#that is until i chose to have those two pieces back to back and have tea goddammit

[aria0fgold]

Feeling... pretty not so good today... Like, yesterday my throat just started hurting and I couldn't sleep well at all and now it's still hurting a bit complete with a slight cold and a small headache and that's my cue to have a healthy routine until I feel better enough to continue with my day to day not so healthy routine.

[explorevenus]

dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles. 

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now. 

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems. 

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make. 

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space. 

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side. 

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you. 

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon." 

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly. 

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you. 

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?" 

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment. 

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while. 

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true. 

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall. 

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge. 

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it. 

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab. 

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. 

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged. 

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that. 

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open. 

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!" 

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response. 

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now. 

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression. 

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view. 

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you. 

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him. 

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct. 

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?" 

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!" 

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed? 

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato." 

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be. 

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot." 

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you. 

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--" 

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!" 

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile. 

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to. 

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!" 

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half. 

"Leon, quit--" 

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him. 

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner. 

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs. 

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh. 

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?" 

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him. 

"N-No," You admitted. 

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?" 

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him. 

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat. 

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind. 

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now." 

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles. 

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears. 

That just wouldn't do. 

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?" 

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you. 

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass. 

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either. 

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality. 

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in. 

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..." 

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first. 

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him. 

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure. 

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now. 

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago. 

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort. 

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

[seeminglydark]

A look-book and little break-down of Caro’s style and fashion Journey. I didn’t include their cheer uniform or GasCo uniform because those really didn’t influence their actual style much, other than the Varsity jacket and work jacket. I thought it would be fun to set it up almost like a magazine article and I’m in love with the results. I hope you enjoy it too. (The cover is my fave thing ever, just so you know.)

Here’s the Text:

Caro Greene, Cheerleader to Ghosthunter! An exclusive look at superstar Caro Greene’s style evolution. From femme to them!

The Teenage Years! Caro has been aware the high-femme style their parents chose for them was not the look they wanted for a long time, but didn’t know how to address it. Pairing their best friends tee-shirt over their Prom dress was the first step in figuring out their own personal style! From there, they tested out the route of borrowed too-big sweaters whenever they weren’t under the watchful eye of their family.

GasCo Era! Years of emotional neglect build until Caro chops off their hair, an asset more important to their parents than their happiness, and finds themself abruptly homeless, with nothing but some jeans, shirts and an oversized jacket belonging to their long-gone boyfriend. They get a job at the local gas station, and are gifted a new jacket that fits, with their new name on it, in their favorite color! More gender exploration leads them to a better haircut, and their first time trying a binder, and starting to not hate how they look.

Thrift stores, Sneakers, and T! Now in a new environment with supportive people at the GasCo, Caro discovers thrift stores and the tacky ‘80s aesthetic of their dreams. After years of other people controlling their body and looks, starting on low T is a big step in taking back control. They start wearing crop tops and sleeveless tees to show off new body hair, but also love chunky colored sweaters since they’re always cold. Sneakers go with everything, and when you’re short, the possibilities are endless in the kids shoes section.

Mil-Liminal! Caro’s podcast Mil-Liminal goes viral, and they are given the choice of staying faceless and anonymous, or taking the stage in live shows. They decide to do a face reveal, and that means choosing an iconic ‘look’ for their live performances. They choose their favorite color, GasCo Purple, and a jacket that is a blend of their varsity jacket and GasCo work jacket, two clothing pieces that always made them comfortable. They wear their trans identity on their sleeve, and top it off with the snapback look they donned years ago on their first venture ‘out’ as a teenager. The rest is history!

Current Caro! Which brings us to the present! There’s been some small changes, oversized sweaters and tees with a cosmic theme, which is new for the usually spookified Caro. They’re sporting white hair instead of their trademark blond, and have added a cross earring and a pendant to their Mil-Liminal uniform. A black snapback shows up as often as the purple one, and there’s a new bounce in their step, but perhaps they’ve just been indulging in too much coffee these days.

Caro Green is from my webcomics Seemingly Dark and Mil-Liminal, and podcast Mil-Liminal.

[the-winter-spider]

What I Have | B. Barnes

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Probably the fluffiest piece ive written lol

A/N: I was listening to What I Have by Kelsea Ballerini and well here we are lol

—-

The year was 2024, over one hundred years since you were born—105, to be exact. Your life hadn’t turned out at all like you had dreamed or hoped it would.

You were supposed to marry the boy next door once the war was done. You’d picked out your wedding dress while window shopping with your best friend, even before he proposed. You made a scrapbook, meticulously curating hairstyles and makeup looks, debating over the choices as if they were the most pressing decisions in the world.

You sketched out your dream house, selecting the colors, the flowers for the front garden, and the vegetables you would surely grow in the back. You even chose the font for your new last name on the mailbox.

You had each of your children’s names picked out—three, to be exact. Two boys and one girl, you had hoped. Everything was a dream, but it seemed so close, so possible, as if it should have been a reality. You should be dead by now, having lived a full life, with your children who should have been walking the earth with their children, your grandchildren.

But everything went wrong. Literally, everything possible went wrong.

Bucky fell off a train and died. He actually fell off a train, and they declared him dead. In reality, he had lost his arm, survived the fall because Hydra had already experimented on him. They brainwashed him, like something out of a twisted fairy tale, turning him into a deadly assassin. Your beautiful, blue-eyed Bucky, your sweet Bucky, became a killer. A Bucky you would never see again, because even though he was still here, and you were so thankful for that, he would never be your Bucky again.

And then there was Steve. Of course, Steve found him, because of course! And let’s not forget that your best friend, Steve, who was once smaller than you, was injected with a serum that not only tripled his size but turned him into a superhero because, yes, apparently those needed to exist. Of course, he went off to war, driven by a need for revenge for his best friend, your fiancé Bucky. And of course, he had to be noble, going down for the cause, leading everyone to believe he was dead. But of course, he wasn’t. They found him, frozen but alive, because he was Captain America, and that’s just what happens.

And then there was you, consumed by grief, first losing the love of your life and then your best friend. You begged, on your knees, begged Howard Stark to use you as his test subject for cryogenic testing. You couldn’t bear to be here without your boys. He hesitated because he loved Steve, and he knew Steve wouldn’t want this for you. But when you threatened that if he didn’t, you would take your own life, he relented. So, of course, it worked because it was Howard, and he was a Stark. But decades passed, and the year he was supposed to wake you up, The Winter Soldier murdered him. So, as usual, you stayed frozen, but alive, until Howard’s son, Tony, found you in his father’s hidden lab.

You woke up to a world that was not your own, a century too late for the life you were supposed to live. The world had moved on, but you hadn’t. Your friends were legends now, mythologized beyond recognition. And you, well, you were the ghost of what could have been.

The years that followed were a blur of new faces, new battles, and new griefs. You tried to adapt, to find a place in this future that had no room for you. But every corner of this brave new world reminded you of the past, of the life that slipped through your fingers.

And then one day, while sifting through old boxes in Tony’s lab, you found something. It was an old, faded book, as soon as you saw the brown cover you heart dropped you knew what it was, it waa your scrapbook. The cover had an old faded photo of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken on a sunny day before the world went mad. You barely recognized the girl in the photo, with her bright smile and unbroken heart. But there she was, a relic of a time that now felt like a dream.

You realised then that maybe you didn’t belong in this world. Maybe you never did. But as long as you were here, you could try—try to make sense of the pieces left behind, to find some small measure of peace in the chaos.

And that’s exactly what you did. Even though you didn’t have the life you had once dreamed of, you still had them. And in what world does all that trauma happen, and you still end up alive with your boys?

You picked up the dusty book, holding it close to your heart, as you navigated through the compound, following the sound of laughter coming from the living room. You paused just outside the doorway, soaking in the warmth of his laugh—a sound you feared you might never hear again after Bucky began recovering from his trauma. But here it was, filling the room, and even though it wasn’t the same Bucky you knew decades ago, his laugh was unchanged, and it made your heart swell.

Rounding the corner, you saw Steve clutching his chest in joy, playfully shoving Sam, who was grinning widely.

Bucky’s eyes immediately found yours; he could always find you in any room. “Hi, doll,” he said, getting up to kiss your cheek and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.

“Hi, Buck. Hi, Stevie, Sammy,” you greeted them, settling in beside Bucky.

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Bucky glanced down at the book in your arms. “What’s that?”

Steve’s smile faded into something more serious as he noticed the book, instantly recognizing it. “Is that what I think it is?”

You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “Stark… he kept it. I haven’t opened it yet. I thought… I thought we could do it together.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, his curiosity piqued.

“It’s my life,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “There are a few pages of what I thought it would turn out to be… but after everything happened…” You paused, taking a steadying breath. The memories of losing Bucky and Steve were still fresh, no matter how much time had passed. “I never planned or dreamed of anything else. It just felt silly without you boys. So, I just filled it with photographs.”

“Photographs of who?” Sam asked, leaning forward.

“Everyone,” you replied softly, glancing between Bucky and Steve. “Peggy and Mrs. Rogers,” you said, meeting Steve’s gaze. You saw the emotion in his eyes at the mention of his mother. “Becca and Winnie, Mr. Barnes,” you continued, feeling Bucky tense slightly at the mention of his mother and sister, their faces now distant memories. “I even have Howard and the Commandos.” You smiled a little. “But mostly, it’s us—all of us.”

Bucky reached out, gently taking the book from your hands. His fingers brushed the worn cover, the room fell silent as the weight of the past settled around you all.

“Let’s open it together,” Steve suggested, his voice thick with emotion. He moved closer, his presence a steady anchor as you all gathered around the book. Sam stayed distant, letting the three of you have your moment but still staying there.

Bucky opened the cover, and the first page revealed a photograph of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken in a simpler time. The three of you looked so young, so hopeful. You felt Bucky’s hand tighten around yours as he stared at the image, memories rushing back. It was a photo from your 16th birthday, the day he had gifted you the book.

“I gave this to you,” Bucky said quietly, the realization settling over him.

You nodded. “For my birthday. You wrote…” You trailed off, pointing to the top left corner of the front of the book.

He read the words aloud, his voice filled with emotion. “Happy 16th birthday to my best girl. I hope you fill these pages with your hopes and dreams. I can only hope that somewhere in amongst them, I’ll be a part of it. With all the love, Bucky.”

Sam smiled, leaning back in his seat. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Buck?”

You watched as Bucky’s cheeks flushed a light shade of red at the comment, and you gave his knee a gentle squeeze, feeling the warmth of the old affection between you.

“For y/n, he was crazy,” Steve chimed in, grinning. “You should have seen him—head over heels is an understatement. Try obses—”

Before Steve could finish, Bucky reached behind you and gave him a playful shove. “Can it, Rogers,” he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Steve just laughed, catching himself before he toppled over. “You know it’s true.”

You chuckled, resting your head against Bucky’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Bucky’s hand found yours again, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “Neither would I.”

As you all shared a quiet moment, the weight of the years seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of old memories and the comfort of the present. Bucky turned the page, revealing more photographs—snapshots of moments that had once seemed so ordinary but now felt like treasures.

The pages turned slowly, revealing a life that could have been—a wedding dress sketched out, a house with a picket fence, names of children that never came to be. And then, the photographs—snapshots of moments frozen in time. Peggy’s bright smile, Mrs. Rogers’ kind eyes, the mischievous grins of Becca and Winnie, Howard’s confident stance, the Commandos’ camaraderie. But the most frequent faces were your own, Bucky’s, and Steve’s, from a time when the world was both simpler and infinitely more complex.

Each image told a story. There was one of you and Steve dancing at a neighbourhood block party, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand. Another showed Bucky in his military uniform, giving you a wink as he prepared to head off to basic training. Then there were pictures of Steve and Bucky goofing around, each trying to outdo the other in some silly stunt, and you caught in the middle, rolling your eyes but smiling all the same.

