes lingered over the faces, smiling as you studied them. You turned your head to look into the living room, noticing a record player under the dim yellow lighting of a lamp. There was a few posters splayed on the walls and a couple plants sitting on the windowsills. It was not what you were expecting, but you thought it was effortlessly him. You did not know him very well, but from what you knew of him, the vibe seemed to match the personality.

His hand landed on your lower back, causing you to jump slightly under his touch. “You okay?” He asked, looking down at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to cover up the anxious look on your face. “You’re not… you’re not going to kill me, are you? Because that would suck.” He let out a laugh, a true one that was loud and came straight from his chest.

“No, sweetheart, I can promise you I’m not going to kill you.” He said, turning you to face him. You looked up at him, seeing genuineness written all over his expression. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before taking your chin between his fingers. “You don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Okay,” you sighed, feeling relief flood your body. You knew that it was irrational, but hearing the words of comfort helped. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips as reassurance. “Is that the rest your band in those pictures?” You asked, finding the courage for conversation again. He looked to the frames, nodding his head.

“Yeah.” Without hesitation, he guided you towards them so you could get a closer look. “That one’s Josh, he’s my twin brother. He sings.” He pointed at the boy with short, curly hair. You did notice how similar their faces looked now that you were a bit closer. You thought it was cool that he was a twin, and you wondered if his brother had the same irrefutable charm. “That one is Sam, he’s my youngest brother, and he plays the bass.” He pointed towards the tall boy with long, brown hair. They also looked strikingly similar, and if he hadn’t already told you that Josh was his twin, you might have mistaken Sam to be one. “And that’s Daniel, our drummer. He’s Sam’s best friend, but he’s more like a brother, too.”

“That’s really cool, actually.” You said, looking back over at him. “You guys won the genetic lottery, looks and talent-wise.” The hand he had resting on your back tightened at the compliment as a smile began to blossom on his face. You could tell how much the other three boys meant to him without him even saying a word. “So, do you do this tour with everyone you bring home, or am I just special?”

“No, you’re just special.” He said without missing a beat. You felt your cheeks tinge red at his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. “Besides, friends need to know each other, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You suddenly remembered that you were not there with the intent of being a one night stand. You would have asked him more, but you had a sneaking suspicion the tour was coming to an end. You both seemed to overcome your streak of anxiety and remembered the state that you arrived in. “So, are you going to prove that you weren’t bluffing, or are we just going to stand here all night?” He looked down at you, intrigued in your change of direction.

“Do you think I was bluffing?” He asked, shifting to face you. You looked up at him, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders.

“If the shoe fits.” You barely had time to process his reactive expression, because his hands were on your hips and his mouth was on your own. With the new found freedoms of privacy, desperation made its first appearance of the night. His hands were groping you with a feral attitude, and yours were doing just the same. It took no time for you to undo the buttons of his shirt, brushing it off his shoulders with excitement to see more. He let go of you only for long enough to slip the fabric off his body, then his hands returned to you in the same fervent manner.

The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, pulling you further into his web and trapping you there for eternity. You knew that despite your promises of only spending a single night together, you would be crawling back to him begging for more before the morning even came. In the (very) short time you’d known him, it was incredibly apparent to you that he was an addiction that was impossible to overcome. He was injecting himself into your veins, burrowing under your skin and filling your lungs with his being. You weren’t sure if it was purposefully, or if it was just an extension of his outlandish charm.

He took you by surprise, his grip tightening on your hips just before he lifted you with ease. He took a few steps forward, sitting you gently on his kitchen counter. He was quick to find home between your legs, never once breaking the kiss. You let your fingers dance over his now bare bicep, wanting to familiarize yourself with every part of him. When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless with stars in your eyes. “Do you still think I’m bluffing, or do I have to prove myself?”

“If I say no, it would ruin all the fun.” You sighed, still trying to catch your breath.

“I guess it’s a good thing I was going to prove it, anyway.” His fingers snaked under your dress, creeping up to your hip where the elastic of your underwear was resting. He hooked them through the side, but did not go any further. “Let’s go over some rules, first.”

“I hate rules,” you said, only focused on the sensation of his fingers resting on your bare skin. “They’re meant to be broken, anyway.”

“Not with me, sweetheart.” He chuckled, his other hand guiding your chin up so you would keep your eyes locked with his. “I’m going to be easy on you, but I need you to be honest with me about what you want. Got it?”

“Okay.” You nodded, the power in his gaze making your squirm underneath him.

“Remember your colours. Green means keep going, yellow means slow down, red means stop. Never, never be scared of telling me to stop or slow down.” The topic was not up for debate, and you were under clear understanding of what he needed from you.

“Okay.” You repeated, nodding your head against his hold. “Any other colours I should know?”

“How about blue, for ‘this is the best sex I’ve ever had’?” He smirked, playfulness sparkling in his eyes.

“Don’t expect to hear that one.” You teased, eyes flickering to his lips in hopes he would kiss you again. Your last jab seemed to motivate him to do so, but this time he didn’t seem as enthusiastic.

“Careful.” He warned. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty, or I wouldn’t be so nice.”

“How thoughtful.” You made sure your sarcasm was apparent. He seemed fired up at your response, but was not comfortable enough with you yet to show it. Or, perhaps he was afraid to scare you away. “Any other rules I should keep in mind?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, happy you asked. “You refer to me as ‘Sir’.” You had to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. The request was silly to you, and he was aware that you thought so. You had little desire to refer to someone you just met as ‘Sir’. Even if the dom/sub dynamic was something you enjoyed, you couldn’t deny that you liked to push buttons, and his seemed like so much fun to mess with.

“I think that’s a title you have to earn, don’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, feeling him tense under your touch. He shifted his hold on your face, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers and raising an eyebrow at you. The look in his eye made you believe that his patience was already beginning to run thin. You fought back an eye roll, but couldn’t ignore the throbbing feeling between your legs that was growing stronger by the second. “Whatever you want, Sir.” You made sure to accentuate the emotion in the word, showcasing your feelings about the situation.

“Lose the attitude,” he ordered, but seemed pleased with the compliance. “If you’re good for me, I’ll be good to you.” Even in his dominating performance, he seemed to be gentle with you. He did not want to push you too far on the first try, mostly because he wanted to ensure you would come back for more. He liked you, and not just because he thought you were gorgeous. He liked the fire that seemed to burn in your heart, and the way you always had a comeback for any of his comments. He was not shy to admit that he was completely infatuated with you, and even if he was not interested in dating, he did think it would be a shame if he could not see you again once the night was through.

“I’ll be so good for you, Sir. I promise.” A smirk was plastered across your lips as you spoke, driving him crazy without even trying too hard. You couldn’t help yourself from messing with him. He was extremely attractive and you were very interested in what he had to offer, but you had never been the type to take orders without a fight. It appeared like he loved order, and you had always loved pushing boundaries.

It was a match made in hell, and both of you were completely blind to it.

“And you think I talk a lot?” He questioned, giving a hard tug on the fabric of your underwear. It tightened against your skin only for a moment before it snapped, giving him the freedom to do as he pleased with you.

“Hey,” you protested, your eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. “Those were expensive.”

“I’ll replace them.” He assured you, sliding his hand to the other side to do the same.

“So you’re offering to be a sugar daddy, now? Didn’t know that was part of the deal.” You huffed, using your hands to prop yourself up off the counter. With your new position, he removed the ripped fabric from you completely.

“Offering to replace what I destroyed doesn’t mean I’m paying you to fuck me.” He said, bunching the skirt of your tight dress and pushing it to your hips. You let yourself back down on the counter, the cool marble taking you by surprise. “I don’t need to pay you for that. We both know you’ll be back on your own accord.”

“You’re awfully sure of yourself.” You argued, watching as his fingertips dusted over your bare thighs. You wanted to quiver under the touch, but you couldn’t allow him the satisfaction. His eyes flickered to your face, clearly displeased by your constant rebuttals. “Sir.” You added, noticing the muscles in his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. He continued forward, inching his fingers between your legs. He gave one forceful move of his wrist and spread them for you. A gasp of surprise slipped out as he brought his fingers to your cunt and ran them through the arousal that was pooling.

“And you talk a lot of shit for someone who wants to get fucked.” His voice was low, now completely unconcerned about your bratty attitude. He was done with the conversation, and he was more than ready to get you to stop talking. His fingers gathered the wetness, slowly trailing upward to your clit. He started with slow circles, his touch light as a feather and only serving as a reminder of what you were there for. You leaned back slightly, allowing him easier access to you. “Now, let’s hear something worthwhile come out of your mouth.” He applied a bit more pressure, the feeling already distracting you from your desire to argue. “How does that feel, angel?” He asked, sliding his thumb in place of his fingers and continuing his earlier pace.

“G-good,” you stuttered, amazed at the pleasure he was giving you just from the small movement. You weren’t sure if it was so good because of his talent, or if it had just been too long since you had felt the touch of another like such. At the positive nature of your comment, he found enough generosity to slowly add his fingers to you, pumping them slowly to give you some extra stimulation. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, letting your head fall forward to rest on his own forehead. He could not chastise you for not using the term he’d asked you to, mostly because the pet name sounded so beautiful coming from your mouth.

In that moment, he was certain he would let you call him whatever you wanted as long as you said it in the same sweet tone.

“This is what you wanted, hmm?” He whispered, moving his thumb in time with the pump of his fingers, keeping the pace as the pressure steadily began rising in your belly. “Is this why you were being so bratty? You just wanted me to touch you?”

“Yes, sir.” You muttered, eyes fluttering closed as he curled his fingers upwards. He was making you feel far too good for you to want to disobey his orders.

“So, that’s the trick.” He chuckled, eyes intently focused on his hand working at your cunt. “Just need to give you some attention and that will shut you up.” He rasped, the sight of you nearly sending him feral. He was desperate for relief himself, but unwilling to show it until he knew you were well taken care of. If he wanted you to come back, he needed to give you something to make you want to come back.

“Please, don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling a thin layer of sweat form over your face. Your heart was pounding against your chest and your breathing was laboured. The pressure was unbearable, and the threat of an orgasm was imminent. You could not even find it within yourself to hold off, nor taunt him any further. It had been so long since you had felt pleasure at the hands of another, and you had never felt it quite it the same as he was giving you.

“Already?” He teased, but his tone was incredibly soft. He didn’t care that you were already there, and if anything, he took it as a compliment to his work. “Has nobody been taking care of you, angel?” He made it a point to perfect his movements, not wanting to lose the momentum even for a second. “Answer me,” he whispered, but the order was firm.

“N-no,” you shook your head against him, honesty radiating from you. You couldn’t really hide anything in such an intimate display, and you knew even if you tried to lie to him, he would easily see through you. “Nobody.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, sweet girl.” He assured you. The pet name washed over you like summer rain, enveloping you in warmth and surrounding you with a comfort that would last as long as he continued to touch you. “I’ll take care of her, just like she deserves.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his words, overwhelmed by the vulgarity and weak from the heartfelt promise. He felt you clench around his fingers, knowing that you were ready to come undone. He was more than willing to give you the orgasm, almost as desperate as you were for it. After an entire night of only being shot down, the gratification from taking you for his own was unexplainable. “Cum for me, angel. I know you want to.” He purred, moving his free hand to the back of your head for extra support. The last thing he wanted was for you to lose balance and be distracted from the pleasure.

“Oh, god.” You groaned, eyes screwed shut as your mind dissolved into nothing but thoughts about the man before you. You were praying to him as if he were the god that created the earth for you to walk on, and in that moment, he was. As the orgasm washed over you, the only thing to exist in the entirety of the universe was Jake, and you were perfectly content with the power he possessed.

But, he was not a god, nor anything holy. Jake was the devil reincarnate, and he was not there as a reward for your courageous sacrifices. He was there as punishment for every mistake and every sin you had committed in this lifetime and all the ones before. In that moment, he seemed like he was put in your life as a blessing, a gift for the troubles you had endured, but the reality was harsh and you were completely blind to it. When your mind cleared and the haze of sexual tension lifted, you were able to look deeper into the ties that held you together with him, but even then it did not seem to matter. His work was done, and you had fallen victim to the temptation. Jake would be the solution to every sexual desire that you could even imagine would come, but he would be the root cause for a world of trouble you had been desperately trying to stay away from.

Jake was the type of person you could fall in love with, and despite your hatred for dating and all things that came along with it, you were in long past in love just by the first touch. You were addicted to him, and dependancy was infinitely worse than love according to your standards. The power he possessed in his hands was otherworldly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine what else he had in store for you. Your agreement for a single night would be the worst decision you had ever made, but like all bad decisions, you would not realize the extent of the issue until it was long past repairable.

You were brought back to reality by Jake removing his hand from you. The loss of contact was nearly excruciating, and you were desperate for him to keep going until the both of you collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. Even then, you were sure you could still find enough energy to wrap yourself around him once more. “How was that, angel?” He hummed, pulling back from you only slightly. You looked up at him, your eyes heavy-lidded and your body still trembling with the ghost of the orgasm.

“It was so good,” you sighed, already reminiscing on the memory. He gave you a smirk, so small that it was barely noticeable, but you picked up on it. You were certain that you would study ever minuscule detail and movement until it drove you to insanity. He was so captivating that he was the only thing you wanted to know about. He raised his fingers to his lips, sliding his middle finger in his mouth while holding a steady eye contact with you. When his finger landed on his tongue, his eyes fluttered closed in bliss, savouring the taste of your orgasm for as long as he could. After a few seconds, he pulled the digit from his lips, leaving a slight echo of a pop ringing through the air.

“Taste even better than I imagined.” He muttered. Your entire body prickled with an unfamiliar feeling, and you thought you might come undone again just at the sight. Your skin was ablaze with arousal, and your chest was burning with need for him. You had little care about what he was going to do next, and you were just happy to be on the receiving end of it. “See, it wasn’t so hard to be good for me, was it?”

“No, sir.” You breathed, watching him in awe. He took in a long breath, letting the word settle deep in his bones with pride.

“Can you keep being a good girl for me?” He asked, his voice barely breaking through the air.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, making sure he knew you were being truthful. He smiled at the sound, crouching down slightly and hooking his legs under your thighs. Gently, he brought you to the edge of the countertop, wasting no time before bringing his mouth to your cunt. It was a fantastic apology for the withdrawal of his hands, and it send you straight back into a cloud of euphoria. Your hands snaked to his hair, pulling at the roots in attempt to get him closer than he already was.

His tongue found your clit with little hesitation, and he was working at you like a man starved. His fingers were branding your thighs with marks bound to last long past the excitement, and you didn’t care a bit about it. The evil laced within the movements of his tongue was incomprehensible, much greater than anything he had bestowed upon you with his fingers. You wanted to believe that the man nestled between your thighs was purely human that had just been blessed with otherworldly charm, but you were beginning to have your doubts about the matter. You feared that he was an entity you had not yet encountered, one with strength and power you could not comprehend.

By the first touch, you were in too deep to pull yourself out, and now, you had done nothing but cement the foundation of the entanglement so strongly that not even an earthquake could shake it. He was so powerful that he made it seem natural, and it was almost terrifying. He could leech your life supply directly from the source without you even noticing, and once he began, it felt too good to stop him. He made it appear that you were the one controlling the situation, yet the control had never even been close enough for your fingertips to graze. He was inhuman, and that much you were sure of. The evil was so abundant inside of him that not even a priest could expel it enough to free him.

You knew this to be true, because as your eyes drifted downwards towards him, you could have sworn you saw the shadow of devil horns on the wall when the city lights broke through the darkness just right.

You did not have the luxury to focus on your revelations, because he had brought his hand back to you and continued at his earlier pace. A guttural moan tore from your chest, the feeling overwhelming and making it unable to focus on anything other than him. You finally understood why he was not interested in dating; he was so good at sex that it would be a waste of talent to only share it with one person. It made you curious as to why he was interested in a casual relationship with you, and why he thought that you were the golden ticket to fulfilling all of his needs. You were not anything fantastic, nor were you offering him anything substantial. You could not understand the potential he saw in you, but if he was willing to give you the promise of his hands and his tongue, you would be a fool to refuse it.

You were certain you could not only live, but thrive off the pleasure he was giving you for the rest of your life. If he was interested in a casual commitment to each other, low effort but with a glorious reward, you were more than happy to participate in the agreement. You were certain enough in yourself to cut him off if it got too intense, and you were committed enough to your own security to know when it was time to end things. In the meantime, harmless fun sounded fantastic, and he could provide just that. Besides, he looked too ethereal with his head between your thighs to worry about any consequences. Despite it only being the first time, he was so effortless with his work that it appeared as if he always belonged there.

“Fuck, Jake.” You hissed, finding it hard to keep holding yourself upright. Your arm was shaking underneath the weight of your body, and you cared so little about falling that you didn’t even bother to stop him so you could reposition. The pressure in your belly was intense, letting you know that you were close to the end anyway, and you didn’t need to take any precaution. If he continued at the same pace, you wouldn’t be able to contain your second orgasm of the night.

He hummed against you, showing his enthusiasm about your enjoyment. He made sure to curl his fingers again, remembering that you had enjoyed it the first time he had done it. A rush of pleasure ran through you and your legs involuntarily tightened against his head. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, completely disconnected from your brain and doing whatever it could to keep him there. The movement did not deter him, but only encouraged him further. With one last flick of his tongue in just the right place, you were driven over the edge and crying out his name. Your whole body was rigid, the intensity unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. If his intent truly was to give you the best sex of your life, he had went above and beyond to accomplish it, and you weren’t even to the best part, yet.

He slowly pulled back as he noticed you relax against him, instead peppering kisses on the insides of your thighs. As you both attempted to catch your breath, the tension in the air was at an all time high. You were eager for more, and he was eager to get started. When your mind cleared and you were able to form a coherent thought, you looked down at him with adoration sparkling in your eyes. “Blue.” You whispered, your voice raspy and your throat coarse from the noises he had pried from you. He looked up at the sound, unable to hide the smile on his face. His eyes told you that you had just given him the greatest compliment he’d ever received.

