#snapped my pearls from how hard i clutched them

[kaasknot]

Heyo! Hope you’re having a good weekend!

I saw this today and wonder if you have a take on it?

https://www.laineygossip.com/rami-malek-to-star-as-buster-keaton-new-drama-series-seems-like-job-for-johnny-knoxville/73389

i've seen so many takes flash through the buster keaton fandom in the past 48 hours, lol. as for this article, i mostly agree with the author's objections to rami malek. he doesn't especially look like buster, but eh, he's got similarly ginormous buggy eyes, which imo is more important than <checks writing on facebook> nose, jawline, or height. also he's a good actor and good with accents, so at face value he's no worse than donald o'connor in 1957's "the buster keaton story."

the thing that took my fucking breath away, though, was this sentence: "Over the last twenty years, no one has done more in cinema to keep the spirit of Buster Keaton alive than Knoxville and the Jackass crew." i am SORRY??? this author thinks fucking jackass is the true spirit of buster keaton???

rant incoming.

i don't particularly like comedy as a genre. it relies too much on idiotic situations, juvenile humor, or humiliation. i've never watched an episode of "jackass," but from what i've heard, it leans hard on the last two. i cannot stress this enough: buster's sense of humor bears almost NOTHING in common with johnny knoxville's, aside from stuntwork.

i hate humiliation-based comedy beyond words. i hate it. i got bullied severely as a kid, and candid camera-type shit where some quote-unquote "comedian" comes along and torments another person for laughs reads to me as pure bullying. when buster cameoed on "candid camera" in 1962, the joke was always on him. he would go into a restaurant and suffer mishap after mishap, to the point that the other patrons would try to help him. the best modern comparison is that tiktok of the guy faking phone confessions so he can capture the eavesdropper's reactions. it's the kindest form of bystander humor i can think of, and a far cry from "jackass."

i have a low tolerance for that kind of comedy too, tbh. it's better than making someone else the butt of the joke, but it's so hard to get the balance right, and more often than not it makes me want to curl up and die of secondhand embarrassment. but i never get that feeling in buster's films. sure, he goes through embarrassing situations, but it never hurts. there's a gentleness and deft touch that keeps it from being sadomasochistic. and i think this is something people don't really understand about his style of comedy: yes, it was physical, and yes, it was slapstick, but it was also surprisingly cerebral. he wasn't just a manchild yelling and throwing pies around; it could be very subtle stuff. and, god, he would have fucking died before he did something like nailing his balls to his thigh or snorting wasabi till he puked. just trying to imagine him doing that is—it's like trying to open a lock with an orange peel. it's not only laughable, it's absurd to try. buster's humor wasn't based in shock value. it was based in logic, wry commentary on humanity, and yes, eye-popping stunts that he walked away from—unharmed.

it's straight up comparing an arabian to a donkey. i mean sure, they're both horse-shaped, right?

back to the article, the author's correct that stuntwork is vital to any buster keaton biopic, and i do have reservations about rami's casting on that front. buster learned how to tumble at the age of three, and he practiced it continuously for the next 67 years. unless rami has a background in dance, gymnastics, or stuntwork... i'm not sure he'll be able to train up the kind of muscle memory he'll need before filming.

but i'm also willing to extend the benefit of the doubt. i heard a rumor that he's also a producer on the series; to me, that indicates he's invested. he wants it to be good.

brace for the worst, hope for the best. that's what i'm doing.

#askbox #ghoulkitten #buster keaton #the biopic #fucking jackass‚ jesus christ #snapped my pearls from how hard i clutched them

[januaryembrs]

FIGHT TALK | Eddie Munson x Sunshine!Reader

Request: Hi! Can I request a Drabble with the character Eddie Munson, with the prompt “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever.”. Imagine that Eddie being protective and acting as a bodyguard to the reader who is being bullied a lot, he feels sorry and guard her.

description: Eddie is not very happy when he finds his darling girlfriend stashed in the AV room after her first fight

word count: 1.1k

trigger warnings: swears, blood, mention of the f slur, broken nose? very quick dirty thought from Eds (it’s Eddie what can I say)

main masterlist

authors note: eddie x sunshine reader is about to be a thing around this neck of the woods since my beloved @palacearcaderadiostation demands more 💗

“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Dustin held his hat scrunched tightly in his hands, as if he were in church or in mourning. “I never even got to say goodbye to Tews, my mom’s gonna be crushed,”

“Are you shitting me, he’s gonna make us wish we were dead,” Mike rubbed a hand over his tired face, “Do you remember what he did to Tommy H when he shook her soda can and it exploded in her face? My mom said the Hagen’s had to take him to a specialist in Chicago to get his nose fixed.”

Dustin paled even more, as Lucas returned with a sweat on his brow, the older boy hot on his heels.

“Move! Move out of my way- Out of my way,” Eddie cursed, shoving the other students hard enough they shot him dirty looks over their shoulders. Not that he cared, he had a sneer of his own as he looked down at the three boys that seemed to quiver in their place under his sable gaze, “Where is she?”

“Eddie, please understand- We tried to tell her-” Dustin spluttered as Mike seemed to biting the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from doing the same. Eddie simply put his hand in the kids face, glaring at him hard enough to silence him immediately.

The three of them would rather face the Wyvern they’d fought in their last campaign head on than have to deal with their dungeon master like this.

“Where is she, Henderson?” He growled, and the boys could do nothing but point to the AV room they’d stashed her in to keep her from the other student’s nosy gaze. Eddie didn’t need any other instruction, he was at the door in seconds, bursting through into the small, darkened room, his eyes falling on the girl sat on the table, legs swinging back and forth happily as if she wasn’t sporting a black eye and a bloodied nose. His breath hitched, his chest constricting tightly as he watched her own gaze flick to his. “Oh, baby,”

“Eds! Did you see? Did they tell you what I did?” She asked, her lips pulling into a smile as her boyfriend came closer, his hands grabbing the sides of her face, thumbs stroking over her cheeks.

“Mother of Christ, what did those shits do to you?” He snapped angrily, though his eyes were wide, the sadness written clear over them. Waving him off, she held onto his wrists with split knuckles, another factor that had him nearly clutching his pearls in aghast.

“It wasn’t their fault Eds, David Johnson was picking on Dustin for his lisp and calling them all-” She stopped, her nose scrunching in disgust when she thought of the word they’d used.

“Gay?” Eddie asked, to which she shook her head, though his eyes were quick to notice how the movement tugged on her split nose, “The other one?”

“The F one,” She muttered, hating that she even had to say it, “I dunno, I can take it when they say it about me. I just couldn’t stand to hear that about them, they’re good kids,”

He felt his expression soften, watching as she fiddled with her sleeve, another thing that had fallen casualty to her heroics as a thin tear trailed up her arm.

“You are just the bravest maiden there is, huh?” He asked, his chest butterflying when she looked up at him with the same happy smile she always had when he spoke like they were in one of his games, “And oh, your teeth! Those beautiful teeth, are they okay? Did they survive the warfare? Let me see,” Within seconds he had puckered her cheeks with one hand effortlessly, his other thumb lifting her lips up and down as if giving her an oral exam.

Her giggles vibrated on his palm that rested on throat as she tried to pull away from his grip, only partially succeeding as he took his finger out but held her still.

“-ds” She mumbled through her pursed lips, feeling him loosen on her jaw for just a moment before he gave her a gentle peck, careful not to bump her nose. Trying to pull away to tend to her ailments, he was stopped when he felt her fingers loop through his belt, tugging him forward for another longer kiss, her pretty lilac nails brushing against his tummy.

Chuckling as he pulled away, his hand moving from her jaw to cup her cheek sweetly, his eyes seemed to zero in on the cut on the bridge of her nose, the skin around it mottling into a bruise. He couldn’t miss the way it seemed to welt with fresh blood, the sight of it worrying him despite it being no bigger than his nail.

“You are just in luck, brave maiden, your medic has arrived prepared,” She smiled wryly as he dug through his bag until his face lit up as he brushed against the packet, “Ah, ha!”

Pulling out two from his collection, he held the bandaids up to her face so she could see for herself.

“Dangermouse or Ducktales?” He asked, the two brightly coloured cartoons staring back at her as she pointed to the three little ducklings.

“Ducktales, please,” She said, watching him peel the paper from the back, gently sticking it over the bridge of her sore nose, “I bet you do this for all your patients,”

“Only the most valiant of warriors,” He murmured, pecking the tip of her nose with soft eyes, “That’s just because you’re my favourite,”

She giggled again, as he picked up her scraped hand delicately, scanning over the small cuts attentively. Putting his hand to his mouth, he fake retched, covering his eyes in horror.

“Oh God,” He gasped, turning away from the sight, “Oh, god. I think we’re gonna have to amputate,”

Shoving him on his chest, she snickered at his dramatics, her fingers already scabbing over from their minor wounds. “Quit playin’. I was very brave today,”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, baby,” He said, giving her knuckles some tender kisses, not caring it seemed gross seeing as she was bleeding. “Did you get him good at least, honey?”

She perked up even more, eyes alight with a sick little delight he hadn’t seen in her before. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t have his boxers stirring.

“I split his lip, would have gotten his nose too if he hadn’t jumped on me,” She said, and Eddie couldn’t help the raucous laugh that left his throat.

Pressing more kisses to her hairline he smiled, down at her from her place still sat atop the table. “Don’t worry, you’re on the bench in round two, Balboa. I’ll give him something to cry about,” He smirked at her, his nose brushing against hers sweetly, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever.”

Taglists:

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @pedrosgirlx @andy-rocks @musicartmayheminmyheart @howlerwolfmax @ciarra–mae @lou-la-lou

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson x sunshine reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 2

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader/OC x Santiago Garcia

Join my general tag list (Comment to join the tag list for this fic)

Triple Frontier Master List

Series Masterlist : Read on AO3

Summary: Javi and Santi talk about where to start with Lorea; Santi thinks on his night with Candy

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it.

Additional warnings: Catholic guilt and religous trauma and religion talk. However, this is not an anti catholic page. We can discuss the problems of the church at large and the guilt that abstence-only and shame based discussions on sex can affect people, but my family is catholic and I have a lot of respect for the individual people, especially Latino-catholics.

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and had hair. I've decided Candy is just latina coded bc she's a sex worker in colombia so this is what I'm doing.

3.1k words. Proof red by my beloved Fen

Perspective changed per section. When perspective is Santi or Javi, reader is referred to in the 3rd person or by Candy.

************************

You have Santi sat up on the bed, facing you. Well, Diego. That’s what he said his name was, but if he thought you didn’t know who the new DEA agent in town was, he was mistaken. After your 3rd arrest for prostitution, you got a lot more careful, and always tried to keep up with the police in the area. You wondered if he knew Javi.

“Alright Diego, tell me, what exactly is it you’re looking for?” You ask, but he looks confused, so you give a soft, warm sigh. He was one of those ones. “Are you just looking for a quick fuck? Getting to know each other and forming a connection, exploring things?”

Santi considered his options. “Well, maybe I’d like to learn a little bit… only had s-” He swallowed. “sex a few times… you know, lights off, missionary, couple pumps and done…” A nervous chuckle emitted from him, so you tried to ease him with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, baby boy, we can do that. Let’s start with getting to know a woman’s body, how about that?”

*

“Garcia, wake the fuck up.” Javi’s voice broke Santi out of his daydreaming, making him snap towards Javi.

“Huh? Sorry.”

“Whatsamatter, pretty boy, got dicked down too hard last night?”

Santi’s eyes went wide at that. “Dicked-?!?! DICKED DOWN? JAVI!” He leaned in to whisper harshly, as if it was important enough to keep quiet but not so bad Santi couldn’t miss an opportunity to clutch his pearls. “Javi, you fucking know I could get arrested for that!”

“I’m joking, pendejo.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that!”

Apparently, Santi looked concerned enough that Javi backed down, raising his hands in defeat. “Tranquilo, tranquilo amigo, lo siento. Yo parare.”

A little shaken, Santi glanced down as he calmed himself. “Gracias, Pena”. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head before clearing his throat. “So. Lorea. What do we got?”

*

Santiago Garcia had never seen a pussy up close before. There’d been porno magazines, sure… and he’d… touched a bit. He wasn’t an animal, Will had explained he can’t just shove his dick into a woman, that could hurt her. No, you gotta warm her up first, seduce her, open her up. Santi heard more than he ever wanted to of the sordid detail of Will eating pussy. However, when it came to actual sex, Santi barely got through it without a panic attack. There was no way he was going to attempt to go down on a girl under those conditions. Still, he didn’t want to hurt her, so he made sure to finger the 3 girls he’d somehow bumbled his way into bed with.

He needed to do better. Candy was allowing him the chance to explore, get over his nerves.

“But I want you to cum…” He had insisted.

“Well aren’t you a sweet boy… I’ll make sure I cum, how about that? Let me worry about that.”

“But…” he had looked across at her. “But I wanna learn how too.”

She nodded with reassurance. “You will, trust me, I’ll teach you. Just for today, focus on getting comfortable. I’ll let you know what feels good and what doesn’t but what works for me may not work for someone else, so remember that. Most important thing is communicating and listening to her body, so let’s start there.”

That’s how he got here, flat on his chest with Candy’s legs spread out before him. Her pussy was glistening for him.

“Where do I… how do I start?”

Candy sat up just a bit on her elbows. “Start by just getting familiar, explore.”

So he did. Santi started with touching. His index and middle finger swept along her folds, moving and opening her up for his view. She was beautiful. He started with the top, the area just below her pantyline tan skin under a bush of hair followed by her folds coming to a head.

“That’s the clit, that’s very important.” She took his fingers and pulled back the hood. “Touch there” When Santi complied, Candy sank back down on her bed with a hum.

Santi felt a swell of pride at giving her pleasure. “Is that good?”

“Very good, pretty boy. Lot of nerves right there.”

He continued touching below, feeling the way her skin moved to his touch and how his fingers slid across the slick, soft skin below… She looked delicious.

“Can I taste you?”

*

“Where do we even start with something like this?” Santi groaned, flopping his head back.

Javi couldn't help but roll his eyes at that. “Don’t be such a child, Garcia. You take this shit one step at a time, just like anything else. Let’s start with what we know.”

The handsome younger man sighed. “Fine.” He pulled out the casefiles and Javi noticed how much calmer he’d seemed, less high strung… still high strung but that was just Santiago, Javi came to realize. “Gabriel Martin Lorea, coke dealer, devout catholic and family man… none of which stops him from hiring hookers.”

Javi chuckles. “Few things do.”

“Well, marriage should, especially when you have children.” Santi glared at him. 

His naivete, something Javi had been dreading with a younger partner, ended up endearing Santi to him. “Right, right of course.” He smiled and shook his head before lighting up a cigarette.

“Do you really have to do that indoors?”

“So sue me. I’m the one smoking, it’s not like it can hurt you.”

“I don’t know, I heard of a study that secondhand smoke can-”

Javi blew a puff of smoke in Santi’s face. “That’s just anti-smoking propaganda pushed by doctors to sell more nicotine patches.”

*

Santi had dived right in. Once he had permission to taste, he very tentatively licked a strip up her folds and to the clit… and was suddenly a starved man, insatiable, desperate to devour her and drown in her juices.. She liked when he touched her clit so he was sure to latch his mouth over the hood. As he sucked, Candy instructed him to finger her and he was happy to oblige. This, he could handle at least.

“Good boy…” Candy cooed at him. “Such a good boy for me, so obedient.”

“Wanna be good.” He mumbled into your core as he lapped at her, hips rutting against the bed. “Wanna do good.”

When her fingers found his hair, tangling up in his curls and tugging just a bit, he couldn’t help but whine into her, toes curling in his socks.

“You’re doing so good, baby boy, so good, but I’m gonna need you to stop.”

Stop? He didn’t wanna stop. Santi wanted to die here with her… Was it time? How much time did he pay for- ait, he hadn’t even paid her yet. What was her going rate? He didn’t fucking care right now, right now he’d pay her his life savings, his military pension, his first born, whatever she wanted if he could cum. 

“Whyyyyy?!” He simply went back to eating her out, taking every moment he had.

“Because,” Candy pulled at his curls, forcing him to look up and crawl back up her golden body. “Because you are about to cum, and I still wanna ride you.”

He could feel his eyes go wide at that. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what that meant… but for someone who had only ever done missionary, the whole concept seemed so… dirty. Santi chuckled nervously, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll be honest, Candy, I’m not sure how much longer I’m gonna last as it is.”

He felt her chuckle. “Let’s slow down for a moment, then. I want you to undress.”

His breath hitched, but he made the move to undo his pants until she stopped him.

“Uh-uh, Diego. Stand up. Let me watch you undress.”

Undress like… standing? By himself? All out there and naked? “Um… can’t I do it here?”

“You can.” She confirmed with a kind smile. “But I’d really like to watch you strip for me.”

How could he resist that? Tentative, slow and careful, Santi stood up and Candy sat on the edge of the bed, bottoms off but still clothed top. “Are you gonna take that off?” It was half a joke, half a genuine question.

Candy nodded. “I will, just trust me.”

And he did, with everything in him.

So he took off his shirt.

*

“Okay. Catholic. Do we know what church he goes to?”

Javi raised an eyebrow? “You think a drug lord is going to daily mass?”

“No, but if he’s devout I assume he’s got a family that goes. Wife and children maybe, but definitely a mother. I don’t know one woman over 50 who doesn’t belong to a perish, especially a hispaña woman.”

“You find a lot of company con mujeres mayor, amigo?”

“Shut up. I say we start there. If we can find out about his family's church, we can probably find out a little more.”

Apprehensive as always, Javi crossed his legs, doubtful. “I don’t know, what can we possibly find out?”

Santi shrugged. “Not sure, but churches have a lot of records when it comes to members and if he has a family that is active we might find out something useful.”

“Is this really the best use of our time?”

Javi raised a good point, this might be a dead end, and they would have wasted all that time. “Just give me a picture of all known families and I’ll keep an eye out.”

Now that caught Javi’s attention, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You go to church, Garcia?”

A faint blush crept up Santi’s neck. His mother was very religious, that religion instilled into him and his sister. His sister couldn’t care less anymore, but then again she had never cared much about their mother’s harsh opinions and strict standards… Santi did. And so, even now with her passing, Santi attended mass often. Not a part of a regular perish, he just attended where he could and when his schedule allowed. The old women there did love him, but Santi knew Javi would never let that go. “Tengo muchas tías y primos en la zona. Si no muestro mi cara en la iglesia a veces, se lo dirán a mi madre y nunca escucharé el final.”

