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#she threatened to collar me and i was like 👀👀👀
katzs-gameblr ¡ 5 months
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Yesterday I got kinkshamed by the Worm Queen 😭
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shadeysprings ¡ 1 year
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Hey, Beanie!💜 for Thicker than water fic - what if Tommy catches them?👀
Of the Same Feather
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—Tommy Miller x F!Reader
Summary — Tommy catches you and Joel.
Warnings — noncon/dubcon, graphic violence, manipulation & the Millers just being complete jackasses.
A/N — Please be gentle with me, it's my first time uwu As y'all can see, this is a continuation of my drabble Thicker than Water. Also, I apologize if it's quite sloppy. Ya girl's rustee mcgee
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
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Tears stream down your face as you cower on your kitchen floor. You’re paralyzed, shock and fear cocooning your body and your senses as you bear witness to Tommy pinning down his brother on the ground, his fists raining down on Joel’s face. 
Tommy snarls as Joel tries to fight back, pushing to get the upper hand from the younger Miller. But Tommy is nothing but determined, anger and pain flaring in his eyes and his mouth almost foaming as he snarls and continues with his assault.
“She wanted it, Tommy!” Joel grunts when he successfully grabs a hold of Tommy by the neck of his shirt, blood sputtering from his mouth and dripping from his nose as he speaks. “She begged me to do it!”
“You shut the fuck up, Joel!” The younger Miller snarls before throwing another blow to his brother.
Just when you think Tommy would start beating Joel once again, he stops, grabbing Joel by the collar of his flannel, and growls like a vicious animal before letting him go and pushing himself off his brother.
He leans against the cabinet under the sink, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. Anger curls around him like fire, low groans of frustration emitting from his lips and all you want to do is reach out to him and soothe him from the pain he’s feeling. But as soon as you try to move to touch his shoulder, he turns his head and his eyes meet yours. 
Despite the deafening silence that fills the entire house, you hear your heart shatter when you see no love nor concern in his hazel orbs—only rage. And he has every right to be. You could have screamed and stopped Joel from his perversion but you didn’t and allowed him to do to you what he desired. So now, you take the consequences as painful as it is. 
He grunts as he pushes himself off the ground and yanks his brother along with him. 
“Get the fuck out of my house, you bastard, and don’t you ever come back!” Tommy yells and doesn’t wait for Joel to regain coherence before pushing him out of the kitchen.
Even when out of your sight the image of them continues to penetrate your mind as you hear both men struggling once more in the front room. A grunt echoes through the house then a cough and you push yourself to peek from behind the counter, wanting to make sure that Tommy is safe, that Tommy succeeds in making Joel leave.
“You’d choose that—that whore over your own flesh and blood?!” Joel spits, blood smearing on his arm as he wipes it off his face. “Open your goddamn eyes, Tommy! She’s just using you!”
“If I ever catch you near my property, I swear to God, Joel, I’ll fucking kill you!” Tommy threatens.
Silence surrounds the entire house once more, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you wait for Joel to respond. But the slam of the door comes instead, making you flinch at the intensity before huffing out a breath of relief when you hear a car door open and close and tires rolling against the pavement. 
That’s when you slump from where you’re hiding, eyes trained on the blood staining the tiles of your kitchen. Fear remains in your chest as the scene of Tommy beating up his brother replays over and over in your head. You know Tommy to be fierce but also very loving in his own sweet way, but never in your mind did it cross how violent he can be and you sit there, praying, hoping that he’d see reason and believe you. 
You visibly start when he calls your name, hands shaking as you clutch on the edge of the counter and make to stand from your hiding place. Tommy’s anger seemed to have dissipated but with the way his chest heaves and his fist winds tight, you’re certain it’s still boiling within him.
“Tommy—” you start. “I—I didn’t ask for it, I swear.” The worry suddenly comes rushing in and you can’t help but cry once more, the tears streaming uncontrollably down your face. “Please, Tommy—please,” you beg, your voice cracking as you force yourself to speak, to voice your side and to let him know your feelings. “Please believe me, Tommy. You’re all I want—you’re the one I love and I would never—”
“You mean that?” His question catches you off guard and you stare at him, seriousness and sadness painting your face. “You really love me?” he asks.
“I do, Tommy,” you rush to him and immediately wrap your arms around his middle, his eyes focused on your face as you look up at him, fingers clutching on his shirt from the back. “I love you—only you.”
He doesn’t speak but from the way he looks at you, you know he’s thinking. A small smile then forms on your lips when he presses his hand against your cheek. You lean against his touch, reaching for his hand, all the same, to keep a hold of him, to keep him near. 
“Then prove it.” He utters, the words making you blink in confusion. “Bend over.”
“Huh?”
“If you mean what you said, that I’m the only one you love, prove it to me by bending over.”
“But—”
“Then Joel was right. You are just using me.” His eyes flash a different shade, turning darker by the second. 
“Tommy, no!” You cry once more, clutching his hand when he pulls it away from your face. “Please, Tommy! I love you, I really do.” 
“If you mean that, you know what to do.” 
His tone scares you, cold and callous, concern all gone as if the Tommy you knew and fell in love with flew out the window. Your hands shake once more, fidgeting as you think of his words. Slowly, you turn around, swallowing thickly as you face the countertop and do as he says, leaning forward and exposing your behind to him. 
Your lips quiver when he closes the distance, his crotch pressing against your ass, a whimper escaping your throat when his hand moves to caress the cheek, his foot kicking yours apart and your spine going rigid when he cups your clothed cunt. 
“Who owns this pussy?” He snarls against your ear when he bends over, his chest pressing against your back. “Who. Fucking. Owns. this?” 
But before you can respond his fingers flick through the fabric of his boxers that you’re wearing, pushing it aside only to caress your pussy lips and pushing in a finger while his thumb presses threateningly against the tight ring of muscle.
“Y—you.” you mumble and everything you once knew seems to fade right in front of you when he slips another digit within, fucking you the same way his brother did. 
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I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springlibraryand turn on notifications.
Also, send me some What If requests hehe Help boost my creativity ❤️
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lili0writes ¡ 2 years
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If you’re taking requests at the moment, could we maybe have some more David Martinez content? 👀 Maybe a scenario where he’s being a protective bf or being jealous but like, in the cute way lol. Also, i’m really glad i was able to stumble upon ur blog, not a lot of people write for edgerunners, but I already love what you have have written for all the characters so far! <333
Maine's crew an attractive s/o
Note: Thanks so much for your support!! I'm happy you like my content! If anyone wants to have scenarios like this with the other characters, let me know and I'll make another post with the others!
Part 1 Part 2
Characters: David, Rebecca, Maine
TW: mention of harrassment, violence
David
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David wasn't the type to be possessive. He left you room to breathe but he has his limits too.
Whenever someone made a move on you, he let you turn them down. Although he did give the person hitting on you a side eye even by the time they left.
Before he cromed, whenever someone would harass you and to try to get your number, he would go over to you and gave that someone a very threatening glare. If they weren't fazed by him and just waved him off, continuing to flirt with you there was usually two things that happened.
The first one was him telling them that you aren't single and to stop harassing you.
The other one was when the first option didn't work. He would use force to get them off your ass.
After he cromed up getting people to leave you alone was a breeze.
After the problem was dealt with, he would get touchy and whiny. Saying something along the lines of 'these assholes are so annoying'.
Even though he knows you wouldn't leave him just like that, he can't help but still be a bit jealous.
Rebecca
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Rebecca wasn't possessive. But she was pretty jealous.
When people wanted to ask you out, or get your number she would give them the nastiest glare they have ever seen in their entire life.
When that someone was starting to push their luck with you she trotted over to you and started yelling at them about you saying no.
Now, if you know Rebecca you know not to mess with her. But if they don't know her, they are most likely to just brush her off and just ignore her because of her young appearance.
When that happens she gets REALLY pissed. What she does to solve the issue is kick them in the gut, smash their face against the floor, or flat out pull her iron out.
When the person left she dragged you away from the scene.
She would be sulking about the incident for the rest of the day. She isn't mad about you not being able to do anything of course, she's mad about people being idiots.
Maine
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Now Maine isn't specifically possessive, but he likes to make it clear that you're his.
He loves it when he can rub it in someone's face that you two are dating. And most of the time that's all it is.
But there are times when someone gets a little bit desperate. It doesn't happen often considering how Maine looks and makes it clear that when it comes to you, they can fuck off.
He gets annoyed pretty quickly when they start pushing it, glaring at them and telling them to back off.
But when that doesn't help he gets forcefull. He'll grab them by the collar of their shirt and tell them to piss off, shove them over, punch them in the face, etc.
When the person harassing you left he'll either make you sit on his lap, or if you're not comfortable with that, close beside him arm over your shoulder.
He's really pissed about it. If the person was still in sight for whatever reason he would glare daggers into them.
After that no one came to bother you.
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thepaintedlady00 ¡ 1 year
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Nightshade
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Chapter 6 | Chapter 8
Outfit Inspo for this chapter
Chapter 7: Topsy-Turvy
TW: mentions of nudity if you squint really really hard, language, Simone sucks (y'all already know the drill), some cancer mentions & a pinch of dark humor, vague mentions of drinking and smoking, a bit of jealousy 👀, a little brotherly threatening, some close quarters flirting, laser tag, panic attacks. This chapter is the longest so far of this series, so enjoy y'all!
Jake felt light, almost weightless, as he lay in the warm bed basking in the rays of sunlight. The air around him was laced with the sweet smell of perfume, cherry with hints of rose, and light woodsy leather. It was intoxicating, and the more he breathed it in, the more he found himself craving the smell. A weight was comfortably settled onto his chest as his fingers ran through silky strands of hair. His blunt nails scratched her head, drawing out soft noises of contentment. He chuckled, an odd sense of joy rushing through his veins.
“What’s funny?” She asked, lifting her head off his chest.
Opening his eyes, he smiled up at the sunlit halo of red hair and sparkling green eyes that stared down at him. “Nothing at all.”
Her eyebrows lifted as amusement made her face even more beautiful. “Nothing at all? Why do I not believe you?”
“Calling me a liar?” He teased, his hands running along her smooth skin, tracing the curved shape of her snake tattoo up her spine. “In my own bed, that’s rather inconsiderate.”
“You weren’t complaining earlier,” she teased back, leaning into him, her fingers tracing his lips. Jake watched her face slowly soften, looking at him like he was everything to her. “You never thought you’d get this attached, did you?”
Cold weight started creeping back into his body as his mind recognized the dream. He still clung to her, clung to her soft skin beneath his fingers, the loving gaze she gave him, the smell of her perfume. Jake still closed his eyes when she leaned in to kiss him, and he hesitated to pull away even though he couldn’t feel her lips against his.
When he opened his eyes again, she was gone, and he was alone. He set his hand against his chest, taking deep breaths to escape the sudden slight feeling of breathlessness. Then, rolling onto his side, he looked at the empty space beside him, quietly recalling the sight of her bare back and that damn tattoo that he now knew painted her skin. Jake forced himself up and followed his shitty routine to prepare for another long night of service. It was starting to get ridiculous the never-changing nature of bartending at 22West.
He found himself thinking about what would have happened if he had gone through with his plans with Scott. Would he have his own restaurant? A bar that wasn’t constantly surrounded by rich assholes with more money than god and still stingy with their tips? Would he get to wear what he wanted and throw people out when they’d had enough? No. He reminded himself. It was a dumb idea, rushed and poorly thought out. It would have failed before it even started. Simone was right; all that was just a pipedream meant to help keep him from going insane with the mundane normalcy of life.
It was a fine day, not too hot but not cold either, as he rode his bike through the crowded sidewalks of people and even more crowded streets of cars and noise. Simone stood in the kitchen with a sweet smile as she fixed the collar of some girl. For a second, he thought she was Tess; they looked similar enough with the same bangs, brown hair, and big nervous eyes. He moved past them, an unsettling feeling of repressed emotion churning his stomach. “You’re late, my love,” Simone called to him.
“Not later than usual,” he replied, looking over his shoulder.
“I saved a plate for you.”
“Whatever,” he grumbled, starting up the stairs.
“Comb your hair!” She hollered.
“Fuck off, Simone!” He yelled back with a tiny smirk.
Her nagging was annoying, but it made him feel like the two of them were slowly beginning to find their normal again. She cared, even after all the bit of a bender he’d put her through in the months after Tess left. Simone always cared and always took care of him. After Etienne’s visit and Jake’s near business endeavor and Tess, Simone had kept him at arm’s length. She’d said she needed space and didn’t know if she could count on him. Now he just hoped her sober appearance and mother-hen nature meant they were both on the right track.
As he sat down at the table across from Sasha and the others, he was reminded that today was one of Lena’s days off. That was good. It’d give him time to get the image of her looking down at him, kissing him, out of his head. Sitting at another table, quietly polishing the salt shakers with a nervous glint in her eyes, the girl Simone was with took in her surroundings. She was cute, innocent, and scared shitless in the new environment.
The rowdy friends talked about her quietly before giving her the usual welcome of a pile of dishes and the order of washing them. She jumped up and did it without hesitation, looking like some lost animal for a second before she jogged to the back. It reminded him of Lena’s first day. She hadn’t even flinched when they dropped their dishes in front of her, finishing her before speaking Russian to Sasha and confidently carrying their dishes to the back. But, of course, not everyone could be like Lena, he reminded himself, eating his food with a smirk. 
Most newbies were like Tess at the start. Timid, innocent, and easy. It was why he’d always had his way with the newcomers. It was easy and uncommitted. And as the night continued, the more obvious the new girls’ doe-eyed stares became. She was enthralled with him, and he hadn’t even spoken to her. God, was it always this easy? He thought after catching her staring for the third time.
Simone stopped by the bar, quietly instructing the girl to get a bottle of wine from the cellar. “So you’ve got a trail?”
She laughed. “Yes, it appears Will is now too important for such things.”
“She seems clumsy,” he replied with a smile. “You’ll have fun with that.”
“Olive is new to this. So, of course, she will be a bit clumsy.”
Jake laughed. “Her name is Olive?”
“It’s a beautiful name,” Simone scolded. “She’s sweet.”
“I’m sure she is,” he replied.
“It seems she already has a bit of a crush on you.”
Jake made a face. “That so?”
Simone merely smiled. “You’re handsome and mysterious. Of course, a girl like her will be drawn to you.”
Something in her tone made that unsettled feeling creep back up. “She looks like Tess.”
“Does she?” Simone asked with a hum. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Jake watched her for a minute, quietly recognizing the lie and thinking about what to do. Simone wouldn’t lie to him. She had no reason to, yet there was no way she didn’t see the similarities between Olive and Tess. Her eyes filled with a gleam of something as she held his gaze… An unspoken expectation, one that Jake wasn’t quite sure he understood. 
“We need more ice,” Nicky said over Jake’s shoulder.
“I’ll get it,” he answered, turning away from Simone to grab the bucket.
Olive hurried back to Simone’s side, glancing at him with a pink blush, tucking her hair behind her ear as he moved past her. Behind the safety of the walls, Jake tried to keep his breath even. Simone was lying for whatever reason. This new Tess, his dream, all of it was becoming too much. The harder it became to breathe, the more he was sucked into the dark pit holding specific memories of all the times he’d spent holding his breath under the water in the bath. He remembered the crushing weight that stole his breath when Simone had told him his mother’s death was no accident. He had to steady himself on the wall as he remembered seeing Lena disappear beneath the water.
Pull yourself together, he cursed. He harshly forced breath into his lungs and shoveled the ice into his bucket until the numbness took over, and everything was pushed down where it belonged. He walked back through the kitchen doors and faltered at the sight before him. Lena always stood out with her vibrant hair, but this was something else. 
The black dress was simple and elegant, unlike what he would have pictured her wearing on a night out. Her hair looked soft, cascading in waves down her freckled shoulders, and if possible, her eyes were even brighter tonight. Maybe it was the lights or how she smiled, but he was enchanted. He refocused quickly, forcing the question to come out as calm and disinterested as he could muster, “The hell are you doin’ here?”
“Our little Red is a guest tonight,” Nicky replied, giving him a light nudge as he passed by.
“A guest?” He repeated, busying himself with refilling the ice to keep his eyes off her.
Lena scoffed at his disbelief. “I could be a guest.”
“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Nicky’s innocent question made Jake freeze for a fraction of a second. Was she here with someone? He wondered swiftly before bitterly forcing the angry thoughts to cover it. Why do I fucking care? He wasn’t going to get into this, not tonight, not here.
“No one,” she said simply. “I’m here for a family dinner.”
He chuckled, imagining her loud and leather-clad family sitting at one of the tables eating fancy food like rich people. “Family dinner? I’m dyin’ to see what your family comes in lookin like.”
“Me too. I told them it was upscale, but Ozzy’s version of that makes him look like an old victorian count, and Patrick...” She made a face and sighed, “Patrick is going to show up in something fucking hideous. So, I guess I should apologize in advance for you guys having to look at them all night.”
“Well, I don’t know about Nicky, but their outfits won’t bother me,” he insisted, failing to keep his attention from drifting to her exposed skin and soft curves.
“Oh?”
“I’ll be too busy looking at yours.” He winked, watching in absolute delight as she turned her head away from him, blushing almost as red as her hair. Seeing her smile because of his flirtatious banter made him remember the dream in even more detail. In an instant, that smell… That damn sweet cherry made his brain feel foggy… foggy with her and her alone.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
*
Patrick spread his arms wide, revealing more of the hideous orange-colored suit, covered head to toe in bright bedazzled jewels. His copper hair was practically glowing from the amount of gel he’d used to slick it back. “It’s pretty good, right?”
“Oh my god, you look like a cartoon character,” I whined. “I told you this place was fancy!”
“This,” he gestured to his suit again. “Is fancy!”
