#inkling is because you should be grateful for what you have because there are others who don't have it

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: ikkan.... You still awake?

Ikkan: mmmmm I am now

Neta: Oh I'm sorry. I'll tell you when we get home

Ikkan: I'm already awake now. You can just tell me...... Is something wrong? You've been fidgety this whole day

Neta: No there's nothing wrong I just I just have stuff in my mind.. is all

Ikkan: mmm............ Come here......

Neta: ok.......*sigh* this is nice.... You should get a chest tattoo. Maybe something that It goes with your scars. Maybe like vines or something plant related. You've been really good with your plants lately it's impressive

Ikkan: That's something to think about. What's on your mind?

Neta: I've been thinking do we get married after you graduate and we move or do we get married before so we don't have to plan anything and just settle down and adjust?

Ikkan:................................................................. um I don't know. I didn't really think about that........ I didn't really think about marriage. Haven't thought about that since we .........hm... Did my mom say something to you?

Neta: yeah she did.......I do want to get married. Do sill you want to get married?

Ikkan:........... Yeah. I do want to be married, but right now I think we should just focus on our lives. You deal with your store and me, with everything going on. I think we can put wedding planning on hold for now but I do. I do think we should renew our engagement.

Neta: that's good. I'd thought you'd say no

Ikkan: why would you think I would say no?

Neta: I don't know. I just get into my own head sometimes. I remembered moments when I was a lot to deal with. I don't think you'd want to deal with that the rest of your life.....not with me

Ikkan: That's not true. I would gladly live with you, be with you and love you through every moment of your life. Including the bad moments.... [Kiss].... Besides, I have bad moments too and you deal with me...... Remember when I couldn't find my guitar pick and just completely melted down... and I didn't speak for two days.......you stayed, most people wouldn't stay when I'm like that.... A lot people didn't

Neta: that's different.... Those are one time things and it could be preventable most of the time..... You just had a bad day.... When I have a bad day that extends to a week and then a month and so on............ That doesn't sound like a good life to share with someone. It doesn't seem like it's worth it. {Taka: it's not worth it... You're not worth it}

Ikkan: It is... It is worth it. You're kind, you're generous, you're attentive, you're nurturing, funny, smart........ You have pretty eyes.....[kiss]..... It's a good life...... You're giving me the best life Neta and I'm happy that I'm living this life with you.... You've change so much.

Neta: yeah like physically... Mostly just looks

Ikkan: no.... well yes,... But your physical changes also came along with a lot of other changes......More mature in a way. More vulnerable and affectionate. You're more calm, less angry when frustrated. Not on edge like you used to.....*sigh*....You let your guard down a little that a good thing..... You weren't like that when we met.... Or when we were first engaged..... I think at that time it wasn't the right time. I don't think you were ready. Honestly neither was I...... I think this time.... This time right now I think we're both ready for this kind of commitment

Neta: so It's a yes... Ikkan... Will you marry me?

Ikkan: hehehehe.. yes... I will marry you.... hehehe

Neta: yesss.... [Kiss] [kiss]... We're back...... [Kisskissksskiss]

Ikkan: Neta! Heheheheh stop! Hehehe

Neta: hehehe.....*sigh*...... Maybe I should have waited...

Ikkan: why?

Neta: I have this whole thing planned.... Where I was going to give you back your bass and tell you that I didn't want it anymore and you were going to ask why and I was going to explain that I didn't need it anymore because I played it when you were away.... and when I started to miss you but now that you're back in my life and it was this whole thing-

Ikkan: why don't we just forget that we had this conversation.... We go home and you get to do your little planned out proposal... Okay?

Neta: yeah..... That's a good idea....*yawn*..... We need to go to sleep........ Our flight is in the morning.........*snoring*

Ikkan: hehe how do you fall asleep so fast?... [Kiss]...

Next day

Mahi: you think it's weird that we're still at his place?... Maybe we should have went home.

Warabi: why? our whole side of the city including The mall's power is out... The hottest day of the year no less.... I'm telling you that zapfish is on its last leg..... That thing has been powering our city before it even was a city. When my grandfather was my age That's pretty old.

Mahi: yeah.... They live quite a long time and it's only 100 and what 5 years old? I'm pretty sure it can like live for maybe another 100 years

Warabi: their life span is 200 something. That's half of their lifespan gone. They're also powering underground life too. the war is over everyone has free power source. It's not just surface dwellers anymore.....

Mahi: They're going to have to get another one.. maybe a younger one..

Warabi: I'm not not one for making predictions, but I feel like this might be the first time inkling and the octarian military are going to have to work together and-oh shit hide hide hide

Mahi: *oof*

Neta: home at last! my own food and my own bed..........*gurgle*....... And my own toilet..... Brb baby.

Ikkan: where's my Nibbles! Nibbles! You miss Daddy??..... nibbles! what did I tell you about jumping on the counter! Come here!

Mahi:..............

Warabi:......... Shhhhhhh.... crawl to the bedroom when Neta leaves

Mahi: ok....... They left the front door unlocked

Ikkan:.. .. Babe did you eat my walnut shrimp!? That's been in there for a week before we even left!! ....... See this is why you're in the bathroom now. You just eat shit you shouldn't and then you pay the con-.......hehehe what are you doing?

Neta: I'm giving you back your bass... I don't need it anymore

Ikkan:...... heheh... Why I thought you wanted my bass.

Neta: I did. I used to play it all the time when you weren't here when I started to miss you. It was during a time when It was a lot harder for us to be in each other's lives.... When I played it I realize that I didn't want you to just be a little glimpse in my life. I want you to be a part of it . I want to be a part of yours...... I love you..... I-I don't really have words to describe my feelings for you. I just know that when I'm around you.... I feel safe and secure and wanted....... I didn't want to cry... *Sniff*.....I never thought I would get to this point......... where I'm actually happy..... Truly happy and I don't think I would have gotten there if I didn't meet you....... That's why I want you to have your bass back....... I don't need to keep with me all the time, it'll always be there when I need it like you. if willing?

Ikkan: if willing what?

Neta: if you're willing to marry. Ikkan......... Will you marry me?

Warabi: *gasp*

Mahi: *silent screaming*

Ikkan: hehehehe...... yes .... I will marry you

Neta: hahahaha yes! Nailed it! Hahahah [kisskissksskiss]

Ikkan: hehehe Neta!..... Cut it out! Hehe...............

Neta:................................

Ikkan:.............................

Ikkan and Neta: [kiss]

Warabi: aw....so sweet

Ikkan........*moan*....

Warabi: oh.... uhh

Mahi: we need to go NOW. They're not looking go.. gogogogogogo..... Before it gets worse..... Gogogo

Warabi:........ Oh my Cod........ Can't believe they didn't notice this!

Mahi:.......... Hahahahahahaha!

Warabi:....... hahahahahahaha!

Mahi: let's go. This was...... Wow!

Warabi: you think that the new rice place is open?... I heard it's good.

Mahi: let's just hope. The power is on over there...... You ate two week old shrimp by the way.

Warabi: but it tasted like one week...

Mahi put together with rubber bands and silly putty by @fish-at-fish-fish-resort

[lovemouche]

lovesick all over my bed ౨ৎ

satoru x fem reader

18+ / mdni

It was never meant to end up like this.

Satoru had stated the boundary of no strings attached prior to entangling himself with you — metaphorically and, quite literally too. The relationship was meant to start and end with physicality only. That was the one rule he made sure to implement for himself. That was where he drew the line. 

"Y-yes. right there. Please."

And yet, these days, he's been finding himself caught in the cavern of a predicament, worn down to the point where he can't think of much, besides tangled limbs and open mouthed kisses, hot and wet as he'd breathe heavily against your form. Worn down to the point where he can't think of anything else besides you. 

Even now, as you lay underneath him, needy and bare, shaped like a deity, challenging the outline of divinity, he's still thinking of you. Always.

And it's driving him crazy, consuming every waking thought of his. Because he just doesn't know how it all led up to this. Satoru can't fathom how an inkling of affection he dismissed as nothing more than a momentary impulse burgeoned into something more profound. Into something so alarming. Into—

No. 

No. No. No.

No. He doesn't want to name the emotion just yet. He can't. Labelling it just solidifies his fear into truth, and the prospect that the feeling blossoming inside his chest aligns with what he’d dreaded feeling the most crosses every boundary he had set for himself. 

Love, the most twisted curse of all. 

"Ah, Satoru—"

The call of his name drags him out of his reverie. It's whispered softly against his skin, flushed as he clings to you desperately, secure enough to hold you in place, but never too much to hurt you. 

"Yeah?" he asks tentatively, his movements being put to a pause. After loosening his grip around your body, he shifts the bend of legs on the mattress to keep his weight from overwhelming you. "You okay, princess?" 

His hand travels from the curve of your waist to trace the outline of your jaw, carefully and, much too lovingly for someone who's only meant to use you for emotional release. "Does anything hurt?" he asks, thumbing the apple of your cheek with gentle strokes, noticing how you shiver under the touch. 

You shake your head, but it's not enough to convince him otherwise; the lack of a verbal response only has his mind flooding with concern even more, especially because you've never stopped him mid-sex. Not once in the entire seven months of your arrangement. 

"Talk to me," he encourages. 

Instinctively, you lay your hand on top of the one toying with your cheek, your fingertips lightly rubbing at his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down. Satoru feels his chest constrict. It's not a big gesture, he knows. But it feels so intimate—so sweet. 

Anyone would assume he would've gotten used to it by now, but even with familiarity and time, everything you do only seems to make his heart race even more. 

He's grateful the dim lights don't manage to catch the flush beginning to spread throughout his features, but he's certain you can feel the way his cock hardens inside you, even if you don't comment on it—which he's also grateful for.

God, he's hopeless. 

The control you have over him is dangerous, he realizes. Part of him wants to pull away before any damage can be done. But the other, bigger part welcomes the peril with open arms. 

"It's just..." you trail off, letting out a sigh of frustration as you try to find the right words. 

"Should I pull out?" 

"No," you huff, tone authoritative. Out of reflex, your legs tighten around him, thighs caging his waist to keep him in place—because you definitely don't want him to pull out. Not with how good he's filling you up right now. "Just... shut up for now." 

Satoru acquiesces to your request. Despite his reservations, he nods, albeit a bit reluctantly, and makes a testament to his obedience by pretending to zip his mouth up with pinched fingers. 

"You just... seem a little out of it nowadays, like you're distracted. So I wanted to know if you were okay."

You take a brief pause. Satoru waits with bated breath. 

"We're friends too, you know? You can talk to me about these things. It doesn't always have to be sex," you add softly, probing gently to gauge the situation while making sure to leave enough room for him to make the decision to open up. Because really, he doesn't owe you any explanation. 

He doesn't owe you anything at all.

Satoru feels his heart swell, pressing up against his sternum, too big for his chest—everything he feels for you is too much for him to carry. 

I know, he thinks bitterly to himself. That's the problem. I don't want to be your friend anymore. 

But he doesn't want to lose you either, and he knows that if he let the dam break, if he let loose every emotion he's been struggling to keep at bay, he'd only ruin everything. 

He'd lose you. And he'd lose himself in the process.

So Satoru parries your question with ease, because honesty isn't his forte—both towards you and himself. 

"Nothing's wrong," he insists, raising an arm to pin your hand up against the bedsheet, intertwining your fingers with his. "Don't worry." 

Resting his forehead on top of your sweat kissed one, he resumes his movements languidly. "Just...just focus on how good I'm making you feel, o—oh—okay?" 

He trips on his words at the sensation of being sucked in and out of your sweet cunt, and he prays—god, he prays—that the feeling of being inside you is enough to compensate for not having you entirely, even if just for a moment. 

But it's not enough, and Satoru can't help but feel that it never will be. 

He slides in and out of you, his desire heavy. And you moan in response, chest rising from the laboured breaths that follow each sinful thrust, hips gyrating automatically to match his pace. 

And it feels good. It feels so fucking good. But the pleasure isn't enough to cloud his senses and dispel his anxiety. Because he's looking at you and his heart is already tugging at its seams. And Satoru feels helpless. 

And he's not sure what it is—if it's the high that ensues being wrapped around your tight walls, or the way you fit so perfectly against him, as if you were made to be held by him, as if he was made just to hold you—but something about tonight has him desperate for more than just late night messages that lead to loveless fucking. 

Something about tonight has him desperate for all of you. Mind and body, heart and soul. 

The notion is heady, and the revelation steals his breath. It roots itself inside his chest and demands his attention, aching to be acknowledged. 

He's so caught up in his head, so lost in thought that he doesn't even register the fact that his movements have been put to a halt and his cock has stilled inside you. Not until you press a shaky palm to his chest in worry.

"Hey," you breathe out. "What's wrong?"

Satoru has to bite his tongue to refrain from telling you that: everything is. There are so many things he wants to tell you, but he's scared it'll poison every next moment. He's scared he'll lose you in the only way he knows he can have you. 

Everything is wrong, he wants to say.

Instead, he stays quiet. 

There an ugly feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach. He wants, so badly, to say something—anything. But he can't. The only reaction he can offer you is the widening of eyes, and his mouth parting in shock before his lips purse into a disappointed frown.

Being in... fuck he'll name it. Being in love shouldn't indemnify him from acting like an idiot, but love has a way of blurring all reason, all rationality. 

He waits for you to speak again, unwilling to break the silence himself—too afraid of what might follow, too afraid that you've already seen right through him.

And he feels pathetic, of course, for being reduced to such a scattered mess, because he's supposed to be the strongest. And for the most part, he is. He really is. But when it comes to you, he can't seem to live up to that title. When it comes to you, he can't seem to be anything else but yours. 

The yearning—to mean something more to you, to be everything to you—settles in his bones. It's draining his soul. He's standing on the edge of a cliff, left to teeter somewhere in between unbridled emotion and self restraint. It's a precarious position to be placed in, and he's hanging by a mere thread. 

Seconds stretch into what feels like an eternity. The air feels like it's heavy with impending demise, and the silence engulfs him like black tar. It's suffocating, to say the least. Satoru isn't sure if he wants to prolong the moment or get it over with. He feels his heart pound against his chest—that treacherous thing.

So when you finally say something, he breaks.

"Satoru, what's wrong?" 

He falls apart. 

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, voice timid and exceptionally apologetic, head hanging low in refusal to meet your eyes. The sight of him is pitiful; you can't, for the life of you, understand why.

It's strange seeing Satoru in such a vulnerable state. Not because you don't assume he doesn't have his own baggage to carry, but because you never thought he'd be willing to expose this side of himself to you.

It's everything out of the ordinary, like witnessing god crumble at your feet, or having an executioner beg to be pardoned for all his killings.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. Only this time, it feels more resigned, like he's admitting defeat. It almost feels like he's apologising to you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But how could that be? and why would it ever be?

"What? Sat—ah."

Satoru falls slack on top of you, pressing the weight of his body against yours. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, chin moving to rest on your shoulder as he evades your gaze. You feel his hands travel south as he continues whispering a mantra of apologies into your skin.

It's a vain endeavour, trying to lift yourself up to get him to talk to you properly. The grip on your hip keeps you anchored, leaving you no room for anything other than compliance; it's as if he's scared you'll leave if he lets go even for a second.

And honestly, he is. 

"Satoru. Don't be like this please."

"I'm sorry," is all he says. 