Javi didn’t need to know his mom was dead.

*

Santi nervously slides down his trousers and underwear, revealing the last bit of himself to Candy. Except for his tube socks. He wasn't sure what to do about those.

“Can I… move now?” He asked, a tremble in his soft voice.

She cocked her head to the side. “Does it make you nervous? To be seen like this.”

“To be seen like what?”

Candy stood up. “Naked, vulnerable, in full lighting…” She walked over towards him and placed her hands on her chest. “To let someone be able to see every part, every dip…” She felt over the ripples of his stomach muscles. “Every.” Lower. “Single.” Lower. “Inch.” Grabbing onto his hardened cock and began stroking it.

Santi let out a shuttered gasp at the touch of her hand. With her other one she lifted it to his mouth. “Lick, pretty boy.”

He was happy to oblige, not needing to know why. He didn’t need to ask questions with her, he could simply shut off his mind and let Candy guide him… mother knows best. Santi lapped at her palm, keening into it as the wetness smeared on his face.

“Such a good puppy”

The whine that emitted from him was out of him control; he liked the praise, he liked the nickname. He liked it a lot. He had been taught his whole life that sex was for procreation, a dirty thing to be done in shame and in quiet but here she was, proudly jerking him off with the now-wet hand… His mom would have said she was consumed by lust, that the devil had taken her, but Santo saw nothing but kindness in her eyes. Yes, he was paying her, he was well aware of that fact but she did genuinely seem to want to help him, to let him explore, to allow him to care for this basic human instinct… Was this dirty? Was this wrong? He wasn’t sure he cared anymore.

“Doing so good baby boy, are you close?”

He was seconds away from coming. “S-so close.” He had his head thrown back, letting her take the lead on his pleasure.

With that, she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, stifling his impending orgasm.

“Mierde!” Santiago grunted, body jolting a bit in the physical frustration.

“Relaje, guapo. Trust me, okay? Can you do that?”

He groaned, but complied. Santi trusted her with everything. Right now, he’d follow her into the dark.

*

“Alright, so Pope Santiago will case the churches in his free time. Where does that leave us during the time we actually get paid for?” Javi thought the nickname was fitting for the apparently religious boy.

“I think we need to learn more about his free time.” Javi put out his cigarette. “How about we talk to some girls, see if they know anything?”

Santi narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Girls?”

“Hookers, Pope, hookers.”

“Oh.” 

Javi noticed how he suddenly became so nervous. The boy needed to get laid. The new information of Santi being at least semi-religious was a whole new insight on his psyche. He already seemed to be a bit of a mama’s boy, a goody-two-shoes with a shiny military career and a good heart, but this was a little different. Javier’s family was catholic, as most families were. He had been baptized, first communion, confirmed, the whole jazz but as soon as he’d got annoying enough, his mom stopped bushing the issue. Santi, however, was still practicing.

“I’ll handle that part, Garcia. Don’t worry, I won't drag the Pope into a whore house.”

Javi had no doubt Santi could hold his own in most scenarios. Hell, he’d seen it. In line of fire, interviews, everything Santi could handle. But take him into a room full of prostitutes? Well, they’d eat him alive.

*

“Are you ready for me, pretty boy?” You had him right where you wanted him, right where you liked pretty boys like him that you got to corrupt in moments like this… Santiago was special though, you could tell. He was innocent, but he was far from the most innocent. You’d taken plenty of virginities before, so many you’d lost track of it all, but the way Santiago looked at you right now as he was sat up against the padded headboard of your bed slowly stroking him as your legs straddled his. Santiago looked at you with reverence, adoration, like he was fully submitted below you… as if you had the power, even though it was in his hands as the customer. Yeah, he was a special one. 

 A good, young DEA agent, straightline former military, special Ops and he came to you to show him how to pleasure a woman; not just to have sex, not just to get off, but to learn how to heighten the pleasure of all parties… A church going boy too. 

“Do I need to beg? Because I’ll fucking beg.” His hands were gripped at the sheets, lightning at the knuckles.

“Oh sweet boy, I won’t make you beg, I’m just checking in.” You sit up, rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds. Pulling down the foreskin, you begin to sink down on him, watching his eyes widen as your warmth enveloped him. He filled you right up. Every. Single. Inch.

“Breath baby, breath.” You urge him as you see his lips pressed tight together. 

He did as he was told, releasing a breath. 

“Good job. Now keep breathing, I’m going to finish undressing.” His cock was stuffed into you, and your bottom remained still as your top moved, stipping off your shirt and bra in one. 

It was merely a whisper. “Beautiful…” His eyes were nearly glazed over in lust when you began your work.

Up, down, up, down… you moved on him with your hands on his chest for balance… he seemed almost in shock as he looked in your eyes, only staying momentarily to look at your breasts before quickly looking back at your face as if it was impolite.

“It’s okay to look, Diego. You won’t offend me. You can find me sexy, do you think I’m sexy, Diego?”

“So pretty…” It was gasped out and you could tell he was almost there again.

You began to bounce on him with more vigor and the “You can touch me too”

“I’m… I’m a little scared too…”

Running your fingers through his curls, you ruffle it, enjoying the look of the pristine young man coming undone for you. You take the initiative for him. Hand in hand, you guide him to your breasts, encouraging Santiago to grope and squeeze as he liked and you reveal in the feeling of feeling of his excited pawing. He was enraptured in you, you and him were the only thing that matter right now, and you knew it. You stretched around him,  and you knew it had to be one hell of sight.

“Watch” Pulling him by his curls you guide him to look down where you and him connected, letting him watch the watch your cunt moved to accommodate him, making room to be filled over and over again. “See how my body let’s you in? I was made for you, pretty boy. I was made to take you inside me.”

The thick stretch was bringing you closer, and you knew he was only holding on by a thread himself, so you began to touch yourself. “Focus on that feeling, Diego. The feeling of us together. Can you feel it? I sure can.”

“I- I can, yes.” He was panting now, his bare tanned chest heaving with every bounce of you tits in his hands. 

“Yes what?” But he looked up at you in confusion, a desperation on his face to be good, do good, do this all right. “Yes ma’am”

“Yes ma- ma’ammmm” With that, Santiago’s hits thrust upward into you, his eyes drilled shut and mouth tightly closed in his attempt to muffle his own release.

You did no such thing. As he filled you up, you spilled over yourself and felt the gushing release of your cunt soaking his cock, you yelled out for him, letting him know how good he made you feel. Relaxing onto his chest, Santiago wraps his arms around you like an affection-starved child, and you get a little hint into what you think this was all about.

He needed praise. He needed fondness. He needed skin to skin contact like nothing else right now. He needed to be a good person and do it all right and know he was doing it right. 

Santiago needed to be loved.

*****************

IM BACK

Sorry i know it was a wait lmfao. I posted like 3 chapters of the wrong way sequel before this one lolololol OOPS

But i promise I got a fun plan for this fic! I hope you all enjoy.

Remember, reblogs are the only real way to spread work! Please consider relogging to support this writing.

Comments mean the world to me!

Asks are always open to discuss this fic or my others, but also for non fandom too! Talk to me about anything you're excited about! I wanna get to know you all.

Also, as a note im trying my best for historic acuracy but I know narcos goes from like 70's onward but this stays in the 70's. Pretend Pablo Escabar isn't an issue anymore lmfao.

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @itspdameronthings @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbool @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @laiisleitte @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #triple frontier #santiago garcia #santiago garcia reader #fem reader #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia smut #santiago pope garcia #javier peña smut #narcos #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #romana writes #romana writes smut #narcos fanfiction #narcos smut #triple frontier smut #pedro pascal smut #latina reader

[bluberryfields]

"What the hell did you just do?"

Part 2 of whatever. Continuing on with Tadfield Manor scenes, we get to the infamous "Wall" scene. I know it has been analyzed by many so far, but that's never stopped people in the world of literary analysis from spewing their own thoughts on well-reviewed texts. Also, I just want to.

Okay, so once they enter the manor building and see the management training branding, Crowley decides to "help out" and make all of the paintball guns into real machine guns. He snaps his fingers and points double finger guns at the passing "soldier".

Aziraphale is dumbfounded. "What the hell did you just do?

Such language, Angel! And no physical reaction to it like Crowley did when he said "Heaven's sake" in E6. Huh.

Crowley, meanwhile, is thoroughly pleased with himself. They want to battle? He's happy to oblige.

This plus the scare in the courtyard lets us see Crowley enjoying the few perks of being a demon. It's fucking adorable.

Aziraphale cannot comprehend how Crowley - who just miracled a stain away on his coat because it bothered him - could do something so thoroughly evil. And with a jaunty step!

If Aziraphale had pearls, he'd be clutching them so hard.

To which Crowley takes the opportunity to once again point out the flawed binary system of morality. We the audience will see this argument again in the Body Snatcher minisode, so it's fun to see how these two keep having the same old debates throughout time just with different causes with which to start from.

Pointing out hypocrisy while slinking down a hall? Crowley, you delicious tramp.

Aziraphale is still thoroughly horrified, but Crowley concedes with a sigh that everyone will, in fact, be fine. To me, his tone is a mix of disappointment at him not being quite as much of a bastard as he paints himself. He can't really hide his true self from Aziraphale.

I love how he can't stop moving his body. Snakes gonna slither.

Then here is it. The big moment. Smug little Aziraphale feels the need to mention how nice Crowley is underneath his demonic persona.

We now know that this is a reoccurring exchange, where Crowley must defend his title of Big Bad Demon in front of Azi's kind compliments. There's serious consequences to Crowley being labeled "nice" and Azi knows this by now. So why does he keep bringing it up? To provoke Crowley? To finally break him into admitting Azi is right? It's not like Azi can protect Crowley from Hell's wrath, but he pushes anyway.

I thought Crowley was the shit-stirrer in this relationship.

And now my favorite part. Sister Mary shows up and rightly implies these two are about to nail each other through the drywall. But when she recognizes Crowley, he stops her in her tracks.

The sass! It's off the fucking chart! Only an Angel could withstand such a display!

Aziraphale just straightens his clothes and lets the sass go unchallenged because he's still has a bit of self-preservation instincts left.

So I already talked about the "Luck of the devil" line from Aziraphale here, but it truly is a fun moment in the context of the whole scene. Crowley is worked up from the "nice" comment and Aziraphale's seeming refusal to stop analyzing him.

Horny Aziraphale is sassy and Crowley looks like he wants to bite through a door frame.

So, obviously, I've spent way too much time rewatching these scenes, but I do find it so interesting how we see so much of their relationship on display within just a few minutes. The different personality traits to draw them together while also pushing them apart.

The way Aziraphale knows how to work Crowley, who in turns knows how to indulge appropriately. (*cough* bullet catch *cough*)

The way Crowley happily taps into his demonic toolbox to spread a bit of chaos without actually causing serious harm. (*cough* Job *cough*)

The way Aziraphale reflexively tows the party line of Heaven even in the face of Crowley's demonstrations of humanity's instincts. (*cough* all of time *cough*)

And basically the way they bring out the best (and sometimes worst) of each other. Some might say they're a team. Or a group. A group of the two of them.

#good omens #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #david tennant #michael sheen #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens meta #the cutest chaos goblin #luck of the devil #sassy aziraphale #supernatural sass #microcosm of the universe #nice is a four letter word

[cloudcountry]

lovely little specimen

Genre/Tropes: No notable ones!!

Summary: You decide to surprise Jade with a mushroom fairy costume on Halloween.

