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#(taking advantage of butters)
nobodyproblematic · 5 months
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Jacob Custos can’t cook for S H I T.
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wormlette · 2 months
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Soooooo glad i’m not the only mickbell enjoyer; the family dynamic makes me insane 😭
THANK YOU SAAAAME!!!! Like we see Daya critiquing their relationship and assuming Kuro is being used but Kabru (who is the best at understanding peoples' relationships and motivations!) is the one who recognizes "you're both really overprotective of each other, aren't you?" Like. They've both been through the worst in life and seen the absolute lowest of people and yet they have each other and love each other so fiercely they only want to be a comfort to each other. Mik is so scared of Kuro leaving her. Mik also started paying Kuro in food when HE HAD NOTHING... they started adventuring together... they're brothers!! Mik just has no idea how to have a healthy sibling relationship!!!! I completely understand why it seems like a lot of people see "he's underpaying the cute dog that was a SLAVE" and are turned off by her but there's SO MUCH MORE GOING ON THERE THAN DAYA SEES. IN MY O PINION
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victimized-martyr · 1 year
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Are you optimistic about season 26?
erm um… no?? 🥲
Season 25 and Streaming Wars had their moments, but overall the delivery of ideas felt lackluster. Much like the last 2 years, I expect a running theme. Essentially, the season won’t really be a season per se, but acts as narrative buildup interspersed with side episodes—though they will loosely connect to the season—leading up to the 2 specials airing later this year. It’s a solid game plan on paper, but s25/SW was super dodgy. I feel the saving grace was Tolkien’s renaming, and Cartman’s whole hot dog arc thing that just got set up. I know Randy was given competition (finally! the little resistance and pushback to his hijinks has done serious damage to his character) but really the biggest takeaway I’ve seen from fans/merch is stuff from Cartman’s arc. (cartitties).
However, I feel Matt and Trey have been revitalized by the concert, Casa Bonita’s opening, and their deepfake deal. It’s a double edged sword though, because now Mattrey are juggling the opening of a restaurant, production for the video game, their deepfake studio… I’m worried their attention will be divided and affect the quality of the story this season.
TLDR: Very mixed feelings, though not quite approaching cautiously optimistic… I expect the fresher ideas (HotDog) to get sidelined and Randy will remain in focus.
#south park#I’ve no doubt ​Trey will apply his patented Two Sides: Rivalry setup between Steve and Randy#and their rivalry will take up like. 60% of the plot#and Trey can be a lil shit so i’m ready for when he’ll be like ‘yeah it’s the randy show again deal with it fuckheads🤪’#meanwhile the more interesting arc is sitting. right. there. in the bg#a buddy and I were realizing Cartman has been taking a turn these past few years and the hotdog is the culmination of that#his motivations are transparent to those closest to him (butters+ liane in s25) and he’s frustrated by his#inability to adapt#Liane’s putting her foot down so that will be VERY interesting to see how the Cartman family dynamic will evolve#and we expect the boys to start closing off Cartman for taking advantage of their kindness#idk. he’s losing his grip on liane and he needs to lose his grip on his friends. I think we’re gonna start to see the latter#I think?? Trey is taking him.. well not towards redemption but… somewhere???#and I do wanna see stan and tolkien hang out more and maybe that’ll cement the changes in the group dynamic#or maybe it’ll only affect the bus stop openings lol idk#I do feel their friendship is delicate rn and Help My Teen was a step but there’s more re-bonding left to do#and the physical separation of them all is gonna make that a bit more difficult#it’d be nice to see a growing dynamic between Kyle and Kenny. we have! no episodes centered on their dynamic!!#they give me the impression of ‘oh we’re good buddies but only hang with a group and never outside of it’#they’re the weakest relationship of the 4 for sure and these circumstances can remedy that!#…. watch trey do absolutely nothing with kyle and kenny except have them be reactionary :’)#asks
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padfootastic · 1 year
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not the same anon and i agree w what u said but idk what u mean abt the discrimination mainly being fanon bc it is mentioned in the books that werewolves suffer heavily in poverty bc they are shunned from the wizarding world + anti werewolf legislations are brought up as well. i mean the general consensus abt werewolves seems to be that most ppl are scared of them and think they are dangerous, even out of the full moon
okay yeah i get how it came across that way lol i didn’t bother elaborating only sozz
so. what i meant was: the books give us like a…telling of lycanthropy discrimination, yeah? it tells us people are scared (altho tbf, it’s shown to a certain degree as well w greyback and all), tells us about the anti-werewolf legislation etc etc. what it shows is like. remus in shabby clothes. remus leaving hogwarts in poa before the angry howlers start. remus infiltrating werewolf packs. remus being a ‘privileged minority’ bc of his exclusive education and social capital.
what we don’t see is like. any visible barriers remus faces either bc a. wasn’t imp to narrative so wasn’t shown or b. he ran away before things could reach that point.
if we really wanna deconstruct remus’ identity & barriers he faced (which i don’t lol) we cannot ignore the fact that he was an outlier even amongst werewolves. for one, he was formally educated & is a wand user. two, he wasn’t living in ‘abject poverty’ (had a cottage and all, yeah?) three, had super privileged pureblood friends which affords a layer of protection to him. four, access to wolfbane (supposedly expensive and complicated to make). five, social capital in the form of dumbledore who got him a professor job. six, had a wife and child, got to make his own family.
and that’s just what we do know of him. i’m not even counting the potential happy family he could’ve had with hope and lyall or anything else. so honestly, what we know of remus particularly, it’s more privilege than not. i’m not discounting that werewolves face discrimination in the WW (considering how blood-obsessed it is, that’s impossible) i’m just saying remus had multiple shields from the worst of it.
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purinsesukinny · 1 year
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that. was my favorite butters episode ever.
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supercutszns · 4 months
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Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
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You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
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You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
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luciddownloading · 7 months
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The 5th House and Star Power/Quality ✨
The sign on your 5th House cusp and/or planet(s) in your 5th shows how you shine. Bright like a diamond! It's the key to finding not only your talent but your star power, your It Factor. If you were a celebrity, it would be what people praise you the most for. But, everyone gets the most hype for their 5th House energies. So, be your own talent agent and take advantage of them!
Life hack for creatives and performers out there: your 5th House shows you "your lane" as an artist. Not your 10th House. It's the direction you should go in creatively if you feel like you're struggling to successfully carve out your niche or attract recognition. You will gain the biggest following by emphasizing it.
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SUN IN THE 5TH and/or LEO ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
Lucky you! You seemingly just have to be you to gain an adoring following. People love how authentic you are, how you're not trying to be anyone other than you. This is "movie star" type energy. The kind of performer who is constantly "playing themselves" but is so charming and magnetic that nobody minds. You have Stage Presence. You could just stand around, doing nothing, and people want to watch. So, remember that you never have to try hard. You're just naturally entertaining and charismatic. Don't be afraid to play the role of the star, either! Admit it. You enjoy the attention. And others enjoy giving it to you! Your confidence plays a big role in this (whether it's natural or you're faking it til you're making it), creating this golden aura of greatness around you. You could turn the grocery store into a Red Carpet event just by walking in.
MOON IN THE 5TH and/or CANCER ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
No matter your age, you remain the girl or boy next door. Your star quality is cute, comforting, safe. Wholesome vibes. This is the actor who does a dozen rom-coms or tearjerkers that are like a fuzzy blanket on a rainy day. You gain the most applause via your vulnerability. In spite of what you may fear, shedding a few tears or having a cathartic meltdown only earns you admiration, not ridicule. Sensitivity allows you to shine! You might have a very charismatic mother figure that you clearly get your greatness from. Or, if/when you have children, they could look up to you as the brightest light in their life. Your whole immediate family may be very talented or entertaining and you're most in your element when around them.
MERCURY IN THE 5TH and/or GEMINI ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
Hello, Jack/Jill of all Trades! People will be enthralled by just how multi-talented you are. Double/triple/quadruple threats! It may even exhaust others a bit and even if you're not exactly mastering all those interests, you still make it fascinating to watch. But, let's be clear: writing is your bread and butter, whether it's screenwriting, prose, poetry, or blogging. You are a top-tier storyteller, even in person, and will probably gain the most attention for your writing. Your star quality stems from that witty, smart, cheeky, clever voice you have. When you have something to say, people listen! And it usually takes them in an unpredictable direction. Your duality is also the key to your charisma, as you are an entertaining bundle of opposites that others can't truly figure out.
VENUS IN THE 5TH and/or TAURUS/LIBRA ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
Okay, let's be honest. Your attractiveness keeps people in the palm of your hand. Most of your audience is so entertained by you because they think you're such a babe. Also, that you're just such a sweetheart! This would be the kind of actor whose characters you always root for because they're so damn likable. But, before you see your star power as superficial (as you may sometimes complain about not being taken seriously enough), you have some serious artistic prowess. It's largely visual. You'd make a fabulous director, painter or photographer because your aesthetic and eye for beauty leaves others wanting more. (You might even just be the best at curating your social media) PS: You are either the ultimate muse, constantly inspiring others' art or other notable efforts, or you tap into your light by making a special someone your muse.
MARS IN THE 5TH and/or ARIES ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
Do you hear that? It's the sound of your fans salivating over you! Your star power makes you hot as a summer day and it's not necessarily about how you look. You just have this sexual charisma to you. It's giving sexy rock star, with all the panties or boxer-briefs thrown on stage to prove it. So, if you were to be a performer, that would be your lane. Or possibly a rapper (depending on your skills/interests, obviously). Anything that lets you be wild, raw, hard-hitting. Regardless of your talents, you shine brightly when being daring and living on the edge. This also makes for extreme-sports enthusiasts and excellent athletes, the latter of which can lead to a killer bod. Which will definitely gain you much attention. Tbh, there are some himbo/bimbo vibes here but in the most empowered way. Like, "yes, I will wear little to no clothes because I know people love it and it's my power move."
JUPITER IN THE 5TH and/or SAGITTARIUS ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
Listen, you're not just talented. You have serious Chosen One energy. Whatever you are good at, it's blatantly obvious that you were put on Earth to do it. You live out your path like a God-given mission and it leaves people kind of in awe. If you're an artist (and there's a good 83.5 percent chance you are, with this placement), you are capable of either becoming a larger-than-life force in your creative field or gain a passionate cult following that is convinced you're terribly underrated (even though you're quite popular) and no one gets your work like they do. In the midst of it all, your sense of fun and humor remain, never taking yourself too seriously. You shine bright by being funny, colorful, a little bit extra and uncensored. Blunt, on-the-edge statements that others would be crucified for are mostly seen as entertaining and refreshing coming from you.
SATURN IN THE 5TH and/or CAPRICORN ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
This is definitely the girlboss position, even for the boys with this placement, lol, because you know how to be in-charge in a way that others find exciting and engaging. Like, "Yes, I want to get that bread, too!" But, few people can actually match your work ethic or authority, which could stem from a father figure who you worship and adore and make you a very commanding figure. It's funny but the more intimidating you are, the more you shine. Or should I say the brighter you shine, the more that light intimidates others? Most of you with this placement embrace it, seeing the perks of being feared. Popular people often are! You might not get the credit for your actual talent that you deserve, especially if you're an artist. People may think your greatness is a matter of image or focus more on how you hustled to the top. It may not be until you're a bit older that people start seeing your actual substance.
URANUS IN THE 5TH and/or AQUARIUS ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
You are most charismatic or entertaining when you're not trying to be. The nerdy, weird, or chaotic parts of yourself that you may cringe at or think nothing of are actually what gain you the most praise. You might be like that celebrity who acts like they're not famous or doesn't understand why they are. But, as time goes on, you learn to just go with it! Similar to Jupiter/Sagittarius in the 5th, your creative talents can be truly iconic. But, there's like an "artistic genius" or "young prodigy" vibe here. You might completely stumble into a skill and shock everyone, especially yourself, with what a natural you are. You also shine by defying certain gender roles, impressing others as a sensitive or beauty-loving guy or a tomboyish or aggressive lady.
