#no one knew about the mimics until later

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Oh, so that's who's Sally! 👁️👁️

Yeah!

Sally is an adult mimic that fused to a train in the 1800s!

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic - tw: pregnancy Simon Riley / female reader

"Happy Birthday Orion, happy birthday to you!"

Everyone claps and your baby, no, your one year old, beams, enamored by the attention as his dad leans over and points at the candles. "Can you blow? Like this," he mimics, only to receive a giggle instead, Orion's eyes turning serious as he watches his dad blow the candles out in one short breath, his fists crashing into the cake and then smashing it on Simon's nose.

Your hand settles over your stomach subconsciously.

Everyone laughs. Kyle practically howls, Johnny bending over at the waist. The reaction makes Orion giggle like mad, and you lean against the door frame, soaking it in.

You already sent a million pictures to your family, hoping to alleviate their guilt about not being able to make it, their absence missed but not to a point where you feel it sharply.

Things are just different now.

You've built a life, this life, with Simon and Orion. With Cami, and Kyle, Ellie and John, even Johnny. It's a life you're happy in, a life you love, tucked up in this quiet town, nestled in the hills. The three of you, the wives, formed a friendship, a connection, leaning on each for support, building camaraderie over the long weeks and months of being alone.

Simon clears his throat at your side. "Where are you?"

"Nowhere." You lay your head on him. "I can't believe we have a one year old."

"I know. It's going too fast." He wraps his arms around your shoulders, tucking you close. "Cute bugger though." Orion is half eating his cake, half smashing into onto Johnny's face. He swats your ass. "C'mon. Don't you want a picture?"

Later, when everyone is gone, and the kitchen is clean, and the windows are open to let in the breeze, you teeter at the edge of the room while Simon puts Orion down. "Stop growing up, big guy." He traces two fingers down his cheek, careful not wake him. "Love you." Your heart skips.

"He asleep?" He doesn't even turn. He knew you were there, he always knows where you are in the house, like he can hear your breathing, or sense you.

"He is." You reach for him.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

Simon coaxed your initial agreement to have another baby out when he was holding you on the edge, cock nestled inside you, his uniform scraping against your skin. It was a heat of the moment thing, a 'please make me come' thing, but afterwards-

Afterwards, you sat with it. You sat with it for months. You tossed it back and forth, wavering, walking the tightrope of the decision.

You knew, in your heart, all along.

There was no decision to make.

You curl into him, mangled and mashed against his body, legs twisted together, an arm anchoring your thigh. "You've been thinkin' all day, honey. Don't think I haven't seen ya."

"I have." Your voice is gentle in the dark, soft as a whisper, breathy on his chest. He tenses.

"What is it?" He doesn't like this, you know. Doesn't like when you slip into your own mind. Since the incident, it's been harder, harder for him to feel comfortable, harder for him to push back against his anxiety. He worries, too much. Far too much.

"Everything's fine," you assure quickly, "Everything is okay, Si. I promise." It's building up inside you, a storm destroying everything in its path, fighting its way forward until there's no choice left except to let it out.

"Tell me, mama. Whatever it is, I-"

"I'm pregnant." He freezes.

"What?"

"I'm pregnant, Simon." You're rolled onto your back immediately, arms caging you in, thighs spread and bracketing yours.

"Tell me again." He demands, and you laugh, tangling your fingertips in his hair, tugging on his arm to drag his hand across your lower belly.

"We're having another baby." There's a look in his eye, heavy and wild, rich unending depths, one you're familiar with now, the instinctual, possessive, insane look he gets when you catch him staring at you. He doesn't speak, the silence sparking unease in the back of your mind. "Say something." He shakes his head, rolling down your body until he's nestled between your knees, mouth hot beneath your belly button.

"I'm gonna take care of you, of both of you," he pants the oath, inscribing it, branding you. "I'm gonna take such good care o' you, mama."

"I know Si, I know."

"I'm gonna be here, I'll take leave, text Price right now-"

"Okay, slow down," you knead his shoulders, "we've got a ways to go until you'll need to take leave, okay? Don't worry." His forehead rests on your stomach, and you can't resist the urge to poke at him a bit. "So... you're happy about it then?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm... I'm very happy." The words are thick, and he keeps his face turned down so you can't see. They sound wet. "I love you. You're everything to me. Orion, you, this baby- I... love you."

"I love you too." He tugs, pulling you close.

"I hope it's a girl. A little piece of you, with your eyes." You smile, stroking his hair.

"We'll have to wait and see."

[dumbandfunn]

cowboy!rafe teaching spoiled!reader how to ride 🤞🤞🤞

oh i love this

“i don’t know if i can,” you murmur, watching with widened eyes as he tightens up the saddle on his horse stood a few metres from you. he was getting fed up now, it had been a back and forth like this for almost ten minutes now; and lord knows patience definitely wasnt his virtue. he scoffs out something that sounded like a laugh, pulling you by your arm and manhandling you to be stood on the step stool he had already gotten ready. “begged me all day yesterday to teach you baby, s’you’re gonna sit on this damn horse for more than five minutes, alright? got shit to do and i’m here taking time out of my day for this, hm?” you sigh heavily out of your nose, nodding nonetheless, jolting backwards ever so slightly when the animal in front of you almost mimics you, rafe’s fingers only squeezing your hips tighter to keep you in place. you look back at him, eyebrows creased and bottom lip adorably jutted out. “what if i fall off?”

“you won’t. s’why i’m here.”

“—get. on.”

you nod slowly, throwing one leg over the placid mount, a quiet squeal leaving you when he moves just slightly. your eyes were squeezed shut, having abandoned the hand rafe had held out for you when you finally got on to now holding on to the leather saddle for a fear of your life. it was fine at first, it wasn’t so bad, not until the horse started to move from a mere pat on the side from your boyfriend.

“i want to get off,” you cried out, frantically looking back at rafe who looked more amused than you’ve probably ever seen him. that definitely fuelled your tantrum. his amusement didn’t last long, not when you were practically screaming for him (and your life) when the horse started to get spooked from your dramatics. “jesus christ,” he grits. he manhandled you off that horse the exact same way he got you on, muttering under his breath, and you falling silent because you knew just how much you had pissed him off. “you never listen to me, i said i wanted to get off— and now—” you cut yourself off, doe eyed and chewing down on your bottom lip at his intense stare down at you. he looked deep in thought, swiping a hand across his mouth in frustration. “rafey i really tried,” you murmur.

“tried?” he mimics, and you nod up at him.

“how about we give you somethin’ else to try? seein’ as you wanted to ride something so bad huh?”

no doubt he has you quivering in his lap a mere five minutes later, dress bunched up to your tits and rutting up into you just a little extra hard than usual, muttering out between grunts about how he still has to fuck the attitude out of you, and how you’re not always gonna get your way around him. you were practically mewling in his shoulder, biting down on his skin occasionally when it got just a little bit too much. “yeah? you like that baby? s’this what you really wanted,” he huffs out. the squelching sound of where you were connected making your head roll back, absolutely no coherent sentences leaving your lips.

“i’ll be good i promise, i’ll try again tomorrow” you manage, whining and clawing at any part of him you could find, frantic eyes from his slightly parted lips down to the small bulge he had created in your stomach.

“yeah’ i know you will— shit”

[callmerainman]

Accidentally In Love | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

PART 1 | PART 2

plot. You and Adam became friends with benefits. The lines of your situationship are blurred. Even more so when you and the First Man get closer and closer. What will it take you to understand that you and Adam are falling in love?

word count. 3.8k

tags. enemies to lovers, sinner!Adam, friends with benefits, sexual content, p in v sex, Adam Has a Heart, falling in love, Reader has wings, Reader is Lucifer's Royal Guard.

TW! this chapter contains an explicit sexual scene, MINORS DNI

taglist. @kaces-mind @call-me-nyxx @serendipitous-fernweh @plutodestr0yedme @luvvnightingalee

a/n. here it is, final chapter! Thank you for reading this silly little fic, I'll for sure write more about Adam soon! Hope you enjoyed it <3

"and now I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like I love you"

—

It’s karaoke night for you and Adam. Yeah, karaoke night. At first it started off as a joke. One time, after an usual afternoon of strenuous intercourse, you and Adam found yourselves singing “Out on the Tiles” by Led Zeppelin. You had decided to put on some music in shuffle to try to muffle up your obscene sounds that both of you understood you couldn’t contain. Next thing you knew you and Adam were performing an improvised gig on the already ruined bed of your room.

“I’m so glad I’m living and gonna tell the world I am” you sang out of your lungs, holding an imaginary mic.

You pointed towards Adam, prompting him to finish the lyrics. Smiling, Adam clenched his hand in a fist to pretend to be on the mic too. He leaned backwards, throwing his head back.

“I got me a fine woman and she says that I’m her man” he sang back, enthusiastically.

This singing shenanigans would happen so often that you decided to set your own karaoke night on Fridays. You and Adam stole a karaoke machine from a bar and installed it in his room. And now he’s holding you by the shoulders, vigorously shaking you in a playful manner as you can’t stop laughing.

“Feels like you’re dying, you’re dying” he sings with all the air he could gather.

You bend in half, this time a real mic in your hand “Youuuuuuu, your sex is on fire”.

Adam mimics a guitar riff with an high pitched voice as you sing along to Kings of Leon.

“Consuuuuuumed, with what’s to transpire!” Adam goes, crouching onwards himself.

Something definitely changed between you and Adam. You still don’t know what it is but it’s pacifying you.

—

The other patrons at the Hotel noticed, even though a bit later. Your relationship was so obviously sexual that none of them really stopped to think if there was more. Until signs started to show.

One time, all of you were watching a movie downstairs. You had forced Adam to participate even if he didn’t want to and was suggesting to have another karaoke night instead. But in the end, you both plopped down on the couch next to each other with everyone and got comfortable in front of a romantic comedy Charlie put on. At first, you and Adam tried to keep your facade of annoyance. You and him were so dense, you didn’t think the others knew that you two were fucking, so you had to pretend to still hate each other. But, as the movie progressed, you and Adam lost your purpose of showing a fake resentment. You glanced down and noticed the tip of your fingers resting really close to Adam’s. His fingers, weirdly enough, were moving in a jerking motion, stroking the fabric of the couch back and forth, as if he was nervous. You moved your fingers closer. With unusual uncertainty from his part, Adam slid his fingers even closer to yours, making them touch. And you and Adam held hands. You decided not to mention it, staring at the TV with your face on fire and his cheeks colored in a red hue. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole movie, and when it ended you separated quickly, again naively thinking that nobody noticed. But, during the movie, Angel had definitely noticed. The spider demon let out one of the loudest gasps in his life as he covered his mouth with four hands. When you and Adam went upstairs later, everyone was still hanging out in the common room. And Angel raised his shoulders and arms.

“Are y’all blind or did you see what I saw?” he asked, almost irritated.

“What?” Cherri asked while mindlessly scrolling on her phone.

“Like, (Y/N) and Adam holding hands?!” he exclaimed, his arms dramatically falling flat on his sides.

“They’ve been fucking like two horny rabbits for months and this is where you draw the line?” Husk questions, raising a red eyebrow.

“Fucking is one thing, holding hands while watching a romantic movie is another!” Angel protest.

Cherri chuckles “It’s obvious by the amount of sex they have that there’s more”.

“Obvious?” Angel questions “Uhhh, hello?? Hate sex is a thing!”.

And that wasn’t the one and only time. Seems so obvious to everyone now, except to you two. It’s in the way you and Adam snuggle during movies, or when you’re cooking and he hugs you from behind, resting his chin in the space between your horns. It’s in the fact that you don’t call each other names anymore unless you’re having sex. Or when you fly around the city together pulling pranks on people, and sing your hearts out during karaoke. Now it’s not only in the way you two wildly wrestle under the sheets. It’s in the goofy way you try to sweep it under the carpet.

“Uh, we’re going upstairs uh to…FIGHT! Definitely not to have sex! Because we hate SEX!” Adam stopped “No wait, I love sex, I mean-“

“We’d HATE to have sex with each other!” you say, trying to back him up.

“Exactly, not with such a stupid cunt!”

“Hey, too much” you whisper, elbowing his side.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry babe”

And everybody looked at you the most unconvinced, inexpressive poker face. But Charlie, underneath, felt that it was heartwarming. Even if Adam whispered in your ear a “can’t wait to fuck your brains out” when displaying apparent affection, she knew that something was going on and it was nothing but beautiful. This is the purpose of the Hazbin Hotel, after all.

—

Honestly you have no idea what you and Adam are right now. First, you were just a Royal Guard who had to surveil the First Man on Earth, the Exterminator. Then you became his friend with benefits. Now sex is still here, but maybe you’re more friends than anything? Or more. Nothing was defined. You never set boundaries. You had your fair chances of getting intimate with other people, but it felt so wrong so you never went for sex. Adam felt the same. When Cherri brought everyone to the club to have a night out, he had his opportunities to have sex with other girls. But he just didn’t feel like it was right. Especially not if you were in the club with him.

“You can do what you like, you know?” you suggested him in his ear one of those times, in a space between the bar counter and the dance floor. But Adam just shook his head.

“Nah, don’t really feel like it. I mean, yeah that bitch with the black top was all over me but she’s not my type”

He tried to play it cool, not looking at you in the eyes. But in reality, Adam was just checking around to see if your friends were looking. And when he made sure that they were out of sight, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. It was unexpected coming from him, sure, but you let yourself melt in his kisses as music bumped in your ears. Something was happening.

—

“Here you are” you say.

Your hair is flowing, moved by the slow but firm flapping of your wings. You’re suspended meters and meters high, just in front of the Hazbin Hotel sign. Adam is sitting on the “Z”, holding his golden guitar in his hands. He looks kinda annoyed.

“I was just practicing guitar” he says.

“And I’m still a Royal Guard on duty”

“If your duty is going at it with the one guy you were supposed to surveil, then you’re already doing a great job”

You roll your eyes and scoff “Funny, very funny Adam”.

“Alright, you can hear me play something” he gives in.

“As long as it’s not Wonderwall”

“The fuck no, I fuckin’ hate the Oasis!”

So, with another flap of your wings, you gracefully land next to him. You expect Adam to go wild with one of his exaggerated, over-the-top and ego-boosting guitar solos. But instead, Adam quietly starts a finger picking, quite tune. It’s not a specific rock song, just a chill, peaceful chord progression. Adam starts humming a tune, eyes closed. You press your elbows against your knees and rest your cheek in the open palm of your hand, looking at the view. Pentagram City is a mess, for sure. But with Adam’s unusually calm vocalizing, and his presence, it feels like home. You peek a look at Adam. He’s still keeping his eyes closed, it’s the first time you see him so calm, and not his loud, immature self. He’s beautiful. You realize that your face is hot. And you can’t see it but your pupils are dangerously dilated. You press your lips together, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Oh you know what’s happening. Maybe you should make it stop. You try to take a deep breath. You’re so in love with Adam.

Adam is lost in his own thoughts and music. He was so comfortable in your presence as he strummed that he almost forgot you were there. He opens his eyes, he just wants to take a quick look at you before closing them again. He realizes that he’s done for the moment he sees how you’re looking at him. With shining eyes, dilated pupils, a fond smile on your face. He doesn’t really realize what it means for you, neither do you. But now his heart is beating at unprecedented speed. Shit, shit, shit. It’s not the first time it happens with you. One time, he felt this way when he woke up before you and saw you sleeping naked next to him, cuddled in his arms. The other was when you held hands for the first time during movie time with the other guests. But this time he’s feeling it on a whole other level. You’re so beautiful. And you’re standing by him listening to his tunes despite the man he is. The one who did so much harm but it’s trying to get better. Adam doesn’t know if he actually has gained any redeeming qualities, but one thing he’s sure about is that at least with you he is a better man. He thinks back on when you two used to argue non stop, resenting each other’s presence. It looks like a far, distant reality that never happened, if anything it’s at least a joke. Adam is so in love with you.

—

Sex still represents the majority of your relationship with Adam. Unlike your feelings, it never changed. Always so loud, fun, satisfying for sure, and unhinged. You and Adam could unleash your personalities at best under the sheets, and that was the best part of it. But this time, something is out of place. Not in a bad way, at all.