Turning back to Jake and Nicky, who stood frozen, wide-eyed at the horror of my brother’s suit, I sighed, “It can’t get worse than this, can it?”
Nicky’s eyebrows shot up as the door opened and closed again. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh god,” I turned and instantly covered my mouth at seeing Ozzy’s outfit. “Ozzy!”
He was dressed in a fine black overcoat that hugged his shoulders tightly and flared into a rounded tail. His neck was adorned with a simple red necktie, and an old watch hung from his buttoned chest. His leather gloves squeaked as he brought the ornate cane forward, clacking it against the floor. He tipped the tall hat to me and smiled, “It’s brilliant, isn’t it?”
“I said no hats!”
Peter rolled himself in through the door, stopping the wheelchair off to the side and giving me a knowing look. “I told them it was too much.”
He wore a very loosely fitting suit and a simple black face mask to protect him from airborne threats. I smiled, gesturing to his outfit. “At least you tried to blend in.”
“Don’t thank me yet, sis. This thing is one wrong move away from sliding right off me.”
Ozzy ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. “So this is the place, huh? I thought it would be a bit more… colorful.”
“People are staring,” I pointed out, looking at the large dining room full of people.
Patrick scoffed and turned to the restaurant with a smile. “Eat yer hearts out, you rich a-”
I slapped my hand over his mouth and dragged him back to my side. “Shut up! You can’t just waltz into my workplace and call these assholes assholes.”
“Oh, lighten up, girly,” Patrick teased.
“I could get fired!”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Howard wouldn’t fire you.” 
“Relax and try to have some fun, tight ass,” Patrick added.
Jake and Nicky stifled their laughter from behind the bar. “Your ass is the one that’s gonna feel tight with my foot shoved up it.”
Peter looked behind the bar and nodded to the two men there. “Nice to finally meet some of Lee’s coworkers.”
“You must be her brother,” Nicky smiled. “I’m Nicky. This asshole is Jake.”
“Jake,” he repeated, looking him up and down. Then, finally, he looked at me with gleaming eyes. “He certainly is your type.” He said in Irish.
“Good lord, not you too.”
Patrick threw an arm over my shoulder. “Lighten up! Tonight is going to be fun!”
Howard walked briskly toward us, trying to mask how his brows rose at the sight of my group. “You must be the Harrow party.”
Ozzy grinned. “That’s right. Nice place you’ve got here.”
Howard nodded, looking past Patrick to Peter. “It’s a pleasure to have our paths cross again, Peter. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”
“Always a pleasure, Howard,” my brother said in a tense tone.
“Be nice,” I quickly signed to him.
“I’m always nice,” he signed back. Then, with a grunt, he pulled himself out of the wheelchair. Patrick’s hand on my arm was the only thing keeping me from rushing forward to help him. Peter struggled a bit but steadily himself, rising to meet Howard’s height. “Where are we dining tonight?”
With a tight smile, he gestured to the closest table. “Right this way.” Patrick discreetly helped Peter down the stairs as they headed toward the neatly made table. “Everything has been freshly placed, so it’s perfectly sterilized.”
“Thank you, Howard.” I shook my head. “I apologize for the disruption to your evening.”
He waved me off. “Nonsense. You’re Glovers, maybe not in name but in blood. Besides, this place is as much yours as it is mine at this point. So please, enjoy your night Lena.”
The table was right in front of the bar, front and center of the whole dining room. Howard pulled out my seat for me as Sasha stepped beside him, winking at me before showcasing his skills in service by presenting the wine he’d selected and filling each of our glasses while he talked about it. He poured Peter’s water and stroked his cheek with a smile. “Good to see you, little sick boy.”
“Good to see you too, exotic cheater,” Peter replied, taking a sip of his water.
“Do you know what you’d like to order this evening?” Sasha asked after giving us a minute to mull over the menu.
I gave him my selection, knowing full well the quality of the meat and Scott’s perfect technique. Ozzy ordered what sounded the fanciest, which turned out to be one of the more straightforward dishes on the menu, and then there was Patrick, who hummed some jaunty Irish tune as he mulled over his options. “It all sounds so… pretentious.”
Sasha nodded. “I recommend the Dukkah-crusted salmon with quinoa and arugula salad. It’s one of our less pretentious dishes.”
Patrick chuckled and tipped his glass to Sasha. “Sounds perfect.”
Peter ordered a relatively simple dish, one I knew would likely make him feel sicker after the fact. I waited until Sasha returned to the kitchen to quietly excuse myself and follow him. The doors swung open, and Sasha smirked at me. “I knew you’d be following, sneaky bitch.”
“I’ve gotta make sure he can handle the meal,” I answered him before turning to address Scott.
“Oooh,” Isaac cooed as he turned. “Somebody looks hot tonight!”
The cooks all joined in, of course. Finally, Scott rolled his eyes and shouted, “Everybody shut the fuck up! She knows she looks good. Spill it Red; what do you need?”
“Sorry to slow down service Chef,” I started. “I just wanted to hand deliver my brother’s order. He’s… He’s got some dietary stuff.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he replied, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. “Give me the list of what he can’t have, and we’ll accommodate, won’t we?”
“Yes, Chef!”
I smiled, accepting the rare sight of Scott’s good side. “Okay, so all meat needs to be cooked through, nothing unpasteurized, no raw sprouts, and he’ll need toned-down spice. Ummm, also, any alcohol needs to be reduced and cooked down fully.”
Scott nodded, double-checking the paper before nodding. “Did everyone get that?”
“Heard, Chef!” The kitchen answered.
He nodded to the kitchen door and smiled, quick and thin. “Don’t sweat it, Red. We’re professionals back here.”
“Thanks, Scott, you’re the best!” I replied quietly, slipping out the kitchen door and making my way back to the table where Patrick was laughing as loud as possible, and Ozzy was struggling to grab hold of the small appetizer on his plate. Again, I giggled, sitting next to Peter. “Having trouble, Oz?”
“Why do they make these things so damn small?” He asked, holding his hands up. “Do these look like dainty baby fingers to you?”
“No,” we all answered.
“No!” He reaffirmed with a shake of his head as he grabbed his fork and stabbed into the small food item. “Fuck manners.”
Peter smiled at me. “Did you get the menu off your chest?”
With a nod, I sighed. “Sorry, I know I’m being extra about it all, but-”
“But you just want to make sure I get to enjoy this,” he finished. “I know, Lee, and I appreciate it. I appreciate all of you making tonight happen.”
“It’s the least we could give you,” Ozzy assured him. “Besides, I know how badly you’ve wanted to meet our girl’s work friends.”
Patrick lifted his wine to his lips. “Jake,” he muttered before tipping the glass back and sloppily sucking up the rich liquid.
I kicked his shin. “Shut up. And stop chugging the wine, you animal.”
While we waited for our food, Peter watched the dining room, the servers specifically. Though his eyes always seemed to follow one in particular. Simone smiled at us as she passed by, dropping off her plates of food and making polite small talk with her table, doing everything to earn those tips. Peter leaned over after she’d disappeared through the kitchen doors. “She’s the one that reminds you of mom?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “How’d you know?”
“She reminds me of her too.” Peter laughed. “It’s weird seeing another person like her just out and about.”
“We’ll keep our distance,” I assured him.
The food was terrific, though I’d expected no less from Scott. Peter cleared his plate, a sight I was glad to see after months of half-eaten food and hearing him vomit from the other room. He was really here, a bit pale and skinny but eating… But getting better. For a minute, all I could do was stare at him, thanking whatever gods or beings I could that my brother was still here.
Ozzy and Patrick blew through the wine, happily grumbling about how delicious the food was and how stuffed they were. Patrick unbuttoned his pants, “Feels like I just spent an hour with Nana.”
“Stop that!” I hissed, trying not to laugh.
“Sorry, sis, gotta make some room, or I’ll bust.”
Peter tapped my arm. “Hey, do me a favor?”
“No booze.”
“I know,” he insisted. “I just want to sniff it. Come on, Lee, let me live through you.”
“Fine,” I caved. “Which one?”
“Irish whiskey.”
“Of course,” I groaned, turning and making my way to the bar. Jake smiled, polishing a glass. “Got any Irish whiskey?”
He nodded. “Course. Didn’t take you for a whiskey, lady.”
“I’m not.” I nodded to Peter. “He loves it, though.”
My brother took his time, opting to listen to a story Ozzy started telling before meeting me at that bar. “So,” Jake started. “I knew you had a brother, but I didn’t know he was sick.”
I sloshed my drink around for a few seconds. “Yeah. He’ll pull through. Pete’s a fighter.”
“Why keep it a secret?”
“Didn’t want the pity.” I looked at him and chuckled. “Admit it, you pitied me a little when you realized he was sick.”
“Alright, fair point.”
“It just… Never sits well with me how everyone pities me and apologizes when I’m not sick.” I shook my head. “Peter is the one that has to live with it, that has to fight. He deserves respect and pity and everything in between.”
Peter sat down next to me, pulling the drink from my hand, lifting the glass to his nose, and inhaling deeply. “Ahh, that’s the good stuff.”
I put my hand on the glass when he pressed his lips to it. “No.”
“Just a little sip?” He begged.
“A tiny one,” I relented, loosening my hold on the glass only for him to tip it almost all the way back. “Peter!”
He chuckled, swallowing the rich liquid with a wince. “Sorry, sis, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Asshole,” I grumbled, pulling what remained in the glass away from him. Nicky chuckled. “Don’t encourage him!”
Patrick sat down on the opposite side of me and sighed. “Loosen up. One little drink won’t kill him.”
“No, but I might.”
“I’ve got to get back to the bar,” Ozzy said, pressing a kiss to my head and giving the boys a clap on the shoulder. “See you, kids, tomorrow! Try not to stay out too late. You make sure they rest, Lena.”
“When did she get put in charge?” Patrick complained.
“Since you chugged the wine!” Ozzy replied.
“Goodnight, Oz,” the three of us called after him.
With the last guests gone, everyone slowly began filtering down from the locker room. They all approached Peter with smiles and friendly handshakes. Sasha finally got to tell his story of meeting my sickly brother, and I introduced them all as best I could until I got to an unfamiliar face.
“And this is…” I looked more carefully at the girl standing in front of me. Dark hair, a round face, and a nervous smile. “I don’t actually know this one.”
“Olive,” she said with a giggle. “I just started.”
Smiling back, I offered her my hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Lena. I usually work in the kitchen.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said quietly. “You must be pretty good to be working in the kitchen.”
Laughing, I shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I’m sure you’ll pick things up quickly.”
She looked around with awe in her eyes. “I hope so. This place is amazing.”
“That it is,” Simone said, smiling at Peter and holding her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet Lena’s family.” Her eyes trailed down his ill-fitting suit. “Though judging by the attire, it was last minute.”
Peter shook his head. “Not last minute. These idiots had their outfits picked out last week.”
Simone’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Oh, forgive me. I just assumed since it seems you hadn’t had the time to tailor the suit.”
Here we go, I thought to myself as Peter hid a smirk. “Oh, this used to fit me great. I lost quite a bit of weight recently. Leukemia is a bitch like that.”
Her face fell as she scrambled to apologize. I slapped his arm lightly and spoke to him in Irish, “Don’t make jokes like that.”
“It was funny,” He insisted. “Plus, she’s a bitch.”
I rolled my eyes. “No more cancer jokes, asshole.”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Sorry, my humor can be a bit… abrasive.” 
Simone cleared her throat and nodded. “It’s quite alright.” She caught Howard’s gaze and smiled. “Walk me home, Howard?”
The tall manager nodded. “Of course, goodnight changelings!”
“Now that the boring ones are gone,” Sasha began with a wide smirk. “Let’s give our guests a true party!”
Nicky rolled his eyes. “You hooligans forget I don’t have all night to sit around and clean up after you.”
I stood, downing the rest of my whisky, and headed around the bar. “Get outta here, Nicky, Jake, and I will clean up and close it all down.”
“Oh, will we?” Jake questioned with raised brows.
“Yep,” I answered sweetly as I kissed Nicky’s cheek. “Go on.”
Nicky looked over at Jake, who shook his head and shrugged. “You heard her. We got it.”
“Thanks,” he replied, giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t break anything!”
I tied half my hair up to keep it out of my face and smiled over the bar at Sasha. “What do you want, prince Sasha?”
He beamed. “God, I love you!”
Jake and I worked side by side for a while, though he spent most of his time behind the bar answering the slew of questions the new girl asked him. She leaned over the side of the bar closest to the kitchen, showing off her cleavage and batting her eyes at him whenever he glanced her way. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the high-pitched praises she lamented to him, clearly looking to stroke more than his ego. Patrick wiggled his eyebrows at my slightly irritated face while Peter’s smile thinned into a straight line as he watched me from the other side of the bar.
Prue skipped through the front door before I could ask him what was wrong. She happily tracked Will down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before running to Peter and pulling him into her arms for a tight hug. Quinn smirked as she tossed something over the bar before giving my brother an equally loving hug. I caught the peach with relative ease. My brows furrowed. “No. Quinn, come on!”
“Yep!” Quinn said smugly, sitting down across from me. “I decree that The Peach Soiree will be held in one week’s time. Payback for not returning my calls when you left.”
Everyone looked at us like we were crazy, but Scott was the one to ask it outright, “What the hell is The Peach Soiree?”
I sighed, setting the peach down on the counter. “It’s a party kind of. We each get to be in charge of one every year.”
“Mine is The Peach Soiree,” Quinn said with glee winking at Ari. “I’m an ass girl.”
“Prue’s is The Melon Matinee,” I continued. “She throws hers at the beginning of the year because she’s impatient.”
Prue made a noise and quickly signed, “Fuck you.”
Quinn said, laughing, “And our lovely little Lena’s is The Cherry Gala.”
“Why cherry?” Jake asked, looking over at me with a sly grin. “Let me guess, the hair?”
“Nope,” I replied, making sure to pop the P.
“Wait, have they not seen what you can do with cherry stems?” Quinn asked with a shocked and delighted face.
I groaned and threw the peach at her. “You’re the worst! You know that, right?”
Jake turned with that devilish air of absolute curiosity that told me he wouldn’t let this go anytime soon. “Cherry stems, huh?”
“Yeah,” I answered, sliding Sasha his drink. “It’s not that impressive.”
“Let’s just say she’s good with her tongue,” Quinn teased. “She’d make a great lesbian.”
I pointed at her with a poorly concealed grin. “One more word, and I won’t offer to get your little soiree a reservation.”
Her mouth hung open, and her eyes shifted to large puppy dog eyes. “OH PLEASE!!! It would be so perfect, Lena! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it if you shut up!”
“My lips are sealed,” she answered, dragging her long, manicured nail over her lips.
Jake leaned on the bartop. “So when’s your party?”
“Next year.”
“She used hers a few months ago,” Quinn said before remembering her promise.
“Was it any fun?”
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “I thought it was.”
He sighed, “Come on, princess. You gotta give me more than that.”
Quinn’s eyes grew wide at the nickname. I ignored her and Prue, looking at Jake with a smug smile. “I don’t, though.”
“That’s just cruel.” His eyes slid down to my lips. “You at least gonna show me that cherry trick?”
“It’s really not that impressive.”
Sasha rolled his eyes, reaching over the bar and clamoring around for the cherry jar. “Enough foreplay!” He set the jar in my hand and winked. “Show us what that talented tongue does, sassy Tiger!”
I shook my head, opening the jar and ignoring the hoops and hollers that filled the bar. I pulled two cherries free of the stems and showed them to everyone before popping them into my mouth. My tongue worked the top into a knot with ease before I turned it and did the same to the bottom, finishing the not-so-impressive heart shape by shoving my tongue between the two stems and bending the top with a tiny bit of pressure. Pulling it out of my mouth, I showed the group the little cherry stem heart and set it down on the bar top. “There. Like I said, not very impressive.”
Ari gave me a look as she fanned herself. “That was so hot.”
Quinn shot her a teasing look and laughed as Ari pinched her arm. Sasha clapped loudly. “Tiger Bitch you never fail!”
Jake picked the cherry stem heart up and looked at it for a minute before he turned to tease me. “That’s cute.”
“Shut up,” I groaned, trying to flick it out between his fingers. But instead, he moved it out of the way and laughed as I shoved him toward the kitchen. “Go get changed, loser.”
*
He squeezed past the busty, doe-eyed girl as she smiled, batting her eyelashes at him, and went upstairs to follow Lena’s advice and change. When he opened his locker to find the familiar sleek black leather of his jacket, Jake smiled. How the hell did she even get this up here? Her perfume was all over it, covering up the boozy musk he’d been so used to the old thing reeking of. God, he wanted to keep it to his nose and burn that smell into his sinuses.
After he changed into a simple T-shirt and jeans, he slid the jacket over his shoulders and put the cherry stem heart in his pocket, already thinking of how much fun he’d have pulling it out to randomly tease his little redhead. The doorway filled with the familiar copper-haired brute and the thinner bald man. Patrick and Peter looked around for a minute before they looked at each other. “You wanna start, or should I?
Peter scoffed, “I’m the oldest. I’ll start.”
“There a problem?” Jake asked calmly. If they’d wanted to kick his ass, Patrick certainly would have done it by now.
“Not yet,” Patrick replied, keeping his arm out as Peter took a step forward.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” the brother said with a grin. “Oz and Pat have been pretty good at keeping me in the loop regarding you and my little sister.”
Jake shook his head, leaning back against his locker. “There’s not much to tell. We’re friends.”
Patrick rolled his eyes, mumbling something in a different language that made Peter chuckle. “Friends is hardly the word I’d use to describe you two. But I don’t care what you call it so long as one thing stays the same. You respect her.”