NEPTUNE IN THE 5TH and/or PISCES ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
Your star power stems from the entire worlds and dimensions you can create. Obviously, this is a particularly artsy, imaginative placement. But, a role as a fantasy/sci-fi writer, especially, could lead to lots of praise. Few would excel at intricate world-building or provide glorious escapism like you. Whatever you do creatively, your special magic shines through. A chameleon type presence is also evident, like the type of actor who can easily "disappear" into roles. Even in regular life, people are most entertained by your disappearing acts. You might be very quiet and internal, even in a room full of people, intriguingly fading into the background. Or you could just be evasive, like a spirit that quickly vanishes and whose absence haunts you. Regardless, it's your softness, your mystery, your fantasy life that enthralls people. Bonus points if you have a particular alter ego you constantly assume.
PLUTO IN THE 5TH and/or SCORPIO ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
You entertain folks best when your highs and lows are on full display. People want to see the drama with you, the "sturm und drang", the tears and the ecstasy. A creative outlet is actually quite recommended for most of you with this influence. Those emotional extremes you're capable of draw your audience in the most, whether it's through introspective poetry or soul-baring music or the kind of raw character work that is worthy of Best Actor or Actress. The deeper you go, the more you shine. And while that may be scary, you embrace that fear and enjoy conquering it. But, there are limits to this intimacy, as you can be equally guarded in a way that ironically gains you more fans. It's that "leave them wanting more" star quality, a kind of Greta Garbo mystique. Even when you tell people you want to be alone, it doesn't stop them from trying harder to get into your business. The dilemma of such a private star!
CHIRON IN THE 5TH and/or VIRGO ON THE 5TH HOUSE CUSP
Feeling particularly neurotic? Like you're not good enough and like you have no clue how to do what you're supposedly talented at? This is the struggle of many creatives. But, for you, this insecurity is actually the essence of your star quality. You are the underdog that everyone roots for. Your fans might find it especially endearing or rather heartbreaking that you don't see your greatness. But, it creates this narrative around you where others want to invest in your endless journey to prove yourself. One secret you may keep, even from yourself, is that a part of you knows you're good. But, you're afraid to admit it because you think it'll jinx you. Or you think you have to squash any potential ego and remain impeccably humble. Allow yourself the occasional private "I'm feeling myself" moment. No one else will know!
Thank you for attending my Hype Session. Keep shining, babes.
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foolilazuli · 4 months
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Whenever Luffy is bored and there’s nothing else to do, the crew plays a game they call mutiny
The Strawhats chase their captain all over the ship (its better if its in a town) and they try to catch Luffy like a greasy pig (but Sanji forbids Luffy from going in the kitchen while playing cause last time he used up all the butter) They win if one of them can hold Luffy down for ten seconds
Zoro is the one with the most wins cause Luffy always trusts him and Zoro takes advantage of that
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bettymylove · 4 months
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Hiii, just started following you, your work if amazing 👏 love it. I love smut but I love fluff as well. Was wondering if you could do a fluff for me.
Reader × Theodore nott
Reader is shy, sensitive and can't say no to anyone. Reader and Theo are already dating and he is super overprotective. One day when she's in class, a boy asks her to tutor him so she starts tutoring him, but during their lesson he starts touching her is inappropriately, she ends up leaving in tears(he didn't do much, he just touched her thighs then shouted at her when she complained). Theodore finds her crying and finds out why and beats the guy up till he has to visit a hospital. I know its long 😭 I just love jealous men
protect
pairing: theo nott x reader
content: read the ask, warnings: fighting, use of the word slut and whore, crying, inappropriate touching
a/n: I love jealous men too😭
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Theo had not one idea as to why you were with him. You were a complete sunshine, never said no to anyone and were by far the kindest human theo had ever met.
Though people try to take advantage of your kindness, Theo's always there to protect you. He hates seeing his girl unable to say no even when she wants to and so, he helps her when he can.
However on that particular Saturday morning, your boyfriend hadn't accompanied you to breakfast, running late as usual and you had been approached by a boy in your class.
He had taken the opportunity of the empty seat beside you, which you saved for Theo, and decided to sit on it. Mattheo looked at him with an amused expression, eager to see Theo's reaction.
Theo came stumbling into the great hall, no robe, tie askew, and eyes searching for his beloved. His eyes land upon you, along with your uncomfortable expression.
He sits beside Mattheo, "You've not said anything to this boy?" Theo looks at you while you nod your head at said boy once more and he gets up while having a mischievous smile on his face.
"You really think, if I had said something he would still be there?" Theo chuckled at the statement, getting up to finally sit beside his girlfriend.
"Morning darling, what was that about?" he had a toast in his mouth, hanging off. He was trying to find the butter and you were sure you've never seen a much cuter sight.
Your hands instinctively find his tie, adjusting it as you speak. "He wants me to tutor him this afternoon." You pat his tie one last time before returning to your breakfast.
Theo rolls his eyes at your naiveness and how you don't see that boy was flirting with you, but decided to not say anything.
Later that afternoon, you wished you were still with Theo when you were sitting in the library with the boy whose name you had forgotten by now was sitting way too close.
You had decided if he moved any closer you would say something, anything. His hand moved around your shoulders, awkardly pulling you in, while his other hand met your thighs and you pulled away.
Your pulling away didn't help because the hand around your shoulder only pulled you closer. "Please move away from me." You had finally let out.
"Why, cause you're a little slut, whoring yourself out for your little boyfriend?" His words hit you, is this how people perceived you?
You had finally broken free of his hold, pushing yourself up along with your bag and running towards your dorms.
You shut the door, threw your bag on the floor, and got in your bed. You hugged your knees to your chest and started bawling your eyes out.
It was evening now and Theo hadn't seen you, deciding to check up on you, he went to your dorm. Knocking slightly, he entered and immediately thoughts of worry filled him.
You had cried, that much was clear from your face, but he wanted to know why. He sat beside you and you immediately hugged him, starting to cry again.
"What happened darling?" He asked in the most gentle voice he could muster up. He was ready to kill whoever had done this to his girl, but first he needed her to calm down.
"That boy, from this morning he-" you choked up, remembering his words and his touch and feeling disgusted by it.
"What did that fucker do, did he touch you?" Theo was seething, his jaw was tensed, few of his veins were visible.
You nodded and continued, "He touched me here," You brought his hands to your thighs. "He called me a slut, who was whoring herself out for you" Your voice was heavy and you looked ready to cry again.
Theo pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, wiping your tears with it, and pulled you up on your feet. Getting your shoes, from beside your bed, he knelt and helped you put them on.
"Where are we going, Theo?" you asked while he held your hand and pulled you towards with him to his dorm, you had never seen him this angry.
"To show that idiot, whose girl he was messing with" Slamming the door to his dorm open, he went into his bathroom while Mattheo, Enzo, and Draco looked around in confusion.
Theo came out with a baseball bat, handing one to Mattheo who only grinned and yelled, "Hell yeah" at the sight.
Theo held your hand again, pulling you along with him once more but this time three more boys were accompanying you.
The boy was sitting at the table in the great hall, surrounded by his friends, Theo left your hand and kissed your forehead before pulling the guy backwards using his shirt.
He was on the ground, while all four of them were surrounding him, the boy's friends had ran after seeing exactly who had pulled him down.
"Do you really think, you will mess with my girl and I'll stay silent?" He asked, laughing slightly, swinging the bat over his shoulder and the guy had just started to utter some words before Theo's bat hit his leg.
He groaned out in pain, and you winced at the sight. All three boys had now begun hitting the boy with all their might.
Finally after a while, professor Snape had arrived to break off the fight, giving them all a week's worth of detention while carrying the boy to the hospital wing.
Theo's hand came up to clean his face while he walked towards you, putting your face in his hands he whispered, "I'll always protect you, no matter what" and all you did was smile.
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diejager · 6 months
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I love your Only Human fics 😭😭 I can’t help but think what Monster AU 141/Kortac would do if their only human got hurt during a mission….
A continuation maybe please?
Only Human pt3
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Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x reader
CW: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, gun violence, flash grenade go boom boom, explosion, tell me off I missed any. wc: 2.4k
Only Human masterlist
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previous
They fucked up, they really flicked up. It was a simple mission, simple enough that you were sent with only three operators. Alejandro with his witness, slinked between enemy lines, shooting up and creating chaos once he shifted, his large body ripping through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter. Gaz with his aerial insights, flew over trees and spotted the soldiers you were shooting through and giving pointers to where they split up and where they collected. And finally, Horangi, stalking between the buildings, jumping from shadow to shadow with a slow sway of his tail, pouncing on his prey with the stealth of a tiger. 
Laswell had promised that it was a quick in-and-out op, slipping through the village at night and taking out the leading figure of this hastily-made gang that was blocking the transport route between two important, allied towns. The shared intel was that it was a gang of ragtag rebels, raiding police stations within the mass, overwhelming the officers with their vast numbers of followers. They stole police equipment, vests, guns, batons, and ammunition, using them to power through the lines of officers and breaking through blockades built by the townsfolk. 
While they weren’t trained in military warfare or had prior training with specialised weapons, they had the advantage of numbers, overwhelming any joint forces with their vast numbers of rebels. It was nearly astounding how many people were being paid and supported by Russia's wealthy Ultranationalists wanting to disrupt the trading routes and hurt the opposing team by prying them of a source of gas and material. 
The few joint forces had slimmed down their numbers, leaving Task Force 141 to clean it up and take over their base of operation within the region. You were told that their numbers rounded a skeleton crew of twenty men, twenty-five at most. That’s why Price sent you four for quick and efficient disposal of the enemy. 
That’s what Laswell gave you, the information burned into your mind from habitual memorization to ensure that your team would be prepared, and yet the data was wrong. Gaz had reported twice the promised number, not as well armed as you were warned but their number brought a changing tide to your mission. You wanted to turn back, to regroup and form another plan, but everyone was already in place and calling them back could be as much of a risk of being caught as storming in. 
Perhaps that’s why you were all so careful and conscious of the dangers, moving in two, Alejandro and Horangi in one part and you walking under Gaz’s protective shadow. The initial plan was to box them in, working through both exits to snuff out any runaways and once you entered the compound, Gaz would drop down and lead ahead. 
That was the plan, until, of course, all hell broke loose. It was chaotic, they were trigger-happy and within untrained hands, their guns were as leather as a trained one with how quickly they spent their magazine, cycling through one and spraying the wall you used for hiding. Soap’s wild clean-up would’ve been extremely helpful in a time like this; Ghost’s hungry haze would’ve swallowed them all up, opening up a way for you to pass; and König’s reckless and unpredictable shift that sent him into a wild frenzy while he tore through the base. 
Unfortunately, they were back home, the little base they called their own when you first joined, yet you still had experienced and protective soldiers by your side, all special forces. Gaz led you with a strong hand and clear head, stopping at every corner to look at all sides before moving forward and you watched his back, looking out for any enemy rounding back. 
Your situation would be - at best - organised chaos, made from what you were given at the moment, faced with a group over a dozen times and without backup waiting behind. There were hushed orders and observations sent back and forth between your groups, cautious warnings on your side and growls from the other. Nick had been informed in case of any immediate evacuation and Laswell, of the sudden change in the plan. You did your best with what you had, leaving bleeding corpses in your wake, slumped over the bloodied floor and against the stained walls, but you hadn’t expected the rapid change of shift in the enemy. They weren’t such men with guns and knives, they were trained - albeit sloppy - in ferality and ruthlessness, jumping at you and Gaz without a second thought.
Every lunge was met with a bullet, rifles firing at the advancing numbers holding a gun, a knife or both, leaving you with a graze or scrape, the skin under your clothes bristled and bleeding. They flooded like moths to a flame, one taking the place of a fallen, and two other taking his place. You were pushed back to back, Gaz’s wings fluttering in stress between you, fighting the need to cover you in a protective shield of muscle and feather. 
“We’re compromised,” Gaz hissed into the mic, sending the message to any open coms on your connected line. “Victor-01, moving your way.”
“Copy,” Alejandro huffed.
Gaz tried leading you away, feet moving fast and steady around the halls you had to memorise for this Op. He tried to lead you safely, but they swarmed you like flies, appearing from every corner in an unending flood of shouting, thumping and firing. Gaz was bound to get hit at this rate, with his big wings and broader shoulders. It worried you that he’d take a bullet for you - you knew he would, as would the others - and get dangerously hurt. Through one door was a group waiting for you, gun trained forwards and ready to fire, but they were slow, sloppy, and they lacked the training and reflexes of a specialist. 