“Really?” He said as if he were pondering the truth of the statement. “I’m just getting started.”

“Really.” You sighed, nodding your head. It was a sad sigh, mostly because you hated admitting that he had been right all along. But, you had always been one to believe that you should give credit where credit is due, and this was definitely a perfect example of the philosophy. “I’ll even clean your counters for you, since I was the one who made the mess.” You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush.

“Don’t worry about that,” he brushed you off, rising to his feet. “That was the best meal this kitchen has ever seen.” You rolled your eyes at the comment, but couldn’t help the smile that was blossoming on your lips. Even in his boyish humour, there was still an unexplainable charm laced into it. Everything about him was irresistible, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him. You held on to his arm for support as you got down off the counter, refusing to let go until you were steady on your feet. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him into another kiss. The suddenness distracted him from his comment, and he was immediately immersed in you once again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, a gentle tease and a thank you for his service. You could feel him start to smile as you pulled away.

Without any further conversation, you slowly sunk to your knees in front of him. It took him a second to process your change in direction, but he certainly could not find a complaint about it. He was painfully hard, his erection strained against his pants as he waited for you to proceed. You made the process as slow as possible, needing to resume your commitment to your teasing. You knew it was driving him crazy, and if you had to admit, you loved it. You brought your hand to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it from the loops. You discarded it on the floor, moving next to the button and zipper. You unzipped it painfully slow, making sure to hold eye contact with him while you did so. With his help, his pants were also discarded in the floor, leaving him only in his boxers.

Your mouth was watering at the thought of what was beneath the thin material, eager to please him after such a phenomenal performance from him. With a little courage, you took the final step in freeing him from his boxers. You felt another rush of arousal straight to your core at the sight. He was desperate for relief, but he was allowing you to make the first move; as excited as he was, he cared greatly about your comfortability and wanted you to know you had the option to change your mind if needed. You moved forward, parting your lips slightly as you took him into your mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure at the feeling, the stimulation small but still fantastic. The sound gave you a boost of confidence, knowing that he would enjoy whatever you were offering him.

You relaxed your jaw, focusing on his head just for a moment. You let your tongue flick over the sensitive area a few times, revelling in the sounds of enjoyment coming from him. You thought they were the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard, and you would go to the ends of the earth to continue pleasing him just to hear them again. After a moment, you drew in a long breath before taking him in further. You took him far enough for the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat, then you began to bob your head. His head fell backwards in bliss as his hand reached to gather your hair from your face. You let out a moan against him, the vibration intensifying the feeling for him.

You had never been so willing to submit to a man, let alone a stranger on a one night stand, but you were willing to do it all for him. He was intoxicating, and you wanted to live in the filthy, drunken hookup for the rest of your life. It was exhilarating, and you had never experienced sex that was so enjoyable. Usually, the men talked themselves up so much that they inevitably underperformed. With some, it was easy to overlook the disappointment because they left you with an orgasm or two, but most didn’t even meet that quota. Never in your life had you found someone who was so concerned with your pleasure, and never one who was so willing to give before receiving anything himself. It was practically unheard of in modern dating and hookup culture, and you weren’t willing to let him slip through your fingers.

If he wanted casual with no strings attached, you would oblige to the request without any further hesitation. He had proved himself beyond anything you could have imagined, and your only hope was that you could do the same.

He let out a sigh, holding your hair tightly in his fist. He couldn’t stop himself from guiding your head down on him, the need for more too much to resist. “You look even prettier with my cock in your mouth.” He muttered, looking down at you while you tried to keep up with his guidance. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare through your lashes. He was feral looking, his jaw hard set with a flame dancing in his pupils. He was crazy for you, and he felt no need to hide it. You let out a hum of agreement, the vibration adding a little more energy to the sensation he was already experiencing. “Fuck, angel.” He groaned, adding a little more force to his hand. “Just tap my leg if you need me to stop.”

With that, he began moving your head for you, completely taking the control. He tried his best to keep it tolerable for you, but he was succumbing to the pleasure more with each second that passed. You tried your best to focus on your breathing rather than the feeling of him down your throat, but it was growing difficult with each thrust of his hips. Tears were forming in your eyes, smudging mascara down your cheeks, and you were fighting a gag with every movement. You were too stubborn to give up, but you had to admit that his size was a bit hard to handle. His grip on your hair was tight, and he seemed too enthralled in the moment to notice your struggle.

He pushed your head down on him, his cock sliding down your throat as his head fell back in bliss. Your eyes squeezed shut as your throat constricted around him, the gag no longer able to be prevented. He let out a long slur of curses laced with a moan, enjoying every second of your suffering. You had to admit that you were enjoying it too, and you knew that you would do it a million times over again just to please him. You felt him twitch in your mouth, a sure sign that he was close, but he wasn’t willing to risk ending the fun. He withdrew, finally allowing you a full breath of air. You coughed a few times, clearing your throat and bringing yourself back to reality. He kneeled down to your level, eyes carefully inspecting your face.

He did enjoy the sight of you so disheveled, but he worried that he went a little too far. He brought his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the tear stains as you wiped your chin clean from any spit still lingering. “You want me to fuck you now, baby?”

“Yes, please.” You muttered, nodding your head eagerly. He helped you to your feet, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss that lasted only a few seconds.

“Let’s get this off of you.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands snaking under the bunched up material of your dress. You pulled back from him, lifting your arms and allowing him to slip it over your head. He tossed it to the floor, but his eyes were only focused on your now fully exposed body. He took in a long breath, trying his best to contain the filthy thoughts he was having, but it was showing clearly in his expression alone. You watched him, silent and unmoving while you awaited his next move. Slowly, he brought his hands back to you, gentle in his touch as if he thought you were fragile. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen some so beautiful before and he wanted to take his time to fully admire you.

His hands dropped to your hips as he guided you towards him and your hands reached out for him, already yearning to feel him on your skin again. He kissed you again, more intense than the one before and this time, he didn’t seem keen on breaking it. In a swift motion, he picked you up once more. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Instead of placing you on the counter again, he turned around and broke the kiss just for a moment to see what his next move would be. His eyes landed on the kitchen table, his train of thought apparent without him even speaking a word. He took two steps forward, holding you tightly with one hand to make sure he wouldn’t drop you. He inspected the surface that was littered with papers and journals full of half-written songs.

With little care, he took his free hand and swiped away all of the items with a single movement. You turned your head, looking to watch all of papers float to the floor with little grace. You couldn’t deny that his actions only turned you on more; the desperation laced within his solution was hot, much like everything else he had done that night. He bent down, placing you on the table with caution. He let his hands fall back to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the table so he could have easy access to you. His hand drifted to your lower back as he brought his lips to your neck, finding the most sensitive spots straight away. You barely knew him, and you barely knew anything about him, but he seemed to know your body better than anyone ever had before. It was like he had a greater understanding of you than even yourself.

A breathy moan sounded from you as he sucked light marks into the skin just below your ear. One of his hands came to your chest, happy that your lack of clothing was giving him the opportunity to know all of you. He let his thumb drift over your nipple, sending a surge of electricity straight through you. Everything he was doing felt amazing, but you were done with the foreplay, even if it was fantastic. The tension was so strong that you thought you might break underneath the weight of it.

“Please fuck me, Jake.” You begged, delirious from all of the stimulation that you were feeling. “I need you.” His eyes rolled back in his head at the sound, addicted to the feeling of being needed by you. It was better than any drug and stronger than any other addiction. He would do whatever he could to make sure you always wanted him that way.

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” He threw out the rhetoric, not expecting an answer from you. Instead he hiked your leg up and around him, making sure you took the hint to hold it there. “Didn’t realize you were such a little whore.” The word knocked the air from your lungs, replacing it with a venomous desire. Your chest was burning from how badly you needed him, and you knew that you would do anything just to be insulted by him, because even hurtful words sounded pleasant coming from his mouth. It was a luxury to be a whore for him, and you were an idiot for trying so hard to turn him down.

You felt him line himself up with your entrance, both of you aching for relief, knowing that the sex was bound to be beyond anything you had been imagining all night. “You want me, angel?” He asked, his voice husky and filled with lust. You caught sight of his eyes, which were now completely unfamiliar to you. The warm brown that was so inviting was not black with desire, and a different man was standing before you.

If you had to admit, you liked this one much better.

“Please, sir. Need you inside of me.” You whispered, sweetly and softly to coax him into giving you what you wanted. The gentle tone seemed to drive him over the edge, and without any further consideration, he pushed himself inside you. You both let out a mutual sigh of satisfaction at the feeling, but you were both already wanting more. He could not bother with a slow start, knowing that neither of you wanted to take things easy. His rocked his hips while keeping a firm hold on your hips, making sure nothing could disturb the long awaited pleasures.

You wrapped an arm around his neck, already finding yourself bargaining with an orgasm. If he was an evil entity, his trade was sex, and you knew he could use it for punishment and reward. Something about him was otherworldly, and you started to fear that your agreement with him would ultimately be your demise. He made you feel too good to want to let go of him, but the idea of the relationship getting messy was paralyzingly terrifying. At the same time, rationality was only second to the way he made you feel, and heartbreak was a risk you were willing to take to indulge in his sin.

“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He did not need to ask the question; he already knew the answer, and the affirmation was solely to further his growing ego.

“Feels so fucking good.” You whimpered, struggling to keep your leg wrapped around him while he continued on his brutal pace. He was hitting the perfect angle, a pleasurable pain shooting through you with every re-entry. He used his arm to guide your upper half down towards the table, and you used a free hand to hold yourself up.

“Being so good for me, angel.” His fingers reached between your legs while his gaze stayed focused on your face, enthralled in the expressions you were making. Your eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he found your clit again, rubbing circles as he continued to fuck you. You thought it almost comical that he called you angel, because you were so convinced that he was the devil. The two did not seem to coincide with each other, yet you remained tangled up in each other in what felt like perfect harmony.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, much more intense than you expected, and it was a feeling you wished to have forever. You would be perfectly content if you lived out your next sixty years in the same position, with his hands on you and his sweet words whispered in your ear. His fingers focused on your already sensitive clit was driving you near insanity. You weren’t sure if he was naturally good at what he did, or if he was trying extra hard to ensure you would come back to him. Either way, you were certain that when the morning came and you sobered up, you would still want him just the same. Days would pass, and you would be knocking on his door begging for a shred of what he gave you the first night you spent together. It was so good that you didn’t even care if he played the same game with every girl he picked up at the bar, because even if it was a reused version of his character, it was working. Every movement, every slight touch and sweet word that came from his mouth seemed special, like it was perfectly crafted just for your taste. You wanted to believe that even if he was a player and you were a recluse that denounced love, the moments shared between you was of importance.

“Do you want to cum for me, baby?” His words came out in a slight slur, telling you that he was having a hard time holding back his own orgasm. The night was so full of excitement that you were both surprised he held on for as long as he did. He was ready to fuck you as soon as he laid his eyes on you in the bar, and everything that came after was pure torture. He was struggling with not succumbing to the temptation, mostly because he was determined to give you even more than he already had. Disappointment was not a factor he was willing to accept.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, noticing the movements of his fingers become more precise. His free hand rose to your neck, his fingers gently clasping around it to give you a chance to speak up against the action. You were so strung out from the pleasure that you were sure he could do whatever he wanted to you and you would never be able to find a complaint about it. When he was certain you were comfortable with his actions, his fingers tightened ever so slightly, beginning to restrict the blood flow to your head.

You took in a long breath, the burning in the pit of your stomach growing stronger by the second. You let your eyes close to focus on the pleasure, feeling your heartbeat pound in your ears. “Come on, angel.” His gentle encouragement was heavenly paired with the movement of his fingers and his hips. You were barely hanging on, and as his hand tightened around your neck again, all of the nerves in your body ignited with a fire that was impossible to contain.

“Jake,” you warned, but the words were weak and the rasp in your voice made it near impossible to hear. He was listening intently though, and he heard it as clear as day. It was nothing but motivation for him, driving him to keep going. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was most concerned with making you feel good. His pleasure came second to yours, and it was not up for debate.

Your head began to spin and your legs started to shake. The earth felt like it was turned upside down and it was spinning out of control. The orgasm tore through you in a violent fashion, but you couldn’t seem to find the energy to voice it to him. He slowly released his hold on your neck and instead moved his hand to the back of your head to hold you upright. You took in a long breath, unsure if you would ever be able to fill your lungs with the air you so desperately needed. “That’s it,” he muttered, slowing his hips slightly to allow you to recover “that’s my girl.” The words send another rush of pleasure through you, extending the climax even further.

You were exhausted, but he was far from done. As you regained some control over your body and mind, he ceased the movement of his fingers. “That was amazing.” You sighed, clearing your throat from the rasp that was still lingering.

“Yeah?” He crooned, a cocky smile on his lips. Once he was sure you were well and fully recovered, he withdrew and used his arm to slide you off of the table. When your feet hit the floor, he wasted no time turning you around and guiding your upper half down towards the table. “You think you can keep being good for me?” He asked, the tip of his cock already eagerly resting against your cunt. You let out a mutter of agreement, too tired to speak the words to him. “Just a little bit longer, sweet girl.” He promised, reaching up and twisting your hair into his fist.

With that, he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling amplified even further due to the ghost of your last orgasm. You were extremely sensitive, almost so much so that you questioned if you could keep going. Once he started a steady rhythm and you were pulled back into pleasure, you knew you could. You would do anything to give back the feeling that he was giving you. “Oh, god.” You groaned, the angle in which he was moving already driving you crazy. His hand tightened on your hair, pushing your head further down on the table. Your cheek was pressed against it, but he wasn’t holding you too harshly in fear of hurting you. The legs of the table were rocking with his movement, and as he sped, you feared that it might break under the pressure.

“You take it so good, angel.” He muttered, but he was no longer talking to you; he was so lost in the sex that he had no filter for his thoughts. Anything and everything that came to mind was ultimately spoken, mostly because he could not find the will to hold it back. “Such a good little whore.” You let out a shaky breath, the words settling deep in your stomach, blossoming into the beginning of another orgasm. His free hand raised and his palm came down on your ass with a loud smack. It sent a jolt of pain through you, making you jump under the touch. “Can you give me one more?” He asked, his hips stuttering as he tried his best to keep his composure.

“I don’t know,” you were honest with him, knowing that you would love to comply with every one of his wishes, but also knowing that even the thought of another orgasm was exhausting. Your body was tired, and so was your mind. He was pushing you as far as you could go, but you were more than happy to let him do it.

“I know you can, sweetheart. Just one more.” He said, but it was a plea hidden inside a powerful tone. He needed you to come again, just so he could ensure he gave you as much as he possibly could.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your body doing all of the decision making for you. The knot in your stomach was tight, and your legs were locked in position to brace yourself for the intensity of the pleasure. The more he spoke to you, the more certain you felt about being unable to withstand another climax. Then again, you were sure he could convince you of anything if he was using the same sultry tone of voice.

“That’s it, baby.” He reinforced the idea, hoping you would submit to the feeling and stop worrying.

“I can’t,” you shook your head against his grip, knowing that you were long past your limit, even if your body was trying to convince you otherwise. The feeling of him inside you was so good that it was nearly painful, and your entire body was ablaze with overstimulation. He let his hand come down on your ass again, the sound echoing through the room and making home in the walls, permanently cementing the memory there. Neither of you would ever be able to look at the room the same way after such a filthy display was made in it.

“You can,” he pressed, not liking the disobedient attitude. He continued on with the steady movement of his hips, and before you knew it, you descended into a whole new type of pleasure below him. Your entire body seemed to give out from underneath you. Your legs were vibrating and tears were forming in your eyes as a slur of moans and curses fell from your lips. He slipped his arm underneath your hips, holding you up so there was no fear of you falling. Your walls were clenched around him, and you thought that the intensity alone would kill you. “Fuck, y/n.” He hissed, absolutely smitten by the state of you.

His own orgasm came harshly, sending him into a similar state of euphoria. His movements stuttered, and he was holding you up while trying not to topple over himself. Eventually, once you both seemed to relax, he slowed his hips to a near stop. He looked down at the sight, his jaw clenched as he fucked his release back into you. He was almost disappointed that the fun had come to an end, but he knew that you were much too tired to continue on. Carefully, he withdrew from you while continuing to hold you steady. “You okay, sweetheart?” The concern in his voice was astounding.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes refusing to open. You were so tired that you could have fallen asleep standing there, and your body was aching from the nights excitement.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke softly, so different from the way he was speaking to you only moments before. He removed his hand from your hair and helped you off the table. When you were steady on your feet, he let his hand fall on your lower back in a gentle embrace, full of concern and care. He guided you to the bathroom where you both cleaned yourself and erased any evidence from the sinful experience you had engaged in. When you were finished, you returned to the kitchen and made a move to grab your dress. “What are you doing?” He chuckled, watching you with curiosity.

“Getting my clothes so I can go home.” You answered, but the sleepiness was making it hard to formulate the words.

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head, walking to meet you. He grabbed the dress from your hand and tossed it back on the floor before nudging you in the direction of his bedroom. “There’s no way I’m letting you get in a cab like that. I can take you home tomorrow.”

“I’m okay,” you tried to argue, but you were melting into the warm touch of his hands.

“You’re staying here, end of discussion.” He said, making sure you knew that he would not allow you to leave. “I’m not putting you in a taxi with a stranger while you’re this drunk and tired. Who knows what could happen.” He mumbled, the second part was more to himself than anything else. It almost seemed as if he was ashamed of caring so deeply.

“You’re a stranger, Jake.” You reminded him, but your eyes landed on the bed and you immediately felt a change of heart. It was screaming with coziness, the blankets and pillows more inviting than anything you’d ever seen before.

“Don’t think you can call me a stranger anymore, sweetheart.” He laughed, opening his dresser to grab you a t-shirt to sleep in. He tossed it on the bed so you could grab it, which you did while uttering a small thank you. You slipped it over your head, the smell of his cologne was overwhelming and oddly comforting. You pulled back the comforter and slid into the bed, your eyes immediately closing in bliss. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” He said, the sound causing you to crack an eye open in surprise.