“God knows she’s had enough of dumb little pretty boys taking advantage of her,” Patrick added, giving him a stern look, not unlike the ones he’d been giving him from the start. 
“Listen, Jake,” Peter continued. “I know, my sister. I know she comes off as this strong, indestructible force of nature that can kick anyone’s ass, and that doesn’t feel a damn thing.” He winced as he shifted, balancing himself on Patrick’s waiting arm. “Lena is strong… She is one of the strongest people I know, but she’s still human. It still hurts when people she cares about let her down.”
“And you think she cares about me?” He asked, trying to sound amused to cover up the way he genuinely wanted to know.
Patrick nodded, quietly making sure Peter wouldn’t fall. “She doesn’t bring just anyone to the old place, and she’s brought you more than enough times. Even talked about pops.”
“She also shared Cape Cod with you.” Peter nodded. “Yeah, I know about that. If she trusts you with that, then it means something. So, I’ll just cut to the chase to make a long conversation short. You hurt her, and I will kill you. Dom will be on board. He already isn’t too fond of you, so making it look like an accident or some bs will be a breeze.”
Jake looked at the thin, sickly man whose suit hung off him in a way that would typically be comedic. He could take Peter down with one light push if he wanted to. But, instead, he remembered how Lena spoke of him, of the big brother that loved to box and was kind and good. Peter may not have looked like a boxer now, but the rest remained true. So, Jake took his warning with a humble nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
A smile spread on his face as he nodded. “Good. Now let’s go before she realizes we’ve been sneaky.”
Patrick helped him back down the stairs sparing Jake a last look over his shoulder. It was a quick and simple look of gratitude as he nodded his head to Jake that made him feel weird. He’d never had someone like Patrick’s approval… never had someone’s big brother treat him with respect instead of just chasing him out of his one-night stands with cuss words and physical threats. Jake held back a minute to sit in the feeling before putting on his black beanie and going back downstairs.
*
“Where to now, big brother?” I asked when Peter and Patrick returned from the bathroom. “The night is yours.”
Peter shrugged for a minute. “The old arcade?”
Sasha clapped his hands together. “I’ve never been to an American arcade! Is it shit?”
Patrick laughed, “Absolutely!”
“Can we come?” The Russian pleaded, his studded sleeves catching in the light as he brought his hands together to beg. “Please, little sick boy!”
“Everyone is more than welcome to come,” Peter insisted. “The more, the merrier, I always say. Unless the more are doctors, then it’s not as fun.”
Jake strode out from the kitchen, wearing his leather jacket and a simple black beanie. It was stupid how happy seeing him back in the jacket I’d bribed Isaac into sneaking into his locker. I hadn’t noticed before how well it suited him… how good he really looked in it. His lips curled into a smile as he caught my blatant stare. “Arcade?” I blurted out. “You coming with?”
“Aren’t those for kids?” He asked.
“They’re fun,” I insisted. “You coming or not, grumpy?”
Sasha leaned over the counter and tugged on Jake’s hat. “Come on, grumpy Jake! Join us in being children tonight!”
“You’re a child every night, Sasha,” Jake retorted, fixing his hat.
“I have to stop by my place to change,” I told Peter and Patrick as they started heading toward the door. “Please, for the love of god, tell me you two are going to change too.”
They laughed but nodded. Patrick waved his hand at me. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to ruin my suit!”
“See you there?” Peter asked, checking his watch. “Ten minutes?”
“See you in ten.”
Quinn nodded toward Prue and Will. “I’m catching a ride with them.”
“Se you there. Don’t let them fuck in the back of the cab!”
“On it!” She yelled back before disappearing out the door after Will and Prue.
I pointed to the rest of the group. “I can help cover cab fare with anyone that needs it, but I’ve gotta run home first.”
Sasha and Ari quickly raised their hands. “We want to see your apartment!”
“Why?” I asked.
“We have a bit of a bet going,” Ari admitted.
Sasha nodded, smirking. “I think you live like I do, filthy with sex toys and lingerie everywhere!”
Ari rolled her eyes. “And I think you’re a neat freak with drawers dedicated to your dirty sexy little secrets.”
“You two are nuts,” I replied. “But come on.”
“Got room for one more?” Jake asked.
I smiled. “I thought you were above the arcade.”
“I never said that,” he answered. “Can I ride with you or not?”
“Sure, just try not to let us children get on your nerves too much.”
The cab ride was pretty short, and before I knew it, I was leading two loud, obviously, already kind of drunk individuals up my front steps. Jake followed behind them quietly, taking in the sights of my building’s newly painted hallway as I unlocked my front door. Sasha and Ari scurried inside like two hyperactive dogs, quickly looking around to confirm or deny their bets. Once Jake stepped over the thresh hold, I closed the door and flipped on the lights. “Tada. Is it everything you hoped it would be?”
Sasha pouted as he handed Ari a twenty-dollar bill. “I’m disappointed in you, Tiger Bitch. I thought you’d be more of a mess.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” I replied, patting his cheek as I passed. My apartment was nothing special. Most of my essential belongings were in my old bedroom above the gym, safely tucked away with two of the people I trusted most. Jake went straight for the bookshelf, leafing through my collection while Sasha and Ari opened drawers and cabinets randomly, trying to sniff out my secrets. “Make yourselves at home. I’ll just be a minute.”
I closed my bedroom door behind me, quickly fishing out my comfiest pair of jeans and a simple long-sleeved shirt from my drawers. Tossing them onto my bed, along with my comfortable shoes, I started trying to attempt the zipper on my dress. I could barely reach it, but no matter how much I pulled or wiggled the damn thing, it didn’t budge. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, I kicked off my shoes and opened my door.
“Hey,” I called out into the living room, turning my back to the now-open door. “Someone help me with this piece of shit zipper?”
I’d expected Ari or Sasha to come to my aid, but a familiarly rough hand settled on my back, and his smokey smell wafted around me. Jake’s fingers carefully brushed my hair over my shoulder, skimming the strip of exposed skin and causing a ripple of pleasure to shoot down my spine. I held in the unholy noise that threatened to make him even more smug and unbearable in his flirtatious pursuit. He pulled on the zipper a few times before it finally loosened, and the warm pads of his fingers glided down my spine, following the shape of the snake tattooed there until he stopped at the middle of my back. “Think you can get it the rest of the way from here?”
Swallowing the heated lump in my throat, I looked at him over my shoulder, smiling like a dumbass. “Yeah, I can get it. Thanks.”
Jake smirked, his eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of my bare back. “No problem, princess.”
Damn him and that stupid nickname. I slid back behind the safety of my bedroom door, closing it with a quiet sigh. He’s just a friend. I reminded myself. Don’t be a dummy, you fucking dummy! I double-checked that the door was closed before sliding the dress off and shoving on my less-revealing clothes. I washed the makeup off my face and fixed a few puffed-up sections of my hair, securing the half updo and heading back to my living room.
Sasha and Ari were raccoons, sniffing through my kitchen and pulling my couch apart. Jake leaned against the wall by my door, reading one of the books he’d pulled off my shelf. “Sasha! Put my couch back together!”
“Where are the sex toys?” He whined. “I know they’re here!”
“Leave my sex toys alone, you Russian raccoon. Ari, don’t eat all my crackers.”
“Sorry,” she said with a mouthful of food. “I’m so high right now.”
Jake raised his brow. “What, no scolding for me?”
I shook my head. “I’m just as surprised as you.”
“Hemmingway?” He asked, lifting up the book. 
“It’s a classic.” I pulled it out of his hands and set it on the shelf. “Alright, let’s go. The arcade is just a little ways past Ozzy’s.”
Ari groaned. “We’re walking?”
“You walk everywhere,” I reminded her, practically shoving them all out my door and locking it behind me.
“I’m really high, though,” she laughed, leaning against Sasha.
He waved us on. “I’ve got her. Just lead the way.”
Jake and I took up the front, casually tagging one another at random and making small talk about the neighborhood and the arcade. It got easier to ignore the loud remarks Ari and Sasha made about Jake and Is “upcoming fucking" as they liked to call it. Though I could tell they made Jake tense up more each time.
The old arcade light shone brightly across the street, where the rest of our group huddled together, waiting. “There you are!” Heather rolled her eyes and slid beneath Sasha’s waiting arm. “These people are insane!”
“You can say that again,” the Russian agreed.
“Hey, Jake,” Olive chirped with an awkward wave.
His brows furrowed, but he waved back regardless as we made our way inside. It was shitty; old arcades usually were around here. You could practically taste the burnt pizza crust and cheap soda that was always just a little too watered down. Lights were on in every corner, flashing and dashing and everything in between. It was chaos. The chaos screamed with some of my few good memories from childhood.
I’d spent hours here on weeks when I was with my dad and the boys. We’d all spend the day running errands for Nana to earn enough change to buy some coins. Patrick rigged every game he touched, winning hundreds of tokens and ending up with the biggest prizes. Peter worshiped laser tag and got crazy good at it, while I just enjoyed the sounds and the freedom.
Breathing in the shitty air, I smiled. “God, this place is great.”
“It’s interesting,” Jake said quietly, analyzing the don’t room. “You spend a lot of time here?”
“When I was with my dad,” I admitted. “The three of us used to be quite the hit around here. Quinn too.
“I can imagine.”
Nudging him, I gestured to everything. “You ever get to waste time in a shit hole like this?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Simone hates these places, so she always found some excuse to keep me far away.”
The anger I felt toward Simone grew at that moment. Denying Jake so much of his childhood over something as minor as her own opinion was selfish. Though it wasn’t surprising considering the woman’s need for control. My brothers and Will stood by the door to the laser tag arena, their eyes lighting up as they caught mine, waving me over to get me to join their game. “So… You’ve never played laser tag before?”
“Nope,” he said.
They waved me over again, big eyes begging as they shouted please at me. “Come on then. You’re gonna lose your laser tag virginity.”
Jake rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Am I?”
“Come on,” I pleaded. “You’re being such a grump!”
“I’d be far less grumpy if I was drunk.”
“You gotta give this place a real shot. Come on!” I grinned. “I’ll let you be on my team.”
Finally, he gave in and nodded. “Fine, one game. But you owe me.”
I scoffed. “Resorting to extortion? That’s a new low.”
“Low but effective.”
“Alright, I’ll owe you. Now, let's go.”
Olive slipped into the group, evening out the teams. We all stood in the back room, getting fitted into our vests and assigned our guns. Olive, Jake, and I were on the blue team, while my brothers and Will were on the red team. The employees gave a very dull presentation on the game's safety and the rules while Patrick and I made faces at each other and silent threats with our hands.
“Don’t be fooled by Peter’s sickly appearance,” I warned, making sure my vest fit snuggly. “He’s an absolute powerhouse at laser tag.”
Jake smirked, overconfident. “Yeah?”
I slapped his arm. “Yeah, and he’s not gonna go easy on you, first time or not. Don’t even try to go up against Patrick. That asshole is insane, and he’s not afraid to throw a punch or two to win.”
“Sounds like you guys really hate losing.”
“We’re competitive,” I replied. “Especially when losers have to treat.”
“Competitive and cheap,” he said with a laugh. “You Harrows are somethin’ else.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped forward, tightening one of his straps. Then, looking up at him through my lashes, I smiled, “Try to keep up grumpy.”
Olive cleared her throat and stepped up closer to us. “This is gonna be awesome, right?”
I stepped back and laughed. “Absolutely.”
Patrick narrowed his eyes at me, sticking his tongue out. Then, he shouted in Irish, “Your little boyfriend’s ass is mine, girly!”
“Not if I get your ass first!” I shouted back, flipping him off. “Pete, try not to overdo it!” Peter rolled his eyes, carefully following the employee back to their respective starts. 
The laser tag arena was two floors of walls, both large and short, with holes in various spots for aiming. The three of us stood on the far end, against the blue wall. From there, I could see the red wall peaking up over the second floor. The lights dimmed, and the neons glowed brighter, illuminating the shitty pattern on the carpet and casting all of us in a glow of ugly bright colors. Jake didn’t look ugly, though. As I turned to look up at him, I couldn’t ignore how the blue brought out his eyes and how the haze of greens, reds, and yellows made him look like he’d been carved from stone. 
He looked down at me with a smile, one of the rare ones that wasn’t some shit-eating smirk that followed his quips or the stiff ones I was convinced he smiled just because it was expected of him. “Better stay close, Red,” he said, tugging on a strand of my slightly luminous hair. I rolled my eyes and waited for the countdown and the vests' buzz, signaling the game's start. 
Peter would stay low. He had the energy to play, but that didn’t mean he had the energy to climb to the next level or down when the game ended. Patrick would go high, he always did to try to get some kind of advantage on the other team, and he liked jumping down and scaring people. And then there was Will. Will was the wildcard. I hadn’t played with him before, but he seemed like the type that would be surprisingly good at the game.
It began in earnest when the fog machines kicked in with that familiar hissing sound. We walked forward, and Olive practically curled into Jake’s side, not even bothering to keep her gun up. Peter’s vest peeked out from one of the barricades as he swiftly vanished in the fog. I stopped, quickly aiming and shooting the lit-up red vest just as Patrick jumped down, trying to catch us off-guard. He made a fuss for a moment before he grinned as Peter and Will emerged behind us.
Olive went down easy as Jake and I dodged to the side, squeezing into a little covered half circle. Chest to chest, I could smell his lightly spiced cologne and smoke as I looked up and smiled. “This close enough for you?”
Jake hummed, pressing himself even closer to me. “Not nearly close enough.”
“Peter’s the one to worry about.” I turned my head away from his intense gaze, looking at the little section I could see. “If Will’s smart, he’ll be going up top to try and get a better view.”
“I go high, you go low?” He asked.
“It’s a decent plan,” I answered.
He nodded to the dark foggy arena. “Let’s go then. I’d hate to owe your brothers a drink.”
I slipped out first, going right where Peter had been last. Glancing back at Jake, who headed left toward the upper level, I admired the bright smile on his face and the gleam of a childhood dream being fulfilled. My brother was moving slower than usual, which led us to our stalemate, him behind one of the erect barriers and me behind one of the kneeling ones. “Having fun, Pete?”
“I’m about to kick your ass at laser tag. Of course, I’m having fun!”
With a laugh I stood, aiming my gun at the barrier he should have been behind, only to have him jump out from a different one and hit square on the sensor. “Damn! You’re moving quicker than I thought!”
He shrugged. “I’ll admit I have had to resort to some of Patrick’s trickery.”
His vest flashed as a laser from up top hit the sensor. Jake smirked down at us. “Trickery aside, that was a good game.”
Peter nodded. “Looks like we owe you two a drink.”
“Don’t worry about it tonight,” I said, patting my brother on the back. “We’ll demand payment in two or three business days.”
“How considerate of you.”
In the back room where we removed our gear, Olive chattered about how fun the game was and how amazing Jake did. A heavy pit began to form in my chest as I watched her hop on her feet, drawing Jake’s eyes to the low neckline of her top and the very obvious cleavage that practically spilled out of it. It was a decent move to get a man's attention, one I couldn’t fault her for taking advantage of, but something about it bothered me. I felt… disappointed… disappointed that he looked? No. I shook my head and smiled as Jake turned to look at me. “Good game. You’re now officially no longer a laser tag virgin.”
“It was pretty straightforward,” he answered. “But it was nice having a seasoned vet in my corner.”
The six of us returned to the main lobby, purchasing coins and slowly making our way through various games. Quinn pulled me onto the dance machine next to her the second I tried to slide past. “Dance with me!”
“You dance all night for a living,” I teased. “How can you have the energy for this?”
“I have godly stamina,” she replied, winking at Ari. “You know that, Lee.”
“Alright, bring it on, stamina goddess!”
Both of us bobbed to the music that played over the shitty surround system, barely even looking at the screens before we started moving our feet. Left. Left. Right. Back. Right. Front. It brought me back to when Quinn and I first started hanging out. The wild nights of her and I ripping up the arcade with Patrick and Peter until Dad and Ozzy eventually came to drag us home. 
She grabbed my hand, belting out the song's words and urging me to give in to the music. “Move your hips, Lena, just like I taught you!” Through the others gathered around cheering us on, I could feel Jake’s eyes. Unlike the many times before, this time, there was a rush to have captured his gaze. It made my face burn and my heartbeat quicken ever so slightly as I tried to focus on the moves, not him.
Quinn won. She always won; of course, when she did, she was unbearable about it. “HA!” She cheered, jumping up and down, shaking her ass at me. “And that is why stamina is important, kids!”
I slapped her hip and hopped down. Patrick took my place and grinned at her. “Let’s go, Quinny.”
Prue waved me to where she and Will stood next to Jake and Olive at the mini golf course. “Grab a putter and come with us!”
Jake clapped his hands together. “Quite the show you gave us, princess.”
I followed Prue’s instructions and smirked at him. “Never would have pegged you for a golf guy.”
“I’m not,” he admitted. “Prue’s convincing, though.”
“Yeah, she’s good at dragging people to do stuff.” I swung my putter around a little. “What’d she bribe you with?”
“Secrets,” Jake whispered, smacking my putter with his.
I rolled my eyes. “Liar. Prue’s an angel. No amount of golf could convince her to sell my secrets.”
Jake shrugged. “Maybe, but I can be convincing too.”
Prue and Will headed inside, leading the group in the shittiest and shortest mini-golf course. Jake was surprisingly shit at it, which made the whole thing much more fun. Olive was good, clearly coming from that family that always went mini golfing on vacations, but she purposefully stuck back. I bit my lip, watching her stand just a little too close to Jake as he lined up his shot. Prue rubbed my arm and quietly asked, “You good?”
I finished the final hole and smiled at her. “I’m good.”