"Satoru, look at—"

"No."

"Look at me." 

"I'm an idiot."

"No," you interject. "You are not."

"But I am." It's muffled, his voice. A Little shaky too. "I know I'm an idiot, so don't," he pleads. "Don't look at me. I don't want you to see me right now. I can't." 

"You need to tell me what's wrong."

"You're going to hate me. I'm going to ruin everything."

"How?" 

"I'm sorry."

"Satoru."

"I'm sorry," he repeats, his grip on you tightening, fingernails digging soft crescents into your skin. "I'm sorry; I got too greedy." 

Your eyebrows pinch. 

Satoru can practically feel your confusion, and he wants to die, because you don't get it. You just don't get it. Not at all. Not one bit. Not until he whispers five words that knock all the air out of your lungs:

I love you. I'm sorry.

There's a pregnant pause, hesitant, unsure. And then:

"Wha—what? No. You—you're lying." 

Satoru shakes his head in disagreement, vehemently refusing your claim. 

Lying? How could he ever lie about such a thing? He could feign indifference at most, try to brush past it and let the feeling linger until it subsides. But he can't, and it hasn't, and he's tired of pretending that he doesn't love you anymore. Because he does. He loves you too much to push those feelings away. 

"It's true," he admits. "I—I tried not to... you know? I tried not to—fuck, I'm sorry." 

The confession should have lifted the burden, or at the very least, eased it. But his lips struggle to form words, and his heart ricochets against his ribcage. 

"Look at me," you implore.

"No."

He's certain you must hate him now. That by tomorrow, or tonight even, he'll leave the place—the person—he's associated with home as nothing more than a stranger. 

Even worse, a mistake. 

"Please?" 

But your arms crawl to wrap around his torso, and your legs squeeze around his own in silent reassurance, like you're trying to convey to him that you're not going anywhere. And if that isn't enough to convince him to listen, Satoru doesn't know what is. 

When he finally raises his head, your eyes linger on the contours of his face, studying his crestfallen expression. He's anguished, that's for sure. You just can't wrap your head around the fact that it's probably you who's causing his misery. 

Because Satoru is... well, Satoru—he's the strongest.

So who are you to be able to wreck him this much?

"Do you..." you swallow, still unconvinced, words quieting down to a whisper. "Do you really love me?" 

Without looking at you, Satoru nods. it's not enough of an answer, though. 

"Tell me, please." 

He lets out a slow, shuddering exhale, chest stuttering on his next breath. He's silent for a few seconds, thinking. Until finally, with a slight crack to his voice, he says. "I do." very tremulously. "I love you." 

Which is painful to admit, because he doesn't even know what to do now that it's been said. Satoru's not sure how he can give you something he's never been shown. He's not even sure if he deserves it, or if you'll even want his affection. 

But there's so much of it, so much love growing in his chest that he fears it'll crack his ribs. So he's willing to try, even if it might ruin him in the process, 

He's willing to do anything, so long as it's for you. 

It's as simple as that, really. 

"You're lying. I—you can't be serious."

Well, maybe not really.

"I am." Satoru nods pathetically, like a wounded puppy, like his heart is in tatters because you can't believe him even after he's laid himself so embarrassingly bare like this. "I love you." 

"But you said—"

"I know," Satoru interrupts, and his lips are bowed. "I know. I'm a hypocrite. I got too selfish. But I can't help it anymore, I'm sorry. I love you too much to push these feelings away." 

Satoru feels every muscle in your body go stiff at the admission. You're rendered speechless, once again; hesitant in your words, even more so in your actions. And he feels like he's made a grave mistake, that right then and there, he's ruined everything—he's lost you.

But then the right corner of your mouth quirks, hinting at the faintest of smiles, and an obtrusive feeling of hope sparks within him, fizzling out his nerves like cheap soda. 

"Why would you be sorry?" you scold, flicking his forehead. "The only thing you should be sorry about is worrying me. Do you know how scared I was seeing you go MIA while you were still inside me?"

"I'm still inside," he reminds you. 

You groan. "this is not the time." 

"I know." He frowns, but the tension from earlier is nowhere to be found, and Satoru feels even more at ease now that you've begun playing with his hair, twirling the strands between your fingers. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what else to say." 

"You don't need to say anything else."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"You aren't upset or anything?"

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know." He lowers his head to rest on top of your chest, all watery and emotional, pressing his cheek just above where your heart lies to find solace in the rhythmic pitter patter of beats. "I just expected you'd be mad or... disappointed, you know?" 

"Well I'm not, so don't worry about anything, okay?"

"Okay," he hums.

You don't say anything after that. Neither does he. It's quiet for a while, and you take the time to think while basking in the afterglow of such a raw moment. 

It's all still so surreal. 

You feel like the universe is playing a prank on you, like Satoru's orchestrating a sick, cruel joke to mess with your system. But you're cradling his head in your hand, lovingly tracing arbitrary shapes on his scalp, and you swear you can hear how fast his heart is racing. 

It's in tandem with yours.

And perhaps, that's all that matters. 

Maybe you were an idiot not to have realised it sooner. Maybe you were just in denial too. But it's as clear as day now, and you really can't deny the fact that it has always felt like you and Satoru were made for each other. Because when you take his hand into yours, and it feels like the spaces between your fingers were shaped just to hold him like this, you're certain that it's always been more than just sex. 

"Satoru?"

"Yeah?"

"Me too."

He gives you a quizzical look. You smile.

"I love you too."

[labyrinth-of-her-heart]

braaainnnn vomit because i am dying from growing pains, some ideas go to this one lady i saw on youtube shorts (ty queen) FEM READER, pink is reader thoughts wrote this at 3 in der morning forgive me

thinking about subtle sarcastic reader, especially to the type of man she'd encounter while working in the army. being a civilian and a woman many on base just looked over her, or looked too intensely at certain parts of her. but after months of working she's found her place, she's now respected by those who surround her. but what happens when some higher ups come and visit?

working closely with the 141 was no easy task. going from mundane paperwork to the flurry of movement from a mission was difficult for you to handle, let alone helping them. you'd grown closer to them though, no more bouts of shyness stopping you from being yourself. instead you'd grown in to steady workplace banter with all.

unfortunately today couldn't be one of those days as some ever so important higher ups were holding a meeting with the 141, and since you handle the majority of the paperwork you were so graciously invited to attend. you wished you had a little bit more time to prepare for this. these were important people, who wouldn't be nervous? apart from soap who appeared with a shit-eating grin at your office door, gifting you another surprise meeting. or gaz who could charm any conversation his way a bit too easily, with suave compliments and easy-going humour. don't forget ghost who doesn't even need to look engaged because of his mask, or be expected to speak due to his... unique personality. oh and the captain has been to countless of these meetings, so he can't empathise with you either.

but, one thing you could all agree on is that meetings were incredibly boring. for two reasons mostly. either the attendees were so dense it seemed they hadn't stepped on planet earth before, let alone a military base. or the subject matter was so bland you all wondered why there needed to be a meeting in the first place.

as your heels tapped hastily along the hallway you wondered which it would rather be. arriving barely on time with a tight clutch on haphazardly organised documents and a cup of coffee you opened the door, and had an inkling it wouldn't be any. you were met with two male voices. one high, clipped and plummy, the other harsh and american.

" -- that's what i expected from someone of her- oh hello! nice to finally meet you" the man at the head of the table said. an older, short and stout man with thin wire-rimmed glasses and a black tailored suit. a typical english man in an authoritative position. "ah, sorry i was late you'll have to excuse me. i thought to bring my extra notes, i hope i didn't make you wait long." you replied. "not at all, my colleague mr sullivan and i were discussing stories from our base". your gaze flicked over to what must be the source of the american voice. perfectly gold hair stuck down with copious amounts of gel, paired with lightly tanned skin and a too white smile didn't make it hard to guess. "civilians eh?" the taller man began "don't know what's up with the ones here, especially the woman we were just talki-"

"right" prices deep gravely voice cut over the grating one "we should start the meeting now we're all here". murmurs of agreement filled the room, and so did glances between the 141 that you didn't pick upon. however you did notice they were unusually quiet though you brushed it off, they were probably tired. "gosh where are my manners" the man at the head of the table exclaimed "my name is mr buckton and i'll be leading this meeting." briskly taking a few steps towards you he shook your hand roughly. being polite you attempted to make eye contact, yet his eyes were still looking straight ahead? lingering only on your chest for a moment he then made eye contact with you, a wide grin plastered on his face. "come, your seat is next to mine" he prompted, gesturing you to walk infront of him and take your seat. as you walked infront of him his eyes now travelled further south. a small grimace shared from gaz to soap went undetected by the three sitting at the top of the table. mr buckton at the head, you to his left and then the captain and ghost next to you. opposite was mr sullivan, with gaz then soap next to him. with you all seated the meeting began.

for once the meeting was actually worth being held. despite it not being anything too serious you did well, even with your nerves. you answered questions and expanded in the points of others. as you suggested plans of action mr buckton steadily kept his eyes on you, while mr sullivan constantly scribbled notes down. soon enough the meeting was a breeze. well for about ten minutes. across from you, mr sullivan was very inquisitive about anything you said. asking you to back it up or to show proof. not thinking much of it you obliged. it was a little odd but you knew your stuff and why not show off infront of higher ups? however the sentiment was not shared with the rest of the 141. who even asked for evidence about evidence? they understood wanting clarification on certain things, but it was growing incessant now. you were capable of your job and they knew that - that's why you were there. price especially helped you in the growing awkwardness; his job had never been so easy with you working underneath him. gaz and soap constantly gave eachother questioning glances, not wanting to explicitly speak up if their captain didn't. ghost was pissed he couldn't hide his eyes rolling as well as his scowl behind his balaclava. although they were growing increasingly annoyed the meeting continued, with more ridiculous questions being asked. professionalism was continued with a grim expression for another twenty minutes or so. hardly.

until mr sullivan basically dislocated his back by stretching in his chair with an exaggerated yawn leaving his cavernous mouth. "thought you woulda brought coffee since you kept us waiting for so long, cant believe you didn't make me some fresh". with beady eyes on you he smiled lazily. oh he has to be joking you thought to yourself there's no way this guy is real. play them at their own game. "why would i make more coffee? i've already made some for myself" you smiled sickly back at him back, one that gaz has used on you many times when he's late giving you a report.

the table fell unusually silent again, and that's when you noticed it. the crackling of unease filling the air. sharp eyes from the 141 darted from eachother to you, to mr sullivan and back again. "don't be so mean, i'm literally a dying man" he snarkily replied, eyeing you coolly. "i have urgent needs that need to be taken care of, won't you help?". you felt your cheeks warm at his badly hidden innuendo. he smirked at this, finally affecting you after bugging you the whole bloody meeting. fuck impressing him he's an arsehole.

"well, i'm sure you'll be alright by yourself again. seems it happens a lot." you said back, indifferent. as soon as that left your mouth a strange sharp bark that hastily turned in to a cough came from soap. all heads from the table whipped to look at him. "pardon me" he shakily said with an awfully contained smile. taking a sip of his drink his watery eyes didn't stray from the blank wall above ghosts head.

"let's get back on track hmm?" mr buckton suggested "so cheeky, must be that time of the month". he turned to you with an eyebrow raised with an impish grin.

what. what the actual fuck.

price coughed uncomfortably and turned away. gaz and ghost looked at eachother in disbelief. and soap was finding that wall even more interesting. surely it could not get any worse

"oh you all know what women are like, don't pretend. especially when they're frustrated" mr buckton let out a giggle "you know from work".

you actually spluttered, eyes wide with disbelief. the feeling of unease in the air was now a full crackle of electricity. just as you felt price boiling with anger you grabbed me bucktons hand. if everyone on the table wasn't watching you, they certainly were now

"tell me" you said. mr buckton looked at you shocked, mouth gaping open. "tell me what women are like. you know i've been so airheaded this last week i hardly know my left from my right!". just to amp it up a little you slowly crossed your arms just underneath your chest, accentuating it. "you've explained so much to me this meeting surely you could explain this?"

the 141's eyes grew to the size of saucers, there's no way these two would actually fall for this? right? how are you getting away with this, they thought. at this point mr bucktons and mr sullivans jaws were practically falling off. the latter was sadly the quickest to start talking 'so, when women start-". a smart rap in the door interrupted. a male voice said seriously "emergency call for you mr buckton".

"oh, oh you must excuse us. i have to end this meeting" mr buckton declared "i simply cant miss this". messily shuffling their papers together both men swiftly said their goodbyes to you all. with that they just about made it out the door without tripping over their own legs.

a second passed after the door banged shut before gaz burst out in howls of laughter, clutching his ribs, soon joined by soap who could barely look at the wall for any longer. ghost stared at the door muttering who knows what under his breath and the captain sat there with his gaze fixated on the table mortified. he turned his head to you apologising profusely and asking if you're okay.

you just nodded vaguely and replied "men"

all likes, reblogs and comments are so appreciated!! this is my first time writing something properly so i hope you enjoyed it

[decolonize-the-everything]

Just discovered what "littermate syndrome" is and I'm disgusted with colonizers

Nothing is sacred that threatens their place of power no matter how minor that place is; they can't stand the thought of not being the center of someone else's universe.

I can't imagine the battles they must have in their heads to feel so superior to everything and simultaneously so scared of losing that unnatural belief in superiority that they can't even let dog siblings be around each other. Because even that tiniest inkling of having an actual community with others is a threat to their place of power.

All this oppression to maintain their delicate sense of safety which wouldn't be in danger to begin with if they'd minded their fucking business and just let people be.

Not EVERYTHING is here for them to take.

To make this understandable and maybe even relatable, the way colonizers treat the earth and it's inhabitants is how the worst of men treat women under patriarchy. Theirs for the taking. If a woman- like unclaimed land- is unharmed and still full of potential it's because a man simply hasn't found her and taken that status from her yet. Her freedom entirely dependent on how long she can avoid being seen by someone who wants to brag about owning her and the way he changed her.

If colonizers were just men maybe it wouldn't take so long to understand why colonization and subjugation to this extent, like sexual assault, is so unforgivable.

But thats not the case. So instead of having half the population as allies I have to deal with reading articles about "littermate syndrome" because how else are you going to cope with abandoning your humanity for power while pretending it's "just the way things are"

If it was really 'just the way things are' I don't think they'd need so many rules and cops and laws and states, and even articles about dogs to enforce all those ideas. Colonizers fight their own humanity and try to convince everyone else to hate themselves just as much and then have the audacity to accuse anyone who doesn't of being "uncivilized" and a "savage"

Like how the value of a dog directly correlates to it's trainability.

And all dogs can be trained, right?

Some of them just need more intense training. Sometimes you just need to deprive them of everything and teach them every blessing is a gift their "owner" alone can give, right?

Gotta teach em manners and civility and to be grateful for the blessing of being owned. Cuz imagine if they weren't and they had to survive on your own? Imagine how awful freedom would be, (classic colonizer line).

How dangerous to be on your own, unowned. Could you imagine how much worse the next person would be? Being owned by a nice colonizer is salvation. And you should be lucky because some colonizers... Well the way they treat their property is unthinkable isn't it?

Like what they said to natives after we were upset at being thrust from our land and onto reservations. At least they gave us land, right? According to colonizers it's them we have to thank for electricity and having a pot to piss in anyway. They could've just killed us.