“What?” You asked, baffled at his statement. “No, you can… I mean, if you want to… I don’t think it’s fair if I get the bed and you get the couch.” Your words came out in a jumbled mess, and your thoughts were just the same. “I can stay on the couch, or we can both… yeah.” You felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment. You weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk or if it was because he was hot, but you were flustered and apparently, no good at hiding it.

“You’re sure you’re with me being in bed, too?” He didn’t speak a word about your nervous rambling. He didn’t want to embarrass you further, and in truth, he didn’t really care. He was only concerned about your comfort.

“Yeah.” You assured him. “Like you said, not really strangers anymore.” You laughed.

“That’s true.” He nodded, slipping on a pair of boxers and climbing under the covers, too. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him.

“Pushing it.” You said, but humour was clear in your tone.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” He laughed as you relaxed against him.

And sleep you did, carelessly and peacefully, unknowing and uncaring about the world of trouble you had created in just one small lapse of judgement. The morning would come and your senses would return, but it was far too late to stop the situation from descending into the chaos you were so desperate to avoid. His web was spun, and you were caught, even if neither of you were aware of the mistakes you had made that inevitably landed you there. The first deadly sin was committed, soon to be followed by six more, and not even a confession nor repenting could save you from your own wrongdoings.

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 1774 words

a/n: ahhhh it's so surreal to know so many of you like this story!! thank you, thank you thank you so much!! your comments, likes and reblogs mean the absolute world to me!! I already have another fic in mind that I can't wait to share hehe. I was hoping to have this posted yesterday but the week was a bit busier. I'm aiming to post twice a week now that the story will pick up from here! hope you enjoy this chapter!! lots of love <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3

Things hadn't been the same for the boys anymore. It was six months since you disappeared, without any trace and they were unable to locate you with their bond. Fear had engulfed them when they were told of the attack. They wasted no time in getting back to the mansion to protect you, as their mate and alpha protectiveness senses rang out.

But when they returned, you were nowhere to be found. Cleo, who had been saved by a member of the pack recounted what happened up until you two went separate ways. They searched for you but came back with no clues.

Where did you go? 

In fact, when they tried to call for you through the soul bond, they discovered how strained the bond had become. 

Slowly, each member began to realise just how little they had seen or been with you, and could not even recall the last time you spent time together. At first they tried to deny the truth, surely, there had to be another reason? They couldn’t fathom not taking notice sooner and allowing the connection to reach like this. 

Hongjoong's father wasted no time in educating them about their actions when they came to him seeking answers, especially when his wife tried to pipe in.

“It’s your fault.” he declared unapologetically. 

As he recounted everything to them, they were shattered and distraught by their actions. It dawned on them how ignorant they were to assume that you would always be there no matter what. If there was anything they were taught, it was how precious life is and how important it is to care for those around you. 

How could they do this to you?

"We all make mistakes." Mr. Kim said, "But one can only be redeemed, when he’s willing to learn from it and make a change."

After that confrontation, neither of the boys were the same again. With you now apart from them, your missing presence was felt more than ever in the home. Yeosang walked the mansion’s hall completely despondent, hoping to possibly find you in the little corner where the two of you read, every time he entered the room. Alas, you were not there. When Yunho woke up every morning and heard movement in the kitchen, his heart raced as he believed it was perhaps you, making breakfast just as you always would…but it was only Seonghwa who carried about low-spirited and disheartened. Yunho noticed the dark circles that were forming under the eldest eyes - Seonghwa never slept like he used to, getting approximately 3 to 4 hours of sleep and waking up at daybreak, trying to busy himself so he could forget the aching feeling in his chest just for a little while. He didn’t cry but rather, bottled up his emotions since being the eldest, he felt like he needed to be the strong one for the others. But, like every glass that reaches its brim, Seonghwa finally broke down when Yunho approached and back-hugged him in the tightest hug possible as he let his own tears fall. 

Unlike Seonghwa, San and Jongho slept all day when they could and only left their rooms, if it was for something important. But nothing else felt important except you, so much to their disdain, they ventured out of their rooms, only to head straight back once they got home. Wooyoung became quieter and stuck to Yeosang like glue. He didn’t do or say anything much, he was just there. Sometimes he would stare at the front door, hoping to see you waltz in with your charming smile and he could rush to you and spin you around like he always did. And then playfully scold you and then apologise profusely.

However, there was one particular wolf who was extremely impacted to the point where nothing could comfort him. While the others still tried to find solace in sleep or in each other, Mingi was unable to find consolation in anything. He felt like his heart had been ripped off his chest and there was a void that was only something you could fill. But they still couldn't find you. Mingi tried to initiate the bond hoping that you would feel it and call out to him, but like all the other times he tried, there was no response. He cried until the early hours of the morning and he could not sleep. Even if he dozed off, his dreams were of you and then he would jolt awake again, the aching, distressful and bitter void resurfacing again and he remembers you’re still not here. Then the cycle would continue.

As the boys coped differently, the most different was Hongjoong, who by all accounts had become emotionless and also very mean. He would let Lila wrap her arms around him as if they were a couple, he would try to bring her home only to have Seonghwa immediately denounce it and make it abundantly clear that this kind of behaviour would not be allowed or tolerated. Lila would leave the second she stepped foot into the foyer and Seonghwa and Hongjoong would have it out until the latter stomped off to his room never to be heard from again until the next morning. And that was if anyone did see him. He would leave before Seonghwa came out of his room. It took all effort in Mingi when he did see Hongjoong to not punch him in the jaw. He did not know what he was playing at, and quite frankly, he did not care to know Hongjoong's excuses as he was already extremely fed up, especially because of the way Hongjoong's mother spoke.

"Maybe you should forget her and move on with someone else," she said as she eyed Lila, “The pack needs their Luna and people are talking.”

That was during a family dinner with all their respective families. First and foremost, Mingi was not amused. He was already dragged to the dining hall against his will, and then when he saw Lila present standing next to Hongjoong, he was ready to just explode into thin air. And then, Hongjoong’s mom decided to speak, and that was the last straw. 

It didn't take even a second for Mingi to slam his hands on the table and get up with a low growl in his throat.

“With all due respect Mrs Kim, I suggest you stay out of our personal lives and let us handle it on our own. Your comments are very unnecessary.” he seethed venomously. 

 Mingi then stalked off, slamming the door behind him. He didn't care if he was disrespectful, he was fed up with the nonsense. It baffled him as to why Mrs Kim had such disdain for you, ever since he met you, you told him about her low tolerance for you but there was never a clear indication as to why. 

He knew you were still alive and he knew the other boys felt it too. Your soul connection was still there, though strained, he could feel it lingering. But where exactly were you? He was interrupted by Wooyoung shouting his name.

“Mingi wait!”

“What are you doing here Wooyoung?”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave like that, not everyone is pleased at your outburst.”

“And? I do not care Wooyoung, I’m not going back to listen to Mrs Kim spew ridiculous nonsense. Lila shouldn’t even be there.”

“I know and I agree. Mrs Kim has wanted to replace Y/N since the beginning but she should know better than to even suggest something like that.”

“Go back and tell them I won’t be coming back any time soon. I need to clear my head.”

“Fine but please reach out, I can’t lose you too…” Wooyoung muttered.

Mingi turned to the black-haired boy and saw the fear in his eyes. Wooyoung is the second youngest and basked in being taken care of, doted on and adored by you. In contrast to Jongho who was more reserved most of the time and sought you out privately, Wooyoung, although an alpha, is like a playful child. You were right in between Mingi and Wooyoung in age and so, right before you came Mingi and at a time like this, Wooyoung saw Mingi as the closest.

“I will, don’t worry.” he answered in a soothing and reassuring tone.

After Wooyoung left and Mingi decided he wasn't going back home to get an earful from his parents, he sauntered off towards the lake and the Moon temple. 

He recalled Cleo saying it was the direction you went when you two broke off. Maybe he could find something there.

Arriving at the clearing of the lake, he saw the shimmering blue water glistening under the moonlight. It was another full moon, just like when you disappeared. He had to spend the holidays and his birthday without you and he hated it. Mingi couldn’t even recollect the times he had spent holidays and birthdays by himself. As soon as you and the boys came into his life, his life became a kaleidoscope of colours. 

When Mingi saw the temple, he felt his walls come down. He forgot about Mrs Kim’s comments and the anger that bubbled through his veins. Instead, the wave of pain and hurt opened like a locked dam and he fell on his knees in front of the temple, choked with tears.

"Please..." he cried, "Please bring her back. I need her. I-I was so wrong for what I did. I can't believe I treated her that way. I promise! I'll do better! I won't ever neglect her again. Please bring my angel back. Please."

Mingi sobbed and sobbed profusely that he didn't hear the rumble the first time. He thought it was his stomach and now was definitely not a good time. But then the second time, when he realised it was coming from elsewhere, he turned around to see the ripples in the lake and how much more brightly the water shone under the moonlight. It was mystical and divine. He approached the lake cautiously, he couldn't explain it, but he felt a pull and for some reason…he felt you. Your tie to him and your aura felt to be coming from the lake. But was that possible? He pushed away any intrusive thoughts, focusing solely on you, a clear image of your bright smile and eyes lit up etched into his mind. It was the way you would always look at him as you cupped his face in your hand and teased him before kissing him.

Mingi inched closer, trying to take his time.

But then he fell in.

[whiskersz]

hiya, sos idk if you do platonic fics but if you do can you do a platonic husk x younger reader? maybe they knew each other when they were alive and meet again and husk is protective over them? thank u! :)

Hello! I sure do write platonic relationships :3 I hope this is good enough, in this I imagine Reader to be a young adult, around 20. Hope that's okay, thanks for requesting!

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Hell is…well. You wouldn’t really know how else to describe it, other than with its name. And deep inside you know you’re a sinner, there’s no denying that if you ended up here...but you feel like you could never get used to living like this.

Even in life, you’ve never been a fan of gory scenarios, robberies, violence and whatnot, and if anything you could say that the reason why you ended up here is because of a stupid mistake you made, but Heaven couldn’t take you in because of that, so now you find yourself here...in front of the Hazbin Hotel, hoping for a last chance at redemption.

Before you can even knock on the door tough, you’re welcomed by an eerie shadow quickly taking the form of an individual right before your very eyes;

“Greetings fellow Sinner!” He welcomes you with a wide smile, extending his hand for you to take, which you reluctantly do; “And welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! It’s a pleasure to be meeting you, I’m Alastor, and I will gladly be your host!”

His handshake is so firm it nearly makes you lose your balance; you compose yourself though, and nod, taking in all the information that’s been given to you – Alastor, the host...alright, that means you’re probably going to be safe with him especially once you’re inside.

“Thank you sir, I was just looking for someone willing to do that!” the nervousness is palpable in your voice, but you still try to match his energy by flashing him a smile. Alastor nods and opens the door for you like a true gentleman, which you thank him for.

The interior design of the place looks quite lovely in your opinion, the walls a deep red and pavements covered by gorgeous patterned rugs; various decorations make the main room more hospitable, and although you’re mesmerized by the place you carefully listen as Alastor explains that it would technically be a bit too early for newcomers to be welcomed, which is why nobody else other than him is around – you looked quite lost though, his word, so he decided to take it upon himself to at least bring you inside.

“Oh, I’m very sorry, I had no idea- I can always come back later, it’s not a-“

“Eh, what’s all the commotion about?”

A rough voice interrupts the exchange of words between you and Alastor; your gaze travels all the way towards the flight of stairs leading to the top floor, where a demon in the form of a winged anthropomorphic cat is standing.

His voice sounds curiously familiar.

“Ah, Husker! How goes it! Why don’t we start the introductions with you!” Alastor points at him with the staff he’s been using mostly to sustain his weight until now; “This is the bartender, dear.”

Husker? Now, that name sounds more than familiar.

“Husk?” you ask tentatively, studying his appearance.

His ears, formerly back, now stand up right, and his tail sways from side to side in what you can only assume is excitement.

“What...yes? Wait, it’s you?”  He whispers your name, still unbelieving.

You quickly leave Alastor’s side, running straight into Husk’s embrace instead; he immediately drapes a wing over you protectively, and you can’t really see it from where you’re positioned, but the glare he shoots the host is one of anger before his gaze softens looking at you once again.

“I’ve missed you...” you admit, before realization hits you; “Wait, you’re in Hell? Why?”

“I should be asking the same thing, kid. Let’s leave explanations for later, yeah? Always told you I wasn’t a good person.”

His wing pulls you closer, and you savour the embrace for as long as you can before you reluctantly have to separate from him.

“Well, I suppose that is my cue to leave!” says Alastor, clasping his hands together before eerily disappearing back into the shadows.

Shortly after, the rest of the residents of the Hotel sleepily make their own appearance. This time, it’s Husk’s job to introduce you to everyone, never leaving your side all the while. Charlie is especially excited to have one more patient who is also one of Husk’s old friends, as he doesn’t seem to have many after all.

Husk immediately makes sure to shelter you from Angel Dust’s dirty jokes; as much as he and Angel get along, he finds it uncomfortable to hear him flirting with you. The spider demon initially calls him ‘not fun’, but he understands where he’s coming from and actually agrees with him as you’re much younger.

Once you and Husk have the time to catch up, you both explain the reason why you’ve ended up here to each other. Yes, you were close in life, but he’s always preferred keeping his life quite private and so have you, both keeping your sins to yourselves. You’re both glad you’re here though, on the right path for redemption...in one way or another.

You distinctly remember how he used to amaze you with his magic tricks back when you were alive; he’d host little shows just for you, your smile contagious as he showed you all that he was capable of.

You also remember the sadness you felt when the time to get separated came, but he had promised you that one day you would meet again. And now here you are, indeed. Though your reunion was unexpected, you’re still glad it happened.

Husk is happy to see that you get along with all of his friends, too. He tries to encourage you to stay away from Alastor and you gladly do so, as you don’t really want to engage with the owner of who you consider your best friend, but still put on a smile every time he talks to you to remain on his good side. Everyone else though, you’re on good terms with, and he couldn’t be happier that you found a safe place to stay at even though you unfairly ended up in Hell.

[kivino]

OUT OF THE SHADOWS I || SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X SHADOW!GN!READER

Word counter – ~6.9k words

Tags/Warnings – Gn!Reader, Shadow!Reader (it’s not for long lol, don’t get your hopes up), murder of civilians/corpses/blood mentioned, physical fights, reader likes to throw fists, Reader’s callsign is Bug to pay tribute to my original idea.

Summary – After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life. 

also available on my ao3!

a/n after the fic because they’re too long. but just know that this is the first chapter of the series, feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part. enjoy!

Everything was calm. The sound of rain covering up the murmur of trucks helped you wind down after the adrenaline rush, and a sense of accomplishment for a job well done swelled in your chest. You already anticipated a long sleep and maybe a night out with your friends when you’re back home from the job. Maybe you’d even get a bonus from Graves and buy something nice for yourself. 

In all honesty, you didn’t even mind being crammed into the backseat along with those 141 guys. Working with them was a pleasure and they seemed like an interesting sort of crowd. Especially that man with the skull mask. Ghost, was it? He certainly attracted your attention the most, with his huge size, booming voice, and undeniable skill in what he did. You were willing to admit that the way he took out the enemies with ease and swiftness was mesmerizing.  And…your train of thought that consisted of pure fascination was interrupted by the abrupt stop of the convoy in front of the base gate. 

Everything was calm until you were surrounded by shouting and then eventual gunshots, along with muffled screams of your brothers in arms. You didn’t understand how it all escalated so fast. One moment you were sure about Shadow Company and Task Force 141 being on the same side, but now you didn’t know what to think of it all. And from Graves' words, it was apparent that Shepherd was behind this too. So naturally you, and many other shadows, the lower ranks, had no fucking clue what all of this was about. One would care to tell a mindless weapon where to shoot, but not why. Blood rushed through your veins and pulsed in your ears, turning the pleasant buzz in your body into strained sharpness. You hurriedly pulled up the rear sight to your eye level. Two bodies dropped to the wet asphalt with soft thuds right in front of you. You felt your heart sink right down to your feet. Instead of firing your shots, you hesitated, backing out to hide behind the bumper of the truck, while hearing agitated, aggressive shouts. You weren’t able to tell who was shouting. So, you leaned out and felt yourself freeze in place. 

And there he is. Ghost, eyes locked right on you. He sure has a…strong presence. And instead of shooting you he just…looks. You don’t like the stupid flowery language, but in this split second, it really feels like he is staring right into your soul. Or like someone is sticking metal rods right through your chest, with how hard breathing becomes in an instant. 

You knew that if you were to shoot him right now, you’d never forgive yourself, all because you were kept in the dark about the whole thing Graves had planned. And you were not willing to get blood on your hands because of some “mistake”. If you pull the trigger, there will be one less person who’s able to make a change. One less person who’ll be willing to get their hands dirty and save people. 

So, you lower the muzzle of your rifle and nod to the side, urging him to start his getaway, before other Shadows and Graves decide to check the perimeter. You see his dark eyes blink, or at least you think you do before he disappears into the darkness. Like he was never there in the first place.

In the end, you didn’t get even a single scratch. Three other Shadows were K.I.A.

Your head buzzed with so many different questions you wanted to ask Graves, and more importantly, the guilt you felt from whatever happened in front of the threshold. You had no idea what happened with that Los Vaquero base or what was up with your CO, while you were escorting him and those 141 guys along with several other Shadows for this mission. Why was he taking it? What was he even thinking? You wanted to pull out your hair and claw out your eyes just thinking about all of it. Which, you weren’t paid to do, but that didn’t mean you weren’t concerned with the moral side of things. Unlike the majority of the Shadows, as you came to find out.

Confusion bubbled up inside of your mind, eyes burned by the white synthetic light of the gate when you looked up at it just to feel something aside from sheer distress and bewilderment. You didn’t want to believe that your Commander was the type of person to sell himself out, and you didn’t expect him to be, from all the time spent working with him. The man was nothing short of likable and friendly, with his beaming smile, confident attitude, and outgoing way of communicating… a natural-born leader, that was the first thing that came to mind when you thought about your boss. And with how Graves treated you and all other Shadows like you were more than just his employees, the realization was even more painful. Of course, you didn’t want to think about how he could so easily turn his back on people who trusted him.