Adam is on top of you, placed between your spread legs. His wings are wide open, covering your naked bodies and encapsulating them in a small space reserved to only you two. His thrust are firm, but also slow and sensual, which wasn’t really his style. He’s holding your face with both hands, as he’s mesmerized by your deep moans of pleasure. You cling onto him with nails and legs, holding him as if he was about so slip away. You open your eyes, and catch him staring. He would usually say something sarcastic, like asking the fuck are you looking at. But instead, he looks lost in a profound state of blissful hypnosis, his pupils dilated and mouth slightly parted. Then, Adam plunges forward, still sliding in and out of you with slick sounds. Your breathing becomes even more irregular, hips jerking under his body as waves of pleasure hit you. You tug at Adam’s hair in the spot between his horns. With one hand, Adam firmly holds your hip, while the other has its fingers entangled in your hair, lightly pulling them.

“A-Adam…please I’m so close” you stutter. You would never beg usually, but this time it’s hard not to do so.

What surprises you is the way Adam responds. He would have usually bragged about you begging for him to make you reach your climax, reminding you how much of a whore you are for him. And you would have protested by flipping the roles and making him a mess under your body. But Adam just sinks his face in your neck, whispering.

“I know baby, I know. I got you” he says, interrupted by a moan “Fuck you’re doing so good I swear”.

His movements in you become more erratic, sloppier, and his breath hotter against your ear. The fingers plunged in your hair start stroking your scalp, you try to suffocate your moans of pleasure in his shoulder. You come first around his shaft, whispering quietly his name until you come down from your high. Adam climaxes second, emitting a low, strangled moan in your neck as his wings twitch. You take some time to realize how good it was, your chests rising and lowering with every breath, holding each other. It’s when your mind clears that you realize how atypical of a sexual encounter that was for you and Adam. It was…sweet? Really intimate and not in the physical meaning of the word? Adam never praised you in bed, and you never spoke to him so gently asking to make you finish. And the way he looked at you was absurd, to say at best. With a cherry colored hue on his cheeks, and a light in his eyes you rarely saw in him.

“Ah shit that was great” Adam chuckles, collapsing next to you.

The pride in his face says it all, maybe you were wrong before. You mentally shrug.

“Yeah” you roll on your side, facing him “but I’m so hungry right now”.

Adam sighs, looking up at the ceiling “When I was in Heaven, there was this place that delivered the best fucking ice cream your taste buds could ever graze. A mountain of it. Great for after sex I swear. I miss it”.

Adam takes the opportunity to talk about Heaven more. He’s clearly being nostalgic. He misses it. And while you like hearing him waffling about all the crazy concert he performed, the best restaurants, theme parks and clubs in Heaven, you can’t help but frown. A small smile still lingers on your face, but you ask yourself if Adam really belongs in here. A part of you says of course yes, the other is unsure.

“You know” you say, scooting closer to him “I’ve never really asked myself about how life in Heaven would be. But it really sounds like a beautiful place”.

Adam nods, twisting on his side to face you “Oh fuck yeah it was, I wish I could…”

He interrupts himself as he meets your face, pressed against the pillow. A small, comprehensive smile is gently placed on it, and your eyes are stuck in his own with a visible shine.

Oh no don’t look at me like that.

Adam’s grin disappears, he looks away and tries to play it cool as always, glancing around the room. He clears his throat.

“Yeah I mean, Heaven was great but under a certain perspective…” he trails off.

You wait for him to finish, and he can’t escape your eyes. He finally reciprocates again, getting lost into them.

“Hell is not half-bad, for some reasons” he says.

Adam doesn’t realize it, but now he’s smiling too. His eyebrows are arched upwards in adoration as he ponders on every inch of you. Your now relaxed expression, your glimmering eyes, your naked body covered in white sheets, your head slightly plunged in the pillow. Suddenly, Adam’s smile fades. His eyes go wide, and his heart skips a beat. A wave of realization hits him.

“Holy shit (Y/N) I’m so in love with you”.

Both of you jump in surprise, moving away from each other as the mattress bounces under your bodies. You clench the sheets, and you feel your heart pounding. Where did that come from?!

“What?!” you exclaim.

“WHAT?!” Adam yelps back, incredulous of his own words.

He didn’t mean to say it out loud, he didn’t even mean to say it in his mind actually. You can feel his own panic on your skin, as every inch of your body figuratively catches fire. You don’t know what to say. Adam sits up, covering his face with a hand in embarrassment.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry I ruined everything!” he exclaims, voice panicky.

“Ruined what?”

Oh no. It takes you a second to realize what you said. Adam’s hand files down from his face and looks at you. And you see something you thought you would never witness on Adam’s face. Pain. Adam is hurt. His mouth is slightly open, his breath suspended, his eyebrows knitted. You used to call him many names when you two argued. An asshole, a dirtbag, a dickhead, an irresponsible, immature jerk. But Adam never batted an eye. It’s the first time you see an unmistakable, terrible flash of pain in his face. You feel horrible. You sit up, your mouth open and about to say something. It’s hard to gather the right words after saying something so wrong. You extend a hand towards him, but Adam leans back, away from your touch.

“Adam fuck that’s not what I…” you say, voice shaky.

Adam shuffles away from you again, his face full of regret, embarrassment and clearly pain. He shakes his head, proceeding to get out of bed. He starts looking frantically for his clothes, putting them on as quick as he can. No words come out your mouth, your mind too confused and full of things to process. In just a matter of seconds, Adam is already dressed.

“I-I’m sorry, I gotta go” he stutters, looking at you for a split second.

“Adam, wait! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sa-!”

You don’t have time to finish what you have to say. Adam had already opened the window of your room, and in the blink of an eye he flew away. Shit, shit, shit! Why did you even say that? That came out so wrong. But you couldn’t help it, you were so taken aback by his sudden confession. You mentally punch yourself in the face. Physically, you limit yourself to drag a hand down your face and groan loudly in your palm. You try to give yourself some time to think, you don’t want to hurt Adam even more. You spend some minutes with your face smothered in your pillow, suffocating sounds of pure frustration. After you gathered your thoughts together, you finally get up from the bed. You put your clothes back on, and head towards the still open window. With a strong flap of your wings, you sprint upwards. As you thought, Adam is sitting on the Hotel sign. He looks pissed. His lips are tightly pressed together and his eyebrows are knitted at the corners. He notices you but doesn’t look up.

“Adam, c’mon…” you say, as kindly as you can.

You keep floating in front of him, the wind generated by your wings making Adam’s hair slightly flow. He doesn’t look at you, he’s just staring at his own knees. For a solid minute you two don’t say anything. Silence has never been a thing between you and Adam, but you respect his wish. Suddenly, Adam breaks it.

“It’s not like you have to pity me” he mumbles.

“I’m not pitying you”

“Um yeah? I just ran off like a pissy school girl and here you are looking at me like a lost child”

“Adam-“

“You know how much time has passed since I last said those words?”

You don’t say anything. Adam finally looks up at you, his eyes a mess of emotions.

“Centuries” he says, spiteful of himself.

Your eyebrows arch upwards in surprise, your forehead corrugated. Your stomach burns, as you can finally feel every emotion Adam tried to hide under sarcasm for so long.

“Centuries?” you ask.

“Yeah, and I know I’ve been literally fucking around for a lot of time so it’s actually my fault, but I can’t say that I don’t mean it once I say it”

“Adam, my question was genuine”.

His mind stops in his tracks. You look weirdly calm. A bit unsure, of course, this is your first very serious conversation. But you’re still collected and he envies you.

“I really wanted to ask you what did you think you ruined. Because I’ll admit it, and I don’t wanna hurt you even more, but I don’t know what goes on in your head. We have all this sex, but also some care, but we also bicker. It’s confusing. I don’t even know if monogamy is your thing. But you showed me care. Sometimes, you still are a bit of a jerk let’s be honest. But I felt care too”.

Your stomach is twirling around, but you can’t stop your flow of consciousness. You wanna know what Adam means, what the First Man wants from a sinner he swore to hate not so long ago. Adam strokes his hair with a hand. His blush intensifies.

“I myself don’t really know what we are. If you know please fuckin’ tell me. What I know is that I feel something, love if that’s what we wanna call it. I mean, look at you! You sing along to rock songs with me, you know how to fight and look so badass while doing it, and you’re hot as fuck too! But if you don’t feel the sa-“

In a sudden movement, you zip towards Adam and grab him by his robe to push him on your lips. He lets out a muffled sound of surprise, but quickly closes his eyes to reciprocate the kiss. It’s calm, sweet, your lips and tongue are moving in tandem in such a tender yet passionate manner. It’s full of care, whatever it is. When you pull away, you look at each other in slight embarrassment. But you push it back immediately.

“I would have never thought I’d say it to you, but I do love you, Adam. Even if you’re still not perfect at all, you’re still a dickhead let’s admit it, I feel something for you. And I don’t expect you to suddenly become a better person just for the sake of being with me, but right now I’m sure I love you like this”.

You had blurted it all out in a single breath, still close to Adam’s face after your kiss. And finally, he smiles. Not with his usual teasing, shit eating grin. He smiles genuinely.

“I still don’t know if I’ll be a redeemable man, or if I want to become one. But at least with you I feel a bit of a better man”.

You smile back at Adam. He looks like a whole other person compared to how he was when you met. He still is his old self. But you came to love him. You and Adam lean forward, capturing yourselves in another deep, thoughtful kiss. Your wings meet, grazing each other as they close around you two. After a while of getting lost in your affection, you separate and playfully smirk.

“C’mon you whiny baby, why don’t we go downstairs to join everyone for movie night?” you suggest.

Adam groans and rolls his eyes “Us being a thing doesn’t mean that I have to participate in every fuckin’ activity of this Hotel”

“Uhh, yeah it does? I’m still in charge of forcing you to join. Now get your lazy ass off of there and let’s go”

“Okay, finee but can we have sex again after?”

“Of course we can”

“Hell yeah”

[misssilversunny]

Incel shiggy kidnaps idol reader

Or rents lookalike idol reader (and he does what he wants with her bc this is the closest hell ever get) (then gives a fat check accompanying his fat load)

God, so many thoughts… head in hands rn/pos

Couldn’t decide on which one I like more, so here’s both kinda. Part two to this. Also, I’m assuming that by lookalike, you mean a sex worker who cosplays as the reader? I hope this is to your liking!

MDNI

CW/TW: Implied Kidnapping, Shigaraki is an incel so his opinions of sex workers are Not Great, I’m very new to writing smut

Shiggy tries hiring lookalikes but they never compare to you. You’re pure, a saint- no, goddess among men. These whores simply use your likeness to make a quick buck off of filthy nobodies like him. But sometimes a toy isn’t enough.

He hires one he finds on a porn site. They’re a convincing lookalike, even going so far as to mimic your voice. Even though you don’t talk like that. She laughs at a subpar joke he made, her laugh high and shrill, closer to a shriek than your angelic voice.

He brings her home while everyone else is out or in their rooms. He’s already been flamed by Dabi for spending so much on chicks that look like you, just thinking about it pisses him off.

He drags her into the room by her arm, ignoring her whining about his grip. When they get to his room, he tosses her on the bed, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock without looking at her.

She has on a pair of themed panties with little bows on them. She says her “best friend” got them for her. They’re themed after that damn boy idol group. Specifically, the boy who’s constantly touching you or making you laugh. That little shit has no fucking right being pressed up against your cunt, themed underwear or not.

Shigaraki turns her panties to dust, kneeling down until he’s face to face with her pussy. He shoves his face in, licking her slit and plunging his tongue into her hole. He wanted to practice before the real thing. He knew that one day you would be his, and he needed to be sure that he was your best. Plus, he found that he actually enjoyed eating pussy. He knew once you two were together, he’d be buried between your thighs 24/7.

He sped up his tongue as her moans got louder, circling her clit and tapping it before going back to her soaked hole. She sounded fake at first, but soon her voice became genuine as her orgasm approached.

Shigaraki flipped her onto her back before dropping back to his knees. He showed no mercy, sucking her clit into his mouth and licking it in tighter circles as his fingers plunged inside of her. With one final suck, her thighs clamped around his head as her orgasm crashed into her.

He forces her legs apart as he lines himself up and fully sheathes himself in one harsh thrust. Her legs clamp around him as he sets an unforgiving pace. His dick has an extreme upward curve, and his position keeps hitting her g-spot without even trying.

She’s teary eyed at this point, begging him for more. He grabs her thighs and pushes them until her knees are by her ears, leaning down until their breaths were mixing.

He leans further and licks a stripe up her throat, biting just below her jaw. "Gonna breed this nasty cunt. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he says, lips pulled into a sneer.

“Yes, Ohmyfuckinggod please cum in me. I need it please oh my god oh fuck." Just another way she wasn’t you. You’d beg him to pull out. But it didn’t matter. He was too close to complain.

With a final cry into the musky air, her cunt clamps down on his cock. He groans, his hips stuttering as he presses himself flush with her hips, spurting out rope after warm, thick rope of cum into her pussy.

He stays inside for a few seconds before he pulls out, watching the globs roll out of her abused cunt. He doesn’t snap a picture, instead leaving $1,500 on the nightstand next to her before leaving to clean himself up.

He’s scrolling on his phone a little while later when he sees you’ve posted to your Twitter again. Your group is going to be returning to the city in three weeks and holding a concert the day of their return. You’re posting about how you can’t wait to be reunited with your beloved pet cat and sleep in your bed again.

Shiggy gets tickets to the concert and decides to follow the car the group came in to your house. After everyone has gotten to their homes, you are dropped off last at a fancy looking apartment. Shiggy watches you enter the building and watches the windows to see which light turns on.

You’re high up, but that doesn’t deter him.

He walks into the building, trying his best to not draw attention to himself as he climbs the stairs. He reaches your floor with great effort. He really should exercise more. He leans on the wall next to the elevator to catch his breath.

While he’s standing there, a guy in a Pizza Hut uniform walks out of the elevator, looking around.

“Hey, do you live here?” He asks, tilting his head. Shigaraki stiffens, trying to not look guilty.

“I’m trying to find room 816. Someone ordered a pizza, garlic bread, and soda. Big soda too, they must have a pretty severe sweet tooth.” He continues, trying to make small talk. Shiggy pushes himself from the wall, motioning for the man to follow. He leads him to a supply closet on the floor, pushing him inside when he hesitates. He snatches the boxes in his hand, placing it on a shelf.

“Wait, what the fuck?” The delivery man turns to Shigaraki, “Nice prank, ha-ha. Now where is Room 81-“

Shigaraki grabs the man’s neck, careful to avoid his clothes. The man’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates before shooting to Shigaraki’ wrist, desperately trying to claw his hand off like a rat in a glue trap. With a pitiful gasp, he crumbled to dust, leaving just his clothes.

Shigaraki emerged from the closet a few minutes later and approached your door, knocking. You opened the door clad in only a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized top, flashing him a smile.

“Ah! My order! Thank you! Come in and place it on the table, I’ll get the money!”

[danikamariewrites]

can i please request one where reader has a tramp stamp/ hidden tattoo ? like in one tree hill hayley has the number 23 as a tramp stamp for her man nathan, maybe something symbolic for the acotar men. maybe Truth-teller for azriel, cassians wings, rhysands name maybe? a flame for eris and a little fox for lucien?🧎‍♀️

Secret Tattoo

Acotar men x reader

A/n: they would be so turned on omg. I won’t lie I have literally thought about a tramp stamp as a joke and then I was like nnaaaahhhh that would be bad 😂

Warnings: some smut

Cassian

You always made sure to hide it from him. You got it while drunk and out with Feyre and Mor. They both got one for Rhys and Emerie too but Rhys found Feyre’s pretty quick. You and Cassian were having a heated makeout session which brought you to your bedroom. Once you were both bare Cassian flipped you on your stomach and started to take you from behind. Lost in the heat of the moment you forgot about the tattoo. Cassian finally seemed to notice and stopped thrusting. “What? What’s wrong baby?” You were worried something happened. He started laughing and tracing his finger over the tattoo. “And what do we have here?” He laughed out. You pulled off him and scrambled to lay on your back. Cass was staring at you with a shit eating grin. “A tramp stamp huh? All for me too.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes.” You spat back. “I like the wings. You got the wingspan right, nice and big. What’s in the middle?” “A red gem for your siphons.” You say shyly. Before you knew it he was back on top of you, pulling you into a bruising kiss. “Mother above baby that’s hot. You’re all mine and have the ink to prove it. Fuck.”