Author's Comments: i would LOVE wearing one of those big mushroom hats. they look so cute and so extra i love them.

~~~~~

You felt your heart flutter in your chest as you approached the alchemy lab, a giant mushroom hat balanced on top of your head. There’s a pit of nerves twisting on your stomach that you try your best to ignore as Grim follows you to the building in his cute little witch costume. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t pick this outfit specifically for Jade, but his reaction is slowly becoming a source of dread. You know all too well that he’ll take this as an opportunity to humiliate you, but you reach out and open the front door despite your reservations. Grim grabs onto your leg with a quiet “mrah!” and you can practically feel him shaking.

There’s nobody to greet the two of you at the door as you slowly proceed into the hallway, the blue-green glow at the end of the it beckoning you further into the darkness. You feel like you’re being watched, you think, and you shiver as you clutch your little tote bag tighter.

The room emitting the glow is a laboratory, you realize. Peeking your head in, you don’t see anything overly suspicious. You should know better than you judge immediately though, as Octavinelle is known for their sneaky little tricks. Halloween was practically made for them.

Stepping over to the examination table, you try not to think too hard about what the various splatters of dark red and brown are (even though your mind screams dried blood.) Grim has been awfully quiet, so you look down only to see a blank space where he used to be. Fear grips your heart and you whip around, only to see Jade towering over you with his sharp teeth on full display.

You nearly bruise your hip with how hard you jump back, a small scream tearing its way from your throat at the close proximity. How the fuck did he get that close without you knowing? Since when did he move that quietly?! Great Seven, he was practically on top of you!

“Oh?” he steps closer, eyes raking over you form like a predator about to pounce, “What is this? A lovely little specimen stumbled into our lab...Hmm, how peculiar.”

You bunch the fabric covering your thighs in your hands, reminding yourself that this is just Jade, not a monster.

“Do you like the costume?” you ask, voice shaker than you would have liked, “I...worked really hard to put it together.”

Jade steps closer to you, a nasty smirk still on his face. You find yourself leaning back on instinct, and before you realize it Jade has you caged between him and the table with his arms.

“I appreciate the effort you put into this.” he hums, brushing his fingers along your sleeve, “Did you do it for me, Little Pearl?”

“Yes. I thought you’d...like it.” you mumble, turning your head away as he leans even closer.

He chuckles, and there’s a warm sweat that breaks out over your body at the sound. An arm snakes around your back, and for a moment you toy with the possibility of him not wanting you to bruise your back on the table. But no, this is Jade, and he’s doing it to ensure that you remain as trapped as possible within his grasp. You’re sure of it.

“How touching. I truly do have the best lover.” he smiles, this time without his teeth, and for a second his visage turns tender. You know Jade too well to be fooled, though, because he still hasn’t let you go.

“Jade...?” you say his name hesitantly, eyes darting nervously around the room. If you were to grip the table any harder, you’re certain the wood would snap underneath your fingers.

“Yes, Little Pearl?” he chuckles, eyelashes fluttering as his golden eye glows, the look as affectionate as it is foreboding.

“Your costume is nice too.” you fumble with your words, mouth curving into a wobbly smile, “You look handsome.”

“Charming.” he snickers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You flatter me, my dear.”

You open your mouth to reply, but your voice is caught in your throat as Jade presses a single kiss to your cheek. You feel his knuckle drag over the other side of your face as the black part of his hair brushes against your skin. His lips are soft and they linger, the skin that he touched tingling faintly. You’re left gaping as he squeezes your hip, pulling away.

“Apologies, my sweet. You looked too adorable to resist.” he hums, slinking off towards the door, “You best remember that this is a haunted establishment, and that my fellow Octavinelle students will not bestow any mercy upon you today.”

Your brain catches up to you and floods with questions on Grim’s whereabouts, but you can’t force any noise out of your throat as Jade smirks and wiggles his fingers at you, disappearing back into the hallway from whence you came as if he was never there to begin with.

You go through the rest of the haunted house and find Grim being chased around a table by Azul. Even after Halloween has ended, he still has not forgiven you for not finding him sooner.

But still. It was worth it.

#auburn's fics <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #twst jade leech #jade leech fluff #bastard jade leech #jade x reader #twst jade x reader #man i love jade leech

[raccoonfallsharder]

go to frickin' bed ✩࿐࿔ (the captain says to)

hey kiddo. snuggle up in your favorite blanket. drink some sleepytime tea. stop doomscrolling. let rocket put on his dad-glasses and read you a bedtime story. captain's orders.

in honor of it being finals season for many of you, i'm resharing the go to frickin' bed already drabble/minific from ✩࿐࿔ take what you need here, in full. ao3 version here.

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabbles | word count: 737.

You almost don’t hear him at first.

“Hey.” Rock snaps his fingers at you. “You with me?”

“Mmm?” You pick your eyes up from your work, and you’re surprised by how much they weigh. “Sorry? What?”

Rocket’s standing next to the couch, staring at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just catching up on some stuff,” you tell him, grimacing down at the Terran laptop cradled on your thighs. You close your eyes in annoyance, and wonder if you can get away with just, like, not opening them again.

“You look like shit.”

“And you know how to turn on the sweet-talk,” you say mildly.

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

You frown and reach for your coffee mug - take a sip before you realize it’s room-temperature, and grimace. You set the caffeine back down. “I don’t know. Like…” You try to calculate when you went to bed, then adjust for the time you probably spent scrolling on your phone, and compare it to when your alarm went off this morning. “Like, maybe fourish hours? Could’ve been five, but I woke up in the middle and it was hard to turn my brain off.”

His carnelian eyes narrow, and his ears flick toward you. “Aren’t you Terran humies supposed to get, like, seventeen hours of sleep or something?”

You choke. “What? No. That’s, like, cats or something. What the hell?”

“Well, how many, then?”

“Like - eight. Ideally. But I think some people need more and some need less.”

He eyes you witheringly. “I can tell you right now, you ain’t one of the ones who needs less.”

An exhausted laugh stumbles up your ribs and over your lips. “You’re such an ass.”

His eyes are still narrowed, tracking you. He pulls a thin piece of tech out of his pocket, then looks at you. “When d’you gotta get up tomorrow?”

You pull up your calendar. “God. Uh. Probably in like – ten hours?”

He holds up a clawed finger. “I’ll be back in one. Then I’m taking you to bed.”

You clutch imaginary pearls. “Buy me dinner first, dude.”

“Ohhh,” he drawls. “I see. You got jokes.” He’s still brandishing that single, sharp-clawed finger, extending his arm till it’s an inch away from the tip of your nose. “One hour. Get your shit together and in a good place to stop by then.” He snags your coffee mug. “And no more of this frickin’ poison tonight.” He gives you that stupid wink of his and turns to swagger away before tossing over his shoulder, “Captain’s orders.”

“Geeezus,” you groan, but as soon as he’s rounded the corner, you start trying to figure out what you can do before it’s time to wrap up. When Rocket gets an idea in his head, it’s not like you can do anything to stop him.

Sure enough, he’s back – too soon. You’d lost track of time once again, which is probably why you never go to bed at a reasonable hour in the first place.

What’s surprising isn’t that he’s back, but that he has a mug in his hands. From here, you can smell something peppermint-sweet, and you know it’s the Usarkian bedtime tea that Mantis brings you whenever she passes by Knowhere.

“C’mon,” he says impatiently, and you sigh and close your laptop. He stops you before you can bundle everything up in your arms, soundlessly handing you the tea while he collects your belongings and gestures for you to follow him with a brisk nod of his head. You sip the tea carefully as you trail after him – but he waits while you drink it, while you brush your teeth and get changed. “In,” he orders.

You want to tell him, This is fuckin’ ridiculous – but it’s also kind of nice. Meekly, you slide into bed, and he fully tucks you in, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Your eyes must be huge, but you let him, and you might think you had already fallen asleep and that this is all a dream – except he’s scowling and grumbling I gotta take care of everything around here while he fusses with the blankets, and that’s how you know he hasn’t been bodysnatched or something.

“All right,” he says gruffly. “I’m turnin’ out the lights.”

That brandished claw is back.

“And put your frickin’ phone-thing away, or I’ll turn off the Terran internet. You know I will.”

remember: brains don't retain jackshit without sleep, nutrients, and moments of rest.

you got this. you're gonna win your finals.

check the ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlistfor more self-care reminders, including eat somethin, take a fuckin study break, and drink some goddamn water (yeah that still means you).

#take what you need #rocket bullies you for your health #look sometimes you just need someone to tell you what to do #wholesome #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fluff #rocket reminders #go to bed #studying #finals #rfh fanfic #rocket raccoon x you #rocket racoon x reader #rocket x you #gotg rocket #rfh masterlist #self care reminder #self care tips #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fanfiction #self care #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg fluff #gotg vol 3 #guardians of the galaxy fluff #x reader #reader insert #gotg x reader

[drabbles-mc]

Nobody's Business

Rick Flag & Harley Quinn, past Rick Flag x June Moone

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo challenge! Bingo square: Monster Fucking

Warnings: 18+, language, angst

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Is this a loose interpretation of the prompt 'monster fucking'? Perhaps! Was it fun to write anyway? You betcha! I love me a little Rick & Harley moment. No one can take that from me lmao. Also, shout-out to to @garbinge because honestly if we hadn't talked earlier I don't know if I would've ever gotten around to tackling this prompt haha.

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“So,” Rick grumbled as everyone started to make their way back to the chopper, “from now on I guess we gotta split up the teams a little differently.”

Harley was cackling as she walked beside him. “Why?”

He shot her an annoyed glare. The issues that unfolded weren’t her fault at all, but she definitely knew what the issues were and why he was making the decisions that he was. “You know why.”

She was still laughing, nearly doubled over. She desperately wanted to hear him say it, but she had a feeling that she wasn’t going to be successful in that. It would’ve been funny, though, to hear Rick talking about how they have to restructure how they split up because two members of their team got caught hooking up while they were out in the field and supposed to be doing literally anything other than that. When their comms had gone silent out of nowhere, Rick had split away from Harley to go and check to make sure that they hadn’t gotten killed or captured. What he found was something that he wasn’t ever going to be able to burn from his memory no matter how hard he tried.

“You shouldn’t be kink-shamin’ on the job, Flag,” she said, mostly joking but her tone just serious enough to get a rise out of the man walking with her.

“They shouldn’t be,” he shook his head, sputtering to get the words out, “kink-anything on the job!”

“You never said that.”

Rick tossed his bag up into the helo with a shake of his head. “Didn’t think it needed to be said.”

“Now you know for next time.”

“There ain’t gonna be a next time.”

Harley was giggling at the thought of it. She wished that she could’ve been there to see the look on Rick’s face in person, although she had to assume that his expression when she saw him even a few minutes after the fact must’ve been pretty close. She could only imagine what his face would be like if something like that ever did happen again. It wasn’t completely out of the question. Each time their team went out they were essentially heading out to die, after all.

“Maybe you should try it,” Harley said with a laugh as she plopped down in the seat beside him, their backs against the wall of the chopper.

“Try what?” he asked as he clipped the straps across his chest to keep him in place. He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth but there was no taking them back now.

“I dunno, I’m just sayin’, maybe a little monster-fucking would loosen you up a bit.”

“Harley,” he snapped, keeping his voice quiet but sharp.

“What?!” she sounded genuinely shocked that he responded that way. “It might help!”

He shook his head. “We’re not talking about this.”

She shrugged, relaxing a bit as they prepared to take off and head back to Belle Reve. “Alright. Still don’t know why you’re clutching your pearls like it’s something you’ve never done before.”

His head snapped to look at her. “What?”

“What?”

He knew better than to let the conversation continue, but he was so confused and annoyed that he couldn’t help himself. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You and the Doctor, right?”

Rick’s face hardened instantly, annoyance shifting into something much starker than that. “Don’t.”

“But—”

He cut her off. “Harley, shut it.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t like that with June.”

“June!” Harley exclaimed, the name unlocking part of her memory. “Right. Enchantress.”

“She’s not—” he stopped himself short, trying not to get more worked up than it was worth. “Her name’s June, Harley. And it wasn’t,” he sighed, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Alright,” she held her hands up in mock surrender, “it wasn’t like that.”

It was quiet between them for a few minutes. Rick’s mind was miles and months away from where he was currently sitting next to Harley. Memories playing in rapid succession as he stared down at the toes of his boots. He thought back on it all, wishing that it could’ve ended differently but also knowing that there really wasn’t any other way for it to end. His frown deepened the more that he thought about it.

Harley’s voice pulled him back to the present, chirping the words out beside him. “Still think you should try it.”

He let out a deep sigh. “I’m not talkin’ about this with you.”

She turned to look at him even though he wasn’t looking at her anymore. “You had a girlfriend since her? Or at least, y’know—”

“I said I’m not talkin’ about this.”

Harley nodded. “So that’s a no.”

Rick shook his head, still not looking at her. “You haven’t had a boyfriend since the clown got blown out of the sky.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the way that Harley flinched at that. He almost felt bad.

“Least I got an excuse—you’re not in prison.”

Rick chuckled humorlessly. “Might as well be.”

“’Cause you miss her that much?” she asked, her tone much more genuine than it had been before. There was hurt in her eyes, some of it on Rick’s behalf, most of it thinking about her own situation.

“Do you not know how to drop it?” Rick asked her, exasperated.

“You never answer my questions!”

“Because it’s not your fuckin’ business!”

“C’mon, Flag, we’re friends! Sure it’s my business.”

“We’re not—” he cut himself off. He was about to say that they weren’t friends, but when he stepped back and really looked at his life these days, she was one of the closest things that he had to one. “Doesn’t make it your business.”

Harley frowned, watching him intently even though he refused to look over at her. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation.

Just as he figured, his response didn’t stop her from asking anyway. “How long did it take to get over it?”

Rick let out a heavy sigh, shutting his eyes and relaxing as much as he could force his body to given the current circumstances. “I’ll let you know when it happens.”

#the suicide squad #suicide squad #suicide squad fanfic #the suicide squad fanfic #rick flag #harley quinn #rick flag x harley quinn #rick flag x june moone #harley quinn x rick flag #navy and roos sleepover #navy and roo's sleepover #slumber party #rick flag fanfiction #harley quinn fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[docmbrainrotz]

x3 First post and it's gonna be

Docm77 and Scar chaos ofc

Wip of a project Im doing + idea for rp request

Doc drew in a deep breath, feeling his eye water as he did so.

Oh, god no. God no no no no.

Raising his hands to his head, all he could do was stand with his mouth open. His fingertips dug through his hair, digging into his skin.

His tomato garden blazed in a violent inferno, he didn't even know if there was anything to salvage- He was a scientist- He could break reality but he couldn't fix this. "What did you DO?" He whipped his hand around, grabbing that fucking matador-mattress-elf?? hot guy by their shoulders.

*Scar stumbled over his words, but all Doc could do was shake them. Standing over the man, it took everything to keep Doc from snapping.* "You used Flaming arrows? FLAMING ARROWS? You ruined my Garden! I've spent years on this!"

"I-I can fix it, I have a water bu-"

"WHAT is a Water Bucket going to do against this?"

Doc's words became exasperated as he stepped back, clutching his head. Pulling at his hair, he felt himself hyperventilating. At this point, he was choking from how sharps his breath had gotten. No no, those fucking pesky birds- That hot guy had ruined his deepest passion: Sure, he had tomatoes growing scattered around: On his flagpole, in the Hall of Goat, but this had many different breeds, cucumbers, onions, carrots. He didn't mind initially when Scar tried to surprise him with their arrows, but how could he be so fucking careless?? Without even realizing, in the dry heat of the edge of the perimeter, the firey arrow had nestled itself into the thick veins of his golden cherry tomatos.. A small flame quickly consumed the wilting leaves and wooden frames.

"I-I.. iM .. Im so sorry, Doc, I really.." He couldn't find the right words. Scar stood there, the wind that carried the violent blaze tearing through his clothes. Stepping away, he used his elytra to launch himself back into the air- "I'll be back! I'll fix this!"

*Doc crossed his arms over his chest, watching the fire that had overtaken his garden. The resolve in his heart surely blazed hotter than *this.* His nails dug into his arms as he let out a deep breath.

The hermits flew over his head. Pearl placed a shulker, handing out splash water potions, buckets of water...

...While he stood there, watching in anger, his friends *tried.*

Working around the outside, they made sure the plants were soaked so it wouldn't spread further. The splash water potions easily ate at the fire, yet someone.. doc felt more defeated. As the fire was extinguished, he saw the charred remains. Maybe he was content to let it keep going, not wanting to see the full extent of the damage.

His friends asked if he was fine, but their words were just buzzes in his ear.

It wasn't until it was all put out, his friends by his side, that he finally snapped out of his daze.. "I..-"

"Hey, it's okay. Let's get you inside." Gem spoke softly, seeing the sunset beginning to dip in the distance. He nodded quietly, leading his friends into the Hall of Goat.

"Doc. I'm really sorry." Scar said again, clearing his throat. He rested his hands on his lap, leaning forward in his wheelchair. He could float with his wings, but indoors he always needed his wheelchair still.

"I know you worked so hard on this garden, so I promise to help you rebuild every inch of it. I-I mean, Pearl wants to as well."

Doc looked at Scar. His anger faded away. This was still his friend, the one who made his favorite and most comforting place in hermitcraft: Scarland.

Still, the resentment built up like bile in his throat. He still wanted revenge for the hundreds of hours last. His tunnel bore, his tomatos, then what?

"I.. see.." Doc spoke, trying to calm his shaking voice. His accent was harsher than usual, "you'll.. rebuild it. Help terraform.. the burnt land."

#hermitcraft #docm77 #goodtimeswithscar #writing #i know this is cringe i don't care #i color code to help organixe my thoughts

[artificialqueens]

Will You Make Me Believe? 3/? (Group Fic) - Candy Cane

A/N: mega thank u to veronica and grinder once again bc yall are incredible beta's and u are both amazingggg <33333 had such a good time with this chapter and i hope that yall do too!! enjoy :) as per usual my sideblog is @artificialcandycane  

Summary: 

After ten years of the government taking down major cities, the collapse of Chicago is devasting for the Rebellion in New York and the Resistance in Las Vegas. They are trying to fight back, but things get complicated when the leader of the Rebellion disappears. Bob goes looking for her and instead makes two new friends, Kim and Naomi.

When the three friends return to New York, they learn that Sasha and Peppermint went off looking for Bob weeks ago. With a new goal in mind, Bob sets out with a team of her most trusted to track down her friends. But there’s a much darker truth waiting for them in the Outside. 

AO3 LINK

The Night Chicago Fell

Chicago, I.L.

  Shea ran over to Trixie and grabbed her by the shoulders. She shook their friend violently in an attempt to get her to snap out of her shock, which somehow worked. It wasn’t the strategy Kim would’ve used, but that didn’t matter. Trixie gasped and hugged herself tightly, Shea still clutching Trixie’s shoulders. The blonde’s eyes darted across their surroundings frantically and Kim couldn’t stop staring at her closest friend, terrified of what her next reaction might be.

  “Trixie? Trixie?” Shea said repeatedly, trying to get some sort of response from the woman.

  Trixie blinked rapidly and looked up at Shea with wide, terrified eyes, “What fucking happened?” 

  Shea sighed and pulled away from her, “We were next, apparently.”

  Realization dawned on Trixie’s face and her jaw dropped, “Oh God…”

  Pearl stood up and dusted the dirt off her knees, “Still not real, by the way.”

  Kim rolled her eyes, “I don’t think that’s important right now.” 

  “What? You really wanna argue the presence of an all-seeing, all-loving being? After it’s allowed this to happen every six months for a decade?” Pearl spat, glaring at Kim.

  “No-”

  “Good.”

  Kim closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she tried to remind herself they were all stressed and upset. Nothing was going right for them. Between the shaking ground and the bombs going off in the distance, the chaotic destruction of her city carried on. The last thing she wanted to do was increase the tension in their little group. At this rate though? That would be pretty hard to do. The sparking street light sticking out from the canopy of rubble above them seemed to agree with her.