The employee looked at my card and gave me a string of tickets as I exited and headed toward the ticket counter. I didn’t want to focus on how I felt seeing Olive glued to Jake’s side all night. I didn’t want to admit that maybe… just maybe, the little green monster had bitten my ass while I wasn’t looking. Even worse, I didn’t want to admit that the little green monster was only a symptom of a much larger and much more complicated feeling. So instead, I waited for them to count my tickets and give me whatever shitty prize I’d won. 
From the front, I could see everyone laughing with each other as they moved from one game to another. Sasha had his arms around Ari and Heather, pointing out how most game names could be dirty if you said them right. Peter sat in his wheelchair, tossing the small basketballs across the long game toward the hoop. He was good, but I could see the effort it took him now to keep getting the ball through the hoop. Patrick stood beside him, tossing balls, each one missing completely. 
Jake strolled out of the mini-golf section and put his gear away before making his way to my side. “Finally finished?”
Leaning against the counter, he replied, “I told you I’m not a golf guy.”
“Yeah, well, a little golf didn’t kill you,” I teased. “Got any tickets to cash in?”
“You actually keep those?” He questioned with a raised brow.
“Hell yeah!” I insisted, nodding to the wall of cheap toys. “I wouldn’t miss out on this goldmine.”
He chuckled, watching the man behind the counter finish counting and pull a little stuffed frog out from beneath the counter. “This is what I’ve got for thirty tickets.”
I giggled, looking at the tiny crooked crown, its angry face, and its too-long limbs. “It’s perfect, thank you.” Then, turning to present the stuffed animal to Jake, I grinned. “See? Who wouldn’t want this?”
He nodded along. “It’s quite the prize for all your hard work. You gonna name it too?”
Humming, I looked at the little angry frog face and laughed. “I think I’ll call him Jake.”
Jake laughed and shook his head. “How creative.”
“He even looks like you,” I replied, showing him the grumpy face and laughing harder.
“Jake!” Olive called out, hurrying from the golf cave with a handful of tickets. “You forgot your tickets.”
With a sigh, he took them from her hands and tossed them over the counter to the employee, who started counting them. “Thanks.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at him. “This has been quite a night, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he answered, barely looking at her. “It’s been fun.”
“I thought arcades were too childish for your adult tastes,” I responded. “Is this you admitting that maybe I was right?”
He rolled his eyes. “It is childish, but I guess I liked it more than I thought I would.”
I nodded. “Soooo, I was right?”
Jake laughed and shook his head but relented all the same. “You were right.”
The employee finished counting the tickets and set another frog on the counter. “Here’s your prize.”
Jake looked at the frog with a wide grin before he turned it around to show it to me. His frog had a similar crown but had exaggerated red lips and long eyelashes with little stars in its eyes. “Aww, you got a cute one! You gonna name it?”
“I think I’ll call her Lena,” he replied with a shit-eating grin. “Even looks like you.”
“Oh ha ha,” I answered, swatting his cheek with my frog. “You’re hilarious.”
Olive stood close by us, awkwardly waiting for an opening to show off the simple eraser she’d gotten with her handful of tickets before she politely asked Jake to show her how a game worked. He stuffed his frog into his pocket and walked back into the game section of the arcade as I found a nearby place to sit to give my feet a break. Quinn slid into the seat across from mine, turning to glare at the dark-haired girl across the room. “Are we fucking this bitch up or not?”
“What are you on about?” I asked with a nervous laugh.
“Uhh, the new bitch that’s been glued to your man’s side all night, twirling her hair and touching up on him.” She elaborated as Prue sat beside me.
“That bitch needs to go down,” she signed. “Touching his chest. Putting her dirty hoe ass hands on YOUR jacket!”
I rolled my eyes and swallowed that annoying sense of possessive jealousy that had threatened to overtake me all night. The one I was NOT entitled to feel. “Jake isn’t my man, and the jacket is his. If he wants to flirt with her, he can. He should! We’re just friends.”
Quinn shook her head, pointing to my face. “Ohhh, you’re fuckin pissed!”
“I am not!”
Prue smoothed a finger down the tight crease in between my eyebrows. “Damn, she better back off before you send her to a morgue!”
I rolled my eyes at her and shoved Quinn’s finger down with a sigh. “Listen, Jake is a big boy. He is free to make his own decisions. We’re. Just. Friends.”
The two looked at one another before rolling their eyes. “Right, just friends, whatever you wanna call it, Lee.”
They leaned back, giving me a clear view of Olive giggling at whatever he’d said and tugging on the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him toward some game. This was dumb. Irrational even. Jake was my friend, a friend I liked because friends like each other. It didn’t mean I liked him or had any reason to be angry that someone else liked him too. On the contrary, Jake was fun to be around and fun to flirt with, and I was not the only one entitled to enjoy those things.
After my feet felt a bit less sore, I returned to the fun. Olive now stood with everyone else, watching Sasha and Patrick battle it out on the dance machine. Jake wasn’t with them. I tapped Olive’s shoulder, asking over the noise, “Where’d Jake go?”
She shrugged. “We were over there by the older arcade games. When I turned around to ask him which one he wanted to try, he was gone. I figured he was with you.”
I ignored the snark in her tone and followed her finger over to where she’d said they were when she lost track of him. The annoyingly jaunty tune from the old Swimmer arcade game echoed in my ear as I looked at the group of teenagers attempting to play it. The small figure of the man hit a log before slowly sinking into the water. Game over. Shit. I hurried toward the nearest bathroom, hoping Jake was as easy to predict as I was in moments of panic.
“Jake?” I knocked on the bathroom door before slowly pushing it open just enough that he could hear me. “Jake? It’s Lena.” All I could hear for a minute was the sound of the water running, but the longer I stood in the doorway, the more obvious the uneven sound of his breathing got. “I’m gonna come in… Okay?”
He didn’t speak as I opened the door and quickly shut it behind me. Jake sat on the floor, his face wet and his chest heaving with the effort each sharp breath he sucked in took. I knelt down in front of him, taking up the space between his legs. “Can you tell me what you need?”
Jake shook his head, eyes glossy with tears he refused to let fall. “That’s okay,” I assured him. “Let’s just focus on breathing.” I slowly took hold of his hand and pressed it to my chest, sliding closer to him. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”
He nodded.
“Can you feel my breaths?”
He nodded again.
“Good. Now just try and breathe with me, okay?” I took deep, slow breaths counting quietly out loud to give him some kind of audible distraction. After a few minutes, his breathing began to match my own. “There you go. Just focus on breathing.” Jake’s blue eyes watched me closely, a fear I was familiar with staring back at me. I hadn’t seen this side of him before, and I had no idea what he needed, so I just squeezed his hand and smiled at him, calm and gentle. “You’re here,” I told him, imagining all the times my dad had said the same to me. “You’re safe with me.”
That did something. The fear slowly shifted to a deep look of relief, and then just as quickly, his eyes tore away from me, and his face burned with embarrassment and frustration. I didn’t move, not even when he pulled his hand away from my chest, setting the still, slightly shaking limb on his knee as he flattened his legs out. After a moment of silence, he spoke, voice slightly off. “You can go now. I’m fine.”
“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” I said softly. The unspoken message was communicated as I retook hold of his hand. I’m here.
Jake chuckled breathlessly. “Not for me.”
“Why not?” I asked. He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes trained on the wall. For a minute, I just let him catch his breath before I squeezed his hand. “You’re human too, Jake. And after everything that’s happened… That biker asshole punching you and my shit in Cape Cod combined with your own Cape-related stuff. So understandably, you’d be feeling overwhelmed.”
Jake sighed. “It’s so fucking stupid. All this over a dumb arcade game.”
“It’s not stupid.” I stroked my thumb over the back of his hand. “It took me years to get over that shitty fake drowning animation. I still can’t go swimming. No matter how shallow the water is, I always feel like I’m going to sink.” His eyes held the understanding that his face refused to show as he looked at me for a second. “We don’t get to choose what affects us. We just have to do our best to get through it.”
A cold, empty look settled on his face as he retreated back into the safety of his shell with only a quiet mumbled, “Thank you.” 
“That’s what friends are for,” I answered, slowly withdrawing. “I’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”
He didn’t answer, just nodded stiffly. 
Coming from a place of absolutely no experience with Jake after a panic attack, I couldn’t offer him much, and it was likely even he didn’t know what he needed. Some space was all I could really give him. And even that didn’t feel like enough. He was my friend, and though he’d opened up to me significantly over the past few months, Jake was still Jake. He was closed off and private about the serious stuff. Even after everything I’d shared with him, he’d given me the bare minimum about himself. That was okay. I was prepared to take the friendship at his pace, given his seemingly limited experience with this sort of thing outside Simone’s well-crafted role.
Jake thought he had to do it all alone, just like I did after moving away from my mother. I was determined to show him he didn’t, just like my dad and Oz and Peter and Patrick had shown me. I didn’t have to suffer alone, and neither did Jake. I kept the group busy while Jake took whatever time he needed, which evidently wasn’t much. It took him all of five minutes to slip out of the bathroom and silently make his way to the door, leaving without a word to anyone. I watched him go, quietly hoping he’d be okay. 
The night dragged on, and no one commented on Jake’s absence. He’d done this a lot, I’d gathered. Finally, when the arcade closed for the night, everyone parted ways. Peter was exhausted though he’d never openly admit it, and Patrick had efficiently worn him out too. I helped them get home, opting to stay the night in the old apartment just in case Peter needed anything. The three of us collapsed onto Peter’s old bed, now clean with fresh sheets. 
His room was still pretty bare, boxes holding most of his belongings, so none of it got lost while he was away, but the gentle green that painted the walls and the boxing paraphernalia that remained made him smile as he pushed his head into his pillow, fluffing it gently. “I forgot how good real beds feel.”
Patrick rolled onto our legs, trapping us to the bed as he used our limbs to stretch out his back. “Tomorrow, we can continue celebrating, but let’s all just enjoy the peace and quiet for tonight.”
“You enjoy the quiet?” I laughed, lifting my leg to dig my foot into the spot between his shoulders where I knew he held most of his tension. “That’s a good idea, Pat, one of your first!”
“Shut up.”
We laughed for a minute or two before letting the room grow quiet. Outside, the noises of the city were muffled against the sound of Peter’s ceiling fan whirling and the bumping of the old furnace kicking on randomly every few minutes. The sounds of home always helped me drift off, but as I curled into the blankets, Peter mumbled, already half asleep, “I like him.”
“Who?” I asked in a mostly teasing tone. “The arcade guy?”
Peter kicked me. “Jake, you idiot.”
Opening my eyes, I looked at his face, searching for the sarcastic quip that was no doubt coming. Peter was sincere, though, his calm face bathed in the moonlight from his window as he smiled. “You do?”
“He reminds me of you when you still lived with mom.” He shook his head, chuckling. “He seems polite too. Didn’t even laugh when my skinny ass threatened to kill him if he hurt you.”
“When did you do that?”
Patrick groaned from the bottom of the bed. “Did you really think we needed to go to the bathroom?”
I sighed. “You two are idiots. Nothing is happening with Jake and me, so your stupid little threat was pointless.”
Peter just smiled a little wider. “I know you better than anyone, sis. Nothing is going on right now, but you like him.”
“He’s conventionally attractive, but he’s-”
“Your type. Stop pretending you haven’t thought about it.”
“I haven’t,” I insisted. It was a lie, of course, but they didn’t need to hear that.
Patrick laughed, shaking the bed. “Was she always so bad at lying? Or has she just gotten worse over the last few months?”
Peter joined in. “Oh, she’s definitely gotten worse.”
“Fuck both of you,” I replied, trying to kick both of them.
The room grew quiet again, and Peter pulled me into his side, hugging me tightly. “I mean it, though; he seems like an okay guy.”
“Thanks, Pete.” I snuggled into his side, glad to finally have him home again. “Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep. Your sick little ass needs it.”
When my idiot brothers finally closed their eyes and started snoring, I flipped my phone open, scrolling to Jake’s contact and sending a simple message.
Goodnight, Jake.
I lay in bed, watching the hands of the clock until my phone lit up. Relief made the tension I’d been holding onto disappear as I melted into the bed, smiling at his equally simple response.
Goodnight, Lena.
34 notes ¡ View notes
dollwritesarchive ¡ 2 years
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𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 11 / 17 / 2022
𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 accepting requests for anime only ( check pinned post for more details )
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 kinktober requests will still be honored even though i’m finished with kinktober 2022. they will simply be written whenever i can instead ( most may be turned into mini dizzy drabbles writing events when i start those! ). if you sent an anime request and you don’t see it on this list, please feel free to resend it because these are the only ones i have! 💕
ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛɪᴛᴀɴ
𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧
Could we get a corruption kink with Levi Ackerman (aot) for kinktober? 👀 — anonymous
ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ʙᴜᴛʟᴇʀ
𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬
BB Sebastian in his demon form x female reader — stygianoir
ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ sʟᴀʏᴇʀ
𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐮
Could I request fear kink+dacryphilia with enmu 🥰 — anonymous
Hi can I request yandere enmu! Like stalkerish maybe kidnapper enmu? Thanks!! — anonymous
Hi doll so for kinktober how about enmu and somno 👀 as much as I would want to be awake I feel like he would use his power to be able to instantly put people to sleep — anonymous
𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚
Can I request giyu and sex pollen, hes so reserved I wanna see him not be able to control himself lol — anonymous
𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮
Hii not sure if it’s okay to request right now but whenever you have time can I please request nsfw demon Rengoku punishing his shy s/o because he caught her talking to Akaza (although she tried to avoid contact, Akaza knew Rengoku was nearby and he purposely wanted to make him mad 😭) — anonymous
ᴅɪᴀʙᴏʟɪᴋ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀs
𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢
hey could i request ayato sakamaki and cnc 🙏❤️‍🩹 — anonymous
ғɪʀᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ
𝐨𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐮
Not me needing Akitaru Obi calling me his princess whilst he fucks me into the mattress with ally stuffed animals watching. — anonymous
ɪɴᴜʏᴀsʜᴀ
𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐲𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚
InuYasha! I love that dog demon man so much. Can you write him and claiming kink for kinktober? — anonymous
ᴊᴏᴊᴏ’s ʙɪᴢᴀʀʀᴇ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ
𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨
You should def write more Dio, you write him very well! I wanted to request another fic/blurb of you and him during part 1 era, and you are a sacrifice to him by the town — anonymous
Dio Brando x reader with a stand user he napped and is in his mansion and he’s just being his good ol self(I feel like marking and collars would vibe with him) — anonymous
may i politely request some part 3 DIO noncon/exhibitionism with an unwilling virgin reader? i love how you characterize him 🥺💕 — anonymous
𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐚
𝐣𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐤𝐮𝐣𝐨
hi can u write some joot smut where he uses a speculum to gape female readers ass 👉🏼👈🏼 maybe he decides to use her as his human toilet? 🥴 — anonymous
Was also wondering if it wouldn’t be too much, if you could write an nsfw scenario with Jotaro? Preferably with a Spicier ™ reader who’s a bit of a tsundere. Maybe she gets on his nerves on purpose and he dubcons her? Adding some degradation would be *chefs kiss* but you don’t need to! — anonymous
Can we have the stardust crusaders react to walking in on a naked y/n? Reader can keep taking off their clothes if you want extra spice ;) — anonymous
𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐧
Could I pretty please have something a little soft with Kars/the Pillar Men or Dio? Maybe cuddling with the reader or comforting them? I just go feral for big scary men being soft with their lovers 🥺👉👈 — theluckychemist
oh my god, more wild and animalistic pillarmen? No, they're certainly smart, talkative, and can be intelligent, but their possible ancient caveman nature is still there and they have animal habits. Pillarmen growl, hiss, grunt/make other noises, sniff the reader, may bite. They grin during sex or simply grin at the reader, showing a row of sharp teeth of their jaws, threatening her — anonymous
Since you don't write for Speedwagon, could I please change to a pillar men x reader gangbang fic with degradation and spanking? — anonymous
𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐢𝐜𝐞
thinking about vanilla ice cucking me while dio watches....(if you write for vanilla ice ofc) AGHH — anonymous
ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛsᴜ ᴋᴀɪsᴇɴ
𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
How about cucking with Husband! Geto x fem reader x Gojo? Or you can add another character of your choice? Thank you 💕— joyfulenthusiastwitch
𝐦𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨
For kinktober what about mahito with predator prey 👀 and when he finally catches you obviously it would be like dubcon or noncon whatever you're more comfortable with! — anonymous
𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
I feel like you need more sukuna for kinktober so what about sukuna and branding 👀 — anonymous ( 2 of the same request )
So for the request I was think sukuna double penetration and painal 😁 — anonymous
𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢
I just realized, Toge could literally make you cum on command. — anonymous
There honestly needs to be more Toge Inumaki content, he is the loml. Imagine him using his cursed speech with his s/o during sex I - — anonymous
ᴋᴀᴍɪɢᴀᴍɪ ɴᴏ ᴀsᴏʙɪ
𝐥𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧
For kinktober: Loki Laevatein + master kink — anonymous
𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐮𝐬
Would you do reading together with Thoth from kamigami? I am down bad for that man🥰 — mylifeisjustasongreference
ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ sᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ
𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐨𝐡
omfg puh LEASE. can you write something for sangwoo. a lil dub con ? maybe ? a lil .. impact play ? spit kink — anonymous
ᴍʏsᴛɪᴄᴍᴇssᴇɴɢᴇʀ
𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐫𝐲𝐮
For your kinktober, can I get Zen from Mystic Messenger + mutual masturbation — anonymous
𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐦
and virginity with yoosung? for kinktober — glowunderthemoon
ᴏʙᴇʏ ᴍᴇ!
𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧
leviathan would be really into being tied up,edged and used like ur personal sex toy — anonymous
ᴏɴᴇ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ
𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐚 𝐳𝐨𝐫𝐨
Hello! I see you like Zoro from One Piece. lol, is it just me or do you also see him getting off using his swords on “reader”? Like insertion or even knifeplay. Or both? Maybe very yandere Zoro? Hohoho? — anonymous
ᴛᴡɪsᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ
𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡
i just read the “after party” fic and was wondering if you could do a part two with fem reader getting tied up n stuff?? like how floyd was saying he would do at the end of the fic??? — anonymous
Can I request yandere leech twins (together) x fem reader when reader tries to escape and they catch her and punish her. It can be smut or not whichever you prefer. — kazuha-fuck-me-please
𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝
Okay, i think Idia would be pretty forward and perverted once he gets comfortable with his partner and won't hesitate to take the lead or initiate sexy timess — anonymous
𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥
Pussy drunk Jack Howl - Jack who is so respectful and considerate but the moment he slides in he goes feral and cannot control himself. Jack who uses his strength to manhandle you into any position he desires. Jack who’s mouth turns to absolute filth because he can’t contain the urge to tell you just how good you feel around him. — anonymous
𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫
Okay so I love the idea of Leona going absolutely feral when he finds out that reader meets with Malleus at night sometimes, not even in a secret-meeting-for-rendezvous kinda thing they just enjoy each other’s company, but we all know Leona is possessive as all hell and would just lose his shit. Also I get all mushy when I think of romantic sex with him, like he calms himself down a little after a few rounds, smells himself all over reader, sees them all marked up by him, and just sits them in his lap with his arms around them tightly and lets them take it at their own pace, while he mutters about how much he cares about them, but his words are still laced with a hint of possessiveness “you better not leave me” and “you’re mine”. — anonymous
hi I don’t know if you want to do so but can I request a enemies to lover fic about leona x tsundere afab reader if you would like? — anonymous
𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚
Okay so Malleus and reader are fwb. But, you hate each other’s guts more or less (it’s definitely less but who’s gonna admit that). You’re not together, but god forbid he sees you flirting with someone else 😉 — chxrrysangel
𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞
Hii!! Sorry if this doesn't make sense but may I ask for a soft dom!Neige and Che'nya helping the fem!reader through their first time?? May I request for it to be in the missionary position, pretty vanilla because i cant imagine these two liking any other position, like passionate sex? — anonymous
𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐳𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭
I wanted to ask if you could write a scenario where Sebek and Female!reader are alone in Ramshackle in a study session, but suddenly things get hot and they end up making it so loud (because Sebek doesn't control his voice) and reader is glad they're the only ones in the place — anonymous
Submissive Sebek with a Fem!Reader that satisfies his praise kink — anonymous
𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫
Hiii i dont req usually and im a little nervous but omg imagine face riding trey... Sjdhjsjdje — anonymous
Doll my absolute beloved, I would be over the moon if you wrote anything involving teasing dom!Trey Clover! Maybe involving some light bondage? Please and thank youuuu - 😴 — anonymous
𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
COUGH COUGH thinking about having a threesome with vil and rook- vil would prob be degrading us while rook would be praising us- lowkey feel like most of the time rook would be a soft dom and vil would either be soft dom too or mean/hard dom- O_O honestly i dont know ahhh im just so thirsty for them 😭 — anonymous
91 ᴅᴀʏs
𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐚
Can you write a little something with mutual masturbation for Angelo? — anonymous
70 notes ¡ View notes
leiawritesstories ¡ 2 years
Note
You graced us with Rowaelin and their teenage kids... but how about Rowan being the kind of dad that goes beyond to embarrass his kids 😏 in public
As you wish 👀👀
Word count: 1,225
Warnings: dad fads, language
enjoy!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh my god!" Lana cried, shoving through the garage door with her face flaming bright red. "Why do you do these things?!"
"I don't have any idea what you mean, honey," Rowan grinned, as proud of himself as he could be.
She gestured broadly at his outfit--collared shirt tucked into cargo shorts, black socks, and Birkenstock sandals. And the baseball cap on his head that fortunately was just one for his favorite team, not the "DAD" one he'd threatened to purchase. "I told you to look presentable and you do this??"
"I'm perfectly presentable!" he protested, smirking. "I'm the portrait of a dad, as I should be!"
She rolled her eyes, the expression so much like Aelin's that it made him stop in his tracks for a moment. "You're so damn cringey, Dad." She didn't give him a chance to respond before she stormed up the stairs and slammed her door behind her.
Rowan sighed, removing his hat and kicking off the sandals. Gods, who the hell thought wearing black socks and sandals was a good idea?
"Guess you're not old enough to know," his wife teased.
He turned sharply to find Aelin sitting atop one of the barstools at their kitchen counter. "Shit, did I say that out loud?"
"You did indeed," she laughed, "dad."
His nose crinkled. "Fireheart, I love you, but please never call me that ever again."
She smirked. "Hey, you go out of your way to embarrass your kids, I get to go out of mine to embarrass you."
"Fair enough," he grumbled, conceding.
"Speaking of that..." She arched one brow at him.
"What?"
"Ro." Aelin hopped off the stool and came to stand in front of him. "Do you ever think you go a bit too far?"
"Uh..." He rubbed his fingers through his hair. "No?"
"Buzzard." She gave him her Mom Look. "Lana's sixteen, she's very concerned with needing to fit in, and you blaring your dad presence to the world might be amusing to yourself, but not to her."
Rowan sighed. "Why do you have to be right?"
"It's my job." She pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw. "Now go apologize to your daughter and promise not to do that in public."
~
"...And then he showed up like that and I wanted to crawl into the fuckin' floor and die!" Lana groaned, sprawled out on her bed.
"He does that all the damn time," Bran agreed, her fourteen-year-old brother sitting in her beanbag chair. "Gods, it's like every time he comes to pick me up from practice he's got the window rolled down and he's yelling 'I'M HERE FOR MY SON!' and I want to punch something."
Lana snorted. "I mean, it was funny when we were younger, but now? It's just--"
"Stupid," Bran agreed.
"Exactly." She rolled her eyes at him. "I guess it's kind of adorable in a way, but I don't think we'll appreciate that until we go off to college and he sends us pics of him wearing the dad hat we know he's gonna get."
"Why d'you think I wanna go to college far away?" Bran muttered.
"Cause you want to be Mr. Independent," his older sister teased.
He scowled. "Shut up."
"I'm not being rude, B, just honest." She tossed a small pillow at him, affectionately. "Besides, if and when you end up getting recruited--yeah, I know it's your dream--it'll probably be to somewhere pretty far from Orynth."
"Yeah." His expression went distant for a moment. "But that's far off, I don't need to think about it so much."
"Look who's all mature now," Lana snickered.
Bran threw the pillow back at her. "Someone has to be."
"You little shit!" she exclaimed, swatting him with the pillow.
He dodged so it only hit his shoulder and grabbed another of her many pillows, landing a soft hit to her shoulder. "I'm not wrong!"
"I'm the oldest and the most mature, boys don't get mature until they're 26," she returned smugly. "Even then, y'all are still idiots."
"Shut up!" he retorted, the great teenage default answer.
She giggled and was halfway through squishing his face between the two pillows when there was a knock on her door.
"Who's there?"
"It's Dad."
She gestured at Bran. "Go on, I'm gonna have to talk to Dad." She faced the door again. "Okay, come in."
Bran left the room as Rowan walked in, looking ever so slightly sheepish. "Hey, Lana."
"What do you need?" She tried her very best to keep from snapping.
Her father sat down on the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry for embarrassing you."
Lana folded her arms across her chest, not yet willing to forgive and forget. "Dad, do you even try to realize that I'm not a little kid anymore?"
Rowan had the grace not to respond, allowing her to spill out what she needed to tell him.
"I'm never going to hear the end of this from my friends!" Lana's voice shook. "Dad, I'm finally getting to start going places on my own, I'm finally getting to feel more grown up, and I wanted to bury myself in the floor and die. You can't just show up at the mall and do that!" She flicked a tear off her cheek. "All my friends were laughing at me! And now they'll never shut up about it and I'll be the new joke!" Angrily, she faced him. "And it's your fault."
He let her words sink in for a moment before replying. "I'm sorry, Alanna. I really am." He cleared his throat. "I, uh, you're right, I can't just show up like that. Honey, I forget how you're growing up so fast, because you're my firstborn, my first baby, and if parents had our way, our kids would stay little forever."
"But we don't."
"But you don't," Rowan agreed, "and I...I guess I've just blocked myself from seeing how grown up you are, Lana."
She sighed. "Well, I'm gonna be driving myself around in a couple of months, so you'd better get used to the idea."
He shuddered, chuckling. "Yeah, I don't know how my parents ever got used to their kids driving themselves around, I'm terrified."
She laughed softly, coming to sit next to her father and lean into his side. "Please just promise me that you'll stop dressing like that."
"All right, I promise." He looped his arm around her. "That outfit was probably the worst thing I've worn since being in a frat in college."
"God, I do not need to hear about that!" Lana protested, shivering. "I hear way too much about it already from Uncle Aeds and Uncle Lorcan."
"Those little shits," Rowan grumbled affectionately.
His daughter snickered. "Thanks, Dad."
"Of course." He ruffled her hair. "I really am sorry, Lana. I'm the real grownup, I should think before I do something stupid."
"How the hell did Mom let you out of the house?" Lana asked, genuinely curious to know.
Rowan smirked. "She didn't see me leaving."
"Of course she didn't," Lana sighed, her tone and posture an exact replica of Aelin's disappointed stance.
It made Rowan jolt--gods, she was exactly like her mother. "Stop growing up so fast," he mumbled, unexpectedly a little emotional.
She huffed a laugh, her mouth curving up into a half-grin. "Don't think I can, dad."
~~~
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62 notes ¡ View notes
lipglossanon ¡ 9 months
Note
it’s ripe spooky season finally and my god i had to stop myself this wasn’t even finished but it’s too long already 🫣 imagine if dark stepdaddy leon and reader went costume shopping and she gets all excited a prop gun and he gets ideas 👀 (which is never a good thing considering him 🤭) but you two get home and he’s instantly back in whatever headspace you wanna call it a dom headspace, daddy headspace whatever and makes you get undressed except your collar and you ask if you can wear clothes which he would normally get upset over but you were flustered so he asked why and you said you liked it when he ripped them off and he helped you pick out a pair of panties, shorts, and a top to wear before taking you back to his room and laying you down asking you if you wanted this to be consensual and you shook your head and he said okay, you two struggled for a bit before he pulled the prop gun out and you said i want the real one i know this one won’t hurt me and pouted so he obliged getting an unloaded one from his desk and coming back to you he’s over top of you pressing the barrel to your head and threatening you when you grab his hand and move it down to your mouth lightly wrapping your lips around it staring at him making him hesitate giving you space to lick the length of it and giggle asking him if he really likes it that much when he smirks you guide his hand to shove it in your mouth making you moan and spread your legs, wishing he could see you close around nothing he tells your take them off so you do and leave your panties on and push them to side so you can slip your middle finger on each hand into your hole and spread yourself for him while he rocks the gun gently into your mouth again making you moan and clench causing him to curse and place the gun in the nightstand drawer and pick the prop gun back up gliding it across your folds so it’s slick when he inches it into your cunt making you loudly moan and cry out daddy while he braces his other hand on your stomach and fucks into you with the barrel of the prop gun when you finally cum around it you’re squeezing it too tight him to remove and when he tried again you remove your fingers and grab his hand pushing the gun further into your pussy while you orgasm and he finally pulls it out and your putting it back in your mouth to suck your juices off of it and he gets an idea and gets up and retreat to bathroom after digging through his dresser and he comes out in (to save the word count re4 remake leon fit,,,, ya know the one) and you squeeze your breasts making you moan and spread your legs just from looking at him while he settles between your spread legs he runs the gun across the inside of your thigh making you tremble and whisper please daddy while he tells you to wait but you’re impatient and start feeling him up and he can’t tell you no when you’re moaning and practically working you’re self into an orgasm from touching/seeing him and he can’t complain when you finally do, your body shakes he holds you’re spasming legs while you shudder as the last of it washes over you and he bends over you to breathily whisper against your ear while you arch your back into his touch “i don’t think you told me how much power i had over you momma” and you’re not even coherent anymore Just Dick™️ at this point like you’re clawing at his pants to free his cock while he chuckles and tells you to slow yourself and you can’t do anything other than whine and he finally pulls himself out and starts stroking it while you lightly touch the tip and watch it jerk slightly so you start pumping it with both hands moaning more than him when he finally gets close you’re practically pulling his torso to you so he’ll be inside you when he comes and he does just that, costing your walls and helping you along by shoving the gun down your throat again making cum instantly
- 💀
“i don’t think you told me how much power i had over you momma”
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God why is this man fictional 🙄 lol
💀 anon, back at it with another banger 👏 👏
Gun kink is just chefs kiss 😌 especially with dark stepdad. He definitely pairs that with his knife and it gets to the point of when you see them you’re soaking wet 😵‍💫 😵‍💫
6 notes ¡ View notes
lovelyjasmari ¡ 2 years
Text
Twisted Wonderland Reaction Part 15 ~ THIS IS NOT A GODDAMN OTOME GAME Edition
Hello everyone!
Welp, after a long work week/weekend, I finally finished reading the first part of the Phantom Bride event! This was actually one of 4 twst events I hadn’t previously read ahead, the others being Vargas Camp, Endless Halloween Night and that Epel-centric one JP got back in winter. I tried reading it afew months back, but 30 seconds in I was jumped by 4 of the twst boys proposing to me (ROOK INCLUDED) and I immediately noped out and spent the remainder of the night screaming into my pillow. Soooooo...yeah...
But I’m really loving it so far, Eliza is the worst and everyone is being petty af and it’s awesome! Warning: Pic heavy, violence, swearing, simping (A LOT OF SIMPING), twst boys trying and failing to be smooth, references to my ocs and some Idia slander. LET’S GET IT!
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Sorry, Ace. You gotta get in line behind Rook, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia...
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I feel like this was put in for those who felt Elsa was making some profound statement against romantics when she said something similar.
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Always, my handsome, sexy, sus-as-fuck hunter of love! The blue really suits him and I know some ppl think he looks odd without his hat but I don’t. Rook is beautiful with or without it. Ohhhhh, I can’t wait to read his vignette! I think Eliza will REALLY like him but hopefully not because then she and I might have to fight.😊
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Grim, when are we NOT being evicted or being threatened with eviction??
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THE FUCK YOU MEAN “AGAIN”?! Don’t you think you should have warned us of the potential of this shit when you airdropped us into that shack?! God this bird man makes me sick!
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Bitch unless you’re putting me up in a new place (preferably Diasomnia or Pomefiore for reasons...👀) KICK THE GHOSTS OUT! Actually, where are the usual ghosts when this is happening? I’d think they’d put up a fight too wouldn’t they??
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Ortho is such a sweet little bro. But I do understand Idia’s appeal, hell, 17-year-old weeb me probably would have killed for a BF like Idia! Though he’d probably only want a uper petite Asian girl or a kawaii idol or e-girl type to live out his anime waifu fantasies. Don’t boo ,me, you know I’m right. 
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That’s Disney talk for IDIA’S GOING TO FUCKING DIE
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Have I mentioned that this bird man makes me sick?? 💀
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Idia has absolutely doxxed ppl with Ortho’s help. Don’t tell me how I know this, I just do. 
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Isn’t it always at this fucking school?! 
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Edward Elric vibes right here, maybe Riddle should drink more milk...
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Floyd, please shut the fuck up before Riddle puts a collar on you...
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You shut up too!
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 I’m still not over his bullshit from the last part of Book 5 either. GET HIS ASS VIL!
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She’s awful beyond awful but I like her design at least, reminds me a lot of Emily from Corpse Bride.
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Why does Idia sound like me trying to get my non twst friends into twst?? 😭😂
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Somewhere in the distance, I can hear my brother’s girlfriend squeeing. I got her into twst a while back and she is a TREMENDOUS Leona simp, which is hilarious for me since I simp so hard for all the ppl Leona hates. 😂
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And the violence has begun! But really, this shocked me when I first saw it, like DAMN THIS BITCH REALLY JUST BACKHANDED LEONA FUCKING KINGSCHOLAR! To be fair he did a pretty shitty job wooing her but still, violence is never the answer, kids! 
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OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😍😍😍😍😍😍 I really wish this was voiced because we know from Book 5 that Vil can sing quite well and I would just DIE if Vil sang to me! MMMMMFFFFF I’m getting giddy just imagining it! 
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WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HER?! So what if Vil doesn’t have a dog, I would think she’d prefer to be the only bitch in his life anyway! 
Okay, look, I know that was terrible. But seriously, it was at this moment that Eliza officially ended up on my shitlist. I really hope she doesn’t slap Rook in the next part cause I will dropkick a ghost, I do not care! 
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And unfortunately, Sebek was doomed from the start. Sometimes I wonder if he ever envies Vidaria for obvious reasons...
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She’s got a point tho, one of the few times she actually said something sensible. Say what you will, but Sebek totally deserved that slap.
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SIDONIE! COME GET YO MANS!!! 💀💀💀💀💀🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
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Aww, at least he’s being sweet abt his obvious failure. It’s funny cause when I write him with Sidonie, he’s very smooth and charming but here? An absolute dork! But a good natured dork and that’s what Sidonie loves about him. 💖
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This cannot end well...
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Bitch WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?! Why are you even here?!
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Oh god, Jade is so goddamn charming that my heart would absolutely go if he offered me a flower. But at the same time it’s Jade so I would be terrified as well. Such odd, polarizing feelings he stirs within me...👀
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WHERES MY STICK
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Jade was literally the closest thus far in yeeting her back to the afterlife and you snitched on him because you were lonely in the slap corner? PET-TY!
