#maybe I’ll draw echo in a dress later

[iszapizza]

Tea time with Omega and Wrecker! (feat. Echo who brings them cookies)

[mahougotham]

Porcelain

(Writing BTAS version I’ll draw designs later when art block is less weird)

Oswald had followed a bunch of tea stained envelopes filled with riddles or maybe not riddles but just sentences that rhymed, to an abandoned toy department store. Already, Oswald was regretting the actions that led him here as he walked in, heels clacking against faded grime stained linoleum and the dim lights amplifying the terrifying visages of aged dolls.

“Hello?”

A mirthful laughter echoed further into the building and a single light revealed a very tall blonde man in green blouse and blue dress.

The city’s champion cautiously walked forward, not knowing what this new threat was capable of he grips the umbrella in his hand ready to shift it at any moment.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, Penguin,” the stranger scolded, “You honestly can’t look at me as if I’m a stranger! After all we’ve done this song and dance many times!”

Oswald stops in his tracks and his mouth struggled to ask the question on the tip of his tongue.

“Oh dear,” the blonde started to look upset, “You don’t remember in this life either, can you?”

“Remember what?”

“Oh! Confound it,” the blonde stomped the floor hard enough to echo five times over, “It’s bad enough that Dormouse and Hare can’t remember in this life either! Why can’t you hold anything in that head of yours? I’m almost insulted that you don’t remember me! Be thankful Dormouse can’t either! It would tear his ego apart, poor thing.”

“Who are you!?”

“I am the Mad Hatter!”

“Mad is right,” Oswald muttered.

“And I know you, Penguin. I know what you can do. I know what you’re capable of… I know you’re fond of a certain man in green?”

“Riddler and I have nothing going on,” Oswald growled as he twirled his umbrella and turned it into a gun.

The Mad Hatter just sighed, no sense in talking to a forgetful man. He pulled a playing card out from his sleeve and threw it toward the Penguin only for it to be shot down.

“You’re a sharper shooter than last time. That changes things.”

[unfortunate-arrow]

𝐀 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

A/N: For @hp-12monthsofmagic’s September prompt (“Hoggy Warty Hogwarts”). Set in July of 1905.

“Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen,” Colm O’Shea murmured as he stared ahead at the crucifix that hung in the orphanage’s small chapel. It was nowhere near as grand as St. Mary’s across the street, but it held the crucifix and the stained glass portraits of the Virgin Mary and the orphanage’s namesake, St. Jerome. 

“In nomine patris et filius et spiritus sancti,” he murmured, making the sign of the cross as he rose from the pew as a sign of finished morning prayers. Not that he had done them correctly. He’d not recited the Hail Mary, but the proper wording eluded him, and the Our Father was recited during each day’s mass.

“Ah, good to see that you have finished your prayers, Mr. O’Shea,” Sister Patrick, one of the friendlier nuns, said as she entered the chapel. “You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Colm echoed, his stomach twisting at the idea. “My ma?” 

“No, not your mother. A man, who dresses like he’s quite important”

“Oh.” He sighed. 

“Come along. We don’t want to keep someone like that waiting.” 

Colm nodded and followed Sister Patrick to the drawing room. It was probably the nicest room in St. Jerome’s, as the children were kept out unless someone important requested to visit with them. Not even the priests were important enough to warrant a reception in the parlor. Colm had always assumed that only Pope Pius X would be important enough for the parlor. Or maybe the king, but why would the king come to see the son of insurrectionists? Hell, why would anyone be interested in the son of insurrectionists?

They were standing outside the parlor before Colm had even noticed that they’d crossed half the building. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open and entered. The parlor was bright, with wide windows, and a coat of blue paint. A man, dressed in a sharply tailored but slightly odd suit looked up and offered Colm a smile and a gesture to sit down. Colm swallowed but tentatively sat down on the couch opposite the man.

“Hello, you must be Colm O’Shea. I am Caesar St. James, a professor,” the man said.

“Hello, Professor St. James. May I ask why you are here?” Colm asked. 

“Well, Mr. O’Shea, I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Colm let out a laugh. Witchcraft? Wizardry? 

“I wouldn’t be so quick to write it off, Mr. O’Shea. Magic does exist.”

“Magic, like turning water into wine? Or like I’ll make this disappear?”

“Well, I’ve never tried turning water into wine, but I can make things disappear.” 

Colm crossed his arms, his brown eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Show me.”

Professor St. James pulled out a long and thin stick of wood and murmured something as he waved it. The light went out. A second later, accompanied by a murmur, the lights were back. Colm nodded, trying not to look impressed.

“So, you’re saying that I’m magic?” he asked.

“Yes. Haven’t you noticed strange things happening around you?” Professor St. James asked.

“I have, but it’s either the devil or a saint.” 

“It’s neither dear boy. You have magic through your bones and you will be educated at Hogwarts, starting in September. You will turn eleven on August 27, correct?”

“Yes. But me? The son of insurrectionists? And why should I take your word as a bloody Englishman? The words of an Englishman mean nothing to me.” 

“Here is your letter, Mr. O'Shea, although you should watch your language. Most of my colleagues are a lot less tolerant of that language.” 

Professor St. James handed Colm a thick envelope. He took it with great care and suspicion. He opened it gradually, wedging a finger underneath the seal. 

“Dear Mr. O’Shea,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Caesar St. James

Deputy Headmaster,” he read aloud. There was more, but Colm couldn’t tear his eyes away from the letter.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Not really, Mr. O’Shea. It can be dangerous for a young wizard to not cultivate their magic skills,” Professor St. James replied.

“Fine. I’ll go to your stupid bloody school.”

“Pleased to hear that Mr. O’Shea. And, given your circumstances, I will send someone to accompany you to purchase your supplies and to be sure that you reach the platform.”

“What about the sisters?” 

“Ah, I shall explain that your parents left a trust with a prestigious school in Scotland.”

“My mother and father were convicted of planning to commit treason. There should be no money.”

“Ah, we’ll handle it Mr. O’Shea.”

Colm eyed the professor warily. Six years in an orphanage along with the reputation of being both the devil and a saint had brought on a large dose of suspicion. 

“And you’re not part of the government?” he asked.

“No, the ministry of magic and Hogwarts are separate from the non-magic, or muggle, governments. Although, there is cooperation between our two governments,” Professor St. James replied.

Colm nodded warily. It wasn’t a response that inspired a lot of confidence. At least, not for Colm.

“Well, I’ll be writing to you to inform you about who and when you’ll be going to get your school supplies. Until September, Mr. O’Shea,” Professor St. James extended his hand and Colm reached out to shake it.

“Bloody Englishman,” he muttered under his breath as he followed Professor St. James out of the parlor. “Bloody magic. Bloody Hogwarts.”

[ninhaoma-ya]

24 days of Christmas: Weihnachtsmarkt

Thanks to anonymous on tumblr and Minimini123 on AO3 for the prompts related to markets and gifts! Hope you enjoy :)

Hans/Pixabay

Small stalls were grouped together all across the marketplace, crowding together in the limited space. A butcher had draped his sausage chain over a bucket of the wares of a broom merchant, who in turn regularly swept the alley between the mulled wine stand and knitter in exchange for a pair of warm woollen socks and the occasional hot drink in long, winter days while waiting for the evening, when the market really got going.

Weihnachtsmarkts were a staple of winter islands, Nami had learned during her voyages. When seasonal holidays crept up in the calendar, it was time to return to familiar traditions and get ready for the upcoming changes. It was time to check if the broom needed new bristles and maybe fill the larders with sausages and cheeses and dried fruits and spices, all gathered neatly together. Of course, as pirates their journeys often took them to the places where such riches originated and Nami usually tried to get some of the spices with the best weight-to-value ratio to sell later on. Keeping their captain well fed was a never-ending task, and someone had to think of the finances.

But for today, she let herself relax. Snowflakes twirled in lazy pirouettes above, carried on by the rising heat from the masses of people gathered in the crooked alleys, jostling for a better look at the latest technical gizmo presented in a boisterous voice or queuing for roasted potatoes and sizzling sausages, their mouth-watering aroma teasing and alluring, inviting unwary visitors to spend too much on garlic-infused bratwurst and beer-battered herring.

As she sidled past a well-dressed lady in a fur trimmed coat, she resisted the temptation to pick her easily accessible pocket. There was something about such markets that dissolved her criminal tendencies. There was something about the warmth and cheer infused in the twinkling lights and torches flickering high above, in the myriad smells mixing in the air and drawing out long lost memories from the depths of her soul. Of the cheery notes echoing through the winding alleys, a troupe of musicians warming up for their performance at the small stage erected in the middle of the market. A top hart rocked above the crowd and she recognised the polished notes of Brook’s violin above the din of the crowd.

She spied Ikkaku and Usopp at a small stand off to the side, haggling over some tools with a grizzled old man, his white beard long enough to disappear behind the counter. Sanji rushed past, arms laden with the yet more bags and neatly wrapped packages, on his way back to the Sunny to fill their stocks once more. A loud laugh pointed her towards Luffy and Zoro, enjoying some glühwein with Shachi and Penguin.

And of course, sometimes you found more than trinkets and food.

“Here’s the map!”

A happy mink appeared beside her, waving a yellowed parchment in his white paw.

“Great, Bepo!” Nami exclaimed, taking the proffered map and looking it over. The ink had faded in places and the edges were full of symbols she had no way of deciphering, but the coordinates and nautical information was clear as day. “It looks like just the right one, what a great gift for the crews!”

“Do you think we’ll find a Ponegplyh there?”

Nami shrugged, pocketing the paper. “If Robin says so. I’ll wager she knows how to read the text on this thing.”

“We’ll see, if our captains ever get away from here.” Bepo said morosely and nodded towards the by now very loud crowd surrounding the stand selling mulled wine where Luffy had been. Usopp and Ikkaku had joined, still engaged by whatever gadget they had obtained, both curly heads bent over it in rapture where it now glinted on the table between them, their mugs forgotten to the side.

Luffy’s stretchy arm had, indeed, found one Trafalgar Law and pulled him to the group, where a smirking Zoro proffered him a mug. Nami smiled at the distrust evident on Law’s face as he warily accepted the offering, Shachi and Penguin’s energetic nodding merely deepening the frown on his face, lips pursed in a thin line.

And then he smelled the liquid and took a small sip. And smiled, eyes closing in bliss.

Nami understood the reaction; the glühwein sold at that stall was almost magical, notes of cardamom and cinnamon entwined with a rich red wine.

“We’ll get there,” she hummed as she linked arms with Bepo and went to join the rest.

AO3

ff.net

[lazysublimeengineer]

vigilante shit

Summary: Someone told his white-collar crimes to the FBI.

Or Mitsuya works as an undercover agent in the law enforcement with Naoto. Draken is an assassin working under Kisaki. A chance encounter at a bar makes their evening more intriguing.

Characters: Ken "Draken" Ryuuguuji, Mitsuya Takashi, Tachibana, Naoto, Shiba Yuzuha

(A/N: I don’t own this franchise. This wonderful manga is owned by Ken Wakui and this catchy song belongs to Taylor Swift).

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

The loud music reverberated across the murky surroundings of the bar along with the hazy swirl of the smoke around the dancefloor that surrounded the crowd who were dancing recklessly in the middle of it.

A man dressed in a suit sat in one of the available barstools and swirled the champagne in his glass idly, his languid, orchid irises roamed around the environment casually.

Tonight, was one of those casual nights in the bar where the walls were vibrating from the noises of the stereo and the jampacked crowd on the dancefloor.

Nothing new.

Will he go home empty handed again tonight?

The male started to take a sip on his champagne casually when there’s a slight crackling sound in his hearing that generated from the small device attached to him that’s invisible to the naked eye alone.

“Bravo Echo 1-1. Any progress for this evening?” A cool voice permeated on his senses at the other end of the line.

“Negative Aries.” Mitsuya resisted the urge to sigh in defeat. Maybe he should ask Naoto to give him cold cases instead of doing this mission?

The target was cool and slick. And he wasn’t spotted on the same place quite often.

He wasn’t an assassin by Kisaki for nothing.

“Right. Just stay there for a bit longer until your shift is—”

Naoto’s voice dwindled into nothing as suddenly Mitsuya’s line of sight caught someone very familiar to him.

Exceptionally tall, broad shoulders, long, midnight hair that was always tied back into a simple ponytail, well chiseled face, and those pair of deep, obsidian eyes that could bored right through one’s soul with just one intense look alone.

Ryuuguji Ken.

Or simply known as Draken.

Lady luck must be smiling upon him tonight as the man himself finally graced this bar that’s one of Kisaki’s chain of businesses.

He was dressed casually.

But it didn’t hide the fact that his presence was still magnetic because of how pleasant looking he was just how by the others ogling unashamedly at him.

The only thing that prevented them from approaching him was his stoic face and the dragon tattoo embedded on the side of his head.

It leant an intense and intimidating aura to his presence.

Mitsuya tried to be subtle in his observation, knowing that he should tread carefully now.

“I’ll call you later Aries. This is going to be a long night for me…” He murmured as he finally ended their conversation and turned off his device.

His eyes were drawn back to the glass he emptied and signaled for the waiter to refill his glass.

Mitsuya’s senses were sharp even if his eyes remained in one spot alone, he could still sense on who was approaching him without giving himself away.

Nevertheless, his nerves were skyrocketing and his heartbeat increased in tempo.

Shit.

Draken was sitting beside him.

He fervently hoped within himself that he hadn’t blown his cover.

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

Draken sat on the available barstool beside the man dressed in nines.

He didn’t even look at him that long. But one single glance from him made him sure that this was the same man who possessed those pair of startingly pomegranate orbs who was observing him from head to toe.

 Draken inwardly admitted that the guy had a comely looking face. The kind of presence which you would probably see in the pages of GQ magazines.

However, he wasn’t about to be distracted by those well-defined features alone.

He didn’t last in his job right now if he got sidetracked by those simple things. Although he gotta admit that the male had a talent by being subtle unlike the other people who were being obvious in their stares.

One of his hands signals for the bartender to approach him and get his order.

The bartender turned out to be a young lady who possessed dark, brown eyes and long, wavy chestnut locks. She sported a cool yet serious expression on her face and a voice that meant not be fuck over by a drunk customer while she’s on the job. She probably experienced those kinds of customers that it wasn’t new to her to put them in their places.

“What can I get you?”

“On the rocks please.” He answered simply.

The woman nodded in silence and began to prepare his drink in another aisle.

As soon as the bartender was out of their sight again, he finally took a simple, cursory glance at the male who was nursing his drink on his hand before his eyes settled back to his own spot once again.

“Why are you looking at me?” He asked directly.

“What do you mean by that?” The lavender haired man asked innocently. His voice was fine as a silk and reminded him of the cool, charming breeze of the wind in the morning.

He didn’t have the time to be distracted. Damn it.

“I mean what I said. You’re staring at me earlier. Why?” Draken asked in a low voice.

“I guess I’m wondering why you sit here in all places where you could be sitting more in a joyful crowd rather than here.” The other replied smoothly as he sipped from his drink.

Draken sat up straighter, narrowing his eyes, although there were some vestiges of a smile curling around his lips. “You’re new here, right? Haven’t seen you here before.” Two can play at this game. Draken had a feeling that he won’t get anything straightforward from him soon.

“Yeah. So are you.” The man finally looked at him with a small smile on his face and Draken couldn’t help but to gaze a little bit longer, as if he was bewitched by the good-looking man in front of him.

A light chuckle left his lips before his eyes settled on the approaching bartender who handed him the drink with that cool, stoic expression on her face. He took the glass and thanked her before she left.

