#drip both in vibes and appearance

[designernishiki]

if we get a Character With The Most Drip poll imma need yall to pull thru and vote for my man kuze. no one drips like that motherfucker and you know it

[chrissturniolosbiggestslut]

— BRATTY BITCH

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

in which:

chris fucks your attitude out of you in the bathroom, nick and matt in the room just next door.

warnings: dom!chris, sub!reader, p in v, unprotected sex ( boooo wrap it before you tap it), pure filthhh, degrading, praising, oral (m receiving), creampie, slight breeding kink

**NOT PROOFREAD**

└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

it wasn't often that you and chris had arguments. however it was often that you and chris would have a huge fucking attitude on the same day. seeing that you and chris both were on the sassy, petty side of things, disagreements tended to spike when one or both of you were having a bad day.

though something about today was different, the way you and chris continued to shoot bitter and snarky remarks back and forth ticked you off just as much as it did him. but this time it set another something off inside of you; lust, desire.

as odd as it felt, the venom in chris's harsh words and the deep set appearance of his eyes and brows while he stared at you in annoyance caused a familiar warmth to grow between your legs. 

there was nothing you could do about it now, though, as you and chris were streaming on twitch, accompanied by nick and matt. you knew exactly what you were doing, constantly flashing him the "fuck me" eyes was your favorite thing to do right now. but as much as you appeared to want him, you only continued to shoot disses at him.

"im sorry this stream isn't giving as hard as it should be," nick begins, "y/n and chris have been bitching and complaining all day and like hate each other today so the vibes are a little off!" he states sassily, dramatically side-eyeing you and then chris before returning the attention to the game him and matt were in the middle of. 

thinking about what nick said, you smirk and turn your body so your back is rested against the couch's armrest. you pull your legs up toward your chest so that you just barely clothed pussy is on display for chris at the other end of the couch, it only covered by the thin sleep shorts you're wearing and nothing more.

chris looks in your eyes, down between your legs, then back up into your eyes. you couldn't help but notice the shift of his hips and the darkening of his eyes once he met your eyes again. you smirked once more, biting your lip and looking away. 

chris has finally had enough, glancing at nick and matt to ensure that the stream won't be able to see his massive boner when he walks by before making his way, grabbing you harshly by the wrist and dragging you into the bathroom just outside his room.

he slams and locks the door behind you both, immediately locking his dark eyes to yours. "you think you're fucking funny, hm?" he questions, his expression dripping in annoyance, anger, but most prominently, lust. 

you shrug, "i think i am, yeah." 

"who the fuck do you think you are, running your mouth all day with that big ass attitude?" he questions eyeing your body up and down. you watch as the print in his sweats grows, and you almost laugh.

you smile in amusement, "you act like you weren't doing the same fucking thing! ignoring me every time i tried to be nice and actually help you with something, really?" you sigh, "i mean it's seriously just unbelievably how-"

your rant is cut short when you're slammed against the bathroom door with a thud and suddenly, chris's lips are on yours. as much as you hate to admit it, you immediately gave into the kiss, answering it with so much desire and neediness in you.

feeling chris's hands squeeze on your ass, you gasp, apparently giving chris an invitation to shove his tongue down your throat, deepening the makeout even further. 

you clasp your hands behind his neck, kissing him harsh as you feel his hands leave your ass and instead slip your tiny shorts off of your body. his hands glide down your ass to your dripping pussy, gliding a finger through your slit, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips. 

you feel him pull his lips from yours as he stands up straight. "c'mon baby, put that stupid little mouth to use, yeah?" he states, fiddling with the waist of his sweats before pulling them down and kicking them off at the ankles, soon removing his shirt as well.

you oblige, sinking to your knees desperately, feeling a twist in your lower stomach as more time goes by without him inside of you. 

he lets you do the honors of ripping his boxers down, letting his huge, hard dick spring out from under them. he kicks those off too, leaving him completely naked. you stroke him a few times before kitten licking his tip, causing his head to be thrown back as he leans against the counter. 

"we don't have all fucking night, bitch, let's go," he spits as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail. 

you look up at him through your lashes, stuffing his cock down your throat. "oh shit," he whimpers softly, pushing your head down harshly, forcing you to take all 9 inches of him in your mouth.

you gag, spit dripping down your chin and into your shirt, onto your tits, however you didn't care one bit. instead, you took your hands off from chris's thighs and pulled the top of your tank down, causing your plump tits to pop from your shirt as you continued to suck chris off.

"yeah you do it so fucking well baby, jesus," he shoves you down profusely, your gags and tears constant as you look up at him, pleading for a break. he, of course, ignores you.

you moan against him, sending vibrations down his cock, eliciting yet another moan from him. "oh goddamnit baby. oh shit im finna fucking cum."

his motions sped up and got more intense, the hand in your hair pushing you down so hard that it was starting to hurt your nose, but at the same time, you loved it.

chris moans one last time, throwing his head back as his hot, white cum shoots down your throat, you immediately swallowing it all. chris looks down at you, satisfied. you stare  back up at him, sticking your tongue out just to show him how you drank up all of his cum.

he smirks, "such a fucking cumslut for me, hm? yeah, bend over for me, baby. you're gonna fucking feel this shit."

you do just as he says, bending yourself over the counter. you soon feel a cold hand press against your back, arching your fat ass up even more. 

"so fucking beautiful," you hear chris mutter, as he slaps his dick against your pussy before lining himself up. "such a shame your such a goddamn brat," he states, violently shoving his huge cock up your dripping wet pussy. 

your eyes roll back, loving his huge size. almost instantly, you begin to moan unstoppably. you were drunk on his dick so fast it was almost insane.

"shit," he groans, slapping your ass harshly, "you fucking love my cock, don't you, bitch?" he grits, pounding into you harder.

you moan loudly, "oh fuck! yes, god daddy i love it so much." you feel his tip brush against your cervix, his hard thrusts doing things to you.

"how do you feel, hm? you're such a fucking little slut, moaning my name so loud when my brothers; your bestfriends are right in my room next door. you must want them to hear me fucking you, huh? you want them to see what a slutty bitch you are for me," he spanks you once again.

you did, in fact, love it, to say the least. the feeling of him filling you up was probably one of the best feelings you've had. and the way he slapped your ass was something you could dream of. the sting that went through you hurt so good. all you wanted was more.

chris's thrusts got harsher, your insides surely bruised at this point. "god, you take me so fucking good, baby. you love being split open on me, yeah? you're so cockdrunk, its pathetic," he spits, placing a hand on your stomach just to feel the bulge of him inside you. "feel that, love? feel how deep in your stomach i am?"

you moan the loudest you have all night, his intense dirty talking getting you so good. "oh god, daddy i love your cock so much; fuck it feels amazing."

he smirks behind you, "yeah, i know it does- shit!" he moans, "im close, baby."

you whimper as chris slaps your ass once more, leaving a bright red handprint, "me too, oh my!"

his hands move from your hair and back to your hips, giving him a better grip to pound you as hard as he has all night, lifting screams from the back of your throat.

"you gon' let me cum inside you, slut? let me feel you up with my fucking kids, yeah?"

you moan, "yes, chris! oh shit im cumming! fuck!" you shout, letting yourself go all over him as he did the same inside you. he thrusts a few more times, fucking his cum into you.

he pulls out, leaning against the counter next to you, the two of you panting heavily. 

while you're still left collecting yourself, chris is already almost finished getting dressed. he opens the door, leaving you there; all fucked out with his cum dripping down your legs. he looks you up and down with a smirk, meeting your eyes again before saying, "maybe think about it next time before you act like a little brat all day."  with that, you hear him greet his brothers once more as you still sit there in disbelief. how could he get you so good, then just… leave?. but damn, that shit felt good.

[verstappen-cult]

Hi Gwen, I really like your story. Can I ask for a lestappen x reader where they are going out together (shopping or date). Then when Max and Charles leave them for a bit, someone tries to hit on the reader but she's oblivious about it? Thank you!

“You think this would fit me?” You ask Charles, blue dress in hand. “But I want it in green.” Your boyfriend didn’t even have a chance to answer before you turned around, looking for something else. 

“I like how blue looks on you.” Max says, sitting next to an annoyed Charles. 

You’ve been shopping for the upcoming trip you’ve planned for summer break. They were excited to come with you at first, even though you insisted on going alone, so now they have a choice but to follow you around until you find everything you need. 

“That’s just because blue it’s your team color.” Charles huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “She looks prettier in Ferrari red.”

“Can you stop being so whiny?” Charles sticks his tongue out, leaning against Max. 

“Why don’t we go for something to drink, uh?” Your boyfriend says, wrapping an arm around the Monégasque’s shoulders. “Will you be okay?” 

“Can you get me an Iced Latte, please?” You look at him beneath your lashes as he stands up, dragging Charles with him. 

You decide to try on the blue dress just because Max likes it when you wear blue clothes. On your way to the changing room you spot a red strapless top and you grab it too. Making them happy is that easy. 

In the end, you like both items and there’s no doubt you’ll buy them, but you still want the dress in green. As you get out of the changing room, wanting to ask a saleslady if they have it in other colors, you bump into a young man which causes you to drop the clothes onto the floor. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” You’re quick to apologize. The stranger looks up from his cellphone, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. However, once he sees you, his expression relaxes and a smirk appears on his face. 

“Don’t worry. It was my fault, I was looking at my phone.” He crouches down in front of you, picking up the clothes. He scans the items very carefully before giving them back to you. “Good choice.”

“Thank you, I really like them.” You say, happy that someone thinks they’re pretty. Maybe he’ll buy them for his girlfriend too. 

“I’m sure you’ll look hot in that dress.”

You don’t know what to say or how to react. Most times you ignore what men say to you, other times you thank them when they have good intentions or you know they're fans that respect you. But this man doesn't give you good vibes, not with the way he’s smiling at you with his eyes running over every curve in your body. 

He takes a step closer, and you want to throw up. What kind of perfume is he using? 

“You can use it on our date.” He says it with so much confidence you want to laugh in his face, but you don’t do it because that wouldn’t be very wise of you. However, you still hear someone laughing behind you. 

You don’t have to turn around to see who it is, you can recognize that laugh anywhere. 

“Who told you she wants to go out with you?” You feel Max’s warm body behind you, his hand finding your waist in a very possessive way.

Charles keeps laughing, which is drawing the attention of everyone in the shop. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, wiping imaginary tears as he stands next to Max. “Does that really work out for you? Because it’s awful, mate.”

“You should really think about changing the way you approach women.” Max’s voice is dripping with venom, and you instinctively lean closer. 

“Waiting for them outside the changing room, really? Pretending to not see her?” Charles is not laughing anymore, he looks pissed. “She’s taken, by the way.”

The stranger looks between Charles and Max, recognition crossing his features. 

“I’m so sorry!” He apologizes, his whole attitude changing in a minute. “I wouldn’t dream of hitting on your girlfriend. Never.”

Max laughs, but ignores him. “Are you done, schatje?” 

“Yes, but I was trying to ask someone if they have it in green when… well.”

“Let’s go see, then.” Max gives you a pat on your ass, making you giggle and walk away from the still very shocked guy. 

“Oh,” Charles says, making you and Max turn around to see what’s happening. He’s a few feet away from the stranger, walking in your direction but looking at the man standing right where you left him. “Think about changing your perfume too. You stink.”

[doumadono]

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

Officer!Bakugo is a seriously scary motherfucker - he's really tall and big, and he gives off an intimidating vibe. I mean, he gets annoyed over the tiniest stuff

Officer!Bakugo is a stereotypical “bad cop” type - tough, no-nonsense, and not afraid to bend the rules

If Bakugo slams his fist on the table during an interrogation, you can bet you'll spill all your secrets, whether you like it or not, thanks to those intense crimson eyes boring into your soul

Officer!Bakugo owns a big K9 dog named Blast. The massive belgian malinois is super intimidating - nobody dares to move when the dog is around, showing off its long fangs. The dog pays close attention to whatever Katsuki commands

Bakugo often goes undercover to bust drug rings. His intense look, paired with his scarred face and that maniac grin, makes him appear like someone who tasted cocaine or any other heavy drug for breakfast

When Bakugo raises his voice, it makes both kids and adults cry

Officer!Bakugo harbors a cache of dark secrets, ranging from covering up crimes to manipulating evidence. He becomes adept at concealing his corrupt actions behind a facade of a dedicated officer

Bakugo really likes wearing the uniform because it makes his ass, chest, and shoulders look awesome

Officer!Bakugo drives his cop car like crazy, but he's super skilled at it - when he's chasing someone, he always catches them

Can and will swiftly pin anyone down in just 1 second flat (he's used this move on his one-night stands numerous times)

One of the corrupt things officer!Bakugo does is take it easy on the cute girls (basically all the girls he finds attractive) when they come to his office to report a crime or seek help

He's definitely used handcuffs on a few girls in his career

Sex in his office is a must, but his police car is also on the list

Bakugo's preferred position is doggy style - he just loves the feeling of being in total control and able to thrust as hard and fast as he pleases while spanking the ass of his lover, like when he apprehended you for exceeding the speed limit, and due to your earnest pleas and appeals, he opted to fuck your little, sweet-scented cunt rather than revoke your driving license. You found yourself pinned down to the backseat of his car, your ass raised up as Bakugo fucked your cunt mercilessly from behind, spanking your ass every now and then. The vehicle was swaying with each forceful thrust as he assaulted your drenched pussy, growling like an animal. "Just like that, you little whore. Look at you, taking my cock so well. Dripping wet just f'me like a good slut you are."

Officer!Bakugo has a kink for public sex. There is something thrilling about the danger of being caught, the thought of someone stumbling upon you in the act only added to the excitement, especially when you're bent over, sucking his dick while he's smoking a blunt in his police car, guiding your head more towards his pelvis, and the only thing you can do is to choke on his fat cock as its tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly

Officer!Bakugo has a particular fondness for dominating his girls, both physically and mentally. He enjoys the thrill of manipulating them into submission, leaving them begging for more and being on his mercy

Officer!Bakugo quickly gets turned on when a girl pleads for mercy with doe eyes; also, he really likes skimpy skirts that hardly cover her ass

Officer!Bakugo enjoys night patrols the most because there's a better chance of catching criminals and tormenting them. Plus, Katsuki can smoothly hand out fines to loud tipsy ladies leaving the clubs, and he even doesn't hide that he's checking them out

Officer!Bakugo who has a preference for younger girls (Katsuki is in his mid-30s, but he won't hesitate to flirt with someone barely over twenty-year-old)

[chukys-mouthguard]

#2 fluff/angst for quinn hughes pls !! love ur writing !!! 🖤

Prompt: “Your last emergency call was you crying over not having any more sweets at your place, so excuse me for being distrustful.”

Note: Quinn just gives me the vibes of being someone that gets overly annoyed with your “emergency texts” to the point that he ignores you any time you say it’s an emergency figuring you’re being dramatic 😂

Thank you so much! 🫶🏼 I’m so happy to hear you enjoy my writing, hopefully you love this!

“Quintin, fucking, Hughes!” 

You yelled out into your boyfriend’s apartment as you slammed the door. Tossing your bag onto the kitchen counter as you removed your shoes. 

Soon he’d appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he headed down the hall in your direction. 

“Oh you think it’s funny?” 

“Honestly, no, because now my floors are wet. Are you cleaning that up?” 

Quinn crossed his arms across his chest as he looked you up and down. Eyeing your soaking wet frame that was dripping all over the entryway of his apartment. You’d been on your way to Quinn’s place when your car broke down about 5 minutes away. Naturally you called your boyfriend to come and pick you up, but he didn’t answer. 

Figuring he maybe had fallen asleep or was in the shower, and it was only a 10-15 walk, you took your chances. However, you’d instantly regretted that 5 minutes in when it started to downpour. Of course trying to call Quinn again, but no answer. 

“Quinn, my fucking car broke down and you left me to walk in the pouring rain! That’s kind of an emergency situation. Why didn’t you answer? I even texted you! Clearly you were awake, you just ignored me?”

He rolled his eyes as he went to grab a towel for the floor. 

“I saw your text saying it was an emergency, but your last emergency call was you crying over not having any more sweets at your place, so excuse me for being distrustful.”

He tossed the towels onto the floor as he began cleaning up the water that pooled at your feet. A sigh leaving his lips as you were shocked that he actually seemed upset with you. 

“Oh yeah, because a text saying car broken down, pouring rain, can you come get me please, is definitely not an indication that this is more of a fucking emergency then me not having sweets at my place during my period Quinn!” 

He picked up the towels with a laugh as he shook his head, “have you been around you on your period? It’s literally world war three if you run out of sweets.” 

Ignoring Quinn and his disgruntled attitude, you headed to the bathroom to shower. Quinn returning back to his room, rejoining the video games he’d been playing all night with his brothers. 

He listened for the sound of the shower to cease to know you were done. Figuring he should be kind enough to take you some clothes, considering he did ignore you and force you to walk in the pouring rain. 

Softly knocking on the door, Quinn held out a shirt and some shorts for you, flashing an apologetic smile as you thanked him and closed the door. 

Despite your frustrations with Quinn, you couldn’t stay mad at him. It was only rain, thank god it wasn’t snow. Sure he probably could’ve stopped playing video games for the 10 minutes it would’ve taken him to come and get you, but it wasn’t worth you two arguing over or going to be upset. 

Joining him in his bedroom, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Watching as he finished up his game, before turning things off for the night. 

He relaxed in your arms as he sighed, “I’m sorry…I should’ve picked up. I just, you cry wolf a lot so I figured you were joking around.” 

His hand taking yours as he pulled you into his lap, kissing your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. Trying to show his sincerity as best as Quinn could. Feeling bad for getting upset with you when he was in the wrong. 

“I get it, I often make up stories or exaggerate. But I mean…did you not hear the storms outside? I obviously didn’t lie about that.” You both laughed as he covered his face in embarrassment. 

“Babe, with these headphones on and Jack and Luke screaming half the time, a murderer could come in here and I’m not hearing shit.” 

You rolled your eyes as you kissed his lips, letting him know you weren’t upset. The situation easily being one to get over. 

“Well, ignore me next time I have an emergency and I might just be that murderer who comes to kill you while you’ve got those things on!” 

“Oh trust me, I’m never ignoring a single text or call from you ever again after tonight!” 