They say the same about Palestinians now. And about prisoners. And they said it during slavery. And they've certainly said it to children who misbehave (act like a child). They say it about dogs. The earth.

Everything could be worse, though, right?

What ungrateful savages we are for not understanding how happy we should be just to be given the gift of the next breath by people who insist on seeing themselves as gods above us like they don't bleed the same color with the same ease as the rest of us.

And boy do they hate being reminded of that

[juniperxyz]

How Windbreaker men would be if they dated women like them

Context: A refresher from the generic trope of grumpy guy x sunshine girl where their lovers share the same traits and personalities as them, causing to bring out something besides their usual behaviour

Pairing: WB men x f!reader

Owen Knight

Wc: 1046 words

Note : 10 reblogs for Vinny version!

M A S T E R L I S T

It's not a surprise the most popular boy's love life had everyone's binoculars glued onto it. And by everyone, this also spanned onto the many foreign fan bases that Light Cavalry's charisma had swooned the hearts of many.

It was a ridiculously large amount, even more ridiculous were those scoops of what sort of woman's heart he captured, a piece at the epicenter of gossip following a rare paparazzi shot of him blushing behind a bouquet of roses.

That triggered another fresh wave of rumors, the intel and scoops almost becoming unbearable for the other members, who were forced to fend off all sorts of creeps in his absence, each revealing themselves as his ‘secret lover’ who ‘truly knew everything about him’.

Though if these self-proclaimed lovers had even an inkling of their idol, they would have realized from the blushing photograph that he hadn't captured a heart, but rather his was captured first.

“Did you like the roses I sent you?”

She sent more than roses, and Owen was grateful she sent over his chauffeur before he collapsed on the zebra crossing, “They're nice.”,he grinned, stifling his gushing for a moment, “Though I've seen better in London.”

“So should I send over a plane ticket next?”,the man rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

“You spoil me too much, remember I'm the man in this relationship?”

“Remember you're my man in this relationship?”,he could pick up that awful smirk in her voice, “I haven't even paid back half of what you've done for me.”

“That's because they're not supposed to be paid for.”,his voice stressed, though joy was bouncing in his eyes as he gazed out the window, “You're supposed to keep quiet and enjoy them. My money looks better on you.”

“Same over here! Money never bought me happiness unless it was spent on you.”,hearing her voice constricted his heart. Part of him urged to remind her that she didn’t need to spend anything, while the other reminded him that her actions were no different from his. Unsurprisingly, the two had found someone who’s love language is the exact same as the other.

“If I was given all the money in the world.”,he dropped the bouquet onto his lap, his forehead pressed against the cool window glass. Only moments ago, the streets were bathed in the warm sunlight, illuminating the dreary shops and pavement into a square of liveliness. The Sun seemed to take a momentary break now, as thick clouds coalesced overhead, casting shadows over his tanned cheeks. “I’d spent all of it on bringing you back.”

Her soft sigh was like music to his ears, a melody so rejuvenating that he yearned to hear it in real life, “If it were up to me, I’d walk over next block and host the match in their hotel reception itself. But oh well.”

“Nonsense, your championship’s the main priority here,”,he reaffirmed, taking a mental note to free up his schedule to watch her live matches, “I’m getting a new TV soon, so make sure to beat these semis. Then,I have something interesting to show off on Live Feed.”

“You and your rotten spoiled tendencies…”,she huffed, and he could hear the eye roll in her voice, “And here I thought my beloved would bless me with words of encouragements.”

“Bring the cup home so I can brag about you.”

“I’ll bring home your body.”

“Bridal style, please!”,he crossed his legs in mock interest, “I don’t mind being carried in your arms, you too need something to brag about.”

“Man, I forget how insufferable you are…”

“You also forget how deeply in love I am with you, to the point only your presence makes me content.”

Silence elapsed in the call, with each person biting back smiles that fought to stretch wide across their faces, “Whe-Where are you headed?”

“What’s gotten you shy all of the sudden?”,he grinned, before frowning as he looked through the front window, “And how am I supposed to know? Didn’t you book this ride for…for….”

Static noises filled the call, but this didn’t register in his mind as he was too occupied with what’s before him, something so bizarre, so unimaginable, that it had his heart swelling in elation.

He stumbled out of the car before the frightened chauffeur could react, his feet taking off instantly, kicking up sand as he raced towards the beach’s shoreline, where the small silhouette of a woman was highlighted by the sunset.

“Hm? It seems you’ve cut my call.”,she swiveled around as she heard footsteps, her phone pressed against her ear, right next to smiling lips, “Or it seems I have faster connection.”

“Y/N!”,the man shrieked joyously, locking his arms around her waist as he embraced her deeply. The woman burrowed her face in his shoulders as he spun her around, the woman's laughter mixing with the strong winds, “Oh, my baby, you came!”

“Yes I did, love.”,she cupped his cheeks, eyes swirling with deep affection and admiration, “I came. For you.”

“For…me?”,his smile slowly morphed into confusion, “But what about the finals?”

“Let’s just say…”,her fingers fiddled with her lanyard that he overlooked, with a bold print stamped at the bottom of the card reading ‘FINALISTS’, ”They agreed to give away the cup at the homes of the final groups. You can thank my charisma for that.”

“I can’t believe it!”,he dropped her gently, hands never leaving her waist, “You’re gonna do your finals here? Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you!”

“Who isn’t?”,she smirked, lifting her shoulders, “I got a long list of admirers everywhere I go!”

“A long list of admirers,”,Owen brought their faces closer, his forehead pressing against her soft skin, “Where I’m standing at the front.”

The nonchalant coolness left her face, replaced with a lovestruck blush that widened her eyes in admiration, “More like fought his way to the front!”

“Brutally.”,he added, eyes squinting in an innocent smile

Though she forever deflects his smooth advances with her playfulness, she failed to deflect his eyes off her abashed smile and reddened cheeks, and she had the whole world's admiration at her feet, yet only swells with pride upon receiving his.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 13

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on the amazing @discoscoob 's concept & bot!

Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelve.

Thirteen.

At the crack of dawn Donaka wakes you with open-mouthed kisses on your neck and his cock stuffing you full. He is careful with you, as careful as he can be, taking you with the steady slowness of breaking waves, and if you didn’t know any better, you almost could have mistaken the way he fucked you for lovemaking. 

“My pretty girl,” he whispers in your hair. “Had to have your sweet little pussy again.” Despite the languid pace its not long before he fills you with hot streams of his cum. 

Afterwards, he smacks you on the ass, telling you, “You’re going to be late for work.” 

You are shocked, but at the same time, grateful for the opportunity to get away from him. You cannot think in his company. He gives you no peace. You frown at him, but slip into the shower without a word. As you leave he calls after you, “This is where you sleep now, y/n. Don’t forget it.” 

He relishes the glare you shoot him across the room, smirking at the challenge in your eyes. “Go on, defy me, bunny. See what happens.”

A tiny growl escapes your throat, your voice refusing to cooperate in forming actual words. 

“What was that?”

“Fine,” you grind out between your teeth, before slipping out the door.

When you join the ranks to receive your tasks for the day, Mrs. Yeung, the chief housekeeper, does not give you a second look. Perhaps she knows where her bread is buttered, and passing judgment on Mr. Mark’s new plaything will not serve her. Mei, however, is shooting you playful looks, and you know you will be interrogated later when she gets you alone. 

What the fuck are you going to say? 

You find yourself contemplating the height of the garden walls, wondering how far you might get should you just scale one and make your way down the road, hop a bus, go to the Embassy on the other side of the island. However, you’re sure Donaka is watching through his cameras. The dark little eyes tucked up in the corners of the rooms and outside never seemed so sinister before as they do now. You never really thought about how completely he can surveil his domain from the comfort of his office chair. 

You never cared before, because you were never up to something. 

That is when it dawns on you. You cannot stop yourself from taking a detour back into your room, and you check every corner, nook, and cranny. You find it tucked within an affixed wall decoration. A tiny camera, pointed right at your bed. 

The things he surely watched you do, long before you had any inkling…

It makes you simultaneously hot all over with rage–and you hate to admit, titillation. He really does like to watch.

You would have to remember that. It might prove his only weakness.

You are so fucked. 

Feeling completely overwhelmed, all you want to do is curl up on your bed and have a good, ugly, soul-expunging cry. However, there’s the possibility he’s watching you, and so you put on a brave face, shoving it all down and flipping off the little black eye in the wall before going back to work. 

***

You think you feel a little better, when you’re in the media room later, carefully dusting the screens and cables. All that goes up in smoke when Donaka slips through the door silently, pausing to look upon you like a predator at the treeline evaluating the quickest path to its prey. 

You straighten, meeting his gaze with your heart in your throat. What is he up to now?

With a little smirk he pads on bare feet to the couch, seating himself like a pasha in the center with his arms up on the back. He is…still so beautiful it hurts, and you find you are grinding your teeth as you stand there silently, waiting.

When the silence between you draws on, it’s no surprise that you are the one to break first. 

“Am I in your way?” you ask, glancing back at the wall full of screens. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and he’s here just to watch TV. 

“Not at all,” he answers smugly, still staring you down. 

Ah. Then he’s here for you. Great. 

You sigh, and decide to go back to what you were doing, rather than quiver like a mouse trapped in a cage with a snake. “Don’t you have a company to run or something?” you grouse at him. 

“The key to good management is proper delegation.”

“Wow, that’s a fancy way of saying ‘I have underlings to do my dirty work.’” It’s possible you lace your words with a bit of mockery, and maybe you shouldn’t bait this man…but then again, there is a part of you that wants to bait him. You want him to do something so truly awful, so unforgivable that the confusion in your heart will solidify to stone, and you will no longer be conflicted about this man, and what you want from him. 

However, he simply chuckles at your insouciance, sounding 300 percent the villain that he is. “I doubt you even really know what my company truly does.” 

You blink at that. He runs a security firm. You realize…that really could be a blanket term for so many things. “I guess I just assume you keep an eye on things for rich clients,” you say, waving at all the monitors. “You clearly like to watch.” 

You insinuate that you know he had a camera in your room. You wonder if he watched you nearly break down. You wonder if he cares. 

You can’t help but notice his pale, elegant bare feet–his long toes curl as he smirks at you. Is he enjoying this little bout of verbal sparring? 

“That I do, y/n.” He tilts his head, his gaze sweeping you up and down. “It’s not all we do though at Security System Alliance. Sometimes a situation with our clients requires a physical touch.”

So he has commando operatives at his beck and call as well. Not a huge surprise, considering. You can’t tell if he’s threatening you, or simply making conversation. 

“Interesting. What kind of situations? I hear kidnapping is a big problem with the uber rich these days.” 

His smile widens, and you decide that yes, he is enjoying this game of double-speak. “So it is. Obviously I can’t disclose details, but we did secure the safe return of a billionaire’s son not so long ago.”

“Was there a ransom?”

“They wanted 20 million dollars.”

“Did they get it?” 

“Some of it.” 

You take a step closer, your hands on your hips. 

“Did you orchestrate the kidnapping in the first place?”

Now his smile is like a baring of teeth for you. “Oh, that would be dastardly.”

It’s not a yes…but it’s not a no. 

“You just seem to have experience in such things.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. You seemed satisfied with the results earlier.” 

You grip your dusting rag, a fine trembling running down your arms, and you narrowly resist the temptation to throw it at his head. The feminine urge to break things and scream.  “Is this something you’ve done to other women?” you ask quietly. You don’t really expect him to answer you truthfully–but suddenly you need to know.     

“No,” he answers, his tone equally hushed. “My relationships with women are usually more transactional.”

You frown at that. Does he mean prostitutes? Or mistresses who expect to be paid in housing and gifts and an allowance…? You suppose he sort of tried that with you, with the bracelet. It didn’t exactly work in his favor, so he had to resort to other tactics.

You wonder if you’d just given in back then, if he’d already be bored with you now? Is that the key to your freedom? That tremble has made its way to your core now. You feel cold all over, and a little sick.

He sees this change in you, and the smile on his face fades. “Come here,” he orders, holding out his hand. 

“No.” 

“Don’t make me ask twice.” 

You’d thought you were feeling better, but you realize you just managed to push it all down to function. The pain and the fear and the anger wells up inside you with a vengeance, and you do throw the rag at him–then you run, even though deep down you know there isn’t a hope in hell for you to actually escape him. You round the couch and he utterly surprises you when he vaults over the back of it, lithe as a panther. 

When he grabs you up with those long arms you snarl and squirm like a wild little animal and none of it does you a damn bit of good. He crushes you against him, and you can’t help it. You start to cry again against his chest, pushing at him at first, and then simply gripping fistfulls of his nice shirt while you stain it with your tears and snot and probably saliva too.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough of that.” He doesn’t yell at you, sounding more bored than anything. You realize that this is not the fun part of the game for him. Bastard. He picks you up and carries you back to the couch, sitting with you cradled in his lap. 

“I realize this development will take a period of adjustment for you, but I suggest you calm down.”

He says it so clinically, and that wildness rises in you again. A feral need to struggle and fight no matter the cost, your sense of self-preservation flown completely out of the window. “I suggest you eat a bag of dicks,” you snarl, starting to thrash in his arms again. He adjusts his hold on you with his arm pinning you across the chest, and that’s when you really fuck up. 

You bite him, and you get him good, clamping your teeth down on the meaty part of his forearm. He actually cries out, which is satisfying for about 2 seconds before he has you flipped and thrown down on the couch across his lap, pinning your face into the cushions with that big hand spanning the whole back of your head. 

“That hurt,” he snarls, and you wonder what he has in store for you now. Good. You hope it’s something terrible, so you can get on with the business of hating him. This hovering in limbo shit is too much agony. 

“I hope it gets infected.” 

You expect him to yell at you. Curse you. Hurt you. 

You do not expect him to throw back his head and laugh. 

“Oh, my sweet little bunny. You stupid girl.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“You need to learn the art of self-restraint. I’ll be more than happy to teach it to you.” 

You open your mouth to scream, but he pushes you down into the couch cushions, muffling your cries, nearly suffocating you. “You can be quiet, or I can gag you.” 

You go deathly still at that, ceasing to even breathe, the thought is so abhorrent to you. 

“Ah, there’s my good girl.” He strokes the backs of your legs, from the curve of your calf up the soft flesh of your thigh, then higher beneath your skirt, toying with the seam of your panties. It feels horribly wonderful and far too intimate and you can’t sit still in his lap while he touches you like this right after you were just fighting for your life. “Be still,” he warns you. “Or I’ll tie you.” 

There it is again. The threat from before, and you really believe he’d do it now. You force yourself to go still in his lap, the only motion the fine trembling you cannot seem to stop that still plagues your limbs. 

“That’s much better,” he purrs, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties, slowly drawing them down to your knees. When his questing hand slides up your skirt again, palming the curve of your ass he gives an appreciative groan. “I should bite you,” he muses, pinching you alarmingly close to the juncture of your thighs. “Right here, see how you like it.”

Maybe he expects you to squeal or whine, but you just sigh like you’re already tired of this shit, and you wish he’d get it over with. A fresh stream of tears has started falling from your eyes, beading on the leather upholstery. You’ll probably get into trouble for that too. 

“Oh, am I boring you?” he asks, half amused, half annoyed. 