“So, what’re you doing here?” Draken asked nonchalantly.

“A need to have a lively crowd  in front of me while drinking.” He answered coolly. “What about you?” He asked back.

“A strong need for some great whiskey with ice.” He quipped back.

“Well, you could’ve had it at home or any place where you can get them into.” The male replied with a serene smile on his face.

“They serve it better here. I love the taste.” Draken answered lightly.

The bartender came in once again with another drink as soon as they finished drinking from their glasses. “And our services are also impeccable. Saves you time from self service at home.” The woman drawled out smoothly.

“Of course. You’re one of the best around here Yuzuha.” Draken chuckled lightly as the bartender rolled her eyes playfully and walked past them.

“Don’t sweet talk to me you idiot. I’m not giving you any discount for those drinks.” She retorted with one of her smart, aleck remarks.

Draken shook his head in fond exasperation before he turned back to the male who was looking at him with an arched brow and that everlasting smile still present on his lips.

A smirk curled around his lips and brought out something from his pocket, slipping it subtly beside him before standing up and taking his drink.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you ‘round here.” Were his last words before he disappeared and blended with the crowd.

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

Mitsuya stared at the small piece of paper handed to him and read the small, few words that brought an intrigue smile to his lips.

‘Room 409. Top left of the building. 4th flr. I’ll expect you there soon.’

He guessed that his efforts were worth it after all.

He got him where he wanted him to be.

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shit again

(A/N: Remember that one timeline in future during and after Valhalla arc? Where Takemichi interviewed Draken in a cell while being on a death row? And that one bad timeline where Takemichi time leap and was one of the admins of Toman? Both timelines, Mitsuya’s fate, identity and whereabouts were unknown because he wasn’t mentioned by the characters which is odd considering he’s one of the Founding members of Toman and one of the important characters in the franchise. There’s a possibility that he’s dead in both timelines. But it should have been mentioned implicitly there. Then I have a weird, crazy HC what if Mitsuya wasn’t part of their lives and in their gangs but instead working as an undercover agent in a law enforcement alongside with Naoto? Their target is Draken because he is one of the assassins working for Kisaki. It’s not a farfetched idea because I remembered that Draken told Takemichi before that Kisaki ordered him to kill those unnamed characters under his orders. Of course, this is all an AU of mine so don’t take this seriously. I’m a big fan of Mission Impossible movies so some of the elements such as the codenames and setting were loosely inspired from there. Ending is open ended so it’s up to you readers on what probably happens next to them. But who knows? If I’m inspired enough, I might write a short multi-chaptered fic of this in the future).

[thousand-winters]

Alright alright alright.

The stars too, they tell of spring returning #7 & 11

I was lost for you to find #1, 2 & 4

We're all walking wounds #7, 2, 14, 15

Loving echoes (In loving memory of Emperor Belos) #1, 9, 12, 15

Yeah that’s a lot my bad. Do as many or as little as you’re comfortable with, I just really love all your stories and the dynamics between Darius, Hunter, and Eberwolf. Many characters in toh can carry their own show and these three are no exception and you did it very well. Looking forward to whatever else you put out!

Once again, I’m procrastinating enough that I might just answer everything 😂 But maybe I do need to chill a lot, so it’s probably fine. Here we go!

The stars too, they tell of spring returning

7: Where did the title come from?

Ohhhh, okay, so this one comes from the musical Spring Awakening, aka, my all time favorite. I only have this fic in the series, but this one and the sequel fic I have planned for it come from the song Those you’ve known (hence the name of the series). Give it a listen if you want! I actually have a very detailed animatic with it in my head, featuring Darius, his mentor, Hunter and a LOT of palismen. Unfortunately, I can’t draw, let alone animate, so you’re getting it in written form. 

Spring Awakening is a musical that... gets dark, ngl, but at the end of the day it’s hopeful, and that song in particular makes me think a lot about the regrets both Darius and Hunter keep, but also the knowledge that ultimately they can and will heal. 

This line hits hard: Those you’ve pained may carry that still with them. All the same, they whisper “all forgiven”.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I’m really enjoying writing the little connections between Darius’s side of the narrative and Hunter’s! I also had been pretty hesitant about writing about the Boiling Isles because we truly don’t know at all what’s happening there, but I have ideas and I’m very happy letting them out. You are getting some theories in fanfiction form, haha. 

It’s a bit ambitious, considering I’m not used to this kind of... more action-oriented story telling, but that’s part of the fun!

.

I was lost for you to find

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Truthfully? I was straight up like “I can’t write that many adoption stories without them starting to turn out repetitive”, haha. I wanted to try another angle, and I thought it would be a cute idea to do something in which Darius and Hunter could see themselves reflected in, kind of a “look how far we’ve come” thing. Plus, this way I got to feature a lot of Eber.

2: What scene did you first put down?

The visit to the jaguar! I almost never write the beginnings first, but shhhh. Specifically, the joke with the “hey, she looks like you” was one of the first things going there, and I knew that I wanted to repeat it later with Darius saying it this time, but I didn’t write that down until I actually got to that part.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

“It’s true, pup, they too are furless and need lots of nurturing.” because I think I’m really funny sometimes asjhgfhjdsg I’m a clown, but one that cheers for herself. 

.

We're all walking wounds

7: Where did the title come from?

Okay, so my titles are either straight to the point (”Home”, “Dress”) or from a song, and if it’s the latter, they’re either from a musical OR from my new favorite artist that I acquired earlier this year, haha. Lowkey, if you guess what artist is it, I would write you anything you wanted ajsgfjsdg it’s not that easy to guess especially because I messed up the line in one title 🤣

Anyway, whether I choose the title because the whole song fits or just the line fits varies. This one was a “the whole song fits” kind of deal. But I’ll give you the verse because it’s what I was thinking of specifically while writing it: 

“We’re all walking wounds

Brains and bodies are bruised

Let me take care of you.”

2: What scene did you first put down?

The scene where Hunter realizes Darius’s magic isn’t working. Because I was very excited to write that, mostly. I truly never start with the beginning, rip asjgfjdsg

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

As a sort of moral lesson kind of deal? I mean, not really, I’m just a humble fanfic writer 😆 But I do like spreading the “it’s okay to let others take care of you” agenda. I think it’s also nice to see that it’s not only one-sided care, Hunter cares about Darius as much as Darius cares about him. And they both need to learn to let people in. 

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

Well, I do like to think I improve a little bit with each thing I write. That’s true for all writers, right? I feel like I have trouble with writing dialogues and with pacing, but hopefully each new thing helps to make it better!

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Loving echoes (In loving memory of Emperor Belos)

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I think something that’s not always considered is that you can still harbor affection for someone who hurt you if it was someone you loved, no matter how much you are aware that they treated you terribly and how much you want to not feel that way. The feelings don’t disappear just because you wish they weren’t there, and there’s a lot you have to come to terms with when there are “good parts” you can remember in between the mistreatment.  

Hunter genuinely cared for Belos, and with that beginning scene in Eclipse Lake, I got the impression that there were truly times in which Belos played the caring uncle role. Rare, not very long-lasting, but they were there. And that was enough to generate conflicting feelings. 

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Yes and no? I played around with the idea of making it about the previous Golden Guard, but I didn’t really have anything concrete with that idea before I settled on this one. 

One “alternative” thing I did consider was if Hunter was going to go alone to the castle or not, but it was also just an idea before I decided that no, he would be with his family. 

12: What do you like least about this fic?

*Insert principal Bump’s voice* Wow, I grossly misjudged the tone of this.

I’m just suffering a little because while the part about being able to feel affection for someone who hurt you is still true, I did not expect Belos to do something that would make Hunter start being angry at him instead of afraid. Thanks to them was... world changing ahsfghdsgfhjdgh

Aside from that, pacing. I feel like I didn’t give enough time to breath in between the reflections at the beginning and the actual scene at the castle. 

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

I never learn anything *finger guns*. No, I don’t know... maybe that I can actually cry writing something? Because I did cry while writing some of it ajsgfjsdg

.

Thank you so much for the questions!!! It makes me really happy to know people like what I write 🥺💕 I’m currently working on the update for The stars too, they tell of spring returning and a one-shot, and I hope you’ll like them once they’re ready!!!

[l-r-christian]

Title: 'Tied to one' part four

Summary: The siblings had learned that a witch had rewrote their soul strings mean while Mikael had went after Freya and Y/N as Hayley's misdeeds are undone. Would the siblings forgive her? Or lose Elijah forever?

Warnings: Angst like a lot of it, Angry Mikaelsons. Loss of a unborn child, Violence, Y/N being a badass

A/N: I noted that I kinda made this part every long too. So it makes me wonder do guys like it when I do long parts when doing series? Let me know ☺

Elijah and Klaus kept Hayley close as they walked though the Ninth ward and they couldn't help but notice it was quite. Then they heard screaming and smelled burning of wood and they went to see what was happening with the witches as they hadn't done a trial in so long.

"They are doing a witch trial." Rebekah whispered as they watched witches dragging out another witch that crying and Hayley knew who the witch as she was the one that did the spell that rewrote the soul string.

"Please, don't do this! Please, I beg of the Ancestors! I don't want to die!" The witch shouted as they tied the sobbing witch to a stake. And Elijah held Hayley back from rushing forward to try and save the witch.

"Hayley, we not stop this. Davina is Regent and we agreed to not enter witches affairs."

"Regent, her rights?"

"Annilse for rewriting soul strings and going against the Ancestors. Your punishment is death as you have brought danger to all Nine covens. Your last words?" Davina asked holding up a torch of fire as the witch swallowed her sobs and decided if she was going down she was taking Hayley with her.

"Yes, my Regent. Hayley Marshall, Queen and Alpha of Crescent wolf pack had me do the spell for her own personal gain! The Original soulmate is a witch!" The witch cried out shocking the witches and they whispered among themselves as Elijah let Hayley go. A heartbreak settled over the siblings as Hayley looked at them teary eyed the sound of a burning witch echoed out and the thought of this witch dying because of Hayley hit the siblings with guilt at slowly crawled up their backs.

"She is lying."

"Hayley, we have lived long enough to know that one on their death bed has no reason to lie. Once we find our mother you will explain yourself." Elijah said rather coldly walking pass the female hybrid as the others glared at her following Elijah.

At the Abattoir Freya was helping Y/N with spell to find out what was wrong with her soul strings as both were getting along. Freya found the young witch adorable believe she was a good fit for Finn as they bonded over her possible niece or nephew that Y/N carried.

"It seems my soul string to Finn is pure but it is also saying the other four."

"Impossible, Hayley is their soulmate." Freya said frowning looking over Y/N's shoulder looking at the paper seeing the names of her siblings written our elegantly.

"I knew something was wrong but this magic is to much for me to reverse." Y/N said as Freya smiled taking her hand.

"Don't worry I'll fix it for you, dear Y/N."

"NIKLAUS! Come out a face, you mistake of a man!" Y/N and Freya heard Mikael yell as the witches looked at one another before headed out to the catwalk seeing the vampire standing there. Mikael looked up seeing the witches smirking at them which made Y/N shiver at his dark look.

"Ah my traitorous daughter and the tainted soulmate. Niklaus left you both unprotected."

"I am not a traitor for protecting my siblings from you father. I don't need Nik to protect us." Freya said glaring at her father as Y/N swallowed watching Freya use her magic against Mikael. It was a bloody fight with Freya drawing the most blood from Mikael as Y/N watched Freya fall feeling drained.

"Y/N run!" Freya shouted as the witch didn't need to be told twice and took off running with Mikael close behind. Y/N yelped feeling Mikael grab her by the neck and the witch stabbed his side fighting back as much as she could.

"So the abomination is having another child? How much would it kill him to lose you both?" Mikael said having pinned Y/N to the floor as her heart raced unable to speak as the vampire had his hand around her thoat. Panic and fear filled Y/N feeling Mikael's hand on her abdomen making her struggle to get free when pain shot though her as she let out a pain fill scream and Freya trying to make her way to them both.

"Shame to lose something so lovely."

"Shame....you'll....be enslaved.....monster." Y/N coughed up blood and before Mikael could kill her. The witch smashed a small bottle against the vampire's head and said a quick spell under her breath as Mikael fell over unconscious then rolled over whimpering curling into herself trying to stop the bleeding.

"I can't believe you!" Rebekah growled angrily as they entered the Abattoir unable to find Esther and Hayley was about to apologize again but Elijah stopped her seeing Freya up on the catwalk hurt. The scent of blood hit their noses as Elijah bit into his wrist to heal Freya.

"Y/N......father.....witch room." Freya rasped out before letting Elijah heal her while both Finn and Klaus rushed to the room seeing the two. Mikael was still unconscious as Y/N was curled in a ball crying and Finn went went to his soulmate while Klaus went to Mikael.

"Darling, shhhhh I'm here here now."

"I'm sorry.....I tried." Y/N whimpered burying her face in Finn's neck as both him and Klaus couldn't hear the second heartbeat and realized what she meant.

"Get her clean up brother. I'll take care of this."

A moments later with everyone cleaned up and Freya explained what happened and what she heard. Y/N had her abdomen wrapped with bandage and dressed in one of Finn's shirts as she walked into the den and the rest of Mikaelson was taken back seeing her with a fire in her gorgeous eyes when she walked in.

Mikael stood growling angry at the witch that got of him and surprised to see his second oldest following behind her then moved to attacked the witch to try to use her to get out before anyone could stop him.

"Kneel!" Y/N commanded glaring at the vampire as right away Mikael fell onto one knee shocking the others. Y/N stood in front of Mikael with fiery eyes as to the siblings it was the look of a Queen and to Klaus this was the woman he could see hisself waging a war for.....his true Queen.

"What have you done, witch?"

"My grandmother's old command spell. It only works on vampires and as long as I have this mark," Y/N raised her hand showing what looked like a tattoo of a chain attached to a moon as the same mark was on Mikael's hand, "you cannot hurt me and follow every order I give."

"My my spoken like a true Queen there, love." Klaus says smirking walking behind her placing his hands on her shoulders leaning close to her ear looking at Mikael with a glint in his blue eyes. Klaus was enjoying this a little too much as the others stood by watching.

"Now what does the Queen wish to do?"

"Tell him the truth about the baby." Y/N's words made Klaus smirk darkly looking at Mikael before letting Finn help her sit down and now Mikael was confused as Finn fuzzed over the small witch.

"Well dear father, the baby belonged to Finn here. As it appears that real soulmates are able to have children with vampires." Klaus said still smirking as Mikael look at an angry Finn with a apologetic look on his face as Elijah stepped behind their father snapping his neck letting the body fall.

"He'll come in handy to find mother. Now Hayley what poor dear Annilse said before her death." Klaus said looking at the female hybrid as Freya and Y/N looked confused.

"What is going on?"

"Hayley here had a witch rewrite our soul strings because she wanted Elijah." Kol said as the witches looked at Hayley who looked away ashamed and Y/N stood up teary eyed.

"You took everything from me just so you could have something that wasn't yours?"

"I loved Elijah away before you did! I deserved him no......" Hayley was cut off by Y/N slapping her shocking everyone. Hot tears fell freely down Y/N's face as she glared at Hayley who was holding her cheek. The soul strings that connected the witch to the siblings sparked with color was stronger this time but died out.

"I lost my baby! Finn lost a chance to be a father all because of you! You took everything away from them all because you weren't happy! And I hope you fucking burn." Y/N said leaving the den with Finn following after to comfort her.