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Ya’ll ain’t shit, you know that?! NONE OF YOU! Except Rook, we’re still cool and haven’t needed to beat him with my stick yet. The rest of these clowns tho? Maybe THIS is the reason twst isn’t an otome game! 
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Welp, let’s see how these fellas fare with Cater’s cringe ass nae nae talk...
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Sadly not any better...💀
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WHAT SEBEK SAID
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Ugh, once again I find myself agreeing with this bitch. Modern dating is a nightmare and I am so glad I’ll be getting married soon myself to probably one of the last men on the planet who truly is a decent person. 
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Oooohh, I really like Idia’s tux tho, and I’m not an Idia simp in the slightest but damn it suits him!
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Good to see his priorities are in order. About to die? Yeah no biggie. About to die without reading the newest manga, TRAGIC!!!
In all seriousness tho, while pulling for Ace, I got Ortho’s ceremonial robes card and after reading the accompanying vignette, I can kinda understand why everyone’s so reluctant to help him. As a painfully anxious introvert myself, I REALLY hate Idia’s apathetic attitude. It’s going to take some PROFOUNDLY deep and tragic shit in Book 6 for me to think differently of him but as of now, nah I can’t with him, especially since I know ppl like him irl and they are actually the worst. 
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Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, something tells me I’m going to be screaming into my pillow ALOT more when part 2 drops. Pray for me, guys...💙
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Eliza better slap him first, if she want’s any sort of redemption in my eyes. Sadly I didn’t get Ace or Epel and I won’t be pulling hard for either since Vil will be coming home soon. And since the other vignettes are still locked, with that, the first part of the Phantom Bride event is done! So far, so good! And I just realized, I began this post with an Ace pic and I’m ending it with an Ace pic! Not intentional though, I swear! ❤
14 notes ¡ View notes
josiewrites ¡ 2 years
Note
New Ask game. Send me one of my fic titles and I'll tell which was THAT SCENE for that fic.
Or: what's your favorite sentences from the fic 👀
I wanna know about the mjf/punk Restraint, and wardlow Stress Relief, and as a treat the newest Yuta/Mox one.
~ @loose-cannon-wrestler
Oooh. Good choices, babe. I’ll give you both, since they’re typically the same!
Restraint: “What’s wrong, puppy?” He licked a stripe along Max’s throat, above the collar before playfully nipping at Max’s shoulder. “Not so full of yourself when you’re full of me, huh?”
Stress Relief: “Oh fuck, babygirl,” he growled as she felt the head of his cock nudge at her entrance. “Just what Daddy needs.” He slid inside her with ease, filling her immediately with his impressive length, each thrust threatening to split her in half. She quickly became a babbling mess beneath him, every movement of his hips causing him to bottom out inside her. He wrapped her hair around his fist, jerking her head upwards as he moved faster. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m surprised your tiny little cunt can fit me.”
Pent Up: “Open your mouth, Mox.”Jon smirked as Wheeler walked towards him, fingers making quick work of his belt and jeans. “That’s more like it,” he said, his voice husky as Wheeler freed his half hard length from his pants. 
2 notes ¡ View notes
melis-writes ¡ 2 years
Text
Eyes like Stars [Bobby Axel x Reader Multi-chapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 5 - You're My Girl.
Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 4 [AO3] / [Tumblr] / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.
18+, explicit smut, multi-chapter read.
"I loved you, Helen, and you lied to me." / “You’re my girl.”
Bobby separates himself from the destructive, wayward lifestyle he knows he's bound to fall back into around his brother Hank's influence and his past with Helen. Moving out the last of his things from Hank's place, Bobby doesn't hesitate to tell Helen exactly how he feels about her and that he's past forgiveness and apologies. With a sense of selfishness coming over Bobby, he's only looking out for himself in the streets but his trust and comfort level with you has deepened to such a degree that Bobby can't stay away from you. Knowing he wants to make the first move into a relationship and satisfy his sexual arousal, Bobby finally comes to approach you with what he wants. Roommates being skin to skin and fucking is one thing, but Bobby isn't going to settle for anything except having you as his girlfriend.
[WARNINGS]: Mentions of past drug abuse, mentions of crime & criminality, fluff.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: From this chapter onward, we'll get to see that in this fic, Bobby is just as down bad for you as you are for him! After all, you're his girl now, aren't you? 😏 Also included some subtle themes that'll reveal themselves pretty quickly onwards that Bobby's addicted to something a bit more intimate, and although he's gentle and touchy with you, desire is growing intensely in him. 👀 Let the bedsheets wrinkle and the headboard shake next chapter because fluff aside now, there's going to be a world of smut to make up for all this teasing!! 😵❤
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Bobby’s release from prison marks the end of his and Helen’s relationship and you find yourself spending more time with Bobby and taking care of him after everything he’s been through. Working and living in Manhattan as a college drop-out, you distance yourself from Helen who Bobby and you take solace with one another in hopes to get out of the toxic lifestyle of drug use—promising each other to start a new life with one another and get clean. Falling in love with Bobby, you experience a mutual, passionate and loving relationship with its own highs and lows that promises to bloom into something more serious but also can threaten to collapse. As Bobby’s new girlfriend, your relationship hangs on a thread with old skeletons coming back into Bobby’s life, relapses, and a new panic on the horizon that threatens to undo it all.
[ Hank’s Apartment ]
“Oh, wow, look who it is,” Hank calls out sarcastically from his bedroom as Bobby pushes open the front door to the suite, walking in without a single glance or greeting. “Nice of you to call your brother ahead of time and tell him you were coming.”
“Not here for shits and giggles, Hank,” Bobby replies—his tone of voice already agitated as his eyes begin to examine the messy apartment. “Is she here?”
“Helen?” Hank smoothens out his collar. “No, but she will be any minute.”
“Where’s my stuff?” Bobby is quick to ask, wasting no time.
Hank straightens out his tie, peeking his head out of the bedroom. “I put it over there by the couch in a box. That’s all you had.”
Spotting the box up ahead, Bobby approaches it and kneels down, noticing how battered and used it is, especially as an ashtray. Hoping the scent of cigarettes and diapers hasn’t sunk into his clothes like it has to the rest of the entire apartment complex, Bobby pulls open the flaps of the box.
He sees it halfway filled up with piles of his wrinkled clothes and some pairs of old shoes he left at Hank’s place shortly before he got arrested and lets out a little sigh. “You sure you didn’t just steal the rest of my shit?”
“When did you ever have any shit, to begin with?” Hank steps out of his bedroom, adjusting his dress shirt. “You’re livin' on t-shirts, sweatpants, and jeans, man. I ain’t touch your stuff or do anything with it. Half of it is with you and Emily now, right?”
Bobby sighs out in frustration, putting the messy piles of his clothes and a few pairs of his old shoes back into the box. “Yeah, yeah, I’m taking what I can.”
With Bobby now officially moved in with you as a roommate, it’s taken an immense burden off of his shoulders to know he doesn’t have to live with Hank anymore. Still filled with love and appreciation for his brother, Bobby knows he and Hank live completely different lives.
“Speaking of…” A grin spreads over Hank’s face as he looks back at his brother. “Look at you, huh? Smellin’ like a bed of roses, wearing something clean. I can’t see your damn bones sticking out anymore, either. Somebody’s been spending some extra quality time with Emily, eh?”
“Yeah, and what’s it to you?” Bobby grabs a cigarette out of Hank’s pack lying on the coffee table next to him.
“Nothin’, nothin’. Just curious.” Hank’s eyes dart over his brother. “You just look different, is all. Emily been taking care of you?”
It’s true. Bobby’s steadily gained back his healthy amount of weight, no longer looking starved or close to malnourished in any way. He’s back to the way he’s always been—slim and a little scrawny, but clearly healthy looking and not in the sense that he’s gained back his weight eating just French fries.
“Yeah,” Bobby answers, seeming a little annoyed by Hank’s questions as they make brief eye contact. “She talk to you lately?”
There’s a healthy color in Bobby’s face from not only being able to have warm, healthy meals but also from access to hygiene products and staying with you—someone he feels safe and at home with always.
“No.” Hank shakes his head, buttoning down his shirt. “I mean, not since I came by to drop some of your stuff off at her place, but that was it.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t live with Helen, Emily might have actually come around.” Bobby lights his cigarette.
“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Hank chuckles.
With Hank’s thieving, Bobby has a bigger chance of getting busted in the apartment for shooting up junk if the police ever raid solely to find Hank. Not to mention the rancid stench and consistent visit of hookers coming up to the suite all the time. Bobby knows he definitely won’t miss living with his brother.
“Not for long.” Bobby moves the cigarette to the corner of his mouth as he continues going through his box of things. “She gonna come to see me here too or what?”
“Sure, she should be here by now.” Hank glances at his wristwatch. “Though whatever the hell you two talk about, it’s none of my business.”
“She ain’t my girl anymore, Hank.” Bobby runs his fingers over a pair of old shoelaces. “You wanna comfort her? That’s fine.”
Now by your side, Bobby knows and has affirmed to himself that he’s not going to look back at his old ways anymore. Bobby always laughed and blew it off when the judge or prison warden scolded him about getting incarcerated, saying that this time a stay in prison would knock some sense into him.
“She deserves to hear it from you at least.” Hank plops down on his old, worn armchair. “Hey, no hard feelings between us, though, right? We’re brothers, man, and she’s a hooker. She ain’t just ballin’ me if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”
“She’s ballin’ everyone in the west side, right?” Bobby glances up—an expression over his face as if he couldn’t care less. “She’s a hooker. That’s what they do.”
“Yeah, except you supported her at one point.” Hank points out.
Bobby takes a long drag out of his cigarette, blowing the smoke around him. “You think I made my girl into a prostitute?”
“Whoa now,” Hank chuckles, putting his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say that. All I’m saying is you supported it. Or at least you seemed fine with it.”
“I don’t own Helen, Hank,” Bobby replies, holding up an old shirt from the box. “She was shootin’ eighty dollars a day, I was shootin’ fifty, we had rent to pay, we had to eat. I could only afford it for one person. By all means, if she wanted to sell her ass outside, I didn’t really care. At least she would stop whining about money.”
In reality, Bobby just drifted around in prison, smoked, made friends, and waited patiently to get out. His last stay of a long six months—more than he’s used to and because of Helen amidst what Bobby considered a success and real money reaching his hands working for Santo, truly hit him the way his other nine imprisonments didn’t.
Bobby knew then and know just as well now that the only way he’s going to be able to get his shit together and maintain it is if he’s around someone who already has their shit together and isn’t motivating him to take bigger doses and riskier jobs just for a quick buck.
“Money, huh?” Hank smiles to himself, resting the side of his face upon his fist. “Don’t look like that’s going to be much of a problem for you anyway.”
“If you’re implyin’ I’m using Emily, you’re wrong.” Bobby flicks off the ashes from the tip of his cigarette. “I’ve been broke my whole life, Hank. That ain’t gonna change. We can’t all steal shit from people’s asses like you.”
“So then, what the hell are you two doing living together anyway?” Hank licks the palm of his hand, shaping out the sides of his hair. “She ain’t your girl; she ain’t your family. The girl just took you in like some lost dog.”
“Kinda like the way you took in my girl when I was in jail?” Bobby narrows his eyes. “Were ya gonna tell me that part, Hank, or was your intention just to make small talk with me to brush it off?”
“Oh, come on, Bobby.” Hank shakes his head. “You know Helen has nowhere to stay. Man, even when you met her, she was homeless. She stays with me.”
“Because she lets you ball her, and that’s why you keep her around, huh?” Bobby rises to his feet.
“Like you said, she’s a hooker.” Hank shrugs at Bobby. “What do you expect?”
“I expected better,” Bobby says back sarcastically, pushing the box aside with his ankle as he takes his burning cigarette off the side of the nearby ashtray. “But that’s too much for someone like her, right? You two ain’t do shit but fuck each other while I was locked up?”
Before Hank can even reply, the front door slowly pushes open to reveal Helen, who quietly steps in. Her presence alone causes Hank to sigh out in relief as he gestures back to her, “why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Bobby’s eyes dart to the door as a shy and timid Helen steps in, picking at the little formed scabs of heroin puncture marks on her wrists. Dressed in a sweater and some jeans, her hair remains damp and clings to the sides of her face.
From the moment Helen spots Bobby across from her, her eyes immediately filled with a familiar sadness. Her lips quiver a little as she rubs up her arm, her expression a mixture of shame and guilt towards Bobby all at once.
Hank looks expectantly at Bobby as if he’s expecting Bobby to fight or yell at Helen in front of him. Helen shifts around awkwardly on her feet as if she’s anticipating Bobby to say something too, but also genuinely looks uncomfortable and out of place.
Bobby shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh of irritation. “I don’t even know what the fuck to say to either of you anymore.”
“Bobby.” Helen croaks out—her throat tightening from oncoming tears. “Bobby, I’m so sorry.”
Bobby’s eyes widen in surprise, not having expected Helen to speak to let him, let alone apologize of all things. Before Bobby can react back to Helen suddenly speaking up, he blinks in surprise to find Helen rushing into his arms and hugging him tightly.
Helen wraps her arms around Bobby’s back and bursts into tears over his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Bobby. I’m sorry!”
Bobby awkwardly raises his hands from his side as if to hug her back but hesitates. His expression twists from disgust to confusion to concern before he pats Helen’s back in a strange way, as if she was covered in spikes.
“Helen,” Bobby murmurs, attempting to coax her off of him.
“I know it’s my fault, Bobby. It’s because of me—” Helen sniffles, practically shaking in Bobby’s arms.
Bobby grunts, pushing her off of him and holding up his hands to refuse her another embrace. “Stop, Helen. I don’t want you touching me.”
“You know Hotch was going to lock her up otherwise?” Hank speaks up. “He was threatening and blackmailing her the entire time to get to you. You know how women’s jail is, Bobby. Helen didn’t do this to spite you—she didn’t have a choice.”
Bobby throws his cigarette to the ground and steps over it with his heel. “The fuck are you honestly talking about, man? Blackmail? Threatening?”
“But—” Helen begins, but Bobby cuts her off immediately.
“Hotch is a fuckin’ detective!” Bobby exclaims. “He’s a goddamn cop. His job is locking up junkies, dealers, and hookers—how is that blackmail? We all got what was comin’ for us, right? Am I supposed to feel bad this hooker wasn’t locked up, but I was? The fuck kinda stupid exchange is that?”
“Hotchner scared me.” Helen peeps out, covering her face with one hand as tears drip down her cheeks.
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“Hotch says that shit to everyone, newsflash Helen!” Bobby raises his voice sharply.
“Alright, alright,” Hank murmurs, throwing his hands up in surrender before heading off towards the kitchen. “I’m staying out of this shit now. I tried it with you two.”
“Ballin’ my girl never helped anyone, Hank!” Bobby yells back after him before redirecting his anger to Helen. “Why the hell wouldn’t you just tell me, Helen? So you can just lay there in bed depressed and let go of life, feeling less guilty if I knew or what?” Bobby fights back tears of his own, lowering his tone. “I could have helped you, but you lied to me. I loved you, Helen, and you lied to me.”
“Bobby, please.” Helen hiccups, shaking her head. “I-I didn’t have a choice! I could never face you and tell you that—”
“You’re so selfish.” Bobby’s expression twists into a scowl. “That’s something a selfish person would do. Save your own ass by giving me up to Hotch? I would have done everything for you, ya know that?”
“But—” Helen takes in a shaky, deep breath. “It was because of you all this time, Bobby. You started it, didn’t you? You… You got me like this.” Helen rolls up her sleeves, revealing several fresh heroin injection marks over her pale skin.
“Oh, cry me a river.” Bobby imitates the pout on Helen’s face. “Then take your ass to fucking jail and get clean like the rest of us! Or is that not on the table anymore? Did Hotch just give you a free pass, or did you ball him too?”
“Bobby, stop!” Helen cries out. “I didn’t do that! I didn’t! Hotch was breathing down my neck every day. You don’t know half of what I went through! H-He said… He said you could get clean; that prison would be good for you. A-and you were hooked like me, right? I didn’t want you to live like—”
“Oh, spare me the bullshit, Helen!” Bobby shouts. “Stop fucking telling me about getting clean—you don’t know what’s good for me, and you never did! I was dyin’ in there because of you, you know? I was rotting in that shit hole because of you!”
“Bobby—” Tears drip down Helen’s red, splotchy face. “I said I’m sorry, Bobby! I’m sorry!”
“You haven’t changed.” Bobby rolls his eyes, leaning down to pick up his box.
“I’m still me,” Helen breathes out.
Bobby hauls the box up in his arms, glancing back at Helen as if he just noticed her talking to him. “Oh yeah?” He pauses for a moment like he’s considering what Helen’s said seriously. “You’re a whore, Helen. You ain’t no changed whore either.”
“I didn’t want this for you or either of us.” Helen nervously fidgets with her fingers.
“Yes, you did.” Bobby sighs loudly as if he still can’t get the point across. “Things are different now, Helen. You knew then, just as you know now, you could have come to me. But ain’t shit sweet now, is it?”
“Forgive me, then?” Helen raises her saddened, pathetic gaze up to Bobby.
“Forgive you?” Bobby scoffs, almost as if he’s about to burst out into laughter. “I don’t even love you anymore, and you want me to forgive you?!”
“Don’t bother, Helen!” Hank sighs, peeking his head out of the kitchen. “You’re just wasting your breath on him. He’s in ‘love’ with Emily, now.” Hank gestures quotes with his hands.
“Shut the fuck up, Hank.” Bobby glowers back at his brother. “Stop pulling shit out of your ass, and both of you fucking leave me be from now on. Understand?”
“Bobby—” Helen takes in a deep breath.
“Did you hear me?!” Bobby glares back at her—absolute venom in his voice.
“Yes, yes!” Helen flinches, taking a step back.