Rhysand

Rhys would notice while you were still asleep. You both occasionally sleep naked, especially during the summer months with the windows open. Rhys was getting ready for the day and went to give you your goodbye kiss when he saw little swirls on your lower back. Just the top poking out of the top of the covers. He slowly pulled the duvet back so he wouldn’t wake you. When the tattoo was fully revealed to him, Rhys couldn’t stop grinning. It was his name surrounded by swirls to mimic his Illyrian tattoos. Rhys was so turned on he wanted to wake you up and fuck you into the mattress until all you could say was his name. He wanted to just look at the tattoo while going in and out of you. But he decided to wait. Maybe tease you about it a little.

When you waltzed into his office later on that day Rhys smiled and acted like everything was normal. “Come sit with me darling,” he held his arms out for you and hugged you to his chest once you sat down. “How has your day been so far?” While you talked he rubbed circles over your sweater where your tattoo is hidden. Rhys snakes his hand under and lifted it a little. You didn’t jump away from him bc you didn’t want him to get suspicious. You move to leave and Rhys held the back of your sweater lifting it a little. You froze. “Well,” he drawled, “it looks even better when you’re awake.” Your jaw dropped as you spun to face him. Rhys winked at you.

Azriel

You’d try to hide it from Azriel but simply couldn’t help yourself. You had gotten Truth Teller with his shadows around it as a tramp stamp. Usually you’d need to be drunk to go anywhere near a needle, especially something permanent. But Nesta, Feyre, and Mor were all getting tattoos and you wanted one so you had to join in on the fun.

Azriel was relaxing in bed reading when you came out of the bathroom, leaning on the door frame, practically undressing him with your eyes. He stared back at you with a mischievous smirk. “Hello, my love.” “Hi Azzy.” You push off the door frame and plop yourself down on the bed in front of him crossing your legs. Azriel leans forward and starts playing with the ends of your hair. “You look like you have something to tell me love.” You giggle and nod innocently. When you turn around he’s confused. Then you lift your sleep shirt up enough for him to see. Azriel’s jaw drops when he sees it. He thinks it’s a beautiful piece of art on your body. But then something in his mind snaps. You did this because you are so in love and devoted to him. It shows him that you’re his forever. Then he goes feral. He pulls your shirt all the way off and starts whispering his dirty thoughts in your ear.

Lucien

He would find it when it’s fresh and new. Lucien could smell the ink on your back. He knew you wouldn’t tell him about it so he’d have to coax it out of you any way he could. Every time Lucien went to touch your back you’d side step away from him. He’d start to tease you about hiding something and you’d get flustered because he’s so smooth and charming your cheeks always turned pink.

Eventually he had enough and said, “I know your hiding something just show me.” You shook your head not wanting to give in. Lucien could see it when you were good and ready to show him. When he got on his knees and begged you, you gave in and turned to let him lift your shirt. “Wow.” He breathed out. “It’s beautiful, sunshine. Is it for me?” “Yes.” You say, turning to hold his jaw in your hand while the other strokes his long auburn hair. It was a fox running surrounded by wildflowers for him.

Eris

Eris not thought about a tattoo for himself or one for you. But the more he thought about it after you brought it up the hotter he thought it would be. Matching tattoos with you would be perfect. Showing that your bond is physical. More than your scents intertwined and more than that primal need for each other. When he went to go talk to you one day he smelled that your scent was a little different. The metallic scent of blood and ink embedded into your skin. “Darling, did you get a tattoo?” You looked down shyly “would you think differently of me if I did?”

“Not at all. I want to get a matching one with you.” You looked up at him with love on your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. “Can I see what you got?” You nodded and turned. “It’s on my back will you…” “oh yes,” Eris starts to untie the ribbon on the back of your dress and you shrug it off, still covering your breasts. Eris’s breath catches in his throat. He lightly traces the skin above the still sensitive ink. It was two foxes circling each other, Autumn leaves in a whirlwind surrounding them. “It’s beautiful darling.” “It’s supposed to symbolize us. And how we danced the first night we met.” Eris was speechless.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #07

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Exactly two days have passed since you and Jungkook had the whole conversation about how your plan is going to work out, settling a slightly relieved feeling in your chest. It went well, less embarrassing than you thought it'd be. But now you think about it, it wasn't embarrassing at all.

Having no actual schedule made things much more at ease and natural. Jungkook's messages popped on your screen every now and then, even during your work time which caused a muffled giggle to escape your mouth whenever he sent you one of his ridiculous memes. With no actual seeing him, it was the only sort of communication you both had.

That was until he asked about the movie night – something you used to do from time to time.

It brings a weird nostalgia, remembering all those nights you've spent watching horror movies that Jungkook insisted on watching so bad, leaving you screaming, jumping and gasping at every scene in fear. You knew some part of him did it on purpose, knowing you'd have all those reactions and he always had so much fun with that. Snickering and laughing his lungs out, even when you glared at him and smacked him, annoyed by all the teasing and mocking.

But this time, it's different. When Jungkook tells you he has a movie prepared, you thought it'd be just some stupid horror movie or something you've watched hundreds of times, but it's still fun to watch. Like Harry Potter or Fast and Furious movies. However, Jungkook's sly smirk appears on his face as soon as a naked woman appears on the screen.

It's an erotic movie, giving you Fifty Shades of Grey vibes, while Jungkook looks like he's enjoying it more than you do.

"It's a great way for you to find out what you might like." he explains after a couple of minutes, cutting off the loud moaning boosting from the speakers.

His neighbours probably think he's fucking someone here.

Apparently, it's none of his concern, when he's watching the movie with all his attention. A soft snort leaves your mouth, finding it amusing how quickly he shut up as soon as a naked woman appeared on the screen.

"Do you find her attractive?" you ask him after a while, cocking your head to the side as you observe the woman's body, before you pop some more popcorn into your mouth.

She's not ugly, but not overly pretty like they usually cast such a actress. This one looks casual, almost discreet but still holds some kind of confidence.

He mimics your previous action, munching on the salty popcorn as he studies the current scene.

"I mean... she's not ugly." he comments, although doesn't show any more effort to dive into it more.

"Her boobs are small." you say casually.

He looks at you, a grin plastered on his lips as if he finds your comment funny. "Are they?" he asks amusingly, giving you a glance before he looks back to the movie.

The conversation ends there, the confronting scene catching both of your attention as you find yourself to be invested in the actual plot. You're intrigued, because even though there are a fair amount of sex scenes, it doesn't seem to be all about sex which pleasantly surprises you. That's until the two main characters are back on screen, passionately kissing before he decides to punish her. Two minutes later, a spanking sound resounds in the living room as you watch with slightly widened eyes the scene unfolding in front of you. He slaps her naked ass, a camera catching his darkened eyes that are set on her.

It's no news that your sexual experience isn't as wide as you hope it would be. Else you wouldn't be in this kind of position – playing Jungkook's fake girlfriend in exchange for him fulfilling your secret and undiscovered desires.

Your ex never showed any interest in the whole BDSM thing and neither did you. Being called slut, bitch and having someone degrade you, has never occurred to you. It's not something you'd probably enjoy. Although, BDSM is much more than that, probably involving a lot more stuff that you can think about. But watching this movie, which revolves around it, you don't find it uncomfortable.

You're rather intrigued with the way he spanks her ass – her moans which are obviously fake and played, mixing with spanking sounds. It makes you wonder if you'd like to be spanked. The scene in front of you doesn't make you wet or horny, but the thought of someone doing that to you is still enough to spark an interest inside of you.

"What are you thinking?" Jungkook speaks up, his brows slightly pinched together just to show curiosity and confusion on his face.

You must've shown way more interest on your face than you thought, considering he noticed it. But then, Jungkook has always seen right through you.

"Nah, I was just wondering.." you trail off, focusing your eyes on the screen as you unconsciously bite onto your lower lip.

"About what?"

"I don't know. I've never been spanked before. I'm wondering if it's, y'know, my thing or something." you mutter, disappointed when the scene cuts to a different one, much less explicit.

It's quiet for a couple of seconds, your mind already set on the plot of the movie but Jungkook is the one who's staring ahead with a puzzled look. You don't notice it, not until he speaks up again.

"You wanna try it?"

Not expecting it, you almost choke on your spit, straightening yourself as you peer at him with widened eyes. Did you hear him right? Is he joking? But when you notice his neutral, or more like curious gaze, you know he's for real. A smirk curves on your lips, your body turning to Jungkook to take a better look at him.

"Are you offering to spank me, Kook?"

"I mean... yeah. I guess I am." he shrugs carelessly and you take that time to properly look at him.

He's wearing one of his usual comfy outfits consisting of loose sweatpants and black oversized shirt. You've seen him wearing it more times than his working attire, but he looks fucking good. There's no lie in that and you're sure Jeongguk is very well aware of his attractiveness.

"I'm in but what reason is there to spank me for? Me drinking your banana milk?" you snort, laughing at the way he looks offended for a second at the mention of his precious banana milk.

The tantrum he threw a few months back, the one you remember very clearly, because he made sure he gives you a proper punishment for drinking his stupid banana milk that he loves so much. It was funny, until he started to tickle you to the point there were tears running down your cheeks and you were very close to peeing yourself.

One thing Jungkook doesn't like is you laughing straight into his face, making fun of him. But you can't help it and continue to laugh at his sudden expression, jaw locked into its place as he stares at you with dark eyes. It all happens quickly, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him in a flash. His hands are rough on your skin, leaving prints on it while he makes sure he holds you securely. He bends you over his knee, the cold air hitting the back of your exposed thighs as you grab onto the first thing your hands can reach – his ankle and the edge of the couch.

Unfortunately, you chose to wear one of your pajamas shorts that you forgot here months ago, wanting to wear something more comfortable. Plus, Jungkook's air conditioning is broken, so it's hotter inside than usual. It all makes it even more awkward in this situation. He has seen you in your towel before, but this time it's different. Almost all of your ass is exposed to his dark eyes and you're about to look at him, slowly lifting up yourself just to be pushed back. His knee digs into your lower stomach but you don't mind it that much.

"I'm sick of you making fun of me." he spits, palming your ass through the cotton material of your shorts that makes your breath hitch.

Fuck. Since when are his hands so comfortable?

You're not sure whether he talks about the mention of banana milk or that you've laughed into his face again – but you can't focus on that for too long, not when his hand feels so good against your ass.

Nobody has ever been so rough with you and he barely did anything. Still, it's enough to make your heart jump every time he swiftly moves his hand. Has he ever done this before?

"I'm sorry." you speak up, not recognizing your voice at all. It's so fragile, flattering into the space of your living room. It doesn't sound like you at all.

"Are you?" he dryly chuckles, scoffing right after as he squeezes your ass cheek.

God, it feels so good. He barely started and you already feel yourself getting wet. No, you're wet.

"Oh, bunny, you're about to be sorry."

This is not the Jeon Jungkook that you know. He's showing you a whole new side of him. His voice is dark, filled with dominance and lust, leaving you breathless.

A shiver runs down your spine, anticipating every move he makes with his big hand as he keeps palming the soft flesh of your ass. He plays with the hem of your shorts, before he asks you if he can take it down. Automatically a 'yes' jumps out of you, his amused chuckle following right after as you hide your flush cheeks. Thank God, he can't see you right now.

He doesn't take them entirely, enough to expose your perky ass cheeks to him. You hear him silently curse, admiring your untouched ass that's about to be spanked. He can perfectly picture his red hand prints all over it and it takes him a minute to shake out of his daze. Out of nowhere, he spanks your ass, not too hard though. You can barely register it, but it's enough to make your heart jump from the sudden contact. You understand that he only tested the waters, silently watching your reaction.

But when you shift yourself, pushing your ass up, it's all he needs. It's a silent plea for him to continue, so he doesn't waste any time asking you since you patiently wait for his next move.

"If you wanna stop, just tell me," he speaks up, his tone gentle all of a sudden causing the corner of your mouth to twitch in amusement.

Leaning up, you turn around your head just enough to look at him, tilting your brow. "Okay, bunny."

You just wanted to tease him, using his own choice of words or more accurately the pet name he gave you, but it turns out it wasn't a good idea. Before you can properly lean back, your back arches as soon as his hand is met with your ass cheek, slapping your flesh out of nowhere. The smack sound rings in your ears as you shut your eyes automatically, a surprise gasp leaving your mouth.

"I wish I could ruin you for that smart mouth of yours," he says through his gritted teeth, palming your ass before he smacks the other cheek with the same intensity.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he got you wet. The wetness between your legs causes you to rub your thighs together. It could be mistaken as your reaction to cope with the new feeling, but it's a completely different story. You're rubbing your thighs together to release some of the build up lust in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. If he knows what you're doing, he doesn't voice it out.

"Ruin me, Kook." you whisper, so silent that you think he didn't hear you, but he did when his next words are like the next wave that's splashing you in the face.

"Oh, I will," It's not a comment, it's a promise. "I want you to count every spank I give you." he demands, his voice shifting to an even darker one and you wonder if he's just getting into some character or this is his persona in bed.

If he's usually like this in bed, you envy every girl that gets to fuck him and experience it.

"Okay." you speak up, knowing he's waiting for your answer.

He's not wasting a second, a palm meeting your clothed skin in a quick movement, not too harsh but enough to let you a surprised squeal. He palms your eyes right after, caressing the thin material as you hear your heart beating in your eardrums. You're surprised by the new feeling, complementing whether you like it or not. You need more to decide on that.

"Count, Y/N." Jungkook says through clenched teeth, reminding you of his rules that completely blew out of your mind.

"One." you cough, hiding your surprising soft voice.

It's clear, even to your inexperienced self, that he's going easy on you. His voice might be rough, showing his dominance over you, but his soft touch that makes sure to caress your attacked ass says otherwise.

"Good girl." he praises, causing a cheeky grin to appear on your lips in an instant, feeling some kind of pride over his praise.

But your grin is wiped off as soon as he slaps you again, this time focusing on the other ass cheek with more intensity, causing you to squirm in spot. This time, any sound that's about to come out of your mouth is muffled by your lips, teeth securely biting into your lower lip.

He repeats the caressing part, which helps the slight stinging feeling on your ass, although you know he's restraining himself. He makes sure he goes gradually and slowly, silently watching your reactions.

It makes you think he had probably done this before, the way he acts surely doesn't look like someone who doesn't know what he's doing. You kind of suspected that he's not boring and sex with him is a different kind of adventure, by the amount of girlfriends he had. But of course, that doesn't mean anything. Maybe his charms and attractiveness helped — but now you know that your suspicion was right.

Rather than to say it's weird, it's new for you to see this kind of side of him. Yes, Jungkook has always held some kind of dominance but he still remained this cute guy who'd pout and laugh in the cutest way. It's new, and you like it.

"Y/N..." he growls, reminding you of your task as you take your time to count for him.

"Two." you say much more stable, licking your lips in anticipation before another slap is delivered onto your lips.

Each slap gets more intense, stinging your skin even more to the point that you squirm on his lap. But every time, a number of the slap always resounds from you, not telling him to stop. It's not enough to get you off, but enough to make your panties stick to your heat, enjoying how wet you've become with each slap. You should be embarrassed when soft gasps of pleasure blend with the movie that is still on, but you could care less. Your mind is purely focused on Jungkook's hand, meeting your now exposed flesh, since he hiked up your shorts.

Skin on skin contact is even better, his soft skin and gentle circles that he massages to your skin leaves you breathless. You crave for him, the burn between your legs almost unbearable as you whimper, silently hoping Jungkook would touch you elsewhere.

"You like that, bunny, huh." he chuckles, his usual light and teasing tone gone and swapped with darkness and mocking.

Oh, you do. Much more than you've ever imagined.