"You got an innocent witch killed and my brother lost his child because you loved Elijah? How dare you, Hayley." Freya said walking out to check on Y/N leaving the female hybrid with the other four Mikaelsons. Elijah couldn't look at Hayley as his heart ached and blamed hisself for it all even though it really wasn't his fault and Rebekah covered her mouth as her own tears wetting her cheeks as Kol sat next to her comforting her.

"I'm sorry, if I know this would hap...."

"You wouldn't have done it? If you truly loved Elijah, you would have let him happy like he had done when you married Jackson." Klaus said watching Elijah leave then followed after because he knew guilt was eating away at his brother. Both Rebekah and Kol left also leaving Hayley alone as Mikael wike having heard everything.

"I may be a monster but I wouldn't have never hurt any of my children the way you have hurt Elijah."

Elijah stood in the doorway seeing Y/N laying in bed and swallowing his fear the Original walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed his back to her. Elijah was unable to look at her as his guilt ate away at him. The vampire jumped feeling the witch grab his hand and looked seeing that she laced their fingers together.

"Please don't blame yourself."

"I'm sorry.... I can't help it. I keep wondering if I had just kept my distance from her....to wait for you. Maybe you wouldn't be hurting." Elijah said voice cracking from unshed tears as Y/N rolled onto her back shifting to hold Elijah feeling tears hit her shoulder making her heart break hearing Elijah cry silently into her neck.

"Shhh Eli, I don't blame you." Y/N whispered rubbing his back seeing Finn standing in the doorway and watched him walk in. Finn placed a hand on his brother's back as he sat on the bed while Finn was taken back to when they were children how Elijah looked up to his big brother being comforted by the older Mikaelson when Mikael got to rough with the boy. Both Y/N and Finn calmed Elijah easing his blame away while Freya sat with Davina to undo the spell Hayley had done.

"I can't believe Hayley would do such a thing." Rebekah said huddled in Kol's arms as he was comforting his baby sister still angry that Hayley would do such a thing more so the price of the spell cost an innocent witch's life and Finn's unborn child all because the woman loved Elijah.

"The guilt Elijah will be carrying will crush him." Kol said softly feeling the bed dip with Klaus's weight as their older brother lay a comforting arm over the both.

"Both Finn and Y/N are easing his guilt away."

Morning sunlight shined into the bedroom waking Elijah feeling a body on him making him freeze then relaxed catching Y/N's scent as realized that Hayley wasn't in the bed. Y/N woke yawned and Finn woke also leaning over kissing the witch's head then ruffled Elijah's hair making the noble vampire smile at the familiarly.

"Morning boys." Y/N muttered sitting up with Elijah's help and she frowned feeling the knots in her hair realizing she hadn't wrapped her hair.

"Shower darling, Elijah will help you with your hair." Finn says helping her out of help bed as the sound of everyone moving around reached them. Elijah felt a twinge of familiarly as he did Y/N's hiar helping her put it up into two buns then Elijah helped her get dressed seeing her flinching due to her wound.

"Elijah." Hayley croaked out as the vampire paused seeing the hybrid in Y/N's doorway, Hayley looked a bit like a mess her eyes red and puffy from crying. Elijah looked away from Hayley, his heart squeezing in pain but felt Y/N rub his hand with her thumb.

"I'm going to see Freya and Davina." Y/N said softly leaving the room glaring at Hayley as she passed the hybrid. Hayley moved towards Elijah only for the Original to step back from her and pain flashed in Hayley's eyes looking up at Elijah.

"Elijah....I'm sorry....I didn't....."

"You didn't think this would happen? Hayley, you know more than anyone that all magic comes with a price " Elijah tells Hayley looking at her and Hayley saw the heart break on Elijah's face.

"I....just didn't think this was the price....Elijah, I just wanted you back."

"I'm sorry Hayley....I can't." Elijah says walking pass her not even looking at the woman as fresh tears fell down her face.

"So how do we undo the spell? Also why didn't affect Finn's soul string with Y/N?" Kol asked as everyone was in the room while the three witches stood by a bowl.

"Finn was dead when you met her so the spell couldn't undo their soul string as for undoing the spell. We need your blood then Y/N here to say the spell to unwritten it." Davina explained as everyone did as told then watched the ash gray strings burst with color. The siblings looked at Y/N as everything came back to them.

Rebekah was the first to move hugging Y/N who hugged back as Kol came up behind her hugging them both. Kol buried his face in her neck taking in the witch's scent. Once everyone settled down, they focus on looking for Esther. Mikael had his arms crossed watching his children working out what to do more so how Klaus wanted to make sure that the girls wouldn't get hurt.

"Can I help?" Hayley asked getting the sibling's attention before Klaus allowed her to join as Elijah was cold to her while talking about how to stop Esther. Hayley watched from outside of the gate as the siblings made sure that Y/N and Freya was going to be safe.

"I will be with them. I'll watch over them." Mikael said as the siblings looked at him then left with Hayley. In the den Y/N was writing out a spell in her grimoire as Mikael stood by as Freya stopped watching him.

"I wanted to apologize even though there is no way to undo what I have don. But I was told by Esther that you were the bast....Niklaus's soulmate but I am slowly learning that my anger is driving my children away." Mikael tells Y/N as she looked up at the older vampire seeing he was sincere.

"Thank you, Mikael." Y/N said softly as the vampire sat next to her and Freya smiled walking in with tea and the three enjoyed the quiet. There was a crash and Y/N didn't have to use her command seal as Mikael was quick to protect the witches. It was undead hybrids that Klaus had killed back in Mystic Falls as Y/N and Freya set up spells to help Mikael. When the siblings came home to see Mikael dragging dead bodies as Y/N and Freya was burning the bodies.

"What happen?!"

"Our mother sent your dead hybrids to kill us well more like father."

"You survived Mikael." Esther said glaring at her husband as Mikael glared back as the siblings saw how their father hid Y/N behind him.

"And you almost killed my children's soulmate."

"Since when did you care for the little wench?" Esther said glaring at Y/N believing the little witch stole Finn from her. Mikael growled ready to kill the Original witch when she suddenly fell and Klaus stood smirking.

"Enough of that. Shall we get mother's coffin Elijah?"

"We shall Niklaus." Elijah said smirking seeing the dagger in Esther's back. After placing Esther in a coffin and Freya placed many spells on it so it could never open they placed the coffin behind a brick wall and sealed it up.

"Shall we have a ball? I believe we deserve to celebrate." Klaus said smirking as his siblings chuckled agreeing with him before setting in the den feeling oddly comfortable around Mikael as they planned a ball.

[cursed-domain]

Experiments

Mahito x Reader, WC ~3.9k

Mahito’s been testing out his powers for a while now. He wants to do something different with his latest victim. Something a little more... human.

warnings: NSFW and Dark Content - NONCON if that is not your thing do not read any farther. You have been warned. Also fear, tears, kidnapping, possessiveness, oral sex, biting, slapping and uh. Mahito. I think he deserves a warning of his own.

You stayed out just a little too late last night. And you walked home alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that was a bad idea, but - the bar was right down the street from your apartment building, and your friends were - well, they were scattered, and they were hard to find, and you were sure that you could walk straight if you only tried. Your heels were only a couple inches high. 

Maybe you’d somehow fallen right down a drain in the sidewalk last night. Maybe it was too dark to notice, and you were more tipsy than you thought. But that theory doesn’t fit with your last memory aboveground. It doesn’t explain the presence you felt behind you, the feeling that something heavy and hateful had manifested right over your shoulder. 

Most importantly, there are no scratches or scrapes anywhere on your body. You can’t have fallen. You were brought here. Hidden away beneath the street into a tunnel you had no idea existed. And your host has been kind enough to keep you in perfect condition. You’re not even dirty from where you’ve clearly been crumpled on the floor - somehow, the stone corridor is perfectly clean.

As you sit up, all these thoughts run through your head in a matter of seconds. Your shell-shocked stream of consciousness doesn’t give way to panic until a hand from behind you lands on your shoulder. Its owner doesn’t even let you scream - he claps his other hand over your mouth before you have the chance to open it, and leans down so that you feel his hot breath in your ear. “Boo.” 

You strain against his hand when you hear his voice. It doesn’t sound - well, you’re not quite sure what you expected a kidnapper to sound like. Maybe a lower voice. Certainly a sinister one. But he just sounds excited and mischievous, like a child who’s gotten away with a prank. So lighthearted in what is, for you, such a dire situation - it sends a shiver up your spine to imagine his grin.

You don’t have to imagine for long. His hand slinks from your shoulder up your neck, taking root in your hair and yanking your head back so you’re forced to look up. It is dim in the tunnel, but you see his face clearly. You register, in a far-off place in your mind, that it is pretty, almost feminine. Your impression is that his face is far too fine compared to the coarseness of his mouth and his hands, even with the strange scars stitching their way across the unnaturally smooth skin.  

“Don’t look so terrified. Or do. I kinda like it.” Your eyes stretch even wider. “Yeah - I really like it, actually. Stay just like that.” When he speaks for longer, you notice the eerie quality of the cavern - the way it causes sounds to echo and reverberate down its walls. Farther down, you hear the drip-drip-drip of dirty water hitting the floor. But here - not even a drop. It’s as if the space has been cleared of its usual filth, just for you. “Okay,” he says, “I actually wanna hear you, too.” He doesn’t wait for a response before taking his hand from your mouth and letting go of your hair. 

Your heels - they must have fallen off. Or he took them off. In any case - you can run. You know it’s pointless as soon as you stand up. You know even the time you take to rise to your feet is enough for him to grab onto you again. But you have to try. So you do. You’re surprised to get any distance at all. You’re shocked to have made it ten paces - twenty - thirty. Even sprinting with the adrenaline-spiked speed of someone who fears for her life, this shouldn’t be possible. But you find yourself starting to hope. You’re fast, and maybe he was caught off guard. Maybe, just maybe, you can make it to the light you see shining at the mouth of the tunnel. It’s not that far away. And once you’re out there, on the street, he won’t be able to do anything. You’ll make it home and forget this ever happened. Even now, you’re wondering if it’s all a dream. If you’re going to wake up once you hit that light - closer now, so close - snug in your bed, wondering how you managed to make it home last night but relieved that you did. Yes. That has to be it. This isn’t real, and you’re going to escape it so, so soon -

A rush of cold air streaks past you, and your captor appears in front of you, grinning as he blocks your path. You try to step to the side, but he’s already there. Back the other way - he beats you again. You feel your will collapse in on itself as he steps forward and snakes his hand around your waist, laughing unabashedly as you struggle. “Not bad,” he says. “Of course, I gave you a pretty big head start. But still. You run pretty fast for someone who could barely walk the night before.”

You’re so close to him that you’re sure he must be able to hear your heart pounding. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself back, you find yourself looking up at his face again. His eyes are pretty, too. But they’re mismatched - one is a light gray and the other is deep blue - and unblinking. Seeing them up close only makes his presence more unnerving. He grins crookedly as you make eye contact with him, staring back without saying a word.

“What - why -” you break eye contact, choosing instead to stare at the ground where his bare feet are nearly on top of yours. “Please. Let me go.”

“Nuh-uh. No way.” He pushes you back at arms length and leans over you, his face coming so close to yours that your eyes unfocus trying to look at him. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Done…”

“Mhm.” He takes your shoulders and turns you around, giving you a light shove to get you moving. You shudder - your dress has an open back, so his hand didn’t just touch your clothes, but your bare skin. And it’s so short, too. He’s probably staring as you walk, tracing your curves with those unnatural eyes. He looked down when he had you pressed up against him. He didn’t even try to hide it. 

“That’s far enough.” You stop, not even daring to turn around. He slithers around you instead, dragging his hand over the back of your dress again as he passes, keeping a hold on you and pulling you close again. “You’re gonna help me out with some things today, alright?”

When you hesitate, his long fingernails tighten against your skin. He’ll draw blood if he presses any harder. “What…what do you want?”

“I’ve been doin’ some experiments down here.” His nails drag down the curve of your back, only stopping at your hips. “Been learning what I’m capable of. I’ll show you the other test subjects if I have to but… I think I’ve already convinced you to cooperate, right?” He tugs on the hem of your dress, sliding his fingertips underneath the edge of the thin fabric. “You don’t seem ready to meet anyone right now, anyways. Not as if they’re really in a state to talk to you.”

You stare blankly, resisting the urge to squirm as his hand trails up the back of your thigh. Not for the first time, you wonder if you’re going to be leaving this place alive.

“Lots of room down here,” he says. “Plenty of dark corners. But I think I’m gonna keep you right here.” 

“Please..” you say.

“Hmm?” He smiles a second later, once he understands. “Please don’t kill you, right? Don’t mutate your pretty body and then throw you somewhere no one will ever find you?” Your mind amends mutate to mutilate. The intellectual victory does nothing to comfort you. “Don’t worry. ‘m not gonna do that. Not yet, anyways.” His nails are scraping very high on your thigh, now, and the other hand is weaving its way through your hair. His fingers seem to bend strangely around you, as if they have no set form at all, as if they’re molding to best fit your body as he claims it piece by piece. “You’re just gonna help me out a little, okay? “You’re gonna help me figure out what else I’m capable of.”

He grips the top of your head and forces it up and down, mimicking a nod, laughing impishly as you glare up at him. “So sweet of you. We’ll take this one step at a time, alright?”

You don’t understand until he leans over you, running a fingertip across your lips to part them slightly before meeting them with his own. You try to recoil, but the hand toying with your dress runs up your back and presses you forward, forcing you deeper into the kiss instead. It’s unexpectedly gentle, at first, but as your body is forced flush against his it becomes more messy, more hungry. He shoves his tongue against yours and grips your hair tight enough for it to hurt, only drawing back for long enough to bite your lip and watch a string of drool drip across the faint indent he’s left behind. You gasp for breath until he swallows up your mouth again, using his tongue to reach every place he can. 

You stay in place even when he relaxes his grip. He only stops to speak once he has, it seems to you, tried every kind of kiss he can think of - fast, slow, shallow, violent, hungry, sloppy. “You’re doing good,” he says, flashing the same smile as before. “Good start. Amazing, really…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, and the softer smile is replaced by a cold grin. “Take your dress off.” 

“Wh -”

“Take it off. Take off whatever you have underneath it, too. I don’t care about seeing it.”

“But -” 

“But - but -” He laughs again, practically giggles as he mocks your faint protests. “You don’t wanna die, either, do you?”

Mute, you shake your head.

“Actually…” He turns you around again, and you think you hear him sigh faintly as his hips snap against yours. “You’re taking too long. I’ll just do it myself.” He gives you no time to react before tugging on the zipper of your short dress, so violently that it hitches on the teeth and nearly breaks off. Only the second time does he do it right, pulling it all the way down in a smooth motion. The dress only covered from your lower back to a few inches down your thighs, anyways, and now even that protection is stripped away. The front of your body is exposed, too, as he tugs the thin garment along with your panties down to the stone ground beneath your feet.

Every muscle in your body tenses as his own bare skin collides with yours, his worn pants pulled down to rest alongside your dress. “Didn’t even wear anything beneath the dress up here,” he mutters. He reaches from behind you, groping your tits with no regard for the way you whine and squirm. “Making it so easy for me, aren’t you?”

“No,” you gasp. “Didn’t wear anything there. I should have -”

He claws his nails over the delicate peaks of your breasts, and you bite hard on your lip to keep from crying out. “Interesting. That’s a sweet spot, huh?” You shiver as he clamps down on you again. “You got any more I should know about?”