Bobby angrily stares back at Helen for a moment—not a shred of forgiveness behind his dark eyes. Only a moment later, Bobby turns on his heel, cursing under his breath and directly making his way to the front door.
Bobby throws it open before leaving without another word or glance behind him—letting the door slam shut as the last time he swears to himself, he’ll return and rely back on either Hank or Helen.
~
[ Way Enterprises Office ]
‘Appointments, appointments…’ You fiddle back and forth with your pen between your knuckles, gazing down at the agenda and daily log in front of you at your office desk.
You purse your lips, about to copy down onto your agenda from your notepad that a full tour of the office will be arranged sometime next week for the new graduates hiring fair. Just as you click open your pen and get ready down to work, you pause—unable to focus.
You let out a soft sigh, practically feeling your forehead tingle a little from where Bobby kissed it. Although it’s been an hour since you’ve clocked into work and clearly have an abundance of things to work on, you can’t help but keep glancing towards the clock as if you’re expecting the shift to magically end.
There wasn’t a notion of relaxation or ease on your mind at work after you went to speak with Bobby in prison and saw the sight of him like that, and now if anything, you feel somewhat embarrassed that although Bobby’s fine and well—you can’t stop thinking about the fact that he’s quite literally someone you’re coming home to now.
The thought is romantic if you let your mind linger over it for too long, but at the same time, you’re not ashamed to think of it. Having Bobby with you soothed the faint strain of loneliness within you that you didn’t even know you had.
How could you not think about how the past few days have been with Bobby after all? With each growth of trust and comfort within one another, you’re beginning to find it almost unbearable to be around him so sensually and even intimately.
After all, the two of you slept side by side to one another in your bed last night for the first time. Little to no cuddling or anything sexual involved; it’s still as intimate as it gets, and you know for a fact today’s shift will pass as always, but not without your mind wandering back to Bobby over and over again.
Your train of thought is interrupted when you flinch and look up to see one of the last people you’d ever care or think about, a complete opposite from Bobby. Your regional manager, whom you haven’t seen for the past six months—Logan Sykes.
The color and any genuine happiness you had drains not only from your face but from an optimistic view you had in finishing your shift for the day the moment your surprised gaze meets his ambitious, blue eyes.
“Well, well, Miss Sutcliffe. It’s good to see you again.” Mr. Sykes grins at you.
“S-sir?” You blink back at him in confusion, gesturing down to your agenda log, knowing without a doubt such an important employee from corporate wouldn’t be here without a memo going around the office for a month, let alone a note on your daily log.
“What’s the point of a corporate surprise if there are memos being sent left, right and center? Don’t worry about it.” Mr. Sykes gives you a reassuring smile. “I’m not here on business—not exactly. Maybe you’ve heard I’m doing rounds through the state to see how our offices are. Reports and all for headquarters about productivity.”
“Sorry, sir, but no.” You admit back. “I haven’t heard.”
You can pick up on the disappointment flashing in Mr. Sykes’ eyes right away, and regardless of his constant, weird, friendly demeanor towards you and your coworkers, he still intimidates you nonetheless.
‘Shit.’ You can practically feel a knot of anxiety growing in your gut from his expression alone.
“Um, if anything,” you speak up again to save face, “if I knew you were coming, sir, I would have prepared a proper welcome for you.”
“Hm.” Mr. Sykes’ smile returns back to his face as quickly as it was gone. “Well, in that case, you can make yourself useful for once by getting me a hot cup of coffee, right? That’s a part of your job, isn’t it?”
“Certainly, sir, but—”
Mr. Sykes cuts you off, shaking his head. “No, no, don’t worry about anything else right now. Why else would this be here for, right?” He taps the little “ring for service” bell on the edge of your desk. “And if the telephone rings, you can run back to it momentarily, but the rest of your work can wait for now.”
“Right.” You mumble glumly, rising from your seat.
“I’ll be in my office; you know where it is.” Mr. Sykes gives you a nod, beginning to head off down the hall before stopping in his tracks. “Oh! And one more thing, Emily.” He points a finger back at you, making a disgusted face. “For the love of God, make sure you brew a new pot of coffee. I don’t know what garbage cold coffee you all drink here, but I’d like something fresh. Have it delivered to my office and then come see me again. I’m sure I can find something for you to do so you don’t have to sit there for the next seven hours.”
“Yes, sir.” You say back with every last ounce of patience inside of you.
From the very first time you met with Logan Sykes, the regional manager of Way Enterprises, you’ve come to realize any secretary—regardless of which branch they work in—always become Sykes’ “personal assistant” when he comes to visit.
It’s a day not only you dread, but assume other secretaries around the country working for the company do too. You know you shouldn’t be surprised by his fake, upbeat attitude about work and his constant, childish demands for refreshments and basic chores to be done, but Sykes has never failed to disappoint you or ruin your day.
‘Alright… I can do this. I’ve done this before. Just get his stupid coffee and hope he doesn’t ask for anything else.’ Trying to remain as quiet, well-kept, and hardworking as possible throughout your demeanor, you take in a deep breath and smoothen out your blouse.
Keeping your eyes and ears alert for any front desk visitors or for the telephone to ring, you leave the lunchroom door ajar and begin to pour out the warm pot of coffee only made half an hour ago.
“Sykes is here, huh?” One of your coworkers calls out from behind you at the lunch table. “We only made that thirty minutes ago.”
“Yeah,” you reply back, beginning to rinse out the coffeepot. “It was a surprise for me too.”
“Sometimes I feel like he does these things on purpose to get a reaction out of us.” One of your other female coworkers mumbles under her breath.
“Ah, you know Sykes.” The other reassures her. “If he’s not annoying, he’s demanding. Maybe he heard some reports about us snorting coke in the bathroom during our lunch break, and he’s here to find out?”
“More like here to snort it himself.” A third adds, and the group bursts out into laughter.
You shake your head and sigh in disappointment as you get to brewing a new, hot pot of coffee for Mr. Sykes. You just know he’s going to have you dragging your feet and absolutely exhausted by the end of the day. That’s all you have to look forward to today, but if anything, it does get your mind off of Bobby for once.
A good ten minutes pass before the hot pot of fresh coffee is brewed, and you couldn’t be more relieved, surprised that you only burned yourself once making it today.
You carefully pour it into the biggest mug you can find in one of the cabinets, knowing that Mr. Sykes has sent you back with the coffee before if you put it in any normal-sized cup.
Just as Sykes likes his coffee, you leave it completely black, scorchingly hot, and with no sugar. You take it back to his office immediately before it can even begin to cool, awkwardly standing by the open doorway as you approach Sykes’ desk.
“Sir,” you hold the handle of the mug tightly, peeking back at him.
Mr. Sykes runs a hand through his brushed back, brunette hair—leaning back in his office seat with a completely relaxed disposition.
His eyes land back on you, then dart down to the coffee mug in your hands. Sykes looks as if he’s been anticipating the coffee all day, but his expression quickly changes to severe annoyance.
“Just a coffee?” Sykes gestures back at the mug.
“Well, yes, sir.” You nod, “a fresh-brewed, black coffee is what you wanted.”
Mr. Sykes lets out a long, drawn-out sigh before sitting upright in his seat. “Get me something to eat. Sweets, a pastry—something flaky and fresh. I’m not drinking that without some breakfast.”
Irritation begins to gnaw at your patience as you stare back in disbelief at your boss. “Sir, with all due respect, I have work to attend to.”
“Do you really?” Sykes raises his brows at you in disbelief. “Or are you tired after doing a basic errand?”
Every urge inside of you wants you to throw the mug at his smug-looking face badly, but you force yourself to stay put and calm.
“This is your job, Emily.” Mr. Sykes chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t care. The rest can wait. My day isn’t going to start until I get my coffee and breakfast. Now, are you competent enough to go do that for me?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll go do that.” You strain to keep a polite voice as you begin to move towards Mr. Sykes's desk to place his coffee down.
“Uh, Emily?” Mr. Sykes furrows his brows at you, brushing you off with his hand. “No, I will not have my coffee now. Bring it to me with my dessert.”
You don’t even bother to look back up to Sykes or give him another apology he doesn’t deserve. Instead, you turn on your heel and carry the coffee right back to the now-empty lunchroom, where you practically toss it into the sink and let it spill down the drain.
‘I hate this fucking entitled bastard, and I hate it here. Seven more hours of this bullshit, how am I going to even make it to the end of the day?!’ You rake a hand of frustration through your hair. Actively deciding to lose your mind is preferable to losing your job now.
Time can’t pass quickly enough, and now you can’t possibly yearn more than you do and should to get back home and to Bobby.
~
Taking a painkiller for the throbbing headache from constantly being on your feet, scurrying to do one errand for Logan Sykes after another, you surprise yourself with your ability to even walk home after such a horribly exhausting shift.
Naturally, you weren’t surprised but found your anger quickly reaching to new heights when Sykes made you order another box of a dozen donuts and then decided he didn’t like them and gave them back to you.
For the sake of your sanity and money spent, you carry the wrapped-up box of donuts with you back home, refusing to see them as something that frustrates you thanks to work.
Miserable and tired to no avail, you hold onto the box of donuts with one hand and stick the key into your suite’s lock with your free hand.
You practically use your body weight to push open the door, walking in and noticing first thing that the lights are off and curtains are drawn back—leaving the room only illuminated by the street lights glistening in the distance of the city skyline.
You let the door shut behind you and spot Luna curled up on the couch—this time without Bobby next to her.
A sense of disappointment hits you as you realize Bobby isn’t home, but at the same time, you know he was going to be out and picking up the rest of his thing from Hank’s place.
As you set your purse and the box of donuts aside and lock the door, you feel a sense of embarrassment flush over your cheeks for assuming you’d be coming home to Bobby like that.
You know you two aren’t in a relationship, let alone romantically involved, but the butterflies turning in your stomach want nothing but the opposite.
‘Can’t fucking believe this.’ You flip the light switch and move towards the living room to pull back the curtains, doing so quietly as not to wake Luna, whose curled up and sleeping soundly.
Leaving the dreadful thoughts of your workday at the door, you pick up your purse and leave the donuts on the kitchen counter before heading back into your bedroom.
Your feet ache to sit down and get some rest, so you don’t waste time stripping down to your bra and panties before letting your clothes wrinkle onto a pile on the floor.
Without a care in the world and feeling your eyes close, you switch on the night lamp on your end table and crash into bed.
From the moment your face hits the soft, cool pillows, you pull the duvet and blankets over you to keep warm. Letting the sweet temptation of sleep win you over, you find yourself drifting off into a well-needed, comforting nap.
~
“Oh, look who it is,” is the first thing Bobby’s greeted with the moment he pushes open the entrance to the convenience street on 65th street to which he’ll never be a stranger.
Ranging from small household items to a decent variety of small, fresh groceries, canned food, all manners of junk food, ready-to-eat hotdogs, and even shittier coffee than the ones at gas stations is what characterizes Bert’s Corner.
With one thing on his mind having nothing to do with what the convenience store is mostly visited for by junkies on munchies or visitors coming into town, Bobby last stepped foot in Bert’s Corner when he was nine years old.
With Bobby twenty-six now, nothing changes with the same shit-eating grin forming over his lips—the same he had when the owner Bert pinned him against the counter until the police came to arrest a nine-year-old for stealing a box of condoms.
Bert, the only caretaker and cashier of his convenience store, whom everyone is convinced even lives in the place, is the same as always.
Now approaching sixty, seventeen years of aging hasn’t been kind to Bert. If anything, his disposition is even more hunched over, and the wrinkles sag down his eyebags, making him look all the more irritated and annoyed no matter what expression he has on his face.
Bert could be said to have Detective Hotchner on some sort of speed dial the way he would be the first to call the police whenever he suspected a junkie was slumping by his store.
Getting no special attention or award from the police and knowing junkies basically kept him in business. Bert was the kind of man you’d see and just want to immediately pay for what you got, make no small talk, avoid eye contact and leave as soon as you could.
Seventeen years may have passed, but Bert never forgets those who steal from his convenience store or start shit of any kind. Bobby didn’t have a need to go to his store either, with the variety of gas stations and other convenience stores popping up on every block all over upper west side Manhattan throughout the years.
It doesn’t surprise Bobby that Bert immediately recognizes him but rather thrills him in a way Bobby knows he’s not going to give Bert the satisfaction of leering at him or getting his insults through.
“Still remember me, old man?” Bobby calls out as he casually makes his way down the aisles of the store.
“Do I ever.” Bert narrows his eyes. “You gonna buy somethin’, or do I need to call Hotch?”
“I don’t give a shit what you do,” Bobby replies, stopping down at one aisle. “I ain’t here to see how you’re doing, so go figure.”
Bert mutters something under his breath and leans both arms over the front counter as he attempts to watch Bobby’s movements in the store.
Bobby runs a hand through his messy hair, playing around with the strings of his hoodies as his eyes flash over the different varieties and price tags of condoms and lubricant.
“Old habits die hard, huh?” Bert comments the moment he sees Bobby reaching for a pack of thirty condoms.
“Eat shit, old man.” Bobby brushes him off, taking a three-hundred-milliliter bottle of lube off the counter.
Bert’s Place was one of the only convenience stores that actually had a variety of condoms and lube to choose from. Bert had actually done something smart for once and ordered them in bulk from sexual health magazines, and anywhere else he could get into contact with that sold the stuff.
It always made consistent, good money from prostitutes and couples coming in from time to time, but with junkies, it was a hit or miss depending on what a junkie was using, for how long and how heavy made all the difference with sex.
Unlike Bobby, some addicts—even former ones—couldn’t get it up or even muster up any sexual desire. For Bobby, sex is the only addiction he’s able to curb until he’s teased to the edge about it—and he likes to be prepared.
Bobby’s eyes quickly skim over the front and back of both the pack of condoms and the lube before he begins to head up back to the front counter. Bert doesn’t doubt Bobby won’t attempt to make a run again but is even surprised himself when Bobby sets the items on the counter and pulls out his wallet.
“Five dollars,” Bert grumbles, carefully watching the movement of Bobby’s fingers pulling out money from his wallet. “You can actually pay for it this time, huh?”
“The police let me live it down, but you still haven’t, old man,” Bobby smirks, sliding a five-dollar bill on the front counter.
“You tell your brother that, he ain’t welcome in here now, then and not in another seventeen years.” Bert rolls his eyes, taking the money and raising it up to eye level so he can examine it.
“And I know you can’t tell shit with those eyes.” Bobby rests the tip of both his elbows on the counter as he grins back at Bert. “Why don’t you leave the counterfeit money examination to the police and just do your damn job, old man?”
“Once a thief, always a thief. I don’t trust you.” Bert scowls, pulling away from Bobby and bagging his items.
“I can’t steal the shit from my own ass, and you know that.” Bobby the bag from him. “You should be proud of me.”
“Proud of you for what?” Bert pops open the cash register. “That you’re finally getting laid?”
“Finally?” Bobby lets out a laugh, making his way back towards the front door. “Yeah, maybe! I got these just so I could ball your daughter.”
“Get the fuck out of here!” Bert hisses, hurling a can of beans to Bobby’s head.
Bobby steps aside just as the can misses him and hits the floor. Bursting out laughing, Bobby runs out of the convenience store, flipping Bert off just as he exits.
Making his way down the block and to your apartment, Bobby adjusts his hoodie and lets out a relieved sigh from the burst of adrenaline before he picks up his pace.
It’s true, after all. Before Bobby met Helen, he was fucking Bert’s daughter—a twenty-four-year-old named Lindsey—on the regular. So much so that Bobby never needed to know the cost of condoms or lube; Lindsey was stealing it from the aisles right under her own father’s nose.
Still, Bobby never let a pack of condoms and a perfectly good bottle of lube go to waste. He’s not going to deny you good, slippery, and sloppy safe sex if that’s what you want after all.
But is it what you want with Bobby after all? That much Bobby knows he’s going to ask you. If anything, Bobby’s sexual attraction and arousal towards you has increased tenfold—looking to get off with the girl he has his eyes on.
~
Four hours have passed by like mere minutes throughout your nap. Bobby was on his way back to the apartment an hour and a half in and could easily tell just how deeply exhausted you were the moment he came home and peeked in the bedroom.
Keeping quiet as you continued to sleep, Bobby smoked two cigarettes and couldn’t help himself from the box of donuts you left on the counter. As for what he did with the condoms and lube he picked up from the convenience store, you’d never know unless you took a look inside Bobby’s personal belongings yourself.
Now munching on the remainder of a powdered jelly donut Bobby holds in one hand, and his cigarette in the other; Bobby sits next to your bed on a spare dining table. He takes a drag from his cigarette and is quick to reach over to the ashtray placed on the edge of your bed the moment Bobby notices you’re stirring in your sleep.
You let out a soft exhale, turning over to Bobby’s side as you begin to slowly awaken. Bobby sets the ashtray and his cigarette pack on the floor as quietly as he can.
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Before Bobby even raises his head up to look at you, your eyes flutter open to spot him right by your side. Blush fills your cheeks immediately at the sight of Bobby so close to your side and fully awakens you as the butterflies kick up in your gut.
Bobby leans back in his seat and gazes back at you, popping the last bit of the jelly donut in his mouth and quietly chewing on it as the two of you make direct eye contact.
You smile lazily at Bobby, nodding a little as you breathe out, “hi.”
Bobby gives you a small smile, finishing chewing and swallowing the donut piece before whispering back, “hey.”
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You rest your arms on the side of the bed and slightly push the duvet and blankets away from your chest as you rub one eye.
It doesn’t take you very long at all to see that Bobby’s gaze has now redirected itself from your eyes down to your breasts. You blink down at yourself and feel an immediate sense of embarrassment for forgetting you napped in your bra and panties, now all exposed before Bobby.