  “We need to get out of here,” Shea said, looking at the mess above them. 

  Kim squinted as she tried to make out what could possibly be trapping them in, spotting mostly brick and dirt, “How are we supposed to do that?”

  “I don’t know, but we have to try,” Shea said, a newfound determination in her voice, “Do you guys see any water around here? Or food?”

  Trixie started taking in panicked breaths, “W-We’re going to die down here, aren’t we?”

  “We’re gonna try and figure something out,” Kim said, wishing she could get up and go hug her friend. Unfortunately, she was still stuck sitting against the wall of debris made up of dirt and chunks of concrete. 

  Kim looked fearfully at Pearl and then Shea, silently asking for their help to calm Trixie down. She didn’t want them to let Trixie freak out all over again. Shea, thankfully, answered her call and kneeled down next to their friend again.

  “No, no,” Trixie whispered, her voice trembling, “Do you know how long we’ll last without food or water? Because it’s not very long. The average person can go three weeks without food and three days without water. Then you just… die.”

  Shea grabbed Trixie’s face in both her hands and forced her to look her in the eyes, “Hey, we are not going down without a fight, Trixie. We will find a way out of here, or die trying. Okay?”

  Trixie nodded, “Okay… okay.” 

  Shea’s words weren’t much, but they seemed to reassure her, which was all any of them could ask for. In a way, Kim was also comforted by them, even though Trixie’s human survival facts were terrifying. They didn’t have food or water, and even if they did get out of here, how far would they have to travel to find it? 

  Pearl frowned and kicked a rock across the cramped space, “Well, we can’t see shit right now. How do we get out of here in total darkness?” 

  “Wait for the sun to come up, I guess,” Kim said, trying not to think about how many hours that could be from now. She didn’t even know if the sun would be able to reach through the rubble.

  Shea pursed her lips thoughtfully, “Or…”

  Trixie rose on shaky legs, then looked at Shea inquisitively, “Or…?”

  “Our phones,” Shea grinned at the three of them.

  Pearl perked up, “Oh shit! That’s right!”

  Kim frowned and looked around nervously, “When was the last time we even had our phones?” 

  “I know they’re around here somewhere,” Pearl muttered as she started examining the grounds around them. Their only source of light was what was streaming in through holes in the rubble above them and the mangled street lamp.

  Trixie looked over at Kim, “My phone was last in my purse, I think.”

  Kim nodded and reached over to grab Trixie’s purse, she was just barely able to reach it but she did. She searched through the pockets and pulled out her friend’s phone with triumph, finally feeling like the four of them were getting somewhere. Grinning like a kid in a candy shop, Kim unlocked Trixie’s phone and turned on the flashlight feature. She aimed the beam of light above them and nearly dropped the device.

  The ceiling above them was made of a concrete beam that fell at an angle and disappeared somewhere into another wall of rubble. There were pieces of buildings, earth, and electrical wires filling up the rest, with only a few holes leading to the city above that allowed in soft light. Kim could hardly breathe looking at it all. They had no clue how deep the debris field was or if it would just come tumbling down on top of them all. 

  Shea gasped, “Holy shit.”

  Pearl, seemingly entranced by the new view, wrapped her arms around herself, “You could say that again.”

  Trixie’s eyes darted between her friends, “W-What do we do?”

  Shea cocked her hands on her hips and grimaced at the trash canopy barely a couple of feet above them, “I guess we either dig or we die.”

  “And if it falls on us?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I would much rather be buried alive than die of dehydration,” Shea said with a coldness in her eyes Kim hadn’t seen before, “At least it means we tried.” 

  Kim leaned her head back against the dirt, “Not that I’m arguing with you or anything but… Dig with what shovel?”

  Pearl chuckled darkly, held up her hands, and shook them, displaying her long talons, “We got these for a reason.”

  Trixie groaned and crossed her arms over her chest, pointing her chin to the sky, “This is going to fucking suck, isn’t it?”

  Shea rolled her eyes and walked over to the concrete beam, “Our city has been flattened like a pancake, Trixie. Suck is an understatement.” 

  “Thank you, News Anchor Shea Coulee for Chicago 19,” Trixie snarked.

  They continued to bicker, but Kim tuned them out. She needed to stand up and help, she refused to lay there while everyone else figured out an escape plan from this new and fresh hell. Kim slowly pulled herself to her feet and used the dirt pile around them as a crutch while Shea and Trixie were distracted with each other and Pearl was examining the lid on their cage. 

  It was excruciating pain, but Kim fought it. She would not be just another reminder of everything that had gone wrong- not if she had anything to say about it. She made it to her feet even with the intense pain in her leg. She could do this, regardless of what the others might have said. They needed her, Kim needed them, and she would prove her strength no matter what.

  Pearl shot Kim an unimpressed look, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  “Digging,” Kim said without hesitation. 

  She reached up and pulled on what seemed to be a loose brick. It came down easily, a small stream of concrete and dust came down with it. The four peaked through the new hole it left but were all disappointed to find they still didn’t have a clear path to the surface. 

  Shea grabbed another chunk of building and looked at her friends, “Let’s tear this bitch down.”

  Then she pulled.

                                                                           ~*~

  The Night Chicago Fell

Las Vegas, N.V.

  Naomi stood in front of the small TV in the Hub and bit her lip, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen. It was horrific. The Chicago broadcasts had only ended an hour ago, and all the big-name news crews in New York were trying to diminish the tragedy as much as they could. Her heart weighed heavy in her chest, as she was unable to stop thinking about the first city she watched fall nearly ten years ago.

  After five years of being with the Resistance, Naomi had learned to stomach massive losses like this. Sometimes, though, she couldn’t help being taken back to the day that the world as she knew it ended. The Resistance gave her a purpose, a way to fight back and feel like she was doing something. Except for a few months before, the Rebellion in New York had contacted them and given her hope. They had learned that Chicago was the next target, but they had said there might be a way to stop it. Naomi had desperately clung to that ‘might.’ Clearly that was a mistake. 

  She glanced over at Derrick, who looked angrier than she had ever seen before. They were the only two left in the main room of the Resistance’s headquarters, which was a massive warehouse about fifteen miles outside of what used to be Las Vegas. Everyone else had disappeared from the Hub as soon as the Chicago broadcasts ended. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Listening to the news anchors made her sick. Either they didn’t care about losing Chicago or they were being paid to not care. Regardless, they were corrupt as shit. She hated it with a fucking passion. 

  Naomi nudged Derrick to get his attention, “Have you heard from the Rebellion at all?”

  Derrick shook his head, “No, but I can only imagine what they’re thinking right now.”

  “They had a plan,” Naomi whispered as another picture of a falling building flashed on the TV, “The Rebellion said they could stop this.”

  “It was a long shot,” Derrick said sympathetically.

  “I know, I know…” Naomi sighed and rubbed her face with her hand, “But, like, what’s the point?” 

  Derrick blinked in surprise, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean why bother fighting if we can’t stop this?” Naomi asked him tiredly. 

  They had all been fighting for so long, and their resources were running lower every day. They couldn’t do this forever. The Resistance had been active for eight years already, the Rebellion active for five, and yet they still hadn’t saved a single city from being torn to shreds by the Feds. Every day more suburbs turned into ghost towns, every day she waited for the tides to change, and every day she was left feeling more lost. 

  Naomi’s eyes filled with unshed tears, and Derrick took her hand and looked up at her, “Hey, we’re still here, aren’t we? As long as someone is here to fight, there’s a chance to win.”

  Naomi nodded and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, “Right. There’s still people to be saved, we just weren’t able to this time.”

  “Exactly, this time,” Derrick smiled at her, then he looked at the TV, “I don’t think we’re going to learn anything else by watching these people.”

  Naomi gave a dry chuckle, “What? You don’t wanna listen to federal puppets talk about how this was bound to happen sooner or later?” 

  “Not really,” Derrick said, shaking his head fondly, “Come on, let’s go find Roxy. Earlier she said something about contacting the Rebellion to see what their next move is.”

  “Hopefully they’ll have good news,” Naomi murmured, and she turned to follow Derrick out of the Hub.

  They walked up the metal staircase and up to the second level of the concrete warehouse. All of the smaller rooms were located on that floor, including bunkrooms, their makeshift kitchen, and even their communications room. Naomi spent more time in the communications room than anywhere else in the warehouse. She was always listening to their radios waiting to intercept a transmission, or watching their computer for a message from the Rebellion. She knew the others thought it was pointless, but she wanted to help people as much as she could. Otherwise, she was just spending her days wandering around a massive, cold building or going on fruitless supply runs. 

  This time though, the door to the communications room was left cracked open. Naomi shared a nervous look with Derrick, then peered through the crack and saw that at least Raja and Manila were in there. She held her finger up to her lips to signal Derrick to be quiet, then placed herself flush against the wall so she could listen to them without being seen. Derrick took the hint and did the same on the opposite side of the door.

  Naomi was grateful the door was cracked open, she wouldn’t be able to understand everyone in the room so clearly if it weren’t. She could immediately tell Raja was exhausted and that Manila was fed up. She was also able to hear someone else coming through the crackling radio set, someone much angrier than she had ever heard before. 

  “Look, I don’t care about what the tip was, Bianca, I need to know who gave it to you,” Raja said, sounding as if she had been repeating herself. 

  “And I’m telling you that I don’t fucking know who it was,” Bianca retorted, “That’s also not what’s important here.”

  Derrick’s eyes grew wide and Naomi knew exactly what he was thinking: How did they have such clear communication with someone in New York? 

  Manila scoffed, “It’s pretty fucking important. Was it just incorrect, or was it a mole?”

  “You aren’t listening to me!” Bianca practically growled, “Because Chicago is down, that means we only have a couple of major cities left to save before they start taking out minor cities and suburbs. Our timeline has been cut in half.”

  Manila gasped but didn’t say anything. Raja responded instead, “And we know this because of your tip? The same tip that just sabotaged your plans to save Chicago?”

  “We know this because it’s fucking math. Jesus Christ…” Bianca said; Naomi never knew one person could hold onto so much anger, “The tipper was anonymous, it was a rooftop exchange type of deal.”

  “Really?” Manila asked, genuinely surprised. 

  “NO, not really. Do you bitches just believe every goddamn thing you hear on TV? It was an electronic tip because we live in the twenty-first century you old hags.”

  Raja stood up and started pacing the room, and Naomi shrunk in on herself, hoping it would be enough to not get caught eavesdropping, “And there was absolutely no way to trace the source?” 

  “We tried, but tracking this guy could be classified as Medieval torture. It’s the same person who was right the last time, though. But we never find him, he always finds us.” 

  “Ugh, okay,” Raja sighed, “Well, thanks for all the help, you bitch.” 

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just remember that if Bob tries to contact you-”

  “Don’t tell her about the supply issue, right,” Raja said, cutting Bianca off, “Stay alive out there, okay?”

  “You too.”

  Naomi and Derrick didn’t wait any longer, they ran off down the hall towards the bunkers as fast as they could without seeming suspicious. They entered their assigned room, then Derrick shut and locked the door. Derrick turned to Naomi, looking distressed and pale as he leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. 

  “What… What did we just listen to?” he asked her, completely shocked. 

  Naomi pushed her hair back out of her face, “I-I don’t know.”

  “Bianca- The Rebellion- They’re in New York. I’m not crazy, right? They’re in New York?” 

  Naomi nodded, trying not to cry, “Yeah, yeah, New York. I was always told that-”

  “We don’t have direct communication with them,” Derrick finished for her, “Because we’re too far away.”

  “So… how?” Naomi asked, truly shocked, “Were we just fucking lied to this whole time?”

  “Maybe! Because I really don’t think it’s possible everything was fixed between this morning and now,” Derrick said, leaning against the door tiredly. 

  Naomi sobbed softly, “Oh God… And what about the ‘supply issue?’ Why doesn’t Bianca want her own people to know about it? Why has the radio communication with the Rebellion been hidden from us?”

  “I don’t know,” Derrick murmured, “I just don’t know.”

  Then someone knocked on the door and jiggled the handle, trying to get into the room. Derrick scrambled forward, Naomi grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the door. They stared at the handle, and Naomi’s heart was racing. What if it was Raja and Manila? Would they get thrown out for hearing all of that? Would they just be told more lies? 

  Farrah began whining from the other side, “Hey! Let me in! Who locked this damn thing?” 

  Naomi and Derrick let out a collective sigh of relief, and Naomi got up to unlock the door for her. Farrah stumbled into the room the second Naomi opened it, her blonde waves spilling over her shoulders and pink t-shirt hanging loose on her tiny frame. She looked up and frowned deeply at the two of them. 

  “What do you want?” Naomi said, quickly closing the door again.

  “Well, I thought since it was eleven o’clock at night I’d start getting ready for bed,” Farrah huffed, then she eyed the two of them suspiciously, “But if I’m interrupting something...”

  Naomi wrinkled her nose, “No! How many times do we have to say it?” 

  Derrick nodded in agreement, “We’re gay. We’re allowed to just be friends.” 

  Farrah rolled her eyes as she walked over to her bunk, “Sorry, sorry. Just thought it was weird to lock the door.”

  Naomi sighed, and sat down on her bed, trying to find a way to distract Farrah, “No, we were talking about something… secret…”

  “Ooooh! What kind of secret?” Farrah asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

  Judging by Derrick’s glare, her distraction didn’t work. He turned to Farrah with a fake smile, “Uh, it’s a birthday secret!” 

  Naomi perked up, “Yeah, for Raja!” 

  Farrah gasped excitedly, “That’s a great idea!” 

  “Yeah, but you gotta be quiet about it, okay?” Naomi said, hoping to get Farrah off of their trail. 

  “Of course,” Farrah said, nodding eagerly, “Oh, I can’t wait!” 

  Then she grabbed some of her things and went to the showers with her usual bubbly attitude. As soon as she was gone, Naomi glanced over at Derrick and gave him a cheeky smile, but he just rolled his eyes. She was relieved Farrah didn’t pry any further, but Naomi was still anxious about what she had heard just minutes earlier. If Raja or Manila knew she had listened in, both Derrick and herself would be done for. 

  They needed more information, that was a given. The problem was in getting said information. Considering how little they already knew, it was a tall order. But one question haunted Naomi… What else were their leaders hiding from them? 

                                                                        ~*~

  2 Days Later

Las Vegas, N.V.

  Naomi was certain that she and Derrick were in the clear since Raja and Manila had yet to say anything to them. She was honestly grateful for it, even though she was terrified of what that meant for the Resistance as a whole. As far as Naomi knew, no one else in the Resistance was aware of the conversation that their two leaders had had with Bianca. 

  Still, Naomi was avoiding the communications room. It was risky for her to keep hanging around there on the off-chance that the equipment had been rigged. She knew that it was suspicious of her to suddenly stop spending so much time in that room, but she would rather take her chances with that. No one had questioned her about it anyways, except for the funny looks that Roxy had been giving her. Naomi just ignored her.

  Derrick, on the other hand, was much harder to try and ignore. Every corner she turned he seemed to be standing there waiting for her. At a certain point, his behavior started to border on creepy. It came to a head when she was leaving their sad excuse of a kitchen with a cup of coffee, just to bump into him again and almost spill her drink all over both of them. 

  Naomi screamed for several seconds, but he slapped his hand over her mouth to shut her up.

  “It’s me!” Derrick said, looking around them to see if anyone had heard her.

  “Derrick!” Naomi hissed at him, glaring at him as she held her mug protectively to her chest, “What is wrong with you?” 

  Derrick grabbed her wrist and started pulling her down the long hallway, “Come on, you have to see this!”

  “Wha- Derrick- See what?” Naomi spluttered, right on his heels.

  “In the communications room,” he said, lowering his voice to not be heard across the entire floor, “There’s a new message.”

  Naomi’s heart stopped in her chest, “Are you serious?”

  “Why would I joke about that?” Derrick said, sounding confused and offended. 

  Before Naomi could react, they reached the small room and slipped inside, closing the door all the way behind them. The room didn’t seem to be tampered with, but Naomi didn’t trust appearances. She looked around the room and wrapped her arms around herself, then sat down in one of the chairs in front of the computer and set her mug of coffee to the side.

  Naomi sighed tiredly, “What did you want to show me?”

  Derrick leaned over the desk and pulled up two messages that had been sent by the Rebellion. One was marked as received one hour ago, and the other was marked as received five hours ago. Naomi knew it was the Rebellion because they always marked their messages “R.B.”

  The most recent one read, “We think she left. Second I.C. will be headed your way tomorrow. It’s a ten-day trip. See you soon. -R.B.” 

  And the other said, “First I.C. has gone M.I.A. Let us know if you’ve heard anything. -R.B.” 

  Naomi felt like she couldn’t breathe she was so panicked, “Derrick, what does this mean?”

  “It takes us about twelve hours to receive a transmission from the Rebellion-”

  “Yeah, I know!”

  Derrick looked her dead in the eyes, “Naomi, think about it. This is a time-sensitive issue. Their ‘first in command’ -aka Bianca- has gone missing. But they don’t have to use the slow method to contact us, hypothetically they could’ve just radioed in like Bianca did the other night and immediately received help.”

  Naomi laid her head in her hands, “They don’t know about the instant radio communication. Just like us.”

  “They are just as much in the dark as we are- were,” Derrick said, glaring at the computer screen, “And now their second in command is coming to us.”

  “They don’t know anything! Whoever is being sent here knows nothing, and is just going to be another person for Raja and Manila to lie to-”

  “Hey!” Derrick said, taking Naomi’s hand in his own, “Look at me.”

  She did. He looked as petrified as she felt; he was trembling and his eyes were wide. Not very comforting. 

  “What do we do?” Naomi asked him quietly. 

  “I don’t know, but we can’t keep assuming the worst. There could be a completely sane explanation for this…” Derrick said with a shrug, although he didn’t seem very convinced of what he was saying. 

  Naomi stared at the messages on the screen in front of her. One of the leaders of the Rebellion would arrive in a week and a half, which meant she had a week and a half to answer her questions. If she was able to come up with a solid theory, then maybe this leader would listen to her. Maybe they could confront Raja and Manila together. 

  It was a long shot, Naomi knew that, but it was something. She had to get the answers to her questions, she had to show this leader her evidence, and she had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe for her or Derrick in the Rebellion anymore, not when they knew so much more than they were ever supposed to. If she could get the leader from the Rebellion to listen to her then maybe they would have a chance to escape without revealing their knowledge to Raja and Manila. Those two were ruthless when they were angry.

  She had to do this. She could do this. With a newfound conviction, Naomi turned back to Derrick. They could do this. 

#rpdr fanfiction #s8 #kim chi #naomi smalls #trixie mattel #pearl liaison #shea coulee #derrick barry #raja gemini #gen fic #derrick & naomi #lesbian au #post apocalypse au #angst #dark fic #hurt/comfort #will you make me believe #candy cane #tw violence #tw dark imagery #concrit welcome

[mightbewriting]

a r o u n d  m y  n e c k

at this point there’s a whole discord server dedicated to wheel of doom chaos. i’m just along for the ride, writing ridiculous things when i can’t bear to do my real work anymore. this prompt: marriage law x blaise/ginny. enjoy!

“What do you like?”

“I don’t think that matters very much.”

Blaise stiffened, watching the scowling witch across from him. She hadn’t even fully entered the room, clutching a robe tight around her middle and still hovering at the threshold to the bathrooms where she just spent the last forty-five minutes doing who-the-fuck-knows while Blaise lounged on a settee. Pointedly, he opted not to lounge on the bed.

They may not have had a say in this marriage and its forthcoming consummation, but he was gentlemen enough to not want to make it anymore awkward than it already was.

But time was ticking and their wedding day would soon slip into the next, and if they didn’t do the deed before then, consequences would be had. Criminal records drawn up. Eventualities Blaise had zero interest in. 

He’d long since resigned himself to the ironclad terms of this Marriage Law that had inexplicably paired him with Ginevra Weasley, angry women, presently glaring at him. In other circumstances, that look would have had him half-hard in barely a blink. Strike that, it had him half-hard in current circumstances anyway.

“If we have to do this, we might as well do it right,” he said, standing from the settee. He ran a hand down the front of his dark formal robes, smoothing any creases. 