It raised many questions in your mind about the price of his word, as well as made your stomach churn with acidic, flesh-eating poison full of doubt and suspicion. If it was so easy for your CO to cut out the men someone he told you all to think of as your brothers, then how long will it be before he sells you and other shadows out for…whatever was offered to him? 

“Find ‘em!” Graves barks and your chest swells with bitter disappointment. You thought you knew him before (as much as a subordinate can know their superior), but how can you even begin to understand him now?

You hear Shadows mutter a quiet “Yup-yup”, more to themselves than to your CO, and you could almost feel the doubt settle over them in a thick, transparent blanket. From the conversations you can pick up on while Graves is out of earshot, you guess that some of them don’t think betraying the 141 guys and trying to hunt the two of them down is the right thing to do. But it didn’t seem like they were going to do anything about it though. You, however, want to help. You know that it’s not right, so…screw it. You can always find another job, and if it comes down to it, 141 seem like an okay sort of people, the type that would have your back if you had theirs. At least, you have hope for it.

So maybe you could hold out until they come back for Los Vaqueros. And you were certain they’d do that, no way they’d abandon all these men. You haven’t seen how the things were on said base that was taken from them, but you were certain you could do more on the inside than if you were to leave right now. Maybe you could break Colonel out of there, or help the Task Force sneak in, you were sure they could use any help from you. 

That was the plan before you saw what Shadow Company did to Las Almas.

The picture that Shadows were painting with innocent blood on the rainy landscape was horrifying, to say the least. The metallic smell hit your nose the moment you jumped out of the truck right onto the flooded pavement. That was the exact moment when you realized you couldn’t stay with Shadows any longer. You were supposed to help these people. It was your job. Instead, you felt filthier than the dirt on your boots. Traitor. Backstabber. You choked on your breath behind the mask each time you noticed the bodies of the victims in every dark corner of the city, nausea coming up your throat when you could see rivers of crimson streaming down the road and right into the sewers. Your Shadow Company patch felt like the mark of a killer, etched into your skin permanently, instead of just being part of your uniform.

Limp bodies that didn’t even have the time to grow cold yet, scattered around warm homes. Some of the killed were probably already in their beds sleeping, coming back from work, watching TV, or cooking dinner when they got dragged out under the rain and massacred…Everything felt like a blur, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of whys, while you were led further into the town, to continue the revolting, disgusting crimes of your brothers-in-arms. You couldn’t stand to spend another minute in here. You need to get out before you do something you’ll never be able to forgive yourself for. You were many things, but you were not willing to go that far. Not here, not anywhere. 

“Hey. Where’s Graves?” You tap another Shadow, your “close colleague” with a callsign Kruk, on the shoulder. He turns to you, while you see several other soldiers passing by, yellow streetlights barely illuminating their swiftly moving figures. You knew why it was hard for you to even look in their direction. Kruk points towards the building to the left of you two and croaks something about “briefing the rookies”. You nod and thank him, stumbling in the general direction he pointed you to. 

“Commander, with all due respect, I think it’s time for you to discharge me.” You only came to your senses when you stood in front of your CO in the cramped space of someone’s living room. Wallpaper, creamy in color, dulled lights, tons of decorative cushions on the couch… Your voice is quiet, but firm, not leaving any space for compromise when you speak up to the blond man, and your politeness is as fake as this copy of “Guernica” you could see hanging on the wall. Blood pulses in your ears. You want to leave, you want out. Out of here.

“Bug, now’s not the time for jokes, I need you on the field now. We’ve got our orders.” Graves barely raises his eyes from tapping something on the tablet, that usual scowl that you got used to present on his face. His actions are as ugly as he is. Him not taking you seriously sure does a number on your confidence. But that only reassures you in your decision. You need out. 

“Do I look like I’m joking? I’m leaving, because I don’t think what we’re doing is right.” You try to stay calm, you really do. But how can you, when out of something so vile he makes a joke? Makes all these people a sick joke.

A crease lies between your brows, and shadows falling over your eyes make your face look similar to a carved statue. Before talking to Graves, you decided to take off the eyewear that obscures your face and pull down the thin mask, the signatures for Shadows who are lower in the chain of command. You’re the faceless sort, after all.  “And I don’t think you know your place.” You’re instantly taken aback by his sudden outburst, but you don’t let it show. “I point and you shoot. I sign your paychecks, Bug, and you take them.” You feel something inside of you flinch at the way he mutters your callsign. “I’m in charge. You don’t have a say in what we do.” With each statement, his gloved finger points from him to you, making the rage and frustration boil inside of your chest. You trusted Graves and he led all of your colleagues, along with you to dragging out unarmed, innocent people in the dead of night out of their houses on their streets and executing them. Hell of a leader he is. 

“Well, I’m stepping down. If that’s what we do, I don’t want to take part in it.” You wanted to tell him a lot more, give Graves a piece of your mind on war crimes and killing people in their own homes. On how drowning Las Almas in blood won’t fix whatever the fuck he was trying to fix right now. Instead, you kept it to yourself, tightening your fists just so you didn’t spit in his face or punch him.

“You’re putting a target on your back. Do you not understand how what you’re saying makes you look?” Graves leans in closer to you, the low volume of his voice making it even more threatening, similar to the hissing of a snake. Give him a minute and he will start spewing real venom right in your face. 

“You know that whatever you’re thinking is not true.” To be completely honest, you didn’t care what he thought right now. Graves’ mind and morals were clearly in the wrong place if he considered all this bloodshed justified. 

“Do I really? A moment ago I was sure that you were my subordinate, now I’m not even sure what to make of you.” You’re barely able to resist rolling your eyes at this. Your heart is picking up the pace with each minute. Getting more and more desperate to leave your body altogether, just so you don’t have to listen to his bullshit any longer. You wish it was that easy.

“I’m not taking orders from you. Not anymore.” Saying this took a lot more out of you than you expected, you felt your chest tremble when you met your CO’s eyes.

“Well, would you just look at that, you happen to be a fan of our local drug lord too?” If eyes could kill, Graves would’ve dropped dead right this moment. He smiles, his sharp canines peeking from under his top lip. He knows he’s making your skin crawl and your stomach flip from this interaction, which, if you’re lucky, would be the last for the two of you. “Helping the cartel and corrupt police won’t look too good on your resume”

“I see you’re just making it up as you go.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in your chest. Shaky. Uneven. Infuriated. Your eyes are drilling Graves’, a deep frown between them as proof of how much you despise him now, for the baseless assumption too. After a moment of silence, you add. “You know what my stance on this is. Whether I get your approval or not, I’m leaving.” Graves finally withdraws from your personal space, sliding the palm over his face with a heavy sigh, as his lips tighten into a thin line. You knew that this combination meant he was trying to calm down. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. 

“Look, Bug, you’re a smart kid and frankly, I like you.” he makes a short pause, sighing. “So, I’ll give you a fighting chance. Five minutes – if you’re not out of the city, then you’re a target.” He wasn’t that fucking courteous with the civilians that lay dead a few meters away. Shot on sight. Without any questions. You grit your teeth.

What are you supposed to do with that? Those five minutes didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, most likely, you’ll be rotting in the ditch somewhere shortly after your time runs out - too little to get out of the city or find the Task Force you so desperately wanted to help. Graves won’t leave any witnesses. And you are one. He knows it’s not going to be easy for you to just turn on the Shadows like that too, even though you despised what they were doing while following his orders. They still were your family. Dysfunctional and disproportionately big, but family, nonetheless. Even if they deserved it for their lack of action to prevent what was happening now, you don’t turn on your family like that. What he’s doing is forcing your hand.

Regardless, you have no choice but to take Graves up on his last “generous” offer.

“What are you waiting for, hm? Get out of here while you can.” You didn’t need to be told that twice. So, still balancing your rifle on your arm, your free hand reaches for that patch on your shoulder. Tearing it off in a quick motion makes the sound of Velcro strips snapping open almost echo from how quiet it is. It felt like a whole mountain dropped off of your shoulders when you threw the patch on the ground and stormed out of the building right into the pouring rain.

You felt goosebumps and tremors creeping up your spine as you ran through the dark streets, getting more and more soaked with each second. You didn’t feel much better though. The resentment for Graves grew each second, with all the steps that sent ripples on the surface of the deep puddles, and every raindrop that fell from the copper-colored clouds. But now wasn’t the time to wallow in your misery. Although you wanted to. It did feel like the loss of a person you used to know, of someone you looked up to. The only thing is, he was still living and breathing, and the only thing that died was that idealized image of him in your head. 

There was a cold hollowness somewhere in your chest. Gaping with the darkness that, and you were sure of it, will eat you alive soon enough. Even though you backed out of the Shadow company, it won’t bring back all the people who are not here anymore. You won’t fix it, no matter how hard you try. That bitter guilt snaked its way into the back of your mind and it was there to help stay. 

You managed to pull yourself out of this to make things right. But why do you feel so helpless still?

Your footsteps get faster and faster, as you maneuver through the narrow alleyways, staying out of the range your former colleagues were in. It was easy to hear them, gunshots and voices echoed throughout the city in a weird cacophony that your ears got used to after a long time working for the Shadow Company. They were not afraid, probably feeling like masters here. Somebody has to give them a scare, you thought. So they know better in the future. But it wasn’t your job at the moment. Right now, you needed to get out and do it as soon as possible.

Stopping and coming up with any sort of plan that would help you was not an option - hang in somewhere for too long and you’ll be found. And you were sure you wouldn’t be shown any mercy. 

So instead of staying on the street, where you can be easily spotted with the help of the dim light of a flashlight, you decide to alternate between the corridors of empty homes, with doors wide open for anyone seeking shelter, and the maze of alleyways crawling with Shadows. It felt wrong, invading someone’s homes like this, but you knew if they were unlocked and lights beamed around them, giving out a warm glow the inhabitants were most likely not coming back.

You felt that tingle on the nape of your neck, ready to hide or flee in case you heard any sudden movement from any direction. It’s dead quiet, except for occasional radio talk from the shadows, which you tried to listen in on when you could. It didn’t give you much on where 141 could be. You would start losing hope if you had any left after Graves. But you continue your search nonetheless, reflexes instead of thinking, pure determination instead of hope, and fire in your veins, instead of blood.

That is until you quietly step inside another warm hallway, and you’re met with a wide-eyed stare from another Shadow that makes you freeze like a deer in the headlights. Something inside of you starts to churn with terror from the looming understanding – only one of you will walk out of here alive. Your eyes trail down to the raven patch on his tac vest. It’s Kruk. You want to ask what he is doing here, but you already feel his gaze studying you too. And as soon as he sees that the Shadow Company patch is missing from your uniform, the muzzle of his rifle points right at you. Fucking shit.

“Drop your gun, Kruk!” You warn the man, pointing the weapon in his direction too. He only shakes his head, refusing to stand down. With each second air is laced with tension more and more, you were sure that soon enough it’ll be so thick even a knife wouldn’t cut through it.

“You drop yours first.” His voice is shaky and unsure like he can’t believe what he’s doing right now either. “Commander gave us an order. You’re an enemy now too, Bug. Better get used to it.” Kruk started slowly approaching you, while pulling something out of the bag, strapped on his hip.

“Oh, fuck that!” You swing towards Kruk, trying to approach him in your momentary rage, but you’re immediately met with the warning “Don’t” from Kruk, who doesn’t stand down. “You know what they’re doing here. It doesn’t matter to you?” The man is silent. You don’t see his face behind his mask, so you’re left with even more questions instead of answers. Regardless of what he was thinking right now, you didn’t want to hurt him. So, you bend down and put your rifle on the ground with a quiet clack. If he needs a gesture of goodwill, he can have it. “Your turn.” Kruk only shakes his head.

“Turn around.” So, it was a mistake to trust him. Naturally. Your gullibility will be your downfall. You can almost feel the bitter taste spread inside of your mouth when you look at Kruk. Fucking asshole. But you comply, although reluctantly. He grabs you roughly by the wrists with one hand and by the neck with another, leading you toward what looks like a kitchen in the dim lights falling through the doorway. You get lowered on your knees and then pressed into the dirty floor. And it hits right then and there. He’s going to execute you. Oh, shit, shit, shit.

“You know that I don’t want to do this.” He says quietly so that any shadows passing by don’t hear him. You feel your heartbeat shake your whole body and nausea so intense like you are on the verge of throwing up all of your internal organs, but giving up is just not an option right now. So, you try to prevent him from tying your hands together with all the strength you have.

“Then don’t fucking do it!” He does not answer this as you continue squirming in his hold, trying to make it as hard as possible for him to restrain you. He only grunts but keeps a firm grip. Your head was a mess, you thought Shadows were a family. But all it took was one order from Graves, now they’re scouring the town like damn bloodhounds for you too.

“Get…off of me!” You grit through your teeth. You feel a zip tie slide over your hands and turn your head. The rifle he previously held in his hands was gone, probably so he could tie you up properly, so you take your chance and deliver a hard kick to Kruk’s stomach. He chokes out a pained gasp and finally lets go of your hands. You scurry to get up from the floor with wide smears of rainwater and dirt decorating it, but you get grabbed by the leg, which causes you to stumble and fall once again. You turn your head and kick Kruk with all your might, while attempting to take off the zip tie off your wrists, which, thankfully, he didn’t have the time to close.

You manage to shake the man off of you, as you scramble to your feet, knocking over a corner table with some decorations on it. Yet when you see Kruk fumbling with his hip holster you immediately tackle him to the ground, which causes him to drop the handgun. The whole fight is just a mess, nothing but blinding rage is pulsing in your temples, melting your bones and muscles into something no better than an animal. You get up again, while Kruk is on the floor, searching for the handgun in the darkness. You feel the heavy metal press against your boot and you kick it behind you. You hear it slide across the floor and here it is. Kruk’s eyes, are directed right at you. His hands claw at your leg, trying to drag you down to the floor. And then you black out completely. Kicking, punching, pained wheezes and screams are all you hear, a stuffy abyss with little to no specks of light surrounding you.

You come back to your senses when you don’t feel the familiar weight of your handgun pressing against your hip and then you see it again. Kruk managed to grab it while you were in your anger-induced frenzy. Everything around you slows down. His shaky fingers pull on the safety, but you reach out and grab his hands, pulling them up, not letting him aim at you. Kruk grunts and you see his eyes focused on you in fear, and desperation, as he tries to overpower you in the struggle. You see his weakened state, but the self-preservation is stronger than any compassion towards him at the moment. Kruk will take your life if you don’t take his. That’s just the gist of it. You can’t let him walk away.

Your hands tremble when he manages to overpower you momentarily, but it’s all in vain when you press the handgun harder and harder into his frame, feeling his hands start to yield more and more with each second, strength leaving him. The fear in his eyes is directed at you and only you, but you try not to look. The muzzle of your gun is pressed snugly under his chin. Your gaze trails to his eyes once again. They burn you with terror. Your fingers hook around the trigger guard. You hear a faint whisper.

“Please…”

Gunshot rings in your ears for another second, despite the earmuffs in your helmet.

“Fuck! Fuck…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry.” It all came crashing down on you in one moment. You wouldn’t feel guilty if it was the enemy, you wouldn’t care. He was an enemy now, so why do you feel so guilty, why is it starting to corrode and eat you alive even more? Your palms cover the profusely bleeding gunshot wound, going through his neck and cranium, hot blood pouring out with impossible speed, staining your hands, gear, and skin. Staining your whole being. How could you do something like this? Shadows are family. Killing an unarmed man who’s pleading for his life?

You’re no better than Graves.

The gunshot alerts the Shadows and they start scurrying around on the street. You have no time to mourn Kruk or search for your rifle in the dark, so you yank your handgun out of his hands which only started succumbing to rigor mortis, and sprint out the backdoor, desperately attempting to get away. You can feel your heartbeat booming in your ears, wet hair sticking to the nape of your neck, as you hear distant commotion and a chase stirring behind you, as you dart inside another building and run through the hallways, searching for a way out.

Back on the street, rain droplets are so cold that it feels like they’re splitting your skin open, you can barely feel the pain in your ankle from adrenaline pumping through your blood flow. You start slipping on the slick pavement, but you still refuse to stop, diving inside another doorway. Your head hurts, your lungs feel like they are about to explode, and you think you stepped into a puddle of someone’s blood. No time to ram through the locked door, so you jumped out of the second-story window and landed on your foot, twisting it in the process and swallowing the sob that welled up in your throat. You needed to move.

That bought you some time to get up and dip into the dark alleyway before you heard the loud footsteps approaching the window that you used to escape. You let out a heavy exhale, propping your back against the cold stone. You’re not completely safe, but…that’s better than nothing. The commotion of shadows quiets down and you hear it become more and more distant with each second. 

After a moment of silence, you continue moving, albeit slowly, trying to get used to the hot pulsing in your leg, that shot up right through your nerves with each step you tried to take. You wince and whine in pain, dragging your leg behind, grabbing at the moist stone walls, clinging to them for any sort of support. However, it’s not much of a help. 

Your escape is cut short when your legs finally give out, causing you to stumble and fall while crossing the church garden. Although it probably looked magical in the daylight, right now it was far from it, the smell of metal and smoke still lacing the darkness. You already feel your ankle swelling and some bruises forming under all your gear. You see the lights on the exterior of the church blend into the ribbon of lights and shadows and the thought crosses your mind. You can hide there.

You almost fly up the stairs despite the hurting leg, fumbling with the door for a second, before it creaks open. You shuffle inside with light steps and close the door behind you as quietly as you can. Your knees tremble as you slide down the cold wall and crawl further inside the building, barely feeling any strength left in you. God, you are so drained. Strained gasps are ripped out of your throat every second. You want nothing more than to lie down right there in this church and just let the darkness overtake you in a peaceful slumber. That would be so easy.