There were pictures of Bucky and you around the campfire on the night before everything changed—before he fell off the train. Bucky paused on that photo, his eyes lingering on it. “That was the night before…” he said softly.

You nodded, squeezing his hand, understanding the weight of those words.

“Night before what?” Sam asked, his voice gentle.

“Before I fell,” Bucky replied, those three words carrying a lifetime of pain and loss. The room grew still, the significance of that moment hanging heavy in the air. Sam didn’t say anything more, sensing the depth of emotion in Bucky’s words.

Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the photo, his voice quiet as he continued. “It was the last time I felt so much joy… I feel it now, but it was different then.”

Steve nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. “I get it, Buck.”

“Me too,” you added, your voice trembling slightly. “I keep thinking about what was supposed to be, what should have been.” You paused, wiping a tear from your eye. “I don’t understand why it all happened the way it did—why I didn’t get the life I thought I was going to.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his hand gently reaching out to wipe away your tears, his touch as tender as it had always been.

The room fell into a reverent silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts, the weight of your shared history settling over you like a heavy blanket. Finally, Sam spoke, his voice soft and full of understanding. “You’ve lived a hell of a life.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you wiped away a stray tear. “It wasn’t what I planned,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “But I wouldn’t trade it. Not if it meant losing this—losing you… both of you.”

Bucky’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “We didn’t get the life we dreamed of, but we got each other. And that’s enough.”

Steve leaned back, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “We’ve been through so much, but we’re still here. Together.”

Sam smiled, the warmth in his expression offering a quiet reassurance. “That’s what matters in the end. Not what you lost, but what you’ve kept.”

“Till the end of the line,” Steve spoke, the words heavy with emotion and depth.

“Till the end of the line,” Bucky echoed, pulling you closer to his side.

You glanced around the room at the faces of the people who had become your family—the ones who had stood by you through the darkest of times.

As the pages of the scrapbook turned, the photographs shifted from black-and-white to colour, reflecting the passage of time. The images grew fewer as the years became harder, but each one was more precious because of it.

Finally, you reached the last page, where an empty space awaited a new photograph. You looked up at Bucky and Steve, both of them gazing at the book with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude.

“You should take a new photo,” Sam suggested, his voice soft but certain. “One to mark this moment.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that melted away the years. “Yeah, we should.”

Steve grinned. “I’ll get the camera.”

As Steve stood to retrieve a camera, you leaned into Bucky, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand. This was the life you had, and it was more than enough. The empty space in the book was no longer a reminder of what was lost, but a promise of what was yet to come—a new chapter, filled with love, laughter, and the people who mattered most.

Sam took the camera from Steve, ready to take the picture. But just as he was about to snap the shot, you paused. “Wait!”

“What? You don’t have food in your teeth, but your hair…” Sam teased with a smirk.

“Well, I was going to say I want you in the picture too, but…” You trailed off

“No, no! I’m sorry, you’re beautiful… perfect—”

“Sam, watch it, that’s my girl,” Bucky warned, a protective edge to his voice.

Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling. “The whole world knows that, Buck.” He placed the camera on the tripod and took a seat beside Steve. “You sure you want me in this?”

“Of course, Sammy! You’re one of us now,” you insisted, smiling warmly at him.

Sam’s expression softened, and he nodded, touched by your words. As the camera clicked, capturing the four of you together, you knew that this was the memory that would fill that final page—the proof that even after everything, you still had your boys, old and new, and they still had you.

The book might never hold the life you once dreamed of, but it would hold the life you had lived—the one you had fought for, the one you had loved.

And that was more than enough.

[violetpixiedust]

thinking about spending a day at the beach with your bf jj and the rest of the pogues. ♡

18+. afab reader. no description of appearance. fluff/smut. use of ‘papa’ once, mentions of spanking. shy!kook!reader x dom!jj.

in between searching for the cross, evading the law, and intense fights with the kooks, a beach day was certainly a nice escape from an otherwise hectic lifestyle.

the sand is warm and pale beneath your knees as you sit in your cute little bikini beside jj’s damp body. he’s laid along a ratty old towel, littered with a few holes and fraying at the edges. beads of saltwater meld themselves within his tan skin from his previous surfing exertion, eager to soak up the sunlight with you now that he’s gotten his adrenaline fix. you had been searching for seashells and sea glass with kiara while the boys were out on the water. ending up with a good sized pouch by the time your boyfriend ran up to meet you on the shore, shaking out his soaking dirty blonde locks at you like a dog. squeals and joyful giggles left your lipgloss coated pout, strumming alongside the seagulls.

absentmindedly, you hum when your manicured nails sort through your small treasures, careful not to let them get lost in the never ending sand. it isn’t until you notice your boyfriend’s baritone voice humming alongside you that you burst into giggles. you meet his sea-foam blue eyes from where they peak out above his black sunglasses, frames falling to the bridge of his lightly freckled nose. one of your pearly teeth reach out to bite along your plush bottom lip, shyly taking in the handsome sight of jj laid beside you.

damp swim trunks hang low on his paler hips, golden happy trail leading you up to the toothpick balancing between his freshly licked lips. the pogue grins slyly in amusement, satisfaction at your sudden shyness running through his veins like the sweetest high. “c’mere, princess. up.” you don’t have time to check for the whereabouts of your friends before the large palm of jj’s hand crudely reaches underneath your thigh, skin burning as he leads you to straddle his torso. you briefly hear pope gagging and john b’s amused laughter behind you, but ultimately choose to ignore them when jj’s calloused fingertips reach out to play with the hem of your swimsuit, effectively distracting you. “‘gonna show me those pretty little rocks takin’ up all of your attention now?”

you nod with a soft smile, shyly avoiding jj’s heady gaze for a moment, unknowing to the way his expression softens incredibly at the sweetness emitting from you. floaty and radiant, like his own personal angel. his calloused thumbs rub soothing circles along your hips as he watches you begin to explain each piece of sea glass you chose, head feeling as if it were underwater still with how gorgeous you are. his ringed fingers faintly shake when he thinks about how undeserving he is for someone like you. an angel from figure eight. outer banks pride and joy. who used to send him a shy little wave at the boneyard, eyelashes fluttering when he would wave back, his split lip pulling up into a smirk at the dazed look that overtook you. the girl who now jumped onto the back of his bike in boarder-line scandalous mini skirts, sweet and powdery perfume clouding the pogue’s judgement for a second too long. until your freshly done nails would dig into his waist, melodic voice urging your pogue boyfriend to hurry up and drive. the overprotective housekeeper would attempt to chase after the two of you with a broom in her wrinkled hand, before being buried by the dust billowing beneath the bike’s spinning wheels every single time.

it isn’t until you hold up a few pieces of sea glass to the side of his face with a cheer of excitement that he tunes back in. “mm, what’s the squealing for, cupcake?”

“i found a piece that looks like your eyes. see!” you bend over to get a closer look at the comparison, completely unaware of the way your tits push up together near jj’s face. a shaky breath leaves your boyfriend’s bitten lips, his suddenly rosy cheeks startling you for a moment before you feel the noticeable shift of his hips beneath you. instead of gasping cutely and sitting up like jj expected you to, your moment of realization morphs into a sly expression.

and jj knew that look.

“don’t-“ you riskily pay no mind to your boyfriend’s warning tone, “innocently” slinking back along his body with a soprano sigh. your manicured nails rake over his abdomen on your path backwards, cupped heat just brushing past the now obvious tent in jj’s swim trunks-

instantly, the pogue manhandles you into place. you squeak at the firmness of his ringed grip, heart pumping with adrenaline when his sun kissed hands force your back against his warm chest in record speed. shark tooth necklace digging between your shoulder blades. your bum pushes against jj’s erection with a final maneuver- now out of sight, but still painfully hard against you.

“whoa. chill out, mike tyson-“ john b drunkly remarks with a surprised laugh before sipping on his nearly finished can of pbr, blissfully unaware of the previous situation. meanwhile, sarah smirks knowingly at the two of you from beside her aloof boyfriend, meeting your playful gaze with one of her own.

you’re about to suggest a game with a mischievous wiggle of your hips, clearly not learning your lesson- before jj’s long fingers cup your jaw from behind, gripping you in place. the blonde’s rosy lips press to your ear, his left hand intertwining with your own smaller one, voice low. “y’not going anywhere, duchess. need you to calm down and behave. unless you want me to spank you raw on this beach in front of our friends, hm?”

your breath hitches with surprise at the threat as you watch kiara and pope run back from the ocean dripping saltwater, jj’s words echoing in the now hollow structure of your head. “and if you’re good,” the blonde nods your head up and down for you like a ragdoll for good measure, smirk curling along his chapped lips with faux innocence gleaming from his eyes. he’s more than aware of the pressure building between your pretty legs, your glossy eyes looking up at him for guidance. not to mention the shivers that clatter down your spine at the idea of being put in your place for everyone on the beach to see. all he could do was harden at the thought. “papa’ will let ya show him which one of these rocks he can put on your pretty little finger soon, yeah?”.

the pogue waits for you to nod your own head ‘yes’ like a big girl before placing a kiss on the crown of your head. your shy expression stays hidden against his heart, a giddy smile drawing across your glossy lips as you think about your future with jj.

needless to say, you behaved for the rest of the afternoon.

[gavisfanta]

gavi with a breeding kink aftet seeing you playing with his nieces and nephews (for the sake of this just pretend like he has some) 😮‍💨

BEDTIME - GAVI

summary: gavi and you are babysitting and after you put the kids to bed gavi tells you about his desire

a/n: changed it a bit, hope you dont mind anon

warning: smut, not proofread

"I think it's slowly time to go to bed." You mumbled while you stared at the small boy infront of you.

You and Gavi had to babysit some family friend's kids. Because they didn't want you to be alone and lonely while the kids sleep they asked you to invite Gavi too.

So now you were done playing with them and it had turned 8pm.

"Okay." The younger boy nodded his head. He was around the age of 5, but the girl who was 8 and very distracted by the tv didn't wanna go.

"Can I stay here?" She asked and looked at you.

"No, come on it's time for bed." You stood up while Gavi remained sitting on the sofa. She looked at the spanish midfielder and then stood up.

"Can you come with me?" Maria asked and then Gavi flashed you a quick smile.

"I'll put them both to sleep, don't worry." Gavi winked at you and you still followed him upstairs. The younger boy whose name was Ale ran to his room which was right next to Marias, the girls.

Maria was obsessed with Gavi the second she saw him. She literally played with him all day and when the two of you sat down outside in the garden she even kissed his cheek.

You knew that she had that one little girl crush on your boyfriend like the one you always had on the lifeguards at the beach.

Trying to impress them when you had no chance due to them being 3 times your age. But you rather considered it cute, you also thought about it that a long time ago, you used to be like that too.

Ale also loved Gavi, but he liked you a bit more, however when it came to playing football he of course chose Gavi.

And after Gavi managed to put the kids to sleep he made his way downstairs again.

So sitting on the couch, complete silence in the house, Gavi turned to you.

"That was awesome of you, I didn't know you were that good with kids." Gavi smiled at you and your cheeks started to color themselves red.

"I don't know" You shrugged your shoulders, Gavi then got closer to you and leaned to your neck.

"Imagine if those were our children. Imagine you with a baby inside your belly," He paused for a second." my baby." Gavi whispered against your neck. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and his hands started roaming your body.

"Fuck." You muttered under your breath as you threw back your head and Gavi started planting sloppy kisses along your vein on your neck.

He then pulled away after some time snd you two made eye contact. Without a thought your lips collided into eachother and started moving at a fast pace.

Eventually you sat into his lap, feeling the tent in his joggers. Then he pulled away.