“Doing it right has no bearing on what we like. Right means penetration and completion. For you only, according to the law.” 

“Well that’s not going to happen,” Blaise returned her tight tone with a snap of his own.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not coming if you don’t.”

Her mouth dropped open. It rankled with annoyance, with a stab at Blaise’s pride. Frankly, he was mortally offended any woman would think he planned to get off without her, fucked up Marriage Law dictating the actual act, or not. 

“How about this, I’ll start.” He shrugged off his formal outer robes and took a caution step towards the four poster bed drenched in charms meant to measure and weigh their participation in this farce. He leaned against it. “I like it best a little rough—and before you start practicing your shield charms, I mean you. Rough with me. I love a woman on top. Pin me down, use your teeth. Put those pretty little hands around my neck. I suspect you’ve got a little aggression to work out tonight anyway. I absolutely welcome it.”

Ginny scoffed, disbelieve drawn up in her tight shoulders.

“Don’t believe me? I did make a lot of vows to you this afternoon, honesty among them. I won’t stand here and pretend I’m not physically very interested in you. This needn’t be a fruitless endeavor. Boss me around, exercise all that red-headed aggravation you’ve got simmering. And if you so happen to get off to me suffocating between your thighs, I think we’ll both be fine with that.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m very much not joking.”

She rolled her eyes and finally—finally—entered the bedchamber with him. “No? Fine. Get on the  bed.”

Blaise indulged in a challenge just long enough to lift a brow at his new bride. Half-hard had long since passed. He was starting to ache, cock straining against the inside of his trousers. 

“On my knees, or…?”

She took three solid steps towards him. “Flat on your back. Why don’t you strip while you’re at it.”

“Gladly.”

He savored the buttons on his dress shirt, mother-of-pearl buttons through silk button holes. Dropping his shirt to the floor, he unbuckled his belt, pulling Italian leather through lightweight wool beltloops. Another button, lowered zip, and his trousers slid to his ankles. 

He made sure to hold Ginny’s gaze as he lowered his silken boxers too, daring her to break eye contact to examine him. She wanted him stripped; he obeyed.

He settled onto the bed, flat on his back as she asked. It meant he didn’t have to face his own aching hardon, already leaking against his stomach. 

Moments later, she appeared in his periphery, robe no longer held so tightly closed. 

“You want me to choke you?” she asked.

“Only if you want to.”

“If I wanted to scratch?”

“Ideal, honestly.”

She lifted a knee, pale and freckled, poking out from her robe, and settled it on the mattress beside him. The next second, she lifted herself up on both knees, fully committed. Blaise barely breathed.

She dragged in a deep inhale and when she released it, her face was all determination. The same face she wore in Quidditch matches, in Ministry Bonding Ceremonies, in the marriage bed, apparently. 

Perhaps more boldly than he’d earned, Blaise lifted a hand, hovering his fingers by the tie to her robe. “May I?” he asked, daring to meet her eyes. 

She nodded; he pulled.

The silk robe slid from her shoulders, revealing an endless expanse of creamy, freckled skin Blaise decided then and there he would gladly drown in. He might have been forced to marry a perfect stranger, but fuck is she wasn’t fit. 

“It’s your turn, now that I’ve shared,” he said. “What do you like?” He needed to know.

Ginny’s palms pressed flat into her thighs, pulsled there, before she dragged one up her stomach, finding a nipple. She rolled it between her fingers and made an utterly depraved keening sound that shot straight to Blaise’s cock. 

“I like being watched,” she breathed. “I like being on top. Being worshipped.”

“Excellent. Good. Let’s start now. Because your tits.”

Better than the best case scenario, she reached out and wrapped a hand around his aching cock. “I like orgasm denial. So if you really meant what you said about not coming unless I do—“

“I have been nothing but honest tonight.”

“Then this—it might work out alright.” She twisted her palm over the head, gave him a solid squeeze, and gathered his dripping precum before sliding her fist back down to the base. 

“Fuck me, Ginevra.”

Her quiet chuckle was the first sign of amusement he’d heard from her all evening. “I think I just might.”

#blinny #fanfiction #blaise x ginny #blaise zabini #ginny weasley

[whorror-barbie]

Horrible boss(AU! boss salesman x Accountant! fem reader) part 2

Summary: you introduced yourself to the new boss.

Warning: profanity, maybe sexual tension? I guess that's a warning lol

Everyone around started talking amongst themselves. feminine whispers of the women already melting for the new guy "It is that asshole" Gi-Hun agreed. "Asshole? What's going on? " Jun-Ho asked looking confused. "Eh, it's not that important, we had already met him, well kinda" you explained to him. " He's the pervert that touched her ass" Jun-Ho clenching his jaw, he didn't like that, "he said it was an accident, ok " you try to calm this conversation. "Bullshit" Gi-Hun chuckles. "He did apologize politely, that's all I can ask for really, so let's just drop it, hm?" Giving a slightly stern look at Gi-Hun then he sighs in defeat.

"We are going to be celebrating my leave and my proud son's welcoming tonight" turning to look at his son " do you have words you want to share with everyone?" Seok turned to the office" I am so happy to be here, I definitely work hard to get here and to gain my dad's trust in the company, so with that being said, I hope we call get along and create great memories together" he smiles and gives a slight bow. the room is filled with clapping, Il-Nam patting his son on the back.

"What a fucking doorknob" Gi-Hun said which made you laugh. He's so attractive though even getting you flustered a little bit.,not too many men can do that to you. "Try not to fuck him, ok "jun-ho joked looking at you. Acting offended as if you were clutching your invisible pearl necklace "says the guy with ho in his name" the guys laugh " what is with y'all coming for this morning" you say through a chuckle.

"Here comes the most toxic couple in the office "you rolled your eyes, seeing Deok-Su and Mi-Nyeo walking by late as ever, going to the break room, not giving a fuck about this. " I heard he owes money to some dangerous loan sharks" Gi-Hun whispers to you. "Mm, I wouldn't be surprised at all by that." With your arms raised as you stretch.

"so, let's go meet him, shall we? "You look at Gi-Hun "Nah, I'm probably going sit at my desk" sounding uninterested, you giggle in response then face Jun-Ho." yeah, me too, I got so much catching up to do" shrugging your shoulders " I guess I'll introduce myself to him then". "Just make sure he keeps his hands to himself this time" looking at your very protective friend. " Ok, I will, dad" joking, then walking up to the front.

"oh, there she is " Il-Nam gives you a warming hug then cradles your face in his hands. You smile at him with a tear threatening to fall. " How are you doing, old man?". " I'm doing great, hun no need to worry" wipping your tears away. Seok-Woo's attention is on you now even though he was surrounded by four women. "Hey, this is my lovely accountant, and will be yours soon," Il-Nam said, you bow to Seok-Woo, he smirks at your form then he holds out his hand for a shake,You place your hand in his. Your body temperature is starting to raise "it's nice to meet you, I hope we get better acquainted," he said with a charming smirk, looking into your eyes. You feel the heat from your face, but you snapped out of it when you realize the four women mean-mugging you. " I should probably get going on crunching those numbers, see you later and bye Il-Nam" walking away. Seok-Woo looking at your body on the sly.

After a while, you do a little stretch at your desk, then you go into the break room to finally eat your lunch, joining Ali and Eun-Yi. "Oh, what a long day, I want to go home." You say with a sigh to them " Yeah, I feel that" she chuckles drinking her water" do you guys want to trade some food with me? " Ali asked you two " sure, whatcha got? " You leaning in on him as you figure out what you guys wanted to exchange" I love your cooking, it's amazing, "he said as he Chow down. "Well, thank you, that's so sweet of you. I try my best" you smile at him" by the way, We should go to a karaoke bar after the party tonight" Ali agrees, nods very excitedly with a mouthful of food " careful, Ali Jesus.. you're going to choke" Eun-Yi said with a small chuckle.

The break room door opens, hearing a woman flirty giggling with Seok-woo, she must be giving him a tour, and you roll your eyes. " Have you met him yet? " Eun-Yi asked, " yeah, seems very nice so far...he's very hot too." Sipping on your water, you had to address the elephant in the room. "Well, boom you said it, I agree though" she laughs and Ali just looks at you two like he shouldn't be here '' don't worry, Ali I won't say more " you smile at him, then he returns a smile back, laughing awkwardly.

"Almost done, I should get back to my desk " you look up at the clock. "I'll see y'all at the party." you get up from the chair. "Can we meet at your place though? We should go together to the party" Ali asked, Yi looks at you waiting for your answer " of course, we can do that, see you then" you make your way across the room, you recognize that Seok-woo and the female co-worker is near the door and you feel the butterflies. damn, why me? in thought, you try to pass by quickly ,it's too late. he's staring at you with no shame, one eyebrow raised. You make out of the door fast as possible and finally, taking breaths that you didn't know you were holding in. This party is going to be great as long as I don't make an ass of myself to the new boss. Everything should be alright. "You thought.

#salesman x reader #salesman x y/n #gong yoo #salesman imagines #salesman x you #squid games fanfic #squid game smut

[dr3amofagame]

hey pspsps i found this thing n twitter and i cant get it out of my head,, so dreams escape right? and sapnap said that he'd be the one who'd take dreams last life rgiht? so imagine if he gets ant, bad and george and tells them "its the final manhunt" (:

im ngl the name of this on my document was “the final manhunt *offkey kazoo*” 

with that, have some good ol’ post-prison c!dream angst! probably not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway :D 

tw: implied torture, abuse, dark portrayals of c!sam and c!quackity, suicide/suicide implications, panic attacks, emotional distress, emotional instability, death threats, violence, flashbacks, pandora’s vault/prison arc

When Dream escapes the prison, he is a frothing thing of spite and rage, one part human and ninety-nine parts determination simmered and condensed over high heat; there is anger and then there’s this, the fire that leaps to his eyes and the shaking shreds of a battered heart he holds close to his chest and refuses to let anyone close enough to see. He moves and the server moves with him, tugged along by his iron will and sweat-slick desperation, joining in the brilliant blue whirl of a diamond axe swung recklessly and slammed into the dirt, an aimless fury following each formless drive of the blade into grass and gravel. The air sings danger and the air sings wrong and every step closer brings a ringing scream of away away go away that dances like static electricity against their skin.

Puffy follows, cutlass strapped to her hip and hair tucked messily beneath the rim of her cornet as the group advances - someone had alerted over comms about seeing the escaped prisoner in this direction, and they’d all jumped forward in the hopes that the weeks-long manhunt could finally be ended. Sapnap leads the way, headband whipping behind him as he strides forward, jaw clenched in fierce determination; George brings up the rear, bow in hand, a full quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Puffy’s running alongside Sam, who has been strangely tight-lipped the entire time Dream has been gone, firm in his insistence that the prisoner be detained but saying little else - it’s something that she would pry at, usually, but her head is filled with half-formed regrets and fears and a bubbling undercurrent of anger she’s afraid will come loose if she opens her mouth, so she stays silent as they run ever forward.

Sapnap yells, and her head snaps up - there, in the tall grass of a plains biome lies a flash of orange that must be Dream. The hunters around her speed up and she strains to follow; the other three are clearly experienced, easily falling into step with each other as she scrambles to keep up. Dream’s head snaps over towards them and he begins to sprint, cutting a line through the yellow field as they race to follow. She’s not seen him since the prison break, has only heard the whispers- an orange clothed monster, all bones and skin and uncaged fury, a diamond axe heaved in his arms slamming against anything that comes too close. It’s hard to rationalize this untamed, unrefined dash to the unwavering calm that she had always associated with his style of fighting, his movements much more like the life-or-death escape of a hunted rabbit than any hunter’s dog. It’s hard to rationalize this Dream with the one she knows- but well, she’s gotten used to that.

It took her far too long to admit, but she’s come to realize that she doesn’t quite know Dream at all.

He leads them forward to the shorter grass and harsher dips and planes of a savannah, the sun beating down in slanting heat against the backs of their necks. The ground they’re standing on begins to shatter into steep cliffs and jagged mountains, rough edges of stone climbing into the sky all around them. Sapnap curses, shading his eyes against the sun.

“He’s going up there,” he says, and George sends arrows flying towards the orange dot blurring across the steep face of a nearby mountain. Sam grumbles as Puffy strains to catch sight of him, watching his scrambling movements up the cliff face to the top.

“Then we follow,” he says, pulling a stack of ender pearls from his inventory. “Each person take a few. We’re too close to lose him now.”

The climb is anything but pleasant, the sun right overhead and making sweat gather at her hairline and drip down her face. Even as a sheep hybrid, she struggles to keep pace with the other hunters as they race over thin paths of granite and clamber up near-vertical faces of stone with little problem, clearly practiced as they follow Dream without breaking their sprint. The rock gives way to dirt and tufts of short-shorn grass and Sapnap’s eyes flash.

“Be careful,” he says, looking straight at her. “He’s cornered - that’s when he does risky shit without thinking about the consequences. He knows you’re the least experienced here and there’s a good chance that he’s going to charge you. If that happens, hold your shield and just block. We’ll handle him from there.”

She swallows back the spark of indignation that rises at his words, a bitter scream that they only see her as a liability dying out as she reminds herself that these three had hunted Dream professionally before, had struggled even with two more at their sides. The caution is far from unwarranted.

“I understand.”

Sapnap nods tersely and looks to the other two with a hand movement that she doesn’t understand. The other two immediately start moving, Sam moving to the front, George nocking an arrow as he takes his place at the rear - they’re still shielding her, she realizes with a small spike of annoyance again, shaking her head and drawing her own cutlass as Sapnap leads the way for them to swing up onto the top of the mountain.

It takes her a moment to adjust; the wind, unhindered by the cliffs that had been shielding them seconds before, whips at her face and draws tears to her eyes, makes her hair fly wildly into her face. Through narrowed eyes, she watches as the figure on the other side of the mountaintop scrambles backwards, diamond axe braced in front of him as he backs to the opposite edge.

“Dream,” Sapnap calls, voice deadly calm. “You’re cornered. Stand down.”

Dream shakes his head, lips curling in a wordless snarl. The sound is desperate, almost inhuman, making Puffy’s hair stand on end. As her vision clears, she stops dead in her tracks despite herself - Dream looks awful. She’d expected him to look disheveled after his escape, hadn’t expected much comfort in his stay in the Vault, but the way he looks, now, hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks and skinny, shaking limbs that only barely seem to be able to hold up his weight, bandages covering every visible inch of skin, wrapped messily around his right arm as if done by one hand - she reaches forward unconsciously and Dream flinches back.

“Don’t-” his voice rasps, cracks, falls in on itself as he wets his lips to try and speak again. “Don’t come closer.”

“Prisoner,” Sam growls, stepping forward, and he turns those wild, fever-bright eyes towards the creeper hybrid, flailing backwards and knuckles white from the grip on his axe. His breathing visibly hitches, head whipping back and forth.

“Don’t come closer,” he hisses again, stepping back, and Puffy stills.

“Sam-” she grabs his sleeve. “Sam- don’t. He’s at the edge.”

Dream’s gaze swings to her, and her heart stutters at the uncaged, obvious fear raging in his eyes. He’s backed to the very back edge of the mountain they’re standing on, left foot halfway off, sending dirt skidding over and off of the cliff down down down to the ground hundreds of feet below. The three hunters stop, muscles tensed, and Dream bares his teeth at them but doesn’t back away further.

His shoulders sag as they stand, stagnant, each huddled on their own side of the mountaintop. His gaze is venomous, green eyes burning even in the glaring light of the sun, flicking warily between their faces as he holds the axe between them.

“So you came,” his voice is tight, a slight tremble pulling at the end despite his seeming bravado. “Here to finish the job, huh?”

Sapnap pulls back his shoulders. “I made a promise, Dream.”

Dream laughs, bitter. His left hand releases on the axe handle to come to his chest, grabbing at his right, looking almost like he’s trying to hold himself. His laughter tapers off into something weak and wrecked, and the sound makes Puffy’s heart clench uncomfortably in her chest.

“Figures you’d keep that one,” his head tips up, looking Sapnap in the eye. “What- did your fiance give up? The revive book not worth the effort anymore?”

Sapnap hisses. “Don’t bring Karl into this-”

“Karl?” Dream’s eyes flash, grip tightening on his upper arm. “No- what? Why-”

“Dream.” Sam’s voice is low, something dark buzzing behind his tone, “Don’t-”

Puffy interrupts him with a hand to his shoulder, stepping forward and freezing mid-step when Dream’s head whips to her, eyes widening and foot scraping against the edge of the cliff again.

“Sapnap, Sam, let him talk,” she levels her gaze at Dream, trying to pick out the emotions warring behind those brilliant green eyes. “Not Karl- you’re talking about Quackity then, right?”

Sam hisses, “Puffy, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

Dream laughs.

The sound is grating, awful, making her hands come to her ears. It rips through skin, wraps around bone, seeps into marrow - he’s laughing, axe disappearing into his inventory so he can clutch his face with both hands, the loose sleeves of his prison uniform falling to his elbows to reveal the bandages wrapping all the way up his forearms and disappearing further under the fabric. In front of her, Sapnap falters, grip on his sword loosening; George steps back, eyebrows wrinkled, bow lowering. Dream laughs like the world is ending, and some cold, hardened thing in her chest shatters at the sound.

“You know,” his hands claw at his hair, wrapping around the strands and pulling, “You know you know you know- you have to know. How-” He shakes his head, tugging at his hair harshly and making Puffy wince at the sight, “Don’t- don’t play stupid here.”

“Know what?” George reaches forward, hands empty, palms up like he’s approaching an injured dog. From the way Dream snaps at the sound, hackles raised and teeth bared, he might as well be one. “Dream, what are you talking about?”

Sapnap looks stricken, still, face clouded in a way that Puffy can’t decipher. “Q- don’t play your mind games here, Dream,” despite his words, he sounds uncertain. Puffy hasn’t seen Quackity around for a while, had thought that he was staying at Sapnap and Karl’s new place. From the way Sapnap’s eyes have darkened, it looks like she assumed wrong. “Quackity hasn’t even been around, what does he have to do with any of this?”

Dream shakes his head again, seemingly stuck in his own head, barely even responding to their words. “You know- you know you know you know- Sam knows- you-” His breath hitches, chest heaving, and Puffy blinks. He’s having a panic attack, a clinical, much more calm part of her says as Dream seems to collapse in on himself. “You know. You have to know he wouldn’t- nobody came if you didn’t know then why didn’t you come if you didn’t know then why did Sam let him in you know you know you know-”

“Sam?” George turns to Sam, hands curling into fists and then uncurling again and again, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Sam’s expression is unreadable, ignoring George as he looks back at Dream. “Prisoner,” and has he called him by his name, yet? “Come with us calmly and your punishment will be lightened. There’s nowhere to run. Give up.”

Dream keens, a high-pitched whine exiting his lungs, “I won’t- I won’t tell,” his voice cracks, tears clearly running down his cheeks, “I won’t tell you Quackity I won’t-”

“Sam,” Puffy turns to the hybrid. “I think you should go.”

“Puffy-”

“He’s having a panic attack, Sam. He’s hardly going to do anything.” She levels a glare at him, sheathing her cutlass at her side. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, and I’ve promised to help anyone having a mental health crisis on the server.” Something dark and traitorous whispers how she’d given up on Dream before, and she pushes it down.

“He’s a danger to everyone on the server.”

“Sam- he’s not fucking breathing right now on the edge of a cliff. He’s not a danger to anyone but himself.”

“She’s right, Sam,” Puffy’s head snaps to George. He’s looking at her, expression hidden behind his glasses, lips pressed together in a small frown. “Puffy, we’ll be waiting. You or Sapnap call if you need back-up.”

She nods tersely, watches as Sam gives in and follows George down the mountain, the hybrid’s red eyes still staring at Dream as he leaves. Sapnap seems distracted, hardly acknowledging their exchange with his eyes fixed on Dream’s crumpled form, emotions clearly warring over his face, and Puffy brushes past him to get to her patient- Dream.

“Dream,” she speaks, not moving forward when his shoulders seize. “Dream, I won’t move closer unless you want me to,” she enunciates the words clearly, watching his face for any flash of recognition or understanding. He shakes his head minutely at her words, arms trembling, but he doesn’t move closer to the edge. “Can you hear me?”

He nods jerkily, and she smooths the palms of her hands on her pants, trying to calm the race of her heart in her chest.

“Good, very good,” years of training, habit, flood her head, pushing away the buzzing unease and fear and tangled knot of dark feelings that linger every time she sees Dream’s face, “I need you to breathe for me, okay? We’re going to inhale for four- there you go,” she counts, watching the shuddering movement of his chest as he struggles to replicate her movements, “Very good, hold for four, there you go- you’ve got this-”