"Answer me," he says, blowing another slap to your ass that makes you flinch in surprise. "You like me spanking your little ass?" he muses, a finger tracing a gentle line across his red handprint that you can't see but surely feel.

You shudder, gulping before you open your mouth. "Yes."

A low hum comes out of him, pinching your reddened skin that makes you whimper. It hurts, but when the pain slowly goes away you feel yourself clenching your thighs together, perking your ass for him.

"I told you to count," he reminds you, pinching your other cheek. "So needy." he comments under his breath, probably more to himself than to you, eyeing your perked ass.

"Nine." you count, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Last one, bunny. Get ready."

He barely finished saying it, his hand slapping over his handprint again. This one is the most intense one, causing you to loudly gasp before a shameless moan erupts in your throat. He massages your ass, blowing some air onto it that makes goosebumps appear on your skin. He gives you a few seconds, taking in your quickened breathing that gradually slows down before he slowly pulls you up.

Your cheeks are red, pupils blown out from what has just happened.

It was fucking good. So good that you wished he'd touch you again, taking care of that burn in the pit of your stomach and between your legs. You've never been turned on from this kind of thing and looking at Jungkook, just wants you to sit on his lap and repeat that time when you made cum each other.

But you stay put, taking in his dark eyes and a few strands of his raven hair covering them, before he moves them away. A slow, but clear smirk stretches onto his lips and you know your best friend is back. 

"You surely liked that." he teases you, wiggling his brows that make you roll your eyes at him.

"Pff, it wasn't that good. Don't flatter yourself." you scoff, knowing he has another thing added to his teasing list.

He's such a brat.

"Hmm, I think your soaked shorts says otherwise." he muses, eyes averting between your legs that makes you react right away, looking there for yourself.

A wet patch soaked through your panties and shorts is visible, your legs automatically closing but it's too late. He has seen it and pointed that out.

He's right. You surely liked that.

His smug smirk makes you annoyed, rolling your eyes at him once more as you quickly sit back, eyes averted to the screen.

What a brat.

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight: Part 7 - Paint It, Black

📜Life is messy. And complicated. And writer blocky, with a dash of imposter syndrome... I just want to put that out there... Anyway...

Well, the poll won out. You all want to know what Jake said to Midge. This is solely a flashback chapter. I can't say I'm surprised at who you all disliked in the last chapter, though I hope this one will give you some insight into why Midge has held on to this for as long as she has.

Special thank you to @teacupsandtopgun for helping me to write a certain part of this! You can thank her for the puns! And @sarahsmi13s for taking a peak at it!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, flashbacks, Halloween college parties, school, angst, sexual themes (overhearing), drunkness/inxotication. I mentioned angst, right? 💀

#8k <- yes, i know

Part 6 | Masterlist | Part 8

*Halloween Four Years Ago*

Giving orders to a football team to put up Halloween directions was not an easy feat. They were kids in a joke shop, only too happy to take every opportunity to jump-scare each other with a spider, a white sheet or slide out from behind a door and shout boo! 

Despite the antics, you were grateful for the help. Nat and you wouldn’t have finished in time. And even then, you suspected Nat probably would have given up halfway through, merely deciding to throw Yellow Caution Tape on the walls and call it a day. 

You wouldn’t have stopped - even if it became a doomed effort. 

Bradley’s friends weren’t what you expected them to be. True, their appearance fit the bill a thousand times over. Tall, broad shoulders and bulging muscles were all the product of hard work - including Bob, who was smaller than the rest, though not by much.  Even their mannerisms, from how they acted childish and goofy to how they winked or playfully flirted, everything you saw played into the stereotypical type that was the classic college football jock. 

Then you got to know them—really know them—and hated yourself for ever associating them as such. 

You already knew Bradley and had met him on occasion. When he stayed over to be with Nat, he was often up before you, and you’d chat with him over a cup of coffee. He always brought her a cup to wake her up when he could, and it always made you smile. 

His story was a sad one. His father passed away when he was only two years old, leaving his mom to raise him alone. While he couldn’t regale you with his memories of him, he instead offered you the stories attached to his father’s things: a button-up Hawaiian shirt in pale pastels, a pair of coffee-brown Ray Ban sunglasses, and even a worn Milk chocolate leather-strapped bag he used to lug his books around campus. 

Then, his mom passed away in high school, and his father’s best friend took him up until the point decided to leave for school. Bradley chose his words carefully when he spoke of any of them, offering little, and you wondered if the loss was still too much for him to bear. 

Or something else had happened, and he didn’t want anyone to know. 

 But as you helped him blow up a few balloons for the floor, a song from a later decade played through the speakers, and Bradley lit up, producing a smile wider than the nearby Jack-o-lantern. He launched into a story about how much his parents loved music and how his father would play the piano, which alone made him want to learn. 

You asked him if and when he did if he’d play for you one day.

Javy Machado, however, couldn’t be more different from Bradley if he tried.

He was just as meticulous as you when it came to detail. The two of you were discussing the best way to tape Velcro to the kitchen cupboards to stick fluff to the sides and mimic cobwebs when you discovered this fact. He was … quietly smooth and persuasive, with a suave smile that indicated he could charm his way into or out of any situation he wanted without needing to flirt or play it thick. 

“Angle it like this, Maeve,” he had explained, stretching the piece out. “Principle of maximum contact area equals maximum adhesive stretch.” 

You had raised your eyebrows at that remark, which prompted him to chuckle softly. 

"Science major," he shrugged with that smile, making your internal monologue stutter to a halt until you went, "Wait... What?!" 

He only laughed at your reaction, amused in a way like he’d been expecting it. But it was that look of genuine interest in his eyes that made you ask him properly. 

He didn't know what field of science to specialize in, but Javy made all of it sound amazing. From stars to not dirt—it's soil—to understanding how the world worked, he knew he wanted to spend his life trying to figure it all out. If he could throw a ball around and be part of a team with his friends, he considered himself fortunate to do both. 

Even if his passion was so far removed from your own, you may have seen some of yourself in his journey, trying to fit in while doing what you loved most. 

Holding up a string of lights against the wall, Reuben Flitch told you he was floating through school, waiting for the day he could finally be free. On that day, he’d take over his family’s business. Comparing him to the fractured story of your brother and sister following in your parent’s footsteps never seemed to cross your mind. 

Because when you asked what the business was, his face lit up with an enthusiasm you hadn’t expected. 

“My grandparents own vineyards," he had beamed. "They've been in the family for generations. I've grown up with the land, the grapes, and the entire winemaking process." 

He told you stories of growing up, playing through the vines and rows of trellises, making you long for the rows of apple trees at Aunt Viv's. He also talked about spending time with his grandfather, learning the process of pressing grapes and his grandmother tending and picking the grapes. He spoke about the people, everyone from the gardeners to the people who bottled the wine to his siblings, with whom he'd played hide-and-seek within the cellars. 

He told you a business major was worth it, as much as he loathed it, if he could own the place one day.  

You hoped he did. 

But Mickey Garica and Bob Floyd were... characters, to say the least. It was easy to talk with them, even laugh with them, as the three of you spread tiny black spiders all over the apartment. 

Mickey couldn’t stop asking if you could paint him one day, though you imagined it would be fandom-inspired rather than a realistic portrait. The second you asked him about his favourite universe, he launched into a word vomit of praise for each and every one. He spoke of Lord of the Rings, Marvel, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Batman—not DC—as the character deserved to be separated from the rest. 

It made you wonder if the one portrait would be enough. Still, you happily humoured him, saying you needed the practice. 

He was in Health Sciences, hoping it would be enough to get his foot in the door to become a firefighter. He talked about it so passionately, about being capable of making a difference and saving lives, that you honestly couldn’t see him in any other role. 

And given the opportunity, Bob was so full of sass and witty comebacks to the ones you managed to throw his way, you were surprised he was seeking an Anthropology and Archaeology degree. He seemed to have a natural talent for what Comedians had labelled “crowd work.” You honestly would have taken him for a drama major had he not told you differently.

However, once he explained his choice, you understood why. Growing up, having been a Boy Scout, learning about nature, rocks, and life. He wanted to know more about life, history, and how things were. 

A visit to an archeological dig site in high school sold it for him. His eyes lit up when he spoke about ancient civilizations, lost artifacts, and all the mysteries surrounding human evolution. He rattled off facts about Neanderthals and cave paintings, which had you urging him for more. 

He happily obliged and was encouraging when you offered a few that you knew of. 

All of them were so passionate about what they wanted to do with their lives, even Bradley, who wanted to pursue football seriously as a career; you admired all of them for it with your entire heart. 

But Jake Seresin was... you didn’t know. Nor did he, it seemed. 

Jake was there at your side every time you went back up that ladder, claiming someone needed to catch you should you fall again. You had rolled your eyes, a slight smirk gracing your face, but you let him all the same. 

He wasn’t as open as the others, wanting to flirt with you more than anything else. Somehow, you managed to get him talking about football, and when you asked him why he played, he admitted that his father had gone and played at the school. He had been urged to apply, and his family would support him throughout his entire ride. 

“Family money,” he said, his tone light when you gawked at him. You didn’t ask what his parents did, but knowing he came from a rich family, you wondered if he didn't want people to know. You certainly didn't. Nat didn’t know, at least not yet. 

It prompted him to add his parents weren’t pressuring him into one career or another; they simply wanted him to keep up with the sport. So, he was buying time and taking electives, trying to figure it out, though he would have to make a decision soon. 

And it made you wonder, under that confidence, under that layer of charm and ease on his surface, if he was searching for what everyone else in the group had already found. While everyone else didn’t fit the stereotype, you wondered if Jake was attempting to mould himself into it. 

How you wished to tell him, he didn’t have to. 

But Jake wasn’t a painting you could tear apart or theorize about. And as you pinned that last streamer to the ceiling, you realized over the course of the afternoon, you’d unwittingly developed a bit of a crush on him. 

You weren’t stupid. You recognized the signs the second he caught you off that ladder. The second he handed you that shot. He was laying on the charm, the flirty glances, the playful smiles. Even the slight touches on your waist as you leaned back, pining streamers to the ceiling, were waving the red flags in your head. 

Jake was either genuinely interested or actively looking for someone to hook up with tonight. 

It wouldn’t be you, that’s for sure—not even for someone so charming and handsome as Jake Seresin. 

In the last two hours, the guys took turns getting ready first while everyone else finished with the final touches. They wanted you and Natasha to go first, but you vehemently refused, knowing they’d ruin hours of hard work if left unsupervised. 

You also wanted to see this through to the end, but you kept that to yourself. You had revealed enough of your quirky, artsy side to them. You did not need to add to it by gushing over the decorations or how the entire apartment turned out, possibly damaging whatever relationship you'd established so far. 

People were weird when it came to shit like that. 

Jake and Bradley emerged from Nat’s bedroom just as the two of you were headed toward yours. The hallway was already lit in a deep red from the lights now neatly strung up in the corners of the ceiling. Though the sun was beginning to set, shining warm light through your window, you knew the total effect would be entirely eerie when night rolled around. You couldn’t wait to see it.

Bradley was dressed as Indiana Jones: a white shirt, a brown leather jacket, and a fake whip at his side. His outfit was complementary to Nat's Marion Ravenwood, her costume the classic white dress from the first movie you spent a while making. Though she did ask you to take some creative liberties with the design, the dress was more risque than necessary. 

The only thing remotely movie-accurate about it would be the puffy sleeves.

You couldn't help but whistle when Jake stepped out from behind Bradley. Instantly perking up at the noise, he let out a sly smirk and straightened the lapels of his deep black leather jacket. 

"Danny Zuko, huh?" you laughed softly. "Guess you've got the whole 'bad boy' vibe down." 

Jake smirked at you, copying one of the iconic character's signature moves by sliding his hands into his black leather jacket pockets as he strode by. "Only missing my Sandy. You wouldn't happen to know where I could find one, would you?" 

You coyly peered at him over your shoulder as you continued down the hall. Unknown to either of you, Nat and Bradley had stopped to watch the interaction, filled to the brim with curiosity. 

"Wouldn't know. I'm more of a Rizzo myself. Too much sass and not enough patience for leather pants." 

"To get into them or to get out?"

With a glimmer in your eyes and a smirk on your lips, you pivoted to face Jake completely, still walking backwards. “You're quite the smooth talker, aren’t you?” 

Jake shrugged, giving off the vibe of, ‘I can’t help my reputation.’ However, you could see the easy grin on his face, and one side of his mouth crooked upwards, making him appear boyish—just like the character he was dressed up as. 

It made your heart flutter inside your chest. 

“It’s a shame I’m more into the rough-around-the-edges type,” you teased softly, pausing by the corner. 

Liar. Oh, you horrible liar. 

Jake’s grin didn’t disappear when you saw him press his tongue to the inside of his cheek, arching an eyebrow. Instead, it turned into a knowing smirk.

“Is that so?” he teased.

You flushed, at a loss for words. Jake's teasing gaze lingered, and the lift in the corner of his mouth suggested he saw right through your lie. Your cheeks burned hot. 

Jake's chuckle echoed softly down the hallway as you made your escape, somehow making your heart race faster. You didn't dare look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you turned the corner and down the hallway to your bedroom.

As Jake retreated back into the apartment, Bradley coughed lightly. He exchanged a knowing look with Nat, who had been watching your retreat. He jutted his head once toward you, and Nat replied in kind with a single tilt of her head toward Jake. 

They didn’t need to say aloud what they were thinking. They’d talk about what they discovered later, but it wouldn’t stop them from pressing this interesting development further. 

When she reached your room, Nat found you already in your robe, sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair. You had already laid out your costumes on your bed earlier in the day, and Nat raced to hers the second she saw it, making grabby hands at the fabric. 

"Ahh, it turned out so great, Maeve!" she exclaimed, grabbing the top and holding it up. You glimpsed at her through the reflection of your mirror, smiling when she hugged it to her chest.

“If I had made it any deeper, Nat, you’d be showing off more than just dangly bits.” 

She blew a raspberry at you. You giggled, shaking your head.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to do couples costumes. I never thought Bradley would go for it,” she said after a while, standing next to you and straightening her hair in the mirror of your vanity.

“Really?” you asked, concentrating on not poking your eye out with your mascara. 

“How else am I going to shoo off all the girls practically clamouring to get with Bradley? It’s a nice way to do it, don’t you think?” 

“Maybe. Not every costume as a twin, though,” you said, lowering your hand to gesture to yourself. You hoped Nat would at least acknowledge the effort you’d made or pep you up for a party you'd originally never wanted to hold. 

“What about the Danny wandering around the apartment ‘without his Sandy’?”

You dropped your hand from where you had started fixing up your other eye, glaring at her reflection in your mirror. “Really, Nat?” 

“What, you don’t dream of a little Summer Lovin?” 

You felt your face flush. As if Jake would ever really go for someone like you. “It’s Halloween, Nat.” 

“Exactly. It’s Halloween, and it’s getting colder. Maybe you’ve got chills, and maybe they're multiplying.” 

You groaned, dropping your head and smacking it against your vanity. 

“You’re sure he’s not the one you want?” she bumped you with her hip, grinning.

“Can you stop with the Grease puns? Please,” you squawked. 

Nat laughed, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she stepped away. "Okay, okay. But if you change your mind, I think Danny Zuko out there wouldn't mind being 'the one that you want.'"

Fingers wrapping around the handle of your hair brush, you didn’t lift your head from the vanity as you chucked it in Nat’s direction. She laughed hard, and you didn’t need to look to know you had missed her completely. 

Nat eventually cajoled you into helping her slip into her dress, adjusting bits and pieces of fabric here and there. You sat back down at your vanity as she twirled once in the mirror, declaring she was satisfied. Then her eyes went to the door, and her attention shifted to Bradley and what waited beyond it. 

"Are you okay if I go out? Do you need any help?" Nat's voice was laced with excitement, and her eyes gleamed with anticipation of finally having a party as she smoothed down the sides of her dress.  

You shook your head, leaning back in your chair. Nat didn’t meet your gaze. "No, I'm good. I only need to touch up my makeup, and my dress is a slip-on," you smiled. "Go make sure Bradley keeps his hat on." 