"You really wanna do it in here?" Gavi raised his brows while he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You turn me on, I can't wait for them to get home with my dick hard." Gavi whispered aggressively and you shook your head while smiling a little.

"You're an idiot." You stood up for a second so that he could take off his boxers and sweatpants.

"Take off your pants, if so, we won't have much time to get changed." Gavi nudged his head towards you and you also took off your pants, leaving you only in your red thong and him with nothing covering his lower body.

"You wanna have my babies amor?" Gavi teased. You felt your arousal getting hotter when he looked up at you, walking over to him and sitting down on his lap, a thin and wet piece of fabric separating you two.

However, you didn't wait long until you lifted up your hips and then Gavi pulled down his shorts to his knees. His hard dick basically jumping out of his boxers, standing tall below your core. Gavi then grabbed it and with his other hand he rubbed his fingers along your folds. You whimpered at the touch and you slowly slid down his dick, Gavi holding it at the bottom to stabilize it.

"I'm gonna give you so many children, you'd look so hot pregnant." Gavi whispered into your ear. You whimpered quietly as he then grabbed your hips and moved you up and down carefully, slow at first and then his pace speeding up.

A light and silent sound of skin clapping against eachother lingered around in the room. The only thing you prayed for was that the children wouldn't wake up.

You accidentally moaned loudly to which Gavi responded with sticking two of his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around them, wetting them in your Salvia. His hand then slipped down to your clit and started rubbing it in figures of eight.

You moaned against his skin as you lowered your head into the crook of his shoulder.

He kept thrusting up into you until your legs began to shake and the warm knot in your abdominal kept growing. Gavi noticed the way you clenched around him and only fastened his pace.

Eventually you both came, his dick shooting ropes of his cum into your pussy as you sunk down on him, moaning and whining.

Hs threw his head back as he tried to catch his breath. "You gonna have my children hm?" He asked, he was so drunk from the orgasm that he forgot that you're on birth control. But maybe he just ignored it.

"Now let's get you cleaned up without waking up the children." Gavi said after a few minutes.

As you two cleaned up a bit and got dressed you sat down on the couch again and only 15 minutes later your family's friends came home.

"Thank you so much for paying attention to the kids." The mother thanked you two as you stood at the door.

"Oh no worries at all." You smiled and the both of you then went to the car.

"I just hope the kids wont tell her about the noise the monster under her bed made." Gavi joked and you gave him a weird look.

"What noise?" You knitted your eyebrows together and the next second Gavi started to intimidate you moaning. You immediately smaked his chest with your hand and looked the other way while he kept laughing.

"You're my favorite monster, if that makes you feel better."

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise 3

Part 1

Part 2

Word count: 2K

Pairings: Jake Seresin X Reader

A/N: Round 3 of Pink Promise! I have a few more I want to put out, but if you have something you want to see in them let me know! It's been a lot of fun writing these. Thanks for reading!!

The two of you were sitting around Jake’s house eating takeout Chinese food. Some old movie was playing on the TV. For some reason Jake preferred the classics but you found them to be incredibly boring. It was often you found yourself in this same position, sprawled out on his couch, sitting in a comfortable silence as you watched another movie you couldn’t retell the plot of.

Which is why in that moment you chose to say, “I got into medical school.”

It was nearly comical watching him choke on the spoonful of rice. He sat up and looked over to you, still coughing up those last pieces. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?” The look he gave you was disbelief mixed with something else. Something you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t think I stuttered.” You took a bite of an egg roll and waited for his mind to catch up.

“Medical school? For doctors?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of questions. “Yes, like for doctors. I thought pilots were supposed to be smart?”

He shook his head and laughed, “When the hell did you have time for that?”

You finished off the egg roll and shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think I do all day while you’re at work?”

This path you took was one you had been on for a while Everyone saw you as the girl who parties, the one who doesn’t care about the outcome of her decisions. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. And instead of showing people how wrong they were about you, you let them form their very low opinions. Pleasing people was never one of your strong points and a few judgmental comments weren’t going to tear you down.

Jake was clearly still processing things but paused the movie to give you his full attention. What he said next though, nearly made you cry right then and there.

“I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Holy crap you are going to be a doctor.” He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. It was then the look on his face made more sense. It was a look of pride, and one you hadn’t gotten before.

“Tell me all about it. Where are you going? When do you start?” His enthusiasm for this made you feel something that part of you was afraid to feel. This man was slowly becoming your best friend, which is why you pushed down all other feelings. No need to ruin a good thing.

“Well, I decided I wanted to stay close to home and was lucky enough to get into the University of California San Diego. My GPA was a little short of what they wanted, but I killed the interview. Something about your dad dying while fighting for his country tends to pull on heartstrings.”

Jake shook his head, “You did not pull that card.”

You waved a hand at him, “Please. I would be dumb not to. I also threw in about staying close to the base in case anything happened to Bradley. And that I might follow in the family footsteps one day.”

Jake’s head tilted at the last part. “You are not enlisting. I draw the line at that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Down tiger. All I meant was that I would want to work at a hospital close to base. The one all of you get sent to when something goes wrong.”

Relief was evident as he exhaled. “I don’t think the military could handle you anyway.”

It was true. You were never one to follow orders well. Plus having a third Bradshaw in the Navy would be too much for anyone.

You picked the remote back up and resumed the movie. While Jake thought this was a big deal, you were ready to get back to the movie night. You still had a few months until school started anyway.

The movie had been playing for a few minutes, but you could feel eyes on you every now and then. “Is something the matter?”

You glanced over to the man next to you and watched him shake his head. “Nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all.”

“Well, either turn your attention back to this movie or I’m putting something better on. Maybe something made in this decade.” A chuckle graced your ears and a quick, “Yes ma’am.”

It wasn’t until the credits were running that he said, “You better not forget about me when you become a big shot doctor.”

“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried.” And it was the truth. That one drunken call has led you to one of the best things in life.

“Pinky promise you won’t.” He had his signature smirk on full display as he held out his pinky for you to shake on. You happily gave him yours, thrilled that the Top Gun pilot has accepted this form of promises.

When he pulled away, he asked, “What made you want to become a doctor?” It was a simple question with a very loaded answer.

“When my mom was sick, it was just me and her most of the time. Bradley was off at the academy, something she wouldn’t tell him but absolutely hated. And I found myself wanting to give her some sort of joy to offset my brother’s choices. I made her a promise that I was going to graduate and get a degree in something. Something that would make a difference. It took a while to figure out what that was, but the look of pride on her face when I said medical school, I only wish I had a photo of that single moment.

“When there were days I questioned if I could do it or if I even still wanted to, I think back to that conversation and all doubts went out the window. There are very few things in life I want more than graduating from med school which is why I worked so hard to even get it.” Jake wiped a tear that I didn’t know had fallen.

“She would’ve been happy that you accomplished a goal while still holding onto yourself. That you had fun while doing it. Not too many people can find that balance which tells me you are going to do amazing. But if you ever need some sort of motivation or a simple distraction from school, you can call me anytime sweetheart.”

And just like that, you knew Jake Seresin was going to be in your life for as long as you could keep him.

After the incident a little while back, your brother made an effort to be more present in your everyday life. Which meant he was currently over at your apartment criticizing how you were making dinner.

“At any point you can either cook yourself or shut up.” Bradley held up his hands in surrender.

“All I’m saying is that you are going to burn the bottom of it if you don’t stir it more often.” You turned around from the food and pointed the utensil in your hand at him. Which just so happened to be a knife.

“Listen here bird boy. My house, my rules which means you can sit your judgmental ass down before I do something you can’t bounce back from. Last I checked you needed all ten fingers to fly.”

Again, he held up his hands and thankfully kept his mouth shut while you finished up. It wasn’t too much longer before you were dishing out food for the two of you and sitting down to eat it like a normal family. The two of you sat in silence while you ate, neither of you knowing what to say.

It was like this most nights. After your mom died Bradley threw himself into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the two of you grew apart as the years went on, leaving you to call your brother only when you needed help. This is what formed his new picture of you. He only saw you when you were at your worst.

But he was trying and the least you could do was meet him halfway.

“You know how you see me as careless and not at all organized with life?” You watched as your brother sighed and shook his head.

“We have gone over this. That is not how I see you. We just have different goals in life and that’s fine.” You waved him off.

“Right. Well, I am pleased to tell you that I’m not as big as a fuck up as you might think. I start med school in a few months.” Bradley dropped his spoon, sending food splattering on the counter.

You watched his facial expressions, looking or hoping for the one you got the other day from Jake. It wasn’t that you needed the validation from your brother, but it would be nice to see it for once.

“Med school? The school where you go to become a doctor?” You snorted at the similar question Jake had asked.

“What is with pilots and their lack of common sense. Yes, Bradley. The school for doctors.” You grabbed a napkin to wipe up the drops of food while he tried to form words.

“How?” You froze at that single word. It shouldn’t surprise you, the lack of faith this man had in you. But it still stung.

“The same way anyone gets in. Ace a test, get decent grades, and interview well. Not too hard when you think about it.” Which wasn’t exactly true. You had a lot of all-nighters, tears shed at the near impossible dream, and many bumps along the way. But you had to do it.

“Mom and dad would be proud of you.” Your eyes met his and you saw something different in them. It wasn’t the pride you were looking for but sadder. Like the weight of those words cut through him.

“I know. I was always trying to follow in your footsteps, even if I did take a longer path. But you know dad would’ve been ecstatic to see you wear the patch he tried so hard for. And mom, well mom would’ve eventually gotten over her fears of you being a pilot and saw how you were born for this. You know that, right?”

He cleared his throat and focused back on his food. “Anyone else know? It’s a pretty big deal.”

You picked up on the change of topic and said, “Your arch nemesis knows. Besides that, the friend list is pretty scarce these days.”

He slowly nodded his head, “You seem to spend a lot of time with him.”

“He’s a good friend. No need to look too far into it. I know the two of you have your issues, but he’s never given me a reason to question his intentions.”

Bradley hummed in response, but he didn’t fully believe you when it comes to only being friends. He’s seen the way Jake is at work, but with you he was completely different. You might not see it or are trying to ignore it, but he knew better.

“Are you and him still at each other’s throats?” Bradley rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s insufferable.”

You grabbed the finished plates and took them to the sink. “You know what would get under his skin? If you laughed at everything he said. I think that would rile him up good.”

Bradley squinted his eyes at you, “I thought the two of you were friends? Why would you tell me that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “He is always listening to me complain about you. This way he can do it for once so it’s more even.”

Bradley threw his napkin at you and shook his head, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

You threw him one of Jake’s signature smirks, “But I’m your jerk.”

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

[martiniblues]

MOVE (YOU GOT THE RHYTHM) lee chan

pairing dancer!chan x dancer!reader

synopsis you had been paired with chan for a new piece he had choreographed for an upcoming stage. as tensions between you grew, private rehearsals began to blur the line between professionalism and desire.

genre this is so self indulgent as a dancer so lol, lots of tension and quite suggestive but no explicit smut, slight miscommunication, lots of fluff towards the end.

wc 1k

song move by taemin

“okay nice work everyone, we will pick back up tomorrow.” chan shut off the music and turned towards the rest of the dancers scattered about the studio. you leaned with your back to the wall length mirror, nursing your water bottle like a small child coming back inside from a playdate. he looked at you with a small smile, a part of him wishing the flushed look on your face had been due to his own antics and not the heat of the room.

as the dancers bid their goodbyes, you stayed motionless zoning out onto a specific spot on the floor. a bright orange strip of tape, positioned to represent the center of the room suddenly wasn't just a measly piece of tape. it represented where you and chan had been only minutes prior, chest to back, his hand splayed across your stomach, your face turned towards his, swaying effortlessly with the vibrations coming through the speakers.

in your time dancing with chan you couldn't help but feel gravitated towards him. not only did his professionalism the second the music began have you holding your breath and begging the swarm of butterflies in your stomach to calm down, chan also had a side to him that most of the dancers never saw.

since you had been selected as his main partner for the performance, one on one practices were common at the beginning of his creation. while in group rehearsals chan took the role as teacher more than serious, when it was just the two of you in the large studio, he seemed to let go and just be chan.