Slowly, painfully, the rattle of his lungs in his chest becomes something quieter, more manageable, no longer rising and falling in desperate arrhythmic wheezes that make her chest hurt in sympathy. She’s still kneeling there, hands palms-up when he looks up at her, eyes wide, a degree of lucidity having returned to them, and for a moment a flash of fear stabs through her heart.

She swallows it down, pulling forward every ounce of professionalism she can muster. “Dream,” she keeps her voice low and soft, biting her lip at the way he freezes, again, at the call of his name. “Dream, can you step away from the edge?”

His hands clutch at the line of grass and dirt that make up the sod overhang, knuckles white. His eyes keep staring in hers, wide and wet and green, and she shushes him softly under her breath.

“It’s ok, take your time,” she breathes, watching as his hand inches forward bit by bit, gaze still fixed on her face, “It’s okay, Duckling.”

She blinks, and there’s a whirl of orange flying towards her chest; Sapnap shouts behind her, and panic blooms in her head too quickly for her to pick out anything but a desperate little oh god I’m going to die-

The blow never comes.

Instead, she looks down, heart in her throat, at a sobbing, shaking lump pressed against her chest, head buried in the crook over her neck as dirty, tangled hair falls in waves over her shoulder. She freezes, watching as his shoulders shake, hands tangled in her shirt sleeve, barely able to hear the words he’s saying over his wails and her heart thudding in her ears.

“Please don’t bring me back,” he pleads, voice cracking, “Please- please I don’t wanna go back please tell Sapnap to make it quick please I can’t go through another Quackity visit please Puffy don’t let them send me back-”

“Dream-”

“I’ll- I won’t fight, I pr’mise, Sapnap can keep his promise it’s okay I won’t fight anymore I’m-” he keens, high-pitched and mangled, into her shoulder, “I’m so tired Puffy.”

“Duckling,”

“Don’ make me go back, please.”

Puffy pulls him back, presses her hand on his cheek, murmuring softly. And- maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, maybe Dream’s a danger just like Sam said, maybe she’ll come to regret helping him the same way she had before - but right now he’s in pain and he’s crying and he’s closer than he’s been in so, so long and all she can see is her duckling, hurting, her duckling, home.

“Dream,” she brushes her thumb against his cheek, smooths a lock of hair behind his ear. “What happened in there?”

And he begins to speak.

#tw torture #tw abuse #c!quackity critical #c!sam critical #not really for either but they are portrayed dark #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts #tw panic attack #tw emotional distress #tw emotional instability #tw death threats #tw violence #tw flashbacks #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

[captainsolare]

All Things Come to an End

A/N: This is my collab piece for @quirkyseastone 's milestone event!

Enemies to Lovers + Fairy Tale AU + Bakugo

Synopsis: When it is time for the heir to the throne to seek a spouse, one champion a month is chosen to go through a series of challenges. Bakugo is the first champion from his village to be chosen in several years and he will do anything to win. You, the heir to the throne, are terrified of change, and will do anything to keep it from happening.

Word Count: ~3.5k

The buzz of the hall came to an abrupt halt as he came onto the stage; Yagi Toshinori, the previous champion had at long last come to pick from their village.

“Hello, citizens of Eikka! As you know, the royal family is still looking for a worthy partner for the heir. Many of you are gathered here today for a chance to join the family, whether that be for social reasons, for wealth, or just to prove you can. Regardless, only one of you has been chosen.”

“This month’s champion, from the village of Eikka is…”

Amidst the anticipation of the announcement Bakugo balled his fists, hoping no one would take notice of the way his nails dug into the soft flesh of his palms. His eyes darted from person to person, heart racing as they waited.

“Katsuki Bakugo!”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, had he heard right? Was it actually him? Arms shoved him towards the stage and he stumbled up the stairs. The lights were blinding, he’d waited for this moment for so long, and now it had finally arrived.

“Bakugo, what are you hoping to achieve this month? Not just for yourself but for your village?” Yagi asked, eyes fixated on the young man.

Bakugo blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright spotlights.

“Honestly, I just want to win. I will give this village the honor of having its champion become the first in its history to become a part of the royal family.”

Yagi smiled, nodding at his answer. He then grabbed Bakugo’s arm, thrusting it up towards the sky,

“Citizens, your champion!”

-

You sat leaned back in your chair, feet on the desk as you read the file you were given. You sighed, giving an incredulous look to your first knight, Keigo,

“This is this month’s champion? How boring.” You tossed the file onto the desk with the others from the previous months, “He’ll probably give up within the first week.”

Keigo tutted, “Now now Y/N, I would give him more credit than that. He is ranked number one in his village in all the important areas.”

You scoffed, “Except in diplomacy. How am I supposed to lead beside someone who can’t negotiate his way out of a paper bag without ripping it?”

The corners of Keigo’s mouth twitched, “I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.”

-

Bakugo walked home, chest puffed out and heart soaring. Midoriya, his childhood friend and rival, walked with him, a much shyer figure compared to the newly chosen champion.

“I always knew you could do it.” Midoriya said, eyes sparkling.

Bakugo laughed, “Of course! I always knew I was worthy, now’s my chance to prove it.”

Midoriya paused, shoulders tense, “Aren’t you afraid you might die? The last champion didn’t come home.”

Bakugo stopped in his tracks, causing his friend to nearly stumble.

“Why would I be afraid of a silly thing like death? I’m way too good to die.”

Midoriya straightened, extending a finger and poking him in the chest, hard.

“You better not. I’ll never forgive you if you do.”

-

Bakugo stood at the edge of the forest, heart pounding as he prepared to set off on his journey. This would be it, the fruits of his labor, everything he had been working towards would be decided this month. Everyone in the village had come to see him off, but he had shooed them away, telling them he needed his concentration. Even though it appeared they had left, it still felt as though there were eyes watching him, studying his every move, waiting for him to fail.

He walked, careful to move as silently as possible; oftentimes champions were ambushed in the forests outside their towns, usually by a nameless jealous person who was afraid of their dreams of wealth and fortune being dashed. There was a large crack of wood, and Bakugo spun around, knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“There’s no need for all that, it’s only an old man.”

Bakugo studied the figure before him, it did appear to be an old man, harmless enough, but there was no telling if he had allies in the woods, waiting, watching.

The man laughed, a gravelly sound that grated in Bakugo’s ears. “I brought you an amulet.” As if sensing his inevitable protest, the man continued,

“You may not think you need it, but every little bit of protection helps doesn’t it?”

Bakugo frowned, head cocked to the side as he studied the situation, worst case, he could die, but then again he had a real possibility of doing so in the challenges, or best case, the amulet really would protect him.

He took the amulet from the man’s outstretched hand and put it in his pocket.

“I can’t promise that I’ll wear it, but thank you.”

Bakugo turned on his heel, knife still clutched tightly in his palm, and set off on his journey.

-

“Lame!” You threw a piece of popcorn at the crystal ball you were watching Bakugo through. “You can’t just take the amulet, you have to at least say no first.”

You looked at the papers on your desk, the final preparations for your challenges were made, all it needed was your signature and everything would be complete.

Stealing a glance at the crystal ball showing his progress you smiled, “Ah, I can’t wait to crush another one.”

-

The path to the castle was steep and winding and Bakugo’s legs were aching by the time he reached the gate. A pair of trumpets announced him and the gate opened to reveal you standing there, your first knight just behind your shoulder.

“Greetings champion, I am the royal heir, Y/N.”

Bakugo bowed his head and opened his mouth to introduce himself but you waved him off.

“I know who you are. Katsuki Bakugo, selfish man with an artificially inflated ego who thinks he is better than everyone else.”

His cheeks burned at your words but he held his tongue, there was no way for him to talk back here, you were royalty and despite appearances, Katsuki knew his place.

You smiled, “Congratulations, you just passed your first challenge.”

Katsuki’s head snapped up, “Really?”

Your smile immediately disappeared, “Of course not. You really think winning my hand would be that easy?”

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that he had fallen for such a petty trick.

Waving your hand in the air, you turned to walk away.

“This will be hell, I’ll make sure of it. Keigo will take you around the grounds and show you to your quarters. I expect you to come to me at 7 sharp in the morning.”

Keigo bowed as you walked away and you were quickly accompanied by several other attendants.

Keigo took a moment to look over Katsuki with his keen eyes, narrowing them, he cleared his throat.

“Y/N is really something, don’t you think?” He said, an almost daring tone in his voice.

Bakugo’s brows furrowed as he studied the older man, “Yeah, something.”

Keigo turned and set a quick pace, enough that Bakugo had to jog to keep up.

“Here are the training grounds, you can use them at your leisure though I can’t say how much good it’ll do you; for most of the challenges you aren’t allowed to use weapons. The castle gardens are that way, the heir can often be found reading there. There is the castle, obviously.”

Bakugo tried to take in as much information as he could in the short span he was given. Keigo led him inside and the pair walked up a long staircase. A simple door lay in front of them, wooden and unimpressive looking.

“Your quarters are here through that door, try to get rest when you can, you’ll need it.”

Keigo pointed down a hallway, “Down there is the tower. You’ll go there to meet with the heir to get your challenges. This is where I leave you, there is a kitchen stocked with food in your quarters, I presume you can make your own meals, yes?”

Bakugo nodded and Keigo nodded in affirmation.

“You shall meet the heir in the morning to receive your first challenge. Get some sleep.”

“Yes sir.”

-

The door to the tower stood large and intimidating; he knocked once and the door opened, revealing a long winding staircase. When he reached the top, he hesitated, thumbing at the amulet that lay under his clothes. This is stupid, how is an amulet going to help me?

The door opened to reveal Keigo, and Bakugo strode in after a quick bow to the heir.

“Greetings Heir.”

You smiled but it lacked warmth, “Good morning Champion. Are you ready to receive your first challenge?”

“Yes I am.”

Your smile widened, “Glad to hear it. Just to refresh your memory, you have 5 challenges to complete, with varying degrees of difficulty.”

“Yes Heir.”

“Your first task will be to retrieve a pearl necklace from the bottom of the nearby lake.”

Bakugo stiffened, it was winter outside, the water would be ice cold.

“Yes Heir.”

-

Bakugo tried to hide how he was shivering, but the erratic fog of his breath gave him away. The knight accompanying him tried to reassure him with a smile.

“There are 85 pearls in a necklace.” The knight said quietly, as Bakugo stood at the edge of the lake.

Bakugo turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

The knight said nothing further.

-

He could feel the icy water in his veins, in his very soul. It was cold, so very cold, and he had only found 20 pearls so far. He swam to the surface once more, adding a singular pearl to his pile on a tree stump.

Before he dove again, he tapped the amulet, secretly hoping it would bring him strength through this trial. This time when he dove, the water felt warm and when he reached the sandy bottom he found a long strand of pearls.

When he emerged to count them, he was delighted to find that it was a string of 65 pearls, missing 20 to make an even 85.

-

You hissed as he pulled the long string of pearls from the water. How did he get that? I cut those off myself.

There was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Bakugo, dripping icy water on your floor while holding a complete pearl necklace. He walked towards you and bowed at the desk you sat behind.

“May I put the necklace on you?”

You hummed an affirmative, and he came behind you, shaking hands dripping ice cold water down your back as he tried to clasp the necklace. You hissed from the cold, but the more overwhelming feeling was the heat that seemed to radiate from him. He was so close, for some reason it made your heart beat faster, and that made you seethe with anger.

“Congratulations, you have successfully completed the first task. Go rest and save your strength for the day ahead.”

As soon as he was out of earshot you stood, slamming your hands on the desk.

“Keigo!”

“Yes, my Heir.”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, “Was that just a fluke? I cut that necklace myself, there should have been 85 individual pearls and one string with a clasp at the bottom of that lake.”

Keigo’s expression was unreadable, “I don’t know, but I shall endeavor to find out for you.”

He left you sitting at your desk, chewing on your lip in frustration.

-

“Your next task is translating a love poem into the ancient language.”

The paper given to him read as follows,

‘I have loved you since before my first breath and will love you long after my last

You are like the breeze on a hot summer's day, refreshing and just what I need

I will be by your side until the end and beyond it, we are bound by fate forever’

He had spent hours in the library, flipping between pages and pages of books that might give him an answer.

-

You smiled thoughtfully, “Look at him Keigo, so lost in thought. He should be stuck on this one for a while.”

-

As Bakugo pulled book after book off the shelf with no success he absentmindedly thumbed the amulet. He turned the corner to make a pass at a bookshelf he had cleared and there was a single book still left on it. A quick glance showed it was exactly what he needed and he had to restrain himself from running back to his work station.

-

You frowned as you watched him and it deepened as you realized which book he was reading.

“I don’t understand, I removed that book from the library myself.”

Your brows furrowed as you rewound the footage, it was subtle, but you saw Bakugo’s hand briefly go to his chest. There was a flash of silver and you gasped, “It’s that damned amulet, it must be.”

“Keigo!” You called, he appeared at your side at once, “I need you to do something about the amulet that boy is wearing.”

“I shall take care of it at once.”

-

Bakugo examined the manuscript. The poem was somehow more beautiful after you read the translation. He went to the tower with paper in hand, heart hammering at the prospect of reading it to you. The door opened for him immediately and he did the customary bow.

“You were able to translate it?” You asked, an almost imperceptible quiver in your voice.

“Yes, shall I read it to you?”

When you nodded, Bakugo held the paper before him and took a deep breath,

“I love you from my first breath and I love you after my last breath

You are like the wind on a hot summer day, refreshing and exactly what I want

I will be with you until the end, and we will be bound forever”

He hoped you couldn’t hear the shake in his voice as he read it.

You paused, cheeks hot with embarrassment,

“Congratulations Champion, you have successfully completed your second task.”

-

You sat on your balcony watching the moon when Keigo appeared next to you.

“Is it done?” You asked, not bothering to hide the shake in your voice.

“Yes.”

Keigo sat next to you on the lounge chair as you patted for him to sit down. You leaned against him, a silent plea for support.

“Keigo?” You asked after a while.

He hummed in response and you took a shaky breath.

“Is it wrong to be scared? There’s a very real chance he could win.”

Keigo wrapped his arm around you, it’s weight was a welcome comfort.

“Not at all, if he wins, your life will change. But all things must change at some point or another.”

You grabbed his arm with your own, holding it tighter against you.

“But I’m not ready to leave you yet.” You said quietly.

Keigo smiled sadly and kissed the top of your head, “Oh little bird, all things must come to an end. But I will be here always, your faithful knight, nothing more, nothing less.” We were never anything more.

You let the tears flow down your cheeks, Keigo held you as you cried long into the night.

-

The next challenge was to move a pile of boulders to the top of a tall hill without them rolling back down. Bakugo carried boulder after boulder up the hill but no matter what he did they would roll back to the bottom.

One of the boulders split and he got an idea, a sudden spark of innovation.

“Am I allowed to use items for this one?”

The knight nodded and Bakugo jumped up, grabbing an axe and a flour sack. He hacked at the boulders until the sun sank low in the sky and his shoulders were on fire, but when he was finished he had a large sack of pebbles.

He took it easily to the top of the hill and laid it down flat, it wouldn’t roll down the hill.

-

You couldn’t help but marvel at his idea, it required adaptability and working with materials you had that weren’t necessarily suited to the job.

He entered the tower with a bow, and you smiled a genuine smile.

“Congratulations Champion, you have successfully completed your third challenge.”

-

Bakugo couldn’t get your smile out of his head, now that he had seen it for real he never wanted to let it go. He somehow wanted to be the reason you smiled, and he would do anything to see it again.

-

“Your fourth challenge is to save someone in distress. Go to town and see what you can do.”

When Bakugo made it to the town he was surprised to find it remarkably empty for a place that was usually bustling. He wandered the city, and only found a dog with a hurt paw.

He sat down and pulled the medicine kit from his bag, coaxing the dog towards him. He gently cleaned and wrapped the dog’s hurt paw and sent her on her way, with a bit of food first.

-

Bakugo was sent to the gardens instead of the tower to receive his judgement, he arrived a bit early though and stumbled across you tending to your plants as you hummed. His heart clenched, it was a little adorable, seeing the normally closed off you so open while by yourself. There was something remarkably authentic about it, seeing your slumped posture, your genuine smile.

Once you noticed him you straightened your posture and your clothes, expression returning to the neutral one of a ruler.

“That was an interesting loophole you found there. Congratulations Bakugo, you have successfully completed your fourth challenge.”

My name. The Heir said my name.

-

“I think I want him to win, Keigo.” You said softly, voice scarcely above a whisper.

Keigo smiled, “That’s wonderful Y/N, I’m so glad.”

You didn’t notice the sadness as he left, nor the tears brimming above his cheeks.

-

“Your fifth and final challenge is the most difficult. You must bring me back a ruby from a dragon’s horde without weapons.”

Bakugo nodded and went to gather the necessary provisions for the journey.

It took four days to reach the mountain where the dragon lived, now he stood at the mouth of the cave, trying to stifle the nervousness threatening to explode from his chest.

He entered the cave with his hands up to show he was not a threat, all weapons left at the entrance to the cave.

The dragon regarded him curiously, “Who are you mortal? Why have you come to this place?”

“I am no threat to you. I only wish to make the one I love happy.”

The dragon chuckled, pillars of smoke rising from its nostrils, “Oh? You’ve come here for someone else? How selfless of you.”

Bakugo shoved his frustration down in favor of taking a deep breath. “I only wish to make the one I want to be with happy.”

“And how can I help with that? Wouldn’t your lover be happier if you returned alive.”

Bakugo remained steadfast, stilling his rapid heart.

“I only wish for one ruby from your horde.”

The dragon laughed once more, this time emitting sparks, “And what shall I get in return?”

Bakugo somehow stood even taller, “An ally, who will make sure you remain unbothered on your mountain.”

The dragon considered his offer for a moment then nodded.

“Very well, you may have a ruby. Be warned though, if I find anything else missing our agreement will be void and I will attack your kingdom.”

He nodded. “Of course, thank you.”

Bakugo picked up his weapons and prepared for the journey back to the castle.

-

You couldn’t help but run to him as he knelt at the gate with the ruby in his hand. You waved him up with your hand and wrapped him in an embrace.

“Congratulations Katsuki Bakugo, you have successfully completed your fifth and final challenge.”

The king came out, announced by a fanfare of trumpets. “There will be a ball tonight in your honor.”

-

Bakugo took your hand in the empty hallway, wanting to pause before you went into the eyes of the public.

“Remember when you hated me?”

You snorted, “I never hated you Katsuki.”

He turned to you with a raised eyebrow, “Oh really? Then what was the artificially inflated ego comment about?”

You gave him a coy smile, planting a kiss on his cheek. “That was a test.”

You opened the door and stepped into the light, hand in hand, until forever.

-

All things must come to an end, but sometimes the good leaves to make room for something better.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #enemies to lovers #fairy tale au #katsuki x reader #gender neutral reader #aurora borealis

[rocorambles]

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Cop and Criminal AU (Cop Iwaizumi, Criminal Reader), NSFW, Sex Toys, Degradation, Overstimulation, Bondage

Summary: Bad girls get punished. And criminals who go out of their way to make Iwaizumi’s life hell on a routine basis deserve extra special punishment.

Author’s Note: This is for the NSFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event! @multifandhoem I hope you enjoy~ (I really got carried away with the plot in this fic. One day I will learn how to write porn without plot, but for now, please accept my porn with way too much plot.)

Irritating Iwaizumi Hajime might be your favorite activity in the world. There’s just something so satisfying about watching his usually calm and stoic face shatter into an angry feral mess. And maybe, just maybe, something deep in your belly stirs as he growls and snarls at you, something primal in you writhing in excitement as he bares his teeth at you and chases you. 

You’ve lived a life of sins and crimes for as long as you can remember, but hard work has taken you a long way. So really, there isn’t any need for you to continue your petty thieving ways. You’re set for life with the money you’ve accrued from the countless successful exchanges you’ve made. It’s almost obscene just how much people are willing to pay for a few shiny stones or swatches of paint on a canvas. 