Your breasts threaten to spill from your bra that’s sliding down your shoulders, and your nipples are about to peek through.
You immediately cover yourself up with the duvet and your arms before your eyes look back at Bobby. “Oh, God. Sorry.”
Bobby knows if you’d let him and just asked him to, he’d gladly pull your bra down your breasts with his teeth just to touch you and make you feel good right after a much-needed nap.
Amusement flashes in Bobby’s dark eyes as he takes the cigarette out of his mouth, softly blowing smoke towards you. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”
“How long was I out for?” You groan, resting your head back down on the pillow.
“Couple hours, I’d say. You were fast asleep when I got home.” Bobby flicks off the ashes on the tip of his cigarette to the ashtray. “How do you feel?”
“Exhausted.” You mumble, closing your eyes for a second.
“You look exhausted for a secretary.” Bobby chuckles. “Just what happened today?”
You shake your head at Bobby, groaning. “Our regional manager came in today out of complete surprise. All day, he had me running errands back and forth, making him coffee, getting him lunch, listening to his stupid jokes. I don’t even think I got to sit for one minute and do my own job.”
“That happens often?” Bobby chuckles. “He sounds like an entitled asshole to me. I hate corporate fucks.”
“He is, and you and me both.” You agree, clearing your throat before giving out a little sigh. “I don’t usually nap, but my days usually aren’t this shitty either. I hope you had a better time than I did.”
Bobby raises his cigarette up to his lips, gazing at you. “I got my shit from Hank’s place at last.”
“Yeah?” You lazily rake a hand through your hair. “You got everything?”
“Mhmm,” Bobby tilts his head to the side and exhales out smoke. “Would you be surprised if I told you Helen came over to Hank’s place again?”
“Not at all,” you bite down on your bottom lip. “Nothing bad happened, right?”
“Other than her blubbering and crying about apologizing, saying she had no choice and everything as if she cared about sending my ass to jail—no. I was kinda expecting that from her by now.” Bobby shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever. I just told her my final thoughts. I don’t like all that clingy shit from exes.”
“That makes sense.” You nod at Bobby. “Does… Does that happen to you a lot?”
A playful smile spreads over Bobby’s lips as he glances down at his burning cigarette. “Maybe. Depends on the girl, really. I haven’t been with anyone who's too different from myself. Helen, though…” Bobby gives his head a little shake, “she was my first serious relationship.”
“She never did quite tell me how you two met.” You peek back at Bobby, snuggling onto the blankets.
“Funny enough, I met her through her ex-boyfriend Marco, that weird-ass artist who lives near the hospital. He owed me some big bucks for a pack of junk he kept trying to wiggle his way through. After that, I dunno. Helen and I kinda clung together like glue, but shit never worked out in the end.” Bobby’s eyes dart back to yours. “We didn’t spend any time together. I was out making money for Santo, and she liked being a hooker. We were both addicted to it.”
“So money was a problem,” you watch as Bobby takes a long drag from his shortened cigarette.
“Not at the end, it wasn’t.” It looks like it almost pains Bobby to admit it. “I told Helen money was comin’ out of my eyes and ears at that point, but she didn’t wanna stop. And when she wasn’t out hookin’ up with God knows who, she just lay up in bed depressed all day. She put no effort into our relationship, but she sure did cry and whine a lot about it like a fuckin’ baby.”
“I…” You give your head a shake. “I don’t even think I was talking to her or seeing her after the panic really got going.”
“Good for you.” Bobby rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh. “You weren’t the first. I was waitin’ for Helen together too. Guess we both waited for no reason, huh?”
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“Then she ratted you out.” You frown.
“Mhmm.” Bobby forces a smile back at you. “And that’s why I’m done with all her bullshit for good. All those damn lies about goin’ to the countryside to get away from this life… How can ya do that when you’re addicted to the way you live?”
Your eyes widen a little at the mention of the countryside of all things. “Doesn’t everyone who wants to get the hell out of Needle Park mention the countryside?”
“Oh yeah,” Bobby nods, “but it’s just a fantasy to us junkies. It’s beautiful, but only if ya got the money for it. Nothin’ comes cheap anymore. That’s just the trouble. It’s free to lose yourself to other things, though. Me? I’m just tryin’ to live now. I’m sick of surviving all the time, but you…”
As soon as you find Bobby’s eyes gazing at you with deep interest, you blush furiously. “You’re beautiful. You’re smart, talented, selfless. You got a lot goin’ for yourself, and I don’t mean no fancy office job. You got a couple of guys chasin’ after ya that I should know about?”
“Why?” You giggle. “I don’t know why you would even think that about me.”
“Why?” Bobby repeats, grinning. “I like to weed out my competition. Maybe I can kick some ass.”
“No competition to worry about.” You blush, glancing away. “Crushes here and there, maybe something growing serious but not a real relationship. Never like that. I’m not anybody’s type. Either that, or they’re taken, and I’m not going to be hanging around a married man or something.”
“Oh yeah? I don’t blame ya. I’d have never guessed, honestly.” Bobby puts out his cigarette in the ashtray, shifting in his seat. “Now I don’t know if you being single is a good thing or bad thing for me. Mind if I join you?”
Your cheeks sting with blush as you nod at Bobby, patting the empty side of the bed. “You can tease me all you want from here.”
“It’s tempting.” Bobby jokes, getting up from his seat and to the other side of the bed as he crawls in with you. “Plus, you still look really tired.”
“Maybe I am.” You peek back at him shyly. “Are you?”
“If it means I get to nap with you…” Bobby shrugs, “then damn am I ever exhausted.”
You let out a laugh, pulling the duvet over Bobby to keep him warm and covered next to you as the two of you curl up in bed.
For a moment, you can see a sense of shyness taking over Bobby’s disposition being this intimately close to you, but at the same time, the comfort level between both of you is undeniable.
“Is this okay?” Bobby smiles at you.
“Of course,” you blush and move closer over to him on the bed.
“In that case…” Bobby clutches onto the end of the duvet and blankets with both fists before leaning next to you and pulling it over both of your heads to hide underneath with a laugh.
With the two of you giggling amongst one another underneath the blankets, you blush and find yourself surprised to feel Bobby’s arms embracing you and pulling you closer to his body.
“Gotcha!” Bobby’s hands lovingly caress your hips.
There’s a playful wholesomeness you love about Bobby’s demeanor; no matter what he’s thinking or going through, Bobby’s constantly making you feel at ease, making you laugh, and that boyish smile over his face reassures you like none other.
You gasp a little and squeal as you feel Bobby pulling you onto his lap—still very much aware you’re half-naked and skin to skin with one another.
As you straddle Bobby’s lap, you clutch onto his shoulders for support as he nuzzles you, grazing the tip of his nose against your neck, which sends sparks of excitement going through you.
The contrast with the cold, chilly weather outside and the heated “play fighting” and sensual touching underneath the blankets has both of you matching your passion for one another.
Your breath hitches in a split second as you feel Bobby’s nose brush up against yours. Even under the blankets within one another’s warmth and unable to see very much, your heart thunders within your chest, knowing you’re only a mere inch away from Bobby’s lips.
Almost as if Bobby knows what you’re thinking—let alone what you want—he pulls the blankets off of both of your heads. With two heads of ruffled, messy hair peeking out, your face is flushed scarlet from blushing, but Bobby’s is barely any different.
Bobby grins at you as if he’s pleased with himself and anticipating your exact reaction. As the two of you breathe out softly before one another, Bobby’s eyes dart from your eyes to your lips and down to your breasts before making direct eye contact with you again.
Now it’s as if every little “moment” you’ve spent with Bobby can barely amount to how he makes you feel now. Every time you two have paused to look upon one another, every time you’ve touched Bobby, and he’s caressed you, every whisper exchanged, every look of shy desire has come down to this.
The beaming smile on Bobby’s lips slightly fades as he stares at your lips a little longer than your eyes. Your heart skips a beat as you notice, thinking it almost looks as if Bobby’s pondering if he should lean in and kiss you or ask you if you want to kiss him.
Bobby purses his lips as if he’s going to speak but lets out a soft breath instead, lengthening the sensual silence between you two.
Thankful your bra is still intact and on your chest, the sensation of your nipples hardening from being pressed up against Bobby’s chest is embarrassing, to say the least.
Bobby lets out a breathy giggle with you, giving a little nod before finally speaking. “You know what you are?” His tone is soft and warm.
“What am I?” You whisper back, gazing into Bobby’s eyes.
Again Bobby’s eyes find their way down to your lips, but an overwhelming sense of shyness takes over him now that he found himself easily able to brush off all the other times Bobby got this close to you.
He chuckles breathily again as if he’s hesitating, and the beaming smile is back on his face. He glances off to the side for a split second, clearly giving away how shy you’re making him, but Bobby’s looking right back at you again, not a moment too soon—tilting his head to the side and gazing back deeply into your eyes.
“You’re my girl.” Bobby whispers, his tone filled with wanting confidence.
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Your eyes slightly widen as you feel your cheeks and the tips of your eyes prickle up in the heat of a mixture of both shyness and embarrassment. Your eyes fall to Bobby’s hands that begin to gently caress over yours, this time giving your hands a little insistent tug.
“Right?” Bobby pulls one hand away to tilt your chin up gently and make you face him. “’Cause I want you to be my girl…”
“Yes.” You admit shyly, masking any desperation in your voice that you know you’d practically moan this out by now when it comes to Bobby.
“Yeah…” You notice Bobby’s eyes light up from your answer.
Bobby’s hands gingerly rub up and down your arms, and his heart races just as much as yours does. Bobby knows he’s wanted you from the start, but he’s had to hold back being eager because he cared and considered your feelings towards him above all.
You notice Bobby slowly inches his face closer to yours every passing moment, and you neither pull away nor fight what’s to come next. Before Bobby can even lean in to kiss you, you already feel your lips throbbing just to feel his, as if you can’t possibly wait any longer.
With the butterflies swarming in your gut and your face filled with the warmth of what seems to be a consistent blushing reaction to him, Bobby kisses you gently. He presses his wet lips against yours, and you eagerly part yours open to kiss him back.
Although it’s not your first kiss, it is the first one with a meaning that lasts more than a second. Each mere moment that passes by feels like a loving eternity as Bobby laces both hands with yours and gives them a squeeze while he continues kissing you.
Every feeling you had toward Bobby reveals itself throughout the deepening yet passionate kiss. How you even managed to crave this boy the way you do surprises you, but his warm and soft, pouty lips against yours is all you want to get lost in now.
Bobby smiles against the kiss and is equally insistent on holding back any further feelings of arousal and an erection kissing you half-naked like this. He makes sure to slowly part his lips away from you, and you can swear to yourself that your lips begin to ache the moment you two pull away.
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thesecrimsonstrings-if ¡ 3 years
Note
AAAAH I CAN'T WAIT to play as a fem MC who stole Julie from her husband rdbkyddv the angst, the hurt. Not being able to show their love openly and having to hide it, just for her husband to somehow find out and kill her 😭
Speaking of which, would he threaten/try to harm/pay someone to hurt MC? 👀 Could MC kill him after everything???
The door to the room swings open, scattering the wooden cabinets and chair holding it close everywhere. Philippe lets out a cry of terror when one of the the cabinet pieces lands dangerously close to the place he was cornering himself in.
Humans. So pathetic. Bravado in the face of something they can easily overcome. Cowering like a rat when their actions catch up to them.
The black veins around your eyes twitches dangerously. The blood that drips like tears from your eyes stains your dress red, but all of those things are the least of your worries.
With a speed that is humanely impossible, you reach the conspicuous space where Philippe was hiding in. Your hands wrapping around his collared neck, you lift him up even before he could process that you were right in front of him. Feet dangling uselessly, he thinks that he is under the clutches of a demon when he looks into your blood red iris, bright against the black sclera.
"Please," the nobleman manages to choke out. "I'll g-give you anything you desire! Riches, glory, i-influence! Just spare me, p-please!"
"Juliette," your voice barely above a whisper. "She is all I desire. Bring her back to me."
That's when Philippe stops struggling, knowing that it was the one thing he could not do. His fatal mistake. His downfall.
The last thing he feels before you tighten your grip is regret.
And sympathy.
The unspeakable agony in your burning red eyes— bright as the flames which took Juliette away from you. A single tear falls from Philippe's eyes, in-sync with the crack that emits as his neck is snapped under your force.
I'm sorry.
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I know this is a bit different from what you normally do but could you give some terrible and confusing short summaries of the fallout new Vegas Characters? If not, it’s quite alright I simply figured it might be fun. I love your stuff!
That's a fun prompt, lemme try 👀
Arcade Gannon - gay. loves himbos. hates everyone else
Craig Boone - Deacon's brother in eggs, but has depression squared. Protective of his hat. Wears sunglasses even on night shift
ED-E - Wall-E's flying cousin. Who has a gun. Speaks in beeps but the courier understands perfect. Not the player tho.
Lily Bowen - Grandma's fucking RIPPED
Raul Tejada - The most sarcastic not-old-but-old bastard in the west, but he doesn't mind you forgot, boss.
Rex - dog dog dog dog dog HE SWITCHES BRAINS AND HATES HATS AND RATS AND POSSIBLY CATS dog dog dog dog dog dog dog dog dog
Rose of Sharon Cassidy - Rose of Sharon (Hibiscus syriacus) I am consumed by love, to cure, desire, protection, life force, restoration of intuition, regeneration, joy, anger dissipated, consumed by love. (Isn't she a depressed merchant I met her once and I know nothing about her)
Veronica - lesbian who can and will beat you to death with her fists.
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Follows-Chalk: for some reason is less concerned about the forbidden places because the courier is with him. He's friend shaped. Nice hat
Joshua Graham - a missionary who wants to prove hes Christian so much he'll run at you in the middle of the night to quote the Bible. Also his love of guns totally isn't weird shut up.
Waking Cloud - please tell her about her husband don't be like me and not know this is a thing. Kickass lady who will also punch you to death
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Christine - lesbian who can and will kill you if you don't acknowledge her fears. Dean screwed her over
Dean Domino: petty for 200 years and will continue to be until he dies. Bitch whom I will beat to death with a stick and has a fragile fucking ego
Dog: He's trying his best and he only ate one bomb collar please just don't be mean. 1 of two in 1
God: somehow doesn't know how not to threaten you at every moment. 2 of two in 1
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Rouxie - REX GOTTA GIRLFRIEND REX GOTTA GIRLFRIEND REX GO
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shepherds-of-haven ¡ 5 years
Note
So how would the ROs react to meeting the MC's Ex who is really nice to the MC and obviously into them but when MC leaves the room the Ex starts talking crap about stealing MC away from RO. (RO and MC are together in this scenario)
Blade: absorbs this information silently… he’s confident MC could never be “stolen away” from him but he’s definitely going to do something about Ex… until then, though, he’s not going to show them his cards and give them a reaction, so he would just coolly ignore them and make them feel really awkward lol
Trouble: MC walks back into the room to find Trouble having grabbed Ex by the collar and hauled them up into the air with superhuman strength. Really depends on if he’s just staring silently into their soul with wordless fury or if he’s already pummeling the absolute bejesus out of them
Tallys: “Oh, I see. That’s how we’re going to play it.” When MC walks back into the room, she says, “Dear, Ex was just telling me the most fascinating things…” and tells them calmly and exactly what the Ex said… in front of the Ex! 
Shery: She’s so shook–they seemed so nice!–that she has tears in her eyes by the time MC walks into the room and has to excuse herself. If MC doesn’t follow her, she reads into that that they’re more concerned about Ex than her, and starts to panic… but then she gets angry, and she eventually hits a breaking point and yells at both MC (if they didn’t follow her) AND Ex!
Riel: Riel would smile thinly and inform Ex that he already has researched all of their weaknesses and has known them ever since he first learned of their existence. Do they really want to pull the trigger on this, or would it be better for all parties involved if they quietly left town?
Chase: Chase would just be holding his ribs and cracking up by the time MC came back into the room. He’d find the concept so hilarious and the Ex so pathetically unthreatening that they’d be silenced and ashamed by his raucous laughter. To add insult to injury he’d wipe the tears from his eyes and just be like, “…good joke!”
Red: he’d be thrown off and really uncomfortable by them saying they were going to steal MC. What is he supposed to say to that? Later on he’ll think of something cool like “I dare you to try” in the shower, but in the moment he’s like, “Uh… what?” Afterwards, though, he tells MC everything in a tone of bafflement: “So you’ll never guess what your ex just told me…” 
Ayla: she calmly crosses the room and punches Ex in the face. By the time MC comes back into the room, she’s sitting on their chest, having grabbed them by their forehead as she raps their head smartly against the floor 
Briony: I think it depends on how personally threatening she’d find the Ex (like does she think they’re better-looking than her, or make her feel insecure in some other way?): she could just have a big bright smile on her face and just kill them with kindness, like “oh wow, that’s really embarrassing that you said that out loud!” and cheerfully informing MC what they said when MC comes back, or she could get really dark and angered by the disrespect, like i could put you through the wall and not even blink, and you still underestimate me enough to talk to me like that? you must really not respect me at all... like gritting her teeth and shaking with the need to KILL but only just managing to calmly, softly say, “if you ever show your face to me or MC again after today, there won’t be enough of you to mail back to your family”. *MC comes back* :) “oh honey, Ex was just telling me they were on their way out!”
Lavinet: she gets perversely excited, like “👀 oh bitch? u… u challenge me?” and she’s just smiling wickedly and practically vibrating with energy by the time MC comes back into the room. Oh yes, she is going to organize this Ex’s downfall and teach them their place so quick. She doesn’t even need to tell MC what happened, she’s just looking forward to making Ex rue the day they ever thought they could go head-to-head with Lavinet Naveen… 
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