“No…” You lie, as if anything you say now will help you. He’s tracing every inch of your skin already, down your stomach and hips and up your thighs, squeezing and pinching when you least expect it, mapping you out like you’re the first person he’s been this close to in his life. 

“You sure?” He taps his fingertips along the creases that connect the tops of your thighs to your body, pressing close against you and breathing hot in your ear. Making sure you hear and feel his excitement. “We’re gonna test that out, too. So spread out your legs. They’re getting in the way.” 

You clench your fists tight and do as he says, shifting on either side to allow him easy access to every part of you. Still, you reflexively pull your hips back as his fingers climb their way towards your cunt, cringing when your sudden motions make his cock pulse against your skin. 

“What’re you doing that for?” He cups his hand between your legs, ending your desperate attempts to squirm away. “Not like you’re going anywhere, right?” He pulls his hand back, showing you the wet sheen that’s rubbed off on his fingers. “I don’t think you would even if you could. But if you want, I’ll let you run again. Give you ‘til the count of ten before I start chasing you. Maybe even twenty or thirty. Maybe I’ll let you see the street before I drag you back here.” He lets go of you, grabbing your arms and using them to turn you back the way you ran before. “We’ll do it now, actually. Run! I’ll be not-quite-right-behind you.”

You shake your head. 

“Come onn. It’ll be fun. Or - well, I’ll have fun.” Your feet stay rooted to the ground. He looks genuinely disappointed, for a moment, as if he actually expected you to take him up on his inane offer. “Fine.” He shoves down on your shoulders, and you follow the motion, crumpling down to your knees with no resistance. “You can entertain me this way instead, then.” Now that he’s in front of you again, you look for the first time. You’re equal parts curious and repelled by the stitch-like markings that continue down the rest of his body. If you were thinking clearly, you’d wonder if they were perhaps tattoos, and why anyone would choose to do something like that to themselves. But the crisscrossing lines guide you far too quickly down the length of his frame, forcing your curious eyes down below his hips before you have the sense to close them. 

He tilts his head, sizing up your expression before flicking his eyes down your body and then back up to meet yours. “You’ve definitely done this before. So do it right.” Your eyes are almost as wide as your mouth as he closes the last inches between you and him. “Make it feel how it’s supposed to.” You nod blanlky as you wonder how you’re supposed to fit him all the way in your mouth. Maybe you won’t have to. He’s so obviously inexperienced, so eager… maybe you can end this quickly. 

You drag the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock, forcing yourself to look up at him as you give the same slow treatment to the sides and the tip before taking the shaft in your hand. He stares back, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth as it works over his cock. He’s breathing harder already, less than halfway into your mouth, almost letting the breaths tip over the edge into moans as your tongue flicks up his length again. It takes a concerted effort not to close your eyes, to not let your resolve crumble. 

It has started to happen already. He was right in his crude assessment of you - you do know what you’re doing - but you’ve never been so terrified with a cock in your mouth, never felt like your life depended on your ability to please the man in front of you. Your strokes become sloppy as you let panic edge into the corners of your vision.

“Fuck,” he groans. Your one free hand clenches into a fist as he grabs you at the nape of your neck and thrusts forward, holding you still as he forces his cock back into your throat. “Fuck.” You feel him writhe in your mouth just as his fingers did in your hair, molding himself to the contours of your throat as he fucks your face over and over, only becoming more frantic as you start to struggle against his hand, more frenzied as you gag and drool around him, until finally - finally - you’re tugged forward one last time, your lips pulled taught as hot liquid spurts down your throat. He keeps you there as you continue struggling for breath, sliding his thumb over your bottom lip and smearing your drool across your face. 

When you’re finally allowed to pull back, you wrap your arms around yourself, shrinking inwards as you whisper, “Please. May I go now?”

“Huh?” He crouches down until his face is level with yours, crossing his arms over his knees as he sinks to the ground. You try to keep your eyes on his face - it’s practically glowing, his eyes wild and bright, their contrasting colors even more apparent. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. Just taking a little break.” 

You freeze for a second before scrambling backwards. It’s absolutely stupid, but - he said he wanted you to run. So he won’t get mad at you for trying one last time. And maybe it’ll work this time. Maybe you’ll get out. Maybe he was lying and he’s actually ready to see you go. Maybe seeing you run naked and sobbing onto the street will be enough to satisfy him, and he won’t chase you any farther.

He gives you five paces before pouncing, pinning you to the ground with one hand wrapped tight around your throat, turning you over so he can see the fear written on your face. “Guess what?” He whispers it into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck, nearly hard enough to split your skin open. You feel something hard pressing into your stomach, swelling as you cry out in pain. “Break is over.” He drags his tongue over cheek and traces it down your jaw before kissing you right where the bite mark still glows red on your skin. Using both hands to pin your wrists down at your sides, he drags his way down your body, running his tongue over your breasts, your navel, around the triangle between your thighs. “I usually don’t care much about what’s fair, but - I really think I should return the favor.” His eyes flit down to your legs, squeezed tightly together. “Try to relax. This is supposed to be fun, right?” He works two fingers between thighs and prys them open. 

You hold back a whimper as he dives into the space between, dragging the flat of his tongue voraciously over your hot cunt. He’s sloppy, ignoring the way your eyes are glued to his face as he tests and probes your cunt, teasing the opening and forcing his tongue inside, giving no pause before swallowing the sheen left behind. You have to squeeze your eyes shut. You have to tell yourself not to give in to the heat sweeping through your core, not to accept even a tiny bit of pleasure from the man defiling you, but - it’s so, so difficult. So strange to feel someone so obviously selfish pleasing you, even if it’s by accident, even if it’s just for his own enjoyment - you can’t stop yourself from pushing your hips shamelessly against his mouth. Can’t stop yourself from moaning as his fingers find your clit. 

He pulls away, laughing at the whine that escapes from your mouth. “Tastes better than I thought,” he says. “But you  - you’re reacting just like I thought. It’s like your mind’s melting away.” He pinches your clit between two fingers, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. “You’re being controlled by this now.”

You just manage to shake your head. “No - no. I’m still - I don’t -”

He pounces on top of you again, thrusting his fingers into your open mouth. “Shhh. You don’t have to talk. That’s not what you’re here for.” He grinds against you, his cock already pushing at the entrance to your cunt as he fucks your mouth with his fingers, nearly making you gag as he pushes relentlessly into your throat. “You’re here to help me out, right? And you’ve been doing so good. So good for me.” You don’t want your stomach to flutter at the praise. Not here, not from him. You try your best to ignore it, tell yourself to close your eyes as he all but fucks your thighs. 

When you try to screw them shut, though, he puts his pinky right on your eyelid and drags up, forcing it to flutter open again. “Ah-ah,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see how this makes you feel.” He presses his hips hard against yours, guiding himself nearly all the way inside you in a single motion. “Fuck.” His eyes nearly close as he savors the feeling of you tightening around him, but he keeps them open just wide enough to see your lips open wide, forming an O around the fingers still scraping against your tongue. “I’m keeping you here forever. Understand?” The drool from his fingers smudges across your cheek as he grabs the sides of your face, squeezing as he shoves farther inside you, over and over again, only spurred on by the sloppy noises he hears every time the two of you connect. “Gonna be - gonna be my fucking toy forever. I’ll keep you on a fucking leash if I have to.” 

All you can do is whimper and blink back your tears. He brushes his tongue across your face, licking them away as they overflow. “You look so scared. So mad.” He’s slowing himself down, now. Making it last. “It’s cute. Stay just like that, okay?” He presses on the corners of your mouth, forcing it deeper into a scowl. “So fucking cute.”

Your eyes match the anger he’s forced onto your mouth. Somehow, this moment feels worse than everything that’s come before. He’s playing with your face now. Trying to make it his, just like your body. And something about that - it breaks your daze. And your arms aren’t pinned anymore. There’s nothing you can do to make him stop, but. You feel the overwhelming urge to do something.

You reach up and slap him. Right across his pretty face, turning it sharply aside just as his cock buries itself all the way inside your cunt, reaching farther than you thought anyone ever could. His eyes widen, and his grip on your face tightens to a vise. You think that just once, you’ve managed to shock him.

Your faint sense of victory fades when you feel his cock pulse unmistakably inside you. 

“Oh -” he sighs blissfully as he releases inside you, and you go limp as he collapses into your shoulder. A moment later, he turns his head and whispers in your ear. “Very interesting.” You can practically feel his grin radiating against your neck. “I’m definitely keeping you, now. So many things to try…” You squirm as he shifts on top of you, his face hovering right over your own. “And you’re gonna help me with every single one.”

[separatist-apologist]

Honestly whatever works best for you ^^ I just like seeing jealous Lucien

This ask was for jealous Lucien. It's sort of a remix of Elain riling Lucien up, wherein they actually DO stuff. it is NSFW, 18+, and "edited".

Also I like my little Feyre/Lucien moment. I HC them as pranksters

--

--

Lucien was later than he’d meant to be, walking into Solstice. He was still reeling from his day with Elain, stunned that Nuan had been right, and her plan had worked.

She wants you, Nuan had murmured halfway through the larger meeting Lucien had glanced over at Elain, carefully arranging stems across the hall on a glass table.

He’d rolled his eyes, but Nuan insisted.

Let me help you make her jealous.

He’d kissed her hand and now he wanted to kiss every other part of her. He’d settle for polite conversation and maybe a little hand holding. He was nervous, like a young male about to touch his first female. Elain had never given him the time of day before and Lucien wanted to get things right.

He ran his hands down his sage green jacket for the millionth time, his boots echoing off the marble in Feyre’s home. He followed the sound of chatter to a drawing room and paused in the doorway. His eyes immediately found Elain standing beside Azriel, gazing up at him with sweet, doe eyes…her hand on his forearm.

He was so fucking tired of seeing the pair of them. Jealousy burned in his gut and he almost turned around and left. Feyre caught him, perhaps reading his thoughts, and looped her arm through his.

“Will you help me with something?” She asked conspiratorially, walking him out of the cozy drawing room.

“How could I say no?” He replied easily, his mind still back with Elain and Azriel.

“I want to put snow in Rhys’ side of the bed,” she confessed, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “He’s been shoving it down the back of my clothes for days now and I haven’t been able to repay him.”

“Because he’s so tall, or you love him so much?” Lucien asked dryly

“Don’t be gross, of course it’s because he’s tall,” Feyre shot back quickly. “I tried his pants but he’s just a little too fast—”

“That’s quite enough. Of course I’ll help you prank your mate. Let’s go to the kitchen for some bowls, though.”

“Smart, I didn’t think of that,” Feyre said with a happy smile.

For the next hour, he and Feyre giggled quietly as they scooped up frozen snow in metal bowls and snuck through the River House. They put the snow on Feyre’s side of the bed, creating a snow person shaped like her body they hoped a very naked Rhys would attempt to cuddle up next to. Lucien didn’t want to think about what Feyre and her mate did in their alone time but he had to admit, it was fun conspiring with Feyre again.

By the time she walked him back to the drawing room, they were pink cheeked from the cold and still quietly chuckling to themselves. Rhys was instantly curious, not that it mattered. Lucien was almost relieved to see Elain had left though Azriel remained behind, standing with Cassian and Mor discussing who knew what. Lucien went to a little loveseat, still amused when he froze.

Elain was there, looking up at him with those same wide eyes. Ah, fuck, he thought, about to turn and find another place to warm up. She scooted, patting the cushion beside her and Lucien couldn’t resist.

She was so gorgeous, her hair curled gently down her back and spilling over her shoulders in a long-sleeved, off shoulder gown of lilac. He wanted to feel hopeful, but her eyes slid past him towards Azriel and Lucien wasn’t stupid. He recognized when he was being used as bait. He nearly rose, nearly left entirely but she set her small hand on his knee and Lucien quickly changed tracks.

She might want to make another male jealous but there was something between them. He could smell her anticipation. He didn’t know what had transpired between the pair of them, if anything had, for that matter given how determined Azriel seemed to be at not looking at her. It didn’t matter. If she wanted to play games, Lucien was leave knowing she was utterly covered in his scent. There would be no mistaking who she belonged with…who she was mated to.

“Are you having a good evening?” He asked, unable to take his eyes off her hand sliding slowly up his thigh. He was so, so hard just from one little touch.

“I am,” she agreed, looking up at him again. Good. He wanted her to keep her eyes on him. “And you, Lord?”

“It’s certainly looking up,” he replied truthfully. Feyre glanced at Lucien and he heard her in his mind.

You two look cozy. Want us to leave for a bit?

He hated when she did that, when she spoke to him mind to mind, worried that she knew every little thing he’d ever thought. This time, though, he was a little grateful for it.

If no one minds.

He heard Feyre chuckle in his head. I promise you, no one minds. I don’t think she’d notice if we left at all…

Feyre withdrew and Lucien looked fully back at Elain, her eyes wholly focused on his face, pink lips parted, her hand so close to his aching cock he felt half insane. He reached for her neck, his hands twining in her hair as he tilted her head towards him. Lucien glanced up when Elain’s eyes fluttered shut, watching as Feyre silently ushered people from the room. His lips curved into a smile and he nodded his thanks to Feyre once before she left, too, closing the door quietly behind her.

Elain sucked in a soft breath, angling her head. He couldn’t resist. He didn’t care if she had started all this to make Azriel jealous. She’d failed on that account though she’d very much succeeded in making Lucien jealous. He ghosted his lips over her own, delighted when she gasped a little, her fingernails digging into his thighs.

“It looks like everyone left us,” he told her, his mouth pressed against her jaw. Her eyes flew open and Lucien, still holding her head, let her turn just long enough to look at the now empty room. The only sound besides their breathing was the cheerful crackling of the fire and the soft hum of the wind tapping on the glass.

“I didn’t notice,” she admitted, proving her younger sister right. Lucien’s heart picked up at the admission, hope re-blooming in his chest. He smiled at her, rubbing his nose against her own. She reached up, cupping his cheek and Lucien was half-lost. He brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her for the first time. It was nothing like he’d imagined, and he had spent years wondering what she might feel like, how she’d taste.

She was better in real life he thought with a soft sigh. Like lavender and honey and warm, sunlit air all combined and mixed with something personal, something uniquely Elain that was sweet and inviting. She opened her mouth for him, surprising him again when her tongue very hesitantly licked against his own.

She moaned and Lucien was fully gone, utterly done. He was going to have her on this too small couch. He couldn’t walk, not with the erection he was currently sporting and especially not with the way her arousal was slowly curling through the air around them. He couldn’t think straight anymore, kissing her with more intensity than he might have. He leaned her back, one hand on the column of her pretty throat as he shoved his knee between her legs, parting them both.

“What do you want, Elain?” He asked before licking up the smooth, soft skin of her throat, his other hand holding her by the hip. Her eyes flashed open, dark with desire.

“You,” she breathed, dragging him back down to kiss her again. Did she knew the affect she had on him, he wondered idly a moment before her hips rubbed against his thigh? She moaned softly against his lips, her eyes closed again.

Would Feyre forgive him for fucking her sister in the drawing room? He hoped so, he thought to himself, devouring her mouth with a hunger that surprised even him. His fantasies could not compete with the real thing.

He ran a hand over her breast, hidden beneath glittery fabric. Elain arched into his hand, moaning softly again. He’d kill to hear her make that notice again, he thought desperately. More, more, more, the bond between them crooned, demanding satisfaction. Elain, too, seemed to be demanding it, given how her hips rolled against his thigh. There was not enough space to spread her out the way he wanted to. They’d have to move.

Lucien withdrew, pleased at the disappointed mewl that escaped her throat.