[dlartistanon]

Shining and Nightingale: Connection, Plot Beats, and How Their Story Makes (Even) More Sense If You Read It As Romantic

Introduction

Belonging to the Followers faction, Shining and Nightingale were among the first 6* operators introduced at launch. With damage mitigation as their niche, Shining is a single-target medic who specializes in reducing incoming physical damage, while Nightingale is an AoE medic whose specialty lies in reducing incoming Arts damage. This post will delve into everything we know about them and how it's so gay, oh my god

Design Analysis

Upon first glance, you notice how they compare and contrast each other visually: Shining is dressed mostly in black, Nightingale in white. Shining has long, thin white horns that gently jut outwards, while Nightingale has thick, black horns that fold inwards. Shining keeps her hood on by default, giving her a mysterious and secretive appearance. She has dark brown eyes, Liz has light blue ones. Shining’s outfit is tattered and ragged, really giving off the vibe of a wanderer (a “roaming doctor”, as she puts it), in stark contrast to Nightingale’s clean and put-together attire. If you squint, Shining almost looks like a harbinger of death, whereas Nightingale is angelic. Both of them wear the insignia of the Followers, a Terran version of the Caduceus. Shining wears it on a necklace (and is the actual leader), while Nightingale has it etched onto her clothes. One of the black straps on Nightingale’s outfit also reads “The path to light is dark”.

The predominant colors in both their respective skins are the complementary blue and orange. Just as black and white are opposed, so is the contrast between blue and orange. Within Shining's Silent Night, there are flickers of red-orange accents in the form of crystals, while in Nightingale's Elegy, there is the vibrant blue of her bluebird and its wings/feather. Despite Shining’s skin being a summer/beach outfit, the overall atmosphere is foreboding, given the moonlit background, presence of crows/ravens, and color choices. The backdrop in Nightingale’s is very characteristic of Gothic settings.

The strongest theme tying both their designs (and stories) together is The Gothic, an atmosphere and aesthetic best exemplified and symbolized by moody, somber colors (often black) and the gnarled, twisted branches of dead trees found in both their designs, as well as pertinent cast. (We will discuss more on their narrative ties to The Gothic)

Nightingale is featured (alongside Myrrh) in the song “Spring’s Pulse”, while Shining’s song is called “Winter Absolution”. Spring and Winter are opposing seasons, different times in which life either flourishes or hibernates. Green and red (as well as blue and red) are contrasting colors, highlighting life and death. As well as white and black, often symbolic of purity and sin.

Additionally, one of the Latin verses in Shining's song translates to:

"Sing, my tongue, redemption. Of my flesh, the mystery sing. Of the blood, all price exceeding. Shed by my immortal being. Destined for the world's redemption. From a noble womb to spring."

Profiles/Voice Lines

For the longest time, the most we could gather from their past was that Nightingale was a victim, a prisoner, forced to heal others while captive and that Shining had rescued her before they came to Rhodes Island. She has a host of ailments that mere Oripathy can't be the sole cause for, including amnesia. Through other clues, we eventually learn that Shining had a connection to someone called "Confessarius" ("Confessarii" when referring to a group), something she is noticeably evasive and uncomfortable about.

Later, the mystery slowly began to unravel as many theorized that Shining herself was involved with Nightingale's imprisonment, evidenced by Liz drawing the similarities between Shining and her captors. A shared past dripping with intrigue.

It was these seeds that provided a tantalizing story of atonement, of redemption, from someone who had committed a terrible transgression against another, complacent in her pain and suffering, whom she eventually grew to care about--so much so that Shining decided to sever all ties to her former compatriots, slaughtering many and freeing Nightingale, running away together. Shining, disgusted with her actions, spending the rest of her life atoning for her sins, of which she feels she can never be forgiven for.

The juxtaposition of Shining, unyielding with her sword, covered in the blood of her once-fellow Confessarii, and her being exceedingly gentle with Nightingale as she leads her to someplace safe, away from that room, her captors, that tower, where they (she) can’t hurt Liz ever again. The fanon that Shining was complicit in what made Nightingale the way she is, and that she is currently atoning for those sins, was largely embraced by fans.

Nightingale’s Operator Record #1 - A Song and a Blue Feather

The Op Rec is a good showcase of the Followers dynamic (with Liz as the Lady and her two knights), but it also serves to show more of Liz's personality. We only get a very baseline interpretation of who she is as a person via her official file, but seeing her interact with Nearl and Shining gives us a clearer picture of just how strong-willed she is. She goes against Shining's warnings in order to soothe the pain of an Infected child, particularly because his father was inadvertently exacerbating his condition through what Liz calls "a cage of love" (foreshadowing?).

Throughout, we learn more about Liz's Arts, specifically that they give her empathic qualities and come with the drawback of shortening her lifespan every time she heals. The game-breaking ability to reverse Oripathy symptoms comes with equivalent exchange. Liz takes on the pain of others in order to make them feel better.

Near the end of the record, Liz asks if Shining is mad and to not blame Nearl for helping her. Shining's original call to avoid the town was born out of being concerned with Liz's health, but she admits that she should've respected Liz's decision. This is a stance that we then see get repeated in their future appearances in both side stories and the main plot--Shining prioritizing giving Liz agency, when she previously had none. Even when it results in Liz's condition worsening, something that Shining struggles with accepting at the same time, communicated through her asking Liz if her feeling more pain was necessary.

Nightingale’s Module #1 - Closed Hope

The module basically states outright that Nightingale views herself as a burden for having to rely on Shining and Nearl to help her navigate through life. This is another example of Liz's strong-willed personality peeking through.

"But for me, results speak loudest. Because I endured a little more pain, others can be born anew. This is very good. But… if I could be like ordinary people, without this physical pain, that spark of hope in my heart would surely shine a little bit brighter. Unfortunately, as I am now, I can only rely on others to survive. Like a light crystal in a lantern. Even if the lantern door is open, even if the light can bring warmth to others, the crystal itself is still fixed inside. It is fixed there, because it has no ability to move on its own. 'Nightingale, Nightingale––' I hope that one day, I will also be able to spread my wings and fly… just like the bird next to me. 'Nightingale, wake up already––' Until then, I must impose upon them yet more to take care of me.

...

'What's the matter, Shining?'"

In her Op Rec, she had even told Shining that if her legs had cooperated with her, she would not have asked Nearl for help, and that she would've gone out to heal that boy on her own. It's letting us know that she longs to be independent, and that she can't idly sit by as a passive observer when she has the ability to help others. Liz won't even let her own disabilities stop her from doing what she wants.

It's not a coincidence how Shining's presence in her module is represented by the analogy Liz uses to describe her predicament. Shining rescued her = the cage door is open. However, the crystal itself can't move = Liz's debilitating condition. Shining played her part in putting Liz in the cage to begin with. Shining is not only her savior, caretaker, and companion, there's a darker undercurrent as well.

Near Light

In Maria Nearl, Nightingale and Shining get a brief mention and cameo around the time Nearl crashes into the Major stadium. A connection can be made with Liz's Op Rec in which we evidently see that she and Nearl have a more physical (and arguably openly affectionate) dynamic compared to Liz and Shining. Before Nearl leaves to help her sister, we a get a brief look into her and Liz's parting conversation, in which Nearl assures Liz that she'll be okay and that Liz still has Shining with her.

In Near Light, where they get more screentime, we have the iconic Nearl and Nightingale slow dance underneath the streetlights. In the CG itself, Shining can be seen hanging back, sporting a smile. She calls Liz beautiful unprompted, which results in Liz getting a little bit flustered, already so from dancing with Nearl.

Beyond these instances fleshing out the NearLiz leg of the triangle, it's also a purposeful depiction of Shining intentionally distancing herself from Liz, presumably due to her guilt for her past actions. And how that can be extrapolated into Shining feeling as though she is unworthy to partake in that same kind of intimacy. This self-loathing mentality is once more reflected in Nearl the Radiant Knight's second Module--here's a rough translation:

"I suddenly felt a little regretful - after all, I have always hated my bloodline. I have never tasted the beauty of home and the meaning of family. She deserved to have it all, deserved to be noticed and blessed and I deserved not to be a part of it."

However, at the end of Near Light, we get the scene where Shining makes a decision to go back to Londinium with Nightingale, preparing us for their subplot with Confessarius. This exchange hangs over them like a cloud, as well as further cementing Shining's firm resolve to always remain by Liz's side, no matter her own misgivings about everything else. Even if the rest of the world is muddled in her eyes, the only thing that stays clear and in view, is Nightingale. Nothing else matters more.

Chapter 10-18

The depth of Shining’s feelings for Nightingale is truly something to take note of. "My place is always at your side" is practically a textbook subtextual/indirect confession. "I will always be at your side... for as long as you’ll have me." Because we must know that Liz has a choice. She will not impose her own wants onto Liz. Should the day arrive where Liz no longer wants her, Shining will honor it, as much as it hurts.

The way Shining navigates and conducts her feelings towards Liz in this manner is very reminiscent of the medieval concept of courtly love, which is essentially a kind of romantic love without ever imagining it to go any further. The lack of consummation is not only expected, but ideal. That the love existing in and of itself is satisfying.

The scenes where we see Shining holding back help supplement this reading. It also plays well into how the Followers are basically the "knight in shining armor" idea codified into three individuals with corresponding dynamics. For bonus points, courtly love has ties to spirituality, which coincides with another aspect of Shiningale's story with identity, fate, and their conflict with Confessarius.

The fact that Shining 's most immediate plans for the future all have to do with Nightingale is only the tip of her unending devotion. "I’ll stay with you, and go wherever you want to go, as long as you want me". And for Liz to quickly ask if Shining will come with her wherever she wants to go suggests that the love is reciprocated.

Chapter 11-10

Through a series of revelations, we discover that the current head of the Confessarii is Shining's father, who is possessing the body of her younger brother. And that Nightingale was an experimental subject whose physical body is a construct, making her the equivalent of an artificial human/homunculus.

The whole scene we see just how both Confessarius and Salus view Shining, Nightingale, and their relationship. As randmsapphic puts it, the method in which they talk about Liz as an object with a purpose and that Shining's attachment to her is nothing short of a phase speaks volumes as to how dismissive and strangely self-assured that Shining will come to her senses and do the right/rational thing and bring Liz back to help her. They entertain the notion of saving Liz by way of pushing Shining to return to them, because they are the only ones who can save her. Instead of immediately resorting to threats, they rely on manipulation, pulling the "family" card, preying on and weaponizing Shining's guilt and desire to help Liz. It's not subtle--this dynamic could very easily be seen as the reactions homophobic relatives would have.

In particular, Confessarius's fixation on bloodline purity is insanely creepy and not only comes off as very homophobic, but ableist as well. Him suggesting they can build Liz a new body is coercion to get Shining to obey him (which also implies that he thinks Shining's attraction to Liz is purely physical). Salus emotionally abusing Shining by saying that all of Liz's pain is Shining's fault. Attempting to shame Shining by claiming she abandoned her family for a stranger. Does it not have the vibes of homophobia saying that Shiningale's love/relationship isn't real and will never work?

Chapter 12-10

The way Shining utterly ties her sense of self-worth to Nightingale, literally describing herself as Liz’s sin… she will not refer to Liz with possessive pronouns, but will do it to herself for her. The longing, the guilt, the resolve, the codependency… is incredibly yuri. Back in Chapter 10, Shining has an exchange with the Nachzehrer King where she says the moment she was born, she had carried sin. After the dinner in Chapter 11, she tells a Confessarius soldier (before cutting him down) that she hates herself most of all.

Of all the ways to describe her relationship with Liz, Shining decides on "I am her sin". There is poetry in how she refrains from using any kind of possessive language about Liz. Shining belongs to Liz, but Liz belongs to no one. "I am hers, and she is everything to me". It goes back to how she somewhat keeps her distance despite the overwhelming devotion. "I cannot touch her with these sinful hands".

Shining truly exemplifies devotion. Whoever was responsible for writing Shining’s dialogue is pulling out all sorts of stops to have her express her love for Liz in every way without outright making her say the words "I love Liz".

Chapter 13-9 (unfortunately tumblr has an image limit so i can't cap the entire subchapter; you really should read it yourselves for that delicious Shiningale goodness)

Kal'tsit: The way you look at Nightingale isn't just with compassion. You're not just her doctor—she's healing your fears too. Her body has its issues, but she's a member of the 'Followers', as well as your companion, and not a delicate flower that needs your protection.

Nightingale: I'm fine, Shining. You don't have to look after me so meticulously.

More examples of Liz's strong character! A dynamic becomes even more interesting when the one you thought was less-dependent turns out to desperately need the other. By this point, you should know that Shining places Nightingale incredibly high up her list of priorities. The narrative makes it no secret. They continue to hammer home that, despite being her caretaker, just how much Shining is dependent on Liz. Liz has already internally talked about how she hates having to rely on Shining and Nearl because of her ailments. In her other appearances, she makes it even more apparent with her dialogue. While Shining mends Liz’s aching body, Liz is the one who soothes Shining’s hurting heart.

Confessarius: Poor 'Liz'. She think it's all her fault, because of the momentary kindness you showed her.

When you remember that Liz's Arts make her empathic to pain, it takes on another layer of meaning when she wants to take away Shining's suffering. It's reasonable to assume that Liz also had an attachment to Shining, even if you see it as such because Shining "brought her to life". But the vibe you get from her dialogue shows a strong affection and compassion for Shining. Arguably instinctive, considering the "nature" of who Liz originally was. A wandering spirit, a memory, a soul that was drawn to Shining because she felt her crushing pain and wanted to help her. An intangible presence given life by an achingly lonely and hurt individual.

Another post by randmsapphic suggests that Liz's "childhood memories" of her and Shining were in fact fabrications that Shining had imposed onto Liz, in some desperate attempt to have a connection with another person, which this scene confirms. Shining was so happy with Liz's creation that she quickly became attached to her. Is this a sort of twisted love/affection that was born out of Shining's self-loathing? Or her being born into a very dark and messed up lineage in which her fate is a doomed one, and so she latched onto Liz as a means of escape and a way to feel close to someone? It may have started off as such, but by the time we reach this point, the love grew to be genuine.

Remember in Liz's Op Rec, where she described the father hurting his son by keeping him in a cage of love?

The bluebird losing its strength the farther it travels away from home is a metaphor and reflection for how the Confessarii treat Liz, their experiment. This is the basis for her captivity. Combined with Shining's sudden shift into a cold demeanor when she had previously been warm to Liz, this only served to psychologically and emotionally damage Liz, as well as compound Shining's guilt for having continued to follow the wishes of her family.

At some point, prior to deserting, Shining had wiped Liz's memories, perhaps out of said guilty conscious, or a means to a fresh start, or even her own way to stop Liz from feeling any pain associated with those memories, but she was still afraid of what would happen should Liz recover them, which had been happening little by little. Shining had resigned herself to believing that Liz would hate her, would want nothing to do with her, if she ever found out the truth. She had to wrestle with the very real possibility that attempting to save Liz could mean losing her, or being separated from her. Shining never once saw Nightingale as a burden; she was only ever happy that Liz exists.

Credit to randmsapphic again: Every time Shining draws her sword, it's a viscerally unpleasant reminder of her eventual destiny. It's both the only way to truly free Liz, and is the bind that keeps her shackled to a doomed fate. When Confessarius offers her the sadistic choice between killing him (thus giving up her soul) or return Liz to captivity... what should she do? There is no choice here.

The way Confessarius keeps (creepily) phrasing it as Shining “giving birth” really does paint him to be a disgustingly vile patriarchal figure set on destroying not only Shining’s autonomy, but her life and relationship with Liz. How a woman is treated as an object, her worth limited to only serving as a breeding ground for the next generation. This read continues to make even more sense because remember the Confessarii dinner scene? The way they talked like they expect Shining to come home after having had her fun with Nightingale reeks of how society views lesbian relationships as not real/practice for men/just a phase. The proverbial Class S? Shiningale really is just Arknights-flavored Class S Yuri. If a Shining Alter has her pick up her sword again, it could very well symbolize her reclaiming her bodily autonomy and fighting for her love, and for the chance to have a life outside of what the patriarch(y) wants for her.

The more I read about the Shiningale in Chapter 13, the more I’m thinking that this can’t be anything else but yuri. Even the role Confessarius is playing as a villain/obstacle they have to overcome. A man getting between them by manipulating their feelings for nefarious purposes?

Liz telling Shining that she prefers her current name, how it encapsulates so much of who Shining is as a person; she's not just a means to an end for the Confessarii, she's more than what they've instilled in her since her birth. The Followers are all light-themed, and Shining is no exception. She broke Liz out of her cage and showed her the world. And Liz is the light of Shining's life, as was mentioned all the way back to her voiceline.

Liz telling Shining that she's always loved the name that she gave her... that she holds dear any and every part of Shining that's a part of her. Her gently chastising Shining for making the decision to sacrifice herself to save Liz... Don't give yourself up for me, especially without asking me. That's not what I want. For all the times that Shining made sure Liz knew she had a choice, this was the one time she didn't. Couldn't. And Liz won't have that. Whatever trials that await them, she wants to face them together with Shining.

The way Confessarius described Shining’s feelings towards Nightingale as “your rebellious love for her”. He knew that she would love Liz and factored that into his plan/manipulation of Shining. I don't know about you but… I don’t think there’s any other way to interpret that. No heterosexual explanation.

Realistically speaking, we know actual gay characters can’t make it past the censors unless it’s tragic (see Scavenger) or unrequited (see Tomimi). But Shiningale have like… playable immunity. It’s “implicit” enough to not trigger the censors but at the same time how can you not see it as romantic?

Their relationship is basically up there with Talulah/Alina. And I'd even go so far as to say that it's more explicit than Talulah/Alina. To my knowledge, they never used the word “love” to describe how Talulah felt about Alina. Just "friend". I know there's a point where subtext gets ridiculous enough to become maintext, but then that leads you to question why some get the "friends" label while others are allowed to use "love".

Could it be platonic love? Sure, of course you can love your friends. But would you pledge your entire life to a friend? What's so "rebellious" about loving a friend? (Interestingly, I think the JP translation calls it "immoral love", which is even more eyebrow-raising) Regardless, love exists between Shiningale. Confessarius knew it, and factored it into his schemes. He counted on Shining to love and cherish her. Shining loves Liz, that much is undeniable. And Liz loves her back, enough to stop Shining from sacrificing herself to save her. He's literally weaponizing the love they have for each other.