Nat wiggled her shoulders, biting her lip to mute her squealing giggle. The puffy sleeves of her short dress waved with her, and she precariously tip-toed out the door on her high heels. Once in the hallway, she dramatically yelled, "Come and get me, Indiana Jones!" 

You stifled a giggle, shaking your head, allowing yourself to turn back to face your mirror.

Staring at yourself, you searched every part of your face, making sure your foundation, blush, eyes, and lips were just how you wanted them to be. You toyed with a strand of curled hair, wondering if what you had done was enough—if all of it had been enough. 

Then your eyes came to rest on your costume, so carefully draped across the end of your bed through the reflection in the mirror. 

You're not sure why "Flaming June" happened to be your favourite painting, though you supposed it had to do with the girl in the painting so casually draped across that seat next to that fountain. She was curled up almost like a serpent, covered in sheer transparent vibrant orange, the painting's only bright pop of colour.

The painting was supposedly meant to depict nymphs, sleeping Greek nymphs for that matter, or even Victorian society's obsession with beauty. However, you argued differently in the paper you wrote for it.

You cared more about the juxtaposition of fire and tranquillity in the piece than about whatever cultural influence or social construct it had at the time. That one girl was at the centre of the painting, wrapped in sheer, see-through colour. She was meant to be the focus; that much was certain. 

Maybe you thought her dress signified the chaos of the world around her, and all she wanted to do was find a moment of peace. 

You’d spent countless hours at the fabric store trying to match the correct shade. Once you had completed parts of Nat's, you spent even countless more at your sewing machine, staying up late to make progress on yours. 

And each time she asked you to make alternations on hers, the more drastic you made it to be ‘just that much sluttier', the more you thought about what you could do to yours. In the end, the thin straps holding up your dress, revealing bare shoulders and the long slit between your breasts, ending just before your belly button, was all you could stomach. 

You held the dress up, contemplating your thoughts. You could do this. You could survive one simple Halloween party - one simple college rager party. 

Right?

———

The second the apartment was starting to flood with arriving guests, Jake realized you hadn’t emerged from your room with Nat.

He had been off to the side near a bookcase, talking with Bradley, hoping to stave off the crowd and the rest of the football team for a little longer. He knew they'd want to talk football and strategies for the season, and Jake simply... didn't. 

He wanted a night off. He wanted to relax and have a good time. And talking about football wouldn't be it. 

Bradley had said something to Jake, but he hadn’t been paying attention. He was too busy searching the gathering pods of people for your face. Why, he didn’t know. But he was eager to find out. 

Bradley snapped his fingers in Jake's face, startling him from his search. "Earth to Jake!" 

Jake shook his head, focusing back on Bradley. "Sorry, what?" 

Bradley raised his eyebrows under the rim of his fedora. "What's going on in that head of yours?" 

Jake regarded him for a few seconds before finally looking down at his drink, bringing it to his lips, admitting, "I'm just looking for Maeve." 

As Jake took a drink, Bradley grinned. "She's probably still getting ready. Nat said her costume was based on her favourite panting." 

Jake didn't even look up from his drink when he asked, "What's her favourite painting?" 

"Why? You looking to make a good impression?" he said, still grinning. 

"Fuck off, Man," Jake snapped, taking another swig to finish his drink. Bradley only laughed, now shaking his head. He would have let Jake simmer in his ask, but this was you. He had to give Jake at least a decent running chance. 

"It's Flaming June, the chick in the orange dress. It's a brilliant costume idea. She made it herself." 

Of course, you would have made it yourself, Jake thought. 

"Surely you came across that painting with your 'rich upbringing.' Nat was practically force-feeding information down our throats a few seconds ago to ensure we recognized her costume. It’s some Freddie Luigui piece. I don't know." 

"I know it," Jake snapped. "I've seen it before." 

Jake was pretty sure he had, maybe once at one of his father's fundraising parties, though he actively searched his mind, trying to remember what it looked like. 

Bradley remained silent, slouching against the bookcase and crossing one leg over the other. He narrowed his eyes at his friend and tilted his head. 

"Why the sudden interest in Maeve? She isn't one for..." Bradley trailed off, searching for the correct word. Just as Jake was about to ask him what he meant, Nat's approaching heels on the hardwood floor stopped them both. 

She stopped at Bradley's side, red solo cup in hand, looping her arm through his. "What are you two handsome boys gossiping about over here?" she giggled at her boyfriend, her chin plopping lazily down onto his bicep. "See any snakes in the crowd, Indy?" 

Bradley pulled his face back into a grimace, reciting the famous line. "Snakes. Why does it always have to be snakes?" 

Jake rolled his eyes at their banter, placing his empty cup on the table between them. Nat giggled, tilting her head back, indicating to Bradley she wanted to be kissed. He complied without protest, leaning down, pressing his lips to hers in an overly dramatic display merely to piss Jake off. 

"Get a room," Jake groaned, mocking a wrenching noise. The couple separated, turning to Jake with amused smirks. "You've heard and seen far worse, dude." 

Jake shuttered, the unwanted memory of walking in on Nat and Bradley from weeks ago flashing through his mind. Sharing an apartment with Bradley had its moments - some good, some decidedly less so. It made him wonder if Maeve had to put up with the same shit he did. 

“Where’s Maeve?” Jake asked Nat, ignoring Bradley's remark. "I haven't seen her yet."

Nat opened her mouth, about to tell him you were still getting ready, when she caught sight of a flash of orange stepping out from behind the corner of the hallway. You came into view, your head angled down, mindful of stepping on your dress as thin streams of transparent fabric trailed behind you at your sides. 

Javy let out a low-toned whistle from somewhere in the room, and heads turned, one by one, as you took your final step into the apartment. 

“Damn girl, you clean up nice!” 

Lifting your head, you were surprised to see eyes on you. Javy glided forward to greet you from where he had been standing at a nearby table, and you smiled at him, though a little weary. Deep down, you knew his comment was meant to be a compliment. But something coarse, like sandpaper, rubbed against your heart at the remark, lingering longer than you would have liked. 

“What? Not bad for a fine arts major?” you joked somewhat deprecatively, though your voice held none of it. 

Javy held out his hand, and you grabbed it, allowing him to lift it above your head. With a pump of his wrist, he urged you to spin under his arm several times, letting your dress fan out. You giggled as he urged you, though you wobbled on your heels. The dreaded things were Nat's only contribution to your outfit, and you were severely regretting it. 

He let you go, thinking you had your footing on the last, slowed spin. But when you came to a stop, you were on the verge of falling over, your head dizzy, and your legs unbalanced. 

To his credit, Javy tried to reach out and steady you, already regretting the step he took back. However, before he could, another pair of hands, one on your hip and one taking your hand, steadied you. 

Jake’s hands were firm on your skin, pulling you close as you lost your balance. You fell into his chest, head tilted back, half falling over. And looking up at his face, seeing the amused grin on his lip, you drew in a sharp breath at the sight. 

"Letting me make a good first impression?" he quipped.

“By catching falling women?” you laughed breathlessly, bringing your free hand to his chest. If you had let your hand stall slightly longer than necessary, you would have never admitted to it.

“Seems noble enough,” he replied, helping you to stand. Though he might have let go of your hand, he didn’t let go of your waist. “Or do you make it a habit to test the reflexes of every guy you meet?”

You couldn’t resist the playful jab. “Only the ones who seem like they can handle it. And the pretty ones.”

Jake's grin widened, and he even risked sneaking a quick peek at your lips, letting them rest there for a few seconds before his eyes roamed the rest of your body.

"Flaming June, right? Frederic Leighton's Masterpiece."

You blinked in surprise, letting out a small gasp. You honestly expected to tell people what your costume was, not just some girl in some random orange dress. Jake's knowledge of the painting, let alone his identification of it so quickly, was scoring him some major brownie points. 

"You know your art," you commented nonchalantly.

He shrugged, "I might know a thing or two. I always had a thing for the classics. By the way, it suits you." 

You practically preened under his gaze. "Thank you," you said, a shy smile creeping onto your face. He beamed at you in return. 

Yes, you might have a crush on him. But for the first time that day, you figured it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

—- 

This was a bad idea - Oh, this party was such a bad idea.

Believing you were having a good time and actually having a good time were two separate things. You certainly felt one of those things. As the night went on, and with each drink you tipped back, alcoholic or not, regret built in your stomach. 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Maybe you were seeking reasons where there initially were none, allowing Natasha’s suggestions to slowly chip away at your resolve until you finally gave in. Maybe it was the promise of letting loose, to embrace the spirit of Halloween with all its creative potential.  

Maybe it was the promise of making new friends. Of getting to know people outside the art department. Natasha had told you to mingle. She wanted you to mingle, and yet... you didn’t know where to start. 

You didn't expect Nat or Bradley to coddle you, but they could have introduced you to a few people besides the core group before things had gotten this bad. You didn't dare approach Javy or Rueben, who played beer pong and chugged beers back like it was nobody's business. They were off doing their own thing, and you didn’t want to intrude. 

 Mickey and Bob had gone home earlier in the night. Bob proclaimed he had a midterm to study for, and Mickey wanted to go home anyway so he could call his family in peace. You strongly suspected he wanted to watch Halloween movies instead.

Rocky Horror sounded like a wonderful idea right about now. 

You couldn’t hang around Nat and Bradley all night, either. And nobody from your art classes would even dare set foot inside a party where nearly half of its guests were from the sororities.

You knew that. While you did extend the invitation, you told them you wouldn't blame them if they didn't come. They had looked at you with such disregard you wondered if they were seeing you through newly polished rose-coloured glasses. And standing up against the wall next to your bookcase, like an insipid wallflower, you could hardly blame them for it either. 

You couldn’t introduce yourself in a place where you were the outsider, even within the walls of your own home. Soon after the first few attempts, that realization settled deep into your chest. And you couldn’t help but feel like you had done this to yourself -  an attempt to be part of something like this, even if just for a night.

But Jake… Jake was still here. At least, he should be. He had been by your side for the beginning of the evening, talking to you about what projects you were currently working on over another drink—not whiskey—after you had started to hiccup while putting up decorations. 

After he recognized your dress, you weren’t ashamed to tell him. You had launched into the ideas and thoughts behind two paintings and one sculpture, an old table that you were trying to turn into an elemental-type sundial. You told him about the zodiac signs you had already burned into the wood after sanding it down and how each was placed in its own little section as it related to its element. 

You had reached halfway through your thought process when you realized how lost you were in your explanation. You froze mid-sentence, blushing harder than the colour of your dress. 

"Sorry," you had said. "I ramble when I get excited about my art.” 

But Jake’s interest hadn’t waned. If anything, it urged him to ask, “How did you find something you're so passionate about? Creating things... making art?"

His question had made you pause, though not over what to say but merely how to say it. “It was my voice when words fell short or my escape when the world grew too loud.” 

You caught a glimpse of something in Jake’s eyes—a flash of longing, a momentary crack in his confident demeanour. What followed was a slight nod. It was there, and then it wasn’t, as if he’d accidentally revealed more of himself than he wanted. Then he caught himself, suddenly straightened his spine, and continued the conversation as if that brief lapse in judgment never happened in the first place. 

Ten minutes later, he excused himself to get another drink. And you hadn’t seen him since. 

You scanned the room for him, hoping to spot that black leather jacket among the sea of people. But it was impossible. Under the dim, eerie glow of the lights, each costume blurred into the next, and the crowd swallowed any hope of finding him.

Reaching for whatever mixed drink Nat had made you earlier off the table, you pushed yourself off the wall, weaving through the throngs of people, figuring you might as well try to see if she knew where he had run off to. 

Liquid sloshed over the rim of your cup onto your hand as you dodged a zombie here, a fairy there, and music pulsing like a heartbeat through the packed room. Laughter and snippets of conversations swirled around you as you scanned the sea of faces, both masked and not for Nat. 

Glasses clinked, a witch cackled, and the scent of spiced pumpkin mingled somewhere in the mix with the tang of alcohol and body sweat. By the time you spotted her leaning heavily against the kitchen Island, red cup in hand and her laughter too loud, eyes slightly unfocused, you knew the night had taken its toll on her sobriety. 

She was too preoccupied with telling a bunch of people a story to notice how you quickly launched the contents of your cup into the sink behind her. You extended your arm when you were close enough, looping your arm around her waist. Her arm came up at the same time, sliding across your back to pull you close. 

Nat tilted her head back onto her shoulders, glancing at you with happy eyes. "Maeve!" she whined tipsily. 

Given how far gone she was, you were surprised at how accurately she pronounced your name. She bent slightly, still holding her red Solo cup in her hand, to hug you tight, her face smooshing into your neck.

“It looks like you’re having the time of your life,” you snorted. She nodded against your skin, biting her lip in a smile with a happy, drunken snigger. She lazily pulled back to meet your eye, and you smiled at her. 

“Have you seen Jake around?” 

Nat paused, her gaze flickering around the room as if she'd genuinely forgotten about him, though she didn’t lift her head off your body. "Jake? Oh, I haven't seen him in a bit,” she slurred slightly. “Why? Do you two likeeeeeeeeeeeeeee each other? Is Jake going to make you scream grease lightin’?” 

You reached for her red Solo cup and pried it from her hand. “Okay, yup, you're cut off.” 

“Nooo,” she pouted her arm a dead weight as she tried to take it back. Her hand hit the bottom of the cup, and liquid shot up, once again covering your hand in whatever type of alcohol Nat managed to mix together. You could only sigh. 

“Here comes the fun police,” she muttered under her breath. “I thought you’d be off doing your own thing.” 

Well, that fucking stung just a tiny bit. 

“I’m not going to be the one who cleans up your vomit tomorrow morning, Nat.” 

“I’ve only had,” she held up her hand, widening her thumb and pointer finger probably further apart than she thought, “this much to drink.” 

“Ahm...”  

Luckily for you, Bradley appeared, having seen what was going on. He looked amused yet concerned as he slid between the gap of the island and Nat to observe his girlfriend babbling nonsense on your shoulder. “What’s happening here?”

Nat made another grab for her cup, but Bradley gently intercepted her, taking her hand into his before she could even grasp it. 

“That,” you offered. 

 “I think it’s time we get you to bed, love,” he suggested, wrapping an arm around her waist. You let him take her, happy for him to bear her weight. 

Nat leaned into him, mumbling something incoherent, a mix of protest and agreement. Bradley spared a glance at you, silently thanking you in your unspoken agreement. You nodded, watching as he sandwiched her to his side and carried her off towards her room. 

It always seemed like one of you was always taking care of her. At one point or another. 

After getting rid of Nat’s cup, you felt the sticky residue of both of your spilled drinks on your skin and felt the urge to run to the privacy of the bathroom to wash it off. Stumbling down the hallway, blusters on your feet finally making themselves known, you let your hands casually slide along the wall. The music from the party faded into a muffled, dull noise as you walked. 

You wanted to smile at the lights. The red eerie glow along the top corners of the ceiling only reached not even halfway down the wall, plunging the floor into a dark abyss. You clumsily stuttered through it, unable to see anything below your waist.

It was exactly as you pictured it, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to manage the slightest grin. 

The bathroom door was down at the end of the hall slightly ajar, with the red LED light illuminating its edges from behind. You zoned in on it like a wobbly arrow to a target, tired and completely done with tonight and everything about it.

You reached for the curved handle, about to push the door open, when a high-pitched giggle came from behind the piece of wood. You shot your hand back like you had been burned, and with a quick turn of your heel, you plastered your back up against the wall. 

You immediately knew what was happening behind that door, and it made you throw up in your mouth just a little. 

Ugh, I’m going to have to disinfect the hell out of that bathroom tomorrow. 

The next voice you heard, however, made your heart drop into your stomach. 

“You like that, don’t ya, sweetheart?”

You didn't want to believe it, but you had to see for yourself. Leaning forward off the wall, you peered through the crack in the door, only to spot a black leather jacket taking up most of your view—the same black jacket you had complimented Jake on earlier that day. It was a stark contrast to the red glowing light above him, and something snapped in your heart and recoiled back as one slender bare leg in beige fishnet stockings wrapped around his. 