“Not for long, sweet dove,” he promised, pulling her easily into his arms. Her dress covered his tented trousers and her weight helped ground him back to reality, to slow him down just a bit. Her mouth on his neck, nipping the skin, didn’t make walking any easier, and leaving the drawing room for the bedroom Feyre had offered was difficult, given how badly instinct made him want to slam her against a wall and bury himself within her.

They passed her family, not that she noticed. Feyre pressed a hand over her mouth and Rhys actually winked, which made Lucien almost laugh. The jealous monster that still roared in his chest settled when Azriel, too, glanced their way, catching sight of Elain utterly lost, one hand in his hair, her mouth still licking his skin. What had he been so worried about, he wondered, half jogging up the steps that led to the hall he slept in?

He placed on her his bed with as much reverence as he felt in that moment and Elain sat up quickly, eyes wide. He froze, expecting her to tell him no, that they’d taken this too far and she wanted to leave.

Her fingers found the buttons of his jacket and with a nimble quickness, managed to undo them before he could inhale and exhale. She shoved them down his arms and without any hesitation, pulled his shirt out of his pants and attempted to yank it over his head. Lucien helped, utterly stunned with the image of his mate undressing him with hurried determination. He didn’t stop her when her fingers, trembling now, reached for the laces of his pants though he did gently pull them away when, having gotten them undone, she attempted to yank them off his hips. She was still fully clothed and the part of him that was still a gentleman knew he might be tempted to just flip her skirts up and have her without any other care of consideration.

He heard her swallow when, having divested himself of his boots, he climbed up the bed. He reached behind her for the little pearl buttons on her dress and undid them much slower than she had, reveling in each new inch of skin he revealed. Lucien dragged his hands down her shoulders when he finished, taking the dress with him until she her underthings were exposed, her dress pooled at her waist. He watched as she shimmied out of it, tossing it to his floor. It took her merely a moment to remove her under things as well, leaving her utterly exposed.

“Elain,” he breathed, gently guiding her back to the bed, unable to take his eyes off the peaks and curves of her beautiful, soft body. He almost asked if she’d done this before but the memory of snide, stupid Graysen strutting about flashed through his memory and he knew he might become overwhelmingly possessive if she admitted he’d ever touched her.

Some questions were better left unknown. He simply did not care how many lovers she had or if she’d had none at all. He’d pretend she hadn’t and let her set the pace.

“Now will you remove your pants?” She asked him, her voice catching in her throat. They were hanging embarrassingly low on his hips as it was, hardly keeping him modest and the fabric was beginning to chafe the crown of his cock. Lucien sighed, disappointed to climb off her and slid them down his body, well aware of how her eyes zoomed to the appendage bobbing between his legs. He wished he knew what she thought in that moment, if she found him lacking or not.

She gestured for him to come back, and Lucien obliged, hardly able to keep himself away. This was happening, he thought dazedly, his mouth covering her own again. Elain’s hands slipped up his chest and over his shoulders, her nails dragging down his back. He groaned even as he palmed at her now naked breast, desperate to feel her naked body arch against his own.

She gasped when he rolled her nipple between his fingers, her hips lifting off the bed. He was slowly being driven mad by every little noise that left her lips.

Taste, taste, taste his instincts chanted. She didn’t pull away when his head dipped to her chest so he could take that same delicate, pebbled nipple and roll it along his tongue. She squirmed, her nails digging into his flesh in the most deliciously painful way. More of that, his thoughts begged. The idea that his mate might instinctively know what he liked and how he wanted to be fucked was exciting to him.

She writhed against him when he took the other breast into his mouth, lavishing attention even as she ground against the bare thigh he had pressed against the heat of her cunt. His eyes rolled into the back of his head at the slickness she left on his skin, growling softly in appreciation.

“Please,” she begged, lifting her hips again and fuck did he want to take her up on the offer. His hand was gliding down her body and when he dipped one finger into the source of her wet he half died right then and there. She clenched hard around him, the sensation shooting straight into his cock.

“Taste you,” he said desperately, trying to position himself between her hips but Elain screamed with frustration and yanked him by his hair, pulling him back up.

“Later,” she bossed, her kiss a demand. He wanted to taste her so bad it was almost painful.

“Please,” it was his turn to beg.

“Fuck me, Lucien,” she ordered and Lucien’s eyes rolled straight into his skull. Later implied they would do this again, slower, perhaps all night even. He notched himself against her slick opening, groaning at the silky, hot feel of her.

It had been his intention to go slow. He slid in an inch and Elain offered him another soft scream, stopping him dead. She hooked her legs around his waist, dug her heels into his ass, and pushed, slamming him to the hilt within her.

Holy fuck, he thought, dazed. His Lady was practically wanton, he thought with pleasure, watching as her hips arched to meet his next thrust, her eyes half-wild with lust.

“Been thinking of me, have you?” He grunted out, his thrusts almost punishing in their intensity.

“Mm hmm,” she wined, her breath coming in short, shallow pants.

“Tell me,” he demanded, trying to fight back the urge to spill himself inside her like an untested youth. His hand slid between them, his thumb rubbing careful, precise circles over her clit.

“At night,” she gasped. “In bed.”

“Touching yourself?” He asked, needing to know.

“Mm hmm,” she keened, her voice rising an octave. He sped up, both his hips and his hand, dragging her to the edge.

“What do you want?” He demanded again.

“You,” she begged. “Lucien, you, you—” Her words were lost to a scream, so loud he was sure the whole house heard. Lucien snarled with pleasure, still rubbing as he fucked her, driving himself deeper still, desperate to be as close as he could.

“Lucien,” she half sobbed, her body trembling around him, her nails digging so hard into his skin he could scent blood in the air.

“Again,” he told her, his voice rich with authority. She tossed her head side to side. When she came again, the walls of her cunt slick with fluid as the fluttered tightly around him, Lucien couldn’t hold back any longer. His own pleasure burned beneath his skin, coiled tightly in his gut desperate for release. Every part of him tingled wildly. He thrust hard, deep, and pumped his release into her, snarling loudly with satisfaction. This was home, his mind screamed. She was home.

When his body relaxed, Lucien carefully lowered his body to hers. She pressed a lazy kiss to his mouth.

“Again,” he murmured against her lips. She giggled in response.

“Let me breathe, first,” she asked, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Lucien couldn’t bring himself to pull out of her, to leave her.

So he stayed, nuzzling his head into her shoulder while Elain worked to catch her breath. Minutes passed, timed only by the synced beats of their heart.

“Okay,” she whispered after who knew how long. “Again.”

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

MY DEAR WIFE. I DESIRE A SEQUEL TO THE JIMMY EMPIRE FIC. I MADE THIS TUMBLR ACCOUNT TO MAKE MY DEMANDS. NOW GO BE FREE. WRITE YOU FANTASTIC FANFIC WRITER YOU. -BEST SPOUSE, PURP <3

this was a popular request LMAO :D

here’s the first part

…

The ringing of her communicator wakes Lizzie up late in the night. Blinking herself awake, she quickly answers it, speaking quietly so as to not awaken her sleeping fiance next to her. “Hello?”

“Lizzie, it’s Pixl,” comes the familiar British voice. “I’m so sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Lizzie says. “Is something wrong?”

“Something’s happened with Jimmy.”

Lizzie’s heart skips a beat. “Is he okay?”

“I’ll explain everything later but I could really use your help right now. Are you able to come to the Cod Empire?”

Momentarily forgetting that Pixl can’t see her, Lizzie nods. “Of course, I’ll come over right away.”

“Thanks so much, Lizzie,” says Pixl gratefully. “See you soon.”

“See you.”

Lizzie puts down her communicator and gets out of bed. Just as she’s finished changing, her fiance stirs in his bed and murmurs, “What’s going on? Who was that?”

“Pixl,” replies Lizzie softly, secretly glad he’s awake; she wouldn’t have woken him first. “Something’s happened to Jimmy, and Pixl needs me. You okay to come over to the Cod Empire with me?”

Joel sits up in his bed, immediately more awake. “Of course, of course. Let me get dressed.”

The two fly straight over to the Cod Empire and land outside Jimmy’s house. Pixl answers the door on the first knock. “Queen Lizzie, thank you for coming,” he says gratefully. “And King Joel.”

He leads them inside. Lizzie and Joel both gasp simultaneously as they spot Jimmy lying on the bed.

Joel freezes but Lizzie dashes to his side and grasps his hand, staring down in horror at the bruises covering Jimmy’s face. “Oh my goodness! What happened to him?! Is he okay?!”

Pixl joins her on Jimmy’s other side. “He’s recovering,” he responds grimly. “You know the demon Xornoth that’s shown their face around the server lately?”

“Heard of them.”

“fWhip and Sausage seem to be around the epicentre of the whole thing. They captured Jimmy, kept him in a cell for a whole day, beat him several times, then tried to sacrifice him to Xornoth. Scott and I managed to save him but he almost died from his injuries before Scott was able to heal him somewhat with magic.”

Lizzie gazes down at Jimmy with a worried expression, gently touching his face. He stirs slightly under her touch.

After a moment, she speaks again, her tone low and dangerous. “fWhip and Sausage, you said?”

Pixl nods. “Yeah. Scott and I chased them off but I’m a little worried about them returning to finish the job. That’s why I asked you over; I could do with some help protecting him. If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Lizzie retracts her hand and presses her fist into her palm. “Hell, if either of them show their faces around here, I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands.”

Now Joel moves closer to the bed, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Poor Jimmy… I can’t imagine how terrified he must’ve been.”

As Pixl opens his mouth to respond, another knock at the door sounds. The three frown at each other, trying to work out who could possibly be at the door.

After a moment, Pixl heads back over to the door and answers it. His gaze darkens when he sees who’s standing there. “You’re not welcome here.”

Lizzie stiffens as she hears MythicalSausage’s voice: “I just wanted to ask how Jimmy is. And to… apologise.”

“Apologise?!” Lizzie bursts out.

Joel draws Pixl out of the way as Lizzie storms to the door and shoves Sausage backwards. “You TORTURED my friend and you think you can just walk over here and APOLOGISE?!”

Sausage scrambles back as a furious Lizzie bears down on him. “I had nothing to do with hurting him! That was all fWhip!”

“YOU THINK THAT MAKES IT BETTER?!” Lizzie bellows.

She flings out her arms and manipulates the ocean water into grabbing hold of Sausage and bringing him closer to her. “ACK!” Sausage chokes, struggling uselessly. “LIZZIE!”

“I’m going to kill you, Sausage,” growls Lizzie. “Would you rather be flung high into the air and fall to your death or drowned in salty ocean water?”

“N-Neither!”

A dark smile appears on Lizzie’s face. “Too bad. I’ve decided I’m gonna drown you.”

She lifts the water higher. His scream is abruptly cut off as the water envelopes his head, stopping him from breathing. She watches with satisfaction as his air slowly runs out.

But then Pixl’s voice comes from behind her: “Lizzie, he’s calling for you. He needs you.”

Lizzie pauses, weighing up her options. Eventually, she releases Sausage onto the dock, taking grim pleasure in the way he splutters and coughs up water. “You’re lucky this time, Sausage,” she says. She kneels down beside him and pushes her face close to Sausage’s with a menacing glare. “But if you ever, and I mean EVER, come near Jimmy again, you’re gonna wish you were never born. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Y-Yes!” gasps Sausage.

Lizzie steps back and lets Sausage flee, before rushing back inside and back to Jimmy’s side. Her ally is stirring, his eyelids fluttering. “L-Lizz...ie…”

“I’m here,” whispers Lizzie softly, holding his hand against her cheek to reassure him of her presence. “I’m here, Jimmy. Are you okay?”

Jimmy coughs weakly. “M-My wrists hurt.”

Frowning, Lizzie pushes down Jimmy’s sleeve, revealing the thick red marks. “Wh-What is this?!” she gasps. “Pixl?”

“It’s…” Pixl hesitates, knowing what his next words will likely cause. “They’re burn marks. He had his hands tied behind his back for most of the day in that cell.”

Joel glances sharply at his fiancee. “Uh oh.”

Thunder sounds overhead as dark clouds rapidly slide across the sky. Lizzie’s expression remains steady, but lightning flashes in her eyes. “I’ll be right back, Jimmy,” she says, her voice as steady as her expression. But it’s just an act for Jimmy’s benefit and both Pixl and Joel know it.

Neither Pixl nor Joel stop her as she storms out of the hut and takes off flying towards the Grimlands. She lands atop the outer wall, rain starting to fall from the sky.

“FWHIP!” she bellows, her voice rolling through the clouds and echoing across the land.

Seconds later, the count himself appears atop his tower, within audible distance despite the increasingly loud thunder overhead. “Queen Lizzie!” He spreads his arms wide. “How may I help you?”

A bolt of lightning strikes the very top of fWhip’s tower.

“Aha, what have I done to invoke the wrath of the Ocean Queen?” fWhip laughs.

Instead of replying verbally, Lizzie lifts her arms and summons a giant wave of water from the river, sending it crashing down like a tsunami over the Grimlands.

“NO!” fWhip yells. “My villagers! You’re gonna drown my villagers!”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU TORTURED JIMMY AND TRIED TO MURDER HIM!” roars Lizzie.

fWhip stares at her for a moment as he finally remembers that Lizzie is one of Jimmy’s closest allies. “...oh…”

Shaking himself into action, fWhip dives down into his flooded village. Lizzie watches him, taking grim satisfaction in watching him flounder around in desperation. She doesn’t even realise how close he is to death until-

fWhip drowned

Lizzie quickly dissipates the flood and jumps down to look for fWhip’s items. As she’s starting to pick them up, fWhip reappears, so she retreats back to a safe distance.

“I’ll get my revenge for this, Ocean Queen,” growls fWhip. “I will not take the attempted murder of my villagers lying down.”

“I don’t give a crap,” Lizzie snaps back. “Don’t you dare think about going near Jimmy ever again, because if you do, I can promise you I will wipe your goddamn empire off the face of the world and I will NOT regret doing it.”

fWhip narrows his eyes. “You’re messing with the wrong empire. I too have the power to wipe an empire out of existence.”

“I live in the ocean. The bulk of my empire is underwater now. Your TNT will make a scratch at most.”

fWhip’s mouth opens, then closes again. After a moment, he looks away. “Fine.”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re backing down that easily?”

“I’m being smart. You’ve no idea what’s coming, Lizzie. I do. I need to prepare. I can’t afford to be dragged into another war right now.”

As fWhip turns, he finds Lizzie extremely close to him. She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him close so that their faces are inches apart. “Then don’t start one,” she snarls. “Stay away from my allies.”

She shoves fWhip away and takes off again, flying back to the swamp. Part of her feels bad at the attack on fWhip’s innocent villagers but she pushes it aside. fWhip tortured Jimmy and was perfectly willing to slaughter him when he was tied up and defenceless.

Lizzie has no sympathy or mercy for a person like that.

When she gets back, Joel meets her at the door. “Lizzie, you’re back!” he gasps. “I saw the death message in chat.”

“Yes. fWhip needed to be told that I won’t tolerate him hurting my Jimmy.” Her gaze flickers from Joel to Pixl and back again. “Or any of you.”

Joel gazes at her with almost visible hearts in his eyes. “I love you so much, Lizzie.”

Lizzie can’t help a chuckle. “I love you too.”

“Guys, guys, come quick!” Pixl calls suddenly. “Guys!”

The two quickly rush to Jimmy’s beside but stop dead simultaneously when they see what Pixl is so panicked about.