Shiningale and The Gothic

I had mentioned before that both characters' designs as well as the narrative beats of their story have Gothic literature elements. I want to make a list of the ones I could find that relate to them as characters and as a narrative:

A focus on medical conditions, doppelgangers (the "pure" Confessarii looking like each other), forbidden power/knowledge, the dichotomy between light and darkness, imprisonment, rebellion, isolation/seclusion, gloominess or a gloomy setting, the grotesque/macabre, terror/horror, justice vs revenge, good vs evil, fear and suspense, the supernatural/paranormal, female victims, prophecies/curses/omens, mystery and secrets, involvement of the clergy/religious figures (confessor/absolver of sin), the dead don’t stay dead/hauntings, romanticism

The Gothic hero is “weakened by love”, they either rescue their love interest or pine away in despair

Significance of blood (relations) and inheritance, the duality of giving and denying life

An examination of family structure, patriarchy, hereditary suffering

Dreams/nightmares, memories

Secrets, past sins, sins of the father, darkest deeds

Driven by love, duality of man (appearance)

Dwelling on the melancholy, of wistfulness and regret, but not overcoming kindness

Concept of “othering” from society (Shining split herself away from her blood family to be herself and with Liz, her chosen family

The protagonist’s passionate love is torn between his desire to achieve the beloved and the family’s disapproval, control, and choice. Gothic novels also tell the tales of love in vain. The lovers are parted due to the conspiracies of the people opposing them being together

Gothic sexuality is usually somewhat repressed—women are expected to be pure and somewhat helpless while men are expected to be quietly predatory. It's also patriarchal, with men making moves and women reacting to them

Homosexuality = the love that dares not speak its name. Repressed sexuality, forbidden desire

Female Gothic protagonists are often committed to justice, unwilling to compromise their values, loyal, respectful of others, curious, intelligent and devoted to their faith. Some are gentle, kind, likeable, clever, witty, quiet, supportive, thoughtful, hard-working, independent and strong. Others are courageous, witty, brave, determined, knowledgeable and socially competent. On the flip side, some are also strong-willed and outspoken to a fault. They’re often socially awkward, depressive, melancholy, brooding, solitary and selfish. Some are jealous, fiercely territorial, deceitful, powerless and deceptive. Others, like their male counterparts, are prone to violence

Male Gothic protagonists are often conflicted, solitary, tortured, brooding, and secretive, self-loathing, wracked with guilt, have a self-hate of their own existence

Female-centric Gothic stories often trend towards obscured/anticipated fears, focuses on persecuted women and the domestic space she risks entrapment within/disturbed spaces

Food for Thought

Ryuzakiichi has a knight original character. Tell me... this doesn’t just look like Shining without horns? THE RESEMBLENCE IS UNCANNY.

Knowing this, I'm convinced that he split the concept of a "knight in shining armor" into two characters: Nearl and Shining. Nearl embodies chivalry. Shining embodies devotion.

The followers dynamic can best be summarized as two knights swearing fealty to one lady, but what's interesting is that while Nearl is the most obvious depiction of a knight, it's actually Shining who serves the role even harder, because she is quite literally Liz's knight. Which tracks with how Shining looks nearly like a carbon copy of his OC. She's the one who rescued the princess from her tower, while simultaneously being the "wicked witch" who put her there in the first place. And just like a Gothic hero, is tormented and sees herself as a monster.

Comparison to the main plot of Shadow of the Colossus. The driving force is that Wander commits acts (largely agreed to be treasonous) in order to revive Mono. The relationship between Wander and Mono is left up to interpretation as to whether it's platonic, familial, or romantic, but most fans of the game seem to theorize that Mono is indeed Wander's love interest.

Normally I despise turning the Followers into a nuclear family unit in any direction (especially people saying Liz is a minor and infantilize her to be the designated "child"), but for a moment, seeing Shiningale looking at Nearl’s portrait, my brain interpreted them behaving like Nearl’s (substitute) parents being proud of her accomplishments.

This was not helped by stuff like Shining’s teasing ("Look at you, our knight acting snarky"), Liz asking if she and Shining were also Nearl’s family, and some apparent discussion about Mlynar being a "bad end" Margaret who lost his own light (his brother and sister-in-law, Margaret’s parents).

If Shining and Nightingale are to Nearl as Schnitz and Yolanta were to Mlynar, then that might also explain why he dropped his jerk behavior for one second just to compliment how the two Sarkaz were good for his niece. If Nearl had never met Shining and Nightingale, her own light might’ve gone out too...?

IN CONCLUSION

Shiningale are complementary in so many ways. It really feels like several aspects of their characters are tailor made to match; you can’t have one without the other, their development is tied together… soulmates. Hopefully this post helps encourage you to consider their story in a certain lens if you hadn't before.

To quote a CN post I saw on the matter after Chapter 13 was released (rough translation): "Shining's sword pieced Nightingale's heart, and Liz came alive. Liz's existence helped give Shining emotions. Liz became Shining's redemption. Shining renounced her old name and Liz cherishes hers, a transformation of two people choosing to fight and change their destiny. Although Liz is physically fragile, her spirit and will are very strong. Although Shining has excellent swordsmanship, her self-hate and inner turmoil weigh her down. They are truly complementary in every sense."

They each want to take away the other's pain. Shining doesn't want Liz to die. Liz doesn't want Shining to die for her. They are each other's mutual salvation.

[morganacorp]

"Everything okay?" Lena asked as she came out of Kara's bathroom, finding Alex and Kara with their arms crossed and worried looks on their faces. As soon as she was in front of them, she saw Alex's face harden and Kara's eyes became accusatory.

"Have you been working with Kryptonite?" Alex asked with a cold voice, the same one Lena knows is reserved for criminals.

"I- what's happening?" She chuckled, confused and feeling exposed. One moment she had been hanging out with Kara, some romantic vibes between them, and then the next moment she was being questioned by the Director of the DEO.

"Answer the question, Lena." Kara said barely above a whisper.

"Have you been working with Kryptonite, Lena?" Alex asked again.

"I have." She frowned and Alex rolled her eyes while Kara looked down. "But it's not-"

"You said you wouldn't make any more kryptonite, Lena. You said you'd let Kara know if you made more." Alex said, obviously angry.

"how do you know I'm-"

"We caught the radiation signature in your apartment." Alex said and Kara simply stood behind her, unable to look at Lena.

"That's impossible, I've been working on it in my lab, and I've taken all the-"

"How could you?" Kara finally broke her silence, looking up at her with that self righteous disappointment that was so typical of Supergirl.

"Kara, I'd never do anything to hurt you-" Lena frowned.

"You made kryptonite again." Kara said with bitterness, a heavy tear dripping down her cheek.

"And you just jump to the conclusion that it was to hurt you." Lena scoffed, a bitter smile on her face. "I'm a Luthor, right? You've never trusted me and never will." She whispered and walked to get her coat before her own tears made an appearance.

"You can't leave. Where are you going?" Alex said with an authoritarian voice.

"You're welcome to arrest me if that's what you think you should do, Director Danvers." Lena said simply, walking out the door of Kara's apartment.

Years of effort pulling her walls down gone in an instant, all of her alarms and protections coming back to wrap her heart in barbwire to protect it, even if it was already bleeding.

"Director Danvers." A DEO agent told Alex, bringing a heavy looking briefcase to her while she worked with Brainy and Kara in her lab. "A messenger brought this for you, it's from Miss Luthor."

"Did Lena bring it?" Alex asked worriedly, looking over at her sister.

"No, ma'am."

"Thank you." She said and the agent walked away.

"Can you see inside?" Brainy asked and Kara shook her head.

"It's lined with lead."

"Kara, you should step back in case this is-"

"she wouldn't, Alex."

"You said the same about her making kryptonite." She mumbled and moved the briefcase away from Kara. She opened it slowly and looked at the contents confused.

"What's in there?" Kara asked curiously.

"it's-"

"it's brilliant." Brainy said, grabbing the tiny red box that wasn't bigger than a bar of soap and looking at it curiously.

"What is it?" Kara asked and walked closer to inspect the artifact too.

"It's- Lena has perfected the nano suit I created for you by teaching the nano technology how to filter Kryptonite. This should be sufficient in case of mild exposure." Brainy smiled, fascinated by Lena's work. "This is basically her combining the armor suit with the one we made, making it the best of both worlds, so to speak."

"Oh..." Kara sighed.

"Oh... Shit." Alex whispered sadly, watching something on the computer.

"what is that?"

"her lab logs." She said sadly, showing her the screen.

"Lab Log for a personal project. Video for my personal reference only, and for DEO registration as Kryptonite will be used. Day 1 on the project to develop filtering nanotechnology for Supergirl. I will create a suit that will keep Supergirl safe from kryptonite exposure, eliminating the limited mobility on the armor suit." Lena's voice said and the camera footage showed her arranging different kinds of chemicals and other stuff she'd need. "Step one will be creating supercharged kryptonite to ensure the maximum protection of the suit. A safe decontamination protocol has been established in case of emergency." Lena explained and started the process.

"This is dated... This was the week after you were attacked by kryptonite at the museum."

"She wanted to protect me." Kara whispered, feeling her heart breaking in her chest. She had been caught by surprise and barely made it out alive thanks to J'onn and Nia, but she had to spend two days under the sun lamps to recover from the horrible beating she took. Lena stayed by her side every minute.

"What's in that box, Alex?" Brainy asked and pointed at the larger box in the briefcase.

"The kryptonite Lena made... It's a lead box." She said, swallowing hard.

"I have to fix this." Kara shook her head and flew out of the DEO as fast as she could, making her way straight to LCorp.

Lena was sitting on her white couch, looking defeated and exhausted with a drink in her hand. She didn't notice Kara at first, but when she did her face hardened, becoming a perfect angry mask made of marble to protect her.

"Lena."

"Please leave." She said with a cold voice loaded with emotion.

"We need to-"

"I'm moving back to Metropolis." She said coldly. "I made a mistake by moving here. The first of many mistakes, in fact." She said bitterly. "I will send all the devices and prototypes I've created for Supergirl and the rest of your super friends to the DEO for you to dispose of them accordingly. You'll realize that some of them are finished and others aren't, but what you do with the technology is up to you." She said and Kara stepped closer.

"Lena, let me talk to you-"

"There's nothing to talk about, Kara. You have never trusted me, and it's obvious that the shadow of my name and my brother will always be present between us. I can save the world by your side ten times, and yet there will always be a black stain on the white sheet: my family." She rationalized, walking to pour herself another drink.

"I trust you with my life, Lena. You know it."

"As soon as you learned about the kryptonite you assumed I wanted to hurt you." She scoffed. "That's not trust, it's the opposite." She said looking coldly into her eyes. "I'll always wake that sentiment of suspicion on you, Kara. It will always be there with you and your sister, and even your friends-"

"they're your friends too! They're-"

"they have always been your friends. I was just one more who got to tag along." She said and cursed herself for allowing a tear to escape.

"Lena, you know I love-" Kara whispered, stepping close to Lena and wiping the tear away with her thumb.

"don't you dare finish that." Lena warned her coldly with a quivering lip, the raw hurt in her voice making Kara realize how badly she hurt her. "Please go and stop hurting me." She whispered. "I'll disappear from your life and everything will go back to normal." She said, full on crying now. Kara always knew how to unlock her emotions.

"I don't want you to disappear from my life." She sighed, cupping Lena's face like it was a fragile thing. "You are my life."

"Miss Luthor, the helicopter is ready to take you to the airport." Lena's assistant said from the door, a little shocked to find Supergirl wiping her boss' tears.

"I have to go." Lena said, closing her eyes for two seconds to enjoy the warmth that Kara's hands brought to her face, the same warmth she brought to her life.

"Stay." Kara asked her softly. "Stay with me."

"Goodbye, Kara." She whispered and walked way using every ounce of strength in her body. She sobbed in the elevator ride and tried to look put together enough while getting on the helicopter, ignoring the red cape waving in the wind while Kara watched the love of her life leave her behind.

[charliehoennam]

beyond the badge pt. 1

a/n: request made by @harmonity-vibes. had been thinking about this specific plot for a long time and this lovely angel gave me the inspiration i needed. this will divided into three parts because it's simply too big lmao that's what she said. s/o to @strangergraphics-archive for the cute divider <3

pairing: david loki x f!reader

summary: his fianceé is abducted and a distraught david realizes some rules must be broken in order to save the one he loves.

warnings: 18+, dark themes such as language, violence, eventual smut, suicide, death, physical injuries, threats, abuse of power and blood.

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

two | three | four | five

What was once a home filled with love, laughter and passionate moans is now hollow and empty.

The haunting silence of the house only fuels his self-hatred. He can’t stop blaming himself because he knows, deep inside, that he could’ve avoided all this mess if he had only listened to you.

When a dead body showed up in the river by the old mill, David was quickly assigned the case. It might have taken him a couple of months, but he successfully found the man responsible for a such a horrendous crime.

The man was Frankie Donovan, a bus driver and self-made drug dealer. You would’ve never guessed by simply looking at the man, due to his scruffy appearance and uneducated demeanor, but he had successfully made around 500 thousand dollars from producing and selling meth.

It might not have been much to some people, but to a man who grew on the country skirts of Conyers, bouncing around from trailer park to trailer park and addict parents, that money was more precious to him than his own life.

No one would’ve believed that Donovan was capable of making so much money. Most people underestimated him either because of his job, his poor background or, what appeared to seem like, his friendly nature. He might have fooled many, but not David.

In the empty house that belongs to both of you, David stands in front of the foggy bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped his hip.

He stares at his stoic reflection and takes in the physical effects your absence has had on him. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Hollowed cheeks from the loss of appetite. The prickly 5 o’clock shadow growing out that he refuses to waste time shaving.

The lingering heat from his hot shower constricts the air around him. He leans down to splash some cold water on his face, hoping that it will provide just a little bit of relief. Although the water soothes him on the surface, it fails to subdue him within.

He runs a trembling hand over his face to try and keep his composure, but he’s losing it. His breath shortens as the room spins around him. What feels like rocks settle in his throat. His chest tightens with rage until he finally explodes and punches the mirror before him repeatedly.

“It’s your fucking fault!” he repeatedly shouts at himself.

Dangerous shards shatter into the sink and onto the counter. David doesn’t feel it just yet, but blood drips from his knuckles over the shards. He takes a look at his hand. His fit of fury let out a bit of the steam that he had pent up inside him, but it’s not enough to make him better.

Nothing will make him feel better until you’re home, safe and sound. He promised he would always keep you safe and he feels like he failed you. There's nothing that can silence that thought in his mind.

Once he’s poorly rinsed and wrapped his knuckles with gauze to stop the bleeding, he drags himself into the bedroom that lingers with the scent of you and haphazardly chooses a few items of clothing. He doesn’t bother with the usual button-up shirt. A simple black thermal, a pair of pants and usual boxers. He tries to get dressed as fast as he can.

David hates being in the house for too long, but he tries to avoid the bedroom as much as he can. Not only does everything there remind him of you, but it’s all still the same as you left it before you went to work that day and he wants to keep it that way.

The uncertainty of the future fucking terrifies him. He doesn’t know if you’re alive, he doesn’t know if you’re hurt. His colleagues are doing their best to find you, but the fear he secretly has of you not coming home is ever present. So, he keeps the bedroom the way you left it to create a false sensation that you’re somehow still there almost like a ghost.  Like you're still coming home, even though he's not sure you will.

It’s been almost two days since you’ve been missing. The captain made it very clear to David that he could not, under any circumstances, take the case due to his close relationship to the victim. Being off your case drives him insane, but it’s not enough to make him stop looking for you.

He might not be able to professionally investigate, but it doesn't stop him from questioning the local thugs in the neighborhood about the recent kidnapping. After coming to a dead-end last night, he spent the rest of the night driving aimlessly, hoping he might find you somewhere.

He came home for a quick shower before resuming his illegal search for you. He’s tired beyond belief, but his mind can’t concentrate on anything else besides his missing fianceé.

Sat on the edge of the bed you used to share, he looks over at the engagement ring still sealed in a plastic baggie on your nightstand and reaches over to hold it in his hands. Letting his head hang low, he lifts his bloodied hand and holds his forehead in it. His head pounds as memories flood his thoughts.

When a call about an abduction came in from a co-worker of yours, David could feel his heart sink down to his stomach. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the thought that you could’ve been the one kidnapped scared him to death.

He is in another town, a more populated, small and neighboring town who’s courthouse Conyers was appointed to. David hadn’t been aware of the newly opened case until he made it back to his car and saw 3 missed calls from his captain.

When he arrives at your workplace’s parking lot, he climbs out of his car so quickly that he doesn’t even remember to close the door to take the keys out of the ignition. It all feels like a dream, like nothing is real, everything around his is far from touch and he’s floating through the air

“Tell me it’s not her,” he begs already fearing the worst as he marches towards the blockade of police officers preserving the scene.

“Loki, I’m sorry, but you can’t be here right now. I can’t let you through.”

O’Malley has to hold him up as David’s knees give in and sits him on the curb. Kneeling in front of him, he instructs David to breathe as the air thickens in his throat.

“I-I gotta find her, captain. I gotta-“

“What you gotta do is let us do our job, Loki. You can’t work on this case and you know why. Tell me what you know.”

The truth, at the time where he can barely remember his own name, is that he doesn’t know who could have taken you. He’d put away so many bad guys already and, just like the Keller-Birch case, kidnapping were becoming more and more often in the small town of Conyers.

David is in no condition to answer most of the questions that his boss needed to ask. At least, not right there.

“David, let’s go back to the station. We can talk better there.”

“No. I’m not fucking leave. I need to be here. I need to find her!” he insists, wide eyes locked on the scene as the forensic investigators search the area.

His watchful eye notices one of the investigators lift something up from the ground after taking pictures of the object. As the woman places the small item into a plastic bad to preserve for DNA or prints, he quickly stands on his feet. Despite the dizziness that strikes him suddenly, he pushes his way through the uniformed cops, but there are too many of them to hold him back from the scene.

“Get the fuck of- Let me go! That’s her ring! That’s my fianceé’s fucking ring!” he shouts at the investigator while being restrained.