“Yes,” you answer, and that’s when he pushes your skirt up to your waist and spanks your right buttcheek, the perfect snap loud as a crack of lightning in the room. You can’t help but scream then, and he chuckles as he finally gets the reaction he wants. 

“If you’re going to behave like a naughty child, I suppose I’ll discipline you like one.”  

“Gross.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Do I?” 

Smack! 

This time you don’t scream, but you do jump, squirming in his lap. 

“Fuck!” 

Smack! This time on the left cheek, and you bite the inside of your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed, though you stay silent. 

He lets you stew in the burning pain that spreads across your skin, before soothing your flesh with a featherlight touch afterwards that incredibly—inexplicably–makes you throb between your legs. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“I came in here to offer you a treat for good behavior,” he muses almost absently. “But I’m afraid that’s gone completely out the window.”  You can’t help but think he’s trying to make your relationship transactional, like he’d said before. Spread the blame, and the temptation, out between you, rather than rest it completely on his shoulders. 

“I don’t want it,” you grumble into the leather beneath you. 

“Oh, I think you do. You think you’re above the temptations of wealth? No one is. It’s just a matter of finding the things you want, and I’m certain this would have hit the target.” 

A long silence draws out between you. You hate it, that you want to know what he concocted, what he thinks he knows about you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Yet here you are, bent over his lap with your bare ass in the air–what dignity is left to you? At last you take the bait. 

“What is it?”

“I would rephrase that, if I were you.” 

You sigh, consider telling him to fuck off, and decide you don’t have the fortitude today to stand up to whatever he would do to you after. Another battle, lost to this man. 

“What carefully considered bribery did I miss out on in my headstrong resistance to your charms, Sir?” 

This makes him laugh like the villain he is. “Oh that was good. I liked that.” He continues to draw light circles upon your buttocks and the backs of your thighs, driving you mad with his gentle touch. Despite the fact that he has–not to put too fine a point on it–already murdered your pussy, your center throbs and weeps in response to his hands upon you like this. He is carefully avoiding touching you there, teasing you mercilessly with his fingertips, but if he did dip in a finger he would find you soaked. 

“Maybe I could be convinced to tell you, if you make it up to me. You’ve been a very bad girl.” 

You know you are a depraved thing, when your treacherous clit throbs in answer to this suggestion. Thinking you know what he wants, because you can feel the bulge of his hard cock pressing against your side, you make to get up. 

Immediately he pins you back down, his fingers fisting in your hair. It sends a thrill down your spine, and you shift your hips in response, pressing your thighs in hope of some relief. “Did I say you could get up?” 

Oh. 

God fucking dammit. 

“How can I make it up to you, Sir?” 

Even the sound of his dark chuckle strums at your clit, turning you into an angry, needy little mess in his lap. 

“Get on your knees, bunny.” He guides you to the floor between his legs, slow but exacting, his fingers still tangled in your hair. Looking up at him like this from beneath your lashes wreaks unspeakable mayhem upon your sense of reason, and all you can think is that you’re fucked. Well and totally fucked, because you still can’t make your mind up about this man. 

“Take it out.” 

You shouldn’t enjoy running your palms up the lean length of his thighs encased in fine fabric, the way that you do. Your hands should shake more, as you undo his designer belt and the clasp of his trousers, carefully pulling the zipper down. The impressive length of his manhood strains against his briefs, and you shouldn’t feel this thrill of excitement as his cock springs free as you pull the last barrier down. 

You dare to look up at him again, gauging his mood. The truth is that you enjoy giving head, when you’re in love and you feel safe and you’re having a good time. One of those is completely off the table–the other two, you’re still on the fence about. 

“If I feel the slightest hint of teeth you will regret it.” 

“I’m not going to bite off my favorite part of you,” you fire back, and you get lucky when this seems to delight him, winning a huff of laughter.

“Good. Give it a kiss then.” 

You do as you’re told, and do him one better, taking his head between your lips and swirling your tongue around that nerve-rich flesh. You feel him relax beneath you, a low moan your reward as you take him further into your mouth, almost to the hilt. He lets you do what you want with him, seeming to enjoy your freestyling lips and tongue upon his hard shaft. You forget yourself, teasing the throbbing vein ever so lightly with your bottom teeth. It earns you a growl of warning–you shouldn’t laugh, muffled as it is with your mouthful–but you do. 

You know it’s your punishment, when his hold tightens in your hair at the back of your head, guiding you down down down onto his erection. He is too big to fit completely into your mouth. You try, and fail to suppress your gag reflex. But he holds you, not letting you up. 

“Relax,” he orders with new steel in his tone. “You can do it.” 

With tears in your eyes you fight to ease him into the back of your throat, taking him a little further. “That’s my good girl.” Now he guides you his with his hand on your head, merciless as he fucks your face with his huge cock. “Swallow it all, bunny.” It’s the only warning you get before a flood of spend fills your throat and your mouth, his iron-grip in your hair preventing you from moving anywhere but down upon him. You struggle to swallow, trying not to make a mess all over his expensive dress pants. When at last he lets you go, you gulp and gasp for air, wiping at the corner of your mouth.

He smirks down at you, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction but still shining black as a shark’s. It takes every iota of your self control not to say what you’re thinking: asshole. 

Maybe you can be taught.  

“Not bad. We’ll work on that.” You fall back on your butt on the floor when he releases you, and you watch as he puts himself away and stands, leaving you a crumpled mess on the floor at his feet. You can tell he enjoys this vantage, towering over you. Who says you have no self-control? Because you are so tempted to punch him in the balls, even if you know he would end you for it. 

“See you tonight, honey.” 

You can hardly believe he’s leaving after that–leaving you in a haggard little unsatisfied pile. Only with his hand on the door does he turn back to you, throwing over his shoulder, “Don’t you dare touch yourself. I’ll know.”

You acknowledge this directive with a frustrated little growl, banging your head on the cushioned edge of the couch. He takes this as close enough to acknowledgement, sweeping out of the room with a wicked chuckle. You stay on the floor for a good half hour, trying to process this latest indignity, and begging your body to calm the fuck down. Remember, that you hurt everywhere? Your libido is not so convinced. 

Neither go well for you, so in the end you just give up, get up, and go back to what you were doing with the taste of Donaka Mark still sharp and astringent on your tongue.

Bastard. Maybe escape won’t be enough. The longer this goes on…the more you want revenge.

[twst-drabbles]

Scarabia 5

Summary: Jamil was the last to notice Kalim’s crush on you.

(I really like thinking about what other characters would think about their friends having a crush on the Reader. It’s fun. I should write Kalim more. He’s fun to write. Do you like the way I write Kalim and Jamil? I hope you do.)

Subtly was never Kalim’s strong suit, but Jamil knows him to be such a specific form of loud that when something small changes in the housewarden, it ironically makes it harder for anyone to notice. One would think Kalim’s body to be its own megaphone where any light troubles of the heart would be magnified for all to see and hear, but that’s not quite true. Jamil has learned that his open way of expression was merely the result of his need to see smiles, to see everyone he cherishes happy.

Kalim’s big and bright nature was a choice rather than something he can’t help. It’s why Jamil has given up on trying to tempter him into something that won’t grate on his nerves when stress overwhelms him. And because it was something intentional, Jamil doesn’t think to look any deeper into Kalim’s quiet moments.

“Hopefully he doesn’t let his pity guide his grossly generous hands,” Jamil sighed out, already calculating the expected loss in the treasury as Kalim wrapped your recovering self in a custom made blanket. Behind the housewarden was plates among plates of easy to digest soups and stews, and in Jamil’s own hand was more dishes.

This was par for the course. No one would fault Jamil for not looking any deeper into it. All he thought was, “what a waste,” as he went back into the kitchen to make more. Though that’s after persuading Kalim to not get the elephants for you to ride. Certainly, there was an inkling in the back of his mind, was Jamil simply chalked that up to Kalim being excited with having a new friend.

Do you want to know the irony of all this? Jamil, born and raised into the position that he is, forced to hone himself into someone that can spot just about any and all tells, could not spot the little white flowers blooming in Kalim’s heart. You were the one to notice first.

It was such a simple action. It was another one of those days where Kalim was more subdued than usual. His smile was still radiant in how it filled up the room, but it was tolerable. A sign that he won’t babble himself in circles until he grows tired. Jamil had noticed the time and was walking into the main room to dismiss you and potentially force Kalim to bed.

You and Kalim were sitting side by side, looking up at the sky as the cool winds blew through. Kalim tucked his chin in a bit towards his chest, smile still present, and soothed his hand over yours.

Kalim had no qualms with holding hands. Jamil had many memories of his own being held when Kalim wanted to show him something, or celebrate a victory over him. A palm in another palm was second nature to that man. There was no weight to it, no special meaning. Jamil has seen you and Kalim hold hands before, so clearly you understood that as well.

And yet, there was a subtle change that only you had noticed and it was significant enough to have you gently pull away. It was a motion that was impossible to dismiss, for Kalim’s smile grew dimmer that day. He said nothing and let the quiet stay.

Kalim too had noticed something change inside him. Jamil, of all people, was the last to notice.

[juicedbug]

Semper Fucking Fi - Part Two

part one

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Jason rustles uncomfortably in the thin singular blanket he's been given.

Not only are they forced to stay in a prison made entirely of veils of plastic, monitored by Centcom agents in hazmat suits, but they can't even be bothered to provide them with more pleasant sleeping arrangements. Or a change of goddamn clothes.

"Do you think you could quit moving, Lieutenant?" Eric prods from the bed atop of his. Jason figures he chose to share a bunk with him because he learned that Rachel's affair was with none other than Sargent Nick Kay. When Jason found out, he wasn't sure whether to be proud or perturbed.

He rolls his eyes, "With all due respect, Colonel, 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 no. I dunno how the fuck yall are okay with this."

"None of us are okay with it," Nick chimes in from the bottom bed adjacent to Jason's, though he doesn't roll over to properly face him.

"Then why don't we get the fuck out?"

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Rachel takes her turn. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but Centcom won't release us until we clear all their requirements. We should be grateful they even let us shower."

"And sleep," Eric mutters begrudgingly.

Jason shakes his head, running both hands down the length of his face. He feels as if he's damn well losing his mind, sick with worry over Salim. It's been hours. The fuck are they doing with him?

"Well I can't fuckin' sleep.." Jason complains, losing a little more octave to his tone of voice.

Maybe he would've liked the time to sit with his thoughts beforehand, but now such an inkling scares him more than he'd like to admit. It's as if what they've lived through is still with them, lingering in the dark corners of the otherwise empty room.

It's selfish, yet he's relieved he wasn't alone down there, witnessing all they've seen unassisted. He's grateful for Nick and Rachel. Shit, he's even a bit grateful for Eric.

But most of all, he's appreciative of Salim. Not just for his wits and his strength, but for the fact that he was able to keep Jason's head on straight during the whole ordeal. He feels a bit lost without the enemy of his enemy. The sword to his shield.

Jason releases a hefty sigh before he flips to his side, attempting to be a little more mindful of the shitty craftsmanship of he and Eric's shared bunk. He shuts his eyes and realizes he has a sudden fear of the dark. It doesn't feel safe. And if 𝘩𝘦 feels this way, he can't imagine what Salim must be going through right about now.

A scream rips through the air, and the four of them simultaneously sit up. Jason peers at what he can see of his fellow marines questionably. "..'m guessin' I ain't the only one who heard that?"

Nick rolls his shoulders into a tense shrug. "..We could all be hallucinating.."

Like clockwork, another petrified scream sounds, only this time it goes hand in hand with the splatter of blood that's seemingly gone the distance over plastic. Jason moves, tossing his useless blanket to the side and attending to strap each of his boots on one by one.

"Jason, where the hell are you going, man?" Nick prods immediately, though he mimicks the tossing of his blanket.

"In case y'all haven't noticed, we're still very much on vampire territory. 'm goin' to find Salim."

Eric's sigh rips through the air, sounding as dramatic as possible as he, too, also rids himself of his blanket. "How many times are you going to save that man?"

"As many times as it takes," Jason retorts, tugging his cap over the top of his head.

"Kolchek," Rachel urges, jumping from her spot on the top bunk and landing with an apparent ease. "You don't even have a gun," she points out.

And while it's enough to briefly halt Jason, it certainly would never deter him from his focus. "Neither did he," he musters over his shoulder, stalking his way towards the third and fourth scream that's beginning to sound more like a signal.

The little light that's offered within the halls blinks ominously above, bathing the bodies beyond Jason's feet in a soft, brownish glow. It's just a couple of Centcom agents, throats ripped out and armed only with pistols. Jason almost feels bad. They didn't know a single fucking thing about what they were up against.

He cocks the new found gun within his palm and just like that, the previous feel of buzzing emptiness ceases. He proceeds, allowing the perfectly fitting lighting and strokes of blood splatter to guide him down the eerily setting hall.

Jason isn't typically someone who is so readily startled. Or rather, he's done his fucking hardest to present as such for a little over a decade now. However, for the first time since then, he feels his mask slipping.

As he turns into the nearest room, he can't quite place as to how he knew to do so. The sickly twist in his gut moves his legs for him, and when his blood shot eyes dart into the mess of what looks to be some stupidly put together lab, his brain can't possibly process what they've fallen upon.

"..S..Salim.." Jason calls out, lids twitching into a narrow at the slumped over man behind the table. Within his lap is another, and Jason can make out the subtle twitch of his legs and the gush of blood that paints the wall beside them.

He doesn't want to believe it, but he 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 it's Salim. It'd be impressive to misplace that uniform.

"𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬," Jason's voice breaks, his fingers curling around the handle of his firearm tightly. "S-Salim," he says again, a bit more sternly than before.

The hunched over, no doubtedly feasting body before him, pauses. His head lifts, and with it comes a slow turnaround for their gazes to meet. Pointed fangs drenched in crimson and flesh jut from Salim's upper lip, his skin much greyer than any human he's ever met, and his once kind eyes glossed over and vicious.

It appears Jason is too late.

Salim Othman is a 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 vampire.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Whiny Whitethorn

Rowaelin Month masterlist

@rowaelinscourt

This whole thing was born last night, when my uber driver told me he got blocked from two different restaurants on iFood (but I wrote Uber Eats because it’s used worldwide even though it’s a huge flop where I live).

Enjoy!

Warnings: none I think? Nothing happened but Aelin thinks Rowan’s a creep but it’s just hinted. Anyway.

Words: 2k

Rowan had never felt greater loss in his thirty-two years of life.

He laid on the floor, wondering how he’d survived an entire month without his favorite restaurant already. His fridge felt too dull. His counter, too empty without Emrys’ Steaks takeout boxes. Meat on a stick would never be the same.

He did complain about the food every time, but only because he wanted Emrys’ Steaks to achieve even greater greatness. Rowan complained because he cared.

Now he moped around the house, chest hollow as he reminisced the times he focused on the bad parts instead of the good ones. A month ago, if he knew that would be his last time ordering at Emrys’ Steaks, he wouldn’t have complained to that lady that the fries weren’t as crispy. Neither would he make a suggestion about purchasing rice of better quality if he knew they were struggling financially.

Because that’s what happens, right? No restaurant that good would close without a good reason.

Feeling an inkling of doubt, Rowan opened Instagram and typed the restaurant’s name. He only visited there once because he preferred to have food delivered at home—

There’s a story. Posted one hour ago. Of the place open.