There was an overly drunken and seductive 'ahm,' forcing you to glance over his shoulder at the girl he was with—her costume was a bejewelled Taylor Swift outfit to match her long blonde hair. 

You swallowed your bile and adverted your gaze, pressing yourself back up against that wall, out of sight and hidden completely from view. 

You knew this was a possibility; Jake was merely looking for a hookup and nothing more. You had considered it all afternoon. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel utterly hurt at the sight. 

"I mean, Nat's pretty clever befriending that girl.. what was her name, Maeve?" the girl snickered. 

"I know. It sounds like something out of those weird fantasy books everyone loves." A whimper from his companion followed Jake's breathy and muffled laugh.

At the dig, your hand went to your chest, your heart thudding painfully under your palm. The realization they had been talking about you, about Nat, made tears flood your eyes. 

You didn't understand it. Or maybe you did, and you were too blinded by the possibility of someone like him, someone like Nat, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Rueben, to beat the fucking pyramid scheme and care about someone like you. 

What other explanation was there except the fact you had been blinded by those who proved to be the exception? Blinded by the fucking elementary school crush cause he had flirted, smiled, joked, and maybe even showed some half-decent interest in you. Clearly, the second he figured out you weren’t going to hook up with him, he sought his sights on someone else. 

Jake wasn’t trying to mould into the stereotype. He was the fucking stereotype.

"Even her costume," she sneered. "Like, who the fuck dresses up like that for a college rager Halloween party? You're supposed to dress up slutty."

You couldn't speak, staring down the front of your dress to what you had thought had been a risky enough slit. You couldn't even breathe. 

"You kidding me?" he laughed lowly. "Bradley was practically screaming at us what she dressed up as. I'd have no fucking clue what she was otherwise. I'd guess some random Greek Godness obsessed with that awful shade of orange."

Your hand slid up from your chest, around your throat to feel your harsh, rough swallow. Only it didn’t stop there, suddenly finding yourself wrapping it around your entire mouth, stifling any noise wanting to escape. Through shaky inhales in and out of your nose, you fought hard to stop yourself from crying over this. 

Over him. Over a fucking jock who would say anything to hook up with a girl. Only to get his dick wet. 

But you couldn't prevent the tears from welling up in your eyes, or from one finally spilling over, dropping down your cheek only to stall there, or how the hand covering your mouth curled up around your cheekbone, only to stroke away the tear. 

You refused to look back at the door through the crack, so you fixed your gaze on the darkness consuming the ground. And as you lowered your hand, you caught the ugly black smear marring your skin.

 How could you not? Standing in the glow of that red hallway light, it was the only thing you could see.

The artistic irony hits you like a freight train. Here you were, dressed as the girl in your favourite painting. Her dress had been the only bright shade of colour in the entire painting, and you, standing in the top half glow of bright red LED lights, had failed to notice what had been staring you in the face all along.

Orange was muted by red, and black bled through all. The only thing about you that stood out the entire evening was this tiny black mark scarring the back of your hand—black tears from smeared mascara.

"I would have guessed an orange," the girl snickered, quickly followed by a mewl. "Though she practically blended into the wall, I couldn't see her with the lights." 

Lips plucking on skin echoed off the title and out the door, and Jake drew in a ragged breath as he agreed. "She did blend right into the fucking wall, didn’t she?"

Your eyes burned. The girl giggled. 

“How long do you think this one will stay? She seems… different, to say the least.” 

Jake sniggered. “Seriously, you think Natasha Trace is hanging around that girl out of the goodness of her heart?” 

His laugh was so full of malice that it was nothing like the ones you had heard pleasantly filling your ears earlier. 

“Everyone knows after what Nat did, she needs an image clean up. Playing the saint, befriending the weird loner art girl, giving her the best friend badge?” 

“If she thinks she’s got a place in the big leagues, she’s in for a rude awakening,” the girl murmured. “Pathetic. People like her don’t belong with people like us.” 

There was a pause. “It’s just like Natasha, though. She always needs an audience, something to validate her feelings. It’s brillant really.” 

Jake's agreement was a silent blow, his next words the dagger. "Nat's smart. She knows how to play the game. Maeve's just...convenient."

Convenience. The word echoed in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your already crumbling self-worth.

“Give it a year. Trace is going to drop her the second the next new shiny person comes along. And everyone is going to forget about the little art girl she used up and discarded. Or she’ll become the most hated girl on campus.” 

Without your back up against the wall, his words might have made you crumble into that dark abyss. 

“Can we stop talking about her now?” the girl whined. “I thought you promised to get me off.” 

Jake chuckled lowly, the sound morphing into a low, predatory growl. “You brought her up, sweetheart. But don’t worry—I’m all yours now.” 

You pushed yourself away from that wall, stumbling down the dark hallway to your bedroom out of instinct, refusing to subject yourself to any further torture. But just before your door, you fell into the wall, your shoulder throbbing as you slouched against it. 

The world around you swirled, leaving you consumed by one thought—and one thought alone.

That. Fucking. Asshole! How dare he! How fucking dare he!

To hear Natasha be demeaned, your friendship demeaned and used as a stepping stone in pursuit of a meaningless hookup... anger boiled under your skin. You didn’t care what he or what they had said about you, but Nat? 

If Jake thought he’d succeed in sweet-talking you, to play you like a puppet on a string, just as he assumed Nat had been doing, he had another thing coming. If he was going to talk shit about your friendship with her, you’d show him just how spineless you could be. 

Oh, he’d wish he’d never caught you off that fucking ladder. Wished he had never met you and flirted with you, obviously a ploy to find someone to hook up with. You gagged at ever having a crush on him in the first place. 

But as you leaned against the wall, trying to steady your swirling thoughts, doubt wormed its way into your mind.

What if he was right? 

What if your friendship with Nat was just a convenience, a way for her to maintain her status or recover from her sorority fallout? You knew nothing of it, nothing more than what she told you. There could be more to the story, things she hadn’t revealed, things nobody else had either.

 No, you shook your head, trying to dismiss the thought. Nat had been there for you in ways no one else had. 

Jake was just an asshole. Plain and simple. 

But then another thought sucker punched you in the gut. 

You couldn’t tell anyone else what he said. You wouldn’t be responsible for causing that type of drama within a friend circle, one that long before you ever showed up. They never would have believed you anyway, and Nat… she worked so hard to get out, escape the rumours and gossip, to put it behind her. She didn’t need to know about this.

You had no choice but to carry this burden alone. It was a lonely decision, but perhaps loneliness was a small price to pay for the semblance of harmony among friends—or so you tried to convince yourself.

But Jake. You could no longer give a rat’s ass about Jake. If he wanted to attack Nat, then fine. You hit him right back. That much you could still do. 

Whatever had possessed Frederic Leighton to name the piece you currently embodied, “Flaming June,” whatever possessed him to gift that girl with fire in her name, that fire was suddenly born in you. 

A flame that sparked and kerosened your soul to burn, hot and bright. It was a wildfire that rushed under layers of skin and ignited every nerve, ending with a ferocity you never knew you possessed. It was born to protect what you had found - Nat, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, Javy and Rueben. And that fucking asshole would never be allowed to put you down, Nat down, like your family did, ever again. 

Pushing yourself off the wall, you stepped into your bedroom. Slamming the door, the lock clicked hard into place. 

It never opened the rest of the night.

NOW YOU KNOW....

Tag List:

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[marvelsage]

Aonung

Aonung x Metkayina Reader

You had been on your way to meet Aonung since his teaching lessons should be done by now, you were close enough to hear yelling and water splashing. Turning the corner it became clearer to you that it was Aonung, his friends and the Sully boys fighting, you shook your head and came up beside the eldest daughter, Kiri.

“Are you alright?” She jumped a little at your sudden appearance and shook her head that she was.

“I’m fine, Y/n? Right?”

“Kiri?” You greet each other respectfully and then return to the scene before frowning as you saw the chief and their father pulling them apart. You watched as the Sully’s were pulled away and then made eye contact with Aonung who had a scratch on his cheek as he was being pulled away and yelled at as well. He looked away embarrassed and continued with his father, you would catch him later then.

“Aonung?” It had been some time later in the evening when you had the chance to visit him again, this time you found him near the shore zoned out until he heard you. He didn’t say anything when you walked up nor when you sat beside him, gazing at his side profile as he continued to look into the water.

You slowly place your hand on his jaw and turn him to yourself fully examine the extent of the brawl, rubbing gently over the scratch seeing it had a salve over it already you hummed at the bruising on his cheek.

“Still handsome to me…” He had been looking down when you spoke but met your eyes after his hard exterior slowly melted away under your gaze. It made you feel all warm inside knowing that you could get him with one look, you pulled his face closer and placed a soft kiss on his injuries. Pulling away you could see the faintest of red fill his face as he tried not to smile ending up with a half smirk.

“Aww I made you blush.”

“Shut up” Laughing when he pushed you away playfully, only to stop and admire the way you laughed and smiled at him. It made him all warm inside knowing he made you laugh, that he made you smile so big. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him.

“You better not tell anyone about this or else…”

“Or else what?” He gets closer with his infamous smirk.

“Or else I’ll tell my mother who really broke her favorite pearl hair piece” Gasping you lean back with a hand over you mouth at the audacity he had.

“Oh yeah then I’ll tell my father who really lost his hunting spear!” It was his turn to mimic your reaction less dramatic though.

“Alright, alright. Truce” You both laughed at your sillines and continued to catch up.

“So you want to tell me why you were fighting?” His mood dampened, you could tell he wanted to clam up but you wouldn’t let him. So you take his hand and tug slightly for him to come closer.

“Only if you want to, Aonung.”

“You’re going to be mad at me…”

“Try me.” It took him a moment to look long between you and the water before he gave in.

“We were… we were making fun of Kiri.” You stayed silent for a moment and then sighed rubbing the back go his hand to pull his attention to you.

“I am not mad, just…did you apologize?” He shook his head and then started to fidget with your hands, a telltale sign that he did something.

“Aonung, what did you do?” Before he could reply another person called for him coming closer. It was Neteyam and he did not look happy to see him.

“Aonung, have you seen Lo'ak?” You turned back to Aonung and tilted your head in question as well. He finally met your eyes and you knew that look, he had done something alright, something stupid.

Tag List:

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[bodyhopper-files]

Impersonating Ashton

When I found out I could possess other people's bodies, my first target was an obvious one. Ashton Keller—the blonde-haired jock with an athlete's physique who always seemed to enjoy tormenting me in school. So, I thought what better way to get even than to take over his body?

But as soon as I entered and felt the power of his bulging biceps and oozing charisma, I realized my plans had shifted. Being Ashton Keller was intoxicating; his confidence was thorough and his sexuality was primal. I wanted this sensation for myself, not just temporarily, but forever.

With Ashton's killer smile and imposing physique, I had an indescribable sense of power that only added to my determination: I was going to steal his body and life permanently.

I began to use my powers to manipulate those around me so they would think I was Ashton, and it was even easier than I expected. People believed what I said and trusted me when I used Ashton's face and borrowed freely from his sterling reputation in town.

I made sure to research Ashton's life as much as possible as I fully assumed his identity; I had to know everything about him if I wanted people to think I was really him. From his favorite team sports, hobbies, attitude and behavior—I needed to be able to mimic them all flawlessly.

For hours upon hours each day, I practiced in front of a mirror perfecting my impersonation of the cocky jock.

I practiced his mannerisms, his innate gestures and movements. I practiced the way he walked, always strutting along with a swagger that turned heads. I imagined my feet were springs and let the athletic energy of each step flow through my body while I looked straight ahead, not at the ground like I usually did when walking.

Then it was time to practice talking. Ashton had a certain smoothness when he talked—it was as if every word was carefully chosen—and I wanted to make sure I could imitate it perfectly. So, whenever someone tried to start up a conversation with me, instead of nervously stumbling over my words as usual, I answered with a confident, effortless flow that left people mesmerized and attracted.

As I continued to practice Ashton's smirk, grin, laugh and even his signature move—the quick flick of his head to the side and a playful bounce of the pecs, sure to catch anyone's attention—I was starting to feel more and more like him. I had become so comfortable in his body that I could no longer tell the difference between us.

Soon enough, I began following Ashton's daily routine as if it were my own. I started wearing clothes just like he did, lifting weights in the gym to build up muscle mass, and even began eating the same food he ate. I also made sure to go to all the same parties and social events that Ashton attended, so I could become a master of adaptation in any situation.

Every night before bed, I would read from Ashton’s journal, browse through his phone, and dig through the files on his computer to learn everything that I could about him which he might have otherwise held private.

Every detail of my new identity had been meticulously examined until I felt comfortable enough to test it in the open—at first with small things such as ordering food at a café while using Ashton's distinct voice and practiced grin, or chatting with his friends in passing about the recent game like I was a lifelong fan.

The more I got into the swing of things, the more I embraced my new self. It felt like second nature to me now and I knew by committing myself so completely to this new life, no one could ever know that it hadn't always been mine.

One year later, I had fully assumed a new life for myself being Ashton Keller, the sexy, confident jock. I had come a long way from my original, awkward self and no trace remained of my former identity as I had completely taken over Ashton's body and life.

People around me never questioned me or suspected that the real Ashton was someone else entirely; nobody knew but me.

And I never looked back.

THE END

[crowntism]

Bishops x Creature Reader? And what I mean is that they would be bouncing off walls one moment and then staring your soul for no reason the next. Not full blown chaos, but enough to make them unpredictable.

I think platonic would make sense, but seeing it romantically would be pretty funny.

You didn't specify if the reader was ACTUALLY a creature or just a normal guy who displays creature like behavior so I'm going to do what I want which is to be a fucked up monster.

Also I'll be doing follower forms only for this one, because I feel it'd work better for what I'm going for :)

CW minor character death for this one btw!

There were always rumors and whispers about things that lurked in the forest beyond the camp, monsters and creatures and all sorts of beasts that would devour you whole. The bishops knew well of what lurked in their own forests, but the forest outside the Lambs domain was different. When expressed concerns the Lamb would simply laugh it off and explain the woods were fine, nothing had happened to them while in it... but the Lamb was a god now, and the Bishops mere mortals.

Leshy

Leshy first encounters you when he wanders off from camp and gets hopelessly lost. The scent and sounds of the camp fading as he tries desperately to feel around the forest for something to help guide him.

You don't really introduce yourself, instead mimicking the calls and noises you'd heard from followers previously to lead him back to camp and out of the woods. Though you do begin to get extremely annoyed when he keeps finding himself back in the same damn spot pretty much weekly.

It's at that point you give up on trying to hide yourself and decide if the Lamb comes to kill you for "intruding" on their territory oh fucking well its not your fault they let a blind guy wander back into the woods repeatedly.

Leshy isn't scared of you, per say, he can't exactly see you and just assumes you're a cult member he hasn't met or smelled in the camp and that you prefer to work out in the woods.

You tell him to stay in camp but literally the next fucking day he's back out in the god damn forest lost again.

This continues on for months until he finally pieces everything together in his worm brain that 1. you are NOT a cult member and 2. you are most definitely Not Normal in the slightest.

He asks you point blank if you're a monster and you have to calm yourself and remind yourself that he's blind and therefor had no fucking idea that you were quadruped and eldritch in nature.

Despite learning what you were, he still didn't learn his lesson. At this point you were pretty sure he was visiting you on purpose.

A few more months later and you're both finally... comfortable around each other. You allow him to feel your face, ignoring the unpleasant feeling of claws poking at your fanged mouths and many eyes, and he tells you a little about his own past.

It was when you two were almost caught that he discovered your true trickster nature, listening to you mimic his fellow cult member's voices to lead someone astray and further away from where the two of you were.

When he asks about it you simply tell him you were a rambunctious creature in the past, you caused chaos and discord wherever possible, but with the Lamb encroaching on your territory you had calmed that down to avoid being felled by their blade.

Leshy has the greatest prank ideas now, and you don't have a choice in the matter.

Whenever the Lamb is out on crusades, Leshy will lure a few cult members out into the forest to "gather materials", in which case its now your job to scare the shit out of them.

Your friendship is very unfortunate for literally everybody else in the cult, but Leshy is absolutely LOVING the chaos the two of you cause. You're extremely lucky the Lamb already knows and is allowing this.