She looks at O’Malley who nods and allows her to show David the evidence. Walking towards David, he finally calms down enough and complies in order to make sure it is yours. And, just as he fears, it is indeed yours.

His hands tremble as he looks at the plastic evidence baggie containing your engagement ring. He closes his eyes as dread floods his chest.

The ring is technically evidence and is actually supposed with the forensics team to process, but David stole it from the scene to bring it home with him.

Tears drip against the plastic. He just wants you to come home.

The buzzing cellphone he'd left on your nightstand snaps him back to the present. Quickly wiping his tired blue eyes, he looks over at the phone placed beside his gun and badge. The thought of taking his weapon to his head to end the agonizing pain and guilty flashes in his mind.

Before he finds the courage to reach for the firearm, his gaze drifts and lands on a book you had been reading when you were home and he recalls one specific conversation you had had one night.

“You got a strange call today on the landline.”

You’re sat on the bed with your back against the headboard and a book in hand.

“Yeah? What’d they say?” he asks lying tiredly on the bed beside you.

Lifting your arm to make way for him, he nestles himself into your side with his strong arms locked around your hips while his face nuzzles into your waist with closed tired eyes.

“I dunno. I mean, I do, but it was just strange,” you lower your book, combing the fingers of your free hand into his luscious brown hair. “The guy just said told you to call him back or you’d regret it.”

“Probably just a prank call, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about.”

“But they asked for you. They said your full name and they know you’re a detective. Isn’t that a bit too personal?”

“I’m a cop, babe. That information is public. Anyone can find that out if you know where to look.”

You nod and stay silent as you try to continue reading, but it’s unsettling.

“I’m just saying,” you start as David groans tiredly. “Why would someone call and threaten you? Not to mention you just recently closed the Donovan case.”

Rolling over onto his back, he looks up at you from his side of the bed.

“Babe, Donovan is a small-town meth head. He doesn’t have the balls to come after a cop.”

“It’s just a strong coincidence, David.”

A lightbulb goes in his mind. Finally, a lead he could work on. How the hell didn’t he think about this before?

He shoots up onto his feet to get dressed and, just after he slides his boxer briefs on, his phone buzzes again with another incoming text.

Due to his close relationship with you, O’Malley didn’t allow him to take the lead on the case. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but he knows the close relationship could impair David’s judgment. David’s already known for his temper and the last thing he needs is him risking the case because he didn’t follow procedure.

Instead, Chemelinski’s been assigned as the lead detective on the case. And, influenced by their close friendship, he’s ignored the direct and important order O’Malley had given him of keeping any new information from David.

The way he sees it, David’s a smart detective. If it hadn’t been for the close relationship, the case would’ve been his because he’s the only one that has solved and closed difficult disappearance cases like this.

“Evidence found at Penn Aire Motel, 46th and western. No vics”

“Didn’t hear this from me”

He wastes no time replying to his co-worker’s texts. His heart pounds with hope and adrenaline as his mind races with a thousand thoughts, wondering what kind of evidence they found. Even without a body or blood, assumptions can still be made based on the scene which is why he needs to be there.

Speeding in his car, his stomach churns contemplating what he might find once he’s there. He knows the procedure in case of dead victims. If you were dead, he would’ve already heard about it, so he’s hopeful it’s not the case.

As his car pulls up, O’Malley sighs already feeling the heavy headache setting in of having to deal with a distraught David.

“Who the hell told him?”

Chemelinski shrugs avoiding his accusing eyes, but mutters it wasn’t him as David quickly marches over to the captain, ducking under the yellow ‘do not cross’ tape with curious eyes scanning the scene to understand what’s going on.

“Loki, I told you-“

“I know, I’m off it. I know, I just wanna know what you found.”

David keeps a strong facade with hands up in surrender as O’Malley approaches him.

“You know I can’t share that information with you. You’re involved with the victim and it ca-“

“Yeah, I fucking know it can cloud my judgement! I know!” he shouts back.

O’Malley watches him take a deep breath to compose himself. He understands how stressful this is, especially for a detective.

“Captain, I-I’m losing my fucking mind. Please, j-just tell me something. I-I need something.”

He can’t ignore David’s pleading blue eyes or the crack in his voice. David’s a strong man who’s endured some of the most awful things life could throw at anyone. It takes a lot to scare him to this point.

He informs David that they’d tracked down the car from the location of your kidnapping. After identifying the vehicle with the help of local security surveillance footage, a dispatcher had ID’d it after receiving a call about an abandoned car in a rundown motel parking lot, just off the freeway.

No one saw you at the motel; the clerk working the desk that night said a man checked in alone, but a maid who had been getting off her shift mentioned she saw the man – who was staying in the room in question – putting something in the trunk of a different car before driving away in it alone.

The forensic investigation is still processing the scene, but the unit was able to find a small earring in the truck of the car, which was now in a small plastic bag labeled evidence in O’Malley’s hands.

O’Malley would’ve asked him if the earring was familiar, but the way David froze and stared down at the small accessory with swelling tears in his eyes is enough to confirm his belief.

He’d given you the beautiful jewel on your first anniversary. He remembers how happy you got when you opened the gift and saw the sparking, delicate pair in the small velvet box. His heart broke a little when you mentioned no one had ever given you jewelry before. You loved them so much that you wore them proudly every day to work.

He never thought he’d be the one having to identify a personal item of a victim.

“Y-yeah,” he sniffles blinking away his tears. “That’s hers.”

“We’re gonna find her, Loki. Loki!”

David can’t stand it anymore. The ring found at the site of the kidnapping and the newly discovered earring leads him to believe they weren’t left there on accident. He knows these are items you treasure more than anything and you would never take them off unless you were at home to avoid the risk of losing your precious accessories due to their sentimental value.

They’re breadcrumbs. They’re clues you’re leaving behind, calling out for him to save you. He needs to take matters into his hands.

[koisuko]

Reader with an OF, but she never shows her face, been wondering if the cod boys would be interested in participate if both didn't show their face, no one would know their name, basically no one would know who they were

Tw: mdni, fem reader, sexual content, of is only fans

Ft: Alejandro Vargas, Phillip Graves, König, Rodolfo Parra

Alejandro Vargas…

Would join. People know who he is, so even if he were to show his face, I doubt he would be against it.

The added mystery excites him, being obscured for all eyes except yours. He wants to keep the face to the body reserved for you and you only.

Plus, he likes that no one can see the faces you make. Only he can see how beautiful you look, sweat beading on your forehead while you scream his name for the 5th time in a night.

Phillip Graves…

Is indifferent. He’s taken down terrorists, drug lords, you name it, pictures of his naked body for all to see isn’t something that scares him.

He gives me the vibes that he’s a bit cocky of his appearance. So he actually might like the idea of showing it off, with you as his cowgirl, taking him for a ride.

There will be more pictures of him fucked out than you. It’s supposed to be your OF, but he seems to be the star of the show, and the fan favorite.

König…

Isn’t into it. He’s insecure, and not fond of his appearance. He doesn’t mind if you do it though, as long as some part of you is private to him, your face works just fine.

He’s a private man, and secretive too. Even if no face is shown, he still has defining tattoos and distinct scars that someone could recognize. That in itself makes him paranoid.

He will however, have you choking on his cock behind the camera with the lens faced at your naked body, your fingers between your folds. Just out of frame, your eyes are rolled back and wretched gagging sounds bounce off the walls. His raw pink tip slams the back of your throat, grunts and choked moans fill the room. He’ll let out a guttural roar just as he slaps the tip against your tongue, spurting his seed all over your face. The only part of him your fans will ever see, is his cum dripping down your chin.

Rodolfo Parra…

Is too shy for it. If he agrees, you’d definitely have to ease him into it. He’s a bit shy and reserved over his appearance. He wouldn’t say he’s ugly, no, but he doesn’t see himself being a guy everyone would gawk at.

Honestly, he might like it. I think he would enjoy the attention he’d get from comments and subscribes. He’d be happy that so many people want what they can’t have, and feels lucky to have such a beauty by his side.

He’d prefer the pictures where you ride, or missionary, anything to get a good view of where you two merge as one. He also enjoys watching his cock disappear inside you, and a bulge forms on your lower abdomen. His all time favorite though, is when his face is covered by your pussy, sat all the way down. The picture is from your angle, while his face is buried so deep inside your cunt that you worry he is suffocating.

[ivelle-serenity]

Skateboard 2

Wind breaker

fem bodied reader | smut | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | reverse harem? | all characters featured are 18+

author's note: This is a slow-burn story, but don't worry, it will have smut. I actually want to speed things up so we can have those kinds of scenes. btw, I want my story to have action as well, so yeah.

✧˖° — windbreaker men

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

I had sworn off biking. I refused to touch those pedals again after what happened. That bike wouldn't control my life anymore. It nearly wrecked my grades. That's why I'm in Korea now, to get things back on track. Hoping for a fresh start.

But now, recalling my challenge to those guys, everything flipped. I was mad at myself. None of this would have happened if Wooin had just bought the bike yesterday.

I dropped my skateboard with a sigh, eyeing my bike. I moved away, ready to start skating. I had told Jay in class earlier that we'd meet at the skatepark. He didn't react much, so I took that as a green light.

After landing a slick slide move, I smoothly spun my skateboard. Flip tricks were my jam, the source of my skating joy. But I didn't stop there. I tackled the tallest ramp and smoothly glided down, board stuck to my feet. I leaned, balancing my body for the drop. That move was my specialty, grabs/airs.

I sensed someone watching me. Adjusting my helmet and my curly hair, I grinned when I saw Jay nearby, looking serious by my bike. He held his bike but wasn't riding.

His friends chattered, but he was lost in thought, focused on me. It quickened my pulse, but I didn't let it show.

"You're late," I quipped, skateboard in hand.

"Please don't say you want to race here?!" Dom's dramatic reaction cut in.

I noticed they were with a few girls and a guy. Some of them are my classmates so i'm kinda familiar with their names.

"Why? Nervous?" I teased, removing my helmet.

"But isn't this unfair? Jay's not used to biking in a place like this. You have the upper hand," the girl with pink hair pointed out.

"She's got a point," Dom's friend chimed in. "Plus, who races in a skatepark?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Plenty do," I replied calmly, though a bit irritated. "This is just nothing if you really know how to bike."

My words hung in the air, making everyone pause. All eyes turned to Jay, who had been quietly observing me. He seemed to be deciphering my expression, his own unreadable. Mysterious yet undeniably attractive. I arched an eyebrow at him.

"Ready to race or not?"

He sighed. "I was just waiting for you to finish." His brief but serious response caught me off guard.

A small smirk played on my lips. This is getting interesting. I quickly went to my bike. I wasn't sure if my outfit was race-appropriate since I didn't have any history of serious racing or tournament participation. I was just wearing a cropped long-sleeve cardigan with matching pants.

I glanced at Jay beside me and saw him adjusting his helmet. His expression was serious as he watched the slide-like structure where I had been playing earlier.

"Miss, if Jay wins, can you do my assignment too? Pretty please?" Dom suddenly appeared beside me. I just shook my head before laughing.

"Yeah, sure."

"That girl has the same vibe as Jay. Am I the only one who notices that?" one of Dom's friends remarked. If I recall correctly, his friends had called him Minu earlier, so that might be his name.

"They're both smart. But in biking? I don't think so," the girl with pink hair chimed in irritably.

Glancing at Jay, who was observing me, I couldn't resist teasing him. "Is that your girlfriend? She seems a bit whiny. Is that your type?"

"No, she's not," he replied simply.

"So that's not Shelly?"

He shot me a cold look, as if he didn't appreciate me mentioning his girlfriend's name. That's not my fault! I was just confused because he was with that girl earlier when he arrived. So I assumed she was Shelly. But obviously, judging from Jay's expression, she wasn't his girlfriend.

"Calm down, I was just asking," I chuckled before resting my arms on the handlebars.

"You're so noisy," he said emotionlessly.

I grinned. "Your girlfriend's not here? No moral support from her?"

"Why do you keep asking me about her?" he furrowed his brows. I raised my hands in a playful surrender.

He was cute when he got riled up.

"Just like I said, I was just asking."

"Then stop asking. Let's just get this over with. I still have to study," he replied flatly.

I paused as I remembered that I also needed to study. We had a quiz tomorrow. Jay noticed my reaction, so I avoided his gaze. What does he think? Does he think he's the only one allowed to worry about his studies? But that's the same reason I'm here in Korea.

"You're right. I still need to review too," I added, noticing the disbelief on his face.

I positioned myself, noting the arrival of the girl in pink in front of us. She looked serious and appeared to be the one starting our race with Jay. I glanced at Jay again, seeing him focus intently on the slide structure ahead, probably calculating equations in his mind.

"Aria, please start! I still don't have my physics assignment!" Dom pleaded, thinking Jay could easily win.

"Okay... Are you ready, Jay?" Aria asked, and Jay nodded.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" I said with a frown.

She smirked, "No, why bother?"

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes. When Aria counted down to three, Jay swiftly started biking, and I leaned casually on my bike as he took off. Was he really taking this seriously? It seemed like he wanted to give me a hard time with his assignments.

"What's she doing?"

"Why isn't she speeding up?"

As Jay approached the curve, I increased my pedaling speed. I heard gasps from Jay's friends. I grinned as I managed to keep up with Jay, surprising him. He glanced at me with disbelief but I kept pedaling. I sensed his hesitation due to the pavement's condition. I accelerated to avoid losing balance, knowing my bike might veer off if it hit a rough spot.

"Fuck! Is she really going through there?" Dom exclaimed.

"Does she want to get hurt? That's dangerous!" his girlfriend chimed in.

My bike soared through the air, and I adjusted my body to maintain control. Jay followed suit, but his landing wasn't as smooth due to his slower speed. He hadn't accelerated enough. I even executed a Wheelie trick to stabilize my bike, almost reaching the finish line.

My attention faltered when I spotted a guy with red hair from a distance. I furrowed my brows, instantly losing focus because of it.

"Seriously," I muttered, noticing Vinny's crew in the distance. 

Why were they here? Damn it. Vinny's insults about being a girl echoed in my mind. I remembered how I insulted their crew, saying biking was for kids, but here I was racing against my classmate.

My bike slowed down, giving Jay the chance to speed past me and win. Frustration etched on my face as I crossed the finish line after him.

"What was that?" Jay approached me. Anger was evident on his face.

"W-What do you mean?" I forced a laugh. "Oh come on, don't tell me you actually believe I'd win?"

He stared at me intensely. Sweaty and breathless, we locked eyes, his filled with anger.

"You did it on purpose. We both knew you would win, but why did you do that?"

“I didn’t do anything, Jay.” I said with full confidence. . "I was just bored, so I challenged you. There's no way I'll join your crew."

I couldn't tell if I was lying to myself or speaking the truth. A part of me resists joining their crew because, as I said, I'm done with biking. But being around this man changes everything. Because of him, I find myself wanting to be part of their group. To enter their competitions. I want to understand him better, to get closer to him. How is it that he effortlessly exudes such allure? He's not supposed to be my type. I mean, I have no right to call anyone a nerd when I've been called that myself. But something about him draws me in.

But of course, that's just a fantasy. He has a girlfriend. And trust me, the moment I learned she's beautiful, I quickly dismissed any thoughts about Jay from my mind.

"Don't worry; I'll still do your assignment--" I added.

"Let's do it again," Jay interrupted firmly, surprising me. "I won't accept the result if I know you let me win that easily."

"You're crazy; I just told you that you're really good--"

"What's happening here?" We both stopped when Vinny spoke behind me. Jay's friends also approached. I felt the tension between the two crews.

"What's that trash doing here?" Dom's expression changed upon seeing Joker and Wooin.

"Why didn't you invite us to your race, Demitra? I would love to see you win against their so-called ace," Wooin's tone was challenging.

"You're friends with them?" Minu asked. I was about to shake my head when Vinny spoke up.

"If she was, what about it?" Vinny's tone was dangerous, causing me to back up. He was now at eye level with Jay.  Dom was supposed to say something but Vinny cut him off. 

I tightened my grip on my palm. "This is becoming interesting," Wooin exclaimed with excitement. He was with Hyuk and Joker, exchanging glances with the Hummingbird crew.

Vinny scoffed. "So this is your training? Racing against a girl?" He said it disbelievingly to Jay.

"Since when did you start putting down girls?" Dom asked, annoyed. "Did you do this to Shelly before?"

Vinny stayed quiet.

I clenched my fist. I couldn't believe it. I recently found out from Sunny High students that Vinny used to be part of Hummingbird. Now that I realized he was friends with these people, especially Jay's girlfriend, it only fueled my anger even more.

How could he respect girl riders in Hummingbird but disrespect me? We may not be close, but he had no right to insult my abilities.

I shot Wooin a glare. "Just go. Take your crew and leave," I said firmly, trying to contain my frustration. The smirk vanished from Wooin's face, replaced by a scowl. He exchanged a tense look with me before muttering a curse and adjusting his hair in irritation.

"Fine," he turned away and motioned to his friends, especially Vinny. "We'll wait. Finish your little chat with the nerds first," he added with a sneer.

"Who're you calling a nerd, jerk?" Dom almost lunged forward but was held back by Yuna. Minu and June looked equally irritated, while Jay maintained a watchful gaze on me.

Mia, looking confused and concerned, spoke up, "What's gotten into Vinny? He's never like this, especially not with us or with riders like Shelly."

Minu's response was short and sharp, "He's just being an idiot, plain and simple."

My chest tightened as I realized they knew Vinny's behavior because they were close to him. It meant Vinny wasn't naturally disrespectful towards women; there was something personal here, and I couldn't fathom what it was besides our rocky start.

"I'll handle your assignment later," I told Jay, trying to diffuse the tension.

He met my eyes with a steely gaze. "No. We'll do it together."

I blinked in surprise. "W-What?"

"That race wasn't fair," Jay explained evenly. "I won't let you take the fall for it alone," he added, a touch of determination in his voice.

[jolapeno]

vi. the place where I want to be

javier peña x f!reader | chapter six of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. making out. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;) wordcount: 3.5k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Javi traces his bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, allowing himself the chance to let his eyes roll up and down you.

Taking it in that you’re real.

“Or should I say hola?” 

He smirks, laughing and dropping his hand from his mouth. “You can say hola, hermosa. If you want.”

Dipping your head, he watches you take a breath before you lift your eyes to meet his again. All beautiful, shining—practically fucking sparkling. 