"are you okay?" you suddenly choked on your water, the sight of chan catching you off guard and slightly embarrassed. "yeah-yeah im fine just a little tired you know." you spit out as you regained your breath and tried to hide your now reddened face.

"you sure? you've seen a bit off today." his face tilted like a confused cat, trying to read your mind and ease you of any doubts or frustrations. he just couldn't let you know that, though.

you scoffed, misreading his words as an insult. "okay, i know i slipped up at the beginning that one time but that doesn't mean im off." you felt embarrassed to say the least. these feelings for chan you kept bottled up caused you more agitation than anything at this point.

from the second you saw his photo on your screen you found chan attractive, but then again who didn't? it wasn't until your late night rehearsals with just the two of you where you began to be attracted to him.

the way his brows would scrunch at your stupid jokes or the way his eyes shifted into a darker hue when focused. noticing the way he tapped his hand on his thigh when picking up counts or the way his hand always hovered on your skin when dancing. never fully on you but radiated just enough heat to let you know he was there. you began picking up on the small things that made him who he was.

"that's not what i meant." chan watched as you made your way to your things across the room, fighting the urge to reach out and stop you. he knew how amazing of a dancer you were, familiar with the way you managed to have your own eye-catching style while still maintaining sync and rhythm.

those being some of the reasons he chose you as his partner in the beginning with no hesitation. as time with you passed though, he began accepting the more taboo reasons he wanted you to himself on stage.

you reached down, checking the time on your phone before reaching for your bag. you've got to move on, you thought before the feeling of a hand on your shoulder halted your exit.

"you know that's not what i meant, right? you were perfect." he quickly let out, eyes widening at the sudden confession he hadn't meant to let slip. you mirrored his shocked expression, expecting criticism and not a heartfelt compliment.

his hand still remained on your shoulder, all of its weight searing into your skin. "thank you, chan." you thanked him, unsure of what to do. you didn't want to leave, the atmosphere sending you back to those practices you loved so much.

if it wasn't for his arm growing tired, chan would have never noticed his hand was still resting on your bare shoulder. it felt so natural, like his hand longed to be there, needed to be there. he quickly let it fall though, laughing lightly to try and ease the ever present awkwardness in the air.

"if you still feel a bit uneasy though..." his words made your eyes lock with his dark ones, the same irises that somehow grew darker despite them being nearly black. "we could practice a bit more, just the two of us."

your heart threatened to spill from your throat. you wanted chan more than anything, but the thought of being in here alone with him after so long had you worrying for your own well-being.

"you sure? i don't wanna keep you from your rest or anything. my place has enough space for me to practice-"

"i know that if we don't practice now, you will be the one not getting any sleep from your mind racing. i'll be fine i promise." he cut you off in the sweetest tone you had ever heard. if you hadn't been so entranced with his face you could have sworn honey dripped from his lips.

"okay." you agreed, dropping your things back to their spot on the floor and moved to the center of the room. silence enveloped the room as chan reconnected his phone to the speakers, the only sound being your sneakers squeaking against the wooden floors.

chan played the last thirty seconds of the song so that it would restart with him beside you. as you two waited for the song to replay, you swore you could hear his breathing grow heavier as your body moved close to his to settle into your beginning position. his chest pressed into your back, causing you to feel his heart beat with yours, but this time it seemed to double.

practice had ended ages ago, there's no way he could still be worked up on adrenaline. there had to be some logical explanation as to why his heart felt like it was racing with yours.

there wasn't much time to ponder on your thoughts as the music began, your muscle memory kicking in. chan's body moved from yours, creating space for the two of you to perform as you usually did. but just as you missed his touch, you resented it even more every time he came close to you. no matter if it was for a second or a whole eight count, your body erupted into flames.

you thought of yourself as a level headed, sensible human being but all of those morals flew out the window when chan was in your radius.

the bridge of the song seemed to fade into a dull buzz as chan made eye contact with you, drawing closer. this is nothing different from what you always do, you tried to ease your heart trying to fly out of your chest. you and chan were doing the choreography as you practiced, but for some reason this felt different.

it was as if he was purposely pulling you closer and looking into your eyes for longer than he needed to. your arm wrapped around his shoulders ready for the next move, but instead of the usual dip, chan's hands gripped your waist and pulled your body as close to his as he could.your breath hitched, searching his face as to why he suddenly decided to change the choreography.

"can i please." his words came out breathless and if it hadn't been for your proximity you wouldn't had heard him at all. his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, licking his own from how hard he was breathing.

"yes please." the words barely left your words before his lips smashed against yours just as the final chorus echoed in the room. your stiff muscles relaxed at the feeling of his soft lips, hands instinctively running though his hair and rubbing against his back.

he waisted no time, using you taking a deep breath as an opportunity to sneak his warm tongue in between your lips and meet your own. you moaned at the feeling, not believing this was even happening. chan groaned as your nails scrapped against his shoulders, wishing to be ridded of his stupid t-shirt and feel you against him for real.

as time moved on you grew more and more feverish. your kisses grew from slow and sensual to rushed and sloppy. the need you and chan had kept bottled up began to pool at your feet and quickly made its way around you, binding the two of you together.

one of chan's hands slipped from your waist and made its way up your front as the other ventured lower to grope your ass. you squealed from shock, a small smirk playing at his lips as a result.

the song had ended, leaving only the sound of your lips smacking and the moans that rumbled in chan's throat to fill the room. one particularly loud moan caused you to snap back, a wave of embarrassment taking over you at how venerable you'd been.

"been wanting to do that for months." chan smiled softly, looking at you with nothing but admiration. you just pushed his chest jokingly, not knowing how to swallow this realization. he was quick to close the distance, now following you with his chest to your back yet again. his hands now firmly pressing into the skin of your stomach.

you turned in his grip, being met with a blushing chan pulling a suspicious smirk on his lips. the teasing glint in his eyes caught yours in an intense staring contest.

"so what was that about having room at your place to practice?"

my first svt fic!!! i know i have been gone for quite some time but i have been working all summer and have hardly had any time to write, but i have so many drafts and works coming your way soon! this was just something i came up with off the top of my head and hardly proof-read so don't mind any mistakes. let me know if you want more svt works<33

[peachsukii]

Blast Off

『♡』  fem!reader  x bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ aged to 21 | friends to lovers ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 

summary: your favorite metal band is in town, the same one you used to listen to with bakugo back in high school, and you decide to go to the show together! after a long week, a night out in Shibuya is exactly what you need. tags & warnings: brief violence, cursing | friends to lovers, pining, protective bakugo, fluff, first kiss a/n: bakugo would be such a fun person to go to a show with when he’s the one interested! otherwise he’d rather stay home lol ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,714 ꒱

“Yo, you ready yet, dumbass?” Bakugo shouts from your living room, impatiently tapping his foot as he’s waiting for you to finish touching up your makeup in the bathroom.

“Just a sec, Kat!” you call back as you’re leaning over the sink, cleaning up the corner of your eyeliner with a wet cloth.

“Y’don’t even need makeup, dammit!” he retorts, a backhanded compliment to get your ass moving. “Ya probably won’t even -,”

His words die in his throat as you emerge from the hallway and enter the living room.

Woah. She looks fuckin' gorgeous.

You catch him staring as you’re clipping in a pair of earrings. “What? Too much?”

He scoffs as he sneakily checks you out a second time. “Nah, you look great.”

You smile and wink at him. “Thanks, Kat. Right back at ya.”

“If some slimy fucker creeps on you, I’ll punch his lights out.”

You can’t help but snort as his comment.

The outfit you chose to wear fit the scene of the band you were seeing, one of your favorite metal bands that you two would listen to back in high school. It wasn’t too over the top, at least you didn’t think so. An all black ensemble - a thin long sleeve mesh top under your band t-shirt, tucked lazily into a pleather mini-skirt and a pair of tinted sheer tights hugging your legs. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail, a few stray pieces of hair framing your face alongside your bangs.

Bakugo wasn’t as dressed up as you were, donning a simple grey t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans with rips in the thighs and black boots. A stack of his favorite bracelets hung on his wrist and a pair of black studs adorned his ears.

“Figure out where you wanna eat?” you ask as you’re looking for your boots in the hallway closet.

“The curry place by the station. We can hop on the train into the city afterwards.”

Boots in hand, you return to the living in room and plop next to him on the couch.

“Those things could squash a damn kid,” Bakugo jokes, pointing to the platforms of your boots as you’re lacing them on your feet.

“They’re literally the same kind you wear on patrol!”

“And you’re still shorter than me with those fuckers on.”

You punch him in the arm, maybe a little too hard, to be playful. “I don’t need to be your height to kick your ass!”

“Ow, shit! Watch it, those hands are fuckin’ deadly!” he scolds, rubbing the reddening mark on his bicep.

“My bad,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder as an apology. “Let’s get outta here.”

-

“Hand it over,” Bakugo orders as you pick up the check from the table, flexing his palm toward you.

“Huh? I told you -,” you start to remind him until he cuts you off mid-explanation.

“Just ‘cause I heard ya doesn’t mean shit. Give it.” He snatches the paper and booklet with one hand while fishing his wallet out of his pocket with the other. “Stop bein’ a brat and let me pay for your damn dinner.”

“I’m not being a brat! I was just trying to treat you to dinner for once,” you say defensively.

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I let you buy the tickets.”

Bakugo consistently paid whenever the two of you would grab food. It didn’t matter what it was - coffee before work, snacks from the convenience store, lunch outings, dinners in the city - he’d shove you aside and take your card, or be the one to order so you don’t have the chance to hand your card over. The few times you did get to pay for him, he immediately sent you the money back. It’s been a consistent staple in your friendship since Junior year of high school.

While leaving the curry shop, you see the train approaching at the station.

“Shit, Kat. That’s the train we need to catch to make it on time!” you utter in a panic as you grab his wrist. “C’mon!”

_

You arrive at the venue an hour before the show starts, giving you both enough time to get inside, grab drinks and find a perfect spot as planned.

Once inside, the two of you make your way over to the bar while the crowd was light.

“Are you at least gonna let me buy you a drink?” You tease, elbowing Bakugo in the arm.

He sighs dramatically, the tell-tale sign that he’s no longer going to fight you on it. “You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous.”

Beers in hand, you both head to the general admission area of the venue and situate yourselves near the back - not too squished between loads of people but close enough to see the stage.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you beam, leaning against him as a token of thanks.

He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “Of course. Woulda been mad if ya didn’t ask me to come see the band we had on repeat together through all those study sessions and sparring matches.”

The lights begin to dim and the crowd cheers as the band takes the stage. He lets you take a step back and shift next to him, but keeps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you cheer in unison and hold up your beers for the band as they set up for their first song.

_

The show has been a goddamn blast! The two of you have been singing and dancing together the whole time, screaming every single lyric. Bakugo loves watching you throw your hands up and yell along with the crowd, having the time of your life and not letting anyone get in your way. It’s infectious - his grin not wavering the entire show.

“We have one more song for the night!” The lead singer announces into the mic. “It’s a special one - thanks for coming out!”

The song they begin to play is one of their slower numbers, one that you know Bakugo adored. You watched as his eyes lit up under the spotlights, taking in the moment as the band progressed through the song. You loop your arm with his, rocking back and forth in unison with the rest of the crowd.