And yet you can’t help yourself from revisiting your bad habits of creeping in the shadows, analyzing floor plans, strategizing routes. Only now, your plans are centered around a brooding spiky haired cop with the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen instead of the number of zeros at the end of a number. 

You don’t know exactly what about Iwaizumi resonates so strongly with you. Sure, he’s handsome, but you’ve run into your fair share of handsome officers. You dare say Officer Sawamura could give Iwaizumi a run for his money in the looks department.

Maybe it’s the hints of wildness you see underneath his straight-laced façade. 

Maybe it’s the fire you see blazing behind his reserved countenance.

Whatever it is has you keeping tabs on him, has you concocting plans just sloppy enough for Iwaizumi to get tantalizingly close to you, but put together enough to have you escaping his grasp each and every time. And you cackle at the way his eyes light up when he thinks he has you pinned down, only to furiously scowl at your retreating figure when you taunt him with a flirtatious air kiss and a cheeky “maybe next time, sir”. 

It’s an endless game of cat and mouse, but you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. And you’re beginning to suspect that even Iwaizumi finds it amusing to a certain degree. 

You had been at a loss for words when the officer had merely trudged into the jewelry store you had been waiting for him in at your last heist, only to casually lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded you holding the store’s most expensive strings of diamonds and pearls in your hands, teasingly holding them up to his face. And you hesitantly lower your arm, unsure what to do as the silence and stillness of the night stretches. 

There’s no growled threats or pointed firearm in your face like there usually would be right about now. And you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on the handsome face across from you as the two of you just stand there, stuck in the strange heady tension filling the air. 

But you almost drop everything you’re holding at Iwaizumi’s next words. 

“If you want my attention that badly, there are better ways of going about it.” 

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to laugh as your trademark smirk falls off the lower unmasked part of your face and he confidently saunters over to you, strong arms boxing you in against the glass counter, enjoying the rush of power he feels about the tables finally turning as you shyly look anywhere but at him. And something roars triumphantly inside of him when you gasp as he hooks his hand under your chin and forces you to meet him gaze on. 

“I’ve spent the last few months wracking my brain for answers. Why were you suddenly committing so many meaningless robberies? Robberies of stores and items so far beneath your caliber? Was it just coincidence that you were only committing crimes on the routes and nights I was working? Was I just imagining that it seemed like you were actively trying to avoid injuring me every time we clashed? None of it made any sense. But then your stupid flirting started and it made me think that maybe there was some rhyme and reason to your suddenly erratic behavior after all.” 

There’s silence as he lets you register his words and the rattling of jewelry as he plucks the expensive strands out of your hands and carelessly tosses them back in their case. But he softly smiles when you don’t deny his words and make no move to push him away or escape. 

“I believe in new beginnings and fresh starts, so when you’re done with your thieving ways, come find me. I’m curious about the woman under the mask.” 

It’s weeks before you have the courage to even secretly trail after Iwaizumi again after that encounter and even then, you don’t do anything but keep watch over him. 

His words echo in your mind and you don’t have the urge to steal and ring an alarm to beckon him towards you. Not when the greatest treasure of all is just within your grasp whenever you’re ready to summon the will to finally reveal your identity and meet him person to person in broad daylight instead of slithering around each other in the twisted tango of cop and criminal. 

But you aren’t ready yet and you merely keep tabs on him for now, curiosity and protectiveness getting the better of you, and if Iwaizumi notices the moving shadow that seems to follow him wherever he goes, he doesn’t bring attention to it. There’s something comforting, maybe even endearing, about how you’ve become a guardian angel of sorts to him, especially with the increasing body count and grizzly crimes being committed. And although he wishes you were safe and sound, tucked far away from the ricocheting bullets and corpses, his heart warms at the bouquet of lilies he finds on his doorsteps when he stumbles back home, empty and defeated, the weight of his partner’s death from a particularly bloody shootout still fresh on his mind. 

There’s no note, no letter, but he knows. Knows that it could only be you, knows that no one outside of his team or the criminals they had been fighting with could possibly know about the death so soon unless they happened to witness the scene. And that night he sobs himself to sleep, clutching your flowers to his chest, unaware of the way you forlornly stare at him from the roof across the street, heart aching and wishing more than anything that you weren’t such a coward, that you were brave enough to slip inside and comfort him in person. 

But life has a funny way of working, of not caring if you’re ready or not and your lives crash together once more in an unexpected way. 

Iwaizumi is promoted to lead the new task force aimed at squashing down the rising crime syndicates. You’re proud of him, but you can’t quell the anxiety that courses through you as you watch every raid that takes place, wondering if and when the day will come where he’ll be outmaneuvered, keeping your own skills sharp, praying that you’ll never have to use them again, but just in case…

And you thank whoever’s listening that you had kept up with your training as Iwaizumi’s team is ambushed and overpowered one night. Your heart drops and bile rises in your throat as officer after officer crumples to the floor, but you force yourself to calm down, to find an internal steady rhythm as you glide through the shadows, swiftly and secretly making your way towards the man you’ve become so attached to. 

You fight down the panic when you finally reach him, try to still the tremble in your hands as you quickly scan the growing dark red stain spreading across his shirt from his wounds, almost collapsing in relief when you find that they’re all superficial wounds, nothing life threatening or critical. 

The silent scuffle between the two of you is awful and you’re thankful that blood loss and pain have weakened him as you forcefully drag him away, nails gripping tightly into his skin as you roughly lead him to your apartment despite his struggling, despite his desperate desire to go back and help his few remaining teammates. And you’re both fiercely snarling at each other when you’re finally safe inside your apartment, fury raging in both of you as you snap at each other. 

“You should have let me stay and help!”

“So that you could end up dead like the rest of them? You were clearly outpowered and outnumbered!”

“Well you should have just let me die then, instead of helping me escape like a coward.” 

A resounding crack echoes throughout the room and it takes you some time to register the smarting pain in the palm of your hand and the fresh red mark on Iwaizumi’s cheek. But before you can even stutter an apology, a hand is fisting the front of your shirt and lips are crashing against yours in an angry impassioned act and you whimper as you are forced to taste his frustration and gratitude, his losses and gain, his despair and hope. 

And when he disconnects and the two of you gasp for much needed oxygen, you stand in the middle of your apartment, arms wrapped around each other, only the sounds of Iwaizumi’s sobs and your comforting words flitting through the air as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and you rub soothing patterns on his back. 

The rest of the night is a domestic peaceful drawl and you gently lead Iwaizumi to an armchair in your living room before scurrying away to rummage for your first aid kit and returning to kneel between his legs as you clean his injuries, apologizing as he winces at the sting of warm water and soap against his open wounds. There’s a soothing flow as you tend to him and you relax with every swipe of the towel, fingers and hands lingering just a tad longer than they should on his skin. But you stiffen when his uninjured arm raises and calloused fingers lightly trace the bottom of your mask. 

There’s an unspoken question in the way he delicately plays around with the corners of the fabric, but it seems deafening to you as your heart races. Maybe it’s the pure intentions in his eyes or the fact that your walls are weakened in the confines of your apartment, but either way, you don’t pull away, tilting your head up and stilling in silent confirmation. And something flutters in your chest as he gingerly removes your mask, heat rising to your face as green eyes stare at your face in awe for the first time, fingertips tracing every inch and line, mapping every groove reverently. 

It feels like eternity before you resume dipping the towel into the soapy water and treating him. But bandaged and deemed well, Iwaizumi is ushered to your shower and you shove a pile of clean towels and the largest loungewear you have into his hands, fully intent on locking him in the bathroom as you get a grip on yourself. But he has different plans in mind and you’re speechless as he firmly grasps your wrist before you can retreat with your tail between your legs. 

“Stay with me. Please.”

How could you possibly deny those honest eyes? 

Swipes of a soapbar against skin become intimate caresses and before you fully register what’s happening, you’re being pressed against the wall as Iwaizumi plunders your mouth, rough hands roaming all over your body as he fully explores everything you have to offer. You whimper as the hot water is suddenly turned off, the cold air crashing against you, but you let out a content sigh as a hot body wraps you in its embrace, carrying you to the sanctuary of your plush bedding. And all you know before you blissfully pass out is the sound of your wanton moans as you break apart over and over again, on Iwaizumi’s tongue, fingers, and cock, tears and drool cascading down your face as you alternate between begging for more and crying for him to let you rest before you ultimately pass out from the deliriously overwhelming ecstasy.

The sun is barely creeping in, a few slim tendrils slipping past the cracks of your window blinds when his eyes flutter open and something warm spreads in his chest as he slowly turns to observe your still soundly sleeping figure, a small upward quirk of his lips betraying how right it feels to wake up beside your vulnerable state. And although he can’t deny the allure of your body creeping through the night, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful like this, unmasked and body unconsciously seeking his presence and warmth as you curl into his space, your face nuzzling into his chest, head perfectly settled under his chin, the soft glow of sunlight enhancing your natural beauty. 

But he grimaces as his alarm continues to blaringly ring in the background, frowning as he reluctantly separates himself from you and carefully untangles himself from your bed sheets, quietly traipsing out of your room and dialing a number on his phone when he’s out of your earshot.   

Guilt and dread claw at him as the ringtone goes on and on and his throat is dry when he hears the authoritative voice through the speakers. 

“Iwaizumi? Are you okay?!”

Iwaizumi wishes he had a glass of water as he chokes out a polite greeting and he can feel hot tears prick at his eyes as he ceaselessly apologizes. Apologizing for abandoning his men. Apologizing for a failed mission. Apologizing for being such a failure as an officer, as a leader. 

But he quickly shuts up at the sharp tone that pierces his ear as Sawamura barks his name and he waits and waits, holding his breath, preparing to give up his badge, only to splutter in surprise at the warm relieved chuckle echoing across the speaker. 

“I’m glad you’re at least well enough to give me a headache with your wallowing. Good men died and we’re going to feel their loss for a long time. I won’t deny that. But no one blames you, Iwaizumi. You’re a good man, a great officer, and an even better leader. Rest up, grieve, mourn. Do whatever you need to do for the next few days. And when you’re ready, I expect to see you in my office so we can strategize about how we’re going to honor our fallen teammates by giving these criminals hell.”

He barely has time to stammer a “yes, sir” before the line clicks shut and the tears finally roll down his face as he clutches his phone in his hands, bittersweet gratefulness and sorrow blending together. And as his cries come to an end, a determined glint flickers in his eyes as he wipes the last of the salty trails away, the resolve of a man seeking vengeance forming inside of him. 

But that could wait until he was back in the swirl and chaos of the precinct. For now, he has other loose ends to tie and he quietly walks back to your room, smiling at the sight of your still slumbering figure nestled in your blankets as he makes his way towards you, intent on slipping back underneath the covers besides you. But he lets out a muffled pained curse as his foot knocks over a box besides your bed, the crash of objects dispersing across the wood floor rattling you awake, and you blearily blink your eyes open only to stare in shock and horror as Iwaizumi curiously holds up a set of black bondage restraints and a jeweled butt plug from among the scattered items, before sending an amused look and a quirked brow your way.    

If you were drowsy before, you’re wide awake now as you lunge out of bed, throwing yourself at Iwaizumi as you frantically try to regain possession of some of your most intimate belongings, pouting when he holds the items out of reach, a mischievous grin on his face as he looks down at you. 

“Are you familiar with the stoplight system?”

You pause your futile jumping as you try and bat your toys out of his hands, balking at the underlying meaning in his question, waiting for him to just laugh it off and move on. But when all he does is bring a warm hand to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as he patiently gazes at you, letting you make the final decision, you melt and lean into his touch, shyly nodding your head as you blissfully sigh at the way it feels so right for him to be touching you. 

“Words, princess. I’m not going to be gentle. Not after all the teasing and headaches you’ve caused me. So I need to be sure you’re ok with this, that it’s what you want.” 

Brief descriptions of red, yellow, and green are barely out of your mouth before you’re suddenly being forcefully shoved onto the bed, body instinctively flailing in self-defense as you try to register what’s happening while binds are roughly being wrapped around your wrists and ankles. But you mewl in arousal as Iwaizumi’s weight settles on top of you, his hard chest pressing you against the bed as he dexterously ties you up until you’re in a spread-eagled position underneath him, unable to move even an inch. And your breath hitches at the hungry look he pins you down with as he sits back and enjoys the view of your trussed up body on complete display for him. 

But you grow impatient as the minutes drag by and Iwaizumi gives you an unimpressed look as you begin to fight against your restraints, whining for him to get on with it already. And he shuts you up with a punishing pinch to your inner thigh that has you yelping before getting up from the bed and perusing your box of toys. 

You crane your neck in every way as you try to get a sneak peek of what he has in store for you, but Iwaizumi puts that idea to a screeching halt as he slips a blindfold around your head and all you know is darkness and anticipation. Despite the way you try to intently listen for any warning, you squeal in surprise when a hot wet mouth latches onto one of your nipples, fingers tweaking the other and your entire world narrows down to your two perky buds, the lewd wet sounds of sucking filling your ears. Mouth and hands alternate and you can’t keep up with the fluctuating patterns, your breath coming out in pants, your pussy beginning to glisten with arousal, and you sigh in relief when the assault stops, glad to have a moment of reprieve, only to wail when the intense pressure of nipple clamps sears through you, the cold weight of the chain connecting the two clamps piercing your senses as it settles onto your skin. 

Pain and pleasure echo through your mind so loudly that you don’t sense Iwaizumi moving until fingers suddenly slip inside your dripping pussy and your back arches, the nipple clamp chain jingling with the movement and a rush of humiliation courses through you when Iwaizumi chuckles, commenting on how wet you are already. 

“I was going to prep you a bit more, but looks like this cock hungry hole is more than ready.” 

You’re practically salivating as something hard nudges against your entrance, already delirious just from the prospect of being filled with Iwaizumi’s cock once again, but enthusiasm turns to confusion which turns to pleasured shock as your rabbit vibrator is shoved inside of you and immediately set to its highest setting, your clit and walls stimulated so sharply, so suddenly. 

It’s so good, but it’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s not what you want. 

“Haji-Hajime, please. Want to cum on your cock. Don’t want a toy! Too much. At least turn it down. Haji-AHHHH!” 

You scream as you’re forced to an orgasm, body convulsing, jaw going slack, and you wait for the toy to be removed, wait for the settings to be lowered, only for dread and disbelief to fill you as a sticky thick substance is being inserted into your puckered hole, a lubed finger slowly entering you, taking its time to explore and spread your tight hole as the vibrator continues to ravage your pussy and clit at full intensity. And drool begins to seep from the corners of your mouth as you tumble headfirst into overstimulation as a plug replaces the fingers inside of your ass, nestling inside of you as you come to terms with the overwhelming feeling of being double stuffed. 

“Ha-Hajime please please please. Too much. I can’t-”

The plug inside of you is teasingly pulled just enough for you to feel the stretch of your hole, only to be shoved inside you once again and words are too hard to think of as the vibrator is thrust in and out of you, the slick sounds of your gushing cunt embarrassingly loud even above your whimpers. 

“Maybe I should make you cum for every robbery you ever committed. Maybe then you’ll actually behave and be a law-abiding citizen. Would you like that? Being too fucked out to even think about breaking the law?”

“No! Please! I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I swear. Just please let me rest.” 

“Sorry, princess. Bad girls need to be punished.” 

A strangled sob escapes you as the vibrator is pushed even deeper inside of you, the smaller tip grinding even further into your clit and your cries are swallowed as Iwaizumi settles besides you, affectionately capturing your lips with his as he watches you break apart once again, smirking as your body and face try to draw closer to him, seeking comfort and relief as overwhelming pleasure drowns you. 

But he doesn’t stop. Not even when your begging and pleading turns into incoherent babbles and wanton noises. Not even when you’re too tired to even move, your body only twitching here and there from overstimulation, completely slack and mindless as pleasure melts your brain into mush. 

Only when the vibrator finally runs out of batteries hours later, the mechanical whirring coming to an end, does he finally relieve you of the object and you dazedly stare at him as he removes your tear-stained blindfold, slumping in relief that it’s finally over, wanting nothing more than to curl up in Iwaizumi’s arms and sleep for a long, long time. 

But he has other plans for the two of you and even in your exhausted state, your eyes fling wide open and you weakly whimper as he positions himself in between your legs, guiding his cock to your spent hole and easily slipping inside before caging you with his arms.

Your eyes roll back at the sudden intrusion and despite how wrecked you are, how used you feel, arousal once again begins to coil up inside of you as your walls accommodate the new object. 

All you can think about is the cock inside of you. All you can think about is the way it fills and stretches you. All you can think about is the way it drags against your sensitive walls as Iwaizumi begins to piston his hips in a brutal steady rhythm. 

The room is a cacophony of Iwaizumi’s grunts, your broken moans, the sound of skin slapping against skin and you can feel yourself losing to the pleasure as the now all too familiar knot in your stomach tightens once again, your body tensing and pulling taut against your restraints as something builds up inside of you. 

Iwaizumi isn’t doing much better, so pent up from watching you beautifully fall apart over and over again in front of him, so close to the real thing as he hovers above you, memorizing the blissed out look on your face, mentally recording every gorgeous sound that slips past your lips, and this time it’s all because of him. 

He increases his pace, groaning as your walls tighten around him as if they don’t ever want him to leave them empty, something feral inside of him howling as your mouth opens in a silent scream as you crash one last time, your body shaking and trembling, your cunt spasming around him as he spills long thick stripes inside of you. 

When there’s nothing left to give, every last drop of his essence deep within you, your body boneless and limp beneath him, he gently lays on top of you, burying his face in the space besides yours, murmuring praises and words of affirmation as he blankets your body with his. 

And when you finally come back to him, eyes looking a little more clear, voice regaining your sassy tone as you demand that he undo your restraints, he’s more than happy to oblige, carefully releasing you, rubbing every sore limb, letting you use him as your personal body pillow as you throw your arms and legs around him and bury your face into his chest, almost instantly falling into a deep exhausted slumber in the safety of his presence. 

There will be proper, much needed conversations and discussions when the two of you are both awake, sitting across each other with steaming mugs of coffee placed in front of you, hesitantly yet hopefully probing for answers. What are the two of you? What does the future hold for both of you? 

But for now, Iwaizumi lets his eyes shut, lets himself be lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as he holds you close to him, protectively curling around you as sleep embraces him.

#haikyuu smut #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #Iwaizumi #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu x reader

[jinkicake]

You Call Him Daddy?!

You accidentally call them daddy in front of the team.

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Anon, this might be a tad bit ooc in some parts.... Sometimes I picture the different ways these characters act when they aren’t seen and I like to write it like that LOL You know experiment and shit,,, Also I feel like I’m the only bitch who likes Nohebi HAHAH 

SMUT // NSFW 

WC- 2,213