“I knew you’d be fucking handsome.”

“I knew you’d be beautiful.”

Letting his eyes carve around you, he creates an outline before he spends the time shading it in. Unable to tear his eyes from you, the way everything around you seems a fraction brighter, even if he knew that could be so.

All he knows is every inch of you is more perfect than the version he had in his head. 

Then, you blink, dipping your chin before you shift your weight onto another leg. Your fingers playing with your sleeve, something on your mind, puzzle pieces from the little sighs he knows down the phone, marrying with the mannerisms he now gets to see. 

“I know the customary thing is to hug, but….”

Smiling, he eyes you up. “But, what?”

“I really wanna kiss you.” 

Fuck. Me too. That’s all he thinks, hand resting on his hip as he watches you try to appear confident—embrace how your words fell from your lips as though it didn't take all of your strength to confess them.

“You should buy a person a coffee before kissing them.”

Snorting, he watches your brows rise, an expression falling across your face that makes him want to laugh. “Don’t think you’re a stranger, Javi. I came to the sound of your voice four nights ago.”

He licks his lips, your snark dripping with honey.

It makes it easy to slide a hand around your waist, bringing you flush with him. “I guess I did promise you the feel of my lips.” 

"You did."

It's dizzying, the way you gaze at him. More so when you slowly place your wrists on his shoulders, fingers tantalisingly close to the hair at the base of his neck.

It's why he allows you a moment, a chance to push him away—to reconsider. But, you don’t seem to want to take it, one hand sliding down his chest, fingers toying with the fabric of his open shirt—staring at him. All he can do is watch your pupils being swallowed by something he wants to see in more detail later. More privately. 

“Kiss me, baby," you whisper.

In the back of his throat, he buries a groan. Gently slanting his lips over yours, tasting it—mint and lipgloss—as his fingers slide under your cheek and jaw. Holding you, feeling you. Taking every bit of self-control not to pick you up and take you to his truck.

Instead, he just allows the pads of his touch to paint a pattern across your skin. Taking note of the way your mouth moves with his, widening, allowing him to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, feeling your whimper echo down his throat. 

And he doesn’t want to stop, not ever. 

Not as you grip his forearm, frame pinned to his as though it’s a crime the two of you have ever been apart. 

He supposes it is. An offence he's ever been without you before now. Even if he has you now.

Your lips fall from his in a way that you know you both must, too. Lashes fluttering open, blinding him in pure gold and sunshine, all full of longing, your eyes almost shaped like hearts staring back at him. 

“Let’s get you checked in, ay.” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. His hand releases you, before reaching around you, taking the handle of your suitcase—somehow surprised at how heavy it is. 

“What you got in here?” 

It's instant, the way you wrap your arms around yourself, your lips twist into a grin. "I wasn’t sure what to pack.” 

“Mierda, querida. How long are you staying for? Una semana o un mes.” 

Narrowing your eyes, your fingers jab at him playfully. “Hilarious. Una semana.”

Raising his brow, you stick out the tip of your tongue. But what takes him by surprise is the way your fingers slide around his other wrist. Your eyes shimmering with hope and insecurity, and instantly, he knows. 

Smiling, almost instinctively so. It graces the lower half of his face before his mind catches up to the fact, his fingers sliding between yours—fitting so perfectly, flawlessly so. 

He blames it for why he kisses your forehead, capturing how your face shifts into a blend of the sun and a smile. 

“C’mon, charmer, show me your ride.” 

Javi offers to take you to a restaurant, but you insist on something smaller—a diner, a cafe.

“Some place I can get something greasy and not be judged.”

He notices in the truck, that you tap your fingers when it goes silent. Head turned, eyes staring out at the passing city as he drives the two of you to the hotel, fingers playing an imaginary piano on your knee.

A part of him wants to reach over, smooth his hand over—calm you. Rid you of your nerves. Until he realises, he’s doing the same on the steering wheel.

The hotel reception area is small, to the point he finds his front pressed against your back. If you mind, you say nothing, occasionally shooting him a smirk over your shoulder as you check in for both his and your rooms.

“You’ve got broad shoulders,” you say when the elevator doors close.

Biting the inside of his mouth, he clutches the handle of his suitcase. “Y’been admiring, have ya?”

You only offer one word, and a smirk: “Maybe.” The elevator binging, the doors opening, you sliding out with your suitcase in toe as you glance over your shoulder at him as you go to freshen up.

His mind doesn’t stop racing until the moment he shuts his own door behind him. The pulsing electricity of you being so close running through his nerves.

You were here: all real and beautiful. 

Hand tugging out his phone, he's barely thinking as he fires it off. His reckoning comes several seconds later as he changes his shirt.

she’s beautiful, murphy Wrong number, baby. But thank you. 

"Shit."

He stares at it, your reply. His mind imagining, constructing the expression you'd have been wearing—it makes him smile.

she’s beautiful, murphy

And she’s got you using grammar. She’s a keeper.

fuck you 

Glad you’re alive and that’s she what you imagined.  Connie told me to tell you she can come with you next time you visit Miami.

I’ll keep it in mind 

You told him you’d meet him at his truck.

A sight he found almost short-circuited him when he spotted you leaning against it, sporting a tee and jeans, with shades hiding your eyes. 

Unsure how to greet you again, choosing instead to open the car door for you, watching as you slide your sunglasses down your nose, keeping your eyes on him until you got in.

Each time you peer at him like that, he swears he sees something twinkling, shimmering, in your eyes. A thing he wanted to keep hold of forever. See it always—never be apart from it. 

The thought rises and falls in his head, a brief thing he considers, but doesn't allow himself to overthink. It's the first day. Still, plenty of time for him to say the wrong thing.

Do the wrong thing.

Peña it.

Don’t want to fuck this up.

It's a phrase the two of you keep saying. Both of you pepper it into conversation and texts here and there since the moment you agreed.

Something which had been sitting in his truck with him until he saw you outside the airport, and now it's slowly fading to nothing as the two of you head to a place he’d heard was good. 

It's nothing fancy. All plastic menus and fluorescent light, but you beam at him as the two of you choose a booth in the back. Your eyes begin scanning the menu before he even picks his up. Too busy allowing himself another moment to note your nose scrunch and the way your eyes widen when you read something.

Drinks are ordered, and food is too, before a comfortable silence falls over the two of you until the drinks arrive. He mirrors you when you lean back, shifting his hips as his knee nudges yours.

“Did you get hold of your dad?” 

Smiling, he rests his forearms on the table—watching you stir the spoon around your coffee. Something you’ve been doing for a solid minute, having not put anything in it that even needs mixing. 

“I did. He’s good.” 

Nodding, you smile, eyes dropping back to the menu. 

Another silence falls, still a comfortable one. One that he imagines people have together when they’ve been dating for a while.

It doesn't need to be filled, but it permits a moment for the other to stare at the person across from them. 

To admire them. To appreciate them. Both things he's doing plenty.

Each second he's granted, it makes it harder not to slide around to your side of the booth and place his thigh close to yours. His body screams, practically calling out to you, both because he wants to soothe any lingering anxiousness and also to be as close to you as he humanly can be.

A feeling that makes him massage the bridge of his nose—

“Is this weird?” 

He eyes you, dropping his hand, wrapping it around the cheap porcelain mug before bringing it to his lips. “Being in front of you or the situation?” 

You scrunch your nose. “Both?” 

Shaking his head, he takes a sip before placing it back down. “Not for me.” 

You look at the table, shifting in the booth seat. A smile, one that feels secretive—that you’re trying to hold back. “Not for me either.” 

He almost grins, almost. 

Like you, he keeps holding portions of it back so it doesn’t fully illuminate over his face. Instead, he stretches his hand across the table, passing the sauces and salt before your hand finds his—fingers, so perfectly, slotting between his. 

“It feels… right.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “it does.” 

He rolls his lips, free hand stroking at the hair above his lip as he takes you in. How you watch him, how you sound exactly as you do in your text messages—that it all adds up.

From the little quirks, the nose scrunch, the brow, the way you smile. Each piece fills in the puzzle, forming a mural he never wants to tear down. 

“You talk quicker than you text,” you smirk. 

“Ay, hermosa.” 

Laughing, you tighten your fingers around his. “Kinda glad I’m here for a few days. I don’t want to have to wait fifteen minutes for a reply each time.” 

“You’re pushing it.” 

“I do that.”

He snorts, lips sliding up one side of his face. “Good job, I like it.” 

He sees it then, the way that you shift when you’re embarrassed. Eyes dropping, lips pinching into a smile as you wiggle, shifting in the booth. 

“You got much you have to do tomorrow?” 

Shaking your head, you look up—leaning back into the booth, tips of your fingers just in reach. “Not really. I have to speak to the sales manager—go through their reports, and then I have a meeting with someone from imports.”

You must notice his expression, the way his brows have slid into his hairline.

Smirking, you roll your eyes. “It sounds fancier than it is, former DEA. But, once I've done a handover, then I’m all yours for the rest of the week.” 

He points at himself. “All mine?” 

Nodding, he watches as your teeth bite your lip. “If you want?” 

Leaning onto the table, his fingers find the tips of yours. “‘Course I do.” 

Javi echoes your sentiment about not rushing things. Until you’re on his bed. 

Lay flat on your stomach, eyes staring down at the black and white squares both of you are yet to fill in. 

He hadn’t even thought about the crossword, not even as you split off from him in the grocery store—both having separate missions to collect supplies for a night watching something on whatever channel they had in either of their rooms.

So when you had met him at the checkout, placing down chips, sweets and a book, he arched his brow. 

“Turn it over." 

The assistant is barely awake, never mind paying attention to them waiting, still stacking the same stand they were when they walked in. So as he does turn it over, flicking his gaze down, Javi instantly sees the noticeable black and white squares and thick words written across it: CROSSWORD.

“Thought we could keep up your tradition.” 

It’s nothing. Not really.

Entirely a small thing, but it makes him move, hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he crashes his lips to yours. Doing so with a sea of gratitude and appreciation, heart doubling, thumping heavy and hard against his ribs. Hoping his mouth is articulating the sentiment as you smile against him.

It should scare him, terrify him to his bones at how much he feels so soon.

Because you thought of him, of this. This little thing he did that you now do together. 

That’s how you both ended up on his plush hotel bed, half the squares filled in—the easier clues picked off and written in a black biro you’d found in your bag. 

If he had thought you were impressive over text, watching your brain churn in person was something else. Your eyes flick to the side as you think, falling back to the clue, occasionally meeting him—stealing the breath from his lungs—

“37 is thatsthewayitis.” 

Each time you guess a clue, he finds he does the same thing. He raises his brow, watches you smirk, and then studies as you begin to etch each letter into the paper. The only noticeable change is how comfortable you slowly get and how much smugger you are. 

The voice he knows from the phone calls coming out more easily, your hands fidgeting less—body relaxing close to his 

“You think you’re gonna get involved at any point, Peña?” 

Nudging you, he smirks, glancing from your eyes to your lips. “You’re last naming me now? Fine. 38 down, stepup.” 

Handing him the pen, he takes it with a smirk, etching the word in as he finds your eyes still warming his skin. 

“63 across is Eddie,” you add, tapping the page as you move closer, shoulder brushing his. “And 52 is eerie.” 

“You, baby, are impressive.” 

Waiting until he’s written them in, he hears you swallow. The hotel duvet rustles as you move onto your side, arm reaching across, closing the book on his hand. 

For a moment, he just lets you drown him in your gaze—swallowing him whole, pulling him under. Unsure why he isn’t closing the gap, why he isn’t marrying his lips to yours—

“So are you, charmer.” 

Drinking you in, he releases the pen between the pages—leaning towards you. Nerves building, momentary panic that he could have misread this, until you begin to meet him halfway.

Then he’s kissing you for the billionth time today. The two of you moving together more seamlessly, all gentle and tender. Slowly placing his hands around your side, feeling you shift and move until you're under him, hands around his neck—leg hooked over his hip. 

Words similar to you’re perfect, almost murmur from him as the book falls to the floor with a thud. Them being replaced by words such as, you’re so pretty, prettier than he could have ever imagined, but you gasp against his mouth.

An array of other things are almost being kissed against your skin when you begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, brushing knuckles and skin against him. He thanks you by running his mouth against your jaw, tongue drawing lines as you whimper his name—his jeans getting impossibly tight as he lets it grow messy.

Until he remembers—

I don’t want to fuck this up. 

Pausing, he lets out a breath. Eyes closing. 

Your nervous voice down the phone. Your little explanation. The fact you told him you like him.

Your fingers brush against his scalp, scared to open his eyes and see something other than want or adoration in your eyes.

I want you. He wants to say. More than he can find the words.

But he wants to earn you.

“Querida…” Tell me what to do.

“I know.”

It leaves your lips full of sadness, a sorrow tinged and wrapped around the words like a vine.  

Tracing your cheek with his nose, he lets himself enjoy the feel of your fingers in his hair. The way you twirl a strand around a finger before you slowly let them fall from his neck. Slowly, he opens his eyes, finding you watching him, studying him—wondering if you’re committing him to memory in the same way he is with you.  

His thumb digs into your hip, fingers tightening around you. “You have work early, too.” 

“I do.” 

Begrudgingly, he slides off you, hand moving to his jeans conspicuously, shifting himself as he does—watching you glance at him as you stand from the bed. 

Shifting on the spot, he watches as you grin, smoothing down your clothes. “You’ll see me tomorrow, right?”

“I will.” 

Closing the gap to him, you lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks... y'know, for picking me up.”

“Anytime.” 

Licking your lips, you sigh softly. It graces the air, more than shoving into it. “Goodnight, Javi.” 

Two words he’s so used to hearing down a bad phone line, he never realised how heavenly they’d be in person. For a moment, it makes him too stunned to think, never mind say anything. 

Just watching as you glance back as you open the door of his room, waving lightly, barely able to spit the same sentiment to you before it clicks back into place. 

As soon as he’s alone, his palms find his eyes.

Instantly, the world gets a little dimmer, his heart descending a fraction in his chest.

Turning on the spot—memories of moments ago, the collection of them he’s been mounting up since that first ever text, sitting around him. All of it vibrating, shaking in fury and disappointment that he let you go.

All of them blend, dropping like paint splotches onto a canvas as it paints a photo of you. Of the two of you.

It captures the look in your eyes when you see him at the airport, the warmth he felt sitting across from you, talking about families and childhoods—

What is he fuckin' doing? 

Something he can’t even answer, something he’s not even sure about because he shouldn’t have let you walk out. Shouldn't have let you leave tonight ever considering that by lying with him, you could fuck this up.

It rises in him, how he shouldn't have let you get to the hallway, never mind to your room. Because how can either of you fuck up something that feels this right—that feels more right than he’s felt in his gut in a long time.

Fingers running through his hair, Javi’s feet move, forgoing his boots as he grabs the room key from the desk. He practically yanks open his hotel door, key shoved between his teeth as his hands move to his buttons, beginning to do them up—just in case. Wanting to be presentable when he stands at your door, when he tries to find the words to say. 

While your room is only down the hall, it feels like forever until he’s outside your door. 

Focused on scrambling words together, Javi shoves the key into his jean pocket, hand hovering over the door, all set to knock. 

Only to find it vanishes from his knuckles. 

And you’re standing there. All golden. The back of you is all illuminated by a lamp in your room as the hallway light splays across your features.

The way you look at him dries his throat, steals his words. Especially when it's a softer expression like this one, no teasing words and just a simple stare.

You look every bit ethereal and unreal—more like something he concocted in his mind, than made of skin and bone. 

Even if he just saw you moments ago, had you under him moments before that—Javi is still tempted to pinch himself, the entire day feeling like a fucking dream. 

“I…” you begin. 

But he knows. “We’re not going to fuck this up, are we, cariño?”

You smile, swallowing. “No. We’re not.” 

“Good, girl.” 

It’s instant. Like it’s scripted, rather than entirely by chance.

You melt into him as he muffles his name against his lips. Reminding him that this is real, you’re real. 

The earlier worries of rushing things fade to black, vanishing, turning all to dust as he manoeuvres you inside your room. Kicking it shut, feeling your fingers wrestling with the same buttons he’s just tried to fasten—a gasp escaping when your spine finds a wall. 

“If you want to stop—” 

Shaking your head, your hand holds his chin. Staring into him, scorching your thoughts into him. “I was coming to find you. Just now, when you…” 

“Came to find you?” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. Look every bit sinful, beautiful and fucking everything. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

Your fingers brush his cheek, that mischievous glint in your eye he’s caught occasionally across the diner table. “Show me how pretty you think I am, baby.” 

an: the next scene on friday is spicy. if you'd prefer to skip it, I'll see you on Tuesday.

[obxone]

Unlikely Pairing

unedited. ~4.3k words.

(This is a scene from Season 3. It is purely inserting the reader into the scenes at Singh's mansion with some added dialogue and scene descriptions/reader's thoughts. It is giving a reunited ex-lovers/close proximity in the face of danger vibe. I used a good chunk of dialogue from OBX so definitely not just my writing. There will be a part two...I've already started it. Enjoy!)

Warning: long + a tinge of smut

A knock on the door startles you from your relaxed position on the bed. The bed itself is not bad for a kidnapper’s bed. It is comfortable and soft. After days of sleeping on woven mats, it feels nice to be on something soft again. The door swings open to a woman in a maid outfit, a tight smile on her face. “He’s ready.”

“Who?” You ask, righting yourself on your feet and smoothing out the dress you had found in the armoire.

She inclines her head, gesturing to the door, “Come.”

You follow her out into the hallway and down to the first floor. She again gestures to another doorway, asking for you to go inside the room. You frown but do as she asks. The room appeared empty as you step inside, looking around for whoever ‘he’ is. You pause at the sight of a man with a buzzed haircut pouring himself a drink.

“Um, excuse me?”

The man turns and your lips part, all the air leaves your lungs and your chest clenches at the sight of Rafe. Neither of you says a word for a moment, the shock is clear on both of your faces. The silence settles in as you take him in. He looks good, healthy still, but his suit seems a size too big. And gone are those dirty blond locks that were always perfectly in place and instead a freshly shaved buzz cut.

“No,” you whisper, taking a step back, hands reaching back to brace yourself against the wall the more steps you take from him. “What are you doing here? Sarah tried to tell us this would be Ward and you behind this bullshit.”