Bakugo removes his arm from your hold to spin you around to face him, pulling you close and holding you to his chest. He gently sways with you in his arms as you embrace him, mimicking a slow dance. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming in his chest alongside the subtle vibrations of him humming to the song. Your eyes flutter closed, absorbing every ounce of love in this moment between the two of you. His hold encased you in a sense of security that you didn’t find with anyone else.

Once the song ends, the band is saying their goodbyes to the crowd as he releases his hold on you.

“I didn’t think they were gonna play that tonight,” you say, smiling up at him. “Guess we gotta buy t-shirts now!”

Bakugo laughs, shaking his head. “Matching ones?”

“It’s either that or we buy one and I constantly steal it from you.”

We?

Bakugo smirked at the suggestion.

“You steal my shit all the time, ya brat,” he teases, pinching your cheek. “I’ll buy two. Which one do y’want?”

“You pick, you have better taste than I do. I’m gonna run to the bathroom before we head out,” you say as you pat him on the shoulder before skipping off to the bathroom. He heads over to the merch table to stand in line for your t-shirts.

It’s been a good 20 minutes since you wandered off. Bakugo meanders over to the bathrooms, the t-shirts he bought for you both draped over his shoulder. He’s poking around, searching for you in the crowd as he spots your ponytail in a sea of others.

You’re talking with some guy that he doesn’t recognize. The guy slithers into your personal bubble as Bakugo stalks up behind you.

“C’mon doll, you’re fine as hell. Don't you -"

"Beat it, jackass. She's obviously not interested," Bakugo interrupts, stepping to your side.

He scoffs and takes a step back from you. "And who the hell are you?"

"Her boyfriend. Now fuck off."

Your cheeks flare at his comment - did he mean that? Or was that just to get this guy off your back?

You turn to leave as the guy slaps your ass - hard. "Have fun with this loser."

Bakugo doesn't even have time to react before your fist crashes into this guy's jaw, clocking him so hard that he stumbles to the floor. The commotion causes one of the security guards to scurry in your direction, beckoning for you to come over to him.

"Shit, we gotta go!" you yell, interlocking your fingers with Bakugo's as you bolt through the crowd and away from the guard before getting caught.

The two of you manage to escape, rushing out of the venue's exit door and into the busy Shibuya streets. You don't stop running until you round a corner and duck into an alley way, hiding from any potential security that could have tailed you and letting go of his hand.

Out of breath, you lean on to the wall and wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"S-shit, sorry Kat, didn't mean to thrash you around like that."

He takes a second before deciding to box you up against the wall with his frame, catching you off guard. "I'm not complain'."

"Boyfriend, huh? Was that your way of asking me out?" you joke, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

Bakugo snickers as he's shutting his eyes, lowering his face to level with your own before your lips meet. The kiss is brief, but enough to get his point across.

"I bought matching band shirts with ya, who the fuck else would I do that shit with?"

You giggle, pulling him back in for another kiss - longer and sweeter than the previous one.

This isn't where you thought the night would end, but you're over the moon.

bakugo just couldn't resist confessing after watching you beat some dude's ass in one punch ;)

Divider by : @/saradika

[1-marigold-1]

An AU thingy that umm, please listen to my ramble I beg you :[

Hello!!! Had this AU in mind for a bit too long decided to dump it all here :] sorry if it's all a bit messy I'm bad at organising those stuff hghghgghg <-- delusional (explanation and story below the images)

So:

I call it the FMN AU [Forget-Me-Not] and it's set in a fantasy world of course, in a great Empire of Heremitaran.

Because of how big the Empire is, it's divided in two, with two rulers: Ren The King of the North known for his bravery, plenty of victories, feared by those outside of his Empire , and the other one in the Sout is ... well... Mumbo.. (yes he's a king because his father died, he sucks at it tho, can't help but be that wet poor cat and not knowing what to do).

And that's when we come in with Grian and Scar.

There's a crown, to be specific, called the Vacivus Halo which is safely kept in Ren's vault , away from the rest of the world. It's the most powerful thing ever known, and Watchers are ready to fight for it against Listeners, who are worshipped by most of north people and Ren himself. The war those two spiecies of angel-gods started over a crown has been going for many centuries and now when Listeners has had it for themselves for so long, Watchers start to fear that they might use it against them to finally get rid of the enemy.

The crown has been under Watchers' control for some time too, that's when they tasked Mumbo's father with protecting it, but he died at war, crown got stolen, landed in Ren's hands and now all they got is Mumbo... They quickly realized that he's definetely not... well.. worthy? So they give the task of getting it back to an orphan living near the palace. He's a poor chicken keeper until he meets one of The Watchers disguised as a snake, asking him for help, the snake promises him everything he wants. So he agrees.

He gets powers such as:

Manipulating others' minds [putting images and memories that never existed before into anyone's head ]. It's his most powerful ability that he uses by just looking into their eyes, yet there's one thing about it: he can't make people forget the things he puts in their heads.

Flight, he has a cape that turns into wings when needed.

He can see what his snake sees whenever he wants, so he can use it to spy on people.

With those abilities he fools everyone at the palace into believing he's Mumbo's new guard and personal assasin, so he can be always close to the ruler who should be visiting the North very soon... he also makes friends with the young king, they get along pretty well.

Meanwhile Scar has a simmiliar story, though he was an assasin and Ren's guard before Listeners chose him. Ren is still in a good shape and probably will still be a good protector of the crown, but they felt like they need more than one If Watchers ever plan on getting the crown back, so they chose Scar by appearing to him as a cat, they wanted to tell him that they are ready to give him anything he wishes for but he was like "KITTY!!!!!!!! HELLO YOU SO CUTE!!" and agreed right away, just to have a scarf that turns into a cat...... he likes cats alright, he's been feeling pretty lonely recently too...

Scar's powers are:

Super speed [he got it with the boots]

Sensitive Hearing

Completely silent walking

He also got his cat [he named it Jellie because it's semi-transparent like a jelly when in not-scarf form lol] that can transform into a tiger like creature sometimes.

Yeah guess what.

They meet. Grian and Scar. They. Meet.

And they uhhh kinda make friends with eachother and don't really think that they might be enemies.

Watchers don't know that Scar is Listeners' servant, and the other way around, Listeners don't know that Grian is Watchers' servant.

Things escalate from here...... and that's where the story starts!

I have plans on making short comics and stories to tell you the lore piece by piece, but be aware that updates won't be very often, I'll try tho!

ASK ABOUT ANYTHING I WILL ANSWER THE QUESTIONS

Also

Just wanted to add that I made this AU long time ago and Jellie is a fundamental thing in it, very important, as much as she was important to all of us, may she rest in peace <3

[ssamchu]

I know you love me back, even if you don’t show it (kim chaewon x f!reader)

   ⋅`🦦` ..⃗. } ⎧ ୧Just chaewon rejecting Yn's love and once jealous for rejecting it –72k views

▸ clip one

While chaewon started the live, Yn and Eunchae were playing halli galli (there is no one more competitive than those two)

Yah! calm down!!! the live has started! said Chaewon with her adorable angry tone. sorry my bae, let me make it up to you. Yn spoke while her mouth was preparing to form a kiss.

Eunchae meanwhile burst out laughing and Chaewon slapped her arm with a disgusted face.

Ouch! oh my heart has broken into a thousand pieces, god please eunchae help me. spoke Yn overreacting, throwing half of her body on the younger one, The leader rolled her eyes at her.

Leave manchae alone and stop overreacting Choi. At the naming of her last name, Yn sat down while striking a military pose.

at your service, unnie.

▸ clip two

While Leniverse was being filmed, Yn was on a mission to kiss all the members. It was no big deal for her because she always tried to do it, even the other members let her do it, except Chaewon.

While the girls were busy doing other missions, she approached Kazuha, Sakura, Yunjin and Eunchae, leaving Chaewon for the end and the members decided to watch the funny tom and Jerry-like scene unnieeee, come here said the girl with a slightly scary tone.

No! I hate it, get away from me. Chaewon shouted as she watched her friend slowly approaching. Yah! You come any closer and I'll throw this at you. She said while showing her toothpaste in her hand.

WHY ARE YOU EXAGGERATING? IT'S JUST A KISS, I NEED TO FINISH THIS MISSION AND I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU, UNNIE, RUIN IT. Yn yelled back, grabbing a pillow to cover herself if Chaewon kept her word.

Seeing her grab a pillow, Chaewon thought Yn had given up, she calmed down as she turned around but that was a big mistake because before doing it, Yn jumped up wrapping her arms around her body as she tried to kiss her cheek until she did it and the traitorous camera showed a totally red Chaewon lying on the floor.

▸ clip three

They were in the waiting room at music bank while Chaewon was filming her daily vlog, they were on UNFORGIVEN promotions and they schedule was totally full, so much that on the side of the camera shot, Yn appears sleeping on the couch while Yunjin was taking photos of her.

Ah, Yn loves to sleep whispered while looking at the pictures she had taken, approaching Chaewon to show them, cute, isn't her? she asked to which the short-haired girl remained silent and made a disgusted face.

YAH UNNIE I SAW YOU. oh Yn woke up.

▸ clip four

So, guys, here we are, the UNFORGIVEN photo shoot features Yn in an outfit that showed off her abs. Guys, don't you think I have the best abs? I learned from Kazuha, I've been working out with her for months, it helped me. She said with a smile on her face.

Oh! look, chaewon unnie finished her shots, let's see them. she speculated as she walked towards chaewon who was checking her own shots.

ohhh cute, hot, pretty, yeah yeah I like it, you ate chaewonnie. The leader meanwhile, rolled her eyes before saying I know Yn, I know.

I think I like you unnie said the youngest one there as she kissed the screen where the pictures were. ahhh...Yn...what are you saying??? Chaewon said because of how shameless her member was.

▸ clip five

It's Valentine's Day and the members were doing a live for it, now, the girls choose a member to make chocolates and a letter.

uh- I don't know, I think I'm going to choose Yunjin. Yn said and Chaewon's neck almost broke hearing it, it was the first time she didn't choose her, even in izone she chose her, she wanted to ask why she didn't choose her but thank god, sakura asked since it was totally sudden for everyone.

Chaewon unnie wouldn't want a gift from me. Yn said jokingly and rolling her eyes.

NO! I want!!! Chaewon said almost shouting while everyone jumped from their place due to the leader's sudden behavior.

no, unnie, she chose me. Yunjin spoke knowing that she would make her angry. Yah! Yn, choose me. The girl said as she tugged on the sleeve of her bear sweater. ah... these girls fight for me, don't worry, there is Yn for everyone, don't worry, wait for your birthday Yunjin, I will write you a letter and give you reward chocolates.

After saying this, you could hear an angry Yunjin and a totally happy Chaewon.

inspired by @jihyoruri

[flamingo-writes]

A/N: i am back from the dead after months. And it should’ve come as a surprise that I absolutely loved Hobie. Looks like a rockstar and is an absolute punk. My type in a nutshell.

I’m gonna be using some of these headcanon for future

Gal in The Chair — Hobie Brown x Artist!Reader

I think Hobie would be the kind of guy to fall for someone who he’s known for a long while, that being said, you’d perhaps known him all of your life

Having grown together, the two of you shaped a lot of each other’s beliefs. So no wonder the two of you were so compatible.

After the spider bite, you saw the whole journey from Hobie freaking out at first, to him figuring out how to use his new abilities.

He designed his web shooters, being the genius he is with technology. You helped him with his suit, specially his mask.

You became his Gal in the Chair

You liked to fix up and personalise clothes. All of your pieces of clothings came from second hand shops and you gave them a make over doing all sorts of stuff on them to make them unique and yours.

You also did this with a lot of Hobie’s clothes. As well as teaching him how to use your sewing machine.