A mark has appeared on Jimmy’s neck. It looks like some kind of rune, but what’s worrying about it is the fact that it’s glowing red.

“What is this?” Lizzie gasps. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know! It just appeared!”

After a few seconds, the glowing dies down, leaving only the clear black mark.

“This has got to be something to do with the demon,” says Pixl shakily. “I don’t know what or how or why, but somehow, fWhip and Sausage’s attempted sacrifice of Jimmy must’ve caused this.”

“But what can we do about it?” Joel asks. “What can we do to help?”

Pixl has no answer to this.

Nobody does.

[newtonsheffield]

Spicy Sunday 🌶🌶 Molly cheap thrills was such a surprise - loved it! The flirting 😍 Now we need to fill in the blanks of what happened when Kate brought him home

Absolutely LOVED Cheap Thrills!!!!! Your writing is constantly amazing, I get so excited every time you post! Would it be too much to request more from this universe, maybe some spice🌶? Wishing you a great upcoming week, love from Canada🇨🇦

so…. cheap thrills spicy sunday?

also klepto drunk molly is very unexpected yet welcome

So I hadn't planned to write this AU really. But I told @readandbemerry but my drunk antics and Cheap Thrills was born! A pair of glasses isn't even my weirdest trophy. I once came back from the bathroom wearing a crown that to this day neither my friends or myself can explain. I have no memory of it. It looks like the kind of thing Julius Caesar would wear.

Okay! Let's do some Spice in this Universe, but I also feel like... you already know how it goes. It was in Kate's drink order 😏😏😏😏😏

Anthony really wasn't sure how he ended up in the back of a taxi with Kate Sharma's lips nipping at his neck, her hand settled on his thigh. He hadn't been able to help himself last night, Someone had stumbled, on their way into the bar, and instinctively his hands had reached out to steady them and suddenly he'd been staring down at most probably the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, her eyes wide with surprise, her smile apologetic as she mumbled Sorry.

"No worries, Hey-" But she was gone. And Anthony spent the next few hours staring at her laughing across the bar. He'd taken his glasses off to clean them, turned around and suddenly there was a much smaller woman staring up at him.

"Are you a good guy?"

Anthony had been startled but stuttered to answer "Yes. Yeah. Umm I think so. Maybe. No, Yes, I am."

She nodded. "And you're how old?"

"Twen-Twenty-nine?"

"And have you ever killed anybody?"

Benedict beside him had laughed bemusedly, "No!"

"And you have a stable job? You're not like... I don't know making t-shirts from the boot of your car or working on your garage band?"

"I'm a barrister?" He really had no idea what was happening but something was compelling him to answer.

"And your name is?"

"Anthony?"

The woman stared at him scrutinisingly for a moment before saying. "Give me your arm." His arm shot out of its own accord, "Well, Anthony," She was writing something on his arm in felt tip, "You should call Kate. Because you've been eye fucking her all night and she stole your glasses 5 minutes ago."

And then she was gone as well, and Anthony had just stared like a stunned mullet as she followed Kate from the bar, his hand already fumbling for his phone.

"You have to call that Girl." Benedict had said a little incredulously but Anthony was already dialling, his heart racing, it just seemed too good to be- Hi this is Kate Sharma, I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you. Maybe not too good to be true.

And then He'd seen her at the bar again, her black dress hugging her body, his glasses perched on top of her head like a trophy, even more beautiful than he'd remembered and it had taken everything in him not to march up to her and claim her lips right there. He wasn't really sure what to expect from a woman who engaged in petty theft when drunk and honestly, she seemed mortally embarrassed by it. But other than that, she was razor sharp. Her witty remarks as sharp as her cheekbones, standing toe to toe with him, drawing him closer with each new fact about herself, and before the bartender had even taken his money, Anthony had known he was going to ask her to dinner, and probably out again after that.

He really hadn't expected her to invite him home, hadn't been looking for it, but that wasn't going to stop him from standing and fumbling over himself as they left the restaurant. As he fumbled around on his phone ordering a taxi he could feel her eyes on him, staring curiously. He turned to face her as he hung up, nerves building in his stomach. Their eyes locked together, and jesus she was beautiful, maybe too beautiful in the bright city lights, tension building between them.

"Can I kiss you?" It swept from his chest a little unbidden.

She'd stepped closer to him, her hand on his chest, burning there. And then he dipped his head and their lips met, and it had never felt like this before. Her lips were moving against his, meeting them just like her banter had, perfectly in sync after just seconds, his hands moving to grip her waist, tugging her tight against him, her hands threading through his hair as the kiss deepened, his leg slipping between hers and-

"Oi!" A car horn sounded startling them apart. "If you get in mate, you might avoid getting arrested." The taxi driver was rolling his eyes, Kate ducking her head a little embarrassedly as Anthony pulled her inside, murmuring her address before her teeth started nipping at his neck, heat building between them.

By the time they reached her flat it had reached a slightly desperate stage, hands fumbling down the corridor, his chest pressing against her back as she fumbled with her keys, a low whine escaping her as he ducked his lips to her collarbone, sucking lightly against it, his teeth following, falling through the door as it swung open. Kate's hands were dragging him down a small corridor, her eyes locked on his.

"I don't um... do this that often, I'm sorry if this is... weird?" She started a little awkwardly, breaking the bubble forming around them, Anthony ducked his head cutting her off with another kiss.

"I have to say, this is definitely the weirdest way anyone's ever flirted with me, and I fucking loved it." Her eyes widened, staring back at him, tension thick in the air. And then she moved, her hands releasing his forearms, sliding to her own back, a zipper drawn down and Anthony felt his mouth drop open. staring. Frozen.

"Are you going to-?" Her fingers playing with the hem of his sweater, her voice soft pulling him from his reverie.

"Oh my god, Yes. Sorry, You're just really pretty and I got a little distracted." Anthony couldn't keep the grin off his face as he tugged his sweater over his head, obscuring her eye roll, tugging his jeans off seconds later.

She was staring at him now, her eyes glazing a little.

"So maybe your mum and I do share the same opinion." her hands were tight on his bicep tugging him back to her.

"I knew it."

And then his lips were on hers again, her exposed skin, setting his on fire as their teeth clashed, tongues tangling, her hips moving against his leg between hers.

"What do you want, Kate?"

She looked a little wild as she stared back at him, her voice rough, her lips tugging upwards in a catlike smile, "Mine's a slow screw against the wall."

A whine escaped his chest, his hands tugging on her legs, lifting them to wrap around her turning them, until she's pressed firmly against the wall, trapped against him. Her smile nearly too bright. His eyes questioning, her legs tightening around him. A gasp given together as their hips started moving together, push and pull, his forehead falling against hers, his spine shivering with the little noises she made as he moved against her, her hands tight in his hair. His glasses still perched on her head, forcing a slightly possessive growl from his chest. Heat building in his stomach slowly, simmering, a steady pace, the noice echoing through the room like his heartbeat Oh My god, Anthony, Anthony, Fuck Fuck, Anthony. Her eyes blown even wider as she shuddered against him, falling apart all around him But Anthony held her together, his arms tight around her as he pulled her from the wall, stumbling a little in the few steps, her breathing ragged in his ear as he laid back against the mattress, forcing him to straddle her.

Kate stared down at him, clearly a little surprised, his own voice rough,

"I like to see a woman on top." a small shrug escaping him.

A slightly breathless laugh bursting from her, as she started to rock against him. "We thank you for your feminist efforts."

Whatever witty response he was going to make died on his lips as she started moving in earnest, her fingernails digging into his chest, his hands tightening on her hips encouraging her against him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, choked words falling from his lips. Holy Fuck, So beautiful, you're so incredible, Needy, greedy gasps, Again, Kate. Kate Kate Kate, Again Please. A soft cry breaking free from her chest, and he fell over the edge as well.

Kate collapsed again him, reaching up and plucking his glasses from the top of her head, her shoulders still heaving as she fought for breath, sliding his glasses back on his face. Her smile a little brilliant.

"I knew you'd look better with them on."

A breathless laugh from his own lips. "Next time you fuck me, I'll wear them for you, Catwoman."

This got way too long, I'm sorry

[pars-ley]

hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex 

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?" 

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab." 

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics. 

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is. 

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?” 

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm. 

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands. 

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented." 

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this? 

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there. 

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds. 

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave. 

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking. 

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside. 

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze. 

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?" 

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?" 

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building. 

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No." 

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

 "Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline. 

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before. 

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is. 

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie." 

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?" 

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after. 

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks. 

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade. 

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice. 

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

[xiaojusaur]

Let’s Get Wet

Johnny x Reader

1769 words

Smut

TW: fiction, mentions of masturbation, fingering, shower sex, unprotected sex

Neo Smut Collective drabble Wet & Wild

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Your brother’s best friend was hot and it couldn’t be denied. Every time he stayed in your house your knees trembled from the thought of seeing him shirtless. But of course, your brother Jaehyun wouldn’t allow it, so he avoided any possible encounter between you two, because he knew you too well and noticed the way you looked at Johnny.

Many nights, in the darkness of your room, you would moan his name while playing with yourself, imagining it was him.

He was home tonight, your brother along some friends had a camping at the beach the next day and since they were leaving early, they were all staying together.

You went to take a shower so you could go to sleep refreshed. You opened the bathroom door and gasped when meeting with an almost-naked Johnny, covering his bottom part with a towel. “OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY!” You screamed in horror, quickly covering your eyes with one arm and closing the door with the other.

“It’s okay, I’m almost finished,” he said with his mellow voice and you saw him open the door again. His hair was shiny from the water and the droplets ran down his toned body. It was everything you imagined in your wildest dreams.

You were panicking, looking everywhere but to him. If your brother caught you, he would either kill you or Johnny.

Johnny was styling his hair in the foggy mirror, running his fingers through his dark, silky mane.

Without noticing, you were staring at him to which he smirked through the mirror. “Like what you see?” He chuckled.

“Very, very much!” You wanted to scream, but you just stuttered, “N-not bad.”

“Please, Y/N, I know how you feel about me. Do you think I don’t notice how you look at me?” He said in a racy voice.

You were shocked to hear those words, were you that obvious?

Johnny extended his arm and pulled you inside the bathroom with him, pushing you against the door, locking it before anyone noticed. He caged you against his body, looking at you with fire in his eyes.

His lips were so inviting, his wet body so tantalizing.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he whispered looking at you fiercely, “do you like me?”

“I- Johnny... Jaehyun wouldn’t allow it...” you explained just to not give him an answer.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said groggily, grabbing your wrist, somehow intimidating you.

“I like you, yeah. A lot,” you confessed.

“I know you do. Do you think I haven’t heard you moaning my name in the middle of the night?” He was making you flustered and was enjoying it.

You tried to talk, to make an excuse, but nothing came out, so you just lowered your gaze.

“Look at me, baby girl,” he took you by the chin to make you look into his eyes. “You’re so naughty. Touching yourself while thinking about your brother’s best friend. What would he think if he found out? Hmm?” He teased you.

“He would be angry, with you and with me both,” you said daring.

“What do you imagined? Tell me what do you think about in the darkness of your room,” he started getting close to your lips. Even though he was wet from the shower, you could feel the heat of his body.

Even though it seemed surreal, two could play this game. “I imagine its your fingers touching me, reaching deep inside. Your body on mine, your lips kissing my neck, while you fill me whole with your cock.”

“Fuck...” he said under his breath. You could feel his hardened member poking your thigh, which made you bite your bottom lip.

“Are you okay with me making it a reality?” He asked for your consent before making any move. So sexy!

“Yeah, of course!” You said desperately.

His expression changed to one full of lust, devouring you with his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please...” you whispered and Johnny didn’t waste any second in crashing his lips with yours. They felt like you imagined, so meaty, so soft. His hand ran down your torso, skillfully pulling the elastic of your pijama pants, arriving to your heat easily.

“Oh? No panties? Such a naughty girl,” he said with a croaky voice.

“I was going to shower, plus, I was about to slee- Oh God!” He interrupted sliding a finger between your folds.

“Shhh... you don’t want Jaehyun to find us, right?” While drawing circles on your clit, he started kissing you again to drown your moans. “Fuck, you’re so wet...”

“Mmm! I wanted you so much, Johnny.”

“Shit... get undressed, baby. Let’s get into the shower,” he commanded and you did as told.

He opened the shower again and then let the towel that was covering his lower part fall, revealing his strong thighs, his big member standing proudly, waiting for you.

“Are you not coming?” He extended his hand, inviting you into the shower with him.

You took his hand, hypnotized by his beauty. He looked like an underwater god.

Under the shower, you two kissed like if it was something natural between you. He ran his hands down your body, kneading every inch of your skin, turning you on more, if that was possible.

Johnny pinned you against the shower wall and guided by lust, his hand reached to your heat. His fine fingers found your hole expertly, making you moan lowly, “Oh~”

He flexed his fingers inside you, back and forth, fast and deep, your eyes crossing from pleasure.

“Fuck, Johnny,” you whimpered in a whisper, trying to keep it low so nobody would notice what was happening. The water running down your body was a plus to the feeling and Johnny looked so sexy huffing to take the drops out of his face. You reached for his member that was begging for attention too, pumping your hand up and down slowly.

“Ah~ Feels nice, baby,” he gave you a naughty smile. “I wonder what that mouth could do,” He was suggesting something.

“You want me to suck you off?” You asked, sounding more like an offer than a question.

“We can do that later, you might hurt yourself here, but I appreciate the offer,” he said and then leaned in for a kiss. “Now, come here. Im gonna fuck you, I’ll make your dreams come true,” he said as he grabbed your leg.

“God, I’m so wet, I can’t wait...” you confessed.

“I love making you this way,” he winked, making you laugh. “You okay with this, right?”

“Please...” you begged desperately.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he groaned.

He placed your leg on his arm, letting it hang. With his other hand, he held his member firmly to look for your entrance. Your breath accelerated, you were getting ready to receive his all. He was teasing you and enjoying your reaction while he was rubbing your clit with his tip. He entered in you slowly, torturing, so deliciously. The stretch was burning, you wanted to scream but you suppressed it squeezing his bicep, holding on tightly to not faint. “Fuuuck~” you whispered in a breathy moan.

“Mmm... baby, you’re so tight,” he pecked your lips and moved down to kiss your neck, letting you adjust to him.

A few seconds later, he started moving back and forth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, while he held you by the waist. The scene belonged to a movie, with you two connecting while the water ran down your bodies. Every time he huffed or moaned, the drops flew to your face. The sounds coming from where you two united were obscene, making you want more from him.

“God! Johnny!” You moaned a little too loud.

“Shhh...”

Johnny then picked you up, holding you midair, without stopping from thrusting you. The movement made him reach deeper inside you, touching that supple place that made your toes curls. You gasped and he chuckled.

He was going faster now, making you bounce on his dick by moving you up and down. The slapping sound invaded the tiny space of the bathroom and now you were just praying that your brother didn’t go out of his room, otherwise he would be able to hear everything.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” you said in a chant of whines.

He grunted loudly, his voice echoing in the room. “Shit! So good, you’re taking me so well!”

“Ah! Yes! Yes! Please!” You hissed.

After a few minutes his arms got tired, so he put you on the floor again and then he turned you around, making you hold yourself from the tile wall. He put his big hand on the small of your back as to make you bend, kneading your skin on the process. Johnny penetrated you again, now holding you by the waist with both hands.

The slapping sound of your bodies clashing increased by the minute of how fast Johnny was going and the water was making it louder. You were feeling your orgasm bubbling from your stomach and you let him know. “Johnny, I’m gonna cum, please!”