Heket

Heket enjoys walks around the camp and the forest surrounding it, so its not unusual for her to disregard the rumors and go into the woods anyways.

She does notice that there's something always following her when she goes too far in, but writes it off as a curious squirrel or something.

It's on a rainy day where she actually sees whats been following her. Shaded by the trees and barely visible in the downpour, something watches with far too many glowing eyes. Mouths with sharp teeth litter the massive body as it smiles down at her, chittering and singing in tongues she barely remembers. As she makes eye contact with it, it darts off, leaving the forest quieter than when she arrived.

This only deters her for a day before she's back in the forest. However she's now acutely aware of whatever is following her, noticing a glowing eye through the trees or the soft singing of too many voices.

Heket isn't at all frightened. She knows the beast isn't hungry (she's seen hunger, inflicted it and experienced it intimately, so she knows a hungry monster when she sees it). So she tolerates it.

It isn't until one unfortunate day, so used to the experience of being watched and followed, that she meets the creature in full. A spy had tracked her into the forest and followed her, intent on robbing or perhaps murdering her.

The spy gets so far as knocking her to the ground and raising a shoddy rusted knife before they're choking on their own blood as an antler is pierced through their body.

Heket isn't... too bothered by the scene, she's seen and done worse things as a bishop, but she is a little bothered by how the beast looks at her and smiles before trotting away, singing a cheery tune and ignoring the deep red trail that follows it.

She does end up avoiding the forest for a little longer this time, not because it was traumatizing, but because she wasn't entirely sure if the taste of blood would've sent the beast searching for more.

Just in case, this time she brings some food along with her. It's a simple stew, she didn't want to waste too many cult resources on a random beast within the woods, but she hopes regardless the beast will accept it and not go hunting for follower meat.

It doesn't take long for her to meet the beast again, lured in by it's singing.

Heket is only mildly surprised that when she offers it the stew, it lifts up its massive head to laugh at her.

She is, however, extremely surprised when it talks to her.

You explain to her that you cannot eat what she's brought to you, that despite your appearance you actually feed off the sunlight. You smile with mirth at her as you ask if this was a way to bribe you not to kill her after what you did with the last guy.

You break out into rancorous laughter as she shrugs at you, beating your hooves on the ground.

She spends more time with you after that, you telling her about the forest that goes on, about the happenings of the cult before she joined.

She doesn't talk much-can't talk much, but that doesn't matter to you. You talk enough for the both of you, one mouth chattering up a storm while another coos or sings quietly.

The toad eventually gets used to your habits, the way you stop talking and shoot up, many eyes gazing through the trees far past what her own eyes can perceive. The way you trail off during a story before another mouth takes over talking. The way you don't even seem to see her, but look through her.

She wouldn't ever tell you, but she's a little envious of the fact you can simply absorb sunlight to eat. Just like how you'd never tell her that you were sharing your substance and energy with her so she wouldn't need to eat as much.

Kallamar

Kallamar had always avoided the forest to begin with, so when he was forced asked to go into the woods to pickup a few herbs for the medical tent he did so with great reluctance.

It was honestly hilarious to see him jump at every little noise and flinch at the small wild life that would scurry by, it was also extremely pitiful, which is probably why you approached him with so much caution.

Unfortunately, you were massive, so no amount of slow movement and quiet voices would've prevented the hellish screech to erupt from the squid and the frantic fleeing.

No new friend for you :(

Kallamar on the other hand REFUSED to go back into the damn woods, Lamb be damned he was not about to confront whatever the fuck lived in there.

But in the end the Lamb always wins and he's sent back into the woods for more medicinal supplies. This time the Lamb was gracious and allowed him to take a small dagger with him. It probably wouldn't do anything against the behemoth he had seen before, but it made Kallamar feel better regardless.

Thankfully for the pathetic ex-bishop, there was no massive terrifying monster the second time. There were a lot more of the herbs he was looking for, though.

Suspiciously enough it had looked like the herbs had been plucked by their roots and planted closer to the trails the followers tended to travel. He chose to ignore it and just be thankful that he didn't have to go too deep into the woods.

Honestly you'd probably only be friends in a long distance sort of way for a LONG time. He is fully aware of his limits as a mortal now and is still EXTREMELY afraid of dying, so talking to monsters in the woods is his lowest priority.

He'll warm up to you. Eventually.

Shamura

Shamura is ALWAYS seeking knowledge, even after the head injury and the memory issues they are constantly on the hunt to learn and know more.

So when they heard rumors of there being something ancient and unholy in the woods? Well they were wandering off first chance they got.

Perhaps it wasn't the best idea for them to wander off deep into the woods. While their episodes were getting less frequent and their memory getting slightly better, they were still at risk of getting horribly lost.

Unfortunately for them, their thirst for knowledge (and sometimes war) occasionally led to some... bad decisions on their part.

Luckily for Shamura, they find exactly what they're looking for.

In this friendship it's actually YOU, the monster, that is slightly unsettled. Shamura's lust for knowledge often leads to you being overwhelmed with the questions they ask.

Most of their questions revolve around your anatomy and biology. Which eyes do you mainly see out of, can you pick and choose which ones to use, do all of your mouths lead to the stomach or are some purely for attacking, how fast does your body heal, etc.

You don't even know how to answer some of these questions but that doesn't stop the spider from thinking of even more wild inquiries.

Shamura also accompanies you on your daily activities, just to observe what you do and how you do it. It's not everyday they meet a monster and they NEED to know everything about it.

Eventually you get used to being watched so often. Kind of. Not really. At least they're good company.

[strrykais]

die with a smile

a hwang hyunjin short story

week three

hyunjin didn’t want to admit that he has been purposely hiding in the supply closet to talk to you. he was very intrigued to paint, he even got his friends to get him stuff that he stashed away in here so they can learn in peace. he didn’t want to worry but it's been quite a few days since you tried to come and bother him. walking out his room, he starts to slowly making his way towards your room, every time he would try to go see you, your door would be closed or you wouldn’t be in there. hyunjin was getting lonely maybe he needs to make more friends. turning the corner he sees the door of your room open. with a smile on his face he dashes to the door, looking in only for it to be empty once again.

“for someone who tries to avoid her, you are awfully here quite a bit.” a voice says from behind him. hyunjin jumps turning around wanting to see who is speaking.

“im not looking for her.” hyunjin quickly dismisses the kid who looks like he could be his age. hyunjin turns to walk back to his room, while the new person continues to follow him.

“i’m jisung. yn talks about you a lot.” jisung says, making hyunjin stop while jisung walks pass him heading to god knows where. hyunjin quickly comes out his daze to follow after him.

“what do you mean she talks about me. we barely know each other.” he grumbles out, following jisung into what he assume his room. hyunjin stops at the door when he sees a man sitting in the chair holding two pudding cups, looking a little annoyed.

“jisung where did you go, doctors said you need to rest. and look at you walking around talking to pretty boys. that's got to stop.” the man says helping jisung into the bed gently tucking him in.

"you must be hyunjin, hi im minho. yn talks about you a lot. you should be nicer to her." minho says turning his attention back to jisung. hyunjin watches as they conversate with each other. how tender the touches were. he felt like he was intruding so he slowly turns to leave when jisung calls out to him.

"she won't be back for a couple of days." he says while chewing on pudding he was get spoon fed. hyunjin simply nods and walks out, going to look for something to pass the time.

a couple of days later, hyunjin was reading a book when you popped in, jumping on his bed right over him. hyunjin grumbles lightly shoving you off.

"where the hell have you been, i've been waiting for you everyday." hyunjin says throwing the book out in frustrating, making you slightly jump. your face was stunned by his reaction only for it to morph into a smirk.

"you missed me?" hyunjins worry instantly turned to anger as he started to push you out his room. your laugher filling the room. hyunjin soon found himself smiling and following you out the door to their secret hideout.

hyunjin was starting to get the hang of painting his intense eyes staring at the way you held the paintbrush the light strokes he tried to mimic, though your style was sloppy and slow he found his to be more rushed. he liked the way the colors don't have enough time to fully dye the canvas beneath. he was so immersed in his painting, until he heard you coughing. looking away from his canvas he sees you gasping for air, you were having trouble breathing. hyunjin in a panic runs out grabbing the first nurse he could find, pulling them to you.

hyunjin was pacing the doors outside your room. the doctors and nurse shut it and closed the blinds so hyunjin had no way to know how you were. in fact he didn't even know what you were in here for. he made a mental note to ask you when he knew you were feeling better. he just wanted to see you to make sure you were okay right now, right this second. hyunjin couldn't really place his feeling towards you. one minute you got on his nerves and the next he was laughing with you. you always seemed to light a room no matter where you went.

hyunjin stands when he hears the door open, with the distant sound of your laughter. before the doctor could even get a word out hyunjin rushes right past the doctor right into the room where he sees your bright smile. letting out a breath of relief, hyunjin steps right into your embrace. he was so happy you were okay.

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tags : @hannamoon143 @jellyleggz @tajannah-price1 @skzfelixlove @kkamismom12 @mafiulaputaama

[luringfantasy]

One by One 6/7 (final chapter part a)

PRELUDE

You were snooping around Loki's stuff to find his chest full of sex toys. He was not very pleased about it and has decided to punish you by using all his toys on you, one by one...

based on this imagine |

previous main masterlist

Warnings: use of "pet" names, BDSM, dom Loki, sub reader, female reader

MINORS DNI

NO PROOF READING

You were waiting. And all you did was to wait for Loki, but Saturday did not come, and neither did you..(XD). Loki was pulled into a mission, and it just kept getting extended week after week. You worked for Tony and occasionally for SHIELD, you hated Hydra, but this time the hate was personal. 

Those damned creatures kept Loki away from you, kept you from his glorious dick, how dare they!

Private Number : Prepare yourself, I won’t be stopping this time, little pet. -L

You knew exactly who this was, your heart started beating fast receiving his text like this, was the wait over? Although you decided to tease him a little bit.

You : who dis?Private Number : You are asking for trouble y/n, you know perfectly well “who dis” is.You : idk, it’s been so long, i might have forgotten Private Number : I see, perhaps my little dove needs a thorough reminding.

Him addressing you as “his” little dove made your heart soar. You have been working with him for so long, but didn’t realize that he even saw you as a friend let alone “his”. This was a conversation for future you. Much much later in the future, after you get a ride on his glorious, beautiful cock, mmm, definitely after that. Your thighs rubbed against each other, you would definitely not mind Loki “reminding” you. Though you didn’t know how much of anything you would retain once he started to fuck you.

You : When will u be back??Loki : Eager are we?

You imagined he must be chuckling lightly at your desperation.

Loki : Soon enough dove. And until then, you will save your sweet nectar for me and only me. Not even your own fingers should have a taste of what is mine!

Oh god, you were already desperate for him, using your own fingers to mimic his, trusting you silicon friend more often than not, and he wanted you to wait?

You : 😭😭Loki : Are you that happy?You : Wats there to be happy abt? U r being unfair.

You waited for him to say something but figured he was busy or maybe he didn’t deem this important enough to discuss. His word was final, he was letting you torture yourself, make you wait. You receive occasional texts from him, which did not help at all.

Loki : I am having the finest chocolate and I still want you on my tongue.Loki : Darling, do you know the traffic light system?You : ???Loki : Hmm, I suggest you look into it...

??? Seriously, what was this man thinking? You were now concerned for your safety. But the idea of Loki going feral on you turned you on more than it scared you. An inner voice told you that you should probably seek help, but, when have you listened to it when it concerned Loki?

After a week or so, you fell into a routine with him, texting him whenever you got some time. On days when he didn’t text you, you worried. And then patiently waited, hoping he was well. But it was impossible for you to wait, you almost went against his words to relieve yourself, but stopped at the very end. Then one day you were not so lucky, and very very very desperate. Your will power broke, and you had one of the best orgasms in a while, almost as good as the ones Loki gave you. The waiting does add to the intensity.

But now you are scared. You knew you cannot lie to Loki, he is the god of lies, but you didn’t want to confess to him either. You were already in this arrangement because you were going through his stuff behind his back, and now you broke his rule.

As a few days passed the guilt ate you from the inside, so you confessed to him over text. His reply was worse than anything you could have expected. It was an “OK.”, that too with a full stop! You were expecting him to reprimand you, but this meant only one thing, that he will take care of this matter when he arrives.

Loki : My place, right now.

This is the text you had been waiting for! Fcking finally. Finally some fucking! The last two weeks took a toll on you, not only did you abide by Loki’s rule and were super frustrated, you were also anxious about how Loki would punish you, for breaking his rule.

You were prepared for this evening for a very long time, you even bought a new pair of dark green lingerie for him.

As you walked towards his door, it hit you. The delicious smell, coming from his place, filled the whole corridor. Did he get you food? Before you even knocked the door, he opened it (damn his god powered hearing).

You immediately went in for a hug. “I missed you! You took too long for this!”. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you into him, then you felt him breathing you in. “And we both know that you lack any patience…” he whispered into your hair, which made you stiffen immediately, prompting a chuckle out of him.

(To be continued)

Thankyou for reading my work. And, well.. just thankyou.

TAGLIST: @lokixryss@alyeskathewave@ladymischief11@tukes@yelkmelk@crimson25

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

How would the M6 react to MC being drunk in front of them for the first time? The kind of drunk that changes MC's demeanor, and now they're all giggly and reckless

The Arcana HCs: M6 reacting to a drunk MC

~ I love this request. Also I know some of you are going to read this and wonder what the M6 are like when they get drunk, which is why I'll be reblogging the original creator's response to that question right after I post this! Love you guys - brainrot ~

- to set the scene-

It has been a very, very long Friday and you have never been more ready for the weekend. Unfortunately, by the time you make it back to your living space, you find a little note from your beloved apologizing because they're going to be back later than expected. You sigh, drop your bag onto the table, kick off your shoes and lean back to relax. You had picked up some spiked lemonade on your way back to try with them, but you figure a glass ahead of time wouldn't be too bad. You take a sip and are immediately disappointed by how little alcohol you can taste.

Half an hour and two large glasses later you can feel your head beginning to swim. Surely you aren't drunk, that stuff has next to nothing in it - until you check the label attached to the back and your eyes grow wide at the numbers you read. Just as the humor sets in and you begin to giggle you hear the door open.

"MC? I'm sorry I'm late ..."

Julian

Did he expect to come home to a drunk and giggling MC? No. Is he mad about it? Also no

He can't help it, the first thing he's trying to do is evaluate you. How drunk are you? Will he also be having a few drinks tonight or is he going to be staying sober so you can let loose?

He watches as you follow Malak around the house, trying to mimic his hoarse cawing

Water it is

Come to think of it, this is a fantastic chance to display his theatrical talents. He's always had a knack for comedy

You make one of the best audiences he's had in years. Even the jokes he doesn't deliver as well as he wants to are met with uncontrollable laughter

Will absolutely act out a comedy sketch in one of his stolen wigs, the plot getting increasingly ridiculous as he gets swept away in the moment

Will die of shame the next morning when you start quoting his amphibian-inspired Romeo and Juliette improv around the house:

"Forgive me, father frog, I got the warts from the toad. But how was I to resist him? His croaking was so passionate -"

Asra

When they opened the door and heard your giggles they knew it was a good night

And then he rounded the corner and saw your flushed face and lidded eyes and dopey smile and knew that you were apparently having a really good night

They're just pulling out a chair to pour themselves a drink too when they feel a draft and look up in time to see you marching out the back door

Now he's giggling as he jogs to catch up with you, wondering where on earth drunk you has decided to go at this time of night

The docks, apparently. Their story about Faust in the palace garden maze has inspired you to try the same thing

In the middle of the night

While you are not as sober as you should be to practice life-preserving magic

The problem is that Asra is your best/worst enabler, so if trespassing on the ships to jump off of their masts is what you want to do, then that's what the two of you are doing

Three, if you count Faust

You are absolutely going to get nauseated from all the floating and puke all over him

They had it coming for enabling you, but what they didn't see coming was you pulling them into the ocean for an impromptu bath

Nadia

She's never seen you so drunk before, normally when you drink with her it's at big dinners so you don't even get tipsy

She's wavering on how to respond. Should she partake in whatever delightful brew you've apparently smuggled into the palace?