Emrys’ Steaks didn’t close, they just ditched Uber Eats.

Rowan closed his eyes and relaxed against his tiled floor, relief taking over his previously tense muscles and making him feel like he was fluttering. He was so grateful he felt like his body was expanding to another dimension. One filled with meat on a stick.

He considered changing his clothes and going to the restaurant to fully understand what happened, but decided to use the phone number available on their page.

The Uber Eats link was still there, but it didn’t open in Rowan’s phone. Odd. He should remind the staff to take the link off or fix it.

Rowan: Good evening.

Rowan: Can you send me a picture of the menu?

Emrys’ Steaks: hi

Emrys’ Steaks: [picture of the closed menu.]

He frowned. Maybe they put the same person who buys that second-rate rice in charge of the phone.

Rowan: Open, please?

Emrys’ Steaks: yes til 11pm

He pinched the bridge of his nose, refusing to let other people’s incompetence get to him because the food is worth it.

Rowan: I’d like to see the open menu

Emrys’ Steaks: apologize

Rowan: I’m sorry…?

Rowan: You know what

Rowan: I’ll just have a rump steak with bacon on a stick.

Emrys’ Steaks: sorry for the typo sir i meant i apologize for the inconvienent

Emrys’ Steaks: sorry again sir there’s no steak

Rowan: It’s a steakhouse.

Rowan: What do you mean there’s no steak?

Emrys’ Steaks: i don’t know sir my mom said that but uncle emrys is cooking a lot maybe theyre bringingh their own meat

And that’s when Rowan gave up on getting his dinner delivered.

˜˜

The small restaurant was cramped as ever, reminding him of why he insisted on ordering from home. Rowan walked until he reached a counter in the back, but the staff was busy going from one place to the other. The only unoccupied person was a little girl sitting behind the counter, playing on a phone. Despite being a literal child, she looked old enough to reason with.

Rowan cleared his throat. “Do you work here?”

He could finally see past that curtain of pitch-black hair, when she looked up with eyes so wide and blue Rowan had an impression she was trying to blind him with UV lights.

“No, but I’ll get someone who does. What’s your name?”

”Rowan. Rowan Whitethorn.”

The girl’s mouth fell, and she took him in with eyes so wide it looked as if she was seeing a ghost. “Are you Whiny Whitethorn?”

He froze. “What.”

She straightened her posture, studying the situation with her little inquisitive eyes, as if she were a miniature Sherlock Holmes. “Do you whine to my mom every week?”

“Not whining!” His voice rose, just a small display of the outrage he felt. “I call to give helpful input—“

The girl giggled, taking a few steps back until she was running towards the kitchen. “Mom! Whiny Whitethorn is here!”

The loud background noise, a deafening result of multiple tables’ chatter and laughter, was one of the reasons Rowan preferred to dine in his own home. The place was nice, but with a casual touch about it that made it look attractive to young people. As long as they’re well-employed enough to pay for the steaks, that is, since they were just a little over the average price.

A moment later, Rowan was taken aback by the woman emerging from the kitchen. Her light blue dress shirt that matched her turquoise eyes was tucked under a skirt tight enough that he decided it was best to snap his eyes back up.

For a second, he forgot about the nickname she and her daughter called him. For a second, Rowan was about to tell her she could call him anything she wants.

“Rowan Whitethorn?” The woman extended a hand. “I’m Aelin Galathynius, the person you… voice your complaints to over the phone.”

He shook her hand, a bitter smile adorning his face. “I believe you meant whine to.”

“Do you want a table, Mr. Whitethorn?”

”I do, actually.” He cocked his head with a pinched expression, trying to silently address how annoyed he was. “I’m here because you’re unreachable online.”

“Can you elaborate, sir?”

“You see, your Uber Eats page hasn’t been working for a month. I even thought you guys were closed.” Rowan opened up his phone and showed her the issue with Uber Eats, then his text thread with the restaurant. “And whoever is in charge of the phone is completely inefficient.”

“I see…” Aelin’s unwavering face faltered, and that’s how he knew she’d just found out about something not going according to plan. “Emrys, the owner, gave my daughter access to our commercial phone, but she isn’t allowed to speak with the clients in it. I apologize for the inconvenience.” A pause for her fake customer smile. “About the Uber Eats… I’m afraid you can’t reach us there because I blocked you.”

“You did what?” Rowan blinked, his mind racing and empty at the same time. He wasn’t expecting this. Was it even possible to block a customer? “Why would you do that?”

”Your bi-weekly phone calls were disrupting my work, sir. I weighed my decision a lot before doing it, considering how frequently you ordered from us.”

Rowan blinked. His mouth opened, but wasn’t able to articulate any reply. He couldn’t believe this—

“Come on, Mr. Whitethorn.” She rounded the counter, to lead him away from it. “I’ll show you a table.”

˜˜

A rump steak with bacon on a steak was always great to help him put things into perspective.

Except that there was no perspective. Rowan was doomed. Aelin said she’d come back to talk to him, and he could only think of all the ways he was going to grovel to get unblocked on Uber Eats—

The kid from earlier sat in front of him, at his table, without saying a word.

“Hello… child.”

“It’s Annie.”

He extended a hand for her to shake, unsure of how to act around kids. She shook it, before giving a skeptical, pointed look at his shirt.

“Are you a trainer on Pokémon Go?”

Rowan looked down, just now noticing he was wearing a silly t-shirt his friend Fenrys gave him a couple of years ago. It was of Pikachu on a cartesian plane, his thunder jolt making a parabola, and some projectile motion equations on the side. It was as nerdy as a shirt could get, and Rowan was sure the Pikachu was the only part of it that Annie understood.

He leaned closer, resting both forearms on the table. “Why do you ask?”

The kid mirrored his position, eyeing him up and down. “I can unblock you on Uber Eats. My mom won’t notice if you don’t call her again.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank you, Annie—“

“But I want two shiny or legendary pokémons in return.”

Rowan squinted his eyes at that devious little thing. Maybe kids weren’t a mystery after all. This one seemed to be sneakier than most adults he knew.

“Deal,” he grunted.

To Rowan’s surprise, the girl’s business-like stance fell for a moment. Her pinched lips broke into a grin, her upper body shaking with sheer delight in what looked like a giddy dance and a squeal. His eyes crinkled, that sight reminding Rowan of how kids were universally known for getting happy over silly things. It was an overly used cliché, but looked cute in person.

Rowan opened his app, looking for something a kid her age would like. “I have a shiny Squirtle with sunglasses.”

She shook her head with disappointment, letting out a heavy sigh. “I can get grounded, Rowan, and you offer me a Squirtle?”

That little urchin was so adorable it almost made him forget how smart she is. Rowan crossed his arms, jaw tight this time. “What do you want?”

“One galarian legendary bird.” Her eyes narrowed. “And the shiny Squirtle.”

He gaped, struggling to find an answer that matched his shock. Absolutely not. His galarian birds were sacred, and—

“Fork.”

Rowan frowned, wondering what was Annie’s issues with the cutlery, when he noticed Aelin coming their way. Shit, shit, shit. That trade was the only way to get him unblocked, and he had to act fast. He skimmed through the app, his eyes quickly finding a shiny Mew. Annie said she wanted one shiny and one legendary, Rowan could only hope she’d accept one with both things as part of their deal.

Confirm trade.

The little girl gasped in the exact same moment Aelin reached their table. And when she eyed the screen on Annie’s hand, her eyes went cold, her lips flat.

“I need to talk to you in the kitchen, Annie,” her mother said half-smiling her costumer smile, half growling between her gritted teeth. ”Now.”

The little girl jumped from the chair and ran away, leaving him alone with Aelin.

She was smiling at him, but it was clear that it wasn’t a cheerful one. It wasn’t even a costumer smile. This time, Aelin looked livid, her smile a sharp blade aimed at him.

“Look, Whitethorn, my patience with you is wearing thin. You’ll stay blocked on Uber Eats, and if you come back here, I don’t want you chit-chatting with my eight-year-old daughter again.” Aelin leaned closer, her eyes poisoned with rage and threat. “She might be with me at work out of need, but don’t you think for a second that I don’t watch her. If I ever see you trying to befriend Annie again, sending her online gifts behind my back, I won’t call the police. You’ll be the one wanting to call the cops on me.”

Rowan leaned away, shocked when he understood what she was implying. ”I think there was a misunderstanding, I’d never—“

“Did you understand, Whitethorn?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Perfect.” Aelin took a step back, her costumer smile plastered on. “Enjoy your meal.”

It was actually cold by now, but it was better than no dinner. He got back to it, his movements slow as he processed what just happened.

Aelin’s assumption of why he sent Annie that pokémon was a huge misunderstanding, but he was still on the wrong side. Rowan was so desperate to be unblocked he engaged in a secretive deal with someone else’s kid. He didn’t need to know a lot about children to understand how unacceptable that behavior was. If he were Annie’s father, he’d be threatening strangers who did that too.

After quickly finishing his dinner, he had already accepted that his future depended on an eight-year-old. And he lost a shiny Mew with no guarantee that she’d take it instead of one shiny, and another legendary pokémon she requested. With very little hope, he opened Uber Eats on his way out.

Emrys’ Steaks 4,8⭑

30-45 min • $4 Delivery Fee

Rowan’s shoulders dropped in relief, his chest expanding as he breathed in the cold evening air. He thanked that little urchin in his mind, and got into his car with a triumphant smirk.

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[yourssinfullyquiche]

Night

Hello, all you beautiful people🥰 Another installment in the 4 part Gavin (s.e.x) series. Yes, I was supposed to do Afternoon and Evening first but I'm still writing Afternoon and Evening has yet to be written. So...let's just skip to Night, shall we?

This is an NSFW work, and it's also a little angsty. I had to. I was desperate for angst TW: Unprotected sex, and...nothing else. I'm so bad at this

I come out of the bathroom, fresh as a dewdrop and see Gavin against the headboard of the bed, clothed in his tee and shorts, reading papers with his glasses on. It’s never used often, those glasses. Kept in a black zipped case, it remains on the bedside table ready for use when he wants to. Rather, when he has a splitting headache after reading too much too closely. Though, there are times when he adorns those golden spectacles for the surprised glint in my eyes that leads to heat spreading to my cheeks which results in me tugging my bottom lip with my teeth. 

I have an inkling of why it’s there today because the second I emerge from my shower, his eyes meet mine immediately in a gaze that tells me he’s not OK. It’s the kind where his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Behind that gaze is the lethargy of his recent mission that ended after a month, a sadness of which he has experienced that he’s yet to tell me. He looks like he’s about to cry driven by fear of loss. Ringed with dark circles, the reports he ought to be reading are abandoned with an unfocused mind. 

I stride towards Gavin, with a resolve of eliminating the feelings which feed into that look. He puts the papers aside and the spectacles on it, arms at his side to welcome my presence on his body. I don’t even bother changing into my pyjamas, only removing my bathrobe and tossing it onto the chair, knowing that his clothes would be strewn all over the floor. Clad only in my delicates, my legs straddle his hips. He cups my behind and pushes me up, securing me comfortably above him, levelled to his face. My hair falls encasing us in a curtain of floral vanilla scent—a secret reprieve, only the two of us share.

Our hands fiddle with our clothes—mine are gone in no time, my fingers move on to his shorts, pull it down in one go and throw it haphazardly. He’s bare and chuckling when he looks at me. “Don’t worry, the other half of my body won’t dare run away.” 

The delivery of that line should have me laughing but his voice is as empty as a hollow tree, something he tries to mask with cheekiness but fails. Though it twinges within, I don’t point it out. Instead I reciprocate with the intended cadence and smack his chest lightly, “I’ll be sure to use that line when you tear my clothes in shreds.”

He purposely averts his eyes all innocently with a satisfied smile on his face. The back of my fingers absentmindedly runs over his cheek as he tucks the spilling locks of my hair to one side. “What’s on your mind?” I ask. 

There, it’s that look again. That look in his eyes tells me he’s so afraid. He breathes heavily and pulls me closer into his warm embrace, protectively cradling the back of my head. I wait for his shaky breaths to dwindle and answer though I know it won’t come as easily. I look back at him to see his eyes glisten wistfully and then he says, “I’m so happy that you’re here with me.”

My face twists first into confusion and then understanding. I don’t pry further because that one line tells me everything I need to know. A smile forms on my face as I cup his cheeks. “There’s no place I will be than in your arms, my love.” 

The smile he gives me is loving and grateful as he brings me into his embrace once more. There’s a small lump forming in my throat, but I swallow it. There will be no tears for now, not when he needs my strength—and it comes full force as my fingers ghost over the deep lines on his body

All sizes with pains that ache my heart. I dance over the fresh gash across his sternum like they’re hot coals burning my fingers. Yes, it burns. It burns my entire being, makes my blood boil that he has to put himself through countless horrors—yes it is not deep, but the marking remains sufficiently angry to leave a scar crossing both his pecs. 

My thoughts halt when he looks at me with a pensive gaze. I remind myself that anger is not what I need now as well. I’ll not let him have the chance to comfort me, not when he’s clearly in need of some love. So, before he utters anything, I kiss lips, one he gladly sinks into. Desperate and breathless it becomes and it makes me float, taking away my mind that would eventually travel down the path of bitter horrifying stories it conjures. 

I caress his cheek with the back of my knuckles. Kiss all over his face. He chuckles as I flutter my eyelashes across his skin. I look into his eyes, tired but always exuding gentle love that sends a rush of warmth through my body. 

No words leave my lips, it only moves to join his again. Our kisses are unhurried and languid, a sweet dance. We save exploring each other’s bodies for another day, for today we yearn only for the warmth such nakedness provides. I raise and sink slowly down his cock. The chorus of sounds leave our lips at the pleasure of fullness we both feel, feeling so close to one another, the warmth that one can only feel when they’re skin to skin. 

One of his hands stays resting on my bottom and the other sneaks up to hold my nape, mine finds its way to the soft strands of his hair, and they stay put for anchor. I feel him engorged and pulsing in me. The burn of my core, the stickiness my legs feel and the incredible need to rise and slam hard into his body. I ignore all the impulse, instead we rock our bodies to a slow rhythm. Moving together and savouring the deliberate thrusts. 

Gavin’s lips caress my neck until they land at the corner of mine. “You feel so good,” he whispers against my lips, choking my sighs once more in a reverent kiss. Tonight, I let my lips take away his grief, my body take away his pain. Perhaps after, words will be shared once more, dead in the twilight wrapped around in sheets heated by the warmth of our bodies. 

The waves of pleasure crests within us yet we never hasten. I feel the usual jolt in my tummy, one look at him tells me we’re both about to fall over the cliff. “Together,” I tell him and he’s about to pull away when I stop him, clamping down. “I want it inside.” He stills, eyes wide as he stares at me for a few seconds. The question is clear. Are you sure? 

Softly he asks to confirm his thoughts, “Is that what you want or are you doing this because you think I want it?” 

I yearn, and perhaps I am doing this for him. But I don’t care. I know he’s the man I want to spend all my nights with wrapped in our sheets, the only one whose golden eyes I ache to meet when I wake. Somehow I know he needs that as well. To be so close to one another until the air we breathe diminishes. 

“I want it…,” breathlessly it dispels from my lips. 

I look at him and his eyes are glassy and dark to a deep shade of bourbon as he kisses my forehead. 