Your words seem to snap him out of his daze as he moves forward, reaching a hand out toward you. “How are you here? What are you even talking about? Are the pogues trying to weasel in on my deal?” His hand curls into his chest when you lean away from him. “Is that what’s going on?”

“Your deal?” You glare at him. “What deal?”

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know,” a man with a thick accent speaks from the adjoining room. Both of your heads snap around to see him looking out the window, his back to you both. He turns with a soft chuckle to you see both as he scratches his beard. He dripped money and danger.

“Who are you?” Rafe asks and you do not miss the way he shifts to angle his body between you and the strange man.

“Me?” He points to himself as he draws closer. “My name is Carlos Singh.” He smiles before pointing at Rafe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron.”

You glare at Rafe again, but he ignores you, continuing to watch Singh instead.

“And Ms. yln, I do apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here. But please, come.” He gestures behind him. “Sit down.”

You stare at him, not moving an inch and neither does Rafe.

“Come now, I don’t bite.” He holds out his hand towards you both as he takes a step or two back into the room before turning and going.

Rafe turns to you, his eyebrows pulled together as his gaze runs the length of you. No doubt that he notices the expensive dress you wear when he frowns at the sight of it. The silk material clings to you in exactly the right places, but it is definitely not something you would pick yourself and he knows it.

You do not say a word, instead stepping around your ex and entering the room. Rafe reaches for you, but you pull your arm out of his reach. You could handle this without him, you had been without him for what felt like months now.

“Rough tactics?” Rafe asks, those blue eyes that haunt your dreams running the length of you again when you sit down. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing to harm her,” Singh smirks, looking at you before turning to Rafe.

“And what about me?”

“Yes, Mr. Cameron, false pretenses,” Carlos answers, pouring his own drink. “But the ends justify the means, I’m afraid.”

Rafe nods to Singh’s comment before moving towards you and taking the chair beside yours. His knee bumps yours as he sits closer.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his fingers reaching out to brush your arm, but you move your arm away. Crossing your arms over your waist instead.

“I’m fine.”

“We have a lot to talk about.” Carlos moves forward with his glass tumbler. Rafe exhales as he turns his gaze from yours to Carlos.

You refuse to look at Rafe again or even let any part of him touch you. If Ward and Rafe are not behind this, then you know you and your friends are in even greater danger. And you could not count on Rafe to get all seven of you out of it unscathed.

“Why are we here?” You ask, folding your hands in your lap, back straightening, and gaze locking on the newest threat to your safety. You would not show him the panic and fear clawing at you from the inside.

“Well, Ms. yln, Mr. Cameron, we share certain interests, you know.” He looks between you. “Objectives.”

“Is this not about the cross?” Rafe looks at him, with no amount of amusement or even worriedness on his face now.

“It is.” Singh smiles while waving his index finger at Rafe. “Tangentially, it is about the cross, but it’s also about something much, much bigger than the cross.” He moves to look at what is a painting. “By order of magnitude…” He sighs. “The completion of a grand quest. You see, the story goes that 450 years ago, a Spanish soldier came out of the Orinoco Basin with a few gold beads. And when they asked the Spanish soldier “where the beads came from,” the Spanish soldier replied he got them from a peaceful Indigenous tribe who lived in a city of gold. El Dorado.” He waves his hand around, smiling a little and you feel Rafe’s gaze flickers to you once more, but you continue to ignore him. You could not do this right now with him. “And for the next 450 years, people tried to find that gold, you know.” Singh moves closer to where you are both seated before reaching over to pick something up. “They tried. Conquistadors, knights, captains of ships, tribes, entire nations."

You now recognize the object in his hand as a knife. Your fingers tighten on your arms that rest against your waist and Rafe shifts at the sight of the knife.

“All fighting each other in a race for the end of the rainbow. Thousands of lives laid on the pyre of gold fever.”

He smirks, moving closer again and Rafe shifts out of the corner of your eye, leaning closer to Singh. He has his interest, and you are not surprised in the least.

“It falls on me, you know. It falls on me to complete the task. To bring full circle a quest that has gone on for almost 500 years. Perhaps…” He gestures again with the knife, punctuating the air to impose the importance of his mission. “Perhaps the greatest quest in the history of the western hemisphere, you know.” He looks between you two again and you see Rafe’s jaw clench when you look at him. His gaze fixated on Singh still. “And you two…” Singh points the knife at Rafe and then at you. Singh chuckles as he lowers the knife. “You two are going to play a part in that.”

Neither of you say anything and he takes the silence as an opportunity to continue forward.

“What about you, Ms. yln, hmm?” He moves closer and lowers himself into the seat across from you. “Are you interested in history?”

“I’m more of a living in the present and planning for the future kind of girl.”

Rafe groans, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his fingers before lifting his head to look at your captor. “Yeah, I didn’t listen to a word you said, okay? How much are you gonna keep philosophizing?”

Singh chuckles. “You are direct, aren’t you, Mr. Cameron?”

Neither of them says a word as they stare at one another. This isn’t going to end well, and you know it, both men are determined in their own personal missions.

“What do you need from me?” You ask, crossing your leg over the other at the knee and pulling the excess material to cover your exposed thigh.

“I’ve come to believe that you and your friends are in possession of something that can help me get what I want.”

You lift an eyebrow and reframe from crossing your arms back against your waist. Strong and poised, just like you had seen all the kooks do. “Which is?”

“An old manuscript. A diary, actually.” Singh looks down for a second before meeting your unwavering gaze again. Rafe’s head turns and he is looking at you, a questioning look on his face. You do not blink, react, or even allow yourself to balk as you stare back at Singh. Your shoulders stay back, and you focus on maintaining a steady breathing pattern. The diary of Pope’s ancestor was not available to him and never would be if you could help it. You could drag this out until they found you, surely, they would be coming soon.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Rafe says to Singh when you do not respond or react.

“This is ridiculous. I don’t know anything about a diary,” you supply finally. Your features are schooled to not give away the truth.

Singh looks away, a sad smile on his face before he meets your gaze again. “But how else could you have learned that the cross was on the Royal Merchant?”

You shake your head, the façade starting to crack under both men’s gazes. You inhale sharply. “Look, I want to help you, but I can’t.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that you know.” His face morphs into one of anger. “Because unfortunately, I don’t believe you. You and your friend here couldn’t have found the cross without it.”

“He’s not my friend.” You glance over at Rafe, who does not look the least bit impressed.

Singh smirks, looking over at him as well. “Ex-boyfriend, then.”

Neither of you say anything and Rafe looks away, pinching the bridge of his nose again.

“We can’t all be friends, you know,” Singh supplies. “Or more…”

Rafe sighs, starting to get to his feet after he claps his hands together once. “Look, this is ridiculous. Okay? I’m out.” He starts to step backward as he turns to you. “Come on, I’m not leaving you here.”

“Rafe…” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I don’t know anything about a diary and neither does she, okay? So-” An armed guard steps forward, stopping him in his path and you cannot help, but grip your knee tightly at the thought of the guard using Rafe as target practice.

“Do I look like a fool to you, Mr. Cameron?” Singh asks, his attention solely focused on Rafe now. “Do I look like a fool to you?” He gets to his feet and your fingernails dig into your knee as he approaches Rafe.

Rafe shrugs, lips pressed into a line as he paces away from the guard.

“You have the cross. She and her friends had the cross at one point.” He gestures to you without looking, but you are staring at Rafe willing him to back down. He ignores you, glaring at Singh instead. “So one of you has the dairy. And if you really don’t know then I suggest you get your girlfriend to tell me.”

Rafe looks at you and you swallow with a slight shake of your head, you could not.

“Once I have the diary…” Singh turns to look at you. “You’ll be free to leave.”

“And if you don’t get the diary…?” You ask softly.

Singh smirks before shrugging. “We don’t want it to come to that. Right?” He turns to the open doorway. “Fenton.”

The bodyguard who had shoved you around earlier returns, a neutral expression on his face.

“Let’s give our guests the tour.” The guard steps forward shoving you and then Rafe follows Singh out of the room and towards the stairs.

Once up the stairs, Singh leads the way into the bedroom you had previously been stowed away in. His arms stretch out as he moves towards the window. “Enjoy the grounds during your stay.” You both follow him into the room, the guard not far behind. “I must warn you, though. I’m not a man of infinite patience.”

You glance at Rafe as he gets closer. His fingers nearly brush your waist.

“You have one day,” Singh continues. “Go to the window for a little demonstration.” He moves towards the exit and walks between you while patting Rafe on the upper arm. “I think you’ll enjoy it; you know.”

After he steps out of the room, the guard grabs the doorknob and closes the door without a word.

“Hey. Hey!” Rafe goes after them, but he is not fast enough as the door clicks shut with the sound of the lock sliding firmly in place. “You’re just done talking?” He rattles the doorknob trying to open it, but it does not budge. “Hey!”

“Rafe…” You sigh, moving towards the window. “It’s locked. Trust me, where do you think he had me before our little meeting downstairs.”

“How long have you been here?” He asks, spinning to look at you.

You shrug. “Not more than a day.” You peek out the window and he joins you as a truck pulls up, his hand brushing against your back and you pull away from him. He huffs in annoyance, but you ignore it.

“Fine,” he lifts his hands but continues to look out the window at what you are seeing as guards haul someone out of a truck.

“Get off me, man! I didn’t do nothing, man!” Portis’s voice carries up to you and you inhale, hand pressing to the glass.

“Who the hell is that guy?” Rafe asks, leaning closer to the glass.

You exhale, hand retracting from the glass. “I know him. It’s Jimmy Portis.”

Rafe’s head whips to the side as he looks at you.

“He was trying to help me,” you murmur, meeting his gaze head-on. “They are going to hurt him, aren’t they?” You look back out to the patio just as Singh steps into your line of sight. He looks up at you before pulling out a gun.

“Whoa, whoa,” Rafe starts, his hand brushing yours before his fingers wrap tightly around your wrist, but Singh turns away and heads into the covered porch area where they had taken Jimmy. The sound of the gun firing has you both flinching. You gasp, horror flooding through you, and your fingers tighten around your dress as you stare at where everyone had been moments before, but Rafe pulls you away, tucking your head under his chin as he holds you against his chest before you can see the body or even Singh again.

“This diary,” Rafe starts, his breathing matching your own frantic pace. “Hey, no bullshit. Don’t bullshit me, okay?” He turns your face up to his, his free hand gripping your chin. “Do you have it?” After a moment with your lack of response and not meeting his gaze, he goes for the weak spot. “Baby, do you have it?”

“No.” You respond, meeting his gaze head-on now before you reach up to pull his hand away from your face. “I don’t.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, Rafe, God!” You exhale and pull away from him completely before pacing across the room. “Besides, it’s not my diary. It’s Pope’s.”

“I don’t think Singh cares about that!”

“I’m aware!” You gesture to the window before turning away, your hands tightening on your arms as you cross your arms against your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to think of a way to get yourself to safety. Surely the pogues would be looking for you, but matched against the armed guards outside they would not get anywhere near you. And it is clear Singh does not mind killing someone that gets in his way.

“We need to figure out how to get out of here then.”

“The pogues will be looking for me.”

He scoffs. “Against Singh’s own personal army?”

You glare at him. “I’m all ears then.”

He smirks, dragging his hand over his mouth. “You think your little boyfriend JJ can save you, don’t you?”

“Rafe,” you warn, but he just laughs.

“He’d get shot and die before he gets anywhere near you now, Princess.”

“I’m not your Princess anymore.”

He shrugs, plopping down on the edge of the windowsill. “Whose decision was that?”

“Mine, one I don’t regret.”

“Right,” he mutters before shedding his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. “Going from being my girl to that dirty Pogue’s girl was quite the step up,” he mocks, and you have half a nerve to slap him, but you bite it down instead.

“Fighting is not going to help us right now.”

“The only thing that is going to help us is getting that diary,” he mutters, and you groan, throwing yourself down on the mattress. “We have one day to figure this out or we join Jimmy out there.”

“I’m aware,” you sigh, burying your face in the blanket as you try to think of a plan.

“Where is the diary?”

“I don’t know!” You snap and lift your head just as Rafe leans onto the bed. His hands are on either side of your head as he leans over you on the opposite side of the bed.

“You are lying.”

“Am not.”

He smirks. “I know your tells.”

You roll your eyes and start to sit up, but he does not move, instead, he reaches out. His hand encloses your wrist before he lifts your hand to his face. His eyes flutter closed as he presses your palm to his cheek.

“Rafe?”

“Let me,” he says, his voice softer now. “I thought I lost you that day on the ship.”

“You did.”

His eyes snap open and they meet your gaze before he drops your hand and straightens up. “I missed you, every day. I tried to take you with me.”

“You tried to kidnap me,” you amend, sitting up and leaning back against the pillows at the head of the bed. “Or are you too much like your father? Manipulating the truth to fit your agenda.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Paint me as the bad guy for being in love with you.”

You sigh, closing your eyes briefly, head dropping back against the pillows. “You never loved me, Rafe.”

“Bullshit.”

You stay silent, instead focusing on finding a way out of the compound.

“Where did you get that dress?”

“Singh.”

He scoffs, running a hand over his face, but you ignore him, keeping your eyes closed. “Take it off.”

“No.”

“Take it off,” he repeats, and this time you do open your eyes to glare at him.

“I said no. It’s the only clothing I have right now.”

“You can have my jacket. I don’t like you wearing his dress.”

“Too fucking bad. I don’t want your jacket either.”

He moves closer, crossing the distance between you in a few long strides. His body bearing down over yours as he glares at you. “He thinks he owns you while you are wearing that. Besides, the color isn’t even right for you.”

“Oh?” You ask, arching a brow at him. “And does the same apply if I put on your jacket?”

He does not say a word and it makes you laugh.

“Give it up, Rafe. You lost me a long time ago.”

He smirks. “Liar.”

“You are so annoying,” you groan and try to get off the bed to move away from him, but he hooks his arm around your waist pulling you back to where he wants. His long lean body presses against yours. The attempts to shove his arm away fail and he takes the opportunity to use his free hand to tip your chin back. Your eyes lock and he breathes deeply before he leans down.

“You’ve always been mine, Princess.” He smirks, nudging your nose with the tip of his. “We both know it.”

“Rafe…”

“Admit it, Princess, and I let you go. Admit that you belong to me.”

You exhale sharply, lips parting as his breath fans over your face. “JJ was never in the picture, Rafe. He loves Kiara and she loves him.”

“Not what I asked, Baby.”

You inhale shakily, hands on his forearms, squeezing the toned expanse under your palms. “Rafe…”

“Say it.”

“I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” he says, and it makes your body tingle with anticipation. Your nails bite into the soft skin of his forearm. “Say it for me, Baby.”

You swallow, lips parting again. “I belong to you. I always have.”

His mouth finds yours in a hungry kiss and your hands shift to press to his chest. He expects you to push him back, but the way your heart nearly bursts has your fingers tangling in the thin material of his button-up, pulling him closer instead.

His body covers yours as you both fall into the bed together. His body presses down on yours as you both fight for dominance.

He wins, his hand tangling in your hair and the other finds its way under the skirt of your dress.

“Rafe,” you moan, tipping your head when his mouth moves to lay open-mouthed kisses across your throat and exposed chest. His hips push into yours and you can feel the hardened bulge against your thigh.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he mutters against your skin before the sound of fabric tearing fills the space. You lift your head to see his hand fisting a handful of the fabric of the dress against your waist. It is perfectly torn down the middle. The expanse of your body exposed to him. “Fuck! You are still so beautiful.”

“You ripped my dress.”

“I’ll buy you another.” He smirks, dragging the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. You nip at it before sucking his thumb into your mouth. “In the color, I prefer you to wear.”

“Rafe!” You scold, but he only laughs before his lips are on yours again.

He tugs the straps of your dress down your arms before removing the ripped material away from you completely. Both pieces hit the ground soundlessly as his body presses against yours. Your knees fall apart allowing him to sink into you and you yearn for more of him. You unbutton his shirt, lips ghosting along the length of his neck, and he closes his eyes, relishing the feel and sounds of you in his arms again.

“We don’t have a condom,” you pant against his chest when he wrestles the white button down off his arms before throwing it to the floor while you work on his pants.

“I’ll pull out,” he mutters, pressing his lips to your ear and jaw. “I’m not stopping, not now.”

You nod, ignoring the alarm bells in your head at not having been on your birth control the entire time you have been on the island. Once his pants are down to his knees, you have your hand inside his underwear and wrapping around his hardened length.

“Fuck!” He pants, hips jerking forward as you stroke him a few times. “Christ Princess!”

You watch him, his eyes squeezing shut, lips parting in pleasure before you are kissing him as you continue to pump your hand up and down. His hips rocking in time with your movements. He pants into your mouth, groaning with each stroke until he is jerking away, pushing your hand out of his underwear.

“No, I want to be inside of you.”

You bite your lip and watch him shove his underwear down along with his pants before his fingers encircle the elastic band of your underwear.

“Don’t you dare rip these,” you say against his lips.

He chuckles before nodding and tugging them off while you shed your bra. Both of you toss them to the floor before he is wrapping his hand around your knee and pulling you down closer to him.

“Try to be quiet.”

You scoff and smack his shoulder. “I wasn’t the one shouting out profanities or Christ a second ago.”

He laughs before slowly easing into you. Your breath hitches at the feel of him sinking into you. He buries his face into the curve of your neck, curses of pleasure muffled by your skin, and his hands grip the comforter on either side of your head.

“Fuck!”

“Shh,” you chide, hands running down the expanse of his back.

“I’m going to come right here and now.”

You bite your lip before reaching up to run your fingers through his too short hair. “You know better than that."

He groans as he begins to move, your hands gripping his biceps, the muscles flexing under you palms with each movement. His knuckles turn white from how hard he grips the comforter.

“Touch me, please,” you whisper, lips pressing to his jaw, and he obliges, loosening his grip on the comforter. One hand grips your thigh, pulling your leg up against his hip allowing him to sink deeper and the other tangles in your hair, angling your face so he can kiss you again. Any sound either of you makes is muffled by the other as you kiss, but you are aware of the sound of his hips meeting yours and the bed creaking with each thrust. They know, there is no way they do not know, but it makes you only want him more.