You had time to push Gaz through a door and into a room, you hid on both sides, hiding from the straight line of fire. You unclipped a flash from your belt, waving it at him to catch his attention. It did and his lips broke into a grin, wild and electric at your idea. You had him count down the seconds, his fingers lowering until he balled his fist, shaking it as you pulled the pin out and threw it down the hall. Veering away from the door, eyes closed tightly and hands around your ears, the flash grenade blew up with a loud, ear-piercing screech. It sent them into a blind panic, weapons falling from their hands to rub the burning pain in their cornea, ears deaf to your quick-moving steps towards them, down they went, like those behind you. 
Adrenaline pumped erratically through your veins, bubbling and warming your body to an uncomfortable heat that had you sweating under your gear. You turned another corner and you were closer to Alejandro and Horangi’s location, meeting up with them was your current objective, to regroup and take over the base in one group. They were just down the path, behind the sprinting men in jeans and t-shirts holding guns like it was a big, heavy toy. You could see their tense shoulders relax when they caught sight of you, guard still up and cautious, but glad that you were safe. 
“Hunter,” Horangi hissed, his figure trembling as his nose twitched under his mask. He stared at your shoulder, the damp jacket stained with your blood. “You broken?”
“No, the adrenaline’s keeping me going,” you nodded back, trying to soothe his worry. Being the 141’s medic, you knew the benefits of adrenaline, it numbed the pain, the cold and the burns, but once you calmed down, you’d feel every little scratch.
You limped out of the building, body leaning against Horangi for support, his tail curled around your thigh and body tense in a possessive mood. He kept glancing your way, his golden eyes swirling with worry, pupils small and attentive to every wince you made. He moved according to your pain, urging you to put more weight on him when you walked on your bad leg, where a bullet shot straight through your thigh, bleeding through the quickly put gauze you covered it with and wrapped tightly in bandages. You promised them that you’d properly patch yourself up in the helicopter while they watched before you worked on them. 
With your body riding off the adrenaline that kept you going for the past fifteen minutes, you jerked and winced when you walked on your left leg, the white bandage around your thigh staining red on the side. You were sure Horangi and Alejandro could smell your blood, or they'd been able to smell it before you even saw them, the irony tang wafting around them like a haze of their failure. The failure to let you get hurt and unable to properly protect you, you could feel the tenseness in their shoulders, their lowered head at your smile and the jerky movement when they moved around, seemingly pulling themselves back from doing something. 
Nikolai waved at your group, ushering you in from his seat, strapped safely with his headset on and communication clear between everyone. With a short affirm from Alejandro, Nik took off, the bird curving to the left when he turned west, towards the UK. You waited until the flight was stable, flying through the air softly and steadily before you opened up your pack, searching for items to clean and reward your wound until you returned to the infirmary. You checked your tourniquet, tightening it when you saw that it was slightly loose, ripping open the wrapping around your leg, you reapplied the gauze, adding pressure to it to stop it from bleeding even more. 
You winced and hissed under their watchful eyes, between Alejandro and Horangi, their tails swaying and occasionally curling around your forearm. Gaz, however much he’d like to sit beside you, to fuss and worry openly about your wounds, sat across from you, strapped in with his wings spread wide across the seats. 
“Looks rough, Охотник,” Nik called to the back, light glinting off his glasses. 
“Nothing new, Nik, you know that,” you replied through the coms, a lop-sided smile curling the corners of your lips.
He cackled, a full-belly laugh that had all of you smiling in your own ways. Nikolai was rambunctious, loyal and a big bear of a man. He was human, the other human in the Task Force apart from you (Laswell might’ve been the one sending you across the earth and gathering information, but she - regrettably - wasn’t truly a member.). 
“Да! I do!”
When you landed, the rest of the TF was already waiting outside, arms crossed and shoulders tense. It seemed they got the news of your Op, showing their displeasure with deep frowns and deeper glares, none directed at you or the hybrids, it was some sort of self-hatred and anger at the person that gave Laswell the intel, their promise of it being factual and not sending them any updates on the case. Laswell, herself, was fairly mad, her stressed face pulled sombrely down. 
Soap and Rudy rushed to you, voices low and tones raspy, they hovered near your group, fussing about the blood that caked Alejandro’s forehead, a slight graze from a rifle’s butt and other bruises from slamming into obstacles; Gaz’s slight pinch in the back from being slammed into a wall by a bulldozing enemy when he ran out of ammo; Horangi’s ripped sleeves, gashes bleeding lightly from attempts at slashing and stabbing knives by inexperienced hands; but what worried them the most was you, limping and hanging from Horangi’s shoulders. 
Your eyes were hooded, equal parts exhausted and blood lost, placing all of your weight on the Haetae hybrid. While your upper half was unscathed - apart from the slight bruises forming on your skin - your leg, wrapped tightly in a tourniquet and bandages drowned in red. The amount of red would’ve been worrying if they hadn’t known you, but you’ve survived far more dangerous and life-threatening wounds, bouncing back with revenge. As truthful as it was, it didn’t stop them from worrying. You might’ve been more resilient than most - hybrids credited their resilience to their human parent - you didn’t have the healing ability of hybrids or the immortality of spectres. 
“ ‘m fine, Rudy,” you smiled, so bright and reassuring when you were the wounded one. “Nothing a few stitches and rest won’t heal.”
“Si, but-”
“Doesn’t mean we’re not worried, love.”
Like his callsign, he walked in on your little group silently, peering over Rudolfo’s shoulders, his warm, brown hues meeting yours. His voice was strained with concern, croakier than when you left this morning, waving at them. Rodolfo moved over when Ghost brought his hand forward, Horangi passed you to him with careful and tender hands so that you could be brought to the infirmary without having to walk. You hooked your arms around Ghost’s neck, arms crossed lazily over his back and chin propped up on his shoulder. He held you against his chest, one arm under your ass and another carefully tucked under your knees, watching your wounded leg without touching it. 
You looked at Price and Laswell from your perch, their hushed discussion with shrugging shoulders and crossed arms, but neither looked pleased with the outcome of your mission. You blinked owlishly when you couldn’t find König beside them, head turning from side to side to find the 6 '10 Austrian hybrid, but you still couldn’t find him. Just as you were going to ask Ghost where König was, a hand reached out to grip your forearm, thick fingers softly rubbing your strained muscle. You were met with a veiled face when you turned, brilliant, red eyes stared at your wounded thigh in distaste, his mind throwing him into the scene of the moment, turning and ripping the men that dared harm you to pieces, bloodied and unrecognisable parts of a human. 
“Hey, König,” you called out, pulling him back from his violent daydream where his eyes turned crimson, glazed with bloodlust and rage, promising doom. “Do you want to come with us?”
“Ja,” he replied moments later, snapping to your face with blank eyes, now his regular, ice-blue colour. “To the infirmary first and mess all later. You need to eat and rest well to heal quickly, Schnucki.”
“What about the-”
“You need to rest, lovie. Let them deal with the debrief,” Ghost’s voice was stern and commanding, ending whatever protests you had. 
As if to prove his point, he turned to face Price, his head nudging you to look at your captain, the imposing and dominating figure of Price’s horned head, thick, swaying tail and powerful wing. Price replied with a quick nod, curt in a way that shut down any voice, landing the hammer on the gravel with a resounding boom. You sighed, grumbling lowly about them worrying too much about a flesh wound, exaggerating your condition (in your mind) and threatening them with insubordination that had your commanding officers glare your way.
next
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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sinswithpleasure · 3 months
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To-Do List: Cream & Coffee
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—------—
Thank @friskyriskywhisky for this fic. Without him, I'd never write Minju.
Kinks: Public Sex, Magical Mischief, Blasphemy (really, this fic is that).
—------—
Sometimes, you forget Minju is an angel. 
She’s an angel, of course, but she’s also an angel, in every sense of the word. As in, “be not afraid” angel, as in miracles type, heaven-born angel. She embodies purity, compassion, kindness, and all that is holy and good with… well, almost every action she takes. 
Of course, you’d questioned it before: “Almost? Aren’t angels perfect?” It’s a valid question, and Minju corrects you every time you mention it: “Not perfect—blameless. Also, the rules have relaxed a bit! That’s why I’m always around you humans!”
If your next question is about what exactly Minju isn’t good and holy about, she’s had an answer for that too, with a wink and a smile: “Everyone says I’m mischievous, so it’ll only be a while before you’ll find out~.”
And find out you have—thoroughly, even. Minju seems to orbit around you a lot, and you’ve been roped into her schemes one too many times, much of which bring far too much risk for you. However, there’s no denying the satisfaction those schemes bring though—Minju makes sure you benefit too, whenever she decides to pull one of her tricks. Win-win scenarios are her bread and butter, she says, with a little swish of her hand and soft glow from her eyes, because “a few heavenly miracles don’t hurt anyone”. Far too many times she’s used it to get both you and her out of trouble, and you swear she’s way too mischievous and curious for anyone’s own good. It’s this mischief of hers that leads you to constantly remind yourself that she’s celestial, even if she doesn’t carry herself like one.
As you sip your coffee, Minju’s fork clatters against her plate, and she leans back with her signature smirk. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s acting up again. 
“Yah, Minsik.” Minju calls for you. “I—”
“No, whatever it is, no.” You’re quick to shut her down. “I’m not about to do whatever it is you’ve thought up.”
“I didn’t even say what it was!” Minju’s pouting now, arms crossed over her letterman jacket, looking every bit like a petulant child. “You’re no fun.”
“That’s because every scheme you put me up to involves us doing something that could get us jailed.” 
“But I always get us out, don’t I?” Minju sulks, but it morphs into a grin quickly after. “And you can’t lie to me about how good I always make you feel when I make you try anything I think up.”
The memories instantly come flowing back—Minju on your bed, Minju on her knees, Minju on your lap, Minju bent over a desk, Minju against the wall. In some of these memories, Minju is naked, and in the others, she’s clothed in varying degrees. With these thoughts in your head, your body betrays your mind—your cock begins to harden in your pants, and you shift your legs to attempt to hide your bulge, even if Minju doesn’t have it in line of sight. 
“Yeah, I can’t, but what happened to ‘just having a normal afternoon drinking coffee and eating cakes’, Minju? We can’t even have that anymore?” 
“Oh, shut up, you.” Minju’s mischievous grin only grows bigger. “You can’t lie to me, you’re getting horny just remembering what we’ve done.”
“No I’m not.” You lean back in your chair, coffee in hand, taking a sip through the straw. Even if the effort is futile, you’d do it anyway just to spite Minju. 
Minju rises from her chair, and she slowly sashays around the table. You take advantage of this moment to ogle her thighs in her jeans—her body is nothing but perfect. She bends down right in front of you, her grin now stretching from ear to ear as she notes your reactions.
“Liar. You know I can tell when humans lie.” 
Minju leans in close to whisper her proposition.
“I think we should have some fun, Minsik.”
You sigh in resignation, then take the bait. “What kind of fun, Minju?”
“Well…” The angel stands back up and winks. “I’ve never had sex in a cafe before.” 
With a wave of her wrist, white light glows from her eyes, and the world around you ripples, as if it were water. You take a moment to enjoy the visual effects on the world around you. In that time, Minju closes the distance—she straddles you and plants herself on your lap, your bulge pressing right against her body. 
“Liar.” Minju repeats, smirking. “You said you weren’t horny.” She crosses her arms as she grabs the hem of her white tee, and you watch in barely restrained lust as the angel on your lap peels her shirt off her. As the cloth rises above her head, her petite, yet perfect breasts greet your eyes as she drops her shirt on the table behind her. Once again, no bra—the angel despises underwear, having “not needed any of it for the entire time I’ve been an angel”, something which you definitely have no complaints about. Minju rests her arms over your shoulder, and she grinds down on your bulge as she softly groans in pleasure. You join her in vocalizing your pleasure, all pretenses dropped, and you hold the angel steady by her hips as you grind into her too.
“It’s great to be an angel.” Minju sighs softly and bites her lip down on a particularly hard grind. “I can just cloak anytime and enjoy having sex, and no one would know.”