Your calm moment is interrupted by someone yanking you up on your feet, to which you let out a surprised yelp. You can’t see the person, but you can feel their hands tugging on your gear roughly and dragging you somewhere. It takes you a second to weigh your pretty limited options given the fact it’s so dark that you are barely able to make out your surroundings. So, you decide to take this fight head on and your heavy boot comes down right on their foot, which prompts the person to grunt, revealing a pretty low male voice, and let go of you.

You tear out from his grasp and almost tumble down to the church floor, bunching up dust with your loud, uneven footsteps. Your back is hunched as you look up at the dark figure from under your eyebrows, ready to deflect any blows if he decides to attack first. You stay silent, feeling like a cornered animal in his presence, small, feeble. Weak. Of course, you were at a disadvantage here, taking a beating, running from Shadows, twisting your ankle, and losing your rifle certainly didn’t help your chances to win, but you were ready to claw your way out of here with your bare hands, breaking your nails and skinning your hands if you had to.

But any punches or kicks you try to land the man easily deflects or blocks, not trying to attack or overpower you however, opting to just take up the defensive position in the fight. Which is, admittedly, a lot easier than taking the offensive one. Maybe he was aiming to exhaust you and then, when you are at your lowest point, he would attack. That seemed like a solid tactic, but you don’t want to let that happen. However, before you can think of anything you end up rolling with the man on the floor. You can hear him huff in frustration and exertion, the wood pressing harshly against your ribs and all the bruises on your lower body pulsing with pain.

After some struggle, however, you managed to tackle the man to the ground, pressing him down to the floor with your weight. Your hands snaked their way onto his neck as you glared at him, resisting the urge to bare your teeth akin to a stray, abused, and betrayed dog, crawling with fleas and parasites. Choking him out obviously wasn’t a nice thing to do, but you were trying to send a message here, that if you continue being followed, you will use your strength. If violence was the only language Shadows understood (and that’s who you believe the man was) then you were ready to become fluent.

“I swear, I’ll fucking kill you!” You press him into the floor harder, hands squeezing the man’s throat, your vision going blurry. You feel his hands grasp at your wrists, but he does not resist. Why is he not trying to shake you off? Why is he letting you choke him like this? Why is he not fighting back? 

“Let go, Bug.” The man’s voice is strained, but familiar, he whispers through his closed jaw. You can hear the way his throat tenses up, or his Adam’s apple bobs under your thick gloves, the warmth of his skin, and the moisture that seeped into the mask. Mask. More light falls through the window thanks to the momentary flicker of the streetlight. Skull. Eight lines on his chin, two on the forehead. Dark brown eyes.

Your hands shoot up like his neck is on fire. Guilt settles in your gut and your throat, pulling you in like you’re some puppet with no free will. You try to get up from the man’s midsection but tumble down on your side from trying to do it too quickly. It’s Ghost. How the hell did you not recognize Ghost?

“I’m sorry. I’m not…myself right now.” You were now sitting on the floor, palms resting on your face, wet from the rain, skin burning up, either trying to regulate the temperature or from all the exertion. Either way, it didn’t matter right now.

“Yeah, you made it pretty obvious.” Ghost coughs, trying to shake off your attempt to cut off his air circulation just seconds ago, as he gets up from his lying position. “At least now I know you’ve got a good grip.” He lets out a deep chuckle which only earns him an eyebrow raise from you. He was joking at a time like this? Must’ve hit his head pretty hard too.

“I could’ve choked you. Why did you not fight back more?” You were royally confused about that. He could’ve stopped the fight before it even began and avoided some bruises along with the sore neck if he just told you who he was or fought back. But he didn’t.

Ghost wants to say something, but stops himself right after opening his mouth. You see it in the way he looks at you. The pause stretches for an endless amount of time and you feel your skin crawling with anxiety while his eyes study your face.

“I was going easy on ya.” Ghost says in a rather blunt manner, which didn’t answer that many of your questions. Well, if he was going easy, he should’ve been at least going at you, which wasn’t true – you saw him only defending himself and blocking some of your blows. Did he?.. Was he trying not to hurt you? Okay, the more you thought about it, the wilder it sounded. Maybe you should just drop it. “I don’t suppose you came here to wash your sins away.” You want to scoff from the bad taste. “Lil’ birdie told me you ditched the Shadows. Any particular reason why?” The man inquires, turning to you. Sitting like this on the floor with him felt unusual, like some sort of weird church sleepover. Give Ghost a minute and he’ll bring you some ice cream so you two can watch some wacky TV shows together.

“Did your little birdie also tell you that Graves is hunting me down too?” You ask while pulling your drenched mask over your face. It brought some comfort and familiarity that were gone the moment you spoke to your CO in that living room. And, well, it would be awkward if Ghost was the only one in the mask.

“I guessed by the gunshots, some racket, and a horde of Shadows taking a night run through the neighborhood close by.” The man chuckles and you feel your face burn up in embarrassment under your mask. You try not to let it show, however. You knew that it wasn’t a very sleek move that you pulled with Kruk, but you were desperate and you didn’t need motherfucking Ghost telling you it was stupid. 

“You’re just hilarious. Is that how you became a lieutenant, by cracking jokes left and right?” You roll your eyes and hope he won’t notice it in the darkness. This banter was pointless, you knew it but…you needed it. It was not easy losing something familiar, so you desperately wanted to feel that camaraderie you experienced in the Shadows.

“You’ll find out once you’re a lieutenant yourself.” And Ghost indulges you. Which, you are thankful for. Isn’t such a scary guy after all, huh?

“Yeah, if I’m alive long enough.” You scoff at his concealed attempt to comfort and reassure you, but you can’t help that warm feeling in your chest. Weird.

“Well, you’ve already surpassed my expectations by staying alive until now.” The man stands up from the floor with a low grunt, pressing an arm around his midsection, right around where you might’ve pinned him to the floor with your body. “Let’s make sure it lasts, eh?” He extends a gloved hand toward you in an open, inviting gesture. Your eyes trail over his huge figure and land on specks of light in his eyes.

His eye black is all smudged and messy.

You have to shake off the sudden thought, observation too close and intimate for your liking, as you grab him by the forearm, trying to ignore the way your skin burns up when you feel his warmth through his gear. Ghost pulls you up to your feet, but doesn’t let go of your arm once you’re up. You don’t let go either. The silence rings in your ears. God, he’s so warm.

 “Are you like a human furnace or something?” You joke to fill the excruciating silence. Which you immediately regret. You wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see just how his face stretched the fabric of a skull mask, which you clearly heard happen by a small shuffle very close to you. Who knows, maybe he cracked a smile?

“Why? Need someone to warm you up at night?” Okay, this is terrible and stupid, and so damn corny, and why do you feel your cheeks grow hot and breath get stuck in your chest? Maybe that’s just how awful his jokes are. Ghost clears his throat and reluctantly lets go of your forearm, fingers still clinging to your sleeve as he pulls himself away too quickly for it to be something nonchalant or casual.

“So, are you answering my question, or do I have to use torture?” Fucking hell, his jokes are morbid. You almost forgot in those several hours you haven’t interacted with him. Although that would be quite hard, he leaves quite an impression, after all.

“Well, I suppose you’ve seen the…the civilians?” You can’t call them anything besides that. To call them corpses is to take away from their whole being. To call them dead would just be a lie. They were still alive in the walls of their homes, in the memories of their breathing relatives and friends, and in the pictures, their traces are everywhere. Ghost silently nods to your question, prompting you to continue. “Then here’s your reason.” You didn’t want to explain your feelings in great detail. And you didn’t feel the need to; you saw the compassion in his eyes. “Plus, the whole thing with the Los Vaqueros base.” If you saw Ghost’s face now you’d note how the expression darkened in a single moment. However, you do feel the temperature in the room fall several degrees lower, so you decide to joke again. “Pay wasn’t that good anyway, so…”

“Fair enough.” The man chuckles while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll keep an eye on you though. Don’t think you can just waltz in here like this and be completely trusted.” Well, that’s understandable. If you were him you wouldn’t trust yourself either. Although you did hope that the mercy you’ve shown him earlier would influence his decision making. At least a little bit. “And you better toss that thing. Or else.” He points to the radio, still strapped to your tactical vest. You unclasp the device, detaching the small microphone that was holding on by a thread, and hand it to Ghost.

“You’re welcome to get rid of it for me.” And he doesn’t waste any time, dropping the radio on the ground, stomping on it so hard that the sound of it breaking echoes through the church. You assess the scraps of wires and plastic on the floor with a pitiful gaze, coming to a conclusion that you wouldn’t want to end up under Ghost’s boot. Or maybe you would, but under different circumstances. “Well, that’s…effective.”

“You good with the sniper rifle?” The man ignores your previous remark, immediately firing back with the question.  

“Decent.” You were a lot better in close quarters and preferred a more hands-on approach. But a sniper rifle wasn’t that bad. As long as he doesn’t ask you to use it without a scope.

“You’re on the lookout with me then. Don’t screw it up.”

Oh, you’re absolutely not going to.

check out my masterlist or send me a request!

a/n – first of all, thank you for reading this fic, and if you enjoyed it, consider dropping me a comment, i’ll really appreciate it! SECOND OF ALL.  I’M NOT A GRAVES HATER, DON’T COME @ ME. segment with him also was written before the campaign release, so in case there are some inaccuracies with the plot/his character – let me know, so I can fix it. all of this is a huge rework of the series that I started but never posted. Originally, it was supposed to be Graves x Reader, but for multiple reasons, moral mostly, it didn’t quite sit right with me. So instead of letting 6k words first part that I’ve written and abandoned go to waste, I decided to remake it into something else here, based on the idea of @mockerycrow (ily you have such a big brain)! so yeah, that’s it for now!

[lilastromama]

what i love about different zodiac signs/placements 🍷 [2]

___________________________

aries lilith: their willpower. it might not always be for the positive, but theyre willing to do everything in order to get what they want, everything. Theyre ruthless. Im not saying thats GOOD, but its not always a bad trait either. go babes

saturn in the 8th house: how the universe doesnt play about them. this has less to do w their personality, and more to do with how inclined they are with spirit. fool them once, youre not gonna be able to fool them twice anyways. The universe always whips out the uno reverse card on you if u make the mistake to hurt them. Just something i have experienced a hell lot

capricorn sun: their balance (?) listen idk how to put this in words the right way, but so many caps ive met have this certain balance. being calm, kind, patient. And then theyre loud, chaotic, angry, funny, make the best jokes and are the most noticeable in the room. U never know what u get, and i like that

aquarius moon: aquas have never been an easy ride for me, gotta be honest. but the one thing i hold them high up for, is how they dont always "fit in" and yet are still chillin. I have always found strength in being (excuse my language) "outcast" like. Its good to have a mind of your own, and not always walk the way others take, or tell u to go. Please keep questioning things, keep doing you. (as long as it doesnt harm anyone) its a great thing to be unique, its a power move. Its actually something we could all have/do a little more of.

virgo sun: their confidence/support level. Ive noticed a lot of virgo suns to be hype-women/men/people. they support u the best they can, give compliments not even models have ever heard, and make u feel like ure on top of the world. and in women (as i am one, and have experienced this ESPECIALLY with virgo women) they give the best instagram comments. U know which ones im talking about. Those "Omg, i hear vogue calling youu already!!" 🎈comments. Theyre the best at it.

cancer mars: its funny bc cancer is in its fall when its in mars, its not specifically a sought out placement to have. But there is something about those individuals that remind me of female rage. LISTEN 👹 it takes a lot for cancer mars people to noticeably lose their shit, they almost never do it in front of others, they keep quiet mostly. But WHEN they show their pent up emotions, its time to call 911. go home and get the gun, NOW.

9th house individuals: Their minds. Yes, yes, yes. If u like deeptalks, like to spiral down the rabbit hole and back up, talk to these people. they make amazing teachers, leaders, people which are there to guide and learn you. They have incredibly fast minds, they analyze and calculate QUICKLY. those are the people which u go to when ur ex posted a new pic and u wanna know whos in it. Give them about 3 seconds and they will find out, including where their great grandfather lives. A pleasure <3

[tokidokitokyo]

恥を捨てて

Throw Away Your Shame

When learning a new language, it's important to make mistakes.

I don't know about you, but the last thing I want to do is mess up in front of a native speaker of the language I am studying...

But, when I teach others English (my native language), I don't mind if they make mistakes.

So why am I so hard on myself? Why do I demand perfection of myself but accept less than perfection from others?

The answer to that may reveal some character flaws that I'm not willing to share yet, so we'll skip that and move on to: How can you be more forgiving to yourself when learning a language?

The first step is to try throwing away your shame and embracing the fact that you will make mistakes when practicing a new language. If someone who was learning your language spoke to you in a sentence with glaring mistakes, would you berate them in your mind? Or would you put the mistakes aside, appreciate their effort, and encourage them? (If the first, I'm not sure why you're learning a language yourself haha).

When I ran Japanese/English discussion groups with American and Japanese students, I learnt the phrase 恥を捨てる (haji o suteru) which means "to throw away your shame" (haji also means embarrassment but I like the feel of the word shame instead). I picked this phrase up, and started to use it during language exchange, especially with those who were just starting out. People who hadn't been learning either Japanese or English were overwhelmed with trying to pronounce a language very different than their own language, with different sounds and letters/characters and different grammar structures, and some of them were very shy and hesitant to make mistakes.

So I would just say, haji o sutete ne ("just throw away your shame, ok?"). And this usually helped them to relax because it's kind of funny and can be a good conversation starter. I also began repeating it to myself when I was practicing Japanese, essentially "faking it 'til I made it" because I am still scared of making dumb mistakes (even after more than 10 years).

So, if you are worried about making mistakes, it's okay, we all make mistakes. Even native speakers make mistakes. Most people don't care if you make mistakes (and if they do, why do you want to hang out with them?).

So go ahead and throw away your shame!

[curiousquirks]

Caught Your Attention (18+)

Pairing: AFO x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Non-Con, Pegging, Fem-Dom, Reader referred to as Female and AFAB, Aphrodisiacs, Degradation, Mommy Kink, Overstimulation, Orgasm Denial, Blackmail, Light Collar Play Word Count: 4,755 A/N: Reader has a quirk (meta ability) that allows them to produce an aphrodisiac from their body. This is also set back in the day when AFO was far younger but was gaining power rapidly. Other than that, there wasn’t any specific plot because this is shameless smut. Requested by @jennoah

The spontaneous creation of Quirks also saw the creation of people willing to selfishly use them for their own gain. Exceeding amounts of power and influence carried All for One quickly through the ranks of rising villains. He was no stranger to people wanting to compete with him to try to topple him from his growing tower. Being younger and on the front lines of people scrambling to gather as much as possible left All for One having to learn as he went. Naturally he was bound to make some mistakes in his early days. He still fared better than most though. Some would say it was natural born talent that gave him an edge most people didn’t have.

All for One was a very charismatic man, he knew exactly how to talk to people. It allowed him to sway conversations and manipulate people precisely how he wanted. It wasn’t fool proof though. It didn’t work on you; and you were such a mystery. He had interacted with you a few times, but heard plenty in passing. You had a Meta Ability too, but he just didn’t know what it was. You weren’t interested in any of his tactics and you were certainly self-sufficient and powerful on your own. You never accepted anything he had to provide, you certainly had no desire for another Meta Ability. So, what could he possibly offer you?

Nothing. 

He was a cocky, arrogant and narcissist bastard who you wished to never have to interact with. You didn’t want him dead. That was too extreme, especially when he could still have his uses. He had a lot of influence and power, more than you have gained especially considering how young he was. It irked you. His web of connections was too strong to sever, leaving you with little options to even try to dismantle him. Leaving you with a crazy idea that honestly could humble him. Afterall, breaking someone this proud gives you more room to get better negotiations right? Especially when you leave room for easy blackmail. Proud men like him don’t want to look bad, let alone be humiliated by a woman.

Since he had such a complicated network building, it only seemed fitting to try to catch him like a fly in that little web. He wasn’t the only one with contacts and he can’t have his guard up all of the time. You didn’t even have to worry about him trying to break free or potentially killing you. Once you had him in your hands, the last thing he’d want to do is leave. Outside of the effects of your meta ability, men were always really easy to control with sex. It would take time, but thankfully you were patient. Setting yourself up and carefully positioning yourself, waiting for the right timing. Which landed you in your current perfect position.

You pressed your back against the wall, taking a glance around the corner. Your vantage point in his place gave you a view towards his open bathroom door. Either he’s really good at pretending to not notice you or you were successfully evading his detection for the moment. Who knows what he has up his sleeves right now; it was always hard to figure that out. Subtly and mystery saved him, not letting anyone know what he had to utilize at any given moment. Worked the same for his meta abilities as it did for his emotions. He was busying himself with personal grooming it seemed, his hand delicately holding a shaving razor. His frame leaning closer to the bathroom mirror to keep attention to detail. 

He briefly paused, putting you on edge as you expected his eyes to lock onto yours in the mirror from your hidden position. He didn’t though. You weren’t too far away, just far enough to be safe but it was still in range of your Meta Ability. You lifted your sleeve allowing a faint mist to float off your skin letting it drift into the room towards him as you kept eye contact on him. You had been doing this subtly for a few minutes now. Your ability worked better with direct contact, you had figured that out through trial and error. Soon enough you’d be able too. He placed the shaving razor down as he moved to rinse his face. You watched expectantly as you waited for your ability to affect him. He turned off the facet and reached for a towel to pat his face dry. He seemed to pause again, making a subtle adjustment in his posture. 

He seemed to brush it off as he made his way out of the bathroom, turning the light off and closing the door. He made his way towards his kitchen. You could barely see him but thankfully you still could keep some watch over him. You mentally cursed, normally it shouldn’t take this long. Shouldn’t be surprising that this insufferable man had a high tolerance for this type of thing. It would allow him to not be easily distracted. Just another thing that had you gritting your teeth in annoyance. Your eyes slightly widen in surprised amusement when you see your work starting to pay off; there’s a flush spreading across his skin and growing bulge in his pants. He adjusted his posture again, shifting on his feet as his eyes narrow. 