(Part 2)

[cyxnidx]

CRYBABY !

character: choso kamo ft. crybaby!reader

genre: smut

warnings: dacryphilia, overstim if you squint, reader is a crybaby bc choso is just like that 🤷 baby and sweetheart as petnames, reader is called a crybaby

prompt: "i never knew u were so sensitive?"

you and choso have been seeing one another for a while now - a month, to be exact.

in that month, choso would think he knew you well - well enough, to the point that he'd think he knew most of your personality. your moodiness, what certain behaviors mean and what he should or shouldn't take seriously with you. he made it his best interest at heart and his personal mission to understand you fully, and he did just that.

though, sexually, was a different story.

he knew all your icks, sensory issues, if any, and things you hated. he knows all your favorite shows and movies by heart, he indulges in your interests and asks questions to know your point of view deeper, he makes an effort to understand the way you think and how he should later maneuver certain conversations with you, and listens to whatever random topic the two of you land on every night when the two of you finally aren't busy.

however, tonight was a night he's been craving for the longest. a night where he didn't have to have a simple quickie with you to get himself situated, a night where he wasn't busy, going out to fight, or deal with any other distractions. it's a night where he could take care of you properly.

a night where in his mind, he could finally understand you sexually.

not like there haven't been conversations on it before - despite the evident shyness and seemingly taboo vibe of the whole thing, he was genuinely curious.

that curiosity very well developed into a need very quickly. quicker than choso thought it would've.

"relax f'me, baby." he states softly, tongue lapping at your cunt while his fingers fucked your hole at a horribly slow pace. tears dripped down your cheeks as you cried out, hands weakly pushing at choso's head in a futile attempt to get him away.

you were open about both, your sexual experiences and what you were and weren't into. though, there was one feature you left out. whether or not it was purposeful, choso found it intriguing.

lining his cock with your hole, choso held your two wrists over your head before pushing into your plush cunt. he smiled, watching the expression on your face contort into pleasure as he took his time before bottoming out. "you good, baby?" he asks, removing his hand from your wrist.

he'd watch your hands go limp before finding stabilization on his forearms. your cunt clenched around his size, burning sensation due to the stretch sending your senses into a fury. you swallow harshly, eyes blinking as you begin to think the tears are over and done with.

nodding, you sigh, closing your eyes when his thumb rubs away your tears, a soft smile appearing when his skin touches yours. "sucha' baby." he mumbles, kissing your forehead softly.

hands moving back to your waist, he pulls out slowly. you feel every vein as you clench around him, frowning when you feel empty once again.

though, that frown was later spilling moans and quiet curses when he enters you again - cock thrusting into you, first gently, but now at a rapid pace. and now, the tears were back. tears of pleasure, the stimulation of his cock being too overwhelming for you - and now you were beginning to wonder, is this what you were missing out on?

he giggles softly when you cum on his cock without warning, not being able to spill any coherent words and sentences from your mouth if it wasn't miserable moans and repeated curses from pleasure.

choso pulls your hips to meet with his, bringing his mouth to yours as his pace calms to a softer speed. "all these tears.." he whispers against your lips, moving to your neck. "such a baby."

you explain it's never happened before and he's almost surprised. "poor thing. never felt this good, hm?" he feigns a pout, moving his thumb to your nub, rubbing circles against it. "g'na have to show you how it's 'posed to feel, yeah?" he nods, almost innocently, eyes diligently watched as your body begins to writhe under him.

he begins to fuck you faster, keeping a hand on your waist to ensure you can't go anywhere while his other focuses on your clit. "c'mon, cum again, cum for me again." he kisses your cheeks, tears flowing from your eyes.

"s' t'much, too much!" you'd cry, orgasm hitting you like a truck as your heavy eyes go wide, pleasure running through your body. choso kisses you again, painting your walls with his cum as his fingers begin to draw little shapes on your waist in an attempt to calm you from your high.

"i never knew you were so sensitive?" he says, voice laced with curiosity. "jus' fa me, too. such a sweetheart."

i have a terrible hangover fml

[pedritomosquito]

Such a Pretty Thing

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Joel/Tess/Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: Joel and Tess take very good care of you

Tags: SMUT, multiple orgasms, praise kink, dom/sub vibes, Daddy kink, a hint of humiliation ig?, Oral (f receiving), PIV, enthusiastic consent, squirting, no y/n, aftercare, pretty wholesome as far as threesomes go!

A/N: I have no idea why there are not more threesome fics with Joel and Tess because CHRIST have you seen these two??? I seek to remedy this tragedy. I am what they call a "unicorn" (I'm a single person who sleeps with couples) so I'm very well-versed in threesomes 😋 Have a good read!

“Such a pretty thing, isn’t she, Joel?” Tess says as she tucks a bit of hair behind your ear. She’s seated next to you on the sofa. She is facing you, her elbow propped up on the back of the couch with her cheek resting against her hand.

Joel sits in an armchair across from you both, leaned back with his legs spread and a glass of whiskey gripped in hand. His eyes were glued to you and Tess, the weight of his gaze making your cheeks heat up.

“Sure is,” He replies evenly, taking a sip. “Kiss her.”

Tess leans forward and you easily fall into her gravity, lips finding each other. The heat of her mouth reminds you of a roaring fire and she moves closer, her hand on your jaw as she straddles your lap. Her pinky brushes circles on the delicate skin of your neck.

You secure one hand to her hip and the other traces up her side. Her fingertips trail between your bodies as she begins unbuttoning your shirt. She pushes the cup of your bra aside and her cool hand squeezes your breast, her thumb brushing over your nipple.

Your exhale comes out heavy and Tess takes the breaking of your lips to kiss down your jaw. You tilt your head back to allow her access to your neck.

You look at Joel and find his darkened eyes still staring at you over the rim of his drink as he strokes himself over his jeans. The sight forces the air from your chest in a sigh and a slight smirk appears on his face.

He loves that you love being watched.

Your eyes fall shut when Tess sucks over your pulse point. She grinds down in your lap and the coarse friction between your jeans is only enough to make you chase more. Both of your hands are on her hips now to pull her down onto you, rolling your hips up to meet hers. 

Her mouth moves to the other side of your throat and she continues to grind on you. You can feel yourself dripping and wonder if there is already a wet spot soaked through your jeans. 

You can’t keep your hips still anymore, constantly seeking out the weight of Tess against the stiff seam of your pants. Whimpers start escaping you. 

“Aw, so needy,” Tess teased, “Bet you could cum like this, right in your jeans, huh?”

If she keeps talking like that, you’re sure you could. All you can respond is a pathetic whine. 

You hear a glass being set down and then Joel’s arms wrap around Tess from behind. He pulls her off of you and to her feet, giving her a little shove towards the hallway. He takes your hand and does the same to you, making you follow Tess. 

As you enter the bedroom, his hand snakes around your hip, pulling your back flush against him. You can feel his hard-on pressed to the small of your back. His voice is inches from your ear, quiet but clearer than you’ve ever heard it.

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”

The firmness of his body disappears as he makes his way over to Tess. You start stripping your clothes and she gives Joel a fond smile, beginning to undress him. You completely forget what you’re supposed to be doing. You’re too busy watching their perfectly practiced rhythm in how they pull off each other’s clothes, when their lips part, and where their hands wander in between.

You watch Joel’s hand slip between Tess’s legs once her underwear is out of the way.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” Joel breathes.

“Blame her,” Tess replies.

Two pairs of eyes land on you as you stand like a deer in the headlights staring back, pants still around your ankles. 

“You doing alright there, sweetheart?” Tess nearly laughs, a condescending chime to her voice that makes your stomach warm. 

Joel and Tess find your relative inexperience and youth to be very endearing. 

And you find their patronizing comments to be absolutely intoxicating.

“Distracting me,” You muttered, busying yourself with kicking your pants off and climbing onto the bed. You sit on your knees in the center of the mattress and wait expectantly.

Joel approaches you, pressing a palm against your chest and easily pushing you onto your back. He follows you down, finding your lips as he lies alongside you. His kisses were nothing like Tess. Hers were melted and smooth curved, poured into you, while his were all power, firm and precise. She took control by overwhelming you, while he took control by force. 

You feel his rough fingertips trace a path over your stomach and down to your pussy. Your breath catches and your hips seek out more of his touch as he glides over your clit. Tess lays on your other side.

“She’s even more soaked than you are,” He tells her. 

“Can’t wait to taste her,” Tess replies, her hand coming to rest between your thighs, “Want to put that pretty little mouth to work, too.”

Joel brought his wet fingers to your lips. “Suck.”

You take them in your mouth, running your tongue through the division of his fingers to taste yourself.

Joel withdraws, replacing his lips on yours, licking his way into your mouth. You know by his small groan he can taste you. He settles his hand over the base of your throat. Just the weight of it there makes you squirm. You bring your hand to his cheek, his scruff bristling against your palm.

Tess’s hand skims over your clit and you jump slightly, gripping onto her arm.

“Tell me what you want,” Tess says.

Joel releases you long enough to reply.

“Please, your fingers,” You rush.

“Such a good girl, asking so nice,” Tess praises as she begins to knead wide circles against your clit.

The noise you make is quieted by Joel’s lips returning to yours. His hand moves further up your throat as Tess’s circles are drawn tighter and firmer. Your nails dig into her arm. You can’t breathe fast enough to keep up with Joel’s kiss so you break from him, panting against his cheek as your eyes drift shut.

Tess dips a finger into you.

“Yes,” You gasp.

“Yeah? You want my fingers?” She asks.

“Y-Yes!” You repeat.

“Have to stretch this pretty pussy out, get you ready to take Joel’s cock,” She muses.

You open your eyes and find Joel just watching you from inches away. You look at him and he drinks in every detail of your face as Tess slides two fingers into you. 

“Fuck,” you moan.

Tess works her fingers inside you and Joel begins kissing down your neck, moving himself down your body. His mouth sucks bruises across your collarbone and he slides his hand down to your breast. He licks your nipple into his mouth as Tess curls her fingers.

You can’t even make sound, the air in your lungs frozen and tension seizing your body.

“She likes that,” Tess observed with a knowing smile, “Tightened up on me real nice.”

Joel repeats the motion, adding a circle with his tongue. You weave your fingers through his silver hair.

“Oh god,” You choke.

Tess picks up the pace of her strokes and you can feel pressure start to grow in your hips. 

“Look how close you are already,” Tess chuckles, “Such a perfect little slut.”

“Tess!” You cry out, your hand scrabbling for something to grab. You end up gripping the sheets above your head. 

“Wanna taste you while you cum,” Tess says as she repositions herself to be between your legs, her fingers never leaving you.

She continues to stroke inside you when her mouth finds your clit. 

“Mommy!” The whimper escapes you. 

You can hear a small laugh from Tess against you and Joel lets go of your nipple, his smirking face appearing above you. 

“So that’s who we are, huh?” Joel teases. His voice gets impossibly lower, his lips brushing against your ear. “Say my name,” he demands in a whisper.

You can’t get the words out, paralyzed by the swirling storm of Tess’s fingers and humiliation. 

“Say. It.” His fingers lace into your hair and twist hard. 

“Daddy!”

“Good girl,” he coos. “You gonna cum for us? Go ahead. Cum all over Mommy’s fingers.”

The way he mocks you makes the simmering beneath your skin burn into a full blaze. Tess takes your clit into her mouth and sucks.

“Fuck I’m cumming!” 

“There you go, let her taste you,” Joel soothed quietly as you trembled through the high. You grabbed at him helplessly. “That’s it,” He continued softly, “Such a good girl for us. There you go.”

A haze settles over you and you happily lie in it. When your mind finally pulls you away, Tess and Joel kissing above you.

“Fucking delicious,” Joel murmurs.

“Oh my god,” You start to catch your breath. You paw at Tess. “Want you, want to…” You want to thank her, in any way she wants, but the words won’t come out. Instead you reach out and run your hand between her legs. She’s so slick and soft. “Jesus,” you sigh. 

“Making you cum got me all wet,” She looked down at you, grasping your wrist to keep your hand in place. You stroke her slowly. “Now Joel’s gonna fuck you while you clean me up like a good girl, okay?”

You nod, eyes blown wide.

Joel suddenly slides a finger into you and you jolt, letting out a strangled cry.

“Makin’ sure you’re good and stretched for me, darlin’,” He says, inserting a second finger. 

His fingers are thicker than Tess’s and reach deeper. The sensitive spot inside you is easy to find when you’re still in your afterglow. He wastes no time massaging the pads of his fingers over it. 

“Fuck, please,” You beg aimlessly. 

“Needy girl,” He says lowly. His Texas drawl thickens. “Christ, can’t wait to have your tight pussy wrapped around me.” He moves towards the end of the bed and puts your thighs in his lap. He presses his fingers harder against you and it makes another desperate noise fall from your mouth.

You glide a finger into Tess and she hums, reaching out her hand to play with your nipple. 

“Please, want you to sit on my face while he fucks me hard,” You sigh.

“Didn’t know you had it in you to talk like that, sweetheart! Don’t worry,” She promises wickedly, “I will.”

Joel withdraws his hand from you and strokes your sides.

“You ready for me?” He asks.

“Fuck, please, yes,” You nodded fiercely.

He places a palm flat on your stomach as he guides himself into you. You suck in a breath as he groans. The way he fills you feels like the tension of a balloon about to burst, the weighty pressure expanding inside you. Your hands fly up, bracing against his chest and all you can do is emit a small squeak as he sinks further. He pauses there for a moment.

“Doin’ alright, darlin’?” He asks softly.

You just nod, eyes pressed shut.

Tess’s hand brushes down your cheek.

“Breathe,” She reminds you.

You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath. You exhale and let your body relax.

“There you go,” She says.

You put a hand down on Joel’s hip, silently asking him to move. He obliges, slowly pulling back and rolling forward. He gives a couple more thrusts and starts skimming over a spot that makes you gasp.

“Fuck,” He breathes, “You’re taking me so good.”

All at once, the pleasure rises into focus, clear and torrid.

“H-Holy shit,” You stutter, looking down and watching him disappear in you, “Holy shit, that’s–yes.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Tess says, “Joel filling up your pretty little cunt?” 

“Yes!” You nod, reaching for her, tugging weakly on her thighs. “Please, wanna make you cum on my face.”

“You even beg pretty,” She remarked, swinging her leg over to straddle you, facing Joel.

Her wet pussy was practically dripping above you. You wrap your arms around each of her thighs and pull her down to your face. 

You cover as much of her as you can with your mouth and run your tongue from top to bottom. The sound she makes is downright filthy. 

“Fuck I knew your mouth was gonna be perfect,” She said, giving your nipple a pinch and making you squeak again. 

Joel gives a slow, hard thrust. You can hear their lips connecting above you, kissing each other. You wish someone could take a picture. You flick Tess’s clit with your tongue and their kiss breaks with a gasp.

You start working your mouth, alternating between licking her with the flat of your tongue and fucking it into her. She grinds harder on you.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Tess panted, “Just like that.”

Joel was seemingly captivated by burying himself in you as far as he could, his pace easy but deep. The base of his stomach presses on your clit as his cock strokes places in you that you didn’t even know existed. 

You take Tess’s clit into your mouth and flick your tongue over it as you suck.

“Right there! Don’t stop!” Tess commands.

You keep up despite becoming progressively more distracted. The noises she makes intensifies how sensitive you are to Joel. The muscles in your hips twitch as you try to keep them still. 

You focus in on finishing Tess off, dying to know what she sounds like when she falls apart and gunning for her praise. 

“You gonna cum?” Joel nearly taunts her, “You gonna cum all over her face while I fuck her good?”

You and Tess both moan in response.

She cums with her breath held for a moment before she cries out swears and your name. She keeps riding your mouth until she’s satisfied. She pulls away and without her pussy pressed against your mouth, the noises you’re making begin to escape. Joel was fucking you so slowly you could cry.

“What do you think?” Joel asked Tess, “Does our girl deserve a reward?”

“Definitely,” Tess nods, crawling back to be at your side, mouth connecting with your neck.

“Please,” You respond, rolling your head to give Tess a broader canvas and clutching Joel’s waist.

“You loved Tess sitting on your face, didn’t you?” Joel questioned, picking up his speed, “Had you gripping me so hard.”

“Dreamt about it,” You confessed in between heavy breaths.

“Oh really?” He prodded, “You touch yourself when you wake up?”

“Uhuh,” You nod. 

“What else?” Tess asked.

You couldn’t answer–you were getting too close to speak. Joel suddenly dropped his pace.

“What else?” He repeated the demand.

“D-Dreamed you finger fucked me t-till I soaked the bed!” You stutter, desperate for him to speed back up.

“Christ, you are just a perfect slut,” He panted, setting an even faster rhythm, “Waking up already soaked for us.”

Tess rakes her hands across your chest, thumbs circling around your nipples.

“Fuck!” The glow inside you was heating up, sharp flashes of electricity buzzing down your thighs. You can’t keep your hips still, pushing back to get every bit of him you can. “Please, please!”

“Use your words,” Joel warned.

“Fuck, I–touch me!” You blindly grab at Tess. One of her hands reaches down, rolling over your clit and you realize she’s touching herself with the other.

“Fuck,” You moan, seeing her fingers working between her legs. The noises coming from her and Joel send a hot flush of need over you.

“Close again, huh?” He strained, pounding into you harder, “I know you have one more for us.”

“Yes! Yes!”

“That’s a good girl,” He drawled, “Come on, darlin’, I got you. Want both of you to cum.”

“Joel!” You cry. 

“That’s not what you were calling me earlier, was it?” He said through gritted teeth.

“Daddy!”

You feel the ripple starting, multiplying and spreading, pressure flowing through you. You pull back just enough that Joel slips out of you as you start making a mess of his lap and the sheets.

“Good girl, there it is. Cum on my dick, that’s a good girl,” He grinds out the words, pumping his cock in his fist. “Fuck, that’s it, fuck,” A strangled noise caught in his throat as wet stripes hit your stomach and Tess lurches forward with a moan.

The ripples begin to space themselves out, becoming soft pulses. When your mind starts to clear, you feel a warm cloth gently wiping across your stomach. You hear Tess’s voice next to you and, to your horror, your own soft whines too. 

“Did so good for us,” She says softly, a light touch stroking down your arm, “Such a good girl.”

You take a breath to quiet yourself. You can’t quite keep still, your legs a bit restless. 

The bed sinks next to you and you roll your head, finding Joel.