“You’re so corrupted, Minju.” You shift your hands up to caress the angel’s body, and she whines in pleasure when you cup one of her breasts in your palm, soft kneads and squeezes of her flesh drawing more sounds of pleasure from her. The angel only laughs, and she denies it with a wave of her wrist. “Heh, no I’m not. I just do what I enjoy doing, and no one’s going to stop me. Not the old man next to us with his newspaper, not the lady to your left working on her financial reports, not the baristas behind me, and most of all,” Minju’s pointer finger pushes against your chest as she taps you three times, “Definitely not you.” 
The angel is right—you’re not stopping her at all. Even as the old man to your right shakes his paper to get a better grip on it, even as the businesswoman to your left takes a glance in your direction, you’re not protesting at all when Minju’s hand trails down to undo your pants and zipper. You’re still fondling Minju’s bare breasts, and the angel leans in to push her lips against yours. No one can see you—the angel’s magic ensures that. She only lets the people see what she wants them to see, and right now, she wants them to see nothing at all. 
“Mm, so hard for me, that’s good.” Minju has her hand over your bulge now, having shifted down to your lap, and she only gives you a cursory few rubs before she withdraws her hand, to your disappointment. That doesn’t last long though—the angel begins to undo your pants, and she pulls your hard, twitching shaft out from underneath your zipper. She wraps her hand around it, soft slow strokes along your length drawing soft groans from your lips, groans that she silences with a hot kiss. Her tongue meets yours in the middle, and you pull her tighter against you, eager to feel her body against yours. However, Minju pulls herself back now, her weight leaving your lap as she gets off you. 
“Minju—”
“Shhh…” The angel giggles at the look of desperate need all over your face. “Give me just a second~.”
It happens in an instant—Minju is on your left one moment, and then in a blink of an eye, she’s on your right. The only difference between both of them is this: the Minju on your left seconds ago had her jeans still on, and the Minju on your right has them off. The angel is naked right next to you, her thighs glistening with her arousal as she straddles you again. It is at this point you notice that you’re naked too, your clothes and hers in a neatly folded pile on her chair. 
“This is cheating, Minju.”
“And who’s keeping score, Minsik?” Minju stands over you, her lips softly brushing against yours in a ghost of a kiss. “This little miracle doesn’t hurt anyone, does it? Especially if it gets us closer to having sex.” The angel lifts her legs one by one to fold them up over either of yours, almost as if to kneel right in your lap, her ankles supporting her weight with your help. Her knees are in the air next to both of your thighs. You instinctively grab Minju by the hips and ass while she balances herself, and she grins when she grabs your cock to brush it right against her labia, the moan torn from your lips exactly what she wants to hear.
“Mm, I love this part.” Minju exhales in stutters, the hot breath brushing against your lips. “The part where I drip all over the cock I’m about to fuck.”
And drip all over it she does. Minju coats your cock with a sheen of her slick, her hand helping to spread it all over with soft strokes once more. She takes a glance to see how aroused both you and her are, and the angel only giggles at your dazed expression of lust, pleasure, and anticipation when she looks back up. 
“Oh my God, Minju…”
“Hey, not in vain.” The angel jokingly chastises, as she always does. “I’ll smite you.”
“Do your worst,” is your challenge.
“That I will.” Minju lines you up with her hole, and in one stroke, she slams herself down on your cock. You moan out loud as Minju takes you to the hilt instantly. A loud whine of pleasure accompanies your moans as well, before Minju shakily breathes, “Just. Like. That.”
Just like that, she says. Just like that, you’re having sex with Minju, again, on her whim. The angel “smites” you over and over with her hips, engulfing your cock in her velvety, warm, tight cunt with every time she impales herself on your shaft. She takes to sex like a fish to water—you have no idea how, no idea why, and neither do you care or have ever cared. What you do care about right now is how she bounces herself on your cock, every stroke reaching deep into her as she fucks herself down on your length. Neither of you hide your moans as the world carries on around you—the cafe’s patrons are none the wiser about the sexual activities just inches away from them. This knowledge excites both Minju and you— as she fucks herself down on you hard, the almost-crazed joy displayed in her eyes from having such wanton public sex is mirrored in yours as well. Minju is a godsend—figuratively and literally—that has you able to do things you’ve only dreamed of in your wild fantasies, and you’re going to enjoy it for as long as you can.
“You’re hitting me right there every time, Minsik~!” Minju’s G-spot rubs against your shaft with every stroke of hers, and you thrust up in time with her as well. Your loud, vulgar exclamations of pleasure mix with Minju’s own, and the claps of her flesh against yours as well as the wet sounds of her pussy milking your cock only leave you both more and more aroused.
“Oh, fuck, Minju, fuck, you’re so tight, fuck!” The angel’s cunt massages your shaft, as if trying its best to coax your cum out of you as soon as possible. Her pussy is incredibly tight, and the pleasure you derive from it has you close to orgasm already. Minju is no better—she’s softly muttering about how close she is right next to your ear, her pussy drenching your cock and balls in her arousal, walls getting tighter and tighter as she gets close to her peak. 
“Fuck, Minsik, make me cum, make me cum together with you, make me cum all over your cock—”
From experience, you know Minju’s a talker, and her words only push you to thrust up into her harder, deeper, faster as you chase your high with her. The girl on your lap fucks herself on your cock in time with your thrusts, and both of you wrap your arms around each other however you can, pulling each other tight against the other as you hit your combined peaks simultaneously. 
“Oh, Minju, I—”
“Minsik~!”
Neither of you bother holding back your moans as you orgasm together. Minju’s hips buck against your faltering thrusts, her juices flowing down all over your lap as jets of squirt drench your lower half. Even as your hips stutter, you keep fucking into Minju as well as you can—burst after burst of thick white cum shoots deep into the angel’s tight cunt, and with every thrust, you push your load deeper and deeper into her, prolonging the pleasure both of you enjoy. The carnal pleasure seems to last forever, and both of you hold each other tightly as waves after waves of it wash over your bodies. Both of you make a mess where you sit—Minju’s juices mix with your overflowing load on the chair and the floor beneath you, and the air smells of sex. You hug the angel in your embrace as your highs subside, and she pushes herself off you urgently, though the smile on her face promises she means no offense.
“Don’t get mushy on me, fucker.”
“Shut up.” You help Minju off you, and your cock twitches when you fully exit her—thick drops of cum fall from her freshly fucked hole onto your shaft, and you can’t help but groan when you see it. 
“Already wanting a round two, Minsik? We can make it happen.” Minju giggles as she reaches a hand beneath to collect your flowing excess, then raises it to lick it all off. “You always taste so nice.”
“Oh my God, shut up, Minju…” You chuckle to yourself, the corrupted angel joining you as she grabs her clothes. With a wave of her wrist, both you and her are clothed, the mess beneath you cleaned up, and you’re both right back where you started—a normal afternoon drinking coffee and eating cakes.
“This was fun, Minsik.” Minju’s eyes flash with mischief once more. “I wonder where we can do it next…”
984 notes · View notes
luveline · 4 months
Note
hello lovely, I was wondering if I could ask for a soft remus request. maybe loser!reader where someone made them feel invisible and remus comforts them? I hope that makes sense ily <3
ily ty for requesting!! <3 fem, 1.3k
“Come on, poppet,” Sirius says in one of his teasing tones as he puts a hefty looking glass of pale ale in front of you, “cheer up and get sloshed.”
“Oh, I really don’t want to drink tonight,” you say, surprised he’d get you something. 
“That’s for me. This,” —he puts a short glass to the pale ale— “is for you. From him.” 
You look up from the dark table to spy said him across the way. Remus stands behind the bar with a relaxed smile, arms holding himself up and biceps just that little bit tight against his sleeves. You send him a shy smile. 
It’s an ice cold mix of your favourite. You send him another smile as you drink it, not sure how to cope with the fact that he’s still looking at you when you do. He raises his eyebrows a touch before a customer steals his attention. 
“He should really quit,” James says happily. “He’s enabling me.”
You push the bowl of roasted peanuts toward him. “Abstinence,” you say. You’re still feeling wobbly, not quite happy, but better to move forward then dwell on things. Plus, Remus’ nice smile reminds you that he’s on your side.
“Remus gives you a Help to Stop card every time you buy a second round,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. 
“But Marlene lets me drink as much as I want.” James waves at her. She blows him a kiss from the table she’s bussing two chairs over. “Bad place. Takes advantage of me. And there’s too much riff raff.”
You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Right.”
They chat to each other enough to make up for your silence and Remus’ absence. He’ll be off any minute now, joining you for a quick drink if he’s awake enough to manage it before you head home. You can’t bring yourself to watch him, knowing he’ll be chatting, giving pretty girls polite smiles and prettier boys their refills. He can be charismatic when he wants to be. He’s a natural flirt deep down. You hope he doesn’t flirt with other people. 
He wouldn’t. 
Or maybe he would? You’re not exciting like that. 
“Penny for your thoughts, lovely girl?” 
He says it quietly, pressing his pet name into the side of your head as he slips into the chair next to yours. Suddenly he’s here. He sneaks up on you too often. 
“Not worth the penny,” you murmur back. 
“I don’t think that’s true. Do you want another drink? I’ve closed my line, but I–”
You shake your head, not having finished the first one he sent over. He smells like the too sweet cloy of beer, but his breath is minty on your cheek. “Fine, be that way. You make it hard to spoil you.”
“Yuck.” 
“Ew,” he agrees. Remus gives the top of your shoulder a gentle shake. “Not feeling well?” 
“She was attacked, Moons, I told you this,” Sirius says.
You glare at him as Remus says, “Mm. You okay?” 
“I wasn’t attacked, that’s– you know. It was the opposite of an attack. I was–” Ignored. You attempt to shove it down even as the memory surges up, the heat of knowing you’d been deemed a loser, the shrug off, the giggling. “Sirius.” 
“What? If I didn’t tell him he would’ve been pissed off with me and you know I can’t afford butter right now. I need my toast fix.” 
James and Sirius are nice, good guys, but Remus is the only person who can really make you feel better. He knows it. You all know it. But it’s too embarrassing to divulge the details of what happened. You’d told Sirius and James in a strange flustered panic as you sat down, and you don’t fancy telling the story again. 
In the bathroom, there had been a group of girls taking photographs. You didn’t know them, but they were around your age, beautiful, and giggling at not being able to fit in one photograph. 
I can take it, you’d offered. That way you can all be in the frame? 
One girl smiled at you but the rest didn’t even look up. You know you’d said it loudly. You seem to have this effect on people. Total invisibility. 
“Can’t afford butter, can’t afford his own pints,” Remus says, reaching under the table to touch your thigh. His fingertips dig into the softer part of the inner thigh as he brushes downward to your knee. “Next I’ll be paying his rent.” 
“It’s the least you could do,” James says. “Do you think they’ll put the rugby on if I ask?” 
Remus stands and beckons for you to come with him. “Where are we going?” you ask. 
“Home?” He holds out his hand for you to take. “The shop first.” 
He twines your fingers and waves to the boys. You’ll see them again in an hour or two when they come home, but as soon as you and Remus leave the pub, you might as well be all alone in the world. It’s dark as pitch despite the early evening hour and twice as cold, wind like needles thrown at your hands. Remus puts his open hand out to pull your empty one into his side. It’s a funny way to walk. 
“Are you terribly upset?” 
“Mm… no,” you decide. 
“James said you,” —his voice turns soft and careful— “looked a little bit welled up. Like you might cry. It’s okay if you were upset.” 
“It’s embarrassing.” 
“Dove, if you were to be believed, everything is embarrassing. But you’ve never done anything to be embarrassed of.” You take your hands back. “Oh, except that.” 
You laugh as he snatches your hands back, your laughter whipped away with the mean winds as you make your way through the alley that leads to the small corner shop on the way home. “No one sees me like you,” you say. 
“People are fucking rude,” he says with a shrug. “They could’ve at least said they were fine.” 
“I don’t know if it’s rude–”
“It is–”
“I’m a stranger and they were probably fine without my help. But it was weird to have nobody say anything. It made me feel so silly.” 