~~~

Akaashi Keiji

First let me say, wow Akaashi is so pretty and done.

I feel like if you accidentally call him daddy in front of the team it’ll be such a big mess 

All the third years, except Bokuto, are going to be silent, while their captain is like ‘yo toss for me’ like the whole ‘daddy’ thing would go over Bokuto’s head. Sweet Bokuto does not kink shame, okay. The managers would be squealing and gasping in shock, sending you suggestive looks before dragging you off somewhere to beg for details HAHAH

“Keiji! I’m so happy to see you!” You exclaim softly before wrapping your arms around him, you’re at the representative playoffs and you finally get to see your boyfriend once again after the few weeks of separation

Despite living relatively close to one another, you and Akaashi were both very busy preparing for these games. While he was practicing with his own team, you were managing for yours (which always proved to be a challenge, even now)

“Oh, how is your girlfriend doing by the way?” Kuroo sneers behind you and you glance to see your own captain squaring up with the pesky cat 

“Ah, excuse me Keiji,” You pout and apologize, Akaashi gently smiles and kisses the pout off your lips before unwrapping his arms to let you go control your petty team

“Daishou!” You scold and wrap your hand around said boy’s bicep, pulling him behind you to get in front of Kuroo, you give the Nekoma captain a fake smile before turning around to face your friend “I’m trying to see my boyfriend and I can’t do that if you keep starting shit!” You whisper-yell and Daishou rolls his eyes

“I didn’t start anything-“ He lies and you narrow your eyes up at him

“Daishou stay away from them and they’ll stay away from you, okay? Save your energy for the court.” You pat his chest and gently let go of the grip you have on him,

You’re about halfway back to Akaashi before you hear the damn snake speak up again

“I broke up with her!” Your eye twitches because you know damn well Yamaka broke up with him, you send Akaashi another sympathetic smile before walking back to your teammate

The grip you have on Daishou’s collar makes him choke and you practically toss him into the wall and get in-between him and Kuroo once more, glaring at anyone who looks at you

“I am trying to talk to my boyfriend who I have not seen in a few weeks so if you both could kindly stay away from each other I would appreciate it,” You smile sweetly and Daishou scrunches his nose before opening his mouth once more 

“See you in the finals” He sneers and you quite literally pick him up by his hair

“Daishou if you don’t shut the fuck up, you’re not going to see the finals. All I want is to have a peaceful day and then go home and give my boyfriend that gawk gawk 3000 and call him daddy so if you could please help me just this once and be quiet.” You growl and drag him away from Nekoma, smiling softly at Akaashi when you pass him, you bring your captain all the way to where your team is in the bleachers and sit him down on the bench “okay, now then-“

“You call him daddy?” Daishou snickers and you narrow your eyes at him

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask and Daishou laughs so loudly it sounds like a cackle 

“You said, and I quote,” Daishou clears his throat before speaking again, purposely altering the pitch of his tone to reference yours “give my boyfriend that gawk gawk 3000 and call him daddy so if you could please-“ 

Daishou shuts up when you sit down next to him dejectedly

“I said that in front of you and the entire Nekoma team and Fukuroudani?” You whisper and the captain throws his arm around your shoulder

“Don’t worry (Y/N)! At least you didn’t say it in front of our team…. Oh wait,” He snickers and you awkwardly face the rest of your players and coach

“Ah, Daishou, I’m going to quit” You cry and he immediately tries to calm you down 

“Wait, (Y/N), no you can’t!” 

“So, you like being called daddy?” Kuroo asks after he bumps into Akaashi. Your boyfriend can only sigh in shame and shake his head, “I-is that a yes or a no?”

“That’s a shut the fuck up Kuroo” Kenma bites and defends his other friend, trying to drag the middle blocker away from the setter

Konohana, Komi, and Sarukui simply blink before walking away, dragging Bokuto along with them so their setter can face the shame in peace 

“Oh, Keiji!” You squeak and tightly grip the bed sheets on either side of you, you want to so badly grip his silky hair but, Akaashi has rules. The dark-haired boy flicks your thigh as a warning and you can’t help the pout that appears on your face. Akaashi not allowing you to touch him is a big punishment and, needless to say, you aren’t happy about it. Akaashi continues to stare up at you from in-between your thighs, his lips have captured your clit as he sucks dutifully on the swollen bud. 

“Daddy,” The pitiful whimper slips past your lips and Akaashi smirks against your soaking cunt, his tongue flicks your clit. His warm mouth is welcoming as he continues the harassment on the delicate pearl. “I-I love you.” The endearing phrase flies past your lips and Akaashi feels his resolve soften, he can never stay harsh with you for long. 

Though, he will try.

Akaashi removes his mouth and slaps your clit with four fingers, watching as you squirm and cry at the impact. He can tell how badly you want to grip his hair and he mentally reminds himself to reward you for staying so still, well as still as you can be. He continues to tap the sensitive bundle of nerves, ranging from light taps to slaps that sound throughout the room. 

“Daddy, please,” You cry and Akaashi takes pity on you, he leans forward and licks soothing strips up against your clit. He wants to kiss the sting away because he truly cares too much about his baby and wants you to feel nothing but pleasure.

“Daddy loves you too sweet girl, I love you so much.” Akaashi coos as he kisses along your thigh, he glances up and sees you staring at him with a deep pout on your face. He just wants to kiss it off. “Don’t look at me like that.” He tries to scold but his words come out weak, your pitiful eyes play numbers on him that he will never understand. “Patience, you’ll get what you want, hold out for Daddy."

Kozume Kenma

I 99.9% believe that Kenma getting called daddy in front of the team is Kuroo’s fault ,,, LOL 

Like Kuroo knows shit and it accidentally slips and everyone is like … ‘kuroo wtf’ because nobody believes him much to Kenma’s relief HAHAH

It isn’t often that you can convince Kenma to stay after at a joint practice but when you do, you nearly regret it every time

“And then she wanted to call me daddy,” Kuroo gasps loudly like the gossiper he is and you have to refrain from rolling your eyes at the way Bokuto is hanging onto his every word “shit honestly though, it was pretty hot”

The one time…. One time you convince Kenma to stay after practice to spend time with his friends and these are the conversations you get 

“Oh, I totally believe you Kuroo” You click your tongue mockingly and the tall captain gently pushes the side of your head 

“It’s true, don’t be jealous you weren’t her (Y/N)” Kuroo throws back and you flick him off, internally smiling at the way Kenma pulls you closer to his chest and tightens his arms around your shoulders 

“Kuroo you’re literally the biggest nerd on the planet, you really expect me to believe you get pussy, much less get someone to call you daddy?” At your words Bokuto gasps and Akaashi covers the ace’s gaping mouth with his own hand

“Ask Kenma he was there!” Kuroo flicks your forehead and you turn around to your boyfriend with your hand already bunched up in his dyed hair 

“I was not there,” Kenma confirms and had it not been for his arms wrapped around your waist, you would have lunged at Kuroo

“I don’t know why it’s so hard to believe, it’s not like you don’t call Kenma ‘daddy’” Kuroo spills, stating it so simply like he’s talking about the weather. You start to mentally plan his death as Akaashi shakes his head and Bokuto begins laughs loudly

You know Kenma hates being put in the spotlight but you simply could not help yourself

“You’re telling me if you had this mf fucking you every night, you wouldn’t call him daddy?” You snap at Kuroo and Kenma tenses behind you before squeezing your hips so hard you nearly yelp, Kuroo leans back on his forearms and looks around proudly like what did I say? 

“Yeah, okay,” Bokuto wheezes and falls back on the gym floor 

“What?” You and Kuroo both snap and Bokuto laughs even harder, clutching his sides and trying to cover his loud voice with Akaashi’s jacket

“Those two virgins? Yeah right-AH” Bokuto points at you and Kenma before Akaashi shuts him up by covering his mouth once again

“How would you even know that Kuroo?” Akaashi asks while placing his other hand on Boktuo’s shoulder to keep him pinned to the floor 

“Best friends don’t overshare their sex lives?” Kuroo asks and Akaashi shakes his head quietly, Kuroo does not miss a beat with his follow-up response “Oh, I forgot you two do each other so there isn’t much to share” 

Now it’s your turn to gasp and Kenma tries to hide the audible hitch in your breath with his hand. The gym is now silent and you eagerly glance between Kuroo, Akaashi, and Bokuto while waiting for someone to confirm or deny the statement

“Come on Kuroo it was one time!” Bokuto finally gets out of Akaashi’s grasp and Kuroo gives him a pointed look, “Fine. Five times” Another moment of silence passes before “Okay, it has become a regularly occurring thing” 

“Wow,” You simply nod in amazement before sending Akaashi a proud thumbs-up, one that Kenma swats down quickly 

“So we all probably have daddy kinks…” You trail off and look around the gym suspiciously, taking in the small noticeable nods you receive while trying to subtly hide the shocked look on your face

“Well, wasn't this fun, we all learned something new about each other!” Kuroo claps amusedly and Kenma buries his head into your shoulder 

“Yeah, too much,” He mutters before nudging your nose with his ear “can we leave now?”

Of course, Kuroo happened to overhear that

“KENMA I HEARD THAT!” 

Kenma kneels behind you and he oozes disinterest as his eyes run all over your bent figure. The way he has you tied up has your face shoved into the mattress while your ass is high in the air. Kenma leans forward, hovering over you as he playfully snaps your blindfold between his fingers. 

“You’re so irritating,” He sighs and tugs on your hair roughly, forcing you to arch your back even more. It doesn’t matter how much shit he talks because you can still feel the hard heat digging into the back of your thighs. “you really wanted everyone to know your little secret.” 

Kenma trails one of his hands between your thighs, running his fingers along your slit and the gag in your mouth muffles your moans. 

“Kuroo acts like he knows everything we do behind closed doors but truthfully, he doesn’t even know the half of it.” Kenma softly rubs his palm against your ass, smoothing it over to the bottom of your spine. “Isn’t that right?” He asks and you can’t help the way you push your ass harder up against him. 

A harsh slap resonates around the room, the entire impact of it all makes your body lunge forward. Had it not been for the restraints, you would have bucked your head into the wooden headboard. Kenma quietly laughs before doing it again, letting his slim hand smack your ass once more. He watches with an amused expression at how your thighs have slightly spread for him so that he can see your drenched cunt perfectly.

“You’re enjoying this,” Kenma voices his thoughts and you nod your head, Kenma has to hold back from rolling his eyes and he leans over to release the gag from your mouth.

“Yes Daddy, I want more. Please,” You softly moan, your voice coming out hoarse due to the strain in your jaw and the dryness of your throat. Your boyfriend almost regrets taking the gag off your loudmouth. Regardless, he finds himself playing right into your game and the tightness in his pants increases tenfold. He does this all for you, Kenma lies to himself. It isn’t all entirely just for you.

“How many more do you want? How many more can you take from me?”

~ Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @lovellucy @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder

#akaashi keiji x reader #kozume kenma x reader #akaashi x reader #kenma x reader #akaashi smut #kenma smut #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut

[arrivisting]

some v. rough writing from yesterday I’ll probably not use in the end

They were standing back to back in the camp, surrounded by enemies: by furious Elven and Eldar, by accusing eyes familiar and strange. There was blood on Maedhros’s sword. He hadn’t wanted to kill the guard – he’d barely seemed of age, blond like so few of the Noldor were, wide-eyed. His mouth had opened in a shout above the new slit in his throat, then disgorged blood rather than sound.

There were people all around them, shouting. Someone was crying. They pressed around him and his brother, but didn’t touch them. Did they fear their swords, or fear them, like a foul contagion belched out of Angband?

They were going to have to cut a way out. He could tell Maglor knew it. His brother was stiff and alert behind him. They couldn’t hope to win. They’d fight anyway. They’d fight these angry Elves he didn’t dare look at too closely, lest he recognise them; they were trained to deliver death. This crowd might hold back. Maedhros and Maglor would cut their way out, killing until they were killed in turn; until someone in the crowd got over squeamishness about slaying their own kind and put an end to them.

Maedhros was tired. He hoped they killed him before they killed Maglor, which all but made certain they wouldn’t.

“Fall back,” said a clear voice. It had the bright quality of a Valarin bell, the kind that had rung out whenever the Mingling began, back in Valinor, before the darkness. “Do not harm or hinder them.”

“They have the Jewels,” someone said, and in their voice was grief. “They killed again for them. They slipped into our tents like shadows and left like thieves.”

“They are indeed thieves and murderers,” the Ainu said. Eonwe, with his clarion throat and golden skin, his eyes too light a blue to be natural. His pale hair clasped the shape of his skull in licks like feathers. There were no pupils to his eyes. “But judgment upon them is for the lords and ladies of the Māchananaškad: it is not for you, nor yet even for me.”

The crowd had parted for him as he spoke, falling back before the faint light of his inviolate flesh. They flinched from touching his silver armour or his white cloak with their imperfect hands, their rough bodies.

“The Jewels are our own,” said Maglor. His rich voice seemed less beautiful than usual, coming after Eonwe. “Our father’s. How can we steal what is ours already, unjustly withheld?”

“You have already had my answer on that,” said Eonwe.

There was light enough now that Maedhros could see, in the silver radiance of Eonwe’s form, in the red flare of the torches, faces he recognised, if he dared pick them out.

He didn’t want to.

They were pressing forward, however, through the crowd, into the empty spaces left by others falling back in obedience. There were faces he knew from brighter days in Himring and in the Gap, in Thargelion and in Himlad, from the long bleak years after the Tears. People he had trusted, and led into battle, and lived with side by side; who had turned from his banner after Sirion. Some had merely left, streaming away like lost pearls of mercury: that they had come in the end to Balar was to be expected. Those looked at their former lords with sorrow, with horror.

The ones who had not only turned away but had taken up their arms to protect the innocents of Sirion from their lords: there was horror there, certainly, but a certain hard conviction which wasn’t exactly pleasure. They had seen the end of the road. They had swerved in time. They had been right to be foresworn.

There was one of Turgon’s lords, clutching a spear. Maedhros remembered leaving him wounded but alive after Sirion. They’d killed another one then, hadn’t they? Egalmoth, who’d still been wearing his silly helmet, all gleaming silver, twisting back into a crest shaped almost like a flower.

The last lord of Gondolin’s eyes were accusing.

And there was his cousin, Artanis, with her golden hair half-pinned like she’d risen from sleep, her eyes hard.

He turned from her to one of the flint-eyed Sindar looking at him and his brother as though they were Orcs out of legend: monsters who had fallen first on Doriath and then on Sirion, sawing at the thin silver line of their royal family until it fractured and snapped. That was fair, he thought. He could bear that judgment.

Then – no. No.

“Oh,” Maglor said, in desperate negation. “Oh, no; oh, why did they have to be here?”

That was Maglor: still believing, despite himself, that things might be all right. Still believing that they might sue the Valar for pardon, and one day be forgiven. Still not sure why every chance turned in their hands, why every arrow went astray: why everything was always the worst it could be, every shade of softness extinguished by darkness.

Of course they were all there.

Elrond and Elros. Half-grown, halfway between Elves and men, looking white and shocked. Their sweet, fierce fosterlings with their starling-bright eyes, still wearing their Feanorian motley. It hurt that they were still dressed in drab, little eaglets in sparrow’s guise. They should have been hung with gold and jewels at last, like the princes they were. Why weren’t they?

Celebrimbor, a ghost from the past with their father’s face and eyes entirely his own. The only one of them to escape the net of the Doom. He was reproach itself, the example they could not – would not? – follow. And he was weeping, quietly, and dashing the tears from his eyes with the back of his wrist as though they shamed him.

And, coming forth to stand at Eonwe’s side, shoulder to shoulder – stern, tall, dark-haired – a young man who looked only as old as the twins, although he had been born long before. Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor.

Of course the High King was there, a perfect Fingolfinian in his blue and silver. His battered steel armour and dark blue surcoat were littered with silver stars. He was large: as tall as the Ainu, and broader in the shoulders than Fingon or Fingolfin had ever been.

He had Fingon’s square jaw, but there was something delicate in the modelling of his cheekbones, his mouth: as though some sculptor had been at work refining all the details. Maedhros couldn’t stop looking at him.

He could feel Maglor’s confusion blooming beside him in the dark, then abating. He could guess at the shape of his brother’s thoughts, if not the words:

Why is he so stuck on Orodreth’s boy, when Elrond and Elros are right there?  I suppose it’s the resemblance: he looks a little like Fingon, doesn’t he? Is he imagining Fingon now, risen from the dead to judge him? I’m tired of him flogging himself with Fingon’s ghost. It’s not so close a likeness, anyway. It’s mostly the colouring and the colours. They do say he was Fingon’s, and I can see why they might; if I didn’t know better…

The grown Gil-galad’s eyes were like stars. Cold, and furious, and burning.

#i am so incapable of writing at the moment