“There you are, darlin’,” He chuckled, smoothing back some of the hair sticking to your damp forehead.

“Holy fuck,” You murmur.

Both of them laugh.

“Holy fuck,” Tess nods with a smile.

Joel presses a kiss to your temple.

“Such a pretty thing.”

[nanawritesit]

Your First Kiss with Itzy 💋

tw: kissing before dating, yeji’s is slightly angsty (inspired by the first kiss in heartstopper,) eating food (lia,) laser tag w/ guns (ryujin,) playful wrestling (chaeryeong,) sharing a bed (yuna)

Yeji:

You paced back and forth across your bedroom as the rain pounded against your window. You barely got any sleep the night before. Every time you started to drift off to sleep, your brain would remind you of that highly embarrassing moment you just experienced.

You were at a party with your crush, Yeji. You both got tired of the loud music and crowded dance floor, so you decided to find an empty room upstairs and take a breather together. There was undeniable chemistry between the two of you as you flirtatiously bantered back and forth. At one point, it got kind of quiet, and with the way she was looking at you, you thought it would be the right moment to kiss her. You were both leaning in slowly, about to connect your lips, when someone knocked on the door looking for her.

“I… I should go…” she told you. You nodded apologetically, and once she was gone, you threw your head in your hands to have a good cry.

When she didn’t text you later that night to ask where you went, you figured she was avoiding you. You must have misread the situation. She was probably just going to kiss you back out of pity. You felt so stupid and gross. You really thought you had lost her forever.

“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” your roommate said from your doorway.

You jumped at the sudden intrusion, but nodded as if to give them permission to come in. Your roommate stepped back and held out their arm for your visitor. You gasped as Yeji suddenly appeared in front of you, soaked from the rain. Part of you was relieved, and the other part wanted to throw up from anxiety.

“I’ll let you guys talk…” your roommate mumbled, excusing themselves. They immediately understood the vibe in the room, since you had spent most of last night crying to them about what happened between you and Yeji.

You waved goodbye to them, shutting your bedroom door as they left. You turned back around to face Yeji.

“You didn’t bring an umbrella?” you asked with an awkward chuckle.

“I was in a rush to come see you.” she explained. Her hair and clothes were dripping wet, she was bare faced, and her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold air. It was the most beautiful you had ever seen her, which made this hurt so much more.

You swallowed hard, then exhaled to begin your spiel. “Yeji, I’m so sorry about last night. I came on too strong and I should’ve read the situation better.”

“Y/N…” she tried to interrupt, stepping closer to you.

“No, you deserve an apology. I know you probably just kissed me back out of pity.”

“Y/N.”

“And if you never want to talk to me or see me again I totally understand. I wouldn’t want to be associated with me either.”

“Y/N.”

“I completely regret what I did and I’m so-“

You never got to finish that sentence, because Yeji pulled you in by the collar of your shift and crashed her lips against yours. Your eyes widened at first, but once you registered what was happening, they closed and you melted into her touch. This was all you had ever wanted. Her lips were wet from the rain, your hands were on her damp shoulders, and you could feel her cold hands slightly warming up on your waist as the kiss went on. Finally, she pulled back and looked at you with a satisfied smile.

“That was a really nice way of telling me to shut up.” you practically whispered, a relieved smile on your face.

She giggled shyly. “I wanted to kiss you last night, I really did. I just thought the moment was ruined when Ryujin knocked on the door. I tried to find you at the party, but you were just gone, which I understood. I really should have texted you last night, but I was just so overwhelmed and exhausted. I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your arms up behind her neck.”It’s okay. You made up for it.”

She grinned gratefully, tilting her head to kiss you again. It was shorter this time, but just as sweet.

You pulled back, happier than ever. “Alright, let’s get you some warm, dry clothes.”

Lia:

You and Lia had been seeing each other for about a month now. You weren’t quite exclusive yet, but you both really liked each other and hung out quite a bit. You hadn’t gotten more intimate than holding hands and cuddling, but something you recently started doing was giving each other kisses on the cheek.

You were taking a walk in the park together, when suddenly she spotted an ice cream truck. You could see how her face lit up at the sight of it, and asked if she wanted to get some. She nodded sheepishly, and you told her you’d get some while she found you a nice place to sit.

“Alright, I got your favorite! Two scoops of strawberry with rainbow sprinkles!” you beamed as you met her on the park bench.

“Awh, thank you so much!” she beamed, taking it from you gratefully.

You smiled brightly as you sat down next to her, gaze fixed upon her. She just looked so precious, licking up the ice cream that threatened to drip off the cone, holding it with both hands as the sun made her golden hair and pink cheeks practically glow. You couldn’t help yourself, and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.

“What did you get-“ she began, turning her head towards you. She was cut off by her lips pressing up against yours, making both your eyes widen.

You quickly pulled away and began apologizing profusely. “Ah I’m sorry! I meant to kiss you on the cheek, but you just turned your head right before I could!”

“It’s okay, Y/N!” she giggled, placing a hand over yours. “To be honest, I’ve been wanting to kiss you on the lips for a while now, but I’m just way too shy to initiate it.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, placing a hand over your chest. “Oh thank goodness, I thought I just totally ruined this whole thing…”

“Speaking of which… what is ‘this whole thing?’” she asked suddenly. You met her eyes, which were sparkling with curiosity.

“Well, we’ve reached the age old ‘what are we’ conversation…” you chuckled anxiously. “I wouldn’t mind calling you my girlfriend, but I understand if you’re not ready to be exclusive just yet.”

She tapped her chin with her pointer finger, pursing her lips to playfully exaggerate her thoughtful expression. “Hm, well since we just had our first kiss, I think I have to be your girlfriend now.”

You laughed, lacing your fingers with hers. “You don’t have to do anything, but I appreciate the traditional mindset.” you joked.

“Well, I don’t have to do this either.” She gingerly placed a hand on your cheek and tilted her head to curve her lips into yours, on purpose this time. Your eyelids fluttered shut, indulging in the feeling of her lips on yours for a moment before you cautiously brought a hand up to her waist. It was sweet, and tasted like strawberries, and you didn’t want it to ever end. However, you had to pull back eventually, smiling at each other bashfully.

You put your free hand over hers, which was still on your cheek, and gave her a cheshire-cat-like grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be shy?”

Ryujin:

You both were at a laser tag place with all your friends, and things were getting intense. Hyunjin and Jiu had gone rogue and started a guerrilla warfare attack on everyone, and Bella and Heejin were trying to take them down. You were just trying your best to avoid being tagged, running from one hiding place to the other in a chaotic frenzy.

Suddenly, you heard a march of footsteps. Scared of being attacked, you made a run for it clear across the room. It was a risky move, but better than standing like a deer in the headlights. Just as you were about to reach the most vulnerable spot however, a hand gripped your wrist and pulled you down into a tunnel.

“Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten killed!” your rescuer yelled. It was a bit dark, but you immediately recognized it as Ryujin. She seemed to be the only other sane person in your group.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” you explained, breathing heavily from the exertion. “I thought someone was after me.”

She rolled her eyes with a chuckle. “They tried that tactic on me too. They must be getting desperate and wanting to take us as ransom.”

You laughed along with her, resting your back against the wall. “Thanks for saving my hide.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” she winked.

“Ugh, don’t be so greasy…” you cringe-laughed, hitting her on the arm playfully.

“What, you don’t like my flirting?” she mused, feigning shock and betrayal.

“I never said that.” you dared, turning towards her with your arms crossed as to mirror her. “I only meant, if you’re going to flirt with me, do it right.”

She gave you a small smirk, then inched closer to you. She began to brush your hair behind your ear and fiddle with the ends.

“I like what you did with your hair today. It’s really cute.” she complimented you in a low, husky voice.

You gulped. There was always a spark between you and Ryujin, but nothing had ever seem to come of it. You figured she was just flirty with everyone. However, you noticed she never went as far with Jiu or Bella, and Hyunjin and Heejin never flirted back with her. You guys definitely had a special dynamic. You just never knew what to call it. But it seemed like you would gain an answer soon enough.

“You’re a really beautiful girl/guy/person, you know that, right?” she asked rhetorically, eyes tracing over your features admiringly.

She brought a hand up to your cheek, turning your head from side to side as if examining you. “Such bright, sparkly eyes… a cute little nose….” Her gaze was fixed on your lips. “And don’t even get me started on those pretty lips. I’d kiss them, but… I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

She leaned forward, making you jut your head forward expectantly. Your eyes were about to flutter shut, when she suddenly pulled back.

“How was that?” she teased with a shit-eating grin.

You scoffed offendedly. “Ugh, I hate you Ryujin!”

She raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

You thought to yourself for a second about how you should match her energy. Then, without any warning, you threw a hand behind her neck and pulled her down to crash your lips against hers.

Her eyes gouged out of her head in shock, and she was frozen in place. You pressed your lips to hers for a few seconds, then pulled away with a satisfied smirk. However, soon after, her eyes darkened, and she was looking at you like she absolutely needed more of you. You looked at her hungrily, then dove in for another kiss. She was happy to meet you halfway, hands slipping around your waist to pull you closer.

Buzz!

“Ha! You guys are out!” someone screamed triumphantly.

You both whipped your heads around to see Jiu and Heejin standing at the entrance of the tunnel, guns in hand.

“You guys aren’t even on the same team!” you exclaimed frustratedly.

“We switched partners.” Jiu explained. “I can’t trust Hyunjin anymore.”

“Come on, I think I saw Bella across the room!” Heejin proposed, tugging Jiu away.

You and Ryujin both turned to each other in disbelief. Not only had you just had your first kiss, but you had lost laser tag.

“Well… you wanna go get a pizza and pick up where we left off?” she suggested, a pleasant smile on her face.

“I’d like that.” you told her. You held out your hand, and she took it, leading you both to the exit.

“Do you think they saw us kissing?”

“Who cares, they’re way too invested in the game anyway.”

Chaeryeong:

“Give it back Chae!” you demanded, lunging forward. She quickly jumped out of your trajectory, making you fall face first into the sofa cushion.

“No way! You’ve been keeping your crush a secret from me this whole time, and I’m gonna find out who it is one way or another!” she retaliated, clutching your phone to her chest.

“You can’t!” you pleaded, fumbling around like bambi on ice until you were back on your feet to chase after her.

The two of you were just hanging out at your apartment, waiting for the rest of the girls to show up so you could go out to dinner. However, Chaeryeong had just brought up the fact that Yeji told her you had confessed who your mystery crush was to her over text last night. You of course got defensive, because she was your crush. There was no way she could find out. And Chae being herself, promptly swiped your phone out of your hand and ran off with it.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” she teased, waving your phone around in the air.

You began chasing each other around your living room, ducking and diving past each other. Having no other escape, she hopped onto the coffee table for a vertical advantage, holding your phone up on the air. You tried jumping for it, but it was just too high up. Seeing no other option, you scooped her up in your arms and slammed her down on the couch.

“Give me my phone!” you ordered, pinning her down by her shoulders.

She had it caged between her hands in a tight grasp, refusing to let go. “No! Not until you tell me who your crush is!”

You tried prying her hands open, but she was just too strong. You feigned a defeated sigh, sitting up slightly.

“Fine. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice.” Then, without warning, you began relentlessly tickling her sides.

“No, Y/N, stop!” she pleaded, laughing uncontrollably. She began to squirm and kick her legs to no avail.

You couldn’t help the amused smile that made its way onto your face. “I’ll stop when you give me back my phone!”

With her growing weaker by the second, you finally managed to pry your phone out of her hands, tucking it into your back pocket. Still pinning her down, you loomed overtop of her victoriously.

She suddenly looked up at you with these huge doe eyes, and you realized just how tangled up the two of you were. Legs and arms a mess, sprawled out over the couch, clutching onto each other so you wouldn’t fall off…

You were both panting from the excursion, chests forced up against each other. You glanced down at her lips, which were plump and slightly parted. They seemed to be aching for you to kiss them, and her eyes were practically begging you to. In this moment, it felt right to lean down and brush your lips against hers, so you did. You must have been right, because she pushed her head up the tiniest bit to meet you in the middle.

The kiss was soft and innocent, your lips barely pressed against each others, but just enough to where you could feel each others’ longing. Through her lips, you could feel all of her, and how she wanted this just as much as you did.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless, staring at each other with wide eyes and parted lips.

“I guess I know who your crush is now.” she grinned triumphantly.

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning down to kiss her again. “You’re such a dork.”

Yuna:

The two of you were hanging out at her place, eating pizza and watching the new episode of the drama you were currently watching together. It was becoming a weekly occurrence, and you would usually sleep over afterward. She insisted on you taking her bed, making herself a little blanket fort on the floor. However, right now you were both on the bed, her head resting on your shoulder as you watched the tv.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, he kissed her!” you squealed at the scene playing out. The main couple had finally gotten together.

“What’s the big deal?” Yuna asked apathetically, glancing up at you.

“What do you mean? They’re kissing!” you exclaimed, hands held out in front of you in exaggeration.

“I just don’t get why kissing is such a huge milestone.” she sighed. “I mean, if you really think about it, it’s just two people smashing their lips against one another. It’s kind of weird.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Wow Yuna, you’d think you’d have never been kissed before with the way you’re talking.”

She just sat their in silence, gaze shifting over to the other side of the room.

You gasped, sitting up. “Oh my gosh, have you never been kissed before?”

“Shut up!” she whined, pushing you playfully. “It’s embarrassing enough already to not have been kissed by the time you’re 19, you don’t need to rub it in!”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Yuna…” you reassured her. “You debuted as a 15 year old, and your company was probably really strict on dating rumors. It makes sense that you haven’t really had the opportunity to kiss anyone.”

“Yeah, but still… it’s been almost four years since we debuted, and it still hasn’t happenend…” she huffed, pouting slightly. “Like… what if something’s wrong with me?”

“Yuna, there is nothing wrong with you!” you giggled, grabbing her hands. “You’re perfectly fine. There’s plenty of people who would kill for the chance to kiss you.”

She laughed along with you, then squeezed your hands. “Thanks Y/N. It’s just…”

You looked at her comfortingly. “Yes, what is it?”

She looked down at her lap anxiously before meeting your eyes once again. “Can you be my first kiss?”

You were taken aback at the proposition. I mean, obviously you would love to kiss your beautiful best friend. But what if this changed you mr relationship forever?

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” she quickly explained. “I just…. want my first kiss to be with someone I trust, you know? Someone who could give me honest feedback.” She leaned forward to look up at you with sparkling eyes. “Please?”

You gulped, blinking a few times. I mean, how could you refuse when she asked so nicely?”

“Okay, I’ll do it.” you told her, straightening up your posture. You cautiously placed your hands on the sides of her face, prompting her to lift her chin up. You inhaled one last time, gathering your courage, and slowly leaned to down to graze her lips softly.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, and after a little while she was melting into the kiss, placing her arms up around your neck. The two of you crashed your lips against each other a few times, poking your tongue between your lips every now and again to wet them. Her hand went up into your hair to tug at the nape, and yours traveled down to rest on her lower back, feeling the bare skin under her crop top. Your chests were pressed against one another, making it easy to feel each others’ rapid heartbeats.

Before things got too steamy, you pulled back, releasing her lips from yours. Her eyes stayed close for a second, but opened again momentarily.

“Wow…” she breathed with the tiniest smile. “I totally understand why kissing is such a big deal.”

“Yeah?” you chuckled airily, still catching your breath. “You’re not disappointed at all?”

She shook her head. “Not in the slightest.”

You nodded, eyes shifting around the room awkwardly. “Um, it’s getting late isn’t it?”

“Yeah, we should probably go to bed!” she agreed, obviously happy to change the subject. She hopped off the bed to get comfortable in her little blanket fort. You both silently curled up into your sleeping positions, ignoring the obvious tension.

“Yuna?” you finally asked before turning the lights off.

“Hm?” she chirped, a satisfied smirk evident on her features.

“Do you wanna sleep up here tonight?”

She happily bounced up from her spot on the floor and under the covers with you, cuddling up to your side. You clicked the lights off and put an arm around her waist, trying hard not to think about how good she smelled, or how your heart was racing, or how warm your cheeks were getting. Maybe this had changed your friendship, but it seemed to be changing in a way that you both liked.

[winterlogysblog]

Nasiens and Kiane Parallels

So... there's this post that made me want to reread 7ds and 4kota solely for the purpose of finding parallels between Nasiens and Kiane and I found some.

Popped Collars

This may just be a coincidence since there are multiple characters that has popped collars in their outfit designs but there is something I found interesting here.

There have been four Nasiens drips so far. We have his initial drip, the one that Anne gave them, the one that the crew got from Liones, and his time-skip drip. Out of those four, there are two that have popped collars. His initial design and his time-skip outfit.

We saw him wear this specific design motif in his home and homeland.

Looking back in 7ds, after King got his full wings and his outfit design changed, he has a popped collar. Even in the two different designs Nakaba gave him in 4kota he kept that popped collar

When Diane had her outfit change in Season 3 she wore something with a popped collar and her current outfit has a popped collar as well.

Oh and guess who also has popped collars

The Rock Throwing

Pretty self-explanatory. I don't need to explain

The length of Nasiens' pants

Again... maybe this is just a coincidence.

In a sense, King's pants make sense design-wise. His Sin tattoo is just right above his ankle so in order to show it his pants need to look the way it does.

In total, there have been three instances where Nasiens's pants stops right below his knee, just like King's.

Condensed Power

This is the part where I may just be looking too hard into things but like... the way Nasiens does this just has the same vibes as Condensed Power. You know that thing that King did that one time that essentially thought Meliodas Trillion Dark, yeah that.

Nasiens and King are first introduced with an antagonist-type energy

The first time King shows up is when Gilthunder is talking to him about the other Sin's movements, there's an implication that they are working together and since at the time Gilthunder is already established as an antagonist the idea of King possibly being an antagonist too is placed.

These two panels are the only ones actually shown in the anime. A post-credit scene too and in the manga there's more to it. King seems independent, and he has his own motives and doesn't want anyone getting in his way. If anything this shows King as a potential threat to both the Holy Knights and the Sins.

Then, the first thing King did was try to kill Ban so yeah.

In Nasiens' case, the fairies of the Gorge hyped him up to be a bad guy and his appearance and actions matched this.

We first met Nasiens and Diane in some type of Foresty place

Forest of White Dreams and Echo Gorge