“If it were you,” Remus says, weight in his words as glances at you from the side, his hair dancing away from his ears, “you would’ve looked them in the eyes and said no, thanks. You would’ve acknowledged them. It’s not kind to treat people like they don’t matter.” 
“I don’t matter.” 
Your weak tone slows his pace. 
“I mean, not to them,” you correct. 
Remus slides an arm over your shoulder, humming from his chest. “Yes, you do,” he says, kissing your cheek, “of course you matter. You’re everything to the people who love you. You’re more than that to me. Please don’t think otherwise.” He presses his lips and chin to your temple. “Yeah?” he asks quietly. “You matter, dove, you do.”
“Why does this happen to me so often?” you ask in a similar quiet. 
“You’re not like everyone else.” He grins at you. “We’re not like other people. Thank god.” His lips press again to your cheek. “I hope all their pictures turn out shit.” 
“Sorry if I’m overreacting.” 
“I think you’re underreacting. I think I should go back and have them banned.” Remus gives you one last kiss before he steps back, ushering you down the pavement to the neon lights of the corner shop. “But I’m going to buy you some chocolates instead. Is that alright? Should I go back?” 
He starts walking back the way you came. You catch tight to his hand and force him into the shop before he can get too far away. 
682 notes · View notes
ohtobeleah · 6 months
Text
Scream // Jake Seresin
🔪 Summary: When home alone on Halloween Eve, someone keeps calling you from an unknown number. As fear begins to consume you and panic builds as you run for your life, the masked stranger really takes advantage of the pretty girl he’s decided to hunt down.
🔪 Warnings: Mask kink, CNC (consensual non-consent) knife play, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), choking, hair pulling, dirty talk, degradation, creampie, rough sex. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Ghost Face likeness/cosplay.
🔪 Word Count: 7.6k
🔪 Author Note: Happy Halloween ya filthy animals. Hope you enjoy this X-rated Ohtobeleah Halloween Special! Concepts are open for this one too! Especially with that ending….
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Spooky season. It had to be your favourite time of year. The fall brought so many changes and flavours and aesthetics you just couldn’t resist. From the pumpkin spiced everything’s to the burnt embers and oranges that littered the trees that lined the sidewalks. To the overconsumption of old Halloween classics and seasonal house decor that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 
Halloween was and always would be, yourself favourite holiday, and for that you thanked the pagans for their belief system many centuries ago. Without them? Why else would you have an excuse to sit in your living room with what felt like an endless supply of single wrapped sweets and chocolates that you should very well have been saving for the trick or treaters that would be roaming the streets of suburban Texas the following night. 
“Is that how you wanna spend your summer?” You’d seen IT probably a million times before, but it was always a good start. “Inside of an arcade?” Eddie Kaspbrak asked little Richie Tozier as you popped another Reese's peanut butter cup into your mouth. 
“Beats spending it inside your mother.” You couldn’t help but to say the line out loud knowing exactly what comeback was coming around the corner. Like clockwork little Richie said the same thing he always said and you laughed like an adolescent. Yeah, the IT Saga was always a good place to start before moving into the Halloween Collection and Scream Series. 
You were what some would call ‘Basic’ But to you basic was better than being overly ambitious and lacking in complete pop culture appreciation for the movies that were, in your very not so professional opinion, the backbone of the spooky season film industry. 
In need of another glass of Prosecco or perhaps something a little stronger and gin based, you made your way into the kitchen after you’d paused your movie. The house smells of cinnamon and pumpkin, there was no escape from the ever present and consuming aroma of fall as you took a moment to decide if you were going to finish that bottle of Prosecco or move on to the big boys. The gin sours. After all, you were home all alone on Halloween Eve and there was nothing stopping you from getting a little tipsy in the quiet and comfortable silence of your humble abode. 
Even your Flyboy boyfriend, Jake Seresin, wasn’t coming home. The original plan had been he was taking some much needed leave to come home and spend two full weeks back in the arms of the woman he loved so dearly. But things changed, life happened, and all of a sudden you were facing the reality that you would be alone for the Halloween holiday head on. 
You couldn’t blame him, it was just the way the job went sometimes. Things came up, plans changed overnight and soon enough, four entire months had passed since you’d last seen Lieutenant Commander Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, or as he was more affectionately known to you as, Flyboy.
It was just the way the pumpkin spiced cookie crumbled this time around, but Jake had promised the minute Robert Floyd was back on deck after his four weeks of leave for paternity were over, he was racing back to you. 
In the middle of your silent thoughts on when you’d get to see your boyfriend of three years again, your phone began to vibrate back on the coffee table where you’d left it. The ringer had been silent—but the vibration against the glass was all you needed to hear as you padded back into the living room. Still drinkless and very much sober, something that needed to change very quickly if you were going to enjoy your time alone. 
You anticipated the call to be Jake, but when the caller ID didn’t read ‘Flyboy’ with one of those obnoxious pink hearts next to it, you frowned. All that was staring back at you was an unknown number, one you hadn’t seen before. One that didn’t look familiar or resemble any contact you might have accidentally deleted from your contacts. 
You’d heard what could become of curious minds, but that didn’t stop you from swiping the pad of your thumb across the vibrating screen before you held your phone up to your ear. 
“Hello?” You asked cautiously, already wondering who could be calling you this late who didn’t know you. 
“Hello?” A voice you didn’t recognise mimicked your greeting. 
“Yes?” You grimaced at your own stupidity for a second as you made your way back into the kitchen. 
“Who is this?” The man on the other end of the phone asked like he wasn’t the one who called you. 
“Hmm—Well who are you trying to reach?” You tried to remain polite, for all you knew as you reached up for the bottle of gin, it truly could have been a mistake. A wrong number situation if you will. 
“What number is this?” The man asked, a little more confused. 
“Well what number are you trying to reach?” Your patience was going a little thin, but nevertheless you remained polite. 
“I don’t know.” The man on the end of the line sounded as if he shrugged with a cocky little smirk. Was this some sort of prank call? 
“I think you have the wrong number.” As if you were going to play along. Prank calls around this time of year were a dime a dozen and you just weren’t in the mood for childish antics. 
“Do I?” He asked, almost shocked, like he knew that he had the right number all along. Because he did. 
“It happens.” You shrugged it off with a quick eye roll, silently masking your annoyance. “Take it easy man.” You ended the call with a quick sigh and placed your phone on the counter as you went about making yourself a stronger, more appropriate beverage. The night was still somewhat young and you wanted a buzz. But then, once again, your phone rang with that same unknown number. At first you weren’t going to answer, but something inside you told you it could just be one of Jake’s friends pulling a prank. 
“Hello?” You tried to mask the annoyance in your tone but it must have come across as clear as day as you answered the phone. Same unknown number, same smug voice. 
“I’m sorry—I guess I dialled the wrong number.” The man on the other end sounded like he smiled through his words. 
“So why’d you dial it again?” It was a genuine question, why would someone who dialled the wrong number dial it again? On purpose. 
“To apologise.” The man replied rather quickly as you worked to pour yourself a rather strong shot of gin. It was going straight into the shaker. 
“Well consider your apology accepted.” How stupid was the guy? “Goodbye now—“
“Wait, wait—don’t hang up.” He nearly begged, you could hear the desperation in his voice, the need to keep you on the line. What was this weirdo playing at? 
“Why would I not?” You frowned, stilling your movements to pounder this entire situation. Who the fuck was this guy? What did he want? Did you know him? Was this some sort of prank? 
“Because I wanna talk to you for a second.” Oh okay, now you got it.
“They’ve got numbers for that kinda shit.” You chuckled to yourself under your breath. “I ain't that kinda girl.” You didn't even bother saying goodbye this time, you simply pressed the end call button and went about making yourself a drink. 
By the time you got settled back on the couch amongst a sea of throw blankets and halloween themed pillows, the TV had dimmed. If anything that was a clear indication as to how much time you had actually wasted talking to that random creeper on the phone. 
As you got settled, the buzzing vibration of your phone on the coffee table scared the ever living Christ from you. You groaned when you saw it, that same unknown number. With a huff, you answered. 
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” Your heart nearly sunk at the harshness the man used as you held your phone up against your ear. 
“Who the hell is this?” You frowned again, this time you weren't playing games. You’d spent enough time entertaining this lunatic and now it was time to get to the bottom of who the fuck was messing with you.
“You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine.” The man chuckled to himself as he watched you get up off the lounge and slowly approach the nearest window to have a cautious look outside.
“I don’t think so.” The only thing you could see were the small pumpkin lights that boarded the front porch as they softly illuminated the stone in an orangey hume. Besides those small plastic pumpkin lights? There was nothing but darkness until the street. 
“What’s that noise?” The man asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He sounded far too intrigued by you and your surroundings. 
“I’m trying to watch a movie, now would you quit calling me?” You hissed through a huff as you made your way back to the couch. You were going to have to rewind your movie now, completely having lost track of where you were up to because of this lunatic. 
“What movie is it?” This game was becoming old and cheap, you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes as you sat back down and fixed the fuzzy grey blanket that was one of Jake’s favourites. God you missed him, wished he was here. “The one you’re trying to watch?”
“IT, Chapter One.” There was a sharp, get to the point, I’m over this damn conversation tone in your voice as you picked up the remote to rewind the movie. 
“Oh so it’s a scary movie?” The man sounded as if he raised an eyebrow at your explanation. 
“Well I tell ya what Sherlock Holmes—“ Once again, you weren’t trying to be nice, so the sarcasm dripped from your mouth like liquid candy. “You’re onto something there.” 
“Do you like scary movies?” He prolonged the question rather politely, but you didn’t miss the way his voice dropped an octave as your heart quickened inside your chest. 
“I do—“ Your house was far too quiet for your liking as you spoke on the phone to this complete stranger. You’d all of a sudden lost all interest in your movie as you looked back to the front door. Did you lock it? 
“What’s your favourite scary movie then?” 
“I’m not sure, there’s a few that I could choose.” In an overprotective manner you walked back to the front door to check if it was locked. It was. 
“Oh come on now, you’ve gotta have a favourite scary movie.” The man asked as he watched you walk around your house to check all the locks on all the windows and back door. “What comes to mind?”
“Fine, Halloween—“ None of your attempts to secure your humble abode would avail to anything. “You know, with the guy in the white mask that walks around stalking babysitters.” Because the man you were currently talking to was already inside your home. The home you shared with your loving, cock sure, flyboy boyfriend who was still in damn San Diego. 
“Yeah, I know it.” The man replied softly, he was just trying to keep you on the line. 
“So—what’s your favourite? Since you needed to know mine so desperately.” It even surprised you, but before you could stop yourself from entertaining this creeper any further the words had already escaped. You mentally had to slap yourself across the face for that one. That one was all on you. 
“How about you guess?” The man chuckled as he watched you walk back from the back door to the living room where once again, you sat back down on the couch. 
“Is it Nightmare on Elm Street?” Why oh why were you doing this to yourself? 
“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?” The man sounded like he had a smile on his face, like he was enjoying this a little too much. Like he was just waiting for the right moment to come around. 
“Yeah, Freddie Kroger.” There was an ever increasing pit in your stomach that wouldn’t go away, something wasn’t right about this entire interaction. Who the fuck was this guy and why was he calling you on Halloween Eve. 
“Freddie, yeah that’s right, I guess I do like that movie, it’s pretty scary, don’t you think? 
“Well, the first one was but the rest sucked.” Again, why the fuck were you entertaining this guy. 
“So—you gotta boyfriend?” There it was, the last of many red flags. The first three being the late night unknown phone calls.
“Why? Are you gonna ask me out on a date, Mr. Cold Call guy?” A little teasing wouldn’t do any harm you thought to yourself as you popped a piece of candy into your mouth. 
“Maybe—“ The line went silent for a moment as your heart rang in your ears. “So? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“I do—“ You didn’t even need to lie, you did in fact have a very loved, very attractive, very not here at the moment boyfriend. “So, unfortunately for you there’s not gonna be a date.” 
“How could there ever be a date when you still haven’t told me your name?” 
“Why do you wanna know my name?” The next few seconds of time slowed down into nothing as your heart sank into your stomach and your head rang in fear. The man you’d been talking to with the rough voice and the polite responses had you turning seven colours of bad shit as he spoke. 