His fingers reach for a cup drying on the rack, which he holds for only a second before slamming it down on the counter. Your body slightly jolted from the sudden movement but you held steady. You blinked rapidly as you watched him intently, making quick work to continue into the next phase of the plan. 

He made a quick but annoyed click of his tongue as rolled his neck, seeming to try to shake off some unexpected tension. He paused again before making a quick move to turn in your direction just in time to feel a sharp sting in the back of his neck. His body started feeling as clouded and fogged as his mind, a clear sign that the potent sedative was working. His heavy lidded eyes locked onto yours, only briefly, before he collapsed onto the floor. You stood triumphantly above him, observing your prey as your grin was full of mystery and maliciousness.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

The first thing he noticed through his blurry vision was your form standing over him. He then felt hot fingers pressing ever so lightly into his skin. He tried to sober up, but his brain couldn’t catch up fast enough. He let out a sharp hiss when the slightest pressure touched his clothed aching cock. He tried moving his arms, barely registering that they were tied behind his back. His eyes snapped to the movement in front of his face, taking multiple seconds to register the fingers snapping clearly aiming to get his attention. His eyes blinked as slowly as his mind was moving.

“Good morning, princess.” Your voice echoed in his mind, followed immediately by your intoxicatingly cruel laughter. “Glad to finally have your full attention,” Your hand gently palmed his cock, his hips immediately bucking up against you as a shiver ran down his body. “Especially since certain parts of you woke up already.”

“What do you–” He began before taking a sharp intake of breath as your fingers glided over his bare skin again. “What do you think you’re doing?” His tone was full of venom, and it wasn’t hard to see the hatred in his eyes. 

“I’m taking my time in getting some justified blackmail as I watch you fold and crumble beneath me.” You heard his scoff before he gritted his teeth. “You, on the other hand, are going to lay here on the floor and obey my every command like a good boy.”

His breathing got more ragged, it was hard to fight off the pure lust consuming him he had to admit. Before he had even had the chance to make a snide comment back you had run your bare hands along his skin. That faint mist from before radiated off of your skin infecting his mind, body, and soul. Every touch of your fingers against him radiated electric sparks that made him want to ravage every fiber of your body. He felt hot, the fabric of his pants feeling too tight as the layer of sweat coating his body forced them to stick to his legs. He felt weak. 

“How are you feeling now, huh tough guy?” You teased, your fingers grabbing his chin as you forced his frantic and distracted attention back onto you. Your voice alone caused his throbbing cock to twitch with every syllable. “I bet you wish you could just sate your desires, to just sink your cock deep inside me.” You mocked, your other hand making quick work of undoing his pants. 

If you kept talking, that might have just forced him to finish on the spot. His eyes fluttered the second the cold air hit his cock once it sprung free. His breathing hitched as your fingers ghosted against it, every shred of what little willpower he had left was preventing his hips from bucking up. He cursed the very molecules of your existence but he lacked the ability to voice anything out loud. It was a strong Meta Ability indeed. He tried focusing on what little sanity he had left to try to figure a way out of this. 

“I’m just trying to focus on figuring out which end goal you’re trying to achieve here.” He spat out, struggling heavily as he tried wiggling his body slightly to assess and figure out the type of restraints you used. “Do you intend to kill me after you’re done toying with me? Extort me some more for power?”

“If I was going to kill you, I would have done so when I had the chance. I got your guard down, I had every opportunity to do it at that very moment. You are on the right track though. I want your resources. I want you to owe me.” You explained as you straddled him. You could feel his heart rate increase dramatically as you grinded down against him. It took everything in him not to react, to give you the satisfaction. His cheeks were flushed as a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. “Actually, no. I want to own a powerful man such as yourself. Men would kill to be in your position right now, you know. You’re a lucky man.”

He scoffed again, his eyes narrowing dangerously at you. “I’d much rather be in control than be–” He began before you interrupted him.

“Humiliated?” You asked, a grin playing at your lips. “Every powerful man like yourself secretly loves this shit though, don’t you. You just want a woman taking control to give you what you need, not what you think you want.”

“I’m afraid you’ve got that wrong, my dear.” He retorted, fighting back a shudder as your hands ran up and down his bare chest. “You just look like a desperate whore. Having to do these depraved embarrassing acts just to get your hands on a man, because no one wants to touch you.”

“Oh?” You could admire how much willpower this man is managing to hold onto. There was so much venom in his voice, he was using all of his power and using it to fuel his anger towards you.  If you respected him, this would be impressive. You scooted yourself down his body, resting on top of his lower legs as your fingers curled around his cock. “We’ll see how you really feel soon enough.”

Your thumb swiped over the tip of his cock, feeling the twitch immediately against your hand as you gave it a few strokes. You locked eyes with him for only a moment before you had dipped your head down, running your tongue against the throbbing vein along the bottom of his cock. You then circled the tip before wrapping your lips around it. You heard him gasp out a sharp breath. Your moment of triumph was soon upon you, surely he wouldn’t last long at all. His hips bucked up, forcing his cock deeper down your throat. The warm wet feeling engulfing his every thought. 

“G-Get off me–gah…” He choked out, followed immediately by a curse under his breath. 

His words fell on deaf ears, your attention focused on creating suction around his sensitive tip. Your hand grabbed his shaft and created a steady rhythm. You could feel the muscles in his legs tense up, as his breathing got more ragged. You suddenly and without warning pulled yourself off of him. He let out a gasp of air as his muscles clenched tightly, his release so harshly delayed leaving him aching.

“You bitch…” He whispered, gritted through his teeth, but you heard him. “Enough with your games.”

Your fingers wrapped around his cock again, using your own spit as a lubricant as you started pumping it at a fast pace. You watched with sick glee as his eyes snapped shut, his muscles tensing up at the exhilarating pleasure coursing through him. At a much faster rate than before you had pulled your hand away suddenly, causing a choked noise to escape his lips. Your fingers ghosted over his twitching cock, his hips instinctively bucking up towards your hand. A growl reverberated somewhere deep within him as his eyes shot open to glare at you. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, now that’s not very nice of you.” You mocked, softly wrapping your hands around his cock again. You set a painfully slow pace as you positioned yourself against his legs to prevent him from moving them too much. “I didn’t say you could come yet.”

“I…don’t need–stop” He scrambled everywhere in his brain to get something cohesive out, but his brain was foggy with thoughts of your body, your mouth, your voice. Every possible scenario comes up with that involved drilling his cock deep inside of you; warm, wet, dripping and consuming. 

“You really want me to stop, you seem close? Hm, you sure you don’t wanna come?” You teased, focusing extra pressure near his tip since he is extra sensitive. Even though you’re only doing soft slow strokes, every touch feels magnified. His body is on fire. He whispers a simple please beneath his breath and your hand immediately retracts from his cock. 

“Fuck...” He grits out behind his teeth, his chest rising and falling at an accelerated rate. His aching cock twitches again, more pre-cum leaking from the tip. He deflated against the floor again.

More mist floats off of your skin and into the air and he swears he can see stars. He honestly thinks that if you even ghost your fingers against his cock again, that’ll be it. Every fiber of his being can only think about you; in every carnal way, in every primal way. His glassy eyes locked onto yours, completely fucked out of his mind. The future most feared man in the entire country, looked like a desperate puppy beneath you. Like a desperate whore. 

“Are you gonna behave now?” You asked, testing to see just how far gone he was. He nodded quickly and eagerly, his light hair sticking against his sweaty forehead. “You're gonna be a good boy for mommy?”

You could see the gear shift, something in him changed. The name, the title; something unlocked. He groaned as looked ready to come on the spot. A grin quickly spread across your face. You knew it. Perfect.

You got off of him and stood up. You snapped your fingers and made a gesture that asked him to sit up. He quickly obeyed, with some struggle, and perched himself onto his knees. You cooed at him and cupped your fingers under his chin, tilting his head up. 

“Such a good boy.” You praised, taking in his breathless flushed face. “You want mommy to make you come?”

He nodded and you wasted no time in laughing at his misery. His face burned with humiliation and growing defeat. The ache deep within himself was too strong, he couldn’t focus on anything else. You walked over to the bag that you had brought with you and reached in to grab something, his eyes watching you intently the entire time. You pulled out what looked to be a collar. You walked back over to him and attached it around his neck. You grabbed and attached the leash into place too, giving it a good tug. He held his place well, almost like he had expected it. Your Meta Ability can’t cause people to suddenly be into shit that they’re not. So to say you’re surprised is an understatement. You expected some fucked up shit, but it was more of a joke thought. 

“Don’t you look like such a pretty boy.” You praised, knowing it was so degrading for him to be referred to in such a way. You wrapped the end of the leash around your hand a few times before leaning down towards his face. “Are you going to behave for me? I’ll give you exactly what you want if you do.” 

He held an intense stare, multiple strong emotions swirling in those piercing red eyes. His face held a stoic expression but the deep flush spread across his face gave him away. A layer of sweat was coating his body, his hair matting against his forehead. He was struggling to keep a steady breathing pattern too. A sick grin spread across your face, relishing in how you didn’t even have to do anything to get him in such a state. He had some strong willpower but he still wasn’t as compliant as you would’ve hoped.

“I didn’t hear an answer.” You said, irritation apparent in your tone. “You’re not getting shit from me if you don’t give me an answer.”

He just held that same intense stare, clearly trying desperately to hold onto his resolve. Well, it’ll definitely feel more fulfilling to break him completely. You were hoping it wouldn’t come to this but anything for your mission at hand. You used your other hand to roughly grab his chin as you yanked the leash towards you, forcing his face closer to yours. You didn’t give him much time to process, barely allowing the shock of the situation to surface before you crashed your lips onto his. You could immediately feel his discomfort and disgust as you forced your tongue into his mouth. The second your tongue brushed against his, that’s when you felt the shift in his demeanor. Your meta ability affects your body fluids too.

He melted into your kiss, a stifled groan catching in his throat as you melded together. You didn’t stay long, just long enough, pulling away as a thin line of saliva broke between both of you. His eyes were softer now, his breathing more noticeable and his panting louder. His face attempted to follow after you, chasing you like a puppy. A smile pulled at the corner of your mouth as you loosened the leash wrapped around your hand. That should work perfectly now. Only one way to really test that theory though.

“Are you going to be good for mommy now?” You mocked, eagerly awaiting his reaction.’

“Yes.” He said breathlessly and immediately. 

You held your surprise well. There was just something in the way he said it. You had figured that he would completely cave at this point but something about this man submitting to your will was different from the others. You moved backwards, tugging the leash to signal him to follow you. His lust filled body moved to stand and follow after you towards the bed like a love sick animal, his legs shaky and wobbly to stand on. In a clearer mind he would finally register what room he was in. He couldn’t care less at the moment about the details, only doing whatever he had to in order to appease you for his own selfish needs. 

“That’s a good boy,” You praised, reaching your hand out to pat your hand on the bed. “Now get up here and lay down on your stomach for me.”

He seemed hesitant, moving slowly but still following your commands. He struggled slightly, with the restraints holding his arms in place behind his back but he managed to do exactly as you asked. He groaned as his throbbing cock pressed against the comforter, the friction driving him insane. You cooed from somewhere behind him, having moved away. He tried turning his head to see where you went or what you were doing, but the angle wasn’t providing him with much. 

“No peeking, wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.” You teased from somewhere behind him. 

He waited for what felt like ages, resisting the urge to press himself against the bed to gain some relief. He didn’t have to wait long though, his brain too muddled to focus on much aside from his raging desires which kept him thoroughly distracted. He felt the weight difference on the bed as you pressed your knee into the mattress. You placed your hands on his hips as you used your knees to push his legs apart. He didn’t resist at all, letting you move his legs. In one forceful motion you dug your fingers into his skin as you lifted his hips into the air. One of your hands left his hips as you snuck it between his legs, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He shuddered, his hips jerked at the sudden contact. He bit back a moan, as your hand skillfully set an agonizing rhythm. 

He hadn’t noticed your other hand left his body until he let out a surprised choked gasp as your finger placed cold lubricant against his entrance. His eyes shot back towards you, surprise clearly evident across his face despite the fact that you can’t see most of his face. You circle your finger around the rim before slowly inserting your finger inside of him. Your other hand never stopped your pace, despite how much he started squirming against you. You pumped your finger in and out of him for a minute before inserting another to help stretch him.

“Look at how you’re sucking me in, you must love this.” You teased, feeling his legs tense up. “You’re into more kinky shit than I thought. You poor thing, never getting to express yourself in such a depraved way because of that pride of yours.”

You heard him curse on his breath, feeling that building heat that was robbed from him multiple times already. He fully expected you to do it again. Your fingers curled inside of him and he pressed his face into the mattress. You could feel the shakiness of his legs as you worked him into a beautiful release, hot spurts of cum shooting against the comforter. His groans were muffled into the fabric but quickly became choked as you continued stroking him and pumping your fingers inside of him.

“F–Fuck…Stop–” He tried to cry out, almost biting down on his tongue. His body shook underneath you, his cock painfully twitching against your hand as his body tried desperately to get away from you.

“Aw, look at you baby. I thought you wanted to come?” You mocked, finally giving him some peace by removing both of your hands from him suddenly. You watch his body collapse against the bed, gasping for air. “You look so pretty.”

His brain struggled to regain any control once he was able to breathe again. He didn’t have much time before your bare hands were running along his ass, groping at his body, your meta ability still actively at work and continuously affecting him. His groaned, electric shocks jolt through his body as you move his ass into the air again. He didn’t have the time to process the foreign object pressing against his ass before he heard the shutter noise from your phone’s camera. He turned his head towards you to look at what you were doing before your hand was on his face pushing it back into the mattress. 

“Ah ah ah, what did I say before?” You chastised, gripping the strap-on in your hand and rubbing it against his asshole. The slick cold feeling of the silicon against him had his body jerking forward. His eyes widened as they glared back at you. Despite the anger trying to show through his eyes, the lust was far stronger. “You are going to lay here and take mommy’s cock like a good boy.” A grin spread across your face as you felt his leg twitch as a jolt of pleasure went straight to his cock. “And you’re going to love every second of it.”

“I…I already finished.” He tried to retort. 

“You don’t get to decide when I’m finished.” You told him, lining the strap-on with his entrance as you slowly started pushing it into his twitching hole. “Now, you’re gonna sit here and fucking take it like a good boy.” 

You felt his entire body tense up as you pushed it all the way to the base. You dig your nails into his hips as you savor his muffled groans and whines. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would, you must be a real whore.” You mocked, slowly pulling out the strap-on before slamming it back into him. “Fuck I can’t even feel it and I know your hole is tight and just sucking it in. You love getting fucked like this, huh?” 

The pain was burning, but your meta ability was forcing his brain to only focus on the lustful enjoyment. Morbidly twisting the painful stretching into blinding pleasure. He bites back any noises that threaten to spill from his lips, his heavy breathing escaping through his parted lips. His face shoved to the side, desperately trying to keep a little grasp on his sanity. One of your hands reaches down to grasp his weeping and throbbing cock, the jolt of his hips causing one of the hidden noises to finally escape his lips.

“There you go, let mommy hear you.” You attempt to coax him, setting a rhythm as you stroke his cock and slam your hips into his. “You're taking me so well.”

He finally started letting those noises slide past his lips, the vulgar and dirty noises filling the room were too late to actually cause him more humiliation. He was too far gone, lost completely in the pure pleasure coursing through his entire body. “Please–...” He choked out, his muscles tensing up as he felt that burning feeling building for his release. “Mommy, please–”

“Come for me, baby.” You cooed, making one last slam into his ass as you gave quick strokes to his throbbing cock. More hot cum spurts out against the comforter again, causing a worse sticky mess. Your hand didn’t relent in its torture of his cock though.

 

“S-Stop–” He cried out, his body violently twitching. “Fuck–”

“I want to make sure I get out every last drop.” You teased, continuing stroking his twitching, throbbing, aching cock. His whole body was tensed up, strangled gasps escaping him as he tried with every fiber of his being to pull himself away from you. The struggling was moving his hips against your strap-on though, causing more jolts of electric pleasure surging through him. “Just a little longer.”

You watched him struggle and writhe beneath you, completely losing control over his body. You didn’t make him struggle much longer though, watching as his body completely collapsed against the bed. He struggled to catch his breath, more sweat coating his body as his chest heaved. You pulled the strap-on out of him, smirking at the noise he made when it was fully removed. He squeezed his eyes close for only for a moment before they snapped open when he heard that shutter sound again.

You quickly sent this photo away too, having it stored safely away for the perfect blackmail. You looked down at him, more menacingly than before. “I can do this any time I want and you’ll let me. I own you now and you love it.” You said, not threatening him at all as you were simply explaining exactly how he felt. You bare hands run softly over his back, a shutter wracking his body. “Rest up, I’m not done with you yet.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

A very, very long overdue Part 2 of this fic

This chapter is primary within Ken’s perspective so don’t expect much plot development.

Taglist: @jokersgrf @momos-peaches @redbatty-koolaidman

It took a lot out of Ken to come to terms that his plastic heart had been singing a different name, the name of his best friend, whilst he was in complete disregard of it’s beautiful symphony and heartfelt lyrics of how stuck on you he secretly was; to the point where even as he was with stereotypical Barbie, the supposed girl of his dreams, his heart would sing just that little bit louder so that it would be significantly hard for him to hear her sweet words over the sound of the birdsong of his secretly yearning heart.

Ken had been conditioned into believing that Barbie is who he was made for, and that if he felt anything for anyone else other then her was considered a defect. Yet now with his head finally clear of the fog, the blonde beach boy was left with a singular question that had kept him from ever daring to push the boundaries of your relationship;

Did you like, like him like that? Or is your relationship strictly platonic and will never be borderline anything else?

After all Ken didn’t want his failed attempts with Barbie to be repeated with you because being rejected by Barbie was something he was more then willing to accept, but to be rejected by you? The one person who has always been there by his side, recognising him as a person and not an accessory, always inviting him over to stay at your house, encouraging him with your warm words that comforted him on those dark days where he didn’t think he was Kenough; That was something else entirely that he doesn’t think his plastic heart could handle. To not have you be in his life was blasphemous and he wasn’t willing to be the reason you left, especially not after having been glued to your side for as long as he could remember, that you’ve became a pivotal part of him that he doesn’t know what he’d do without.