“Then come with me,” says Gavin.

We’re in one tight embrace as our bodies rock once more—a little faster, and within a few seconds we come undone in a gentle rush. I have no plans to move, to feel the emptiness that will instantly wash over—he doesn’t either when his hands stay tight around me. I feel the warmth of the duvet around my skin as we kiss goodnight and say I love yous before we drift to a slumber. 

-

A/N: Thank you for reading❤️ Updates will be quite slow since I'm working now. I had this piece in the drafts as I wrote it immediately after Morning. I waited so long only because I wanted to post it by order but the Afternoon piece is taking longer than expected. It's really out of my comfort zone, so writing it has been a slow process. To those of you reading, I appreciate your patience~

Credits to @cafekitsune for the lovely dividers😚

© YOURSSINFULLYQUICHE2023 — no part of this writing shall be plagiarised, translated or reposted in any way. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Taglist: @playheej@purple-cat-demon@rinharu-purple (if you want to join my taglist, please visit my blog and click the link available on my pinned post)

[rec-review8890]

Happy Halloween, Loves! 

Because this is my favorite holiday of all time, I've created this list for everyone wanting to read some Halloween related fics for today. They may not all include the holiday itself, but they at least have the elements we love so much about the holiday!

Supernatural!au, Horror!au, etc. 

Give all the authors your praise for their stories. I included a few of my own, but besides the fic’s I claim as mine then none of these fics are mine. Make sure to check out the warnings before you read the fics!

You may have seen some of these fics recommended on my other lists, but it’s only because they’re related to this rec list AND because the read was so good for me I wanted to recommend them again! I hope you all enjoy the fics as much as I did, and have a happy Halloween! 

。·°°·°°·。 。·°°·°°·。 。·°°·°°·。

Key:

(💦) ~ Smut , (🐑) ~ Fluff , (👊) ~ Angst , 

(📝) ~ Series , (🗒) ~ One-Shot/Drabble

。·°°·°°·。 。·°°·°°·。 。·°°·°°·。

Title: Birthright 💦👊🗒

Summary: Vampire!seokjin x human!reader. Also historical and strangers to lovers!au

↳ “Slowly making peace with the one singular purpose your life served, you were grateful for the solace you didn’t anticipate within the cold walls of the Briarwood Manor in a handsome stranger who kept your heart warm with his gorgeous smiles and a vast collection of books. However, you couldn’t escape the eerie inkling that you knew him better than you realized. Not when assaulted by dreams in which Kim Seokjin’s charcoal black eyes turn as red as his lips had been the first night you met him.”

-

Title: Mirror, Mirror On The Wall 💦🗒

Summary: Vampire prince!seokjin x human servant!reader. Also royalty and medieval!au.

↳ “Being a vampire prince, Seokjin is used to feeling everyone’s eyes on him. In fact, he’s come to expect it from his subjects. So when you won’t look at him of course he’s not happy. After all, didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude not to stare at him?”

-

Title: My Queen 💦🐑👊🗒

Summary: Vampire king!seokjin x human!reader. Also royalty and soulmate!au.

↳ “Seokjin had just returned to find his court and staff were not treating you how they should when he was gone. You were hurt, and his instincts were telling him to claim you and make sure you were unharmed.”

-

Title: Magic of The Night 👊🗒

Summary: Witch!Yoongi x Human!Reader. Also Magic, Halloween and Horror!au.

↳ “There is a witch you go to for spells and potions whenever human nature is not enough for things to go your way, and he loves you more than anyone else ever will.”

-

Title: Snowstorm 🐑👊🗒

Summary: Jack Frost!yoongi x reader. Magic, Jack Frost and Childhood friends!au.

↳ “Strange things happen in the woods when you return home for Christmas. And why does your mum insist you stay away from Min Yoongi?”

-

Title: Trick-or-Treat! 🐑🗒 

Summary: Trick-or-treating and meadow!au. Short, but sweet. This felt like a good relief to read after reading all of these other fics. A needed fluff read for this season!

↳ n/a

-

Title: Red 💦🗒

Summary: Idol!Sub!Hoseok x Demon!Dom!reader. Fantasy, supernatural/demon, and established relationship au. 

↳ “Can we go on one date without you causing someone trauma?” ... “Babe, I’m a demon. What do you expect me to do?”

-

Title: Run Little Red 👊🗒

Summary: Wolf!namjoon x human!reader. Little red riding hood and yandere!au.

↳ “A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?”

-

Title: Lady Of The Night 👊🗒

Summary: Jack the ripper and horror!au.

↳ “You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you.”

-

Title: Born For This 💦👊📝 

Summary: Alpha wolf!Namjoon x Omega wolf!Reader. Also Yandere!au.

↳ “It’s the Goryeo era. And you happened to be a rare type of omega. Other Omegas like you were either dead or hunted till almost extinction. You luckily escaped and were living a normal life until you were chosen as an offering to the walking God of the land; Alpha Namjoon.”

-

Title: Under The Full Moon 🐑👊🗒

Summary: Werewolf!Namjoon x GN!Reader. Also enemies to lovers and forbidden love!au. I’m such a sucker for forbidden love!au’s!

↳ “—in which only the moon is a witness to the forbidden love you and namjoon share”

-

Title: Bitten 💦🐑👊📝 (Ao3)

Summary: Werewolf!RM x Witch!Reader. The forbidden love!au is through the roof with this one!!!!!

↳ “Rule number 1 of the holy book of witches: witches may never have intercourse with a werewolf. Every violation will be punished.You were a witch, he was a werewolf and it was forbidden.”

-

Title: Just A Taste 💦👊🗒

Summary: Vampire!Jimin x Human!reader. Absolutely loved this read! It was so sweet, and I even saved it to my fave’s list!

↳ “They said having a relationship with a human wasn’t a good idea, but Jimin liked you too much to ever let that get in the way. Your relationship was beautiful, yes you didn’t know that small important detail about him being a bloodthirsty vampire, but he had it under control. That’s at least what he thought, he never would have predicted a drought...”

-

Title: The Dark Prince Epilogue  💦👊📝

Summary: Although this is a part of a series, only the epilogue (link above) is Jimin x reader. The other 8 parts are JK x Reader. Also curse!au, and Witch!Jimin x queen!Reader.

↳ “Approached by a witch with the promise to free your husband’s family name from a curse, you question whether his intentions are good, but soon find there is a heavy price to pay.“

-

Title: The Cave Dweller 💦🐑🗒

Summary: By me. Cave Monster!Jimin x Human!Reader. 

↳ “It started out as a curiosity, then you met a being that took up your interest altogether. You’ve always been the type of person to comfort those who are lonely, you just didn’t expect your new found friend to be a cave monster. A monster that teaches you tricks of magic, and you eventually teach him your own dirty tricks.”

-

Title: Moonlight 💦🗒

Summary: Best Friend/Wolf!Taehyung x Human!Reader. Friends-to-lovers, and wolf!au.

↳ “The full moon means one thing and one thing only to your best friend, Kim Taehyung. It’s the one time a month he turns into a wolf and frolics in the moonlight. However, on his 25th Hallows’ Eve, his wolf is calling out for his mate.”

-

Title: The Phantom 👊🗒

Summary: Part of a Halloween yandere series. Yandere and horror!au.

↳ “Spending Halloween serving preteens greasy popcorn and cleaning spilled soda off the carpets isn’t what you had in mind for a fun night. But lucky for you, your night is about to get real interesting when a series of unfortunate events start occurring throughout the movie theater and your soon to uncover the horrifying curse that surrounds your part-time job.”

-

Title: Blue Boy 💦🐑👊📝

Summary: 45 parts + epilogue. Also JK x Reader (but as ex’s and there’s no theme of them getting back together). One of my favorite reads of all time! College, and yandere!au. Please read the warnings before reading. It gets dark. The author is also making a second series for this, so lots to come!

↳ “While going through a painful but necessary breakup, reader meets someone who is patient, kind, and understanding; everything your last ex was not… or is he?”

-

Title: Mate 💦🐑📝

Summary: 9 parts. AlphaWolf!jk x OmegaWolf!reader.

↳ "Jungkook knew in his soul from the moment your eyes met his in the forest that you were his mate, that he was meant to protect you at any cost. You’d been through hell while escaping a place that had treated you horribly since your childhood, and it was strange how calm you felt in his presence when you found yourself in an unfamiliar place with a stranger. Something inside of you told you to trust him."

-

Title: Pi Gasu 💦👊📝

Summary: Vampire!Jungkook x Human!Reader. 8 parts + prologue. Completed series???? I started on pt.6 by accident, so I can tell it’s a slow burn. This story made me tear up, and I don’t know why. Also Suga x reader if you squint. Jk’s blood lust basically ruins everything, but at the same time makes everything better. XD

↳ From pt.6 ~ “Donating blood for Jungkook is physically draining you, in more ways than one.”

-

Title: Sucker For Love 💦🐑👊📝

Summary: Ongoing story. Vampire!Jungkook x Human!Reader. Also best friends-to-lovers!au.

↳ “In which your best friend happens to be a vampire and the only time he’s able to be himself in the world is during Halloween night. OR you’ve been in love with your best friend for a long ass time and want him to bite you for a change and not a random person, which for some reason, he refuses to do. they say love hurts, and damn it all that you want it too.”

-

Title: Virgin Sacrifice 💦👊🗒 

Summary: By me. Demon!Jungkook x Human!reader. 

↳ “Since the day you were born, your parents prepared you for your sacrifice. The whole village knew, and with that everyone stayed away from you. Thinking even just looking at you would make the demon in waiting mad. The demon that has been praying on you since birth, but not for what you expected.”

-

Title: The Wolf Within You 💦🐑🗒

Summary: By me. Omega wolf!Jungkook x Alpha wolf!Reader. Also arranged marriage!au and dom/sub dynamics. 

↳ “Arranged marriages always seemed to be so boring on the outside. A treaty pairing the two wolf clans together was the only reason you and Jungkook got married in the first place. But once you saw the little omega shy away from you, holding onto his sleeves for dear life, you knew your marriage was going to be anything but boring.”

[greatideas-badwriter]

Worth The Risk: Chapter 4

"What do you want?"

Sakura squeezed her eyes closed. Her voice hadn't wavered, and for that, she was grateful. For the past three days, she slept on the floor at Ino and Karin's dorm. A call from the terrifying man seemed inevitable, but it hadn't come until now, her first night back at her own place. Upon arriving home, she realized someone had been inside because the deadbolt was no longer locked.

'I have a strong inkling who it was, too.' Obviously, it was Sasuke. It'd be too big of a coincidence if not.

The line remained silent, which threw the woman off because she expected Sasuke to immediately start yelling at her like he had in the alleyway on Sunday.

"Are you there? I'm going to hang up."

"Don't," his voice finally came, sounding just as irritated as it had last she heard it.

Trying to come off as brave, Sakura said, "Did you break into my apartment? I should call the police."

Sasuke scoffed, making her irritation flare, "Yeah, good luck with that. Listen," he paused for so long that she had to look at the screen to ensure the call hadn't dropped, "I…have a question."

Sakura was confused, for sure, because the man on the other side of the line wasn't anything like she'd experienced thus far. He almost seemed nervous or uncomfortable, but that couldn't be true. "Y-You can ask it, but I won't promise to answer it," she cringed when her attempt at masking fear came off as argumentative.

He bit, sounding more like himself, "Where do you get the audacity to talk to me like that? Keep pissing me off and see what happens."

'Damn it, Sakura! Stop digging the hole deeper!'

The man continued when she couldn't figure out how to respond, "Did you know it was me Saturday night?"

To say Sakura was bewildered would put it lightly, 'He all but threatened to kill me, and he's worried about whether or not I recognized him at the club? Is he insane?'

"Uh, no. No, I didn't, or I wouldn't have…."

"Are you telling the truth? If you're lying, I'll find you no matter where you run."

"Do you really have to threaten me every five minutes?" She bit her tongue at the end of her outburst, cursing inwardly because she'd, once again, lost her temper on the irritatingly gorgeous man.

"Are you at home right now?"

Sakura immediately panicked because she was sitting on her bed with a pillow on her lap, "J-Just tell me why you wanted to know. What does it matter if I recognized you or not?"

A long silence followed her question before Sasuke finally responded, voice severe and odd like when she first answered the phone, "The reason I acted the way I did was because I thought you did it on purpose."

Sakura gasped, "Of course not! Are you kidding?"

"Well, what the fuck do you expect me to think? You dumped wine all over me and then gave me blue balls a few days later. I thought you were trying to get back at me."

"I already told you I didn't mean to pass out! I get really sleepy when I drink a lot!"

Sasuke paused before calming down again, if only slightly, "So, if you hadn't fallen asleep, would you have gone through with it?"

The woman felt uncomfortable but reluctantly responded, "I don't even remember leaving the club with you, Sasuke, so I don't know. If I willingly let you in my apartment like you insinuate I did, then I guess I probably wouldn't have fought it."

"Why do you have to say it like that? It's not like I forced myself on you."

"That's not what I'm saying. Can you stop trying to argue every time I answer a question?"

Sasuke sighed, sounding irritated again, but a hint of something else coated his words, "Alright, look. I haven't met a woman that pisses me off as much as you, but I admit that I might've deserved to have wine dumped on me. I also jumped to conclusions the other day, so I'm fucking sorry, okay?"

Sakura's mouth fell open, 'Did he just apologize? What the hell! I thought he was calling to-' "So, do you forgive me or what?"

She wasn't overly familiar with the man's mannerisms, having spent a very short time in his presence, but it wasn't hard to picture the angry and embarrassed expression he must've been making. The last thing she expected him to do was swallow his pride and take responsibility for his actions.

"I-I, um, okay. Yes, I forgive you. Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me."

Sasuke's character switched instantly, "So we're good then?" "...yes?" "Cool."

There was a long, awkward silence before Sakura swallowed nervously, "Well, I guess I'll get off of here then. Good night, Sasuke."

He seemed confused but didn't argue, "Right. Talk to you later."

Once the call ended, she stared at the screen in utter disbelief, talking aloud to herself, "What in the world just happened?" Shaking off her unease, Sakura sat her phone back on the nightstand and snuggled under the covers to attempt to go back to sleep.

The next day, during her first class of the day, the woman's phone vibrated with a text message. Clicking it open while half paying attention to the professor, Sakura did a double take when it was from Sasuke's unsaved number, 'You're in college, right?'

A little unsure, she responded, 'Yes. Why?'

A couple of minutes later, he responded, 'Which one?'

Negative, fearful emotions swept over her, 'I thought we wouldn't speak again after last night. Why does he want to know? He's not going to show up, is he?' Too uncomfortable to respond, Sakura simply left him on read. 'I'm leaving on Monday. I just have to avoid him for two more days.'

So, she ignored the second text message mid-day that consisted only of a question mark and didn't answer his call that night, either. The poor woman was so scared he'd show up at her apartment that she wedged a chair under the doorknob so it wouldn't open even if the locks were picked.

After their conversation Thursday night, she didn't feel he'd stalk or hurt her anymore, but she also didn't know him well enough to be entirely certain.

On Saturday, she was texted only once. It said, 'You're so annoying.'

Sakura scoffed, irritated as she walked home from her afternoon class and imagined what she'd say to Sasuke if he was in front of her, 'Yeah, so are you, Asshole. For some reason, I lose my temper whenever you open your mouth.'