“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at—“
“What did you just say?” You shot up off the couch as you looked around your home frozen in fear. 
“I said I wanna know who I’m talking to.” The man tried to plan it off cool, calm and oh so collected but he knew he’d been heard and heard correctly. 
“That’s not what you said.” You could feel your heart hammering against your chest like it was trying to escape, but your feet refused to move. 
“What do you think I said?” He egged you on as you heard what sounded like footsteps coming from the laundry and tears began to well in your eyes. 
“Look, I gotta go, this is starting to get fucking creepy and my boyfriends gonna be home any minute.” The man on the end of the line could hear the shake in your voice as you tried to hang up and get out of this situation. He chose to play on your fear a little more. 
“Wait, I thought we were gonna go on a date?” He questioned rather quickly as you tried to regulate your breathing and get your feet to move. This wasn’t happening, this was like the beginning of some slasher 90’s horror movie where the ignorant girl gets killed for not using her brain.
“Nah—you’re dreaming.” You pulled the phone away from your ear but froze in fear when you heard the man scream down the phone at you. 
“Don’t you fucking hang up on me.” He spat with venom in his tone. 
“Listen asshole—“ You spat back as you finally let the anger overtake the fear inside you. 
“No you listen here you little bitch—“ He argued back as he watched you storm into the kitchen looking for a weapon to defend yourself with, only then did you realise the knives in the knife block had all been removed. “Hang up on me and I’ll gut you like a fish!” 
“Is this some sort of sick joke to you?” It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. God you wished Jake was here right now, he would have told you not to answer an unknown number. 
“More like a game—“ You should have listened to the little voice of his that lived in your mind. You never should have answered the phone. “Can you handle that—Y/n?” The way he said you named made all the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention. 
“Can you see me?” You asked as you looked out the window once more, when there wasn’t an immediate response you growled into the phone. “Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police—“
“I don’t think they’re gonna make it in time sweetheart.” The man chuckled rather menacingly and it made your blood boil. “But they’ll definitely get here with just enough time to see what your insides look like.” 
“Ahh!” The doorbell rang and you swore your heart nearly exploded when it did. “Who’s there!” You shouted as you back away, screaming and crying into the phone. “Who’s fucking there!”
“You should never say who’s there, don’t you watch scary movies?” The man chuckled. “It’s a deathwish.”
“You’ve well and truly had your fun, now please—leave me alone.” You whimper for mercy, this was all too much. 
“Or else what?” The man asked curiously, he wanted to know exactly what you were going to do about all this. He was, after all, the one with the upper hand. 
“Or else my boyfriend will be here any second and he’ll be pissed when he finds out what cruel sick bastards been harassing me!”
“Isn’t he outta town?” How did? How the hell did he know? Had you told the mystery man fucking with you. 
“No!” You denied the fact that Jake was out of town, still stuck on base in San Diego when he should have been here. “No he’s not, and he’s big and fucking jacked and he flys fucking military planes for a damn living and he’ll kick the ever living shit out of you!” You shouted into your phone as you backed away from any door and window you could possibly get away from. Spinning around to make sure you had good enough vision of the whole house. 
“Oh yeah?” The man laughed on the other end of the line. “Sure, I’m shaking in my boots honey.” There was no question he could tell he was scaring you beyond belief, he’d watched you for the better half of five minutes frantically rush around the house locking all the doors and windows. “His name wouldn’t happen to be Jake? would it?” This was going to be so much fun. 
“How do you know his name?” There was a clear whimper in your voice as tears streamed down your cheeks. Fear was caught in your throat like a ball of wax, choking you completely. 
“Turn around—“ Slowly, you hung up the phone you held with a vice grip and turned around. To your absolute horror, there he was, the man who had been on the phone with you. Only you recognised the outfit with ease—it was a GhostFace costume. A really good one too. One that wasn’t from Dollar General the night before Halloween. This one had been thought out, the costume had intent and it was detailed. 
“Boo.” Was all he said as he took a step towards you. “Aw look at you.” He chuckled to himself as he approached and you remained still in complete and utter fear. “A little scared are you?” 
“How—how did you get inside my house?” It was a stupid question to ask, but as the man in the GhostFace mask approached you, you felt like you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. 
“You looked me in?” He simply explained as he showed you a shape, clearly brand new knife. “Now we’re all alone, with no one to interrupt.” It was slow, but the man behind the mask moved the knife closer and closer to your chin until he was using the knife's edge to tilt your chin up. 
“I—“ Before you could speak, the man brought the knife down by his side and tilted his head. The silence that followed was all consuming as he just stared at your frozen, shaking and clearly terrified state. 
“Y/n?” He growled from behind the mask, all you did was stare at the mask. That all consuming, all encompassing mask that made your heart beat so hard inside your chest you swore your sternum was about to break “Run.” Was all he barked and that’s all it took for your flight or flight to kick in. 
“Help!” You shouted as you turned in the opposite direction and ran towards your front door. “Help me! Someone!” The masked man was right on your heels with heavy strides that made the timber flooding of your home creak with anticipation and excitement. 
Oh to be hunted, oh to be caught. 
You tried your best to get the front door unlocked in time but you just weren’t quick enough, or perhaps being caught was exactly what you wanted to happen. Just as you opened the front door and took two strides out onto the front porch—an all encompassing arm wrapped itself around your waist and the other wrapped itself around your mouth. 
Your eyes shot out of your skull as you felt yourself being dragged back inside your house. Your feet slipped under the anxiety of it all and soon enough you were on the ground being dragged back across the living room by the man in the GhostFace mask. 
“What’s the matter darlin’ I thought you said your boyfriend would be home any minute?” The man teased as he manhandled you up by your hair, forcing you up to your knees as your own hand came up to grip around his wrist, giving him two very firm squeezes in a row. Green, you were emerald green and everything in between as you clenched your teeth together and let your tears fall free. “I don’t see him anywhere?” 
It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, the feeling of being completely overpowered by someone. Being told you had no control, no say. 
“Fuck. You.” You spat as the man worked to pull off the black cloak he was wearing, revealing under a simple outfit of dark blue jean, a nice brown belt that matched the leather of his boots and a white-T. 
“That’s exactly what you’re gonna do.” You didn't register what that meant at first, but as you watched the man in the mask unbuckle his belt with one hand as he held onto your hair tightly with the other, that's when you started to feel the all too familiar heat pooling between your legs. 
“No!” You shouted as you tried to rip your hair out of his tight grasp. “No! Get away from me!” Kicking and screaming you tried your best to free yourself from your captor's hold, but it was to no avail. 
“My cocks been aching for your mouth since I saw you pop that candy into it.” There was a distinct primal need dripping from every word the masked man spoke as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down ever so slightly to reveal what you had been anticipating since before your phone rang for the first time that night. “Now you’re gonna suck me off like a good fucking girl before I gut you.” The threat could’ve been taken suggestively or literally, but as the man pumped his entire fist around the throbbing velvet length right in front or your face, you could have sworn you drooled. But you couldn't break character, not yet, it was far too early and you wanted to see just how far this could actually go before you had to tap out.
“Get the fuck away from me!” You turned your face to the right to try and save yourself from the ever looming sexual act you knew you were about to perform. Pre-cum oozed from the throbbing tip that looked exactly like the colour of your boyfriend's lips. A mix between pink and red, the perfect soft flesh colour that you adored. It looked just as pretty on his cock, but you would tell him that, not right now. 
Not when he was dressed up as your favourite Ghost Face Killer for Halloween Eve. 
“Uh uh uh–” His voice still sounded like his, but with the mask it muffled the familiar twang you had leant to love. Without that comfort this felt all too real, you weren't going to lie and say you weren't a little scared. But that's exactly what you had asked for when Jake had agreed to do this for you. To play into one of your biggest and longest standing sexual fantasies. “Don't you turn that pretty mouth away from me, we’re just getting to know each other.” 
“I'm not sucking your dick.” You hissed through gritted teeth as the masked man crouched down a little further and used his free hand to squish your cheeks together as you kneeled before him. “Fuck you!” 
“You have two options here.” He growled from behind the mask, if you looked close enough, you could see those familiar lips of his behind the darkness. “Either you do what I say, everything, without a fucking fuss–” There was a very distinct pause that the masked man made you sit in contemplation in before he told you your second option. The one he knew you wouldn't like very much. “Oh i'll just kill you, right here right now, no one will hear you scream, no one will know who did it, you’ll become a forgotten first kill because let's face it sweetheart, no one really gives a shit unless you're a final girl.” 
There had to be someone psychologically wrong with your brian and how it was hard wired to experience pleasure, because in that moment, in that very millisecond of time, your core throbbed at the thought of being used against your very willing will. The idea of consensual non consent had been brought up a few times, by you of course. Jake took a little while to come around. He wasn’t too keen on the whole idea of forcing himself on you, he wasn’t sure how it all worked, but once he understood the concept, once he understood how to act and how to communicate while you were deep, deep in that subspace scene he knew you loved, it became as easy as riding a bike for him to please you. 
“Well?” It was like he could see the cogs turning inside your mind as your eyes never left his from behind the mask. “What’s it gonna be?” When you didn’t answer and instead involuntarily shook in his grasp, Jake took a split second to check in on you. He stood up slowly, letting the hand that had once been squeezing your cheeks caress the side of your face as he pulled you closer to his hardened sex by your hair. “What colour?” 
“Green.” You replied and within a second, Jake had made your mind up for you and was guiding his tip between your lips. 
“Suck my dick sweetheart, come on, be a good girl for me.” It was hard to pretend to protest, but you tried to keep your mouth shut until Jake was gripping your hair a little tighter until you gasped at the pain. “That’s it, good fucking girl.” 
With eager hips Jake growned at the feeling of your mouth taking him in, so warm and tight around his throbbing girth. The mask he wore, the one that seemed to get you off to the heights of heights was humid from his open mouth breathing. But like hell was he about to ruin this roll play, he’d rather pass the fuck out than ruin the illusion the both of you had so perfectly orchestrated. 
“Oh god your boyfriend’s a lucky guy isn’t he?” You couldn’t help but to look up as the man in the mask looked down at you. Fuck—your panties were soaking, arousal pooled between your folds as you felt the very tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 
The eye contact was intense, you knew it was Jake but something about that damn mask had your head spinning so violently that your eyes watered with fear and need. You wanted to fight, to run, to fake the unwillingness to cooperate just to see how far Jake would go. 
“Don’t fight it baby—“ He growled as you strained to stop your head from bobbing up and down his length. “You’re doing such a good job, fucking whore of a thing aren’t you?” The feeling of his slightly calloused hands keeping your head right where he needed it to be was pure pleasure—being used like this, being told what to do even if you didn’t want to do it. “Fuck look at those tears, what are they for huh?” 
The man in the Ghostface mask, your boyfriend, Jake, dragged his thumb across your cheek to collect the tears that fell as he fucked your face to a rhythm that had him weak in the knees. 
“Ohhh god I’m so glad I didn’t decide to kill you straight away. Stupid girl—“ He went on to say as the tip of his hardened and throbbing cock bashed against your throat, making you gag around him before he held you still. He made sure that you couldn’t breathe, not while you were choking on him and only him. “Maybe this will teach you not to answer unknown numbers, there’s some fucked up people in this world sweetheart.” He teased as you pushed against his jean clad thighs, trying to push him away so that you could feel the sweet relief of oxygen returning to your lungs. “What did I just fucking say huh!?” 
“Let me ggoo—!” You screamed as the man in the mask pulled himself out of your mouth and let you go. He watched with a curious held hilt as you crawled away crying and gasping for air. “Get away from me!” 
Jake pumped his hand up and down his shaft a few laboured times before he stuffed himself back into his jeans and went after you with heavy strides. You hadn’t gotten far, but oh how thrilling and invigorating was it to be hunted in your own home. 
“Gee that boyfriend of yours is running real behind on schedule isn’t he?” The man in the mask chuckled as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were hiding just behind the countertop. “Come out, come out wherever you are.” He cooed childish as he stepped slowly, the floorboard squeaked under his boot as he did so. “Y/n, I know you’re in here sweetheart, why don’t you come out so I can cut you up.” 