“Mmm... good!” He focused his thrusts to reach deeper and consistent to help you reach your high.

You felt it, the explosion of delicious tingles through your body, escaping in a simple sigh from your lips. Johnny held you tightly, helping you to stay on your feet. He kept plunging into you until he felt his high coming too. He pulled out and came on the floor, every proof of what had happened there going down the drain along with the water.

“Babe, we should get out of here. Your fingers should be pruning by now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your torso and kissed your neck.

“Yeah, plus, it will be a little suspicious if you spent so much time in the bathroom,” you added.

“Nah! I actually spend a lot of time in the bathroom. I’m just worried that someone might have heard us...”

“Hopefully not...”

After you dried yourselves and were dressed again, Johnny said, “Maybe we can repeat this someday?”

“Anytime,” you winked and he smirked back at you.

But as soon as Johnny opened the door he found a Jaehyun leaning on the wall, waiting for him to get out. “Enjoyed your shower?” He sounded so pissed, you didn’t even want to look.

Your brother then pushed the door open, revealing you in the bathroom too. You gave him the bread smile, trying to act innocent. “Get out of there, we gonna talk about this, you two.”

[parkerlyn]

(if this is ok to request!) "slowly kissing down the body for sysba/oisein please?

ANON PLZ AKSJDHDKS ❤️❤️❤️ Giving us an excuse to extend the birthday party 🎉 Happy twiniversary for Attollo and The Nameless mwah❤️

(crossover and collaboration with @attollogame as a follow up to the recent makeup art. 18+ MINORS DNI PLEASE, will reblog their Sysba POV so give it a sec if you're just seeing this without the Attollo reblog 👀)

Blood red color smooths like velvet over their parted lips, a gentler caress compared to the harsh, cold fingers holding their chin in place. They can't help smirking at being pampered and painted, given who stands before them - the same person (being? God?) digging their nail in harder at the movement.

"Stop squirming," comes a frustrated tone, followed by a sharp tsk and a sneer below black void-like eyes.

Oisein huffs dramatically through a grin, only daring to speak now that the lipstick is a few inches away and there's no risk of destroying Sysba's masterpiece."Only if you promise to ruin it later."

Another tight squeeze as the sheevra's chin is lifted, a thumb roughly running over their unmarked bottom lip. Face splitting with a hungry smile, Sysba moves themself close enough to share, or possibly steal, a breath between them.

"Maybe if you behave," they whisper - command - back, letting the word linger in the space like a baited hook that draws Oisein forward. “And only after I get to show you off.”

A pleased hum is the only response, just audible over the low bass of La Rumeur. It’s a song and dance that’s practically become routine. Familiar, even. A word Oisein doesn’t usually value - but in this case they can make an exception.

An hour (or more) of being dressed up before spending part of the evening being paraded around, lounging near Sysba as they watch other club-goers try to snatch their attention, and fail. Matching golden jewelry glints like stars, orbiting in the gravity of Sysba’s finessed sharp edges and Oisein’s deceptively soft smile. There’s a sense of boasting, gloating satisfaction in the way the eldritch runs their fingers over the sheevra’s neck in the open balcony for all to see.

A dare and a taunt. Look what I have and you don’t.

The edge of teeth inching closer to their jawline. Look what I’ll have later, and you’ll never know.

And if there’s a chance to secure a name or two to heighten the ecstasy they know will come, then all the better. (Well...within reason.‘Just don’t be sloppy,’ Sysba’s voice echoes).

But inevitably - blissfully - the pretty mask is left behind, discarded by the strip lighting of the stairs and under the dark revolving lights. Abandoned in the deep, guttural tones of the music thrumming through the walls and the ceiling, and thrown past the quickly locked door into the echoes of envious whispers.

And eventually - rapturously - all that’s left is crashing lips and hands and skin and bodies, quickly marked in that familiar blood red. A furious need to ravage, to have, with no time to come up for air.

Oisein’s back finds the silky edge of the bed first as they drown in the taste of Sysba’s tongue against theirs, the cool fabric noticeable even through their infuriatingly-still-on-their-body clothes. The makeup so carefully applied before runs rivers of scarlet far past the sides of their mouths, eddies and pools of color marking over ears, across cheeks, under jaws. All heightened by the muted red glow of the lamps around the darkened room, and the deep black shadows that shy away from the light reflecting off the ornate glass chandelier.

There’s a low moan.

Bed, it says.

A throaty hum in return.

Well, what are you waiting for?

Which is all Oisein needs to sink backwards, pulling, aching to keep the contact constant while lips move to their neck. Their back arches before they even hit the sheets, a fervent hiss when lips move onto cloth and remove their warmth from their bare skin. They start to move a hand upward to shift Sysba’s mouth back to the freckles dusted under their jaw-

“Sanctin…”

-only to feel a sudden pull against their head and a resonant, threatening voice in their ear.

“Isn't the name you should be calling.”

Dark pupils rise in their periphery while a hand grabs at their dirtied blond hair, strands catching on the rings still present and pulled tight within the god’s fist. Though the pain lances into Oisein’s skull, the pleasure coursing in their veins thrives and feeds on the feeling. They just manage to clamp down on the whimper building at the back of their tongue, but the shiver running through their chest betrays them.

The sheevra’s crown is pulled back to expose their neck again as Sysba gives a small, chiding shake of their head before returning to their task with a ravenous intent.

The brunette’s fist adjusts to maintain control, pinning down another arm in the wake of the movement while their other hand wraps finger by finger around the free wrist. They follow the path of red down across a jaw while their legs find more purchase on the edge of the bed, hiking their thighs underneath willing legs and splaying them open. All thought leaves Oisein except for the determination to hook their heels into the back of Sysba’s knees and bring them closer, ignoring the knowing chuckle escaping those bloodied, swollen lips.

But there’s still plenty of work to be done, as Sysba’s mouth transitions to cloth again alongside another frustrated groan vibrating through their lover’s chest. They bare their teeth then, biting through cloth and into the flesh of a collar on the notes of a gasp. Moving onto the gap in the cloth, they tease along the edge of the shirt’s window, a chuckle reverberating back when Oisein’s body curves to meet them. An elbow forces down on the sheevra’s side with another warning while they rock their waist down, teasing out a pitched whine that accompanies a burst of spots in Oisein’s vision.

And then, of course, they move torturously past the unobstructed skin, a patch that looks odd in its unmarked clarity. The cruelty continues as a mocking pressure is applied beneath their ribs, then their stomach, and then at the curve of their hips, a keen mouth edging closer to actually giving them an inch of release...

But a sigh of relief still echoes out from Oisein when they finally feel Sysba relax their grip and begin to loosen the blond’s shirt from the hem of their pants, pulling it free and quickly sliding their palms up over freckled skin and under the dark purple cloth. Cold fingers send more goosebumps washing over the tanned chest and into their shoulders as they’re permitted to lift their arms, hastily tugging and throwing aside the clothing into some inky corner to be forgotten.

Their skin is bare and far too clean, chest rapidly rising and falling. Impatience and greed demands them to reach downward, fingers sliding over their body to undo the clasp at their dark hemline, and the others to pull Sysba forward by the shirt they intend to tear off-

Only to have both hands ripped away and pinned mercilessly above their head.

Sysba only needs one hand to keep them securely restrained while a thumb seeks the sheevra’s lips again, lavender gaze widened with a mixture of shock and excitement. Fingers stain on the bright color smeared over Oisein’s chin, this time free in their want and painting a path of rubies over their open throat. The sheevra in question feels their lungs burning, eagerly awaiting for their senses to be filled with the intoxicating smell of sweat and perfume. Awaiting the moment they’ll be devoured by an insatiable lust, praying devoutly with anticipation as Sysba bends over to their ear.

“Now, now,“ coos the god, prepared to punish. “What did I say about behaving?”

[worth-more-than-two-thousand]

Returning from the Dead is Easier Said than Done...

Request: Welcome, Shiny! May I request an x Reader (can be fem or gender neutral) where Echo (post-citadel) comes up to their s/o's doorstep to give them flowers and ask them on a date? A plus if the Bad Batch teases him for dressing up nicely and buying flowers. Thank you! (@handmaidenthesimp)

Author’s Note: Enjoy! If anybody wants me to repost with a gender-neutral reader, just let me know. 

Story Notes: Some swearing, not much else to warn you about. Take place in-between Season 7 of CW and The Bad Batch. No Omega this time, sorry! 

🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑 🖑

Being declared dead was uncomplicated. Your Republic file was branded with a "KIA" stamp, everyone stoically mourned, and someone just a bit shinier would step in to fill your shoes. 

Being declared undead, however, was decidedly more complicated. Oh, Echo was reassigned to Clone Force 99 easily enough. But it was the little things that seemed to get mired in red tape. Getting his few personal effects back. Re-opening his modest credit account.

Approving a rental application.

Admittedly, it wasn't that Echo really needed his own place; clones were conditioned to be accustomed to share minimalist, often-cramped quarters. And they were always on the move, so it hardly made any financial or practical sense, in the long run. 

But right now, oh, did Echo dearly wish that he was dressing up in the privacy of his own space...and not the shared cabin area of the Havoc Marauder. 

He kept his face stoic, as though readying for battle, refusing to acknowledge his teammates goggling in the background. They had returned early from their supply run. Echo had meant to be out of here an hour ago, but (somehow) hadn’t counted on just how difficult it would be to get dressed into multiple clothing pieces with a scomp link for a hand. 

So that’s how his comrades found him: trying to wrangle a neck accessory into submission by sheer will. 

Oh, if Fives could see him now. 

“You look funny,” Wrecker had declared decisively after an unbearably long silence. “What’s that thing you’ve got on?” 

“It’s a suit,” he grumbled, refusing to look any of them in the eye. “I’m going to see Y/N.”

Wrecker gasped like a fishwife. He leaned forward, and pitched his voice low. As though the others couldn’t still hear him in the tinny space.  “Your girlfriend? You mean you’re going to see her for the first time....since…” Wrecker made a muted cartoonish sound with his mouth, clenching then expanding his fingers in a gesture for ‘explosion’.

Echo stared at him for a moment disbelievingly, before nodding slowly, forcing the sarcastic response he really wanted to say back down. He couldn’t fault Wrecker for being...well, Wrecker. He had all the tact of a rampaging bantha. 

“An’ what’s that? Around your neck?” 

Echo opened his mouth, but someone cut across his response. “A bowtie,” Crosshair drolled, though his eyes glittered with amusement. Echo tensed, knowing that he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. 

“Fifty credits says he chokes, and he ends up strangling himself with it in shame." 

“No way!” Wrecker exclaimed, always the optimist. He clapped Echo on the back, who was unprepared so his knees buckled. He felt his metal joints strain. “Don’t worry, Echo,” his brother rasped in the loudest whisper known to man. “I bet she’s gonna love it!” 

“You know,” Tech piped up unhelpfully, “Your strategy may backfire. The current deviation from your usual appearance may be so jarring for your beloved that she refuses your offer out of simple self-preservation instincts.” 

Echo gritted his teeth. “Right. You have stats to back that up, I suppose?” 

Tech blinked at him owlishly. “Of course I don’t. This is an obvious possible outcome.”

“I’m trying to look nice,” he snapped, scowling. 

There was a loaded pause. “...’trying’ being the objective word here,” Crosshair smirked.  

Before Echo could wipe the look off his comrade’s face with a well-placed ARC trooper punch that would’ve made Hardcase proud, Hunter wedged his way in between them, hands up in a conciliatory gesture. 

“All right, laugh it up, fellas. Personally, I think you’re all jealous because you don’t have a girl waiting for you like Echo does.” Hunter turned to face their newest member, took the bowtie that was clenched in Echo’s fist, and smoothed it out before proceeding to tie it around his neck with surprisingly deft hands. 

Crosshair ‘hmphed’ while Wrecker verbally agreed, looking slightly put out by the undeniable truth. Tech simply nodded in neutral confirmation. The group lapsed into a somewhat awkward (but not unwelcome) silence as Hunter finished tugging at the folded ends of the bow, then double-checking to ensure it was straight. He stepped back to assess his work.

“You look good,” he said sincerely.

Echo thought he was in the clear. 

Hunter frowned. “But...it looks like you’re missing something.” 

Or not. 

“Like dignity?” Crosshair drawled from a dark corner of the ship that Echo frustratingly couldn’t glare at. 

“A sense of self-confidence,” Tech suggested. He wasn’t joking. 

“FLOWERS!” Wrecker boomed confidently. “All girls like flowers. You gotta get her some before you see her!”   

“I...fine.” Echo relented, anything to get his teammates to shut up. He shoved his way through them towards the bridge. “I’ll get her some flowers. You all stay here until I get back. I mean it, Fives!” he warned.

An uneasy silence followed him, which he didn’t register until he reached the landing ramp. 

He shot an exasperated look back at them. “What?’ 

“...Your former comrade is not here, Echo.” Tech finally spoke. His words were clinical, as always, but there was a touch of understanding underlying his tone. 

Echo froze, just for a moment, then shook off the shock of his faux pas as best as he could. 

It wasn’t the first time that had happened, after all. 

Echo descended the landing ramp, squared his shoulders, and marched into town. 

Y/N lived in a run-down but culturally distinct district of Coruscant, characterized by food stalls from species and ethnicities all over the galaxy. Children often ran through the streets, sellers in colorful robes and attire shouting their wares and art for all to peruse. It was one of the nicer markets, he thought, having come here once. He had been accompanying Y/N on her usual run for specialized ingredients that made the diner she worked at the talk of the galaxy. 

Echo elbowed his way through the crowded street, content to simply blend in with the crowd, to forget about being a soldier for a moment. 

He paused at a flower stand and was mindful not to draw too much attention to his scomp-link hand as he ordered a dozen sunflowers, which he remembered were Y/N’s favorite. When his credit chip was declined, however, he sighed and reached into his pocket to see what spare change he could muster up. Being that he was wearing a never-worn suit, however, meant that there was no change to be found, and the unimpressed florist snatched the bouquet away. 

That’s okay, Echo. Y/N doesn't need flowers. She just wants to see you.

At least, he hoped that was the case. He hadn’t exactly written to her yet, unsure that he could sufficiently explain his sudden non-death in typed words...

Surprise! I’m not dead! Hey, you know that explosion on the citadel? Well, I survived! And out of it, I got an all-expenses paid trip to  the Techno Union research facility! Why didn’t I write? Well, I was in stasis most of the time and that part’s a bit fuzzy. I also was responsible for killing my brothers by using their own battle plans against them. Oh, and you might notice that I’m missing most of my fleshy bits these days… 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, which were more rapid these days thanks to his enhancements. He was good at compartmentalizing, though. He had to be. He was still a soldier, through and through, and no one wanted a soldier who was about two seconds away from a mental breakdown.

Yeah, a letter to Y/N wouldn’t have cut it. But he still felt like maybe he could have sent ahead some sort of...heads up? A warning? A ‘Please don’t scream when you see me because I don’t think my heart could take it?’ 

His feet finally guided him to the front entrance of the building where he knew she lived on the 14th floor. Glancing around, he spotted some blue flowers sprouting in a planter near the entrance. He yanked a fairly healthy-looking handful from the soil, shaking the roots to get most of the dirt off. He tucked the strangled roots into his fist so that they would be less obvious. 

It was time. He nodded to himself, squared his shoulders, and entered the building. 

A short elevator ride later, Echo could feed the sweat beading at his forehead and neck. At least his fight or flight response seemed to be healthy and alive, and Echo tuned out everything but the door in front of him, adorned with a purple wreath of lavender flowers. 