After graduating high school, you opened a small alternative clothing shop in with unique pieces, doing the same thing you did for your clothes on this one. As well as doing hand made jewerly like bracelets, necklaces and earrings. You also had a talent with plants, managing to almost magically bring plants back to life and reproduce them like crazy, you added selling plants into your small business.

As Spider-Man gained traction, he low key promoted your work to his followers and people who agreed with him. This in order to keep negative attention from falling on you, and keep bad guys from thinking and theorising that maybe you knew Spider-Man.

As a side gig, you educated yourself on coffee making, and learned about the different processes and types of coffee beans there were. It started as a hobby, but soon you also implemented that into your shop.

The fact that you were so versatile, made Hobie feel incredibly proud of you. You seemed to be so independent, and creative and that never ending curiosity and passion made him harvest feelings for you.

Eventually, the close friendship, and companionship grew into affectionate and romantic feelings.

Hobie was always flirty, but it wasn’t until now that you started behaving differently. Normally he played his electric guitar but now you found him playing his acoustic guitar more.

He showed you a song he wrote. And while it was unusual —however, not imposible— to hear a romantic song coming from him, it wasn’t until the first minute that you realised the song was about you.

That’s how he chose to tell you about his feelings.

He didn’t intend for it to be this romantic, he simply one day word vomited the song and used one free afternoon to add the music.

After hearing his song, it was actually you who grabbed him and kissed him.

More than satisfied with the outcome, he kissed you back, put his guitar down and pulled you over his lap.

You two became inseparable since. You already were, but now it was more evident.

You worked at home, doing all the creative things you did, selling them, helping Spider-Man with art shows and gigs.

Those who paid close attention, they were able to determine you were some sort of associate to Spider-Man. However, all of them were also punks and anarchist so of course they kept their mouths shut. Spider-Man was always looking out for those in need. They were going to help a brother back and not tell anyone whenever any authority or weird-looking threat asked if anyone knew Spider-Man, or someone close to him.

You became widely known between Spider-Man supporters, although none of them would ever dare to snitch on you.

After Hobie met Gwen, she brought her over, you two became close friends right away. Letting Gwen crash at your place more often than not. She even offered to help you with the dishes and the groceries as thanks for letting her stay.

“You’re Hobie’s friend, you’re welcome whenever you want,” You’d told her.

Pav was also a frequent visitor. He loved your coffee, he taught you how to make chai. And you had chai ready for whenever Hobie told you Pav was going to be there.

Pav also bought plants from you all the time. Most of them for his mom. He once asked you if you could make a set of earrings and a necklace for his mom.

The set was a success and Pav always told you how much she loved them,

Eventually Miles also came around. And it wasn’t until Miles met you that his suspicions of Hobie and Gwen dating dissappeared.

Miles saw the absolute pure love with which Hobie looked at you. He still made the same sarcastic and cheeky jokes while talking to you. But the way he looked at you was completely different to the way he looked at anyone else.

Hobie convinced Miles to buy a plant and some earrings for his mother.

“Listen mate, this is what my girl does for a living. Plus the world needs to learn to appreciate the handiwork of an artisan,”

Miles was even surprised at how Hobie still looked cool while being mushy and cheesy with you as he hugged you, kissed your head, or played with your hands or hair.

Hobie had zero fucks to give about what people think about him, he doesn’t give a shit about PDA. Gwen thinks it’s gross, Pav thinks it’s adorable, Miles is simply puzzled as to how he is still cool when seeing his parents doing the same thing would make him cringe so hard.

Hobie is amused by the different reactions he gets. Especially Gwen’s grossed out face.

He still loves kissing you every chance he gets. Whether if it’s kissing you passionately. A subtle peck. Sweet kissed on your cheek or your forehead.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of the break up has different effects on both, Azriel and Reader.

A/N: yall I'm sick🥲 the updates might be late but I'll try to post as much as possible. Hope you like this one!

Pieces Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

It's been one month.

One month of Healing.

When azriel left, I told myself that I will not contact him until I'm ready. Doesn't matter how much I'm missing him or wanting him. I will not talk to him until I know I won't take him back the second I see him again.

I gave myself two days. Two days to sulk all I wanted. I spent the whole time crying and feeling miserable about myself. Before Az left at least, I wasn't by myself. At least I saw him once a day.

Now? Nothing.

I am totally alone. His absence hit me Hard. Everything I saw, almost brought me to my knees.

The kitchen where we would make dinner together, laughing and joking with each other that many times ended with us covered in flour and syrup.

The couch where we would sit cuddling and talking until we fell asleep, always waking up with strained muscles.

His office where he would sit on his chair in front of his desk, writing out reports and whatnot while I sit in his armchair reading my book. Just enjoying each others company and occasionally taking breaks to make out on the very deck, and then some.

After those dreadful days though, I called Feyre and Mor and had a very much needed girls night. We took out a wine bottle and I spilled everything to them. My mind was too drunk to think my feelings about Elain might offend Feyre but she genuinely felt sad for me and embarrassed about her sister. The poor girl even apologised to my about Elain's behavior to which I immediately told her it wasn't her fault.

When I told them how lonely it got being alone in a big house like this, they suggested maybe I should get a job or something to keep my mind distracted and promised that they'll visit me often. So I did juat that.

I found a part time job at a local library. I have to admit, I'm really enjoying it. I'm the second assistant to the sweetest lady, Hilda, who owns the shop. I don't do much, just help her in small things like adjusting books on self or helping in shipping books out or in. Layla, the first assistant, handles most of the work around the shop. My job is basically doing what she asks of me. The salary isn't much but I don't care because it's never been about money.

The first week was very hard. Everyday after I came home, the silence felt like a slap on the face, reminding me of everything I lost.

But, slowly, I became comfortable with it. Now it's doesn't hurt me as it did before.

There were many times when I think of Azriel, tears filled my eyes, but I never let them free. I sucked them in and did anything else that didn't made me cry, like taking baths, baking my favorite chocolate brownies, reading in front of the fire place while drinking hot coco or calling my friends to take me shopping.

And as time went. I started to heal. I started to feel good, happier with myself. And without even realizing it, I started to love myself.

-☆-

Azriel

It's been one month.

One month of regretting everything I did to my mate.

I've spent my whole month sulking in this room, crying and regretting everytime I chose Elain over my wife. I haven't slept at all since I came here, just enough to keep me functioning. My appetite is gone. I don't eat unless Rhys come and force feeds me like I'm some baby.

I told Rhysand and Cassian everything the first morning i stayed here. Which earned me a flick to head by Cassian and a very disappointed look from Rhys. Even though they didn't give me any scolding(which I very much deserved), the flick and expression said enough.

Rhys has refrained me of any work, handling it himself or having someone else do it. While I have been sitting around here and hating myself. It seems like even my mind has declared itself an enemy, showing me memories of everytime I dismissed Y/N and hurt her in any way at most random times, cutting a deeper cut in my heart everytime.

"Hey Az, I was thinking if we could go out for dinner tonight? There is this new amazing restaurant I saw while walking near Sidra. I really want to try it." She told me as I put on my coat, ready to go.

"I can't, I have a mission for today. Rhys told me it's important so I can't skip. We'll go some other time. Okay?"

"Ok."

I could hear the excitement in her voice when she asked me and the hurt when I rejected her and promised to go another time. The time never came. She never asked again. And I never noticed.

"Az, are you awake?" She whispers in the dead of night. Both of us sleeping on the bed. My back to her, hoping to fall asleep quickly because I have early training tomorrow.

Cassian is spending time with Nesta more, so Rhys has told me to go to an illyrian camp to check how things are going. I have to wake and go there early to catch them off guard to see what's truly going on.

I can't do that if Y/N doesn't let me sleep.

I didn't answer her that night, hoping if i dont respond, she'll think im asleep and doesnt call me again. She really didnt call me again. I prioritized my sleep over her. Her voice sounded so small. She needed me. And I didn't care.

"So, I saw a really cute baby in garden today and..." I drone out her babbling and try to quickly I can get out of here, I promised Elain to help in her garden today. She'll be disappointed if I show up late.

"Az? You're listening to me right?" She suddenly questions, I clear my throat and answer a small, of course, she nods and takes a deep breath, not saying anything anymore. I sign in relief of the silence.

I put my head in my hands and tug hard on my hair, wanting to feel hurt, hurt the kind that she clearly felt and I didn't care.

I hate myself more and more as memories flash through my mind. I can't even cry at this point. I wished she'd hit me when we fought. Slaped and paunched some sense into me. I don't blame her at all for not talking to me. Gods, I wouldn't even blame her if she left me. I deserve it.

How do I fix this?

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @going-through-shit @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @cat-or-kitten

[spacerockfloater]

You know what, I didn’t need to see Ewan Mitchell in HOTD to be convinced; I knew I fucked with Aemond since the Driftmark episode.

I don’t like him because he’s hot when he’s older. I like him because he’s metal as fuck. The way he talked to the floppy four was art.

“It’s him! / It’s me.”

Boy, it sure as hell is him. He ate that line up. The fucking nerve of speaking about him without addressing him. He was so done with their bullshit.

“Your mother’s dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now.”

Gagged her ass. Like, he met her literally today. He never knew her mother, he doesn’t owe her anything. Not to mention that during the funeral he tried to approach them and offer them his condolences with the softest smile ever and they just glared daggers at him for literally no reason until he backed off. Didn’t even let him approach. They don’t even know him and they hate him! And the first thing they tell him once they finally speak to him is accusing him of theft, as if a dragon is an object btw. Like, what are they gonna do? Tell their mum? Shut up.

“Then you should have claimed her.”

Right?! As if they didn’t cross the whole ass Narrow Sea all the way to Driftmark. It’s not like Laena died yesterday. It’s been a good fucking while. They could have at least tried claiming her at this point. What was she waiting for? And please don’t tell me she was waiting for the mourning period to end because she was keeping an eye on Vhagar constantly, hence why she was immediately aware that she flew away. That dragon is on her mind 24/7, she just had no idea how to get her. And like, it’s done. If Vhagar chose Aemond, then she would have never chosen her. They weren’t destined for one another. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be mad as shit, too. At myself, that is, for not being as smart as Aemond.

“Maybe your cousins could find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Ate and left no crumbs. This is a direct jab at Jace and Luc, too. Like, they grew up together as brothers and they thought it was okay to mock him for not having a dragon, but the moment they meet these random girls they are suddenly okay with Rhaena not having one and are ready to jump the boy they were raised with for their shake? How two faced. Typical bastard behaviour though. He was doing that girl a favour by letting her know what kind of people she’s got on her side.

And the fighting scene was delicious. Four vs one and he still mopped the floor with them. Maybe they should think twice before they lay hands on someone again.

Don’t come in my comments crying about me hating on children yada yada. Wake up, this is a fictional show about kids who wield nuclear weapons of mass destruction. Like, it was okay to dislike 11yo Draco Malfoy for being an obnoxious piece of shit, but disliking kids that physically attack another child with the intention of killing him is suddenly too much? Like, I don’t give a fuck. I want to see all four of them biting the curb in 4k. And please don’t start with the racist accusation bullshit. I thought Baela was a raging pick-me cunt since before the show, in Fire and Blood. And I absolutely adore Vaemond Velaryon. It’s not about race. It’s about characters.

P.S. Laena, who claimed Vhagar at 12 and chose to die by burning alive, would be absolutely ashamed about her daughter’s behaviour and lack of courage. But yeah, Daemon, being the crazy ax murderer that he is, would surely vibe with unnecessary violence. Those are his girls!

[haikyu-mp4]

Until we meet again

word count; 913 – f!reader

It was a slow evening in Tendo’s chocolate shop. The tall man rested against the counter and hummed under his breath as he watched people walk past his shop. All the necessary batches of chocolate were already in the fridge and he just got over the lunch rush, which seemed to last for hours in France. Business was good, but the evenings were always calmer.