You were careful not to make a sound as you placed your hands over your mouth and pulled your knees up close to your chest. Every second that passed? Your heart threatens to break out of your body. You knew deep down that the guy in the mask was Jake, but he was doing this a little too well. 
“You wanna play psycho killer?” You mumbled under your breath. You really didn’t know how you were going to get away, but you knew that the man in the mask was about to come around the corner and see you hiding clear as day. “Fine!!” 
As soon as Jake rounded the corner he was met with you first to his stomach with enough force that it had him doubling over. His moment of weakness gave you five seconds to run out of the kitchen and straight up the stairs. The plan all along has been to eventually end up in your bedroom. 
As you ran down the hall towards your bedroom, the man in the mask was quick to catch up. After all, this man was a highly skilled Naval Aviator who was fighting fit. You never stood a chance at getting away. 
“Ahhhh!” When you saw him in the mirror standing right behind you as you looked for a place to hide, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. This was what it was like to be hunted down, used, tormented. 
“What’s the matter Y/n?” The man teased as he tilted his head and stepped towards you, pointing the knife he held in his hand your way. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 
“Leave me alone!!” The sound that came from you was something straight out of a horror movie as the man stepped closer and closer, completely ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop.
“Get on the bed—“ Was all he demanded as he pointed the knife to the mattress. “I said, get on the fucking bed!” 
“You’re gonna have to force me or kill me because I’m not letting you touch me again.” The standoff continued in the all consuming silence of your bedroom as your core throbbed and soaked your delicate panties. This was it, all the talks, the explanations, the ideas. They all boiled down to this moment. 
You trusted Jake Seresin with your life, so much so you let him in on a fantasy of yours, a kink so deep and nasty that you’d never told any of your ex boyfriends about. You didn’t trust them to do this with you. But Jake? Ten fold. 
“Colour?” It would be one of the last check in points before you got exactly what you wanted, what you so desperately craved. Jake remained in character as he once again looked you right in the eyes through his mask. 
“Green.” At your whimperious admission, Jake lunged at you with so much force it truly knocked the wind right out of your lungs. He had you pinned on the mattress within seconds of your admission. “GET OFF ME!” 
“Shut the fuck up.” The man’s hand came up to tightly wrap about your throat, squeezing the sides to restrict your breathing. “Now listen here and listen good, I’m gonna fuck you real good, and after you cum all over me—I’m gonna make sure no one ever finds out what happened to poor sweet Y/n when she was murdered in her own damn home.” 
You were manhandled by your neck and hips to flip over onto your stomach into that position you knew your body loved the most. Doggy style. Something about the angel always sent Jake's length so deep you swore the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with every thrust. 
You felt the edge of the man’s sharp blade run slowly over the fabric of your pyjama shirt, directly down your spine as you shivered under the touch.
“I bet you're a tight little thing.” Too afraid to move, you felt the elastic of your pyjamas pants slipping past your hips until the chill of your bedroom kissed your exposed cheeks. “Holy fuck look at you, you’ve ruined your panties.” The man growled as you heard him shimmering out of his jeans behind you. “Someone likes to be taunted, don’t you darlin’?” 
Again you could do anything but remain silent and shaking in fear as you felt the man’s hands trail up under your shirt, across your smooth ass and finally down between your dripping folds. The anticipation was all consuming. 
“That boyfriend of yours is a lucky guy—“ You saw a flash of white light illuminate your bedroom for a brief moment as you felt a hand pressing your head down into the mattress. Holy mother of god he’s taking photos. “I’ll need these for later.” He admitted as another flash went off. Photo after photo. 
“Please, please don’t do this—“ You cried as you felt the tip of his cock sliding up and down through your folds. Collecting all your arousal as he did so to slick up his length to fit right inside. “Please—“ 
“I love it when they beg.” Was all the masked man said before he was pushing himself inside you. Your eyes rolled so far back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure that you swore you saw your own soul. “Ohh fughh—such a pretty pussy you’ve got, go on, scream for me darlin, no one's gonna hear you.” 
“AHHHH!” With every frightful, pleasurable thrust you screamed into the mattress. “Stop! Stop please!” 
“Oh but you feel so fucking good.” The man growled as his free hand that wasn’t pressing your face into the mattress came up to slap your ass. You jolted from the sting. “Look at that, so reactive.”
Again you felt another sharp slap as the man behind you quickened his pace. 
“Ah fuck!”
“That’s it baby, I know you love it—“ The man let go of your head as his hands came to hold
Your hips tighter than ever before, pulling you back into him as you tried to get away. “I know you love this, being used, don’t run away, stay right here on my cock.”
Jake didn’t let up as he fucked deep and hard into your push from behind. You couldn’t see the mask, but the idea of him wearing it was even to have you seeing stars. Every thrust brought you closer to that ever looming orgasm that threatened to crash over you and every slap against your ass sent you further and further into that sun space where you could just feel and exist. 
“Dirty fucking thing look at you, fucking a killer.” The man taunted you as he pulled you up by your hair so that your back was flush against his chest. When did he remove his shirt? Was it when he took his jeans off? Did he also take the mask off? “Unbutton your shirt.” He hissed as he slowed down the pace to a barely there rhythm. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you like it was dying to coat your velvet walls. 
“I said!” The man held the knife to your throat as he fucked you slowly from behind, keeping your back pressed against his chest. “Unbutton your shirt—“ 
With shaking hands and the inability to fully comprehend how pleasure filled and ignited your nerve endings were, you slowly but surely unbuttoned your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra. The black lace one Jake adored to no end. 
It matched the panties you’d ruined, the ones the man had dragged down your legs along with your pyjamas pants. 
“What colour?” When you didn’t answer straight away Jake frowned behind his Ghostface mask and dragged the knife away from your neck along your sternum towards your core. “Sweetheart, it’s me, I’m here, what colour are you?” The gentle words broke through the blinding spell of the role play situation you were in. It was all fake, you were safe, Jake would never do anything to hurt you. “It’s me, just me.” 
“Green—“ That was all Jake needed before he was pushing you back down onto the mattress, he manhandled you expertly so that he was on top, sliding back into you like you were his home, like you were made just for him. “Ahh! Fuck!!”
“Naughty little thing—“ He growled behind the mask that hovered over you. His hips slammed into yours as he hovered over you with a hand on either side of your body. “I can feel you trembling.”
That coil had begun to wind to new heights as you wrapped your legs around Jake's waist and dragged your nails down his back. You were getting close, oh so close to that orgasmic euphoria you’d been searching for since that first phone call. 
“Ohh fuck yes I can feel you gripping my dick, ohhh fuck, that’s it sweetheart, bet you wish that boyfriend of yours could see you like this huh?” The taunting mixed with the rhythm of Jake's rutts we’re sending you towards the edge of the cliff face you wanted so desperately to jump off. The mask that was staring you right in the face though, that’s what was doing it the most for you. “You wanna come? Wanna cum like a little whore all over my dick?” 
Needy little cries were all you could reply with as the man in the mask trailed one hand down between your bodies to circle the pad of his thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves. “I’m close too, which means you’re gonna be full of my cum, dripping, completely stuffed full of my load.” He moaned through the mask as your back arched and your eyes rolled. You were so deep into your sun space Jake hardly recognised the please in your eyes. “Colour?” 
“I’m coming!” It was all you had the energy to say before your cries and whimpers and desperate pleas all mixed together into a babbling mantra of euphoric high. Your back arched all the way up till your stomach was pressed against Jakes and he was following within seconds. Seeing you like this, so spent and fucked out and blissfully under control made the orgasm that was pooling at the base of his shaft shoot up to overcome his entire being. 
“Ah shit! Fuck fuck fuck fuck, baby yes—ahhhh Christ!” It was one of the most intense orgasms Jake Seresin had ever had. The load he pumped inside you was thick and heavy and dripped around his shaft as he continued to fuck you deeper and fuck you through your own high. 
His back bled from your nails scraping down his muscles, but he didn’t mind, they were worth it to see you like this. 
The second he could, Jake was taking the Ghostface mask off and coaxing you to look at him while he was still buried deep inside you. Tears welled in your eyes as old tears stained your cheeks. His gentle touch made you jump. 
“Shhh baby it’s me, just me.” 
“Jake.” You sobbed as he came down to kiss your lips as gently as ever before trailing those same soft kisses across your collarbone as you came down. 
“It’s just me darlin’ you did so well for me.” He whispered sweet nothings across your fiery skin. “You played along so well.” Jake knew you were gonna take a while to come down, he knew it would take a while for you to process everything, from the phone call to the oral to the knife okay. But he already had a plan in place and a surprise organised for you tomorrow night. 
“I’m gonna run us a bath.” Jake mumbled against your skin as he left a few marks behind in his wake. You swallowed heavily in response as your body continued to experience the after effects of being so deep into role play. “I love you so much, thankyou for letting me in, for letting me bring your fantasies to life.” 
“Are you staying with me in the bath?” You could barely speak as Jake helped you up, handing you your pyjama short back as he dismounted from your bed. His cock remained flaccid and coated in a mix of your arousal and his cum. 
It was just as important to receive the aftercare than to experience the high. Jake was good like that, and you’d discussed this beforehand with him. That you’d need time to come down after and just be held and brought back to earth. Jake was more than accommodating to your needs. 
“Absolutely, I’m not going anywhere.” You managed a smile as you watched Jake pick up the Ghostface mask and stare at it. “You know there were two of these guys right?” Jake smirked as he threw it over onto your bedside table. “Kinda makes you wonder how far we could take this role play kink of yours.” 
“Who’d be your Stu Macher?” You asked as you stood from the bed to give Jake a kiss so gently it was like the wings of a butterfly had handed against his cheeks. “It’s bath time Loomis.” You cooed as you patted Jake's shoulder twice. “Come on.” 
“I’ll wash your hair for you.” Jake followed you into the bathroom eagerly before he shut the door behind him. It was good to be home. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“This is awesome.” Javy beamed when he saw you and Jake at the annual Seresin family Halloween party. The Daggers had all been granted a week's grace and they all decided to utilise the time off to attend the celebration. “Sidney and Billy, that’s awesome.” 
“If only he knew—“ Jake whispered in your ear as you giggled and pushed at his chest. You were still buzzing from your night with Jake. High on the ecstasy his Ghostface impersonation gave you. “Come on now, don’t act all shy.” Jake teased as he kissed you tenderly, tilting your chin up with his index finger. The costume was really making you dizzy, you were still all consumed by your burning desire to act out your wildest fantasies. 
“Oh.” You felt your phone ringing in your back pocket. “Huh.” You had to laugh at the irony. “It’s an unknown number?” You turned your phone to Jake as he smirked and nodded.
“You should answer it.” After all, he did have a surprise for you. “Go on now, don’t be shy.” With confusion laced into the lines and fake blood on your face, you swipt your phone along the screen and held it to your ear all the while you kept eye contact with Jake. 
“Hello?” You asked cautiously, still not sure what the hell was going on. 
“Wanna play a game?” Bradley spoke through the phone as you caught sight of him behind Jake’s shoulder. Dressed in that all too familiar ghost face costume. After all, there were always two killers. 
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
Tags: 🏷️ @attapullman @330bpm-whiplash @mamachasesmayhem @echo-ethe @avengersgirllorianna @nmw-am @eli2447 @hookslove1592 @kmc1989 @seitmai @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh
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bigroundburger · 3 months
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Xtra butter
He owns a movie theater and likes to take advantage of the huge bulks of food they get.
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was thinking abt how reader uses cowboy spence’s boot.. 🤭 maybe a drabble w praise kink n begging reader
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oh you beautiful, beautiful mind... I could kiss you. yes. word count on this is 800ish. as always, reblogs are much appreciated!! they keep me going and circulate my writing!!
warnings - smut. cursing.
cowboy!spencer masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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"You like them?"
Spencer takes the boots out of their box and slips them onto his feet, clicking his heels together.
"Sweet girl," he begins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love them."
He looks at you tenderly, before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes darken, scanning over your hopeful face. There's something rolling off of him now, in molten, smoky waves. It's pure lust.
He steps into you, leaning down so his mouth is against your ear.
"You wanna help me break them in?"
His tone is low, honeyed, full of mischief. He has a plan that you're not yet privy to. But you will be. Soon.