Or should she dedicate herself to taking care of you instead?

Oh but now you're giggling and collapsing into her lap, asking her about her day -

She's telling you about this one meeting with a certain courtier and now you're interrupting her, arms flung wide as you go on a drunken rant about them

Well. She knew you tended to filter your thoughts in the palace, but she had no idea your opinions were this colorful. Or hilariously stated

Now she's reaching for the bottle of spiked lemonade and pouring you another glass. What other amusing judgments have you been hiding?

Muriel

Will spend the evening taking the most excellent care of you while she prompts you for more rants

Here, lie down in her lap, drink some water, let her give you a massage, and tell her more about your thoughts on the chamberlain's most recent outfit decision, and how it resembled a stoned flamingo

Happy to hear that you're happy, but a little unsure of how to proceed

Were you planning on getting drunk? Did something happen to make you want to get drunk?

Oh, the lemonade was stronger than expected? Ok

Wait no stop trying to climb him. He's not a tree. You're going to bump your head

Oh, now you're wondering outside and loudly singing. And Inanna's going with you because she thinks it's hilarious

He's enjoying this uninhibited side of you but he's concerned for your safety

And for the safety of all the natural wildlife that may encounter you in this state

Wait no don't climb that tree

When did you get so good at climbing trees? He's never even seen you try by yourself before and now you're a good twenty feet up???

Does he climb up after you? How will he convince you to come back down?

"... MC? If you come down, I'll cuddle you."

A moment of silence. Did it work?

All he hears is a faint "catch meee ..." from high above his head before you come hurtling down through the branches

He doesn't know how he survived all the heart attacks you gave him that night

Portia

Immediately inspecting whatever it is that got you so happy. She wants in on your secrets

Spiked lemonade? From that market stall? Haha, no wonder you're plastered

She'll have a little bit, but what she really wants to know is if you'll hear out her crazy ideas for your magic abilities

"MC? Is it possible to do magic while you're drunk?"

She's met with a lopsided grin and an unsteady flash of the funniest looking sparkles she's ever seen

Were those supposed to be ... in the shape of Pepi? Or a sea monster?

Oh, this is going to be so much fun

Takes you out into the garden because she needs to know if Cinderella's pumpkin coach can actually happen (one of her guilty reading pleasures)

You come up with some abomination consisting of several squash, a whole mess of vines, and one terrified rat

The two of you end up going on a joyride through the fields behind the palace, lurching violently in all directions

There is now a rumor of the menacing giggling cryptid that wanders through the fields at dusk, scattering chunks of ravaged gourd

Lucio

Party time? Party time!!

Already loudly praising your drinking habits as he starts gulping straight from the bottle

Maybe he would savor it normally, but you started without him so now he needs to catch up

He makes the same mistake you did, of not reading the label and assuming it was weak, and the bottle is empty in minutes

"You know MC, I'm kinda surprised something that weak got you that smashed ohhhhh wait a minute -"

He just stood up and is now swaying in place, startled by the headrush

And then he hears you snorting with laughter at yourself as you try to tell the worst dad joke he's ever heard

Normally at this point he'd be caught up in the frenzy of an out of control party, what's he supposed to do when it's just the two of you?

Except you told the punchline first, and then the beginning, but now you're kind of backtracking through the middle, and you're breathless with giggles, and he's laughing too

That's it, that's how the rest of the night goes, ruining all of your favorite jokes and laughing until you're nauseated and his mascara is streaming down his cheeks

[peterman-spideyparker]

Brief-ish, unsolicited thoughts about the Moon Boys

Not proofread, written on my phone on the fly, posted on the app so if it looks wonky that’s why

Let’s start with our sweet sweet Steven.

He’s such a sweet and doting boyfriend.

Kisses morning, noon, and night.

Steven loves to cook for you. Every dish is exquisite and full of flavor, and packed with love.

At least once a week, you visit him at the museum for lunch. On nice days, you eat lunch on the museum steps. When there’s gloomy London weather, he’ll sneak you into a closed exhibit or the storage room to enjoy some private time.

One thing he loves the most is when you’re at home and you both sit on the couch and read. His hand is always laced with yours, kissing your knuckles and cuddling in close.

In terms of sexy time, I think Steven’s favorite position might be doggy style. Don’t get me wrong, he does enjoy missionary. But doggy style allows him to have a certain kind of control that he lacks at work—and that he sometimes feels that he lacks within the system. He always feels like he has a say in his relationship with you, but doggy style . . . doggy style is control for him. You’re at his mercy on all fours, and how fast you get your pleasure is solely due to his actions.

Sometimes, he’ll mix it up by holding your arms behind your back while he keeps you upright, and other times he’ll push you down so your face is in the pillows and your ass is in the air, acting as his only real focal point.

He’s also been known for a swift spank here and there, but he can’t help it. He really loves your butt.

After, there’s a lot of snuggles. Either big spoon/little spoon where you’re the little spoon and he’s pressing kisses all over your shoulder and neck and wherever else he can reach without moving too much, or if it’s face to face with foreheads resting together, limbs tangled, and the whispering of sweet nothings mixed with kisses, he’s a gentleman through and through when it comes to taking care of you.

And now Marc. This poor man needs all the snuggles.

He didn’t want to date you. Like at all. He would try his best to keep you away, but he always found himself drawn to you.

One day, he bit the bullet and asked you out for some coffee. It’s coffee—what’s the worst that could happen. Famous last words.

By the time you drank half of your drink, he was smitten, and by the end of your respective cups, he knew he was in love.

He waited nearly a week after that date until he texted you.

“She’s not gonna respond, Spector,” he grumbles ten seconds after clicking send, rubbing his hands down his face.

You respond an hour later, and Marc is mortified to look at his phone, but feels like he can breathe again when he reads your message.

“Sorry, I was giving a presentation at work! Dinner sounds great. How about Thursday?”

He’s truly flabbergasted. You said yes.

The night of the date, he gets to the restaurant early, twiddling his thumbs and wringing his hands as he stands across the street, watching if you actually come. Panic washes over him when he sees you get to the restaurant, getting a table for two in the patio area. He knows the second that he crosses the street and sits across from you, he’s done. He’d be yours forever.

Time moves fast while he works up the nerve to cross the street, and he jumps out of his skin when he feels his phone vibrate.

“Hey,” he breathes shakily.

“Hey,” you mimic. “You know, I can see you standing across the street. I have this whole time. Marc, if you didn’t want to—.”

“That’s not it,” he interrupts. He can’t let you think like that. “I’m just . . . It sounds ridiculous.” He lets out a deep breath. “I’m nervous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” you reassure him softly as you turn and look at him in the eyes from across the street. “But I can tell you from many years of experience of being nervous and anxious—the best way to stop being nervous is to just do the thing freaking you out. It has to happen eventually, and if you keep building it up in your head, it’ll only get worse.”

He lets out a shallow breath, hanging up and jogging across the street to you.

When it comes to sex, I feel Marc has two positions he really prefers—missionary, and lotus.

Marc is a man that like control, but he also takes great comfort in predictability, which is what these positions offer for him: they both allow him to be as close as possible to you, he can change little motions in his hips to make it rougher or gentler for you, he can go deep, and most importantly, he can see your face. He can see every last iota of pleasure on your features, he can kiss you over and over, and you ground him, reminding him you’re here with him and that everything is okay.

He always marks up your neck one way or another. Sometimes it’s lingering wet kisses, other times it’s red marks that fade, and more often than not, little purple hickies on the column of your neck that remain for long after the sex has stopped.

You’ve come to find that Marc likes a little pain while you’re being intimate. Not much, but a scratch of your nails through his hair, on his back, or on his arms turns him into putty in your hands.

Cuddles are mandatory aftercare for Marc. You keep him present and remind him that even if he’s feeling low, you’re there for him.

More often than not, it’s face to face cuddles, his head resting on your chest so he can listen to your heart while you play with his curls.

And just like with aftercare cuddles, Marc will always wake up early the next day to make you breakfast in bed. It’s nothing grand—truly, sometimes it’s toaster waffles and a cup of coffee—but you absolutely love it.

Now to Jake.

He’s attracted to you as soon as he meets you, but he chose to stay deep within the headspace until he knew you weren’t gonna leave or hurt Marc or Steven.

He doesn’t stick around for more than fifteen minutes when he does eventually come out, but you’re warm and kind to him.

“You must be Jake,” you hum with a soft smile. “I’m happy to finally meet you.”

Jake just nods, leaning back and drinking his spiked coffee and watching you go about your morning as you read the paper.

One day, Jake is fronting when he comes home after a rough mission. He sees you on the couch, looking lonely and less vibrant and, well, looking less you than you usually do.

He takes off his jacket and hat, putting it on the stand by the door. Jake moves over to where you are on the couch, sitting down next to you, and carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to rest on him.

You both don’t know what to do at first, both stiff and nervous, but when you shimmy down on the couch to get comfortable on him, he breathes a sigh of relief. Jake tilts his head and rests his cheek on the top of your head.

The romance between you two is slow, but it’s strong. And once the fuse is lit, there’s no stopping it.

The first time Jake kisses you, he’s nervous, but as soon as his lips meet yours, he knows with every ounce of his body that you’re the only person outside of the system that he could ever love.

The kiss turns into a make out session, and that make out session results in both of your clothes being shed all over the apartment and you trapped between his body and the mattress.

You two spin around in a litany of positions, but Jake loves it when you’re on top, hands on his chest, riding him like an award-winning equestrian front and back.

His hands grip your hips not to guide you or control you, but as a firm, silent encouragement for your actions.

Jake praises you in Spanish all through your lovemaking, calling you every pet name in the book: “corazón”, “hermosa”, “amore”, and so many others. His fluency and the lit of his pitch goes right to your core, only making the sex more incredible.

After both of you are spent, Jake kisses your cheek and neck, moving to the bathroom to get a cool damp cloth to cool down your burning skin and cleaning you up between your legs.

Jake tosses the towel into the nearby bathroom, somehow getting it to rest and hang over the side of the tub.

He rests on his side as he watches you lie on your back, looking up at him and lacing your fingers together and talking about anything that comes to mind before you fall asleep in his arms.

[randomkduck]

catdow revival au chapter 5: Oh… Good for her.

Sorry for how long it took to release this chapter. Wound up sick and then life hit me with a brick (hey that rhymes!). Anyways! Here it is! And the rest of the fic has been finished, now it's just about posting it. Which might be over the course of a few days just so that I can remember to actually do it.

Anyways, please enjoy!

Shadow looked around the house. Boredom begging to be somehow released.

Red and Green were out of the house, likely for a few days. Vio was cooped up in his room with the door only a crack open and his nose buried deep in a book.

Blue was around. But he was a kind of typhoon of activity. Switching from making food to cleaning things around the house to reading to making food again to exercising. Never giving one thing more than 20 minutes of focus.

Shadow watched him for awhile, and then thought it would be fun to try and keep up with him.

~~~~~~

I started when he moved back to his corner. There was a yoga mat with various instructions on it for how to do different stretches, and various doodads around that seemed to be for muscle??? Maybe??? Blue made his way over, and I followed. 

He did a stretch, I did my best to mimic it while still a cat. He lifted one of the doodads, I lifted a book or something else heavy and within reach.

He didn’t really notice at first. Having not paid a single ounce of attention to me for almost the whole day.

He’d reach down and pat my side whenever I walked in front of him, but that was about it.

I didn’t really know what to do while he finished whatever cooking/baking (I don’t really know the difference) project so I just circled for a little while.

He seemed to notice that (and the intense eye contact I made) but didn’t comment on it beyond a grumble of “weird ass cat” and a soft smile.

It was when he went back to cleaning that the problems arose.

Oh mercy be upon the soul who decides to reveal all the dust under the chairs by accidentally becoming a feather duster.

I trotted up to Blue, feeling extremely grumpy because I knew there was no way I was cleaning this up by licking it. No way. I refused before I’ll refuse again!

At least until Blue tried to get me in the bath. 

Which, for 1: No. For 2: No . And for 3: NO !!

Are you kidding? Getting me all soaked and soapy and having to air dry like some rat crawling out of a sewer? No thanks. I’m good.

“Come on! I need to get you cleaned up before I can clean up the dust and dirt everywhere else! I will not stand to have you running around when you're all dirty.. And… UGH!!!” I managed to jump out of his hands, running from the room and up into Vio’s room. Where I hid under his bed.

Vio had a lot of weird stuff under there. Lots of books that I’m pretty sure he had room for on the shelves. Boxes of papers and notebooks and notes. Other boxes with other stuff I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to know about.

Okay, hiding under Vio’s bed was scarier than the bath by a long shot.

Vio seemed to agree with me, because he dragged me out from under the bed with a look of pure horror on his face.

“Blue! What are you doing to the cat??” He asked, sounding a little tight, like he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

What the fuck does he have under his bed????

Blue at least looked apologetic as he lifted me out of Vio's grasp, He’s trying to give me a bath, that’s what! “rrrrrrowww.” He gave me a pointed look, I gave him a grumpy one back.

“Sorry! I was trying to give him a bath!” Blue apologized, an awkward smile on his face as he started to pet me.

“Maybe find a different way to do that then? Because I really don’t want him in my room.” Vio at this point had gone back to his usual calm, cool demeanour. Which was annoying. Be real damnit!

“Why? What’s in your room that you don’t want him getting into?” Blue asked bluntly, narrowing his eyes.

Vio froze up, and then glanced at his bed, not answering. 

Alright, setting that aside in my head as another thing for later.

“Vio-” Blue tried to ask again, looking about as suspicious as I felt.

“It’s nothing, okay? Green had it in his had to teach the little rat how to steal my stuff, I really don’t want him making off with my notes or research!” Vio spat out, like he had to get the excuse out before Blue could say anything.

Blue didn’t look impressed. “The research that keeps you cooped up in here more days than it doesn’t? The research that looks a heck of a lot like messing around with shit you shouldn’t be?” Blue accused, then shook his head. “You know what, have fun with that. Just make sure you’re room is clean, I’m deep cleaning the house today.” He ordered, carrying me out of the room. 

“Stupid jerk. I wouldn’t want poor Shadow in there anyways, he would just collect more dust and dirt and bacteria not even known by science in there!” Blue grumbled under his breath, bringing me back into the bathroom.

I was too busy thinking about how I was gonna break in there again to struggle.

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

The rest of Shadow’s day was spent with Blue. Who had stopped being a tornado of doing stuff, and had sat down to read a book.

Shocking turn of events, I know.

At one point he got this frustrated look on his face and set the book down hard beside him. Thankfully on the opposite side of him than Shadow had been snuggled up to.

He folded his arms, staring straight ahead in annoyance.

“Row?” Shadow looked up at him.

Blue glanced down at him. “I don’t need to explain myself to a cat.” He said.

“Mrrrp.” fine, Shadow set his head back down on his pause. Ears perking up as Blue decided she did need to explain herself to a cat.

“The main character is just… ugh??? She just makes me wanna-!” Blue gripped at the air like he could strangle this imaginary character if he believed hard enough.

“In book one, she wasn’t so bad. It was like reading my own thoughts on a page and the only reason I even continued through the book, and she got the cool ass reward for her good deeds with getting to actually have a more feminine- oh uh, she was born male but is a girl -not completely removing her being born male but she still got- and now in the sequel??? It’s like the author forgot everything about her character! He wrote her as being this baddass nuanced woman, and the moment she transitions fully she’s like… half the character she was before and-!” Blue slapped his hands over his forehead and dragged them down.

He nodded, not getting any of what he was saying but still wanting to be supportive.

“I miss the character who gave me my awakening, where did she go?” Blue grumbled.

Shadow paused. Blinking.

Wait what.

“You wouldn’t tell anyone would you? I’m not ready for them to know.” Blue grinned, knowing full well that Shadow couldn’t tell anyone shit.

BLUE’S A GIRL???? Shadow stared dumbly at him… her???

Blue just set, him down and went back to petting him. Seemingly not noticing the poor cat's brain frying.

He shook his head, causing her to flinch.

Blue’s a girl… good for her.