Sunday, there were no calls or texts, to her relief.

Then, the day of Sakura's departure arrived. After visiting with Ino and Karin to say one last goodbye, she grabbed her backpack and duffle bag. The cab she took could only get within two blocks of the crowded bus station, so the woman walked sadly down the sidewalk, doing her best not to cry.

'What will he do to me when I get back to town? I know he's pissed, but how far will he take it?'

"Look who it is."

The woman jumped in fear, only to look over and see Sasuke walking by her side with his hands in his pockets. Frowning, she attempted to mask her mild fear and discomfort, "Hey."

"Aren't you a ray of fuckin' sunshine? What's with the bags?"

Sakura kept her eyes downward, picking up the pace of her steps so they'd get near other people sooner and wouldn't be alone together. "That's none of your business."

The man grabbed her arm, making her face him with wide, green eyes. He glared, "What's your problem this time? You said we were good, but you're still like this."

Brow furrowing, she tugged her arm from his grasp, and luckily, he allowed it, "Listen, Sasuke. I did forgive you, but with all due respect, that doesn't mean I want anything to do with you. Please leave me alone."

Dark, angry eyes burnt into hers for a silent moment, the man obviously not having expected to be turned down so bluntly. When he said nothing, she began walking again, "I'm going to be late. Bye."

'Don't look back. He's a walking red flag. Who cares if I hurt his pride just now?'

Sakura thought he'd finally given up but sighed when he jogged to match her step, "Are you serious? Do you know how many people would kill to be in your place right now?"

"Well, they can have it, then. I don't want it."

"Are you going to the station? If you give me a kiss, I'll drive you so you don't have to use the bus."

"Go away."

"It can even be on the cheek."

Having reached her limit since she was already an emotional wreck before his arrival, the woman stopped, clenched her fists, and turned to face the tall man, "You want to know where I'm going? Fine. I have to move back home because I can't afford to stay here anymore."

Sasuke's eyes widened, "What?"

With a lump in her throat, Sakura glared firmly, "If that's all you need to know, then excuse me, but I'll miss my bus if I waste any more time."

This time, she reached the corner of the station's block. Dozens of people were passing by on the wide sidewalk, both to and fro, before he snatched her duffle bag from her shoulder, "It's because I got you fired, right?"

Sakura made a grab for the bag, but he held it out of reach with an attractive frown on his lips, "I don't have time to point fingers and argue right now, Sasuke! Give it back!"

She jumped with an outreached arm, but he held her back with a hand on her shoulder, "Shut the hell up for a second! I'm trying to help."

'Last call for bus K-ONE!' The intercom announced, making Sakura look toward the station.

'I have to go now, or I'll miss it!' With no choice, she turned and sprinted into the station, leaving her bag with Sasuke while dodging and bumping into other people.

"Sakura, wait!"

The woman looked over her shoulder to see him trying to catch up in the thick crowd. Something hard smacked into her front, and she toppled onto her bottom. When she looked up, a massive redheaded man glared down at her.

Gasping, she scrambled to her feet, "I am so sor- "Watch where you're going, Bitch."

Mouth clamping shut, the woman stepped back, only for his dark eyes to lift above her head and widen.

"Who the fuck do you think you're calling a bitch? Apologize."

"She ran into me!"

Sasuke stepped around her, grabbing the front of the stranger's shirt and hissing with a terrifying look, "Apologize, or I'll cut out your tongue." He dropped Sakura's bag and reached into his pocket to pull out a pocketknife, flipping it open.

"S-Sasuke, what the hell? Put that away before you get arrested!"

"Sorry, Ma'am." Her green eyes turned, disbelieving, onto the now visibly frightened man. The black-haired man at her side put the knife away and released his shirt but followed him with a dangerous glare.

Snapping out of her stupor, Sakura grabbed her forgotten bag and gave her rescuer an apologetic look while glancing at the terminal she was supposed to use, "Thank you for that! I'm sorry, but I really have to go." Then she ran again, more careful not to run into anyone this time.

By the time she reached her destination, she was panting for breath. Strands of long pink hair fell from her loose ponytail around her shoulders and face. Just as she made it to the ticket booth and handed over her ticket to be processed, the doors shut, and the bus left the station. Tears in her eyes, her blood ran cold, and she whispered to herself, "...no…."

Trembling with panic, Sakura breathlessly asked the employee at the stand, "Can I exchange my ticket for the next available bus to Konoha?"

The young man shook his head, handing the item back to her, "Unfortunately, we have a no refund/no exchange policy. I apologize for the inconvenience. Would you like to purchase a new ticket instead? The next bus is at eight p.m."

Pale and entirely at a loss of what she should do, she shook her head and accepted the useless piece of paper, "A-Ah, no. Please excuse me."

'I'm stuck here. I have no money, no job, and nowhere to sleep. What the hell am I supposed to do now?'

Sakura numbly left the line so she wouldn't hold it up and walked until she reached outside the station, where she finally lost her composure. Covering her mouth with one hand, the poor girl burst into tears but tried to keep silent to not draw attention to herself.

Everything she'd done from the moment she ran away from home had been a complete and utter failure. No matter how hard she tried or how much she endured in an attempt to secure her own safety, it was all for nothing. Now, she couldn't even return to her awful past life, either.

'Why does this keep happening to me? Was I a criminal in my past life?'

"Sakura, wait!"

The woman's sniffles became sobs as Sasuke's voice met her ears.

'And now there's this dangerous guy following me around, too! Should I just off myself so I don't have to suffer like this anymore?'

As she heard him approach, she lifted her hand from her mouth to her eyes, turning her head away so he wouldn't see how awful she looked. His voice was unrecognizably soft, and he stepped in front of her with a hand on either of her shoulders so she'd stop walking, "Hey, what's wrong? Did you run into that asshole again?"

Sakura shook her head and tried to walk around him, but he held her still, "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's up."

Though the woman was heartbroken and mentally fried, she was still completely stunned when long fingers gently pulled her hand away from her face. Sasuke guided her jaw so she'd be forced to meet his eye.

'This is pathetic. I want to die under a rock right now.' That's what she thought, but her breath was taken away when she focused on his face.

An unexpected expression of concern looked otherworldly on his flawless features, "I have no damn clue what to do right now. Usually, I make women cry, so I've never tried cheering one up."

For some reason, the uncharacteristically honest statement made her laugh, and her fingers curled around Sasuke's hand as he still held it.

His smirk returned, though not as cocky as the usual one. He opened his mouth to say something, only for Sakura's stomach to growl loudly. She looked away, face burning hot with humiliation.

He snickered, "C'mon. I'll feed you."

That's how she ended up sitting across from him in a little, hole-in-the-wall diner. "What sounds good?" Sasuke desperately tried to keep the mood casual and unserious, filling the silence so things wouldn't get awkward while they looked at menus.

Sakura frowned down at the laminated paper, not really seeing it. The waterworks had stopped, but that didn't mean everything was alright now. Now, she just felt numb. Though she was so hungry that her stomach hurt, she was too panicked to think about eating.

'I don't know why I let him bring me here.'

"Sakura."

The woman blinked, looking up to see a waitress awaiting her order.

Glancing between the employee and Sasuke, Sakura felt overwhelmed all over again. She didn't want to tell him she couldn't afford to pay him back in front of the middle-aged woman, but she also couldn't just order something and then do it because she'd feel awful for the wasted food they'd prepare. Tears brimmed in her eyes again, and she looked down at her lap.

"She'll have the same as me." Thankfully, the employee didn't make any comments and left.

Sakura felt Sasuke's gaze again and clenched her fingers into fists on her lap while refusing to acknowledge it.

"Are you going to talk, or do I have to force it out of you?" When she couldn't bring herself to respond, he sighed, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm, elbow on the table, "At least your crying face isn't ugly, I guess."

After the food arrived, Sakura hesitated to eat, averting her gaze out the window they were sat beside with gritted teeth. Her brow furrowed, 'It's snowing.'

"Listen, I'm trying to be fucking nice to you, but this is getting ridiculous. Just eat already."

Green eyes darted ahead to meet black ones, widening upon realizing Sasuke was glaring relentlessly. The irritation that he was, once again, bossing her around and cursing, Sakura grabbed a fork and absently poked at the eggs on her plate, blushing when she finally took a bite and looking away.

'He gets on my last damn nerve.'

It was a little refreshing, honestly. Since she began dating her ex-boyfriend, Sakura could barely converse with men without getting scared. Sure, Sasuke terrified her, but he also brought out her old, feistier personality. It was odd, and she didn't understand why it kept happening.

If it was anyone but Sasuke sitting there, she'd never mouth off or talk back.

"I think I can solve your problem if you'll hear me out." She met his eye again, nodding subtly. Sasuke searched her appearance over the coffee mug at his lips, speaking casually, "You need money and a place to live, right? My roommates and I just so happen to be looking for a housekeeper. What do you think?"

That snapped Sakura right out of her silent mood. She coughed, almost choking on her food. After taking a sip of water, she gave the gorgeous man an incredulous look, "By roommates, do you mean those jerks you were with at the bar? No thanks. I'd be safer sleeping on the streets."

"If you don't accept, that's where you'll be, right? Suit yourself." Sasuke's firm stare told the woman he wouldn't let her be stubborn.

Swallowing her pride, Sakura frowned, glaring with a blush, "...How much is the pay?"

He smirked triumphantly, "Let's see. After room and board," he paused, looking up as though doing equations before meeting her eye again, "How about a thousand a week? That's what most normal jobs pay, right?"

The table became silent.

'He's joking, right? Most jobs I'd be lucky enough to land would barely pay more than that in a month!' She took another sip of her water and studied Sasuke carefully, trying to figure out if he was testing her, 'Do I tell him? What if I do, and he lowers the number? I don't want that. …But what if I don't tell him and he finds out. He'll be pissed! What would he do to me, then?'

Eventually, she shook her head, deciding to play things smart, "Um, that's a lot of money, Sasuke, especially if I'm going to live there, too. It doesn't seem fair."

That smirk turned into a full-fledged grin, and he teased, "Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see your reaction." He offered a hand across the table, "Do we have a deal?"

Sakura eyed it, hesitating, "Hold on. First, I want you to agree to some things."

The man rolled his eyes, sitting back in the booth with an impatient scowl, "You're the one receiving help, and you have demands? That's fucking brave."

"I want you to promise not to mess with me like you did at Oasis," she ignored his childish attitude.

He nodded, "Cut back on the flirting. Got it. Anything else?"

Sakura hesitated, unsure how to word things, but eventually said, "And if any of your roommates try anything, you have to deal with them."

'I think that was okay. He probably won't make any assumptions.'

Sasuke nodded, waving a hand, "Yeah, yeah. Okay." He waited for her to continue.

Feeling better since he agreed to protect her from the other guys, Sakura reached across the table and offered her hand, "Then, I guess we're good, then."

He shook it firmly. When he released it, he tilted his head and spoke around the food in his mouth, a hand covering it so as not to be too rude, "Since I'm paying so much, do you think I can convince you to wear a maid costume?"

"I am so going to regret this," she sighed, shaking her head.

[dogtoling]

Question: Can inkfish even eat chocolate? My headcanon is that Inkfish can eat chocolate but only in very small amounts and probably with an age limit. I imagine that chocolate was brought over via trade with another species that can eat chocolate and inkfish might have gotten a little addicted to it. Kind of how squirrels are addicted to chocolate but shouldn't be eating it.

They can eat chocolate. there is a ridiculous amount of chocolate-flavored things and chocolate drizzle is something people love to put on stuff, we just had the splatfest (normally splatfests are a questionable canon source though). Chocolate is toxic to a lot of animals, just like pretty much everything is in certain amounts - humans have a weird amount of tolerance to a lot of things in nature that are meant to be toxic deterrents but we're like omg poison sooooo yummy. given how Inklings evolved to be somewhat omnivorous and really enjoy fruit, it wouldn't be far fetched to me that they also developed resistance to a lot of stuff. hell, maybe they can even eat berries that are toxic to us.

idk. Really i dont think about things like this much at all because i know that even if you deep dove into animal diets and made a comprehensive list of what human foods a squid could be able to eat, or what it could theoretically evolve to eat, it would never add up to what's in the actual game because it's first and foremost a human parallel. If we're being real, squids are carnivores and they shouldn't be eating pretty much anything except fish and crustaceans and each other and like, worms. But in the game they're eating waffles and ice cream and avocado toast and whatever the hell else they absolutely in no way should even be able to digest, lol.

So they clearly have omnivorous adaptations despite mainly being carnivorous. I like to think it's so they can supplement their diet easier because the amount of calories that an Inkling needs in a day is literally ridiculous, if we look at pre-civilization Inklings or even modern inklings that play lots of turf war. Considering HOW they move changing forms, swimming, producing that much ink, super jumping, having no bones so a LOT of their movement is almost purely through muscle, ET CETERA, you'd be REALLY GRATEFUL to be able to eat something that doesnt require chasing and is calorie-dense, and metabolizing sugars is something that would REALLY HELP THAT (which brings us to stuff like noodles, rice, bread).

Fruit is an especially notable thing and I believe it was one of the first things Inklings started eating when they started developing away from being purely carnivorous. Fruit has a LOT of sugar which is good if you can metabolize it and you're a hyperactive species that produces like their own weight in ink in like an hour if given the chance, and fruit also has a LOT of WATER which is. Well, read above. same thing. The water is really the main thing they would NEED to get through their diet, way more than solely eating meat provides on average

kind of a ramble there but it's tangentially related i promise. ALL THAT BEING SAID. there's definitely foods that have been brought cross-species through trade. i'd like to think stuff like rice and wheat actually wasn't commonplace with inklings and vegetables are VERY new in their culinary culture, especially things like lettuce. They probably mainly had things like crustaceans, fish, eggs, fruit and whatever prior. There's a piece of stage dialogue in Splatoon 1 that implies vegetables literally didn't exist until like less than a hundred years ago but idk if they just made that up.

[thelonesomequeen]

Hi ladies, this is the anon that shared the engagement info with you from when I found out. You can decide to publish or not, but after seeing all of this discourse, I felt I needed to speak.

First and foremost, I have been following this blog since I started, and have always admired the way you handled your info from anons, the hate, and overall way you handled kindness and discourse from all of us in the fandom. You’ve always handled every situation with grace, unless of course provoked because who wouldn’t handle it that way if they were constantly being attacked.

The reason I shared the engagement information was well, it was information I never dreamed of getting, I didn’t go out and look for it, and well, I was excited! I never get celebrity gossip! In fact, I’m usually always late to the party! Anyway, I shared it with Lonesome because it was a topic of discussion on this blog. It was a “are they or aren’t they engaged.” And they were! I am so grateful that they did then, and continue to protect my anonymity. Why is it so important for anyone to know who I am? So you can attack me? Call me a liar? Potentially ruin my career? Threaten my family? I knew when Lonesome was hacked and had to get Queen to help because they reached out to me so I would know in case the person trying to doxx them came after me. They wanted to continue to protect me.