The bell above the door rang and he lifted his head, curious eyes on you as he said his practised greeting. “Bienvenue!” (Welcome!).

However, he pursed his lips when he saw you were on the phone, speaking quickly in French and not sounding particularly satisfied.

You met Tendo’s eyes and flashed him a quick apologetic smile before you kept rambling and put your stuff down at one of the few tables so you could sit down. Five minutes later you were still arguing and Tendo had an idea.

At this point, you were pinching between your eyes in frustration when you heard porcelain hit the table, looking up in surprise to see the redheaded chocolatier’s smile. He had given you a plate of two chocolates that looked mouth-watering, and you gave him the most thankful eyes you could while still doing your best to pay attention to your colleague on the phone. You whispered “Merci beaucoup, vraiment.” (Thank you, really!) before getting back to your business.

You picked up a piece of chocolate as Tendo got back behind the counter and watched as you ate the first piece. Somehow, it seemed like you melted along with the chocolate in your mouth and it might have been one of his proudest moments in this line of work. It seemed to him like your tone changed as well, and five minutes later, you finally said a determined dismissal before putting the phone face down on the table. You picked up the other piece of chocolate before meeting Tendo’s eyes. No one ever looked at him that softly before, it made him twiddle his thumbs in front of him, flustered.

“I am so sorry for disturbing your peace, how much are those chocolates?” you asked, standing up from your seat and moving over to the counter in front of him. Your French accent sat heavy on your tongue, Tendo was entranced by your presence.

“It’s on the house,” he said and tilted his head with a cute smile, hoping you wouldn’t argue too much about it. “Seemed like you needed it.”

“Thank you.” You breathed out a heavy chuckle, making him laugh as well to ease the tension. Luckily for him, you thought he had some samples lying around to get people to buy more anyway, thus deciding not to argue. “And you have no idea. There’s this big project...” You held your palm to your forehead, shaking your head. “But I won’t bother you with that.” His heart fluttered when you looked at him again. It felt like your eyes danced together for a moment, settling in each other’s presence until the sound of a car honking outside brought you both back to the moment at hand.

“Not that I would mind listening to you rant about your job, but was there anything else you came in here for?” he asked, leaning a bit forward and laughing softly again when you blushed.

“Right! Three croissants au chocolat and…” you moved to the glass cases showing off his beautiful creations. He watched as your tongue poked out from between your lips in thought, looking away when you stood back in front of him as if he was checking some notes. “..a box of six with whatever you recommend, please.” you asked and got your wallet out, watching Tendo’s eyes light up. And what a pretty sight that was.

Of course, people sometimes asked for his recommendations, but being blindly trusted never stopped making him excited. He felt inspiration bubbling in his fingertips, so now it was his turn to glance between you and his selection of chocolates. After setting it up so you could pay, he moved over to get everything for you.

Tendo readied three fluffy chocolate croissants and then started picking chocolates in a separate box. He chose some of his favourites that go well together, naturally making two of them hearts. Finally, he closed everything off and added stickers with his logo to keep them closed wherever you were going. You watched his hands intently as he worked, oddly entranced by the shop’s atmosphere.

“Thank you so much,…” you sharpened your eyes to look at the little badge on his apron for his name, only to see that it was embroidered. Fancy. In red letters, it said Satori Tendo. “Tendo.”

The man bowed his head slightly, a French the pleasure is all mine slipping off his tongue. “But you can call me Satori.”

Your head tilted curiously, a small smile playing on your lips. Tendo blinked back at you, unsure what question was running through your head. “Very well, Satori,” you purred. “I hope I’ll see you again soon.”

“You know where to find me.” He tapped the counter nervously when you turned to leave. “Wait! May I have your name?”

You giggled, lightly hitting your forehead with your palm at your impoliteness. With a red flush over your nose, you told him your name and it left just enough of a sweet taste on his tongue for him to let you leave. Until we meet again…

masterlist

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️ONE

CHAPTER ONE TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾️TWELVE

A chance encounter under the strobe light. Hips swaying to the thumping bass. Dark eyes following her every move. Gazes meeting through the crowd. She came to him. He took her away. Changing her life forever, guiding her into submission.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Noncon/dubcon elements. Roofies. Abduction. Dom/sub dynamic. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 3.9k

A/N: Please remember: This is fiction! As much as I enjoy writing fucked-up characters, this is not real. I do not condone this behavior! Men, be nicer to women! Girls, always check your drinks! Be mindful of strangers, no matter how nice they seem and how hot they look. And be careful what you wish for! So, technically this is a modern AU of my original story Innocence Lost, picks up on some themes, but it's basically just a fucked-up man abducting a girl (it's not stated in the beginning, but she's over 18!) and having fun with her (and then things may escalate a little!). Be mindful of the tags! This may be my darkest piece yet. (Dead dove, do not eat, as they say, right?) Also pretty self-indulgent, but there is some plot between all the filthy smut that is to come, I swear. > There are no names, no physical descriptions other than a size and age difference, so you can imagine any character here! <

ONE 🟥 TWO

Innocent.

She's been innocent, the sweetest little thing he's ever seen. Laughing with her friends, oblivious to her own beauty, blind to the leering stares of every single male around her. And he's been one of them, staring, watching her, looking her up and down as she moved her fragile little body to the beat of the thumping bass, motions contorted and jerky in the strobe light, hair swinging, hips shaking, lips curling into happy smiles.

So innocent.

Probably just a mask, an act. Or maybe she's really been as pure as she looked back then, he'll never know. Because as soon as he's laid his eyes on her, she's been corrupted, tainted by his dark desires. He wanted to corrupt her, ruin her, and he always got what he wanted. He lured her in, kept watching her until she noticed his stares, the darkness in his gaze, the hunger within him. And she came to him, drawn to his mystique, his persistence.

Curious little thing, clueless to the monsters around her.

He smiles at her, rakes his eyes over her body, over that outfit she chose to impress without realizing what might happen, whose attention she might attract. The tight top, squishing those small breasts (pert little nipples standing proud under the shifting breeze of the AC), showing off the flat of her stomach, the flutter of her belly after she's danced her heart out, chest heaving, sweat on her brow, beads rolling down her pale, untouched skin. Slim naked arms holding the drink between her fingers, the soft rattle of cheap jewelry on her wrists, around her neck.

Girly, cute, pure.

And that skirt, mid-thigh, tame when she's standing still, scandalous when she's moving, the fabric flowing around her legs, bending down (bending over), accidentally showing off those cute little panties beneath. Giggling when she realizes her mistake, small hands trying to cover up, but people already saw, and she's aware. She's been aware he saw everything of her. Eager eyes, big and fucking innocent, following his every move.

He takes the drink from her, stares down at her, no longer smiling, and she looks up, chin tilted, so tiny in front of him, innocent, expectant, excited. Putting the glass down, he grabs her wrist, frail cheap jewelry bending under his grip. For a small moment she's hesitant, notices the strength in his fingers, the determination behind the gesture. But she still follows him as he pulls her away from the bar, into the shadows.

How do you break an innocent girl? Show her what's what? What may happen if she steps into the lion's den wearing that skimpy top and maybe-scandalous skirt? So naive. Swinging her hips to the blasting music, bouncing those tiny tits, laughing like nothing else matters, enjoying herself. A little light in the moving darkness. A light he wants to savor before he'll let her burn out.

If she'd be any other girl, he'd have her pinned to the wall, skirt flipped up, panties ripped down, his belt open in seconds before he'd sink his cock into her tight little cunt, to ravage her, ruin her, use her like she's supposed to be used. But she's too pure to be railed against a wall, in the dimly-lit club, for everyone to see.

He still pushes her against the wall, inhaling that little gasp she issues when she hits it, looking up at him, lips parted, eyes wide, gaze blurry, pupils already dilated, the thrill of the encounter and adrenaline of the night (and possibly some drinks she was mysteriously gifted) pumping through her body. Grabbing her face with his big hands, he holds her firmly when he leans closer, takes his time, gives her time to push him away (what a rare treat, girl), but she just stands there, looking at him, a little glint in her eyes, her lips curving up ever so slightly.

She wants this.

And he gives it to her. His lips meet hers, one hand holds her cheek, thumb guiding her chin, while the other hand slips into her hair, fisting it, a tight grip to hold her as he kisses her, a soft beginning, quickly turning rougher, more hungry, desperate. And she kisses him back in the same way, mirrors his motions perfectly. Such a quick learner. Their tongues slide against each other before he pushes deeper, tastes the inside of her mouth, that sweet taste, of some sugary drink and her, so much of her, and it's intoxicating.

So sweet. Innocence oozing from every pore.

He cages her in, pushes her against the wall, feet on either side of hers, knees around her legs, and she's that tiny thing in front of him, standing there, kissing him back, but her body seems frozen, hands at her sides, immobile. Petrified? A doe-eyed thing caught in the headlights? Not for long. His hand moves down to her waist, fingers digging into soft skin, warm and smooth, slipping up under the hem of her shirt, teasing at the little mound beneath.

No bra. Too innocent (and small) to need one.

Her hand comes up then, closing around his wrist, but she's not pulling him away, she's pushing his hand higher until his rough palm closes around her breast. Tiny tits, usually not his preference, but it's cute, that little squishy flesh under his big hand, warm and soft, and the longer he kneads it, the harder her nipple pokes into his palm.

And then she moans into his mouth. His eyelids flutter, and he stares at her, lips hovering over hers, heavy breaths mingling, head spinning, the tension in his stomach making it so hard to keep his composure, to stick to his decision to spare her his usual treatment. He gropes her small tit once more before he pulls his hand back, sliding it down her side, watching her closely.

He grabs her ass cheek harder than intended and leans in to capture her mouth when she yelps quietly in response, swallowing her noises, the thump of the music vibrating through his tense body. In his mind he's already ripped her clothes off, run his hands all over her smooth, untouched skin, fingers pinching her nipples, teasing between her legs, slipping deeper, into her tight innocent warmth –

A grunt escapes him. She's gripping the front of his shirt, her small hands clinging to him while she kisses him back, eagerly, completely lost in the unexpected encounter. Eyes closed, humming against him, body inching closer, searching for his warmth. The hand on her ass pulls her against him, a little thud that makes her mewl into his mouth, before it slips lower, cups her rear, pushes her up, fingers brushing against that little damp piece of fabric, and it's enough to make him hoist her up onto his hip.

Her hands claw at the collar of his shirt while her legs wrap around him almost automatically, conditioned, programmed to submit. A deep-rooted thing she isn't aware of yet. Her pelvis presses into his hipbone as he balances her, back pressed to the wall, both of his hands now on her plump cheeks, holding, groping. He can feel her warmth, that hint of wetness, arousal she's probably confused by.

“I'm gonna take you with me,” he rasps into her neck as he leans in to shower her soft skin with hungry kisses, lips closing around her fluttering pulse, sucking the blood to the surface with a determination that surprises himself.

“What?” she breathes against his cheek, a sweet little sound in his ears, so pure, a soft hum in the atmosphere.

“Don't worry about it,” he mumbles, licking over the bruise he's created on her neck. She shivers in his hold, chest moving against him. He leans back, licking his lips, meeting her curious gaze. “You need another drink,” he says with a smirk. It's not a question.

He sets her down again, grabbing her hand, leaning over to brush his lips over her temple until she looks up at him. Then his other hand is on her chin, holding her as he crashes his mouth against hers for another searing kiss. A little whimper escapes her. She's confused, he can tell, overwhelmed by whatever is happening.