"You fancy a walk or something?" you smile, running your fingers across the flannel stretched across his chest.
"Not exactly what I had in mind."
He nips your earlobe, running his tongue down the expanse of your neck and back up again. Oh, you think. It's that kind of an evening.
Spencer takes his hat off his head and places it on yours gently, tilting it up so he can see your face.
"You know what they say, honey," he chuckles. "Wear the hat, ride the cowboy."
"Is that what they say?" you smirk, fingers flying to his belt buckle.
"Nuh uh. Different kind of ride, this time."
He looks down to his new boots and pushes your shoulders gently, helping you get the message. You quirk a brow at him, making sure you've understood him correctly.
"Oh," you say slowly. "Break them in."
He winks at you as you sink to your knees in front of him, unsure of where to go next.
"Go ahead, cowgirl," he encourages. "Ride it."
He juts one boot out, grinning in amusement as you try to figure out the logistics.
"Stop thinking so hard, honey."
He takes the hat off your head and strokes a hand over your hair comfortingly, giving you a nod of reassurance. You flip up your skirt slightly and settle over his boot, hovering on your knees. Spencer intertwines one of his hands with one of yours, encouraging you to use it as leverage. You settle your other hand on his broad thigh, squeezing the taut muscle.
"Oh, you look so pretty down there," he drawls. "So perfect, baby. You're a dream."
"Please, Spence."
"Please what, baby? Go ahead. Take what you need."
You pout at him, bottom lip jutting out. Your big doe eyes find his, like butter wouldn't melt.
"You can do it, honey. I know you can."
You settle down over his boot, shivering when the cool leather grazes the insides of your bare thighs. You sit your weight down fully, rocking your hips slightly.
"Keep going, sweet thing. That's it. Use me."
You work up a rhythm, forward and backwards, keening when you hit the material just right. Every now and again, Spencer rocks his foot up and down, adding vibrations.
"Please, Spence. Please. I can't do it."
"Yes, you can. Hey, look at me. You can do it. I know you can. You're doing so well."
His honey sweet words settle into your core, saccharine and sugary. He's looking at you like you hung the moon just for him. You would, if he asked.
You rock even harder, the slick between your legs soaking through your underwear and making the glide easier. You've got an iron grip on his hand and his thigh, using him to your advantage.
"Fuck, you're so gorgeous. Good girl, that's it. You got it. Keep going, baby."
Spencer can't take his eyes off you, glued to the way you look so lost in your own pleasure. Your irises are glazed over, mouth dropped open, chest heaving as you work towards your release. He holds your hand even tighter, helping you move.
"So close," you whine, bottom lip catching between your teeth. "Please, Spence. Please."
You're not even sure what you're asking for, solely desperate to find your end.
"Come on, honey. Come for me. Show me how pretty you look, that's it."
You finish with a shudder, gentle moans spilling from your lips. Spencer rocks you through it, guiding you. When he's satisfied you're satisfied, he picks you up under your arms, sitting you on a chair. He kneels down in front of you, carefully moving your hair out of your face.
"You okay?"
You nod with a gentle smile, legs feeling like jelly. Spence grabs you a glass of water, watching you like a hawk as you drink it.
"Shower?" he asks, chuckling as you extend your arms to him.
You wrap yourself around his neck as he picks you up, carrying you upstairs to the bathroom.
"I love my new boots, honey," he whispers in your ear. "Thank you."
"I love them too," you reply, both of you chuckling. "Love you, cowboy."
"Love you more, pretty baby."
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mammonswhore · 5 months
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MC and their tiny dog!
summary: MC gets their little dog from the human world to the House of Lamentation and everyone has mixed reactions about it!
This idea came to me while avoiding uni work so enjoy.
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Everyone was so happy you were coming back from the Human Realm, you were gone for almost a month and all the demons were waiting for you coming back. Much to their surprise, you brought back your most loved companion: your dog.
Lucifer:
You call this a dog? Really?
He is speechless and for bad because he never agreed to you having a puppy at home.
When he gets a chance he will pull you away and ask you what do you mean by this. You have various choices but the most efficient one is to remind him that he said you were equals and that meant being able to take decisions on what gets inside the house.
That serves to butter him up and make him daydream of running the House together as more than equals. He will grunt and mumble how he is stilo thw head of the house but the dog can stay as long as you take care of it's needs.
He isn´t friendly with the puppy unless the puppy is friendly first. Maybe the pup sneaks inside his office and sleeps at his feet while he works or even the puppy waits for him at the main entrance and wiggles when he gets home. He isn't going to be specially sweet to him but he will pet the dog and buy him little toys every once in a while.
Now,Lucifer knows how important the dog is for you so he will keep his mean thoughts to himself but to him a creature thar size is not worthy calling a dog.
Won't even think of taking the dog on a walk but he will offer himself to go buy him food or any supplies he needs.
"I don't appreciate your dog, I am doing it because I appreciate you and the effort you make."
He's lying,he appreciates the dog because the dog's love for him it's a sign of trust and respect and if you ever treat the dog like your little child he will 100% puff his chest and say the dog loves him to be with you.
He doesn't want the dog on his bed nor yours but he can sleep on the couchs if you keep their hair brushed and neat.
When he gets accustomed to the pup he will tell you that whenever you need help making them take a bath just call him. Honestly he just wants to have that kind of domestic moments with you.
Overall an 7/10 because he will never not look down on the pup because of their size.
Mammon:
Now see,he likes cats more BUT he is such a good kind soul that all animals like him, including your dog.
It doesn't come as a surprise when your dog follows him around the house and wiggles at him to play.
And just like you, the dog wins over Mammon's heart in no time. They go on walks together and Mammon went as far as to call himself their step-dad.
The dog sleeps with him and has his own bed on his room as well as another set of plates to eat and drink from because the House is enormous for a dog who's as tiny as they are.
Teaches your dog tricks to surprise you. Suddenly Mammon claps and the dog plays dead and you get a heart attack because Mammon forgot to warn you. His bad, he's sorry please don't hate him.
The size of the dog amuses him so much, he gets so giddy when the dog sneaks into small places, hops on top of him or anything that includes taking advantage of his size.
Buys him a new collar and a new tag that has yours and his number in case the little one goes missing.
His smile ia bigger than ever when the dog waits for him at the main entrance, Mammon drops to his knees to pick his kid and snuggle him a little before both of them go to your room to also snuggle you.
Total dog dad 11/10
Leviathan:
Not so friendly with the dog not only because he's jealous but also because the dog looks at him too much for his liking. He's okay with looking at the pup as long as they don't stare at him with 'empty eyes' as he called them.
Wouldn't let them inside his room, he thinks dogs are not naturally clean creatures nor they are careful. He will die if the dog chews at anything he finds valuable or worst, if the dog eats anything that they found on his room and dies.
If the dog is calm and usually chill, Levi will lay down on your bed and the dog will get some petting and cuddles but it has to be in your room.
He strikes me as an allergic person and if he happens to be allergic to the dog Levi will probably get on a medical treatment because a. It's going to be a hassle and b. He loves you and you spend a lot of time with the little one.
He's not very good at showing emotions but he will show his appreciation for the dog in tiny gifts and talking to them about his day. It's a common sight to find them in your bed talking (Well, only Levi does the talking but still) and playing with a toy that keeps the dog jumping around.
5/10 because he will kick the dog out when he gets tired of them.
Satan:
Totally not. "That thing can´t have a place in my home! I can´t have a cat but MC gets to have a damn dog?" He is furious.
He won´t lash out to you nor the dog, Lucifer will pay for the broken plates. Both of them yell at each other through dinner until Lucifer dismisses them and the only sound that can be heard for at least an hour or so is Satan telling Lucifer he is "an ungrateful fucker who has preference" and Lucifer would dismiss him and ignore his points. This will blow into a heated argument, they will most likely throw hands but hey Satan´s got a cat now.
After Lucifer agreed that Satan could have a cat (he was tired to argue), Satan seemed more than happy and Mr. Whiskers seemed to be chill around your dog so there were no biggie.
Each animal stays on it´s own room until they get used to the other, then they will slowly start to come around and be friendly.
Now, if they are friendly from the beginning then Satan will look at your dog more fondly but if they don´t Satan will most likely dislike your dog and say your puppy lacks manners and that you should put more effort into raising him.
"Oh but look at it! It doesn´t have the calm and charm of a cat I find it´s fluffiness annoying and pompous, I can´t think of why you would share something as sacred as your bed with that."
He really is annoying about your dog so you need to set boundaries clear and tell him to shut the fuck up.
1/10 This one doesn´t need a clearer explanation.
Asmodeus:
Total cutie! Asmo loves your dog!
He is another dog dad, he loves how your puppy is so affectionate and playful with him. He loves taking pictures of your pup and posting them, there´s thousands of videos of them playing tag, with sticks, even there´s a few pics of Asmo showering your little one.
He is the perfect person to go to the vet with, he talks to the dog all the way through and helps the little one relax when they are about to see the vet.
He keeps a stash of stuff for your puppy like clothes, dog food, treats and more. Asmodeus is so enamored with your pup, he thinks your puppy is so small and cheerful and he thinks they resemble you.
"MC your dog is just like you it´s true, the dogs resembles their owners!"
Asmodeus is the sweetest alive when it comes to cute animals, he doesn't like the fur the tiny one leaves around but he bought a brush for his clothes.
He loves how you two are really close, Asmo enjoys seeing the pup follow you around and be your companion. He is a little worried sometimes because everyone and everything in the house is big and the dog is really smal.
He really likes putting the dog on his bed and playing with it, rubbing it's belly and speaking to them the same way one speaks to babies.
100% the first one to throw a fit if somebody says the dog is ugly, don't call his baby ugly!
Super dog dad, 10/10 he exceeded on his duties.
Beelzebub
He likes it,he doesn't love it bu he loves the look on your face when the dog is around, how you enjoy it's company so if it makes you happy then everything is fine.
He is usually fond of dogs and he is fond of your dog but it's really tiny and it makes him uncomfortable.
Before you,Beel wasn't used to hang around things or people significantly smaller than him and even you are smaller than him due to his demonic traits but still. He doesn't want to hurt the puppy,he knows it will kill your heart if something happened to the dog that you see as your kid. He us used to you and the little trinkets you give him as well as the little things in your every day life that he came to notice but the dog moves,it has life and a mind and it kind of scares him.
He reads a lot about tiny dogs so he can know how to help you, he wants to be involved but with his hands and strength away from the puppy as to not hurt them.
"Is his heart okay? I closed the door too loud and I read that it could scare them so much their hearts stopped."
Eventually Beel will come around and hang around with the dog,petting them and playing with so much gentleness.
If the dog likes the soft game is cool but if the dog likes playing rough he is more than okay. Soon enough Beel is bitten in places like his toes, fingers, hands, arms and whenever the dog can reach. Truly it's tiny teeth do no harm to Beel other than tickle him.
He likes brushing the dog, washing its clothes and teeth, sharing small pieces of his food with them. Watching them interact it's extremely adorable.
I'll put him on a 9/10 because he barked back at the dog once.
Belphegor
Nope. 100% dislikes the dog, it's always following you and growling at him and it makes his skin itch.
More than once he made jokes about pushing the dog when it's going downstairs to watch him fall, he earned a punch in the stomach (deserved).
Satan once said that the pup dislikes Belphie so much because they are similar to MC and they probably sensed his vibes. Belphie is hurt and bothered but he tries to be less of a little shit to the dog ever since.
It takes some time, a few growls from both sides and some biting but they get there. Belphie once shared a piece of meat with the pup and they have been less wary of him ever since, the pup once barked to Lucifer and Belphie softened a little at the sight.
Belphie doesn't like to be bothered while sleeping but he does like the extra watm the dog provides when they lay at his feet. Progressively the dog likes him more and more to the point of sleeping by his side at the height of his shoulder even going as far as to lay on top of him.
Dislikes the licking, like he finds it disgusting most of the time specially when the dog licked his face he made the worst gagging noise.
He likes to feed the dog because it reminds him of Beel, the dog is excited when he eats food and so is Beel.
Again overall 7/10 because he's not good nor bad he just exists alongside the dog.
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