You were his heart, his spirit and there was no one in BarbieLand who knew him better then you did. Which is why he was so hesitant to cross that line of friend to boyfriend, despite how sweet sounding and tempting being your boyfriend would be, because if you ever catch on that he was up to something, what was Ken meant to say in response? That he finally realised that the person he wanted this whole time was standing right in front of him? That you’ve been tormenting his mind ever since he decided to listen to his heart -which was you by the way- just incase he failed to mention it.

What. Was. Ken. Meant. To. Do.

If only you were here to help guide his mind, to guide him down the path he should take but he knew that you’d tell him that he’s the maker of his own sorry and shouldn’t have to wait for someone to tell him what to do, and how he should trust himself more in decision making because despite how well you could read him, he was the only one with the power to make those big decisions in life, he’s the one who should willingly take the plunge rather then wait for someone to push him off the ledge because life is all about making mistakes and learning from them whilst also being willing to take the first step into big ventures.

Gosh you were so smart, brilliant, amazing, talented, awesome and just overall so…you. Ken could just hope that he was Kenough for you…and he hopes that what he had in mind would defiantly win you over.

[livingintheupsidedown]

why didn’t you call???

Steve Harrington x Reader

[1.2k] - Steve forgets to call you.

Warnings - feeling neglected, steve being a bit of an ass without meaning to,  just all round kinda sad i guess?

A/N - i heard this song for the first time the other night and was inspired to write! this is completely based on the song “why didn’t you call???” by Saint Harison, lyrics have been used as a reference and are marked in bold. set in season 4 although the timeline may not be accurate. 

You’d had a pretty stressful week, work was kicking your ass. It had been non-stop, every time you thought you’d get a break another customer would come in with a stupid question, another rude remark. Your manager didn’t like you, which you already knew, but they were especially cruel recently. Picking up on any slight mistake and making you stay late to do things you could have easily done the next day when you just wanted to go home and see your boyfriend. All you needed was to hear his voice, maybe rant to him about your week and have him rant back. The last time you saw him was when you stopped by his work on your day off.

The bell above the door announced your arrival, although Steve already knew you’d be coming, as you stepped through the threshold. You had a love-hate relationship with Family Video. You loved the colours the place had, it gave it a cosy feeling that you adored and obviously the ability to rent out movies was always useful. You hated it for stealing your boyfriend from you. 

You found him behind the counter, along with Robin, Max and Dustin. You didn’t know the kids would be here, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t as close as Steve was to them but you adored them nonetheless. 

You worked your way around the store to the counter to hear them all muttering softly to each other, you peered around Dustin’s head to ask, “Who’s Rick Lipton?” 

Four heads simultaneously whipped around at the sound of your voice, all wide-eyed and mouth’s parted. You raised an eyebrow in response, clearly taken aback by their expressions. 

“No one!” Three of them shouted at you while Steve stared, no words leaving his mouth while he clearly tried to find something to say. He’d learnt pretty early on that he can’t lie to you, often he finds he just has to keep his mouth shut. 

“Steve come on we gotta go,” Dustin announced while picking up all his things and already making his way back around the front of the counter. Max followed while Robin hesitated slightly, momentarily thinking if they can leave one person to run the store. However, Steve didn’t move. 

He knew this meant he wouldn’t be spending his lunch break with you and he’d probably miss date night on Friday, which he really hoped he wouldn’t, depending on how things with Eddie went. But he also couldn’t tell you the truth, couldn’t get you involved, couldn’t lose you. 

“Now, Steve!” Max shouted which seemed to spur him into action. 

He grabbed his keys before turning to you, “Baby, i’m really sorry and i’ll explain everything later.” He placed a kiss against the swell of your cheek. “I’ll call you, i promise!” He left you there, stunned, as both employees ran out of the store. 

And now here you were, by the phone, still waiting for that same call. 

“Why didn't you call?

Are you away?

Are you okay?

I'm sat by the phone..”

You rested on the floor in your hallway, leaning against the wall. The phone sat in its holder on the wall as you willed it to ring. The soft pitter-patter of the rain outside kept you grounded as you tried to make sense of the situation. You hadn’t seen or heard from Steve in 3 days when he left you standing confused in the video store before Keith came out and insisted on staff only behind the counter. 

You couldn’t help but quietly chuckle to yourself, you imagined you looked pitiful right now. The radio playing softly in the background, candles lit as his dinner sat cold on the table while you ate yours where you were, although you seemed to have greatly lost your appetite. Popcorn and movies upon the coffee table, along with his favourite sweets you’d gone out and got specifically for him. 

Fresh sheets fitted on your bed, the extra blankets you use folded and put away because you knew Steve ran hot, a pair of his sweatpants and old Hawkins High t-shirt sat washed and dried for him to change into. 

Now you wondered if you even should have bothered. 

“Did you get into a car crash? …

God forbid, did somebody die?

There's just no way I slipped your mind”

Steve never missed date night. Unsurprisingly, it was his idea in the first place, and without much convincing, you agreed to do it once a week. “It’ll keep things interesting,” he’d said “and besides, it means i have an excuse to buy you flowers every week.” As you replayed the memory you turned to the kitchen, last week’s flowers sat wilting in a vase on the window sill. Your heart cracked at the sight, knowing you wouldn’t be getting a replacement pair anytime soon.

Your worry has definitely started to set in by now. Was something wrong? Did he need your help? Where the fuck was he? 

Maybe he’s stranded, you thought, broke down and he’s trying to find a way back. That seemed reasonable enough, if he had to walk to your house he’s expected to be a few hours late. Although… Hawkins is considerably small.

Maybe he crashed the car, you keep trying to reason with yourself, maybe he was driving back and someone crashed into him. But as his parents are hardly around you’re his next of kin, if he was hurt and in the hospital, you would’ve heard by now. 

Things just weren’t making sense.

“And you might be asleep

Dreaming of me

I know I'm just guessing”

Steve was exhausted. As soon as one problem began to solve itself another one started. He could feel himself slowly losing it, “barely sleeping for 72 hours will do that to a man,” he thought to himself.

And now, as Lucas agreed to stay awake with Max he could finally shut his eyes, could switch off even if it was just for an hour. His mind wandered to you and to how he felt bad the second he left you, guilt had been settled in his stomach for the past three days.

He thought about how he hadn’t had a chance to call you, how he’d definitely missed date night by now and how he felt like an awful boyfriend. He’d give anything to be wrapped up with you in bed, light snores softly filling the room while he admired you. 

He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, to whisper sweet nothings and promises of what's to come into your ear.

He wanted to feel your hands roaming under his shirt, foreheads touching and lips pressed together while the sound of heavy breaths fill the room.  

He wanted you to tell him that he’s doing the right thing, that this will work and everything’s going to be okay. 

The kids needed him right now, but he needed you. 

“This isn't like you

There's just no way I slipped your mind”

After accepting the call wasn’t coming you went back into the kitchen, pouring the leftovers into a container although you know it probably won't get eaten. 

Steve wasn’t forgetful. In fact, he may be the most organised person you know. How could he just forget about a date night?

“This is ridiculous,” you wondered aloud as your throat started to burn and tears filled your eyes. You realised it wasn’t the date night that he’d forgotten about, it was you. 

Steve had forgotten about you. 

“Why didn't you call?”

[classicanalyzer]

The Acolyte - Choice Thoughts

"A vergence could create life like what we see on this planet. It's a power that should be studied. Protected. Nothing could be more important to the Jedi. This is a noble mission." Sol

"Someday, those noble intentions you all have will destroy every Jedi in the galaxy." Mother Aniseya

This episode was an absolute doozy. Kogonada did it again. I was glad I was also right that this episode's title might have a choice-based theme.

I love that Mother Aniseya continues to be a good mother by making it clear that she puts her children's needs first over the witches' needs. Though we do see more of her dark side in how she was willing to manipulate and fuck with Torbin's head. She didn't even blame Sol for her death given the circumstances. I did think she was possibly going to diffuse the situation or at least get Mae out of the ensuing chaos by possession. Her warning about the Jedi's good intentions resulting in their destruction will prove prophetic 113 years later with Clone Wars/Order 66 and the Great Purge. I also like the reveal that the twins were a singular mine split into two (literal light and dark personifications). It's sad to see that only she was willing to let her child decide while the rest of the Coven chose an aggressive, violent path that only ended in the death of the entire coven when Indara forced them out of Kelnacca's head (the possession must've been also a dangerous Dark Side technique) and the separation of the twins.

We also get to know why the Jedi are on Brendok. They weren't there looking for the witches but to find the vergence in the Force. I also recently started reading the HR novels so hearing a mention of the Emergences was satisfying to me. I love that Sol took a more personal approach to trying to ease Torbin's mind compared to Indara's more traditional approach. We see the HR Jedi performing a check-up on this vergence and the miracle of non-sentient life that persists in this world unaffected by the Emergence.

I'm on the Jedi's side in this situation. Given what the Jedi saw, it looked like the witches were abusing the children and using them for dark purposes. The children seemingly implied to be manipulated to serve the coven's interests with the whole "'Everyone must walk through fear. Everyone must be sacrificed to fulfill their destiny.'" (Mae actually misquoted her mom and it was another step to tragedy). They also used the vergence to split a child's soul into two which based on the information and the ceremony, gives the impression that the coven was planning to sacrifice the children to empower the coven. Then there's the fact that only Mother Aniseya was the one who was willing to let Osha go with the Jedi with the rest of the Coven, especially the ones led by Mother Koril, being incredibly hostile towards the Jedi. Plus the possession of people and the mist move appeared like an attack which I can understand why Sol tragically killed Mother Aniseya (as I said, she didn't even look like she blames Sol). However, I do love that the Jedi did make mistakes as well. Torbin's impulsiveness to get off the world escalated the tension and the dark mist conjured by Mother Aniseya looked like an attack on either Mae or others.

I like how we get to see another side of Mae from the flashback. We see that even she's unsure about how she could become a leader of the Coven despite being a child. We also see that she wasn't responsible for the fire! She was just trying to simply try to burn the Jedi book but accidentally dropped the lamp. It's good to see that at least she wasn't that axe-crazy. Plus seeing a Jedi who killed her mom right in front of her with zero context would definitely explain her singular hatred for the Jedi.

That Kelnacca fight was absolutely terrifying. Kelnacca was not only a Jedi but an absolute beast of a fighter. Seeing Torbin get his scars and almost get killed was chilling. Speaking of Torbin, his biggest flaws were not appreciating non-Coruscant life and his overeagerness to get back to "normalcy." I also felt chills when I saw how the possession worked which definitely played a part in Torbin's desire to go back home. Torbin got his wish of heading back to Coruscant in the worst ways possible. No wonder he took the Barash Vow, went into exile, and later committed suicide to atone for how his actions resulted in the ensuing mess. It also explains why Kelnacca (who unwillingly used his claws which is an act of heresy in Wookiee culture) decided to isolate himself and why he drew the symbols of the Coven given his brief possession by the entire Coven.

Indara is also a standout of this episode. While she does represent a more stoic Jedi character, she does hold the team together. She made sure Torbin tries to appreciate life out of Coruscant, keep Sol level headed to realize the difference between Osha’s and his desires, and saved Kelnacca from possession. I also love how she recognized how cultures are different from their own views but also concedes to how from what info they had, the things they did see were fishy. If Sol is the empath of the team, then Indara is the anchor of the team.

I really love how empathetic Sol is. His empathy is his greatest and clouded trait. He was willing to defy the Council to protect what he saw as abuse against children and using them. And God, he looked so broken when he killed Mother Aniseya (in front of Mae too which he thought was Osha!) and for a while, I think he was in shock as Mother Kohril got some good hits on him. I also love how Sol almost said shit when Kelnacca is revealed to have been possessed. Then he had to make the most sadist choice of all time by choosing to prioritize using the Force to save Osha as his powers were failing. I don't blame him for wanting to turn himself over to the Council and wanting to save Mae no matter what she did.

This was an amazing episode as I said. Also, I was absolutely jamming to the Power of Two by Victoria Monét (It came out on June 14th) and I was so glad to see being used here as the end credits. The song was pretty sad considering the dialogue being the twins being ashamed and bitter towards each other. I also love the massive departure music-wise from even the franchise with this song.

"My children are our future. Her wish must be considered...Right now I choose mother." Mother Aniseya

"After everything this little girl has lost tonight, you'd take away her dream as well? Before you throw yourself at the mercy of the Council, ask yourself why you made this choice." Indara

[hibischush]

Dancing headcannons for the bachelors/bachelorettes? Like how good they are, how much they enjoy it etc? I love love love your writing and seriously can't wait for Aug 5th

So sorry for such a late reply! Life & work caught up to me. Who knew that preparing for college took a lot of time, money, and effort, amirite?

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm glad you all enjoy my writing and I'm so excited for August 5th 🌺💗

Bachelors;

Balor

I don't think that Balor would seek out dancing himself or dancing alone

He liked being with groups of people where their focus isn't entirely on him

He's not bad at dancing but not great either, but he's aware of that and still enjoys dancing with others despite mistakes being made

Once in a romantic relationship, he starts to seek out dancing with you during quiet moments

Like think at night in the kitchen, lights are off and the only noise is the sound of the stove heating up a kettle of water for night tea

And Balor slowly rocks the two of you back and forth tenderly and deliberately, not having to say a word to express how much he loves you

March

March is the only person on here that explicitly dislikes dancing

He's never liked it, mainly because he isn't that great at it

He can never match a tempo, he steps on others feet, and he feels like people watch him and make fun of him silently

If you wanted March to dance with you, it couldn't be in public

Being friends with him, its nearly impossible to convince him that you'd teach him

And being romantically involved isn't that much easier

He just gets super nervous of messing up or looking stupid in front of anyone, especially you

Hayden

If you look at Hayden you already know what style of dance he enjoys best

It's gonna be the honky-tonky country dances of western American

This man can throw a hoedown

Hayden is loud and enjoys company, and square-dancing is a wonderful opportunity for him to be himself

He loves the community feeling surrounding it

He's been doing it for years and is a master at it, and willing to teach anyone the dance

Ryis

Ryis enjoys dancing at social outings if he's somehow roped into it

Not to say that he would avoid the dancefloor, but he only wants to dance if someone else wants him to be there

He also knows folk dance styles like square dancing

But I know that he would enjoy jiving the best, especially with a romantic partner

He loves the energy and playfulness behind it

Eiland

Just as his sister had, Eiland was raised with the expectation to know ballroom dances as the son of nobility

Growing up he found the lessons as a drag, and would much rather be out in the field digging than tripping over his own feet for an hour

He was good at dancing, but clearly didn't put in a lot of passion into his movements and his dance partners would be able to tell that he really didn't want to be there

He only really started to enjoy dancing once he met his s/o

that way he had a dance partner he enjoyed, not one that was set up to court him

He'd be showing you off while dancing

Eiland was only taught waltz and variations like the viennese waltz for public usage

But he would definitely enjoy slower and more tender styles like the tango in privacy

Bachelorettes;

Celine

Celine knows how to do most folk style of dancing

She's going to drag you into a hoedown once you're friends you cannot escape it

Reina will make sure you can't escape too lmao

Celine really likes dancing! She doesn't do it often but when the occasion calls for it, she'll do it

She also gives me a lot of irish vibes for some reason, and I can easily see her adapting irish dances like the irish step dance or céilí dance

Celine prefers the excitement and joy found in group dances and likely won't dance alone or in private

Juniper

Juniper would def eat up belly dancing

I feel like its a daily ritual for her

Pop a record in and dance her heart away for 10 mins with Dozy

But other than singular dance styles, she would like partner based styles that are sensual like the Argentine tango

Its slow and requires her to read her partners movements

Idk its going to be the sweetest you've been treated by her because she's so focused on your movements and your reactions to hers

She's good at her 'safe' dances, but she cannot do fast tempos with partners

She will be tripping over you or herself

Reina

Of course Reina likes dancing are you kidding me

She comes from a musical family after all, she'll have some experience

I think she'd know how to do most folk dances by heart, similar to Celine

Like she's been in a hoedown alr

Reina loves to drag her siblings onto the dance floor and likes to improvise her dances to their uncoordinated ones

But if I had to say specific styles that are her favorite...

I would say mambo or west coast swing for ballroom dancing and just general improv for her dancing on her own

Reina looves the WCS because you can work off of your dance partner

Valen

I don't think Valen is one to dance for fun

The most she'd know how to do is just the generic slow dance (think prom dances lol)

I also think that she wouldn't dance by herself for the fun of it, and wouldn't dance in social areas if not required

However, if she had a partner who enjoyed dancing then I'm sure she'd love to dance with you

Valen isn't the greatest at dancing--she's a bit stiff and loses her tempo occasionally-- but she likes to show that she isn't perfect at everything to her partner, and enjoys the closeness

Adeline

I've talked about this before, but Adeline definitely has experience with ballroom dancing

Particularly the waltz/viennese waltz

Any dance with wide, sweeping steps

As a rank of nobility, both she and Eiland were required to learn it

But I believe that she genuinely enjoys it and its one of her only hobbies that can make time for

I think it would be cute if she would teach lessons for the kids in Mistria

She obviously prefers to have a dancing partner, and she'll enjoy having a friend or a romantic partner to dance with

Since she dances often and has years of practice, she is quite good at it

I could see her being interested in ballet (esp pointe)

I hoped y'all liked this. Also apologies for any mistakes on the names of/styles of dances are incorrect! I do not dance on the daily lol

[metalgearstranding]

Big Boss' Boyfriends: a Retrospective? A Character Analysis? A Bunch of Words Strung Together For Sure

Re: this post about Ocelot being willing to die FOR Big Boss versus Kaz willing to die WITH Big Boss. I think it's absolutely true, and I just wanted to expand on the subject and talk about Ocelot and Kaz, and why they're different on that front because of their personality and their history.