He stood in front of the door, and raised his hand to knock. 

He stood…

In front of the door…

...and raised his hand…

...to knock, you coward. Just fucking knock. 

His raised knuckles, however, refused to move. Echo caught a glimpse of himself in the curtained window panes on the sides of the door, and at the sight of his bloodless face, suddenly felt a whole lot less sure of himself. 

He looked ridiculous. 

He and Y/N had barely gotten to know each other before his untimely death. 

What if she was with someone new? 

This was a terrible idea. Echo should leave now, before he caused himself any more embarrassment. Crosshair might get his fifty credits, after all. 

Echo had just convinced himself to turn around and admit defeat, when the door suddenly swung open. 

Two Y/C/E eyes met his. 

There were points during Echo’s battle career where time slowed to a crawl. When an explosive grenade was thrown just a bit too close, or the comrade you had just exchanged banter with received blaster fire to the face. 

Echo was experiencing the same sensation now, but he would voluntarily stay in this moment forever, if he could. He fervently hoped his nightmares would be replaced with the sight that was etched before him. 

She was wearing her yellow work uniform, white apron pressed crisply with starch...and was as beautiful as ever. Her hair was up in a messy ‘late-for-work’ up-do, a smudge of blushed color not quite within the lines of her lips smearing her cupids’ bow where she had applied it in a rush.

He couldn’t determine whether her reaction to his sudden appearance was positive or not, and so didn’t dare speak first, breathlessly afraid that if he did, the moment would shatter. 

He saw her swallow hard, glancing at him from head to toe, gaze landing on his right hand. 

He guarded his heart. 

“Ech? Echo, is that you?” she whispered. Her eyes tore away from the scomp link hand, and began searching his face as though just as afraid he would disappear. 

He nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s me.”

The silence stretched out, and the fight or flight response was creeping back. 

“I know I look a bit different.” He tried for a light-hearted joke, but couldn’t quite get his tone to match. “Had some work done. What do you think?” He winced slightly.

She stepped forward and he froze as Y/N lifted her fingers, hesitating briefly before gently touching one of the metal bolts by his left temple. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“...do they hurt?” 

He gasped a little as he remembered to breathe again.

“No,” he reassured her, raising his undamaged hand to steady hers. “No, it doesn’t hurt.” 

“...good.” 

The wind was knocked out of him as Y/N flung her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, tardiness to her job completely forgotten. 

She began sobbing. It wasn’t neat little sobs, like in the scripted holovids, but heaving sobs that wracked her whole body, and he worried slightly that she was going to faint on him. He forgot about his scomp link for the first time as he rubbed it in circles against her back, murmuring nonsense words of comfort in her ear. 

After several minutes, she sniffled, stepping back. She rubbed her nose ungracefully where snot was leaking out, but Echo could have cared less about any of that. He only kept his arms out to steady her, in case she needed support again.

Y/N glanced down suddenly, and flushed.

“Oh. I’ve crushed them.”

Echo followed her gaze and saw that he was still holding the blue flowers from the planter in his good hand, the bouquet having been caught in between their bodies when she had thrown herself at him. They did look a little worse for wear. 

He shrugged unconcernedly. “They were free,” he said, not wanting her to feel guilty. 

She stared at him for a moment before a bubble of laughter burst from her lips. She still looked like she was about to sob at any moment, but she smiled tremulously at him through shining eyes. 

Desperate to make her feel better, he began rambling. 

“I can get you better ones! N-not right now, though,” he stuttered. “Actually, it turns out that I don’t have any credits on me at the moment. Everything’s still kind of backed up at the bank regarding my accounts. Also, this suit is new. Well. Not new. It used to belong to this woman’s father who we rescued during a mission on Bith. Long story.” His brain, which worked faster than usual these days anyways, still couldn’t seem to catch up to his mouth.

He forced himself to get back to the task at hand. “I was actually here to ask you for a date. I mean, assuming there’s no one else at the moment…oh, but you have your job to go do…bantha spit, I forgot about that...” He would have to ask Tech if it was possible for his brain to actually short-circuit.

Echo finally trailed off. Now he was the one blushing. 

The whole of Domino Squad was probably having a good laugh at his expense right about now, wherever they were. 

But Y/N was still smiling at him. And her chin had stopped wobbling. She gently took the flowers from Echo’s hand and placed them on one of the side tables in the hallway before intertwining her fingers with his and grasping his right hand without hesitation. 

“Forget about my job. Let’s go on that date. My treat. Though, if I know Dexter, he’ll give us a free meal, on the house. And the rest of the day off."

For the first time since he had joined Clone Force 99, since he had been rescued on Skako Minor, and even before the Citadel...Echo allowed a true grin of happiness to spread on his face. 

“A free meal,” he echoed. “Sounds like a plan.” 

[bukojuiice]

You got questions, I got answers tonight, babe.

ೃ pairing: (pro hero! katsuki bakugo x pro hero! fem reader)

ೃ  warnings: nsfw (18+)

ೃ genre: smut

ೃ word count: 2,139 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

  ೃ  shoto’s valentines fic → izuku’s valentines fic  → virtual valentines hcs 

ೃ  please reblog, reply or leave like if you enjoyed! it means a lot! c:

ೃ song inspo: love by dean ft. syd

ೃ you and the bakusquad drag bakugo to a short vacation after such an intense week of hero work, much to his annoyance. however, his stress and pent up energy was more than you expected, so you knew exactly how to release all his frustrations.

After an intense first week of Pro Hero activities, you were given a 5 day rest period. The Bakusquad had a wonderful idea of going on a short vacation to Okinawa before you guys have to face reality again.

You practically dragged your boyfriend, Bakugo to come along as he had second thoughts and didn’t want to ruin his so called “villain streak” by taking a well-deserved rest and relaxation when he could just continue fighting off villains.

Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, and Sero were so excited for this trip that they could not shut up about it. In turn, Katsuki was more irritated than usual as you take the plane ride there. He was forced to go on this trip after all.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You had arrived late in afternoon and the first thing that you guys do as soon as you arrive at the hotel was dropping the bags in your respective hotel rooms. You and Bakugo were in one room while everyone else had separate rooms entirely to themselves.

Before you could even take a full look at the room you were staying in, your pink-haired friend came knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)-chan!” Mina spoke from behind the door, her gleeful voice ever so echoing. “We’ll meet you two at the swimming pool lounge okay? We’ll be ordering food already!”

“Alright! We’ll see you later Mina-chan!” You shout back, and as soon as Mina heard your words of confirmation, you could hear her footsteps as she walks away.

Bakugo continues to rummage through his things, cursing under his breath.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask him sweetly, poking his cheek. “Look, Katsuki-kun… you need to rest. It’s been an intense week, even the Hero Commission wanted us to-“

“Yea. Yea. I get it. Let’s go to the lounge.” He says harshly. He leaves the door open as you follow suit.

“That was… cold.” You blink, trying to process what your boyfriend had just said.

The two of you arrive at the lounge area however the rest of the Bakusquad was nowhere to be seen. Bakugo approaches a waiter and begins to order whilst you decided to go around the area to look for your other friends.

You were minding your own business when a weird and bad-intentioned man begins to approach you. You didn’t pay him any attention at first since you were occupied with looking for your friends, but the weirdo was persistent.

“A pretty girl like you alone in a resort like this?” He coos, trying to catch your attention. “I must be dreaming.”

“Piss off.” You snarled before he could even touch your arm, you quickly run back to Katsuki, as the weirdo loses sight of you. You slowly pace back to Bakugo who had an annoyed expression on his face. When you arrive at the area where he was standing, he grabs your hand and takes you to the elevator.

He clicks on the button that led to your floor and swipes the card key to your room, he comes to a sudden stop when you enter your dark hotel room, and he looks down at your hand in his like he’d forgotten he’d been holding it.

You pull Katsuki closer, twisting your hand around to take his more firmly.

His strong fingers fit perfectly between yours, and you know he can feel it too by the way he tightens his grip. His other hand settles on your waist, holding you against him, so close you can practically feel his heart beating.

“Did you really have to pull me out of the lounge area like that?” You pout seductively.

“Tch. (Y/N)….” He says your name in his low voice that sounds like an “I want you,” but you need to hear his actual words. You can see he’s so used to trying to brush things off that it’s an instinct, but he fights against it.

“Because I couldn’t stand to see an asshole try to make a move on you while I was at the other side of the area, waiting for the food. Who the hell gave him permission to even be within a few meters of you?”

His voice is irritated and strained. Your heart races under the intensity of his gaze, all his unspoken desire just beneath the surface.

  “It’s okay Katsuki-kun. You saw how I brushed him off… What did you take me back here for?”

He moves suddenly, backing you against the wall. You gasp, and then he’s right there, pinning you to the surface, hands on either side of your head.

As you shift, you hit the light switch, and the room is illuminated, revealing the bed. Katsuki goes still as he sees it.

“Of fucking course. Of course Mina would book one bed instead of two.”

His voice is tight, barely restrained. As if he wants to release an intense surging energy inside him. Your body is attuned to his tension. He’s coiled so tight, you feel it radiating off of him.

“Katsuki. Answer me. What did you take me back here for?”

His eyes drop to your lips. You feel his breath skimming against them.

“The way that fucking sleezeball loser looked at you… I couldn’t help it. You’re everything. And I want you more than anything.” Your stomach swoops at his intensity. He’s finally giving you the honesty you’ve been asking for but your conscience chimes in for a second.

“Katsuki…”

He brushes his thumb against your lips, and it’s like a bolt of electricity races through you, leaving you tingling for him.

His stare becomes more and more intense, as if he was craving for something.

“(Y/N), tell me. Right here, right now, what do you want?”

“It’s you, Katsuki. I want you.”

He sucks in a breath then crashes his mouth to yours. You both let out moans as he pushes you harder against the door and you pull him closer.

He kisses you hard and you melt at the feel of his lips and tongue, the sounds of your gasps and needy moans filling the quiet hotel room.

“Fuck. I’ll never ever get enough of this. Every time I kiss you, I get more desperate for the next one.” His throaty groan makes your stomach swoop again, and you tangle your fingers into his spiky hair.

You wink at him, your eyes giving off the same passion and love in his. “Then don’t stop.”

He brushes his lips against yours. It feels so light, yet the desire and the lust behind it is so powerful you can’t help but not resist.

“(Y/N)…”

A shiver runs through you as his mouth covers yours. Everything narrows to the feeling of his kiss, slow and intense like he’s taking his time tasting you.

His hands slide down to your sides to hold your hips, the heat of his body radiating against yours.

As your desire grows, you try to deepen the kiss to match the rate of your racing heart, but he draws back as it starts to get intense.

His eyes smolder, intense and teasing at the same time.

He nips gently at your ear and you arch against him. His hands slide up to grip your waist, pulling you tight to his body while still pushing you back against the door.

“(Y/N)… say my name again…”

You crash your lips to his again, feeling and pouring all your desire and impatience into the kiss. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the door above your head, his show of power making you giddy. You arch against him, and he sucks in a harsh breath, fingers digging into your wrists with delicious pleasure.

Katsuki’s eyes darken, and he captures your mouth with a desperate kiss, tongue sliding against yours, leaving you breathless. You tip your head back against the door as he runs his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking with every inch of his love.

He grabs your hips and pulls you off the door, steering you to the center of the room. You throw your arms around him and speak with your lips pressed onto his. You moan as he kisses down your neck, gasping as his teeth scrape against your skin and he soothes the spot with his tongue.

“(Y/N)…” He says demandingly. “I need you. Right now.”

He takes a step back and starts to undo the buttons of his shirt, but you still his hand with your own.

“Sit back and relax Suki-kun. Let me do it.”

He bites his lip at the term of endearment, or maybe at the thought of you peeling off his clothes.

You brush your lips against the corner of his mouth, and feel him shiver. His chest rises and falls as you continue to slowly unbutton his dress shirt, grinning wolfishly as you toss it to the floor.

“(Y/N)…” there’s an impatient growl in his voice. His hands flex at his sides, and you know he’s dying to touch you, to rip your clothes off.

“Shh. Your patience will be rewarded.”

You press your palm to the center of his chest, then drag it downwards over the ridges of his abs, following the path of his well-toned abs. He rolls his hips forward as you undo the clasp of his belt, and he catches your wrist in an iron tight grip.

“I can’t wait any longer.”

The hunger in his voice makes your brain feel like it stopped for a second, and before you realize it, he’s undressing you.

“Ah. Yes. I will never get tired of how impatient you are.” You shake your head yet feel nothing but arousal from the way he looks at you as he continues.

“I can’t help myself when you’re so irresistible,” He shrugs then smirks.

You help him undress you, and soon your clothes are lying in a heap on the floor. He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you against him. You both moan at the feeling of your bodies pressed together, the heat emanating from the both of you.

Your stomach swoops as he spins the two of you around, backing toward the bed. He falls down onto the mattress and pulls you down on top of him.  He laughs, his voice husky at your look of surprise, bringing his hands to your waist to steady you as you lift yourself up to look down at him.

Still laughing a little, you lean down to kiss him, and it quickly grows heated as the intensity between the two of you spikes.

He’s still in his pants and you make quick work of the belt and zipper. He lifts his hips up to pull them off and throws them aside. 

You press your hand against his cock over his underwear, and he bucks against you, head thrown back.

“Ah…”

You feel the heat of his desire through the fabric, but what you want is right beneath.

 You close your teeth around the waistband and tug them down. He groans, lifting his hips to help you get them off. Once you cast his underwear aside, you wrap your lips around his member and suck briefly, a teasing touch that has him arching higher off the bed.

Before you could even process what had just happened, he throws a leg over you and flips the two of you over so that he’s on top and your legs are parted around his hips.

You call out his name as he roughly removes your underwear and creeps between your legs to tease his fingers against you, sending bolts of pleasure racing through all parts of your body.

“K-Katsuki…”

His mouth is hot against your neck as he speaks in a rush, hips rolling against yours.

“Make this one last the w-whole night,” you whisper in between breaths.

Lust flashes in his eyes and he growls deep, slowing the movement of his fingers against you.

You gasp as you feel him push into you, taking one of your hands and lacing his fingers with yours.

He sets a tantalizingly slow pace, making you groan loudly at the purposeful way he thrusts into you.

You grip onto his muscular shoulders, giving yourself over to the exquisite feeling as he bites back several deep groans of his own. He ducks his head to kiss your breasts, then begins to suck your nipples, sending shivers through your body as pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside you.

He stills suddenly, and you groan in a mix of pleasure and frustration, lifting your hips to search for more.

“You want this to last the whole night, huh? I’m going to give you what you want.”

You throw your head back as he starts moving again, your moans filling the room as he teases you toward that bliss, as you lose all sense of time.

_______

“(Y/N)! BAKUBRO!” You hear Kaminari knock on the door playfully. “Were you guys THAT exhausted that you did nothing but sleep yesterday!? We didn’t see you guys by the pool! Is something wrong? Are you guys sick!?”

You were cuddling with Katsuki after such an intense but amazing night, still wearing nothing, the blankets and comforters being the only ones shielding you from anything. 

“W-we’re fine Kaminari-kun.” You say groggily, Bakugo’s strong arms still wrapped around you, giving you all the warmth and comfort you need. “W-we’ll be down in an h-hour.” 

“Ok then! See you!” Kaminari leaves as soon as he arrives. You sigh softly and turn to your explosive boyfriend who was still sound asleep, you rest your head on his chest as you too, drift back to dreamland, excited for what else this vacation has in store for you.

-Fin.