And why would you even think of doing that to someone in the first place? What do you have to gain out of it? Why go after someone because they shared truthful information about your favorite celebrity? Who cares? And another question, for “Team PR.” If in the long run it ends up being”PR” (it’s 1000% not) who cares? So what? What does Chris Evans having a PR relationship have anything to do with your life? How does it affect your life? Maybe you should be asking yourself that question. Maybe you should ask why it’s so important for you to “debunk” every little FACT. And I use FACT as concrete because every little thing that has come out since the wedding has proven that Chris and Alba are married, that and the FACT that the info was shared with me from a reliable source. And for those claiming they haven’t found a marriage license, google is your friend and you might want to look at exactly how you obtain a copy from the state of MA. It might not be as easy as you think.

And so what if these ladies decided to be cool with Maddy? Have you never ever decided to give someone a chance after you’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? It’s not like Maddy wished death on anyone like some of you do on the daily over a man that has no idea you exist, and doesn’t GAF about the strife going on in his fandom. Most people deserve second chances, especially if they have proven to have changed. Again, how does the affect you?

If I had an inkling of just how unhinged (I wasn’t around earlier in the fandom) some of you are, I would have never shared the engagement info. Some of you need to seek professional help and get to the root of why you feel the need to attack and harm a person over a celebrity, and honestly, someone in your real life needs to take away your access to social media until you do. This is no way to live your life, and I wouldn’t want to be standing next to you when Karma comes, because she will come.

Thank you ladies of lonesome for all you do. I appreciate you, as do countless others. Don’t let these trolls get you down. Everything hateful and downright vile they post says more about them than about the both of you! ❤️

Thank you, friend 💜 we appreciate you so much

[crimsonedquill]

hello there! i’d like to request a fic where amit finds himself head over heels for mc and has to control himself for the sake of keeping up his Good RavenclawTM image (but MC makes that difficult with their boldness/fowardness)

have a good day :)

I love Amit he's too precious for this world lol

Thanks for the ask 🖤

Craving (Amit Thakkar x gn!MC)

Tags: Spicy fluff (SFW), bold MC

“Good,” Amit said as they walked down the corridor, his voice laced with his usual energy, “so I planned for us to have drinks in Hogsmeade on Fridays –”

“Wait, just Fridays?” MC interrupted, their eyes widening as they quickly glanced at the schedule in their hands. “Why not Saturdays too?”

“Because that’s when you need to be studying for Ancient Runes. I’ve seen your marks, you really shouldn’t be neglecting your electives –”

“But that’s all the more reason for us to spend time together!” MC laughed, their voice filled with playful defiance, before their gaze turned mischievous. “I like to think that you keep me… motivated.”

Amit swallowed, looking around him to make sure the other students in the corridor weren’t listening in. “Well… I suppose I could come over to quiz you –”

“Hmhm,” MC purred, leaning closer until their lips brushed against his ear. “And then, you could reward me for being such a hardworking student…”

Amit’s cheeks flushed crimson, his heart racing at the tone of their voice. “Are we still talking about your academic performance?”

MC chuckled, a sound that sent a delightful shiver down his spine. They were so effortlessly charming, even when they weren’t trying. Imagine the amount of self-restraint they had to exercise when they actually were.

“Amit, you’re adorable. And I think it’s adorable that you’re making all of these schedules, but… sometimes it’s good to cede control and just lose yourself in the moment, you know?”

“The moment?” he asked, looking confused. “I’m not certain I understand what you –”

Before he could finish his sentence, MC yanked him into an alcove by his tie, their lips crashing against his in a passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still as Amit’s senses were consumed by their intensity. He froze up, any chance he ever had at resisting melting away in their kiss. MC handled him with a fervour that made his head spin, giving him every chance to taste their desire, and it left him gasping for breath as they finally let go, flashing him a big grin. “See, you’re learning already.”

Amit struggled to find his words, his mind still reeling. “You really... I cannot…”

MC chuckled, their laughter a soothing balm to his overwhelmed senses as they tugged him along by the hand. “Don’t lose your head now, handsome. We’re going to be late for class.”

— — —

They had Astronomy class together later that evening, which meant Amit could finally immerse himself in his favourite subject, or so he thought. He had been diligently making changes to his star chart when MC waved them over. “Amit, could you help me adjust my telescope?”

In hindsight, he should probably have noticed that they had set up their telescope a little too far away from the other students, but his eagerness to assist overshadowed any inkling of suspicion. “Allow me,” he smiled at them, quickly moving behind the instrument as his experienced hands went to work.

“You’re my saviour,” MC’s voice came from somewhere to his left, their tone light and playful. A chuckle accompanied their words, causing Amit’s fingers to momentarily falter. “Where would I be without you?”

“With everything I know you to be, I find it slightly difficult to believe that you’re not mocking me right now,” he retorted, his focus still fixed on adjusting the telescope.

MC laughed. “No, I do mean it! In fact, I would like you to know just how grateful I am to have you…”

Before he could ask what they meant, his breath hitched in his throat as he felt a pair of lips brush against the sensitive skin of his neck. He struggled to maintain composure, his knees weakening under the intoxicating touch of MC’s teasing. “O, o Merlin –” he gasped.

MC temporarily withdrew their lips from his neck, their mischievous chuckle filling the silence. “Try to maintain your composure, dearest. Professor Shah might be looking.”

He would have liked to ask him why they wanted to remind him of that while they were busy sucking on his neck, but before he could even respond MC was back at it, placing open-mouthed kisses on his nape. He was having a very hard time controlling himself now, the urge to grab MC’s wrists and pin them against the railing washing away whatever rational thoughts he still had. They truly had the power to unravel him completely, a fact that both thrilled and terrified him.

“Mr Thakkar!” a stern voice suddenly bellowed, piercing through the haze of desire. MC’s lips swiftly abandoned his neck, and he nearly knocked over the telescope in his haste to stand up straight. Professor Shah strode toward them, her posture radiating disappointment as she planted her hands on her hips. “Would you care to explain the meaning of this?”

“MC had some trouble adjusting their telescope, Professor,” he hurriedly explained, “I was simply offering to help –”

“Aha, and I am probably to assume that what you have on your neck there is just a mosquito bite?”

“Well, as a matter of fact –”

“Detention, the both of you!” she snapped, her voice cutting through the crisp night air. “And I would like to express my deepest disappointment, Mr Thakkar. I expected better from you.”

Amit stood there, flabbergasted, as Professor Shah marched away, leaving him speechless and uncertain of what to say or do next. Eventually, he turned to face MC, who was still sporting a mischievous grin despite the reprimand. “No need for such a long face,” they said. “I already have some ideas on how to pass the time.”

— — —

They reported for detention the next day in the Transfiguration classroom. Professor Weasley seemed more than a little surprised to see Amit. “Mr Thakkar, are you feeling all right?”

“Uh, yes, Professor,” Amit answered, feigning a cough as he slightly adjusted the scarf around his neck. He wished MC would stop snickering behind him. “It’s just a simple cold.”

“Well, I must say I wasn’t quite expecting to see you here today – or ever, for that matter. You must have committed quite a heinous transgression.”

“I… I apologise, Professor. It certainly won’t happen again.”

He was grateful when Professor Weasley finally averted her gaze and told them to sit down. He walked over to the table closest to the teacher’s desk, but suddenly felt himself pulled along as MC dragged him to the back of the classroom. “What are you…?”

“She won’t notice,” MC assured him. “Now, come sit down with me.”

Remarkably, they turned out to be right as Professor Weasley only instructed them to keep quiet and start on their homework. Amit did as he was told, continuing his essay on the various applications of Dittany, but it wasn’t too long before he felt MC’s foot against his. They slid him a note: want to continue where we left off?

He gave them a sideways glance, the confusion clearly readable on his face as they had to stifle a chuckle. He frantically nodded his head in the direction of Professor Weasley.

“You’ll just have to keep quiet then,” MC chuckled, pulling down his scarf. He never stood any chance to stop them, but he noticed he didn’t really want to either. Soon, MC had him at their mercy again, lightly nibbling at his neck with an intensity he would call bold, even for them. He tried to focus on his essay, if only it was just to give the impression that he was working, but his mind was completely occupied by MC's playful advances. The sensation of their warm breath against his skin sent shivers down his spine, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Amit stole a quick glance at Professor Weasley, who seemed engrossed in grading papers. He knew he should put a stop to this, that he should focus on his punishment and behave appropriately. But the mischievous sparkle in MC’s eyes was hard to resist, and the allure of their moist lips even harder.

With a mix of both guilt and excitement, he finally turned and leaned closer to MC, their lips barely grazing each other. The tantalizing taste of forbidden pleasure sent a rush of adrenaline through his veins. He knew the danger they were in, the punishment they would risk if they were caught, but it was like none of that mattered anymore. His heart raced with a heady mixture of fear and exhilaration, his body craving more of MC’s intoxicating touch.

As his hand trembled, he cupped MC's cheek, feeling the warmth of their skin beneath his fingertips. A soft sigh escaped into his mouth as MC's tongue gently pressed against his lips, seeking entrance. The world around them faded into insignificance as he parted his lips, inviting them in. Their tongues met in a fervent dance of desire and longing that only fueled their mutual hunger. The sensation was overwhelming, each touch and taste filling him with a dizzying euphoria.

Just as things reached a fever pitch, a sudden cough from Professor Weasley shattered their moment. They hastily pulled apart, both quickly looking down at their parchment. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing.

Professor Weasley remained quiet, however, and after a few more moments she signalled that they could leave. Amit was almost sure he could see her eyebrows crease above her glasses when they slipped out of the classroom, but he wasn’t eager to find out whether she knew.

Outside, MC laughed as their hand slipped into his. “Well, that was certainly… interesting.”

“I feel like I have never been closer to certain untimely demise,” he sighed as he wiped his forehead, feeling his heart still throbbing in his chest.

“But you did kiss me back. Tell me, didn’t you find it at least a little exhilarating?”

He looked at them, taking in their pretty features, the unmistakable cocky grin that always made his heart flutter. In spite of their recklessness, he couldn’t deny he was utterly in love with them. “I do admit there’s something about you that brings out a certain… side of me.”

“Is that so?” MC giggled, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. “Well, let’s continue to explore that side, then. I can’t wait for you to tell me unsavoury things in Gobbledygook.”

He could only imagine his face as their laughter echoed through the corridor.

[theluckywizard]

Hey Lucky! i missed your first week but here's a prompt for week 2: For Rose & Bethany (in the rescue Hawke au maybe?), "I'm on fire, but I'm trying not to show it"

Heyyy Kia, Happy Friday! Not quite Fade Rescue AU, but definitely Hawke in Fade related. Have some angst! @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1047

CW: references to major character loss

Three weeks on the road, three weeks withdrawn, riding alone to the dirge of my thoughts, the insatiable hollowness inside me consuming the kindness of every gesture offered to me. But I’m still empty.

Skyhold holds a distant sort of comfort. The complications of Cullen are somewhere far behind me on the road, gathering together the remaining forces and marching them back across Orlais. My caravan moves at an intrepid pace. Everyone’s high on victory but one other. Varric feels it the way I do, but he won’t talk to me. I can feel his bitterness bearing into me when we ride. His unsympathetic glances laying on another layer of grief. Like it was somehow my fault.

And perhaps he’s right. 

Hawke would never be lost if he hadn’t joined us.

Hawke would still be here if he hadn’t loved me.

The joyful fanfare of our arrival matches the outcome at Adamant, but grates against my mood. I unload Juniper forcefully, angrily even, shooing away footmen who are only trying to be helpful for Maker’s sake. But I can’t break through the grief to be gracious.

Josephine meets us in the bailey and rather than jubilation, I’m met with anxiety, distress even.

“Inquisitor,” she greets me.

“Josie,” I reply tersely, wishing to be left alone long enough to bathe away the funk of the road and the salt of my tears and then dirty my cheeks again in the softness and solitude of my bed.

“I do not usually bother you with business as soon as you return, but– this cannot wait.”

“Can’t wait?” I ask, more aggravated than I intend. It’s not her fault, after all.

“It is– well. Delicate. And urgent. There is someone here and I have not told her yet– not officially, but I think she knows because the talk has circulated and I think you should be the one to talk with her.”

I forgot.

I knew she was en route.

That it would take a month or more to arrive from her tucked away corner of the Marches.

“Bethany,” I say softly with a nod.

“Yes. When the bell sounded I summoned her to my office,” says Josephine. I’m not sure what she knew of Hawke and I, but she’s surely heard all the rumors. She’s surely aware that we had some manner of intimate relationship. “I am sorry, Rose. But she should hear the news from the leader of the Inquisition.”

The walk into the keep feels too long and too short. I parse through what I’ll say. And how can I know the right thing when I haven’t the first inkling of what she knows? But perhaps whatever lay between Hawke and I matters little. 

I should give her the uncomplicated version

That he’d sacrificed himself to make our escape possible.

That he was a hero until the last moment.

That he gave everything to make the world right.

But I can’t do it with dry eyes.

Bethany Hawke sits placidly in one of Josephine’s chairs staring at the fire when I enter. She stands abruptly at the sound of the door and I’m struck by how little she looks like him. She is small and dark, with beautiful, saucer-like brown eyes that pierce through the orange firelight of Josephine’s office. Her dress is a simple deep plum kirtle and I gather that’s her staff leaning against the wall by the fireplace.

“Inquisitor,” she manages, her voice tense, aching.

The grief that I’ve snuffed into a bed of smoldering embers, flares up at this new fuel. I’m on fire and I’m trying not to show it.

“Serah Hawke,” I say, which feels strange given how much Hawke spoke of her.

“Could you perhaps confirm the rumors I’ve been hearing about my brother?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Your brother is–” My voice breaks, any scrap of fortitude I thought I could gather together crumbling. “He’s lost. Gone. I’m so sorry.” Bethany nods and then her eyes flick up to mine which are already tearful.

“Is he dead?” It’s a more pointed question.

“I don’t know,” I admit. She nods again. 

“He asked me to come. He said I’d be safe here. That you are doing good work for Ferelden. He didn’t want to come back to the Marches. He told me to join him here,” she says. “And I’m here… and… he’s not.”

It’s too much. I cover my mouth as if I could catch the sob that jumps out.

“I couldn’t stop him,” I choke. “He wouldn’t listen.” Bethany looks at me questioningly, her own eyes glossy as I lose all composure.

This is unprofessional.

“Once he gets an idea in his head, you could never talk him out of it,” she says softly, mournfully. Hearing her speak of him with such intimate knowledge feels like a strange salve on my aching heart. Bethany moves toward me, her steps tentative, but she takes my hands with such gentleness that I can’t help but meet her gaze. She presses her lips together in an expression of solidarity. 

“I’ve heard all about you, Inquisitor Violet,” she says, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “I feel like I know you already. He wrote about you in all his letters. I felt like I was on adventures with you two.” Of course I knew this, but the thought of it sparks a flutter of life into my heart. I sniff and wipe my eyes.

“I’ve only just returned– perhaps you’d like to come up to my quarters? I’d rather talk about what happened somewhere more comfortable,” I tell her. Tears streak over my freshly dried cheeks and I curse and wipe them again. Bethany folds me into her arms like a proper sister, squeezing me like squeezing hard enough might bring him back.

“Sorry. You looked like you needed it. I’ve needed it,” she says, releasing me.

There’s a softness about her, like an embrace personified. Like I could pour my soul into her and she’d hold with all the care in the world. And she may not look much like him, but in this I see him in her. I feel him.

And for a moment the gaping void feels softer around the edges, like it might not swallow me whole after all.