Pulling her towards the bar, he nods to the barkeeper, a gesture often used. She's leaning against him, caged between his hard body and the counter, looking up at him with those big eyes. He smiles down at her, caressing her soft cheek with the back of his finger. He's got her, he knows. She doesn't even care about her friends anymore (and they seem to have forgotten about her too, he can see them dancing on the other side of the room). All she does is look at him, mesmerized.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the bartender sliding the drinks over the counter top. He takes the prepared drink (something sugary with a special ingredient) and hands it to her, then takes the little vodka shot for himself, eyes fixed on her as he clinks the glasses together. She smiles shyly and takes a cautious sip, while he downs the shot in one go, feeling the liquid burning down his throat. The music thumps around them, the air thick and heavy with alcohol and sweat, and a tension that's just between them.

The innocent girl, sipping her drink, staring up at the man, who watches her with a predatory smirk. His hand is heavy on her hip, warm and comforting, holding her in place, thumb rubbing over her fluttering stomach. She finishes the sugary concoction and wipes her mouth, glass empty on the bar. He leans down and brushes his lips against her ear.

“Come with me,” he whispers, and she shivers, her hand finding the front of his shirt again. He steps back, his hands running along her arms until they close around her slim wrists. The bass sits low in his guts, and he can't help but move his body slightly to the music as he leads her backwards. She laughs softly, a little sway to her hips as she follows him. But they leave the dance floor and walk back into the shadows.

He watches her closely, she blinks more, eyelids heavy, lips parted, that cute little tongue out to lick them, once, twice, again, almost obsessively. He takes her to the back, past the office, the music becoming that thick beat in the distance, a deep thrum in the air, through the walls, muffled as if the world was made of cotton. He leans her against the wall, a body too easy to move by now, his hands on her shoulders as he leans down to rub his nose against hers.

“Be a good girl and stay right here,” he tells her, waiting for her to understand.

She nods slowly, licking her lips again, and he presses his mouth to hers, capturing that sweet little tongue, sucks on it, kisses her deeply, tastes the sugar and her and more. Dangerous move, but he can't help himself. He leans back, moves his lips down her jaw, along her neck, swipes his tongue in a broad stroke over that soft skin. She mewls in response, and he grins against her before leaning back.

“I'll be right back,” he says, his eyes boring into hers, making sure she does what he tells her. She nods again, biting her swollen lip.

He hasn't planned to take her, but he'll adapt, as always. It's a risky move, but he somehow knows it's going to be fine. He has an eye for these things, knows what to do if situations (opportunities) like this present themselves. Just a few calls, some more ominous nods to his employees, no problem, just a few minutes of his time to sort things out. Somewhat. He doesn't even know why he's taking her away, it just feels right. The temptation is too strong to ignore.

He shouldn't have left her.

When he returns, they are there, crowding her, two guys, frat boys probably, drunk out of their minds, slurring and stumbling, but determined to take what is now his. He's on them in no time, hand ripping them away from the frightened but still confused girl, frozen in place as hands gripped and groped her, slipping under her clothes, going places that are reserved to him.

His fist lands hard against a jaw, one of them tumbling to the floor with a howl, the other, too drunk to react, just stares at him, and he doesn't wait for him to realize what is happening. There's blood on his knuckles when the second guy goes down as well, two crumpled guys on the floor, holding their bloody faces. He grabs the girl with his left hand, carefully pulling her against him. She's swaying, legs trembling, arms wrapping around his waist helplessly.

One of the boys stirs, and he steps on his hand and kicks him back, another howl swallowed by the distant thump of the music. He takes a few steps, raps his fist against the door. A bouncer opens it, and he tilts his head towards the mess behind him. “Take care of this,” he orders, and the burly man nods, slipping into the club while he maneuvers the girl out of it.

The night is cold, semi-fresh air, but the noises are no longer muffled. The city breathes around them as he guides her to his car, parked in the back. She clings to him, barely able to function on her own anymore, eyes heavy, lips parted. He leans her against the trunk, hands holding her soft face, looks her over. She looks at him from under her lashes, too out of it to realize anything anymore. He gives her a soft kiss to her warm cheek, a little giggle escapes her.

She falls into the passenger seat, a frail little body unable to move on its own. He leans over to buckle her in, feeling her deep breaths on his chin. A short side glance shows him she has her eyes closed, chest rising and falling, head lolled to the side. His hand is on her cheek as he kisses her gently, savoring the warmth, already imagining what he could use her for. But he has to be patient.

When he rounds the car to get behind the wheel, his morals flare up, a rare occurrence, but the sight of her slumped into the seat, helpless and fucking innocent, makes him wonder how it's come to this. He's seen her dancing, in that tight top and short skirt, a laughing little light in the darkness around her. Pure. Ready to be soiled. He inhales the cold night air and slips into the driver seat, shaking his head to get rid of those damn doubts, flexing his bloodied knuckles on the steering wheel as he turns his head towards her small form.

In the end she is just another body to be used, like she should be.

They arrive at his place, and it's a blur for him to get her into the elevator, a little breathing bundle in his arms, so light and heavy at the same time. Temptation. He puts her down on the bed, watches her, how she curls up into a ball of limbs and hair, breathing softly, skirt bunched up around her hips, that sweet round butt on display, cute panties he wants to rip off her immediately. But he refrains, sighs, turns away to wash the blood off his hands.

Unbuttoning his shirt as he returns, his eyes are on her, taking in every detail. He keeps his pants on, keeps his hard erection in place for now, no matter how difficult it is to hold back. The urge to just take her is strong, push those panties aside and impale her on his thick cock. It'd be so easy. She wouldn't even feel anything, wouldn't remember a single thing. And there's the problem. He doesn't want to fuck a lifeless body, no matter how cute she looks.

He wants to see the fear in her eyes, the pain when he penetrates her, stretches her, deflowers her, possibly. Maybe even the lust growing in her pupils, that dilated look of pure bliss. Who knows, she might be into this. She followed him so willingly, she came to him, after all, approached the monster that kept staring at her. She made the first step. He just watched.

She stirs on the bed, soft little noises tumbling past her lips. He leans over her, rolls her onto her back, turns her head to the side so she won't choke on her own spit. There are other things he wants her to choke on. Later. It's almost caring how he brushes her hair out of her face, caresses her cheek, flushed and warm from sleep. Thumb finding the contours of her lips, soft and wet, pushing between them, into her mouth, searching for that sweet little tongue.

He pulls back with a deep sigh. Watching her for another moment, he decides to undress her after all. At least the skirt has to go, so he moves his hands under her body and fumbles for the zipper, then pulls it off her slim legs, nudges her shoes and socks off in the same move. He even removes her cheap jewelry, the soft clanging sounds of the thin metal filling the quiet room. She stirs slightly, smacks her lips, but doesn't wake. Not that she could, not yet. He folds the skirt and puts it on the nightstand, the sneakers he leaves under the bed, socks tucked into them, then turns his attention back to her sleeping form.

So fucking innocent in her tight top and those cute panties. A soft pink with little white bows on it. Childish almost, a girl caught in that awkward phase between adulthood and innocence, right on the verge. He doesn't know how old she is, but he trusts his bouncers to only let in girls of age. They're experts in finding fake IDs, good judges of character also. To be honest, though, it wouldn't change anything anyway. She is here now, on his bed, ready to be used, soiled, ravaged. He can't fucking wait.

But he has to, so he leans back and inhales deeply, ignoring the strain in his pants. His hands are itching to touch her, feel that warm smooth skin, pure and untouched. Almost. He can see the bruise on her neck that he worked into her. His mark. The beginning of many more, he's sure. He leans in, braced on one arm, one knee denting the mattress, his other hand tracing her jaw until he feels the little thump of her heartbeat in her jugular. His fingers curl around her neck, thumb pressed to her throat, as he stares down at her.

His mind floods with images of soft lips strained around his cock as he forces it down her throat, the tears in her eyes, the desperate grip of her fingers, trying to push him away as she struggles to breathe, spit and cum on her face, dripping down her chin, down between her tiny tits, chest heaving, throat bulging, a small body shuddering under the assault. He leans back with a groan, his stomach tensing in anticipation.

His hand trails down her side, teases those soft mounds under the top, scrapes over the hem of her panties, down her inner thigh, a little nudge and her legs open, a body to move how he wants to, so pliant. He's tempted to throw his plans overboard, the urge growing to just take her and relieve the throbbing need in his pants. His fingers are shaking as he brushes them between her legs, over the soft, slightly damp fabric of her underwear.

He can't help himself any longer, he slips a finger under the hem, feels her warm skin and the slick gathering between her soft folds. Biting his lip, he traces her slit, from the little hidden nub down to her entrance, and he can already tell she's never been touched here before, tight and pure. Maybe she's had her own little fingers in there, but she'll soon find out that it won't compare to anything he's planning to do to her.

A grunt escapes him when he pushes the tip of his finger into her hole, a little squelching sound accompanied by a little whimper. He looks up, but she's still gone, head turned to the side, drool gathering in the corner of her parted lips. He watches her as he dips his finger deeper, feels the tight grip of her cute little cunt, so warm and squishy, barely able to accommodate one of his digits. This will take some work if he wants to keep her.

He's used virgins before, broke them, ravaged them until their blood mixed with his cum, their pained screams like music in his ears, but this girl... she's too innocent to be treated like that. It's a strange feeling he's never had before. It's warm and somewhat comforting, as smooth as her tight little pussy. He pumps his finger slowly in and out, noticing the wetness gathering around it. Her mind may be clouded, but her body reacts nonetheless.

Why not start her training while she's unconscious? Might make it easier for her once she comes to. He settles next to her, pushing her panties aside more to allow his thumb to find her clit. Pumping his finger, he rubs it gently, draws tight circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves, feels it pulsing under his touch. His cock twitches against the fabric of his pants, and he grits his teeth to ignore it.

Her body shudders, little uncontrollable twitches in her thighs, her stomach fluttering, her soft breaths slightly faster as he keeps working his finger into her tight warmth. His eyes on her face, relaxed in sleep, but there's still a little twitch to her eyebrows, a little furrow, a quiet whimper falling from those plump lips. He fingers her faster, thumb pushing harder on her nub, those sweet squelching sounds making his head spin.

A tiny moan erupts from her throat, a quiet “Ah...” humming in the atmosphere, and he feels her tensing up, her walls gripping his finger, but he works it in and out still, knuckles-deep, thumb assaulting her clit. He wants to lean in and taste her so bad, but somehow he holds himself back, another trait he's new to. Instead he watches her small body convulsing under his touch, hips jerking against his hand, cunt clamping down on his digit, and when he pulls it out, her wetness seeps out of the tiny hole, trailing down to the other, dripping onto the sheets.

He inhales deeply, takes in that sweet scent of her orgasm, and wipes his hand on her inner thigh, spreading her release on her warm skin, before he leans back and brings his finger to his lips, unable to fight the urge to taste her after all. He prefers to have his face between soft thighs, drinking directly from that intoxicating fountain, but for now it'll do. His tongue laps around his fingertip, and he closes his eyes, taking her in, that sweet, sweet taste.

Before he leaves her be, he adjusts her panties and throws the blanket over her sleeping form. Then it's a short trip to the bathroom, shower turned on, clothes discarded on the floor, and he's barely in there when his right hand closes around his angrily throbbing cock.

Fuck. This girl will be a challenge. An exercise in restraint.

🟥 TWO

End notes: So, I guess the slow burn of Innocence Lost got to me, big time. I have no idea from what dark and ugly depths I pulled this story, but it is here, at least the first 10 chapters of it, the first season if you will. (And there will be more!) I'll upload a new chapter every Monday!

I hope the tags didn't put you off too much, but if you are reading this, maybe you pulled through, and I thank you for it! Thank you for joining me on this wild ride! I appreciate you very much!

By the way, this all came to be, somehow, because I've been listening to a lot of Electric Callboy recently (strangely enough, iykyk) and their video to Hate/Love kinda brought this all down. Or at least started it all. Sometimes inspiration strucks in the weirdest forms.

Thanks again for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE ◾️TEN

ELEVEN◾️TWELVE