(Notes: 1 English is not my first language so forgive the mistakes and the general lack of polish 2) those are of course my personal interpretations of events colored by bias. I'm not pretending to know the Correct and True version of anything. Also I might be misrembering/forgetting things. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about CANON informations, add important infos I might have forgotten, and share your own interpretations of the characters and events if you want!)

Unlike Ocelot who went on to do his solo thing after MGS3, Kaz was taken in by Snake after they met, and MSF was born shortly after. Kaz was vital to the creation of MSF, it was his baby as much as it was Snake's. MSF was more than a base, it was a home, for both of them. It brought them close, not only because they shared something they made together, but also because they spent a lot of time together, physically. Even when Snake wasn't on mother base, they constantly kept in contact through the radio. They had plenty of opportunities to get to know each other personally and become close. It's ironic that Kaz probably never knew Snake's real name, because for a while he was in a better place than Ocelot to really get to know "John".

Officially, Snake was the boss at MSF of course, with Kaz serving as his XO, his second in command. Their relationship never really felt particularly hierarchical however. Despite his talk in MGS3 about being loyal to the top brass and willing to die for them, Snake never gave me the vibe that he cared very much about ranks and rigid military rules, especially not after leaving FOX to do his own thing. Kaz didn't have that much military experience to begin with in comparison, so he was probably more than comfortable with the loosey goosey operation Snake was conducting. So yeah, to me, Snake and Kaz in Peace Walker felt more like equals than anything.

Even without a romantic angle, their relationship was very symbiotic, so it makes perfect sense that they'd both be willing to go down with the ship, considering the amount of time, money, love, and blood that was poured into their new way of life. Kaz especially -in contrast to his sharp business acumen and practical sense- always struck me as a very... intense guy, for better or for worse. Hell, the bbkaz meet cute was Kaz almost blowing both himself and Snake with a grenade... So yes, straight from the beginning, Kaz was very willing to die with Snake, first as an enemy, and then as a friend/lover/partner once Snake's rizz won his heart over. And it was both Kaz's practical sense and his passionate nature that cost him Snake's companionship (in part).

Ocelot's case is simultaneously both simpler and much more complicated. He and Snake are as inextricably linked together as Snake and Kaz, but in a different way.

The two men have known each other for a long time, and they were around each other for one of the most formative moments of their lives. Snake lost an eye to Ocelot and gained his absolute loyalty (and the coolness factor that comes with an eyepatch). Meanwhile, Ocelot simply wouldn't be Ocelot without Snake: the revolvers, the interrogation fetish, Ocelot's chosen Purpose in life, all of that can be retraced to Snake. They share a mother, one spiritually and the other genetically. They've tried to kill each other several times, and saved each other just as often. Aside from the nod to Ocelot and Snake's plot armor, MGS3 loves to show how Fate brought them together. First, by making the Boss -he most important and influential person in Snake's life- Ocelot's mother, and second, with all the moments where Ocelot COULD have killed Snake, but wasn't "allowed" to.

Even without the events of the story bringing them together, unlike Snake and Kaz who are complimentary but very different, Snake and Ocelot are very alike. The Sorrow spoke of the Spirit of the Warrior, which both men have. Snake joined the military very young (15yo), and that life is all he's known and wanted. Ocelot was literally born on a battlefield and raised to be a spy. Both men live by the sword, are perfectly content living that way, and they understand that about each other. The notes for the MGS3 script about their meeting in Rassvet speak of them immediately liking each other: "a pure love". If you ignore the strong connotations of the word "love", it's clear that both men recognized as kindred spirit in the other at the very least.

No matter how strong the bond and the understanding between them, Snake and Ocelot rarely came into direct contact after MGS3. It's very possible they met more often when the Patriots were founded, or were in more direct contact after Snake left, but we don't get to see that in game. With or without hints to Snake and Ocelot's contacts through the years, the games make it clear that Ocelot is someone who prefers to work alone behind the scenes, and is actually quite happy and more comfortable that way. There are several hints that he DOES miss Snake sometimes though in the script of MGSV. Then there's this amazing line: "Foxes spend most of their time alone, but they'll keep the same mate. They say that in the case of the Blanford's foxes, it's for life. *hmph* Can't see the sense of it myself." Ocelot is obviously full of shit, because this describes him to a T: he too spent most of his time alone but kept the same mate (Snake) all of his life.

Ocelot being apart from Snake most of the time seems to be in major part a decision of the former. But that means that despite sharing their formative moments, Ocelot didn't get to know Snake -"John"- as he is in his day-to-day life like Kaz did. Snake's more intimate habits, quirks, tastes, what makes him laugh, how long he takes to dress up in the morning, that kind of stuff you only learn by sharing someone's life he didn't have access to as far as we know. In MGSV, Ocelot says this: "She (Quiet) fell in love with the legend (Snake). I was the same way, once." You can interpret this line a few different ways, but it's indeniable: Ocelot fell in love with the legend. And I think in a way, because of the physical distance between them, Snake remained a Legend in his mind, a distant deity he had chosen to devote himself to.

Ocelot might not have had the privilege to be raised and taken care of by his parents, but he is definitely their son. The Boss and the Sorrow were characterized by their strong sense of loyalty, love and duty. When the Philosophers forced the couple to face each other in battle, threatening to end their son's life if they didn't, the Sorrow willingly decided he'd be the one to give his life. And of course, the Boss' life is filled with examples of her self-sacrificial nature. Through the sacrifice of her life and reputation, she saved millions of lives.

Ocelot wasn't as noble as the Boss, he doesn't exactly share his mother's wish for peace, but he is just as self-sacrificial and loyal to a fault (well, to HIM at least). He didn't like Zero's vision of the world, and he went to impressively absurd lengths to destroy it. Whether or not he truly believed that hard in Snake's pet project, Ocelot still went to MORE impressively absurd lengths to help Snake see it through. Not for honor, but for Him.

But what about Snake's in all of that? Snake is kind of an idiot, the end. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

Seriously though, I don't think I'm being very controversial if I say that Snake is single-minded to an unhealthy degree. He doesn't seem to care about much outside of war, guns and cigars... And the Boss. And that's where the problem lies.

The extent to which Snake was attached to the Boss was a little erm... worrisome? For a man who said he didn't care about other people's lives, Snake sure was interested in the Boss as EVA points out in MGS3. Snake didn't take their time apart well, and he took her death (at his own hands) even worse. The events of Snake Eater pretty much singlehandedly ruined Snake and all remaining hopes he could've had to someday live a healthier life.

One of my friends once said about Snake that he was incapable of love. I don't think it's wrong, but it's also very much not true, because Metal Gear Solid as a series happened because Snake couldn't heal from the pain of losing someone he loved so deeply. Sadly, it did affect his relationships after that, especially the ones who loved him most, Ocelot and Kaz in particular. Of course, the death of the Boss wasn't the only factor for that, there were also the betrayals, the many, many betrayals... I'm not gonna talk about Zero here, but aside from the Boss, he's the one who did the most damage to Snake.

After he and Zero parted ways, unable to reconcile their difference of opinions about the Boss's will (and Zero doing the first in a series of Very Fucked Up Things), Snake went on to do his thing and met Kaz. They found each other when they needed it the most, and despite their ideological differences, joined forces to create a home for the both of them.

The day they met, when Snake explained to Kaz what he was doing in Columbia (mercenary work). Kaz's first reaction was: "so you go where the money is". Snake denied this, told Kaz that they were fighting for themselves. Kaz insisted: "so, for the money". Snake should've seen this as the red flag it later came to be. Snake does what he does for the love of the Game. He fights to live and lives to fight. Kaz does what he does for money. That served Snake well during the MSF days, because Snake is not a very practical guy outside of the battlefield, logistics aren't his thing and neither is handling money.

And that's when Kaz did an oopsie. MSF was struggling, and when a golden opportunity presented itself, Kaz just couldn't say no. Blinded by the prospect of getting a lot of money to help MSF grow, Kaz accepted to work with Zero... without telling Snake. Snake who had just been more or less stabbed in the back by Zero and had trust issues up the wazoo at this point. Snake didn't say much when it was revealed, but you can feel the disappointment in his voice when he says Kaz's name.

When Kaz learns in Phantom Pain that Snake has left to make a bigger, better MSF, he gets pissed and vows to send Snake to hell. Aside from being the consequence of his actions in Peace Walker, Kaz's reaction is both puzzling and very understandable.

Snake and Kaz were close, they were partners. Or so Kaz thought. Kaz would've been ready to die with Snake for what they had created together, but Ocelot informed him that he wouldn't get to be by Snake's side while he built his new nation of fighters. Kaz had been... demoted, essentially. In his mind at least. No longer an equal partner, he was now working FOR Snake, not with him. And he couldn't take it. He had become so comfortable sitting at the right hand of God that he thought he was now entitled to share the throne with him (Which I guess makes Kaz Lucifer in a way in this analogy...? And Ocelot Archangel Michael? XD).

Snake at this point had bought into his own hype, rejected the Boss and claimed the title of Big Boss once and for all after struggling with it for years. He went along with Zero's Phantom idea, and rode away from a burning hospital with a smile on his face. If Snake had second thoughts at the time, if he felt guilty or grateful about the enormous sacrifices that were made in his name, we don't really get to hear about it.

Kaz lost his partner status but he wasn't kicked to the curb completely however, which means Snake still wanted him around in some capacity at least. Or Snake assumed that he had Kaz's loyalty no matter what, and would gladly get along with the plan just like Ocelot. In a way, he wouldn't have been wrong, because despite Kaz's anger and his vow to get revenge on Big Boss via enfant terrible one day, he still stayed around to help with the Phantom project. It's unknown if Kaz submitted himself -willingly or not- to hypnotism. Ocelot being over-committed is nothing new, but I wonder if he would've insisted to do the same to Kaz...

If Kaz had carefully proded the limits of his position in Peace Walker, in Phantom Pain he kept poking at them with his crutch . Kaz had always been intense, but his anger and lust for revenge during the game were very loud next to Venom Snake's calm attitude. Kaz constantly went against Snake's decision, demanding where Ocelot suggested. The best exemple is Kaz outright telling Venom Snake that if he took Quiet back to the base, he'd "just have her killed", sending choppers with armed men pointing their weapons at Snake. Once again, Kaz acts as an equal, not someone who's taking orders, which either means he WAS hypnotized and didn't learn his lesson, or he wasn't hypnotized, and doesn't recognize Venom Snake's authority as his commander at all. Even if he gave no shit about a hierarchy, if he was pissed against the real Snake, Kaz still seemed to yearn for him, at least at the beginning. They get so close so often in the first hours of the game that you really wonder whether they're going kiss or not.

We know where Kaz ends up at some point after this (training Solid Snake, then getting killed -presumably by Ocelot- in his home). I'd really like to know when he left Venom Snake's side, and how Venom took it...

All the while, Ocelot had always been working in Snake's interests and never waivered. Ocelot stayed behind as a spy for Snake when the latter left the Patriots. Zero was probably aware of that fact, but by that point, Ocelot's loyalty and love for Snake was beyond question, so it's no wonder he was chosen to watch over Snake for the next 9 years while he was in a coma. Meanwhile, Kaz was informed that Snake was alive and safe, but was not told where, and he was not allowed to see him either (because his presence would be a dead giveaway for Snake's enemies). Whatever news he received were via Ocelot.

Kaz's emotions always get the best of him, he's very expressive, so we know how he feels at all times. Ocelot on the other hand is calm, composed, in control. He's made a career out of pretending to be what he's not, so it's hard to say how he really feels. I'm sure he was devastated by what happened to Snake, but we don't really get to see it sadly. In MGSV he acts like a professional, he offers his expertise to Snake when it's needed. He's not subservient, but he's fully aware of his place and his role. Despite his poker face, I think you can still very much feel Ocelot's affection for Snake during the game (and possibly even some jealousy towards Quiet).

Ocelot's insistence to work alone, his history with Snake, and his reverence for Snake saved him from a lot of the heartbreak Kaz had to go through. It also guaranteed his place in Snake's life until the very end. We don't really know what Snake thought of Ocelot, how he really felt about him, but we know he trusted him fully, which, considering all the betrayals Snake went through, really means something.

Kaz made errors of judgement and let his emotions get the better of him, which cost him Snake's trust and the place at his side he wanted so badly. Ocelot's independance and dedication to his mission cost him an opportunity to really get to know the man he had worked so hard for. He never really got to see the fruits of his schemes: the end of the Patriots, and Snake himself, gloriously back to life, free from them at last. And because of his single mindedness, his selfishness (or obliviousness perhaps), and the heartbreak he could never heal from, Snake was never able to give back to the people who loved him and gave everything to him.

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and instruments in a youth orchestra

seventeen as different people in my symphony orchestra lmao. inspired by @hannyoontify 's svt as diff band instruments :>

(warnings for curse words)

masterlist

seungcheol

concertmaster. the first chair of first violin. honestly he wasn't going to be anything else, not with his charismatic nature and his power and his leader qualities. the entire orchestra is in awe of him actually, and it's due to his ability to read and play music to an incredible degree (even if he's sight reading it and the notes have far too many ledger lines) that the music actually manages to flow as he drags the orchestra along by playing the violin melody. 

jeonghan

harpist. our harps only come to rehearsal some-odd weeks before the actual performance because they're a) a difficult instrument to bring in and b) their parts are often simply melody decoration or emphasis of melody and we can afford to practise without them. harpists are a little like celebrities when they come in bc they only have to come to half of the rehearsals and also bc they play such pretty-sounding instruments. all in all the harpists are just vv jeonghan coded. 

joshua

first chair of the second violins. literally he is exactly like the first chair 2nd violinist back when i first joined one of my orchestras: the utter sweetest, literally so accommodating and understanding of the new violinists and willing to teach them concert basics etc. but also he just, like. doesn't show up to half of the rehearsals. like seriously the front desk of second violins only has one person for most of the months until it's the day of the concert and boom he's back smiling in his seat like he never left

junhui

french horn. french horn players are the prettiest people ever actually. also there's never a mean word on the conductor's tongue for them. half of the time he's staring out of the window because let's face it, the french horn doesn't exactly have a bunch of stuff to play. but then when they do, it's the richest, warmest, most golden sound ever and it's so beautiful and fills out the melody wonderfully. and then he empties his horn in the middle of the piece for no apparent reason other than he wanted to get the spit out immediately. 

hoshi

trombone. he's that one trombone who plays super super loudly and is, most of the time, very good but when he makes a mistake it's a loud mistake and has the conductor stopping the orchestra just to sigh at him disappointedly. grins innocently like he didn't just make a mistake. even if you don't talk to the trombones that much, you'll know exactly who he is because of how noisy and hyper he is. messes around with the percussion instruments during rehearsal break, has woozi threatening to destroy his trombone in retaliation

wonwoo

clarinet. but not just the clarinet, he's the bass clarinet too. clarinets are so funky and honestly they keep to themselves in their little clarinet group most of the time, but they're super nice people and actually really really funny once you get to know them. also the clarinet just gives so much wonwoo vibes?? i think it's the supporting vibes, the fact that they're not as center-stage as the squeaky flutes but still play similar melodies, with their warmer, smoother sound that is so wonwoo

woozi

percussion. the timpani, the snare drum, the bass drum, the glock, those huge-ass chimes, they're all managed by him. he is the entire percussion section. crazily good at his job too (which is why he's even capable of handling all those instruments) and because of this he's often seen as intimidating and terrifying. snarky, lowkey doesn't give a shit about the conductor especially when he starts badmouthing the perc performance in front of the entire orchestra bc he's just one person doing everything okay give him a break

minghao

viola. gets pissed at everyone who calls the viola "just a bigger violin" because fuck you actually the viola is a real instrument and has its own name. also is just stressed 24/7 for no apparent reason. apparently has loads of other extra commitments like how he's in a jazz band and he's learning the saxophone but he's also an art student with an artist research study due in like two days that he hasn't even picked an artist for yet. even if he's dead on his feet he'll still punch you for calling the viola a fake instrument tho

mingyu

double bass. everyone thinks he's like, the coolest person ever (he plays the double bass!!!) but in reality he's actually just a total loser who giggles whenever someone says they loved his playing. is still a really really good double bass tho. it's hard to tell when it's playing correctly bc it's such a low instrument, but the moment the double bass is out of time the effects can be felt throughout the entire orchestra. he's proud to announce that when he can't play something, instead of playing and messing up he just sits there and doesn't play they part. 

dokyeom

oboe. he has wind instrument fingers okay, but also he's definitely slaying those yearning oboe solos in those gentle waltzy movements. he plays his solo and the entire audience just falls silent, stunned by the beauty of his playing. also he's really fucking loud just like the oboe. i would have put him in flute but there is something more awe-inspiring and powerful about the oboe compared to the prissy flutes who lowk don't know how to sight read properly bc there are so many of them

seungkwan

first violin. he gives the sassy and performance-like vibes of firsts, and is very very passionate about telling everyone just how important the first violin is in the orchestra. does lightly throw shade on the second violins (because wtf No One is able to hear what they're playing) too, like every first violin ever. but he's so so hardworking, and honestly the only reason that first violins aren't scolded during rehearsals is because of how hard we practise, and seungkwan? seungkwan would practise until he could perform it blindfolded. 

vernon

percussion apprentice. he's actually a second violin but apparently handling like 5 different instruments is actually a little difficult for woozi??? so he's offered to learn how to play perc too. ends up being in charge of the snare drum and all the little additional instruments they sometimes have for specific pieces. enjoys it a lot actually and even tho it's not his main instrument he thinks he could get pretty good at playing percussion. his presence is sorely missed in the seconds tho bc one of their actually playing players is gone and there first chair is still MIA 

chan

cello. first chair cello, specifically, because he has such a similar personality to my first chair cello who's just so bright and lovely and outgoing. actually the coolest person ever, everyone loves him. makes an effort to know everyone's names in the orchestra, particularly the little 13 year olds who have only just joined. lets people play is cello during break, tries to teach them and laughs when they make squeaky noises on it. despises the tenor clef with a passion. 

request guidelines

reactions tags: @jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @zarara @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @iheartyujin @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @butiluvu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt