#if they aren't friendly with him then they are just there for the booze

[goldengirlgalaxy]

The League of Assassins hideout with the Lazarus Pit has been attacked, with many members suddenly going silent. Of course, this fact makes its way back to Batman.

When the Justice League arrives to figure out what is going on, they find a group of 'metas' throwing a party, all of them with cups filled with Lazarus Water.

As it turns out, the Lazarus Water is actually high quality ghost booze, and a group of specters has decided to set up the current Ghost King's wedding reception around the best source of it.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #ghost booze #lazarus pit #everlasting trio #technically you can have Danny marrying whomever you want #but I kinda like everlasting trio #basically all of Danny's Rogues Gallery is there #if they aren't friendly with him then they are just there for the booze #the Lazarus pits was something specially put aside for occasions like this by one of the previous kings #it's not their fault humans can't handle ghost liquor #the Justice League is confused but some end up joining in on the party #Batman later convinces Danny to find a better place to store the liquor so stupid humans won't mess with it again #batman #weddings #ghost weddings

[lovelybrooke]

Platonic Yandere Hazbin Hotel Concept (pt.2)

Here's the part two to this post right here, hope you enjoy.

masterlist

---

Time passes strangely in hell. Since there was no sun, it was hard to tell how long you've been here. Charlie says it's been a little over a month, but in all honestly, it's only felt like a few days. You've barely slept, too filled with worry to even close your eyes. You feel bad for being so anxious in the Hotel, Charlie and the other's have been so helpful but you can't really help it if your mind is elsewhere.

The others could notice that something was up with you, with your blank and distant stares and your nearly robotic responses. Most weren't that concerned, Charlie probably worrying the most for you. She was afraid you were going leave the hotel, like you had somewhere else to go. You had to pinky promise her that you weren't planning on leaving any time soon. Other than her, there was Vaggie, whose worry for you stemmed from worry for Charlie. It wasn't hard to feel her stare on you, even from across the room. You'd often find yourself in awkward conversations with her, her attempts to relate with and trust you more on full display. It's obvious that she's still weary of you, but even she can deny the warm feeling she gets when she's around you, though she'd never admit it.

The others aren't too worried about your strange behaviors. Angel's relationship with you is...weird to say the least. Some days he's very friendly, and other days he's distant. It never seemed like your job to pry into why that might be, so you chose to keep Angel at a distance, since that's how it seems he prefers it. However, he does care, that much is obvious. He's more aware of your emotions compared to others, being able to instantly tell when you're not all there. He want's to be there for you, he really does, but he doesn't always know what to do. He gets the feeling that this isn't something simple that he can solve with booze and drugs, not that you're even that type of person anyway. He likes you, you're kind to him--but there's a part of him that knows something is up with you. You're not like others in hell, you're sweet and naive and he knows people that will ruin that. So he tries his best to stay away from you, so you don't end up like him, even if does fill him with an indescribable dread.

Husk and Alastor are strange as well. Husk is observant, he notices the changes in the other's behavior, he notices the possessiveness and the jealously. And he pays attention to you when your mind begins to wonder and you find yourself lost in halls of the Hotel. He worries, and he knows he shouldn't, but when Alastor demands he keep an eye on you, he's knows something is about to happen. He knows Alastor, and he knows that he doesn't take interest in people for no reason. He knows something is up with you, judging by the way Alastor won't leave you alone. You're a good kid, so he tries his best to keep you away from the Radio Demon, but there's only so much he can do. He makes you your favorite drink whenever you leave your room, he'll ask you to help him clean up, he'll even give you chores to do. Anything to keep you safe from the Radio Demon.

The Radio Demon has taken an interest in you, that is obvious to most people in the hotel. He just wishes to prod at your mind a bit, it is so very interesting. He can see something behind those blank, distant eyes. And when he snaps you out of these little stupors of yours, he can't help but revel in the surprise and fear that flashes across your face. He wishes to open up your mind and gaze at what's inside. Alastor works hard to gain your trust, and despite what others might believe, he doesn't plan on betraying that trust. Well, at least not anytime soon. If asked, Alastor couldn't give a specific reason why he finds you so fascinating. Maybe it's your aloof nature, or your inability to comprehend your dead, or possibly your ability to be manipulated, he doesn't really know. What he does know, is that he can't possibly can't loose such an interesting friend.

Jealously is common between them all, however most all good at hiding it. All are subtle in their affection, so unless something happens to you, you'll never know how deep their feelings for you go. However, they do get jealous of each other often. Whenever you spend too much time with any one person, they instantly see each other as competition. It doesn't get better the longer you stay there either, in fact it gets worse. Unless you're spending you time with all of them together, expect for arguments.

Weeks go by, and you barely notice the changes in your new friend's behavior. You're too distracted to really notice anything going on around you. On top of that, after weeks of not being able to sleep, you're so, so very tired. One night, you're finally able to sleep again, and when you awake, you're not in your hotel room. You're in your bedroom, back at home, with your mother, and your heart starts to race. You don't know if this is a dream, or a nightmare, but your mind feels clear. When you finally make it off your bed, you're greeted by your mother, alseep on the couch, game shows playing on the T.V.

Everything felt so real, everyone back at the Hotel felt so real. It had to be. By as days go by, and you learn that apparently the crash just gave you a minor concussion, and you were only asleep for a few hours, you assume that it was a dream. Your mind trying to reason with everything you were going through. It was--nice though, getting to be somewhere out of the house. The friends you made...it was nice not being alone for once. As time passed, you tried to forget the Hotel, but it kept a hold on you.

And you, in turn, kept a hold on the hotel. None of the demons forgot about you. Charlie was always worried when you didn't leave your room. When you still weren't up at midday, she went to check on you, only to find you gone. There was no sign of how you managed to leave either. After hours of looking for you, they concluded that you were gone. The more determined of them, namely Charlie and Alastor, would not stop looking, even days after your disappearance. They knew you were strange, and if you found a way to hell, you could find a way back. And well, if there was something they could do to help you get back to them, then they'll try their hardest.

---

A/n: I didn't really know how to end this, but if you guys want to request anything related to this concept then go ahead. I hope you all enjoyed this.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Queen Bee-zlebub with gender neutral!reader platonic headcanons

warnings: alcohol and drug usage, non-consensual behavior, explicit language.

This is a fictional story, therefore the behavior portrayed here is not acceptable in real life. If you do not feel comfortable venturing further, please push the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and find something else much more pleasant to read.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, and welcome to my first Helluva boss fanfic! I'd like to thank @thatstonedwriter for not only reading the draft of this piece, but also giving me feedback on the parts I initially struggled with writing out. Definitely check out their Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss content guys, it is amazing!

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's get this party started! :)

Being Beezle-bub’s friend definitely makes life in Hell interesting for you. Not only is she the Deadly Sin of Gluttony, but her parties are legendary; you never leave on an empty stomach, or feel dissatisfied.

 Her power comes from her guest’s good vibes, so she knows if they are enjoying themselves or things are getting out of control, leaving her no choice but to step in and remedy the situation before the party’s mood goes sideways in the worst way possible. Case in point with Blitzø at Bee’s last party. He drank in the name of the sin of pride, instead of indulgence. 

You met Queen Bee in her mansion during one of her weekend parties; nothing special, really. You were having a good time and challenged her to a friendly drinking contest. Loser would buy drinks next time they met. You didn’t win, but you came pretty damn close and thanked the Deadly Sin for indulging your whims, promising to buy her a drink when you met each other next time. 

Polite, easygoing, and cheerful without a stick up your ass? You definitely won some brownie points with Queen Bee. More kudos would be earned if you’re honest with her. 

Before the night was over, she invited you to a more exclusive party she’d be hosting in the following weeks. She will immediately follow you online if you have any social media accounts. Sinstagram is her main one to advertise her Beezle-juice and other products. Party invitations? Nope. Sorry, but those are her rules. You gotta know someone to come to her events, or know her to get permission to set a single foot on her property. She can’t keep stealing large quantities of drugs from Belphegor or else that asshole will keep changing the locks on her. 

When you weren’t getting drunk or high as a kite with the Deadly Sin, you’d meet up somewhere in the Gluttony Ring and grab a drink. That’s actually what happened first, since you did promise to buy her shots after losing the drinking contest with her. From there, you’d either trade gossip at the local coffee shop that’s known for their killer frappuccinos, or just go window shopping.

If you see something you like, clothes, booze, or anything else? She’ll buy it as long as you come to her next party like you said you would. If you can’t make it because of work? She gets it, but just let her know as soon as you do, okay? She is a busy lady after all. 

She’s all for fucking and getting fucked at her parties, but she shares Ozzie’s philosophy that consent makes it an art form. Non-con shit like drugging drinks or pushing someone into something they aren't down to doing? And someone pulls that kind of stunt on you, her bestie? Yeah, that son of a bitch is yeeted out of the goddamned window faster before anyone can blink and the party's over. 

Vortex would definitely be happy to see you around the dance floor. Other than himself, you’re probably the only person that can calm down Bee if she’s super upset or angry. If you have time before you go home, you help him out with cleaning up the place or getting some hangover remedies prepped up in the kitchen for the the guests that were too fucked up to go home. 

 She’s definitely trying to reign in her temper, but it can be hard for her. When she gets in one of those dark moods, you’re only a phone call away, like you always tell her. And when she does call? You’re there in a heartbeat, or talk to her until she can finally relax and fall asleep. 

Yeah…she’s really glad she met you. 

Taglist:

@myafterlifeisbetterthenyours

@nunezs-stuff

@mitra555

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@nixie-writes

@vikkirosko

@abelheilonwife

@puffy-bangs

@technikerin23

#an idyllic novelist #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss headcanon #queen bee helluva boss #queen bee lzebub #helluva boss #viviziepop #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #platonic headcanons

[octuscle]

Hey, uh, bit of an urgent query here. Me and my brother Jeremy have been visiting our cousins down south, out on the farm. (We’re all in our early twenties.) They’re very raunchy, rural, immature guys, y’know. Jeremy’s so smart and snobby, and he was constantly calling them dumb hicks, which I thought was really mean, since they’re family and they are basically good-natured guys…so I used the chronoviac to adjust him and make him one of their brothers instead—a dumb, grinning cowhand, all about booze and fishing and tusslin’—just for the weekend! Just so he could put themselves in their shoes and not be so superior for once. Well that was funny for a few days, but I woke up this morning and now I can’t find the chronoviac anywhere. Like it’s gone. I’m terrified that Jeremy may have it and what he might do with it in his, um, duller state. Is there anything I can do to retrieve it before something irreversible happens???

When you come into the kitchen, your brother is already sitting there, drinking a coffee and smoking a cigarette.

"Good mornin', liddel brother! Everythin' good? Is yawl lookin' fahwar sumpn? " He's playing with the Chronivac. And grins. "Dja play uh liddel game with may, buddy? Let's keep playin' thet game with pleasure. Ahm havin' uh hell uh uh lottuh fun. Ah took uh closer look at thus liddel thang. An naw matter how stupid yawl made may, Ah gist bout understood how tuh use it. Ah made uh few adjustments on mah end. Ah lahk it hare. I'd lahk tuh stay hare." Sweat breaks out on your forehead. "Is yawl scared? Don't bay. All Ah want iz fahwar mah liddel brother tuh stay hare, too. Yawl know, Ahv already looked fahwar uh job. But yawl need wun now, too. "

Your brother plays around on the display. You ask him to stop. He asks you to name a number between 1 and 3. "Yee-haw," your brother says, tapping the screen. Fuck, you kind of blacked out. Damn, why is your brother already awake. With his job in the IT department at the local oil company, he can usually sleep an hour or two longer than you. And now he's sitting here at the crack of dawn drinking a coffee before you. "Fayul out uh bed, big brother?" you ask, taking one of his cigarettes. "Overslept, liddel brother?  " he answers and gives you a friendly poke on the chest. "Naw, sum dawgone software error. Ahv gotta go! Say yawl tonight?" "Yawl bet, bro."

Your brother grabs his coffee and laptop bag and disappears. An office job really wouldn't be for you. Just having to shower in the morning before work would be a challenge. You take a deep breath from your armpit. Yes, that's what a good start to a working day smells like. But now you have to go. The bulls aren't going to feed themselves.

Enjoy your stay with your cousins. And don't worry, I've changed your brother's settings so that in a month you'll realize you're in a modified reality. Get in touch if you want me to correct anything then!

#male tf #muscle tf #chronivac #reality change #inked man #redneck tf

[slocumjoe]

Do you have any grab-bag headcanons for the companions? (SFW or NSFW, whatever you're in teh mood for!)

COMPANION HEADCANON SAMPLE PLATTER PART 4 I THINK??

Cait; Actually pretty mellow as a person, like, down to her bones, she's...not quite laid back, but she isn't as hotheaded or firey as people think. Trauma and addiction will give you that reputation, though. Once she's off the chems, eased up on the booze, and gotten herself to a healthier place all around, Cait is more like your friend's older, alternative sister in college who buys you Pizza Hut for your sleepovers, than a loudmouth riot girl. It surprises Cait, too. She's got her own way of looking out for people, but once she's got your back, you know it.

Codsworth; functions as a stand-in secretary for the mayor of Sanctuary that is the Sole Survivor. Most people report or complain to him, if not Sturges or Preston. He has a better, less fallible memory, and has a knack for managing things on his own. Sure, sometimes "managing things on his own" means getting a group to fix the water system, sometimes it means personally torching a band of raiders scoping out the outskirts of town. He gets things done. Keeps meticulous record of anything he's told and anything he does "on the clock."

Curie; absolutely loathes working with Wasteland doctors. Very rarely do they stand up to her high, high standards. They have no degrees—understandable, there are no colleges anymore. They don't wash their hands. They don't have basic understanding of anatomy. They don't know what goes in the simplest medicine. Her greatest pet peeve is the more...superstitious healers. If you hold up a rock and say it fixes bones, Curie won't cuss you out, but you'll think for a moment, she just might. Her usual method of handling is to simply guide and educate where she can. But if the week has been full of people just sticking needles in places and praying, her nerves get shot to shit.

Danse; if you end up in a settlement, and Danse goes missing for a bit, just follow the sound of kids. He always attracts kids, drawn to his power armor. Sometimes they just want to watch it move, sometimes they have questions. Usually they want to be picked up. Danse is too soft to say no. He can end up stuck in a loop of playing with local kids, telling the child-friendly stories he has, maybe giving them some pointers with firearms or how to take down a wasteland monster. If you have to pull him way, his puppy eyes are sadder than any of the kids'. Always wanted to have a small family of his own, but resigned to the fact that he'd never have one.

Deacon; Polyglot, but can't speak any language beyond English. He can read other languages, though. Spanish and German are his strongest. This happened largely because his small school growing up had to use books that weren't wholly English. Things just spiraled from there. He can understand a few other languages, but speaking himself...he makes Curie cry with his French. As for his Italian, if he took out some of the, for lack of better word, Mario-isms, he'd be able to hold a conversation with Nick. As things stand, Nick starts hitting him with the fedora until he stops butchering the language.

Gage; really good with kids, though most take one look at him and see a monster. He tends to draw younger adults, fresh off their farm and new in the frying pan that is raider-dom. He usually tells them to go the fuck back home. Most of them aren't cut out for it. They're there because they're scared, they're hungry. They're angry. They want, want, want. Those kinds don't last. Once they're fed, they get the first payout, they get their first kill, they've had enough and want to go home. And Gage, he does get them back home, if they don't listen the first time. You tried. You saw what this life was like. You're still a kid. Go back home, don't tell your ma and pa what you did, and if you see anyone you just worked with, shoot to kill. He doesn't know why he does it. Why he lets them go.

Hancock; Could have been a championship chess player in another life, chems or not. He's smart as shit, quick on his feet, and can read someone's game before they even set it up. He learned to play chess from his neighbor in DC, an older Ghoul gentleman everyone just called Bubblegum. Bubs got his name for always having bubblegum on him, and giving pieces to whoever beat him or just improved at chess. Hancock liked gum, and his parents didn't allow it. So, he was always playing against Bubs after school, hoping to either win, or at least impress the guy enough to get another piece of candy. Bubblegum moved west after the Ghoul exile, but Hancock likes teaching the few young'uns of Goodneighbor chess and any other tricks he knows. If they catch on, they get a gum.

MacCready; Actually a rather quiet, withdrawn person. People he likes/gets close to tend to think of him as more extroverted, more of a rowdy young man like you'd think. Nope. He gets that way once he's really comfortable with someone. If he's not...doesn't talk much. If it's business, he's a bit more sociable, but Mac isn't the type to, say, chat at the bar with strangers, or make small talk with a shop owner. It's a mix of shyness and his more brusque side. If he sticks around one place, he'll open up, and such is the case with Goodneighbor, but if they remember him at all, majority of people will remember thinking he was mute.

Nick; Was a theater kid. The moment he could go into theater at school, he did, and it consumed his teenage years. His favorite play to perform was Hamlet, obviously, and even at a young age, he had a strong voice, so he was often the titular character. This gave him a complex. You don't recite Poe unprovoked without being a little bit pretensious. Aside from the Theater Kid Ego, Nick was different from his peers in that he lacked mental illness (it would come later). Half of his negotiation and de-escalation skills were honed to a fine point, trying to keep Heather and Back Up Veronica #4 from trying to method-act. Nick would later stare down gun barrels and feel less fear.

Piper; Potentially suffers from arthritis, or will in the future. It could be from overworking her hands from writing, or fiddling with her printing press, but the first knuckles on her hands and her wrist joints ache frequently. The pain varies, but putting pressure on her hands usually helps, hence her fondness for fingerless gloves. She wears them a bit too small for the pressure. Piper can always tell when its about to rain or radstorm, because her hands flare up. She jokes that its a superpower, but suffers from anxiety about potentially struggling to use her hands, if she gets older.

Preston; there are few ways to really aggravate Preston, but if you wanna, restrain any limb in any capacity, or touch him from behind or to the side. Y'know how people will sometimes grab another's arm, like, while laughing, but quickly let go and not mean much by it? Preston hates it. He doesn't like any limb being pushed down or held back. As for the touching from behind, he's a bit like a horse. Approach from the front and telegraph the movement. If you try to hug him from behind, or read over his shoulder, God forbid lean on it, you're cruising for an elbow to the crotch. He doesn't mean to, it's just muscle memory, instinct.

X6-88; nosy bitch. He wants to know everything about everyone, and will shamelessly and explicitly poke and prod to get the information. This man will ask pointed questions about your husband that you don't want to answer, not just because it's X6 and you don't know him, but because you don't want to know the answer. He's that kind of person. Oh, you complain about your child? Well, why did you have one? Didn't want an abortion? Kept it for the husband? Well, do you like your husband? No? Did he even want kids? Also no? So, why did you have a kid? Sometimes, X6 isn't even trying to be deliberately confrontational, like a therapist from hell. He has moment of honest, if not overzealous, curiosity. But most of the time, he's just throwing shit in your face.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #x6-88 #piper wright #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage

[kai-anderson-whore]

Friends on the wall (Jimmy darling x curvy fem reader)

Summary: you and Jimmy have been best friends since baby's but not confessing your love to him until one argument that left Jimmy broken

Warnings: angst, Fluff, compering body to others, arguing I think that's it

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

It had been weeks since you last seen Jimmy after your argument about Maggie and how you didn't trust her making Jimmy angry.

"Jimmy I don't trust her what would she want with our kind" you snapped jimmy had stumbled into your trailer drunk again, you knew him your whole life and he used to be sick at the word alcohol and now he's down this spiral of drink.

"You don't know here y/n I've finally got something good for me someone who accepts me for me" he slurred he didn't know you accept him for who is your his best friend in love with him, you knew he wouldn't love you like you loved him.

You were curvy, chubby but you didn't care about your weight you were a freak too because you were overly flexible for your weight you could do anything, "Jimmy ever since she and that guy turned up nothing seems right our family going missing" you said.

"So what you trying to say that she's kidnapping them huh?" He yelled Stumbling over your table, "I don't know what she's doing but if I'm right Jimmy don't come running to me" was the last thing you told him.

Since that day Jimmy tried to talk to you but you ignored him which led him coming to your trailer door drunk, begging you to answer the door, you never did.

You had gone into town luckily you could without being called a freak only thing everyone saw about you was you weight, that's when Jimmy went looking for you in your trailer the door unlocked since you trusted everyone here except Maggie and Stanley.

Jimmy's eyes scanning the walls noticing you had all your pictures up of friends here all except him, he felt hurt you had taken them all down, "suppose we aren't really friends anymore" he sighed to himself.

But the feeling he has for you he would recall that friendly at all, Jimmy was lost in thought thinking how he fucked up, with the drinking, Ethel wouldn't have wanted that she always told him you were the woman for him everyone saw it not him, sure he did have feelings for you but that's what he thought they were feeling most people have a crush on their best friend once right?.

Jimmy jumped hearing the door of your trailer knocking, he went to answer it seeing eve "Jimmy have you seen y/n I can't find her anywhere" she asked Jimmy shook his head in sorrow "no she's not speaking to me" he sighed Eve gave him a synthetic smile "come on" she smiled said guiding him to his own trailer next to yours.

She sat him down on a chair with a sigh, "why isn't she talking to you Jimmy you're her best friend surely it's not that bad" eve said Jimmy shook his head "it is eve I fucked up she told me how she doesn't trust Maggie and I got mad I was drunk" he said running a hand down his face.

"Oh Jimmy she's only looking out for you" she said "I know and now I feel like shit I'm trying to lean off the booze but it's hard and I haven't seen Maggie in days" Jimmy sighed lost in thought.

Eve reassured him that she would hav3 a talk with you to try and forgive him, you had made it home whilst eve was talking to Jimmy you had returned home.

Placing your bag of grocerys and essentials down on the counter unpacking everything, "y/n" eve's voice chimed entering your trailer, "Hey eve do you want something to eat I just came back from shopping I'm starving" you chuckled putting the last of your shopping away.

"Just some tea if you don't mind" she smiled taking a seat by the table, "no problem" you smiled making the tea and a few sandwiches, "we need to talk about jimmy" you sighed hearing her words, you did feel bad not talking to him but you needed to move on he loves her not you.

"We got into an argument over Maggie so I decided to keep my distance" you said placing the tea on the table with the sandwiches, "I know he told me y/n, he's not doing good" she said sipping on the sweet tea.

"What do you mean" you asked you'd thought he'd be fine without you just having Maggie, "he's sober right now but it's killing him that your not talking to him your his best friend" eve said you felt guilty for making him feel like that.

"But he's got Maggie eve I don't want to keep going on about how I don't trust her to him either way it's only pushing him away futher" you said a stray tear slipping out your eye, "you love him don't you?" Eve asked now realising how you felt over the years.

"Of course I do eve I love him so much it hurts but he loves Maggie I mean how could he not she's much more prettier she's skinner but there's something about her I do not trust" you stated wiping a stray tear from your eye.

Eve gave about the 10th sympathetic smile of the day listening to your words she knew for years that you and Jimmy were meant to be together it was written in the stars if you will, she just wanted to tell you both and get it over with but you were kids and now Maggie was here so it was all tits up from here.

"maybe talk to him tell him how you really feel y/n I know you and Jimmy were meant to be together everyone does" eve said making you look up at her with a glimmer of hope in your eyes, "he doesn't see me more as a best friend eve I'd be a fool to ever think anything else" you sighed.

Eve finished her tea standing up to leave "just give it a shot y/n you never know" eve stated giving you a small smirk as if she knew something you agreed walking out with her to Jimmy's trailer.

You felt nervous like a cage of birds in your stomach banging off the cage instead of butterfly's, you second guessed what you should do as your knuckles knocked of the metal door.

Giving three knocks to the door awaiting for him to answer "go away" you heard on the other side of the door, "Jimmy it's me" you said allowing yourself in his trailer only to be seen by a sight that makes your heart break.

Jimmy sat on the chair of his trailer sobbing, "Oh jimmy" you sighed making your way to him your hand on his shoulder in attempt to comfort him, as he sobbed hard, "why weren't you speaking to me y/n I know that argument we had but I tried to apologise and you never opened the door or listened" he hiccuped.

"Jimmy I didn't mean to give you the rubber ear it's just I needed space and you have Maggie I didn't want to get in the way" you sighed feeling an immense amount of guilt washing over you, "but our friendship means a lot more then some girl y/n we've known each other our whole life's for christ sake i thought you hated me" Jimmy cried in his vulnerable state.

it was now or never to say how you really felt about him, "Jimmy I'm so so sorry I hated what happened I'm not taking back what I said about Maggie but I get why you love her she's a whole lot better than me she's prettier, smart and skinny and I am jealous of what you two have because every part of me says that should be us Jimmy I don't hate you, I haven't stopped loving you once" you ranted.

Jimmy's soft brown eyes on your ones his lips parted at your words, "you love me?" He asked needed reassurance that after all these years he vented to his mother that he loves you thinking you never felt the same turns out that you indeed do, "yes Jimmy how could I not" you chuckled taking his hand in yours seating next to him as he watched your every move.

"But I thought you only saw me as a best friend nothing more" he said confused his eyes now darting between your eyes and lips, "that and more Jimmy" you smiled Jimmy cupped you're cheek pulling you in for a kiss, he kissed you like it was the last day on earth, a wave of warmth coursed through you kissing him back, "I love you too" he whispered against your soft lips.

You pulled him by the collar of his shirt kissing him more deeply, happy it's finally out that you love Jimmy even more ecstatic that he loves you back, you felt on top of the world the luckiest person alive all those years you waited for his lips to be on yours feeling like electricity with every kiss he gave you in that moment you wanted nothing more.

#american horror story #evan peters #james patrick march #kit walker #tate langdon #ahs asylum #evan peters x reader #jimmy darling #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #evan peters x y/n #evan peters fanfic #evan peters smut #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters fluff #kyle spencer #austin sommers #ahs coven #ahs murder house #ahs cult #ahs hotel #ahs fandom #ahs 1984 #ahs apocalypse #ahs #peter maximoff #stan bowes

[silverstonesainz-archive]

[intense] with pierre please? 🥺

your wish is my command hehe

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

prompt: forehead touches - [ INTENSE ]:     in a moment where romantic tensions are running high, the sender leans forward to kiss the receiver for the first time, then changes their mind, and rests their foreheads together to disguise their original intentions.

"well, be honest. what do you think?" pierre asks, leaning on the kitchen island opposite of you.

you take one last bite of your dinner before setting your fork down. "it was good."

"like actually?"

"yes, actually." you confirm, pushing your plate forward slightly to show you're done.

pierre kidnapped you not too long ago, declaring that it was a mandatory hangout and that he wanted to cook for you. and as his best friend, you were not allowed to say no. you were a little hesitant about his cooking, but the frenchman impressed you tonight.

you watch as he moves around the kitchen, taking your plate and throwing it in the sink. he hums softly, "are you ready for dessert?"

"you made dessert too?" you raise a brow, "what's the occasion? why are you cooking?"

pierre clicks his tongue, turning away from the oven with his hands on his hips. "am i not allowed to cook for my favorite girl?"

your heart flutters at his words, but you try to ignore it. you were just a friend, he meant that in a friendly way.

"no i appreciate it, i do. but why?"

pierre shrugs, "i don't know. i just missed you, i wanted to treat my best friend to a nice time. more wine?" he holds up the bottle and she nods. he pours it half way before pouring himself some.

you smile over at him before taking a sip, "well thank you. it was really good."

one hour, two additional glasses of wine, and a slice of slightly undercooked chocolate cake later, you and pierre have moved over to his living room. you're both seated on the couch, sitting across from each other, laughing at something particularly funny that pierre said. you try to ignore the way your legs are thrown over his, the way his hand rests just below your knee. you watch as pierre finishes off the rest of his glass before setting it down on the coffee table before leaning back into the couch.

he looks so good. his blue eyes are glossed over, slightly hooded as the booze begins to course through his veins. his skin is beautifully tan, and even more so under the warm lighting. his stubble has grown in a lot more, much thicker than you remember it. in that moment, he truly looks like a god.

"a quoi penses-tu?" what are you thinking of?

"nothing..." you respond sheepishly, sipping the rest of your wine. pierre takes your empty glass of you to set it next to his.

when he leans back, he is closer to you. he reaches over, pushing your hair behind your shoulder. your heart beats quickly beneath your ribs, your hands suddenly clammy. you aren't sure if it's the alcohol giving you a bit of courage, or that he looks too perfect and you simply couldn't pass up the opportunity. you begin to shift closer to him, and he doesn't notice as he scrolls through his phone. it isn't until you come face to face with him do you suddenly second guess your thoughts. you feel your cheeks begin to heat up. you're far too close now, and your mind draws a blank on how to explain why you're suddenly only two inches from his face.

pierre cups your face, a gesture you were not expecting. if your cheeks weren't red before, they definitely are now. you see the way he looks at you, eyes suddenly filled with fire as he stares at you.

"you look beautiful tonight," he compliments, thumb stroking your skin.

"you do too."

your words make him grin widely, showing off his pearly white teeth. "yeah you think so?"

"pierre," you whine. he laughs loudly, shaking his head.

"i'm joking."

he licks his lips, eyes flicking from yours to your lips for a split second. you lean in again, coming closer than you did prior. but panic coats you at his proximity, at the prospect that your dream could turn into a reality. you panic so you readjust your head, instead pressing your forehead against his with your eyes closed and a heavy inhale.

pierre doesn't tease you like you expect him to. there's no cheeky comments or a little laugh that would normally bubble from him. when you open your eyes, you see that his are closed, his breathing steady.

you wanted to kiss him, you really did. but you also didn't want to risk losing him as a friend. so instead you both sit here, foreheads pressed together, with a silent promise to never speak of what could've been.

fluff party!

#lightsoutsainz fluff party #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fluff #pg10 drabble

[macbeth-n-cheese]

Something I've been thinking about

As the end-of-semester stress amounts, the student focuses on whatever random crap she thinks of instead of studying

I was looking at this exact gif on a post I've made a while ago, and the picture of "Mr. Mustache" caught my attention. Not the picture itself, but the nuances of it, its very existence in this specific shot.

First you have Mustache, looking to the side with an elegant getup, neck straight, symbolising the Empire and all it stands for. When you see him, it's easy to picture lines of marching soldiers in perfect sync, the violent punishment of whoever fell outside their boundaries, and the narrow-mindedness of men who had too much power in their hands. He is strict, "correct" (in his own perspective), stiff and final.

And in front of him you have Klaus Jäger, a decorated Standartenführer from the most elite organisation in the Empire, the absolute crème de la crème... and he has his tunic unbuttoned, his undershirt showing through, that little smirk and laid-back posture with a glass of booze in his hand as he tries to socialise with a captured enemy. Klaus in this scene is the perfect antithesis of Mustache: carefree, relaxed, accessible, open-minded and approachable. His own man.

Speaking from a military perspective, you don't go around with your uniform like that if you aren't in the locker room. Klaus was on duty, with a picture of his boss looking over his shoulder, and yet he chose to be this informal. He chose to appear careless and rebellious, just like he chose Nikolai for his task.

Now, this divides into two main ideas in my mind:

Jäger knows exactly what he does, and isn't afraid to cross some lines in order to achieve his goals. He picked a friendly, almost rebellious approach to get Nikolai's guard down, and make him see the German as an ally of sorts, someone that disregards the rules of the group he belongs to and can be trusted. He asks for Nikolai's name —asks how his friends call him iirc— and offers his own, putting them in equal terms and reinforcing it by the extremely cute and baby equivalence he makes with their names. He purposefully wants to put Nikolai at ease and get him to cooperate, setting himself as and playing the part of an outlier. To him, Nikolai is an asset and a target for revenge, and Jäger is the cold and calculating villain.

Or he genuinely is like that.

(the way he goes "omg, same name bros!" ;--;)

Klaus is intelligent, stubborn and proud, and he knows how to navigate his circles and balance his doubtful loyalty to the cause with good behaviour and excellent performance. He honestly and genuinely is his own man and works according to his own goals and his sense of duty (he's a soldier, not a partisan). His interest in Nikolai is personal, as a rival and someone on par with his own abilities, and someone he has a personal score to settle. In this approach, his friendliness would be genuine, and so would the contrast between him and the photo. I like this, if only because it shows a simplicity we don't see much in an antagonist.

(A German officer in WW2 that isn't one of those is also a rare treat, that I appreciate with all of my heart lol. Yes, he had a big bold "windmill of death" flag on his tank, but that was literally the symbol of the country.)

In the end, though, I think Klaus has elements of both versions, and that's what makes him such a good character to me. He has some dimension, some subjectiveness that I really enjoy. Jäger is both the "scary German enemy" and "cool friendly guy whose hand shaked like gelatine when he had to threaten an innocent woman because he just isn't like that (and that's why I think he's both a bad and a great liar depending on the subject matter. If he feels any guilt/remorse/thinks it's unjustified, the farce is done)."

Idk man I just think he's neat :")

#t 34 #klaus jager #my weird rambling #character study #me simping for another 40yo #random ww2 stuff i make

[ducknotinarow]

"Sooooo, you seem to be cozying up to Angel Dust pretty well, aren't you?" ( AlastorHusk c: )

| Muse interaction

Husk, just hoped Angel would be okay, he knew Angel was tough and was handling everything with Valentino best he could. Not much one can do when your soul is no longer you own but still Husk couldn't help but find himself to worry. Yeah hell was well Hell and you can't be all that shocked by what you find here. But Angel was at the Hotel under the pretense of being 'redeemable' and that might be the only way Angel can get out of this.

Husk understood all to well the heavy weight of those damn chains that binned you soul to the one you sold your soul off to felt. He felt the tug of his own by Alastor before. Only reason he was even at this run down so called hotel in the first place.

"Sooooo, you seem to be cozying up to Angel Dust pretty well, aren't you?"

Oh great speaking of all of that. The cat demon thought as he kept his back toward's the Radio Demon. Not for long of course Husk had learned over his time of being under his thumb how to in the least make the best of his situation enough to least get them to throw in booze for him helping out in this tacky place. Sighing under his breath he lowers his wings so to better look at Alastor from across the counter top. He let an ear flick as he set down the glasses he been in the middle of cleaning down before facing the demon.

"Eh been here long 'nough figured don't hurt to least hold a friendly chat here and there right?" Husk really didn't want Alastor of all demons to know just how fond he had grow for Angel Dust. It's not like it would go against their own contract. But Husk has dealt with Alastor long enough to know better than to play things close to the chest. He already lost his soul in one gamble. He wasn't willing to gamble anything more.

Too bad he didn't know when to call it sooner.

"That ain't an issue no is it Boss?" Tossing that in always seemed to at least appease Alastor. "I mean Angel drinks maybe the most outta the rest of the staff and visitors here. So bound to have to chat here and there. Besides the Princess ask me to help keep an eye on him."

No one really understood why Alastor was here at the hotel it just didn't make sense even with the reasoning he gave. Husk had a hard time understanding the 'motive' himself sure they got a crack out of seeing others fail but still. But if it was something that kept him on the princess' good side. Something Al even seemed to wish to do? seemed a good way to defend what he was doing. Well hopefully keeping them out of his personal business.

#muse| husk #questionablemuses #[ sold my soul to save my power -questionablemuses] #muse interaction #ic reply #stay queued

[brownieboui]

At Dead Of Night (Arthur’s Story)

Hello! This is a piece based on the horror game At Dead of Night. Spoilers for anyone who doesn’t know the game (or teasers that may interest you to play it).

Fair CW: Depicted violence, and mentions of ghosts

————————————————————————————————

It was a breezy evening just before the night of the attack. Arthur had been coming from an annual spring festival hosted by his coworkers in the woods. He was a philosophy professor at the University of Liverpool, you know, those college professors who teach you about the history of beliefs from ancient philosophers and stuff. Arthur wobbled along a trail, he was looking for his friends who had left him behind. Not on purpose, of course, but you know how drunk and corned people get.

A bit fuddled by the party, Arthur managed to stumble across a mansion just at the top of a ledge known as the Sea View Hotel.

Of course, no one knew what had gone on inside, everything seemed ordinary. An average hotel up on a ledge, surely a popular one just by the sculpt of its castle-like architecture. It all seemed just fine. Except, it wasn't.

Arthur wandered himself inside, believing that his coworkers had all checked in for the night. It was the weekend after all.

There, he came across the hotel’s potential owner, James Hall. Mr. Hall was behind the registration desk, organizing some keys that were out of place with a neutral but awkward smile. He was an awkward and middle-aged fellow himself. He wore a hat over his head with a formal yet silly outfit of black and red. And, God, he was creepy. At least that's what Arthur had only thought.

"Ah, a new guest! Come in, come in. You must be Arthur, yes?" Mr. Hall kindly greeted Arthur with a firm handshake and pat on the back. "The name's Jimmy, if I must say so myself."

Though Arthur had been intoxicated, he doesn't suspect a thing out of Mr. Hall’s genuine and keen greeting. Maybe a bit too friendly of a hotel priorietor to greet his guests this way.

"Has—Has there been a check in? My mates and I—"

"Yes! Now, don't you worry. Your friends have all booked rooms for the evening," Jimmy handed him a key. "Your room is 102. Just take the lift to the first floor and it'll be just on your left."

Arthur only half-smiled, turning around before wobbling to the elevator.

"Oh! Arthur, before you go," Jimmy exclaimed. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in the, uh, entertainment tonight? You see, I play this—sociopath called Hugo Punch, yes. Y'know, says things you aren't normally supposed to say," He chuckled, soon clearing his throat. "It would be a real delight if you'd come and see."

Arthur scratched the nape of his neck, his eyes watching the desk before lifting up to see the man’s eyes filled with petition. "That's fine. I've had a long day, I would rather just go and rest for the night."

"Ah, you sure I can't twist your arm on this a bit? Tonight was going to be an extraordinary performance I came up with myself!" Jimmy continued.

Arthur shook his head, "I apologize. But, I really should go and rest for tomorrow."

Jimmy slowly frowned, "Yes, I suppose you're right."

Arthur turned around, disappearing behind the elevator doors that took him up to his floor.

What he had felt in the lift was a chill up his spine. There were scratches along the silver doors, while the color of its interior had looked rather more pale. Arthur even noticed a deep but faint big stain of what seemed like red along the elevator’s floor. Something obviously didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t tell whether it was the booze or the hotel’s creaky and slow elevator.

Arthur found his way up to his room, just about ready to hit the sack. But, even his own room didn’t seem right either. It smelled of bleach, everywhere. It wasn’t strong enough to stifle someone to death, but it was enough to notice and wonder. He covered his nose with his sleeve, attempting to fall asleep.

But, he’s suddenly disturbed once more by a heavy thud outside his room. Confused, he got up from his bed. If the hotel hadn’t been creeping him out enough already, he went to investigate the noise.

Opening the door, the sound of frustrated muttering is heard at the end of the hall. Arthur peaked his head to see the source, witnessing a black body bag getting dragged by who had seemed to be...Jimmy?

Arthur was confused, frightened actually. He grabbed his phone off of the nightstand, and attempted to call the police. But, there wasn't any service, especially at a hotel near the water.

Knowing it'd be stupid, Arthur decided to leave his room, as quietly as possible, and made his way to the elevator. He got to the ground floor, it was empty, and brought a rush of adrenaline.

"Arthur? Have you changed your mind?" A voice echoed through the halls as Arthur reached for the hotel's landline. He didn’t hear a dial tone over Jimmy's voice, "Your friends are all there already."

The scraping sound of the floor maked Arthur’s heart thump in his throat as Jimmy peered at him from down the hallway. His hat and blazer were missing, he held a toothy grin as Arthur's stomach hurled. A bat in one hand, while his skin and clothes covered in what had seemed to be the blood of his other guests from afar, "Waiting for you."

Arthur shallowly gulped, slowly shaking his head. He dropped the telephone, taking slow steps back as Jimmy only walked just as slowly forward, his twisted grin didn’t disappear.

Just before Arthur could think to run, Jimmy was already a step ahead. He began to giggle, leading to a bloodcurdling cackle as he sprinted towards the professor. Arthur almost tripped as he stumbled backwards, just in the nick of time before turning around and sprinting as well.

He ran, and ran, hoping he’d outrun the hostile hotel owner. Then, finally he came across a room marked “Store”. He slipped through the door, just before Jimmy turned the corner.

Arthur covered his mouth, pressing his back up against the door as a way to barricade it. 

“I smell a bad egg, Artie!” Jimmy taunted just a moment later. Arthur listened for the disappearance of his footsteps, finally dropping his hand to breathe properly.

“What the bloody hell is this place?” He sighed out loud, slowly dropping to sit on the floor.

His fingers entangled with his hair, his forehead in his knees. Arthur had only needed a place to sleep that night because of the long drive back to his home, and his lack of sobriety earlier on. That sudden rush of adrenaline had surely sobered him up then.

While he caught his breath, the sound of static bounced through the room. It sounded nearby, and muffled. Could it have been a radio?

Arthur picked up his head, his eyes landing on the desk with piled up antiques and paperwork. He stood up, seeing what looked like a radio. A very peculiar one.

It was marked “Ghost & Spirit Voice Receiver”, with a bunch of buttons and an antenna on it in an old-fashioned manner. Then, the static is heard again. Only this time, a voice is vaguely heard behind it.

“H—Hello?” Arthur called, narrowing his eyes down at the receiver box as he picked it up. He messed with the dials, bringing it up to his ear, “Is anyone there?”

The static continued to whir, and a faint but audible voice began to speak.

“…Can—Can you hear me…?”

“Yes, yes, I can!” Arthur replied, watching the box with surprise, “Are you…all right?”

“…I don’t…understand—” The voice spoke once more, but the static was too great.

Then, the lights in the store room flickered. Arthur’s heart raced as he gasped. The box was silent.

Eager to hear the mysterious voice again, Arthur decided to leave the room. Of course, he mentally prepared himself for another possible encounter. And then, he gently opened the door.

He stepped out into the hallway, it was empty. But, the eerie feeling of a maniacal murderer within the hotel’s walls had only caused Arthur to feel trapped, intimidated.

Arthur began to walk back to the hotel’s reception. It felt weird, different from before. He looked down at the receiver, the static came back, but it was barely heard.

"Come on, come on. Give me something, anything," Arthur quietly muttered while looking around frantically.

Eventually, his eyes landed on the flickering hallway lights that led to an open and empty ballroom. He followed it, he remembered how the lights flickered the same way in the store room just before the receiver began to buzz.

Arthur found himself standing in the middle of the ballroom.

"Can you hear me?" Arthur asked the receiver.

The receiver droned with static, "...Yeah. I can hear you."

"Who…am I speaking with?"

"...The name's Harvey. I—I run the place," The voice said as clear as day. Arthur gulped, confused and in for scrutiny.

“What happened to you? Are you…are you dead?” He asked.

“…I guess you could say that,” Harvey spoke. “That bastard did a number on me, always finding some way to get rid of me every chance he got. Hell, I should’ve just thrown him and his mother out the second he messed with me—right in my own bloody room, in my own hotel!”

Arthur’s brows knitted, “Who?”

The receiver began to rattle with static just before Harvey’s faint voice spoke once more, “…Jimmy.”

The static cut out, and the receiver went silent.

"No, no!" Arthur quietly muttered. He held the receiver tight, hoping Harvey would come back.

But, someone else did instead.

"Art-ie," Jimmy called down the corridor. "Where are you?"

"Oh, for God’s sake," Arthur sighed, his heart began to race again. He hid in the ballroom backstage, waiting for sound cues of where Jimmy would potentially be.

He covered his mouth, footsteps along the creaky floorboards was all he could hear. Arthur’s stomach began to churn, he held his breath.

“Lord, let this not be my last night on Earth,” He silently pleaded.

As quiet as he was, his heart dropped as the receiver started to buzz, louder than ever.

“No, no, no!” He whispered, grabbing the box from the floor and shoving it between his legs. “Not now!”

He shut his eyes tight, he heard Jimmy had stopped moving. Arthur’s lips quivered as he slowly breathed in and out, beads of sweat forming around his forehead.

“Please.”

A moment later, he hears a frustrated groan, along with heavy footsteps of flouncing.

When he knew for sure he was safe, he gasped for air, almost choking. Arthur picked up the receiver from his lap, the static was still playing.

“Harvey?” He called.

There was nothing but the screaming of static.

Arthur sighed, “What happened?” He asked silently. "What happened to you, Harvey?"

***

Arthur wandered along the desolated corridors of the second floor, searching through almost every room with caution.

After discovering Jimmy was responsible for Harvey's death, Arthur had tried to put some pieces together to figure out what had happened to him.

He recalled Harvey saying something about his room, yet he didn't specify. So, Arthur had thought of the idea to go through the hotel’s rooms. The ones he was able to get into, of course.

Room after room, key after key he came across, Arthur didn't find much that could’ve been connected to Harvey somehow. A stash of whiskey, a lighter and turpentine, a blood-stained cloth rag, a rolling pin wrapped in a washing line, and an abandoned engagement ring. But, none of those things refreshed Harvey's memory.

Until, in the East wing of the second floor, the lights down the hall started to flicker again.

"Harvey…?" Arthur called, walking towards the end of the hallway.

But, he heard footsteps. His throat became dry, Arthur had forgotten he was also dealing with a murderer inside the hotel. It had been a while since he'd seen or heard Jimmy.

Frantically, Arthur slipped into a room with a key he found earlier on hidden in another room.

"God, do all these rooms smell of bleach?" Arthur shook his head.

He listened for where Jimmy would be, occasionally looking through the spyglass. Until, he saw a shadow near the same hallway with the flickering lights.

At first, he believed it was Jimmy. But, he was proven wrong by the sounds of distant yelling. He couldn’t quite make out who it was between at first, but he remembered a certain low pitch in one of the voices that had belonged to Harvey.

“How could this be? Isn’t Harvey dead?” Arthur silently asked.

Believing the coast was clear by the long silence, Arthur fled the room. He quietly made his way toward the hallway he was most certain of where he’d heard the potential arguing, but it wasn’t there.

Arthur turned on the receiver, it buzzed just as loud as before.

“Harvey? Are you there?” Arthur asked.

“…Yeah. It’s me.”

“I heard your voice from the other room. Were you…in some kind of row?”

“…Jimmy’s mother didn’t believe me when I said he wasn’t right in the head. Of course, she took his side when he accused that psychiatrist of harassing him.”

Arthur stopped to think, “Had this been a reason for why Jimmy would want you gone?”

“…Of course it was, I bet Rose was even going along with the entire bloody thing.”

The receiver cut out again. Arthur stood motionless, listening for something, anything.

But, it was only silence surrounding him, too much of an eerie feeling as he looked down both sides of the corridor.

He continued to search through rooms, turning on the receiver now and then to guide himself to the rest of Harvey’s story. Eventually, he found himself standing in another room that had been empty.

Arthur turned on the receiver, the static whirring loudly.

“Is it Harvey?” He asked.

“…Yeah. I’m here.”

“I’m inside room 215. Did something happen involving you?”

“…I don’t know, I—can’t remember,” Harvey said.

Arthur sighed, “Are you sure? Anything, tell me anything.”

The receiver only droned with static.

Arthur looked around the room, searching through all the cabinets and drawers. Until, he found a crossbow inside of a storage box.

“Why the hell would something like this be here?” He muttered. He turned back to the receiver, "I've found a crossbow. D-Do you remember anything about a crossbow?"

"...Yes. Jimmy set up a trap for me when he didn't want to play nice. Damn thing costed me stitches, I nearly lost my leg!"

Arthur hummed, "What happened after that?"

"...I don't know."

Arthur sighed, switching the receiver off.

What Arthur could only put together was that Harvey and Jimmy didn't get along too well, eventually leading to Harvey's demise.

He continued to put clues together, he was also beginning to get better at hiding from Jimmy as well.

But, he was only fooled.

"Arthur!" Jimmy groaned from down the hall. "I know you're here."

Arthur had believed Jimmy was on the opposite end, giving him the opportunity to hide around the corridor. It was a tight spot, the keys he had didn't belong to any of the rooms nearby.

Just as he believed Jimmy was gone by the sudden vanishing of his footsteps, Arthur let out a shaky breath of relief. He turned the corner, continuing on with his search for answers.

But, his blood ran cold as a set of creaky and quick steps were heard from behind him. Just when Arthur could turn around, he felt a hard surface pull him in from around his neck. He was pulled in by a bat's barrel, choking him as his body was forced against another.

"I've found you at last, Artie," A voice taunted while he choked, Arthur immediately recognized it as Jimmy's. He continued to hold the bat against Arthur's neck, ignoring his gasps for air and weak attempts to push him away.

With all his strength, Arthur rammed Jimmy against the wall with his back. He grunted in response, but didn't let him go. Arthur continued to try and push him off, but nothing worked! Until, his vision began to blur, and it became harder and harder for him to breathe.

“Bad eggs need crackin’, y’know,” Jimmy muttered with a smile. He held the bat closer, getting a good grip on Arthur’s almost unconscious body. And then, his hands turned in a swift twist.

“It’s best to whack ‘em hard, and crack the shell. That’s the way to do it,” He continued. Then, he released the grip on Arthur’s neck, letting his body drop on the floor face-first. “But, you were more than just a bad one, Artie.”

Jimmy noticed the dropped voice receiver that Arthur had been holding. The static continued to fuzz. He picked it up, twisting the knob at the side so the static would shut off before looking down at Arthur’s body, “You were a very rotten egg, Arthur. Very, very rotten.”

***

Sea View Hotel had gone under another investigation in the year 2021. It was found that James Alexander Hall was arrested for potential kidnapping and murder. He had pleaded innocent, stating that he was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, and that his alter-ego, Hugo Punch, was the mastermind behind all the disappearances that had taken place in that very same mansion.

But, the jury had reached a guilty verdict, some believing he was sick in the head as many taunted him with before.

The lifeless souls continue to roam the vacant Sea View Hotel, the ones I’ve gotten in contact with during my very own stay: a little girl, a doctor, an innocent hotel owner, a guilty and distressed mother, and a curious college professor. Arthur was Jimmy’s last victim out of God knows how many more.

His story rests in my mind like a broken record, I could almost picture him too. The frightened look on his face when he first saw Jimmy covered in his friends’ blood, the way he spoke to the spirit box while a previous victim of Jimmy guided him through Jimmy’s wrongdoing.

Every side of the story I’ve heard that night will stay in my mind for a while. But, nothing had brought such a traumatic feeling in my gut until I discovered in the paper that six college professors, including Arthur Pruett, were missing, and were last seen just about a mile away from the hotel. 

Arthur must’ve been so scared, wondering how he and his friends’ lives had been cut so soon because of a monster such as Jimmy Hall.

My name is Maya, and my friends and I survived Jimmy’s killing spree. But, no one knows what tricks a man like Jimmy has up his sleeve. Not until the very dead of night.

#at dead of night #jimmy hall #horror story #ghosts #suspense #short fiction #short story #mystery

[waiting-on-a-dream]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭

Link: https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/31304

Haruto: [Light footsteps]

Daisuke: [Puffs]

Haruto: [Opens door] Hey. Who allowed you to smoke in here?

Daisuke: Hm? No one stopped me though.

Haruto: Put it out. Can't have you getting distracted during your interrogation.

Daisuke: Alright, alright. [Presses the cigarette to the table] *Hiss*

Haruto: [Sits down] Now then. Are you nervous?

Daisuke: A little bit? I don't really know what you're going to do or why I'm even being interrogated so...

Haruto: I'm doing this to find about your murder. Who was your victim, why did you kill them, and how you did it. To be honest, I'm pretty sure I'm not cut out for such a job, but what choice do I have?

Daisuke: ...Aha, I see. I can sort of understand that part about not being cut out for a certain job.

Haruto: You said you were an entrepreneur, right?

Daisuke: Yep. I work in a trading business.

Haruto: What? Are you not enough of a risk taker or something?

Daisuke: Something like that. I'm not very good at dealing with bad customers, you see. Customer service and stuff.

Haruto: That sounds like a nightmare. Sucks to be you.

Daisuke: Yeah, it is.

Haruto: Well, onto the interrogation. How’s life in Milgram?

Daisuke: I wouldn't rate this place 10 stars, but it's okay. The food Mayu-chan makes is decent, and I get my cigarettes and booze when I ask for them. It's like being forced to live in a prison motel hybrid.

Haruto: Wow. You really aren't taking Milgram seriously, huh?

Daisuke: Huh~? To be honest, I don't care where I end up at this point.

Haruto: Why's that?

Daisuke: It's a secret.

Haruto: Boo~ Well, it's okay. I'll get it out of you eventually.

Daisuke: Feel free to try.

Haruto: Hm. How have you been getting along with everyone here?

Daisuke: Ah...I've been friendly with everyone, but no one seems to enjoy my company much. They have such bad taste!

Haruto: Yeah, Ichi-kun mentioned that he doesn't like you much.

Daisuke: He did?

Haruto: ...Oops. Was I supposed to disclose that?

Daisuke: How can he be so cruel? Boohoohoo~ I've been so nice to him, answering his questions and all...

Haruto: Uh. I've been receiving complaints from Yui about you trying to flirt with her?

Daisuke: What? She's pretty. I didn't really mean anything by it.

Haruto: Just try to tone it down. I don't like listening to her whining.

Daisuke: Okay, okay.

[Bell rings, mechanical sounds in the back]

Haruto: Guess your interrogation is over.

Daisuke: Yay.

Haruto: Now then. Sing your sins.

#prison guard: suzuki haruto #prisoner 003: iwamoto daisuke #clown to clown communication

[flowerinyourcare]

Reminiscence of the Unfinished Wine - Chapter 6

🍷 September seasonal permanent event; banner characters Shylock, Murr, Bradley; 2022/09/11 - 2022/09/19 JST 🍷

--

Bradley: Man, drinkin' in the daytime is the best. There's plenty'a wine to go around.

Akira: (I wonder if it's okay for him to leave everything up to Murr, and not be serving customers at all… Maybe he isn't taking this seriously…?)

Nero: Huh… is that how he's gonna play this…

Brad: Hah… Damn, that's good! And I can drink as much as I want.

Tourist: …Seeing that guy is making me want to stick around and have a drink.

Tourist: Ah, me too…! Do you want to get in line to try and buy what he's having?

Upon closer inspection, more and more people on the street were stopping and gathering around, interested in what Bradley was enjoying so heartily. 

Akira: (Or maybe this is what he was aiming for the whole time…!?)

I found my eyes drawn to Bradley, and he smiled at me wryly.

Bradley: There's more than one way to do business, kiddo.

Meanwhile, Shylock, who had set up shop in the stall next to Bradley and company, was not about to be outdone.

Tourist: This is amazing…! So many fantastic wines…

Tourist: There are even wines from a winery in the Eastern country that closed down a long time ago. Are these really for sale?

Shylock: Yes, of course. And they are only available for today, so please don't miss out.

Tourist: Oh… this wine was my grandfather's favorite, back when he was still alive.

Shylock: My, your grandfather must have been quite discerning. Compared to the others, that wine is rather young, but it is a marvelous drink that is said to carry a hundred years' worth of enjoyment in one glass.

Shylock: The flavor is soft and elegant on the tongue… If you decide to try it, I hope you can enjoy the taste of your grandfather's memories.

With an extensive collection of rare wines that would make any wine connoisseur swoon, and Shylock's elegant and masterful service, the wines were selling like hotcakes.

The other wizards and I were helping as well, contributing to the overall sales.

Nero: Here're some complimentary snacks. It's just simple seared bacon and cheese, but it would pair well with a glass of wine.

Tourist: They're even serving snacks? That's very thoughtful.

Tourist: Over here, please, sir!

Faust: More and more people are showing up… I think it would be a better idea to leave the cooking to you.

Nero: Then you'd have to take over the customer service, Teach. You'll be the first face the customers see, so you gotta be friendly n' approachable, got it?

Faust: Approachable…?

Nero: Don't gimme that look. Even though it's customer service, it's still just a festival stall, so you can be casual about it.

Faust: I'm no good at that kind of thing, no matter how casual. 

Nero: It'll be fine. You're a quick learner. Look, here's a customer.

Tourist: Excuse me.

Faust: ……

Nero: Welcome. If you're lookin' for snacks, my friendly colleague over here will be happy to serve you.

Faust: …Here you go. Please enjoy.

Tourist: Oh, you're a pretty good cook, aren't you? Alright, I'll dig in.

(fade to black and back)

Rutile: Thank you very much. But are you sure it's okay to spoil me like this?

Tourist: Watching you drink is so refreshing that it's making my own wine taste better. Here, drink, drink.

Rutile: Okay, if you insist! …Hah, it's so delicious!

Tourist: How does that young man do it… He downed it all in one go, and his face is hardly flushed at all…

Tourist: How many bottles have you gone through on your own, now?

Bradley: …Huh?

Bradley: …Oi, Murr. Bring me ten bottles of Calamity Wine. I can't be losin' to that pipsqueak.

Tourist: Wow, this guy is amazing too…! The empty bottles are piling up around them!

Rutile: Wow, Mr. Bradley, you can hold your alcohol very well!

Bradley: Naturally. I can drink this kinda booze like it's water.

Rutile: That reminds me of something Dr. Figaro told me! He said that newborn babies are sometimes bathed in alcohol instead of water! …Pwah. I'd like another bottle, please~!

Bradley: I gotcha. Here.

Tourist: Hey, who do you think will win? My money's on the blonde one.

Tourist: I'm gonna go with the sexy, scarred one!

Before long, a betting pool had been started for their drinking contest, and the crowd was abuzz with energy.

Rutile: It feels bad to be the only one drinking. Please have a drink as well, Lord Oz! Mr. Shylock said you should try some.

Oz: Shylock said…

Rutile: Mr. Shylock said that, even though you're serious and won't talk much about how something tastes, you still have a discerning palate.

Oz: I have lived a long time, and had many opportunities to speak. I don't feel the need to take them all.

Rutile: I'm sure there are subtleties that only someone with your experience can taste. Can you tell me what you think about this wine?

Oz: ……

Oz accepted the glass of wine, and brought it to his lips.

Oz: …It is thick and heavy, like a pitch-black night. It is a taste that should be savored over time, not consumed in one swallow.

Rutile: Wow, that description is perfect for this wine…! It definitely tastes heavy.

Rutile: As expected of Lord Oz, your words are perfectly chosen to say exactly what you mean. How about this wine over here?

Oz: …It has a unique aftertaste. The fruity aroma lingers even after it's gone down your throat. It's a sensation that will only be understood by people who have experienced it.

Tourist: Ah… What thoughtful sentiments… Perhaps the less time you spend talking about a wine, the more compelling its flavors become.

Tourist: Hey, is that guy a wine critic or something? You see, he has a certain dignified air.

Tourist: Oh, no doubt he is a well-known expert in his field. I can tell just by watching.

(fade to black and back)

Tourist: Haah, it gets kinda boring just drinking wine all day…

Arthur: Are you thirsty? Here, have a drink.

Tourist: Hey, this is wine, right? Aren't you a little young to be drinking?

Akira: Please don't worry. It's a wine glass, but the drink is only grape juice.

Arthur: Drinking juice from this glass makes it look like I'm drinking wine. It's a little cool, isn't it?

Tourist: Yes! It makes you look much more grown-up…

Tourist: Man, now I want some grape juice too. I'd like a glass!

Mother: Oh, something that isn't wine. Excuse me, do you mind if I bring my kids over?

Akira: Sure, go ahead! Anyone is welcome.

Arthur: Madam, you seem to have a lot of bags. If you aren't in a hurry, I can get you a chair so you can rest your feet.

Mother: Well, thank you, that would be lovely.

Child: You're so cool! You look like a prince from a storybook!

Arthur: Haha, what an honor.

Akira: (You're saying that to someone who's an actual prince…!!)

Thanks to the efforts and cooperation of all the wizards, the flow of customers was steady, and both shops were thriving.

Because the two shops were side by side, customers who stopped at one shop would move along to the other, and so on.

Akira: (For now, the amount of wine sold appears to be about even… but…)

Faust: This is no good. The wine should be here by now…

The prepared wines from Shylock's collection were quickly running low.

At this rate, we would have no wine left to sell.

--

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

#mhyktl #mahoyaku tl #mahoyaku #mahoyaku translation #promise of wizard #// event #// shylock #// THIS CHAPTWER WAS SO CUTE AND IM SO IN LOVE WITH RUTILE . HTANKS

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Hello. First of all thank you for the amazing Vyn content! Have a small request, maybe it'll inspire you to write another funny shenanigan. I'd like to see how would guys react if Rosa appeared in NXX hq in a sexy attire, specifically in a suit (there is only bra underneath the suit jacket), with make up etc. She droped by hq to leave some documents for example. She can meet all of the boys together or approach them personally as each of them is busy with their own stuff. Thanks!

NXX gets some service (NSFW)

Omg this is by far one of the most amusing asks I have ever gotten. Like, I just got up from a nap when I checked my phone and my jaw pretty much dropped when I saw this. Thank you for giving me a wake up nosebleed, anon!

I decided to really have fun here so expect everyone to be written a bit OOC or have their characterizations exaggerated.

(Goddamnit Artem. For a fictional character and even in this set up it's taken a lot of work to have you included in this. Fuck.)

I put in a bonus at the end all in good fun (also, as a shameless attempt at wish-fulfillment)! It's pretty long in itself but I wanted to append it by the end of this piece instead of making it its own post so people read it in intended sequence and aren't too....weirded out. It also ended on a questionable note, I blame it on booze

Warning: NSFW. Please do not interact if minor, etc.

You've always wanted to do something like this. Ever since you have been working with the eligible, unattached, handsome bachelors of the NXX Investigation Team, it has been one of your wildest dreams to get to know each of them on a more intimate basis.

You have never been given a good reason to, of course, until you have encountered one fateful moment wherein a brush with certain death has reminded you that yes, death may come at any time, that yes, increased chances of kicking the bucket comes with your profession, and yes, death will come probably when you least expect it.

Funnily enough, it is this realization that set your resolve to do that one thing you have always wanted to do.

A bucket list of a single item that you absolutely must do before you die.

Fuck each NXX member senseless. Go, you.

Luke

The first one on your list is your one and only best friend, Luke Pearce.

While you know that he always carried a torch for you, possibly since childhood, your friend Luke has always been so pure and so next-door neighbor friendly (never mind that at some point in your life, next-door meant next-door to your own room) that he does not seem to be hook-up material; certainly not someone who you would find hanging out in a bar that is not rife with hired killers, contraband, and information.

(Why Luke can be found in bars rife with killers for hire, contraband, and information is another matter entirely)

But one thing you could bank on though, is how easy it is to fluster him into doing things--especially if it is you doing the flustering.

The plan is easy enough: Wear something seductive, come on strongly, then profit off the rewards. Or something like that. You just know that once you get his cute, handsome face blushing you've already won half the battle.

- Where are you Luke?

- I'm fixing my bike here in the auto bay. I'm about to finish up though, where do you wanna meet Watson?

- Wait there. I'll come over.

The NXX Headquarters automobile bay located in the basement level is spacious, designed to fit around twenty vehicles, but always almost deserted by virtue of the NXX only having five active members at the moment.

And that among those five active members only one is knowledgeable enough about vehicle maintenance to have a legitimate reason to stay there for more than an hour - Luke.

Needless to say, if you were to do the dirty in the automobile bay, and the recipient of said dirty deed is somehow named Luke Pearce, then the location should be ideal.

So you strut along in your stiletto heels, and larger-than-usual suit jacket that covers you up to the middle of your thighs, almost up to the same length as your skirt--if you wore a skirt, that is.

Your heels emphasize your foot falls in the stairwell leading to the basement level, lending a certain feel of authority to the way you walk.

You bank on this temporary sense of dominance; you certainly need a bit of courage to pull off what you want to pull off today.

As you exit the stairwell and cross the threshold to the automobile bay, you see Luke nearby next to his motorbike, gathering his tools.

"Luke," you call out. You do not need to shout; the acoustics of the place carries your voice quite well.

"Heya, Watson," Luke says, preoccupied with loading the tools into his bike's top box to give you a look. "Why'd you--whoa."

Finally he manages to give you a glance.

"Rosa. Um. You look rather..."

"Rather?"

"Uh. Nice? Um. Really nice...make-up."

You sigh. Of course he'd react like this. He never saw you in anything other than your standard work clothes except in those rare cases where you meet in formal functions, like a ball, and even that happened only once, when he infiltrated the formal event as a waiter.

"What's the occasion?" He asks, fumbling around for words. "Um...I could have picked you up where you're more comfortable, you know. You didn't have to go all the way here..." his voice trails off.

You have the feeling that you'd lose steam and go cold feet the longer you let him flounder about, so you steel yourself and cross the distance between you two.

And, throwing caution to the wind, so to speak, you reach for the collar of his outer jacket and pull him in for a kiss.

For a sweet few seconds you could feel him giving in. For those few seconds you could feel him tentatively return your kiss, his tongue mimicking the movements of your own.

Until he regains composure, when his NSB agent mode finally kicks in.

He extricates himself from your embrace, taking firm hold of your shoulders and pushes you away from him at arm's length. "Rosa," he says, tone grave. "Who put you up to this?"

You blink, totally caught unaware about your friend's complete change in demeanor: first he is your friendly, soft, easily-flustered best friend that you have grown up with, the next moment he does a 180 and you see him channeling that same coldness you would only briefly see from someone slightly unhinged like Vyn.

"N-no one," you say, but you are so unnerved you find yourself stammering.

"This is so unlike you, Rosa," his grasp on your shoulders tighten, and you can almost feel him resisting the urge to shake you into common sense. "Tell me, who put you up to this, why, and where can I find--"

"I said no one, it's just me, Luke," you repeat what you say, now grasping at what remaining courage you could still grab on to. "I wanted to surprise you, is all."

"Surprise? What kind of surprise?" Luke's brows furrow--nothing about this situation makes sense to him. Everything about this is totally coming out left field for him. Of course he will think something is suspicious.

What you decide to do next surprises even you.

"This kind of surprise," you say, and you shrug off your suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor, revealing your actual outfit for the day: lingerie, a lacy confection of bra and panties so sheer one could almost see through them. Which Luke is doing at the moment.

"Shit."

He then quickly gathers you into his arms and, running, carries you to a far corner of the automobile bay where Artem's SUV is parked. "Are you insane?!" he hissed. "There's security cameras here!"

"You act as if anyone else apart from the group can access the security cam footage," you say.

"What, you don't care if Vyn sees you pull off this stunt?"

You already thought about this of course. As long as you keep your antics within the NXX Headquarters premises, you are essentially ensuring that the owner of the estate, Vyn Richter, will be the only one privy to your misadventures.

And that is fine--you want him to know that you are coming for him, eventually.

"Of course not," you say. "It's just Dr. Richter."

"Alright." Luke says, clearly torn between taking your words at face value or cuffing you to take you somewhere for further interrogation--frankly, both options are welcome--and he takes a deep breath to compose himself.

Wordlessly he combs his fingers through your hair, touches your nape, briefly checks the jewelry you are wearing, and essentially pats down your underwear and even your bare skin. He also takes off your stilettos and peers at them closely.

"What are you doing?"

Luke remains silent until he is satisfied with what he sees. "Just a standard check if you're bugged," he says. "It's a bit easier with you since you're wearing next to nothing."

"Okay, since you saw nothing. are you satisfied now?"

Luke shakes his head. "You're not in the clear yet," he says.

"First, do you know what you are doing? Tell me."

"I'm trying to seduce you, Luke."

You can see him gulp nervously, but only for a split second. He quickly regains composure.

"...Fine. Second, why?"

"Because I want to have sex with you?"

Luke groaned. You're almost winning.

"Okay, but why now?"

"Because if you guys weren't able to save me the last time, I'd be dead, and if I am dead I couldn't fulfill my selfish wish of having sex with the handsome, unattached men I work with every goddamn day?"

Luke only stares at you wordlessly, his expression incredulous, his mouth opening then closing as if he couldn't find the words to reply with.

Instead, he just pulls you in and kisses you roughly, his breathing hard and fast as his tongue explores your mouth haphazardly.

You give in to his unrestrained handling, making yourself pliant to his hands roaming the soft skin of your body, the same hands that eventually settle on cupping your ass.

"Is this...is this what you want?" Luke whispered. "You could...you could have told me during one of your visits at my place, you know."

"I actually tried, Luke," you say--which is the truth--"but you are so pure and cute and wholesome whenever I come over I couldn't find a good opportunity to say 'hey, wanna make out' or 'hey, lets have wild sex?'"

"Goddamnit. This is crazy," Luke muttered as he lets go of your ass to grope your breasts. "I swear, Rosa, we really need to talk about this next time."

He dips in to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it as a hand fondles your other, neglected breast. You find yourself squirming a bit; each time Luke flicks his tongue on your nipple you almost feel similar phantom sensations on your sex.

"Let's do a quickie," you say, your words coming out in a moan. You are finally getting impatient--you need him inside you, now, immediately, posthaste.

With nimble fingers you pull down your own panties. It is already apparent how wet and horny you already are, based on how much the crotch of your panties are soaked.

"Fuck. Sure. Fine," Luke says breathlessly as he quickly unbuckles his belt, working on the buttons of his jeans, letting them fall to the ground. He then grabs you by the waist, and sets you up against the rear door of Artem's SUV.

"Ready for it, Rosa?" his words come urgently, his hand hooking one of your thighs around his waist, his other hand rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet mound, and with one hard thrust he rams into you hard--you wanted it quick, you are getting it quick--and he pauses to relish the feel of being fully hilted inside you.

"Damn it," he whispers against your ear. "I came here to fix my bike, not to get fucked. Haha."

"Haha, Luke." you quip drily. "Now move."

"Well," he says as he starts thrusting, holding you firmly by the waist. "Aren't you feeling bossy today, Watson?"

At that point you find that you cannot retort, you are so engrossed with losing yourself to the sensation of getting fucked by your best friend, hiding behind the car of your senior partner's, no less, and the only sounds coming out from you are moans and your fast, shallow breathing.

There is no one else in the automobile bay, nor is anyone expected to drop by, so Luke does not care that his thrusting is hard and fast enough that it makes Artem's SUV rock slightly back and forth.

If Artem finds out--he probably wouldn't, he wouldn't know what signs to look for, anyway--it would have made for a good drinking story.

Marius

Up next is Marius.

Marius, you think, would be easy. He has been all over you every chance he can get, and next to Vyn, who himself is the most shameless of the bunch, Marius is the next flirtiest.

So for Marius, you try putting a bit of a playful twist on things.

You wait until the NXX meeting ends; you tell Marius that you need some help with setting up remote access to NXX files in your personal laptop, complete with security access protocols.

"Huh?" Marius looks at you, perplexed at your suggestion. "Missy, not only is it bad news security-wise, but do you really want to take your NXX work home?"

While you appreciate his thoughtfulness at this particular moment, you are also cursing him inwardly because you do not have a lot of excuses you can use to keep him from leaving the headquarters along with the others.

"I just want to--um. I have this tendency to remember things and if I can't cross-check my ideas with the facts of the case, it'd be a brain itch and I'd lose sleep," you say to him, hoping against hope that he would just take your word for it.

"Ehhh...Missy, I--"

"Just indulge her, will you, Marius?" Vyn cuts in as he passes the both of you on the way to the door. "If nothing else, hash out with her the pros and cons of whatever she wants done. She will not let you go otherwise."

"Fiiiiine."

You give Vyn a glance, and he flashes you a brief, knowing smile before he exits the conference room. Damn. Does he know?

If yes, then...maybe he'd watch the security camera footage later?

The idea gets you wet already.

Thanking Vyn profusely from the bottom of your (degenerate) heart, you quickly check if all is in the clear: Luke has already left, and so has Artem. Vyn just left as well, leaving you and Marius as the only ones in the conference room.

All clear.

"Anyway," you begin. "Yeah. I actually placed my laptop in the server room, could I bother you to get it for me, pretty please?"

"Why is it way back there in the server room?"

"I had to charge it. Sorry!"

"Okay." Marius pushes out his swivel chair from its comfortable position deep under the glass conference table and stands up to pad his way toward the NXX server room, whose entrance is located in the far end of the conference room.

Having bought yourself some time, you quickly shimmy out of your one piece dress, revealing a high cut satin bunny suit, sans ears, which you fish out from your purse.

Having put on your bunny ears you make your way towards the server room yourself, and upon reaching the door you feel immense cold wafting from inside the room--the temperature inside the server room is several degrees lower than the conference room's air conditioning.

The hairs of your bare skin stand on end upon touching the cold air, but nothing too uncomfortable to daunt you from your task.

Inside you find Marius turning over almost everything in sight just to try and find the laptop that you actually left at home.

"Hey, Marius."

He grunts, having bent over to peer at one of the lower pedestal drawers in an attempt to locate your machine. "Missy, I can't--whoa."

For in front of him, blocking his path back to the conference room, stands you in your bunny costume outfit.

"Um. Missy?" Marius von Hagen for once finds himself at a loss for words. "Ah.

"...What game are we playing tonight?"

"Oh, I don't know," you tell him, clearly playing coy. "Maybe a game of you and me staring at each other?"

"Miissssy~" he begins, then immediately drops the act. "Come on, tell me what the hell is going on here," he continues in his normal voice.

So aside from Luke, even Marius is not easily convinced that I just want to fuck them? Damn Rosa, you are such a good girl.

You almost fear how much difficult dealing with Artem would be when it is his turn, but you shelve that thought for now.

"I just want to get in your pants, Marius," you say, "is that so much of a difficult thing to understand?"

"Uh-huh." Marius is clearly unconvinced. He crosses his arms, yet his eyes gobble up your svelte form clad in a bunny suit anyway.

"Okay. Any...ulterior motive I should know about? Anything at all?"

Ah damn. You didn't think about triggering his massive trust issues. You only banked on Marius acting like a fuckboy, so you thought he would think like a fuckboy. Clearly, it is all an act--he has been nothing but prudent and thoughtful ever since you started trying to get into his pants.

"Nothing, Marius," you say. "I just want to fuck you."

Marius runs a hand through his hair, breathing deeply, trying to think on his feet regarding the weird situation you're putting him through. "Missy...um. Look, I know I've been sending you mixed signals but--"

Goddamnit. You cross the server room to close the distance between you and Marius, your heels clacking authoritatively. When you finally reach him, you slam your hands against the server rack behind him, trapping Marius in your arms.

"...What the fuck Missy? Those are server racks behind me!" You can see that Marius is actually sweating bullets from his brow, and the server room is actually very cold.

"I know what they are Marius," you say coolly. "And if you don't give me what I want, I'm going to kick one of them down."

It is at that moment that Marius actually composes himself. "You are actually serious, huh?"

"Whatever makes you think otherwise?"

"Because you're my nice, prim and proper Missy Lawyer?" Marius cocks an eyebrow. "I mean, if you were another girl I'd be down with it, scandal be damned, but if it's you..."

"If it's me...?"

"Well, you certainly deserve better than getting fucked on the floor of this horribly cold server room."

"What if I want to?"

Marius actually looks as if he is giving your question some thought. "Hmm. Well..." he makes a show of scratching his chin.

Finally, he leers at you.

"I want to see you beg for it." He licks his lips. "Come on now, you can do it Missy, can you?"

"Beg?" It is your turn to cock an eyebrow, then reach down to cup his hard on through his pants, your fingers caressing the bulge--you can feel his cock twitching with your touch.

"When you're the one who's clearly turned on?"

==

"Mnhh--hahh...Marius..."

Marius writhes underneath you, lying down on the cold floor of the server room on his back, pawing at your bouncing breasts as you ride his cock.

The costume you have prepared for him does not even get worn for more than fifteen minutes, and those fifteen minutes were spent trying to convince the boy that yes, his Missy Lawyer wants to fuck him.

"Shit...haha, I totally can't--ahh--believe this is happening," Marius says in between gasps of breath. "What the--nngh--hell came over you?"

You do not reply, as you concentrate on moving your hips, letting his hard cock slide in and out of your hungry slit. The sensation is turning you on so much that you feel you could almost come from it alone, but you still find your fingers wandering to your clit to give yourself release.

"Aah. That's it, rub yourself--hahh..." Marius lets out a breathy laugh at the sweet absurdity of his current situation. "Damn. This is so good..."

Eventually your thighs feel too burned for you to move, so you slump over him finally, his length slipping out. "Ugh...Hey Mister I Do Extreme Sports, think you can do the work?"

"Aww, poor baby got too tired," Marius whispers as he moves to sit himself up, taking you along with him. "Fine. I got you babe."

Soon enough he has your back pressed against a bare wall, both your thighs wrapped around his hips, him effortlessly bouncing you on his cock.

You desperately cling to him by his neck, stifling your loud moans against his chest. The utter sensation of getting fucked helplessly while your feet dangle in the air has you whimpering--you're so aroused that you know the moment you reach down your clit you'd just instantly unravel around his shaft.

"Well, Missy?" Marius says, then grunting as he adjusts his arms grabbing your thighs. "Like this? Huh?"

"Ahh--yes--God, please," you plead, your words slowly become incoherent. "Fuck me more--ahn, Marius...!"

"Shit." Your cries are sending him over the edge. "Missy...I'm coming--I'll need to come inside, is that okay?"

"Yes," you breathe, your fingers finally reaching down between your bodies slamming against each other to rub your now sensitive bud. "Can't have you spilling on the equip--ment--ahh!"

A second later you feel bursts of his come spurting deep inside you, with Marius pushing his cock deep inside as much as he can.

"Goddamn, Missy," he pants as he starts to recover from his orgasm. "That was pretty...hot..."

He slumps onto the floor, bringing you down with him.

Both of you are sitting up on the floor and holding onto each other, catching your breaths. As your breathing starts to calm down, Marius touches your chin, guiding your face to look at you in the eye.

"Hey, Missy," he grins. "We haven't kissed yet."

So saying, he captures your lips with his, and both of you spend your heated afterglow cooling in the server room while your tongues acquaint themselves with each other.

Artem

Now, Artem.

Mr. Wing--Artem--is a special case. You absolutely cannot hope to take him in the workplace, or in the NXX Headquarters; you know he'd just clam up and scurry away faster than you can say "I want to fuck you".

So for him, you are willing to make special concessions in order to have him feel comfortable, then escalate things accordingly. Don't worry. You got this.

Good luck.

===

"Thanks for dropping by, Mr. Wing, really appreciate you helping out." You greet your senior partner as he arrives by your doorstep. "I'm really, really sorry for the short notice."

"Not a problem." Artem excuses himself and makes a beeline towards your kitchen. He already visits your place frequently enough that he knows where to put away the groceries; he knows where to find any specific kitchenware, dinnerware, or whateverware that you own.

Artem is intimately familiar with your home. He even knows the passcode of your main door.

All things considered, Artem is almost acting like your boyfriend at this point. He chalks it up to taking care of his junior partner, sure, but he has been hovering around you protectively so much that you'd think he has been actively warding off any overtures made by other men towards you.

Even Dr. Richter cannot get near you or talk with you at length whenever Artem is around.

So, you are left wondering why the two of you haven't fucked yet.

"What's the screenplay about?" Artem asks you as he opens your overhead cupboards to stow away the bag of uncooked rice he brought along. "Do you think it is any good?"

You settle yourself on a stool by the dining table, watching him as he works in your kitchen as if he belongs there. I don't mind being exclusive with him, is your thought as you idly stare at his broad shoulders, but at the moment that the both of you still aren't exclusive, all bets are off for now.

At least, until you manage to cross out the illustrious Dr. Vyn Richter off your list.

"Not really. It's very campy," you answer him. "The script is undoubtedly B-movie camp."

Artem then looks at you over his shoulder questioningly. "Then why do you want to act out the screenplay?"

"Mm. I always thought that there's value in delving into camp from time to time."

"Yes, but..." Artem takes out a ladle from a rack, and pauses thoughtfully. "You want to act out a B-movie script?"

You give Artem the most dazzling smile that you can muster. "Yeah. It's going to be really, really fun."

You lick your lips while he isn't looking.

===

"This is the screenplay that I am talking about, Artem," you flick on your phone's screen to initiate file sharing. "Or at least, the first half of the script."

"Just the first half?" Artem accepts the file, and quickly gives the text a scan.

"Oh, just so we aren't overwhelmed," you tell him. "It's easier to focus on the screenplay bit by bit, I find."

"Mhm," Artem makes a non-committal sound. No doubt he does not need such methods in memorizing scripts, as the man's memory is almost photographic. "We can work with this first then."

The script only has two characters for the entirety of the screenplay: an unnamed Executive and his also unnamed Secretary. The screenplay is set in the Executive's office at night.

The first part of the script is basically the Executive growing increasingly tired after spending several hours on overtime. The clock on the wall indicates that it is already approaching 10 o'clock at night.

The Secretary, faithfully supporting her boss the Executive, has decided to stay despite him giving her permission to leave the office ahead of him. She adamantly refuses as she has seen him work tirelessly day in and day out for the betterment of their company, and she wants to support him as much as she can.

The first part of the script cuts off where the Secretary offers to give the Executive a massage on the shoulders.

"It's fine if we read off our phones, Artem," you say after you have changed into your office clothing.

To fully immerse yourselves in the screenplay, you also had Artem bring along the usual suit that we wears to the office, down to the tie. Artem has already changed, and like always, the sight of him donning his work clothes takes your breath away.

Now that you have him in the privacy of your own home and not in Themis Law, it takes a lot of effort from you not to pounce him or come on to him too strongly like you did Luke and Marius. Everything you have prepared would be for naught if you did.

"The set up is actually just an executive table and an office swivel chair," you tell Artem as he gives the script one final glance before he slips the phone into his pocket.

"We can use the table and my chair here," you point at the desk and chair set against the wall.

"Ready, Artem?"

"Yes. I have the script in my head already," Artem smiles at you. "It's simple enough."

Good.

===

It is already ten at night. Executive glances at his wristwatch, then as if trying to validate if he really did spend so much time in the office, looks at the wall clock as well. Both tell the same time: it is already ten o'clock, and once again he has spent a full day of his life working in the office.

He hates it. He feels underappreciated by everyone despite the hard work and the gains to show for it. Everyone except the Secretary, that is.

He gathers his papers and arranges them in a pile; the sound of which prompts his Secretary to peek into the office.

"Sir," the Secretary calls out by his door. "Are you already done?"

"Not yet," he says, quite irritated. "I'm almost done but I'm still waiting for someone's input to be included in the shareholder report."

"So you've nothing to do while you wait?" asks the Secretary.

"Nothing. And it drives me mad. I want to go home."

"It's not much, but let me give you a rub on your shoulders at least to help you relax," says the Secretary.

"Ah, don't worry your pretty little head about me, dear. You best go home. Everything is over and done with except for that damned report."

"I insist, sir," the Secretary walks over and stands behind the Executive's chair. "I owe you too much to just leave you here."

"If you insist, then. I appreciate it."

"Please take off your jacket then, Sir."

===

You take the suit jacket off Artem's hands and drape it over the sofa. With that taken care of, you turn towards Artem's back again, and whisper directly into his ear "Sit up straight, but lean forward a little so I can give you a massage?"

Artem looks up at you, this is not part of the script. You are adlibbing at this point, and you carefully place your hands on his shoulders.

You pretend not to notice his initial confusion, and begin by pressing both of your thumbs by each shoulder, and slowly, with considerable pressure you move your thumbs toward Artem's spine.

You hear him groan softly in relief, before he catches himself and clears his throat.

This cute reaction from him makes you smile a little.

You repeat the motions, loosening the knots on his shoulders through the fabric of his shirt.

Then, your hands wander down ever so slowly to his chest, you bending over closer to him from behind, so close so he can smell your perfume...

You hear his breathing hitch. You see his ears burning red. Even his skin turns warmer to the touch through the cotton.

Artem is getting flustered.

This is no longer part of the massage of course, but a bit of the sweet poison that you lay out for him so that he slowly sinks into your trap.

Just a little more. Just a little more.

One last push.

"Let me forward you the second half of the script." Your left hand does not leave his chest--you make sure that he is not distracted away by your touch--and so you are left with your free hand to fish out your phone and, with an awkward fumble, transfer the file over to him.

It only takes less than ten seconds to register the gasp coming from Artem's lips as he finally reads the second part of the script.

"Rosa? T-this is..."

"Hm, Artem?" You want the words to come from him.

He gulps. "This is. An erotica."

"Yes it is, Artem," you whisper sweetly to his ear. "I picked it for the both of us to perform."

You see his hands grip the armrests of your chair tightly--he is clearly getting wound up. You need to act now, before he wrests away from your grasp.

With one swift motion you turn the swivel chair so he faces you.

You bend over, bringing your face right next to his. His lips are now millimeters away from your own, and it is taking the strength of your entire being not to capture with your lips those stern, yet soft ribbons that you sometimes catch yourself fantasizing about.

If fear has a scent, you would be saturated with it by now--Sweat is beading across his forehead, and you could even spy his lower lip trembling slightly--and yet his cerulean blues strive to hold your olive gaze in a valiant effort to safeguard his pride.

You place your hands on his knees. "Artem." His name comes sweetly upon your lips.

"Yes," he manages to reply, trying his hardest to keep himself from falling apart in front of you.

Your slender hands slowly glide across the herringbone fabric of his pants, stopping just nearby his crotch.

"I've wanted, wanted you for so long," comes your confession. "Can I..."

"Can I taste you?"

This is now or never, then.

And then you bring your lips to his for a kiss.

When you feel his arms finally pulling you even closer to him, you can only sigh in victory.

Finally.

Eventually he parts his lips, and you close your eyes, softly nibbling on his lower lip with the tiniest of kisses. Then your tongue slips in, and you allow yourself to moan as Artem sucks on it quite needily.

Softly you caress his cheek with the lightest of touches. "Artem, relax," you breathe softly on his lips. "Let's enjoy this."

You carefully straddle his lap so as not to startle him too much; as you do so your skirt hitches up, and your little trick is finally revealed: you are not wearing any underwear.

Impishly you take his hands, and guide them to your bare bottom.

"Rosa...?" Artem's eyes widen slightly, then once again the crimson blush overtakes his face. "W-what are you doing..."

"I did say that I wanted to taste you for so long, Artem." You smile at him; and you slowly undress while still on his lap: you shrug off your blazer, letting it fall off to the floor. Your blouse comes next. And your skirt, you only gather up to your waist.

You are left naked on his lap.

But before Artem could do anything yet you climb down from his lap and kneel in front of him.

"You're too nervous," Your fingers undo his belt buckle and the buttons of his pants. "Let me help you relax..."

When you finally pull on the zipper, Artem's breath stops--until you give a tentative lick on his raging hard on through his underwear.

"Ssh. Just lie back and enjoy, okay?"

"Rosa, I..."

Your fingers slip into the band of his underwear, grabbing the base of his cock and freeing it. "Let go, and enjoy."

Slowly you lower your mouth around his shaft, the tip of your tongue teasing that sweet spot underneath the tip. You start sucking gently, making lewd, wet sounds as you bob your head up and down his cock.

"Damnit. Rosa--" you can feel Artem writhe in his seat. You try humming in the back of your throat, letting the resulting thrum cause tiny vibrations as you massage the shaft inside your mouth with your tongue.

Soon his hands thread fingers through your hair--holding your head in place as he starts thrusting into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat over and over causing tears to run down your cheeks.

"Mmph--" You grasp at the shaft that could not fit into your mouth, helping Artem along in achieving his release.

"Oh god, oh god," Artem moans, teeth gritting. "Rosa, I'm sorry, I--"

Before he could finish what he has to say, his come gushes into your mouth, shooting directly to the back of your throat.

Wanting to make Artem's first blowjob one of the best he's ever had, you eagerly take in as much of his cock as you can, as his shaft spasms inside your mouth.

"Let me clean you up," you murmur as your lips and tongue lightly suck on the stray drops and traces of come.

Artem slumps deeper into your swivel chair, an arm covering his eyes. "Hahh...damn...that felt...good?"

"Doesn't it?" you ask as you once again climb onto his lap. Artem is a bit overwhelmed by the release, however, so you just hold him close, cradling his face next to your breasts. "Do you like it?"

"Mm. Yeah." His lips feel warm on your skin. "I like it."

"Think we can do that in the office?"

"Hell no."

"Aw."

"...but...maybe...I don't know. We'll see."

Vyn

For Vyn, you slip into his office in the NXX Headquarters wearing nothing but your lacy black lingerie and stilettos.

There's no need to for further preparation when it comes to him--judging by the incessant overtures Vyn always throws your way, you know that he would probably just welcome you to his bed should you explicitly ask him to pretty please fuck you.

When you enter his office Vyn has his back towards you, him staring out through the windows overlooking his garden outside.

Then, noticing your presence, he turns around and gives you a cordial smile, as if he has been waiting for you all these time. "Ah, Rosa, our little hardworking succubus," he says with his gentle voice. "Is it finally my turn now?"

He has been watching my security camera footage. You briefly wonder if he even saved the video files into his phone for...personal use.

"Take a guess?" You return his smile. "Or are you too busy, Dr. Richter?"

Vyn walks over to you, his arms open wide to receive you in a warm hug, like greeting a close friend. "I did tell you, dear Rosa, that you can call on me anytime, and I will come for you."

He then touches you chin, guiding your lips to his in a soft, tender kiss.

"How I have longed for you," he says as he pulls away from the kiss, his gold eyes misty with need.

"Dr. Richter?"

He only smiles at you, wordlessly.

Then he takes off his white laboratory coat, and drapes it over your shoulder.

"I'm not really cold, Dr. Richter," you say. "Why are you covering me up?"

Vyn allows himself a soft laugh. "My dear Rosa, I am not covering you up," he says as he takes you by the hand towards his executive chair; as he sits down he invites you plant yourself onto his lap. "Sit here on me?"

Settling down on Vyn's lap like a good little succubus that you are, you ask, "what do you mean, your coat is not for covering me up?"

Vyn then idly lets his index finger toy with the edges of your bra, running the fingertip underneath the garter and the lacy edging. "It is not to cover you up, yes," he repeats himself.

When you look into his eyes what stares back at you is no longer the the genial smile that he is well known for, but rather the wolfish gaze that threatens to eat you whole.

"It is to mark you mine."

Then the sparkle once again returns to his eyes, Vyn's lips curling in that usual poker smile of his.

Despite yourself you find yourself blushing, and a bit nervous--you have willingly perched yourself in Vyn's lap, his arms now around your waist, and there is nowhere left to go. Like a snake coiled around his prey.

"Well, Rosa," Vyn now undoes his wine red necktie, slipping it off his collar and gathering the silk strip in his hands. "You will find me quite easy. Or," he tips his head to one side, as if to inquire, "Do you want me to pose a bit of challenge too, like Luke and Marius did?"

You shake your head. "No, thank you, Dr. Richter," you stretch out your arms, wrapping them around his neck. "No. I'm actually glad you're letting me relax this time around." Your lips meet with his, your tongues entwining with each other languorously.

"Artem required a bit of work, most especially," You say as you resurface from the lazy kiss. "Took a lot of preparation."

"Oh? And here I thought I am not the last one in your list." Vyn's thumbs hitch up you bra to finally free your breasts. "Where did you fuck your senior partner?"

You proceed to tell him the basic details of your conquest on Artem.

"That is most impressive," Vyn murmurs before he dips down to let his tongue traces the edge of your areola. "He is very lucky to have a good first sexual experience." His lips then gently bite on your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you.

"He should be so lucky to have you."

You feel Vyn's mood going a bit too somber, so you say "Well, I did save the best for last."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, my pet," but despite his words Vyn smiles a little. "So, before we formally start...do you have any unresolved issues that you may want to discuss with me first?"

"You," your reply comes quickly. "You are my unresolved issue, Dr. Vyn Richter."

(Then it hits you, the reason why you always thought there's something different about Vyn Richter that you couldn't quite pin down. The most plausible explanation that you can come up with is that Vyn is like one of those magic pictures you had as a child--lenticular images--where one image when looked at from a different angle becomes a different image. This realization unnerves you a little.)

"Really now," Vyn smiles rather greedily this time. "Let us play, then."

===

"Vyn! Aah, please...!"

Both of you are still in Vyn's executive chair, you bouncing on Vyn's cock while blindfolded with his necktie and hands bound to your back by his handkerchief.

You are still wearing his lab coat--he has been adamant in having you wear it during your entire play.

Vyn grunts quietly as he thrusts underneath you, his cock meeting your hard descent with his own rough thrusts. His hands do not touch you--he makes it a point to have his cock and thighs your only point of contact.

His hands will only reach out to catch you if if you go too far off the edge towards his knees, in danger of falling off your lap.

"Please, Vyn, let me touch myself, I want to come!"

"Hahh--no, not yet," Vyn says in between thrusts. "Not yet."

You can only whimper in reply.

Your head feels a little lightheaded, and your repeated up, down movement jostling your head and insides are threatening to drive you utterly mad. If you could bend just a bit, if you could make Vyn's cock hit you at a certain angle, maybe it could rub against--

"Ah...!" You feel yourself tilting far too forward, but before you fall off Vyn catches you with his strong arms, pulling you back towards him without missing the rhythm of his thrusts.

"You should be more--ahn--careful--" Vyn hisses as he corrects your position. "You could hurt yourself."

"I want to come, please, Vyn." This is the first time that you feel like you are on the verge of vaginal orgasm, however you cannot quite reach it yet--a maddening sexual version of the sneeze that never comes out--and you want something, anything to rub at your clit to grant your release.

The blindfold is also making things worse--your sense of touch is amped up to such a degree that the simple touch of Vyn's fingertips on your skin is guaranteed to cause goosebumps.

"Please, I'll do anything, anything....Just let me come!"

This catches his attention. "Anything?"

"Yes!" you hiss, no longer caring that your words will have consequences, and that you are around the worst person when it comes to letting their words hold power over you. "Anything...!"

"Then tell me--hahh--that you're only mine." Vyn's thrusts become even more forceful, and at a faster cadence. "Mine!"

"Yours, I'm yours Vyn, no one else's!" you cry out loud. "Please--"

"Say it again."

"Yours, yours, Vyn Richter!"

And then you feel Vyn's fingers reach over to brush at your now begging nub, coaxing it into a explosion of utter pleasure further amplified by your lack of sight, making you cry out a high-pitched moan that you are sure would be heard outside Vyn's office.

"You are--mine, ah--!" Vyn cries out as his seed spills inside you.

===

Vyn watches you take a nap in his embrace, your face nestled in the crook of his neck.

Fingertips brush away stray strands of hair from your forehead.

You told him you are his, but he knows--as most do as part of common knowledge--that words said in the throes of sexual climax do not count for anything.

It was nice to hear at least.

Vyn plants a kiss on your forehead as you slumber. As long as he can touch you, he should be content.

Bonus: Rosa gets totally serviced

Unbeknownst to Rosa, NXX-OS has a folder hidden by an additional layer of encryption. Vyn had this prepared as part of a contingency measure for when shit has properly hit the fan, so to speak, like in situations where nobody knows who is betraying NXX, etc. Access to this folder is currently limited to him and those he invites on a per case basis.

He does not expect that the first entry in this hidden folder will be the following:

Surprise Birthday Party for Rosa

Involved Parties: Adjudicator, King, Libra, Raven, Rosa

Handled by: Adjudicator

Case Details

We need not elaborate too much on the service that the male members of NXX have recently received from our dear muse. Given that we were immensely satisfied by whatever we have received, we should return the favor in kind for her upcoming birthday on dd/mm/yy

Some degree of planning is required to achieve the perfect return gift for our beloved muse. May I ask that each of us give a brief description of what he received from Rosa, so we can incorporate it into our plans. Of course, you may feel free to add your suggestions.

PS - None of your shitposts, King

Adjudicator: I shall start the thread. She indulged my predilection for uniforms. I am suggesting we incorporate an article of costume on our person while we service her.

King: What do you mean shitposting? I own the infra this entire thing is sitting on. Anyway she wore a little costume for me too. It's not just you Judge lol

Adjudicator: I meant my uniform. This is also what I meant by shitposting, King.

King: Your uniform? Man you are such an utter narcissist

Libra: Cut it out. We need to decide immediately, her birthday is coming up in two weeks.

Libra: She did not wear costume of any kind for me. I only received some...service.

King: You don't have to be shy about it.

Libra: I reserve my right to keep the details to myself.

Adjudicator: That precisely defeats the point of this secret chat, Libra.

Libra: Fine. She put on a little roleplay for me. It was based on a screenplay she chose.

King: And?

Libra: She gave me a massage to ease tension on my muscles.

King: "massage"

King: Anyway yeah for me I got her in a cute costume and we did it in the server room. Pretty hot.

Adjudicator: That certainly explains why we had an alignment problem with one of the server racks and damage to a blade server.

Adjudicator: We kept to ourselves in the comfort of my office. She was utterly delicious on my lap.

Raven: Don't turn this into a goddamn pissing contest

Raven: As for me, she surprised me in the automobile bay as I was doing maintenance on my bike. We did it there.

King: ...Wow. In whose car?

Raven: No one's.

King: Lol ok. Wish you guys victimized someone's car at least.

Adjudicator: We finally identify the main elements that we need to incorporate in our birthday surprise for Rosa: costume, roleplay, massage/stress relief, service.

Adjudicator: Basic but important nonetheless. King, do you have any ideas for a location?

King: One step ahead of you. I had a feeling this'll need a really private setting. So I just finalized arrangements to reserve an entire island off Nosta coast

Libra: Sounds about perfect.

Your head is throbbing slightly when you come to.

The sun feels too bright, even with your eyelids closed. Strangely enough...you are smelling the sea breeze, and the sounds you hear are the crashing of the waves and the occasional crying of seagulls.

You have not opened your eyes yet, but you already know you are somewhere not in familiar territory.

I must still be dreaming...

Then you open your eyes, fully expecting to see the familiar sight of your room's interior. But what you actually see--

When you look around, all you see is sand, and the endless blue sea right in front of you. This is when you notice that you are lying on a recliner underneath the comfortable shade coming from a sizable rainbow-colored beach umbrella staked into the sand beside you.

You move a little, and it is when you realize that you are no longer wearing the sundress you slipped into early this morning, but instead donning a cute little number in pink with white ruffled trimming; a beach dress.

What the hell is going on?

The last thing that you remember was meeting Dr. Richter for morning tea. You also remember finding it strange, that the psychiatrist infamous for sleeping in is inviting you to tea at exactly seven in the morning, but you had pegged it as part of something he prepared for your birthday--which is today--and happily obliged anyway.

Your memory cuts off when you took a sip of the tea he offered you--

"Are you comfortable, madam?" comes a very familiar voice behind you, interrupting your thoughts.

You turn, about to call his name, but what you see has your mouth agape leaving you quite speechless.

Dr. Richter approaches you, in a black button down shirt and casual slacks--nothing out of the ordinary--however, around his waist is a pure white frilly apron reminiscent of what French maids wear, with a matching lacy headband adorning his silver hair.

A silver tray bearing what looks to be a multilayered parfait is expertly balanced on his left hand.

"Um. Ah." Your mouth finally remembers how to make sounds, but your brain doesn't quite catch up to form words.

Dr. Richter, in a white frilly apron, and a lacy headpiece with black ribbons is something your brain wouldn't be able to come up with on its own, not even for a fever dream.

He sets the tray on a nearby folding table and unfolds a stool to sit beside you. "You must be getting thirsty on this hot day."

It is rather hot, but the sea breeze is refreshing enough to dispel the heat under the shade of the umbrella.

You look at Dr. Richter in his makeshift maid/butler outfit as he reached for a what looks to be a glass filled with parfait, and a silver spoon.

"Um. Dr. Richter, what...where are we?" You finally regain your ability to speak.

He only gently smiles at you. "Today, I am not Dr. Richter," he says in his gentle voice laced with an unmistakable seductive undertone. "Just call me Vyn, madam."

"Um. Sure." You totally don't know what to say to that. "Vyn."

He does not answer your question, but you are too flustered to insist. Dr. Richter in an apron, sure, but the headband?

"Let me treat you. I am sure you are...thirsty."

You gulped. Having just woken up, your throat does feel dry...and the multicolored layered parfait in Vyn's hands does look refreshing...

You lick your lips.

Vyn then spoons a bit of the parfait, including the cherry topping, but instead of lifting the spoon laden with delectable ice to your lips he puts it into his mouth instead.

Oh shit.

You know where this is going, and your heart races.

He coaxes you to lie back down, with one of his hands supporting the back of your head, holding your face to his.

His other hand wanders to your thigh, caressing your skin as he obviously indulges in you. His touch is electric--his cool fingertips makes the tiny hairs of your thigh stand on end, and wetness to slowly gather in your inner folds.

With a gentle touch of his fingertips he guides your lips to his. This time, you know what he is about to do, and you make sure your lips perfectly lock with his as his tongue pushes the refreshingly cold, sweet treat into your mouth.

A layer of orange sorbet, and cherry. The tart and sweet flavors melt perfectly on your taste buds bringing with it sweet, cool relief from the parched dryness of your mouth and throat. It would be so wholesome, if it weren't for the fact that a man is kissing you at the same time you enjoy the exquisitely flavored ice melting in your mouth.

Vyn still lingers in your mouth even after the successful delivery of the icy refreshment, and you eventually gulp down the treat even with his tongue entwining with yours--making you dribble a bit of molten sorbet down the corner of your lips.

It turns you on so much that you cannot help but moan as you return his cold, icy kiss.

He however resurfaces from the embrace, and flashes you that goddamn mysterious, Vyn-like smile that just sends your nethers gushing to critical levels. "We still have to finish your parfait, madam" he gently reminds you. "Or do you want additional...service instead?"

"S-service...?"

Vyn bites his lower lip seductively and gives you that small, mischievous wink. "Service," is all he says.

He is about to dip his mouth to your neck, when--

"Ehh, Vyn, are you starting already?" comes another voice from behind you. "You said you were just going to check on her!"

You spy a flash of annoyance on Vyn's gold eyes before you turn around to see Marius--in tight swimming trunks that show off his athletic physique. Including his abs.

And, on his head is a pair of dark purple-black cat ears.

Oh god. Too cute. You can't help but bring a hand to your face.

Marius is carrying a cooler, and when he turns to set the cooler chest beside your recliner you see that there is a cat tail attached to his trunks. You also notice that the Z pendant he almost always wears on his person is replaced with a tiny bell.

Too fucking cute!

"Um you two...what...what is going on?" you ask, this time demanding an answer from both tutor and student. "I'm really sorry and I really don't want to break the mood but--but--"

Words fail you yet again, because you can't even decide where to start questioning: the location, the costumes, and how they are acting, among other things.

"Relaaaax Missy," Marius purrs. "Today is your day, so just stretch out, chill, and let us..." he licks his lips languorously, "service you."'

You then turn to Vyn who says nothing, instead devouring you with lustful grin.

"Heehee. Missy, what do you think so far?" Marius grins as he kneels beside you and places his head on your lap. "Oh right," he says, as if he just remembered something.

"Nya~" Marius purrs, raising a hand with curled fingers in an imitation of a cat paw. "This sight is only for you Missy Lawyer, so you better enjoy it!" And he quickly appends, "Nya~"

Holy shit.

(At the back of your head you mentally jot down notes to remind yourself later on to come up with more swear words to shout inwardly. You are running out of them the more you spend time in NXX.)

You can feel so much heat flowing to your face that you start fanning yourself with your hands.

"Eheheh, you like me, don't you? Missy~" Marius gently bunts the top of his head to your cheek, exactly like how affectionate cats do. "Come on. Come on, give me a kiss, nya~"

"You are making madam flustered, Marius," Vyn chides him. "She is already overheated as she is."

"As if you weren't totally going all the way before I came here," Marius retorted, his arms now wrapped around your shoulders possessively.

"I was cooling her down with my parfait."

Marius makes a show of squinting at Vyn. "Riiiiight."

"Um. Ah...Marius? Vyn?" You say, but realize you do not have a reasonable way to put something like could you please be nice and share? without making you sound as if you are a toy being fought over.

"Very well then, I suppose I did have my moment already," Vyn concedes.

"Yay." Marius then proceeds to gather your face gently in his hands. "Hey," he purrs. "I know I'm not supposed to be a puppy, but can you tell me if I've been a good boy?" His purple eyes stare at you, quite needful. "I am, yeah?"

His lips briefly brush your ear. "Nya~" he whispers directly into your ear in a low voice, almost baritone.

"Hah--Marius, yes," Your hands shakily ruffle his dark hair, careful not to accidentally knock off his cat ear headband. "Yes. A really, really good boy." Oh my god. This is just too much.

"Hooray." Marius then gives you a childish grin, then in a split second the grin is replaced with a more primal, lustful expression. "Shit. I'm too turned on, sorry Vyn," he whispers urgently as his hands knead your breasts through the thin fabric of your beach dress--this is when you realize whoever changed your outfit did not replace your underwear--and your nipples turn to hard sensitive peaks against his palms.

"Hahh--Mariu--mmph!" Whatever you want to say can only wait, as Marius has started aggressively sucking on your tongue.

Not to be left out, Vyn takes one of your hands and slowly sucks each of your fingers slowly, putting them one by one into his mouth starting with your pinky. His free hand wanders to your naked mound, teasing your clit as he enjoys the show of Marius heavily making out with you.

Someone coughs from a few paces away.

"Vyn, Marius," comes a stern voice.

"Vyn, of all people I did not expect you to deviate from the program that we have planned," says another, one that you have known for most of your life.

Vyn takes out your ring finger from his mouth and just looks at Artem and Luke over his shoulder. "It is but a guideline, not a procedure," his words come out in an almost drawl.

Luke sighs, putting down the large box of various supplies that he had been carrying. "Oh well. Not like we can't still do it." He then cracks his knuckles. "I'm all good."

"Er...maybe we need to let Marius and Vyn...finish whatever they are doing, first?" Artem mutters in a low voice, obviously blushing. He then pretends to be busy putting away the things he carried to the site: chiller bags, most probably food ingredients for him to prepare and cook.

When Marius finally lets go of you you clearly see what the other two are wearing: Luke has board shorts on--with chocolate brown puppy dog ears on his head.

You fight the urge to extricate yourself from Marius and Vyn to throw your arms around Luke and smother him in kisses.

Artem is slightly different. He is wearing the same kind of swim trunks that Marius has on him, only in a different color--dark red--but he has no headpiece on, animal ear nor lace ruffles.

Instead, what he has on is his necktie around his bare neck, the strip of silk hanging across his bare, sculpted chest.

Shit. This is one of those things that I only get to enjoy only once in my lifetime, huh.

"Guys," The word comes out strained, with you overcome with emotion that you could not comprehend. "I'm not sure how I deserve this but...but...haha..."

You smile, the brightest smile you can muster, complete with the ear to ear grin. "Thank you!"

Somehow the lusty mood lightens up a bit with your words and, all four of them smile back at you gently.

"Happy birthday, dear Rosa," Vyn says, planting a peck on your cheek. Soon after the other three follows with their own well-wishes, last of which is Artem, who is holding a folded piece of paper for you to read out.

"Happy birthday, Rosa," Artem says, handing to you the slip of paper. It is folded, but you can make out that it is of legal size.

"That's my birthday gift to you. I hope...you like it."

You unfold the paper and give its contents a read.

The farther you go into the text the wider your mouth opens.

"Artem," you gasp, "I--I can't make you do this! You can't possibly shave my workload this much for a year!"

"Ah. I have gone over the details with Celestine for some time. It is all planned out." Artem grasps your hand, shyly planting a kiss on your knuckle. "Don't worry about it. The newer hires need the training."

You somehow blush at the gesture--it is the most chaste that you have received so far, and so cute.

"So, our little hard working succubus," Vyn says as he stands up from his stool, "Please enjoy your day today--I believe these two," he motions to Luke and Artem, "Have prepared themselves to give you a well overdue massage."

"Oh? How n--wah?" You are about to comment on how delighted you are at the idea of getting a massage, only to be interrupted by Luke and Artem taking off your dress, slipping it off your shoulders in a mere millisecond.

You do not have any underwear on, so you are now literally in your birthday suit.

Artem shakes a bottle of body oil in his hand as he takes over the stool that Vyn recently vacated. "Lie on your stomach, Rosa," he says, voice gentle. "I'm not really an expert on this but--" he clears his throat. "I know I'm mostly the cause of your back aches with all the overtime you have spent no thanks to the work that I assigned you.

"If it's alright, let me help ease your discomfort."

Luke, for his part, takes his spot by the other end of your recliner, getting ready to give your perpetually-tired feet a rubdown they finally deserve.

He stretches his fingers and checks if there are any knuckles left uncracked. "Lemme know if it hurts, I'll adjust, okay?"

===

Vyn and Marius settle themselves by the breakwater, Rosa's spot with Artem and Luke in full view, from a distance.

Vyn, still wearing his lace headband and apron, is drinking red wine off a paper cup, deep in thought.

Marius, fiddling his cat ear headband with his right hand, is sipping on a can of beer that is slowly growing lukewarm.

Despite the distance they could hear Rosa's loud moaning. Either Artem and Luke are doing too much of a good job with the massage, or they have now moved on to doing something else--it is hard to make out as the beach umbrella obscured part of the view.

"Wow, look at them go," murmured Marius as he takes a swig of his beer.

"Heh. Jealous?" Vyn coolly looks at Marius as he sips on his cup.

"You're one to talk." Marius throws the now empty beer can into the air and tries to catch it in a turning kick. He misses spectacularly. "You haven't been saying anything ever since we left our spot."

"I am just working out the...schematics of our relationships in my head, nothing more." Vyn turns to reach for the bottle of red wine and refilled his cup. "Have you figured out how her parents may possibly be related to the NXX case?"

"I only have fuzzy facts at best," Marius shrugged. "Hell, even Luke's parents had their data scrubbed off and the NSB can't do anything to trace whatever it is they were really working on."

"We may need to keep an eye out." Vyn says as he takes another sip. He does not elaborate.

"Mhm." Marius then faces his tutor. "Still, you are jealous, aren't you?" He grins, looking down at Vyn's face--he easily towers over him in height.

Vyn only gives him a side-eye in response.

Rosa's moans have now turned into almost sobs, and if they strain their hearing hard enough they may hear both Luke's and Artem's ragged sounds.

"Ehehe." Marius smirks at Vyn, slightly bending over to look at him squarely in the eye. "I'm here, you know."

"What are you insinuating, Marius."

"You know what I mean."

"Heh. So we are going to play this game?" Vyn then faces Marius and, for good measure moves even closer to the other man, so close that he could smell the alcohol in his breath. "Again?"

"I think not, student" Vyn murmurs quite menacingly, a cold glint in his eyes. "Know your place."

Vyn then lets out a laugh and pulls away, making his way back to Rosa and the others. "I am going back there to reclaim my place as Rosa's diligent whipping-boy."

Marius kicks the sand, clearly frustrated.

"Tch."

#tears of themis #vyn richter #mo yi #artem wing #tot vyn #tears of themis fanfic #luke pearce #marius von hagen #vyn richter x reader #tears of themis vyn #tot marius #tot luke #tot artem #zuo ran #lu jinghe #xia yan #tot smut #tears of themis smut

[littlestarofthewest]

Forever ago request that I started long ago and finally finished. Hope you'll see this, anon.

Title: Saved by the Bell | Words: 2,611 | Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Arthur x female reader

You can't exactly tell when it started; you just know it's getting worse. For a few weeks now, you and Arthur have been dancing around each other, making jokes and comments that aren't solely friendly. You also don't remember who started it, but now that you're both in it, neither of you wants to give in and stop. 

Somehow, Arthur always manages to do his work right in front of you, often needlessly shirtless, giving you a good look at his muscular body. In turn, you bend over way more than necessary, not caring if your clothes stay in place, exposing your cleavage or legs up to your thighs. 

Today, it's one of those days again. Arthur is chopping wood, always in your frame of vision, once again refusing to wear a shirt. He only stops when you use helping Pearson as an excuse to lick your fingers clean at every chance you get. 

Arthur disappears after that. You see him again when you're down by the river to clean some clothes. He washes barely a few steps away from you. Unlucky for him, you're not the most squeamish when it comes to cold water. Only dressed in your chemise, you don't care how the stream soaks the fabric, making it cling to your thighs. 

By the time Arthur walks over to you, you managed to get a few splashes of water on your chest as well, letting your breasts shine through like a beacon in the night. Arthur's eyes clearly rest there for a moment before he looks at your face.

"Charles said you wanted to come on our next hunting trip. That true?" he asks.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?"

"Lots of wild animals out there. It's pretty dangerous."

You know he doesn't mean that. After all, you've been out with them before. The whole conversation is just another way of teasing you. Arthur is standing way closer than he has to or does with the other girls. Droplets of water are still searching their way through the hair on his chest to run down over his stomach before they find their end at the hem of his jeans, not allowed to venture any deeper. Just like your gaze.

After weeks and weeks of this, it begins to annoy you. "You know, the chance of being ravished by some wild beast out there doesn't scare me at all. In fact, it would be a nice change of pace."

Arthur needs a moment to process your answer, and something in his face and posture shifts. "Are you sure? You could get hurt."

He sounds way too serious, and maybe you should get to the bottom of it, but you're out of patience. You get up and pick up the basket with the clothes before leaning over to Arthur. "I'm tired of the chase, Arthur. If you want your prey, you shoot it, or you don't. You don't make it run until it wants to throw itself off a cliff just to put an end to it."

Arthur opens his mouth but doesn't say anything. At that moment, you decide that you don't want a man who can't be honest about what he wants. You gave Arthur enough hints, making clear that you wouldn't be opposed to taking it a step further with him. If he can't act on that, then you'll call it quits. 

"Maybe I'll find someone else to hunt with," you say, walking away. For a brief moment, you have a flicker of hope that Arthur might hold you back, but the silence behind you is absolut. It's over.

[Line Break]

A week later, Arthur and Micah bring in a big score. They're the most unlikely pair out there, but Arthur is also the only one who can keep Micah in check aside from Dutch. Arthur chooses to work with him, so nobody else has to.

It's barely past noon, but a little celebration is born. People are singing and drinking, and while you're usually not much into booze, you make an exception this time. Micah, on the other hand, gets drunk faster than anybody else. That's probably why he tries to talk to you at all. You could never stand him and made that so clear that even a thickhead like Micah accepted that he should avoid you. Today, he seems to have forgotten all about that.

"Come on, doll. We've just gotten off to a bad start. I'm sure we can become friends."

The way he lets his eyes roam over your body makes it pretty clear that being friends is the last thing on his mind. Usually, you would have told him to get lost, but Arthur is walking over to get another beer, and an evil voice inside you tells you to get even. 

"Friends, huh?" you say, reaching for the collar of Micah's shirt. You straighten it before running your fingers over his skin, playing with the little hairs on Micah's chest. "That all?"

Micah grins, trying to puff himself up. Instead, he sways dangerously, barely able to stand upright. "Oh, I can be more than that. Say the word, and I'll show you a good time."

It's not lost on you that Arthur hasn't moved from his spot. He's just standing there, listening in on your conversation. "Tell you what," you say, leaning over to Micah and dropping your voice, "I'll think about it, but you have to do a lot better than this."

Arthur drops the bottle he's holding, but Micah pays him no mind, too occupied with you. "Let's go right now."

"Get sober first," you say and push Micah, making him fall flat on his ass. You walk away, hearing Micah laugh behind you.

You hope that he's forgotten all about this when he wakes up. You don't have the nerve to keep him off your back again, but Arthur's reaction was worth it. 

Not in the mood to participate in the festivities, you grab a basket from Pearson's wagon before venturing into the woods to find berries or mushrooms. The sun drops down through the trees, basking even the darkest places in a warm light. The bushes hang ripe with berries and picking a few, you wish everything was that easy.

You're about to move on when you hear something behind you. Pulling your knife out, you whisk around, the basket dropping to the floor. Arthur is coming out from behind a few trees, lifting up his hands as he sees you. "Just me."

"Why are you following me?"

"I was just heading into the woods," Arthur grunts. "Is that a crime now?"

You put away your knife and drop to your knees to collect the scattered berries. Arthur moves over to help you, annoying you even more. You can't be angry at him for being nice.

"Cowardice should be a crime," you murmur under your breath. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see how Arthur clenches his jaw, fighting not to give you an answer. Two berries later, he loses the battle. "I'm not a coward."

"If you say so."

"I'm not afraid," Arthur huffs, "just because I'm not an asshole like Micah."

You grab one of the berries so hard that it crushes in your hand. "At least he wants me and acted on it."

"Who says I don't want you?" Arthur hisses.

Your faces are only inches apart now, and you stay there to hold your ground. "If you want me, Arthur, you have to take me. You can't-"

You don't get a chance to finish the sentence. Arthur closes the gap between you and presses a hard kiss on your lips. At first, you're too stunned to react, but then you throw your arms around Arthur's neck, eager for more.

Spurred on by your reaction, Arthur moves closer, and you topple over into the grass, Arthur on top of you. He kisses you open-mouthed and sloppy, his hands digging into your sides. It's almost painful, but you can't hold back either, running your hands over his chest.

While opening his shirt, you rip off a button, and it flies away into the bushes, never to be seen again. Arthur kisses along your neck while his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts. You arch your back, pressing up against him, and Arthur opens your dress. With quick fingers, he manages to work it down enough to expose you and leans in to kiss every inch he can reach. You thread your fingers into Arthur's hair and can't help that you pull on it when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. 

"Finally," you gasp, and Arthur reaches down to pull up your dress.

His hand immediately goes to your center, his hand sneaking into your underwear to tease your pussy. With how long you've been waiting for this and the rough treatment of Arthur now, it's no surprise that you're soaking wet for him, and Arthur moans against your skin at the touch.

"You really want to get ravished, huh?" he murmurs, and this time you pull his hair on purpose. 

"You really should listen better."

"Fine," Arthur grunts, something in his voice that makes your skin tingle in anticipation. "Turn around."

He gives you free and helps you along, rolling you onto your stomach. "Arthur, what-?"

You can't finish the question and let out a surprised squeal when Arthur grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, forcing you to go on all fours. He pushes your skirt up with the same enthusiasm as before and pulls down your underwear, just enough to have access. 

For a moment, you can't feel Arthur but hear him rummaging around with his own clothes. Then, a warm hand finds your thigh, the touch setting butterflies free in your stomach. Arthur might talk about ravishing you, but doesn't have it in him to hurt you, still way more careful than you're used to.

He moves closer, making you feel his heat as he brushes his cock along your wet folds before pushing in. You claw your fingers into the ground under you as Arthur stretches you open, pushing in deep until he draws a soft cry from your lips. He stills then, hesitating once more.

"Arthur, please," you say, pushing back against him, "more."

Finally, Arthur moves with more confidence. He thrusts into you while his fingers dig into your hips, holding on to you for leverage. Knowing that you're not that far from camp, you try your best to stay quiet, but with the way Arthur treats you now, you can't suppress eager moans.

When you add the occasional "God, yes" and call out Arthur's name, he groans and goes even harder. You dig your hands into the ground and push back against Arthur, your insides on fire. It borders on being painful, but you still can't help begging for more.

Arthur runs his hand over your back and up your neck before he fists his fingers into your hair. The touch alone sends heat waves through your body, and then Arthur pulls. You're forced to lift your head to avoid the pain and hollow your back, lifting your ass even higher in the process.

Using the new angle, Arthur takes you without mercy, holding on to your hair. You're completely under his control, unable to move unless you want it to hurt. Cries of pleasure escape you, and without warning, Arthur pushes you down on the ground.

He only glides out of you to get into a new position, then he forces your legs apart with his own, pushing back into you. You groan when you feel Arthur's weight on you, and he grabs your hair again, making you lift your head. 

"Is that what you wanted, sweetheart?" Arthur asks, something dark in his voice.

Before you can answer, he already thrusts into you, and you remember how you talked about being ravished by a wild beast. It seems Arthur finally takes your words to heart. He barely gives you a second to breathe, holding you in that limbo between pain and pleasure, and your only choice is to take what he gives you.

When Arthur finally lets go of your hair, he puts his hand around your throat, and although there's no pressure on it, the gesture alone has you whimpering. 

"You're mine now," Arthur says, his breath hot against your ear. "No more joking around with Micah, you understand?"

"I was just-"

Arthur only moves his fingers, and you become quiet, barely able to breathe.

"Try that again," Arthur says, and you swallow hard, sure that Arthur can feel it.

"No Micah," you say, and Arthur hums, satisfied.

He picks up the pace, only interrupting the way he ruts into you to pull back and push in deep, making you cry out each time. By now, you're sure that at least one person in camp must have heard you, but Arthur gives you no chance to think about it.

He's everywhere, his voice, his touch, and his cock, filling you up so good that you're trembling with lust. You feel like you can barely take it anymore when Arthur reaches under you, his fingers pressing against your clit. Trapped between his hand and the constant thrusts, you can't hold on any longer.

"Arthur, I-" you manage to say but break off when your orgasm hits your core and rushes in waves through the rest of your body.

Arthur holds still as your muscles tighten around him, letting you set the pace for now. You push back against him, riding the last waves before your body relaxes and Arthur glides out of you.

He carefully turns you around, cupping your face with his hand. "You're alright?"

You lift your head to kiss him, a big smile hopping onto your face. "More than alright."

"Good," Arthur says, kissing you back, and you reach down between the two of you.

"Come here, big boy."

Arthur moans when you grab his cock, and when he tries to protest, you kiss him and hold on to his neck. This time, it's you who doesn't give him a chance to move, your hand sneaking into his hair.

Arthur curses against your lips as you tuck at a few strands and his cock pulses in your hand. He buries his face against your neck, his hips bucking, and finally, everything goes quiet.

You both take slow breaths before Arthur lies down next to you, staring up into the trees. 

"You know, we could have done that months ago," you say, unable to keep the snide out of your voice.

Arthur huffs. It's a single, somewhat defeated sound coming from deep within. "I admit it, I'm an idiot."

You turn to him, running your hand over his chest. "It's my fault, too. I could have been more forward instead of waiting until even Micah made a move."

"I said no Micah," Arthur groans.

"What? If it wasn't for him, you never would have made a move," you tease. "You should thank-"

Arthur moves over so fast that you barely see it before his lips seal yours. 

"I thank Micah in hell," he growls, fury in his eyes. "And I think I said no more Micah talk."

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes, but you can't help the tingling feeling that his voice sends all over your body. "I'll shut up if you make me."

Arthur laughs and leans over you, his lips almost touching yours. He grabs a strand of your hair, letting it run through his fingers. "I think I know just the way to do that."

#arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fanfic #fulfilled requests #my writing #nsft

[fungifaggot]

Please Take Me Home...

A/n: Back again with an annual post wahoo. Anyway, I hope yall are doing okay and staying safe. (Heads up I didn’t edit this well)

!Feel free to send constructive criticism!

Summary: Peter is drunk and alone and he wants to go home. Little did he know, asking you for a ride home would be one of the best decisions he ever made.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, underaged drinking, sad peter, Ion kno.

The music was loud and the air was warm. The house was full of nearly one hundred sweaty bodies colliding into one another, yet somehow Peter managed to still feel alone.

Deep breaths he told himself

Yet with every passing gasp for air the sensation of suffocating only grew stronger. He wanted to get out of there, and he wanted to get out now.

For the past hour he had been on a search for Ned and Mj,  and as much as it pained him to do so, he was coming to terms with the fact that they had left him, and therefore so did his ride. (Not that they'd ever do that, but let's just assume they thought he had already left or something)

Good god did he wish that he had never been talked into coming, and god did he wish that he wasn’t still there.

Yet no matter how hard he wished or how tight he shut his eyes, every time they opened he was still there. Surrounded. Not only by people, but with booze, loud music, and the disgusting warmth that was radiating off the flesh of every sweaty intoxicated teenager.

At that very moment everything was wrong. His head was throbbing, rhythmic pounding clouding any coherent thought he had, and surely the loud bass wasn’t helping

Peter knew that you also had attended the party, but subconsciously he had been trying his best to avoid you in any way possible.

You see, it wasn't because he disliked you or anything. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

You and Peter got along great. The bond between You, Mj, Ned, and Peter was unbreakable and he loved spending time with you, but despite your friendly personality, Peter was appalled at the idea of talking to you. He couldn’t help it. Any time he was around you, he reeked of insecurity. Feeling as though he wasn’t good enough. You weren’t popular per say, but the way you held yourself in such a laid back yet confident manner had somehow managed to leave a great impression with just about everyone. And it was that fact about you that made Peter doubt himself. He’d tell himself that he was much too boring or too ‘lame’ to be around you. And although he knew you’d never think that about him yourself, he’d instantaneously tense up and get painfully awkward the second you walked into the room, and that alone that made him fear your presence.

(It also didn't really help that he had the worst crush on you.. Like seriously the worst. As in staying up till 2:00 am stalking your social media type of bad.)

Despite Peter's dread, he was beginning to realize that he wasn't exactly given a choice. There was no one else in the house even remotely worth talking to except you. And with that in mind Peter began his second search of the night.

It only took him about two solid minutes to give up, in which he resorted to just tapping someone on the shoulder and asking.

“HEY! DO YOU KNOW WHERE (Y/N) IS?” He shouted, unable to hear his own voice over the sound of the blaring music.

“OH YEAH! HE’S UPSTAIRS IN THE ROOM TO THE LEFT...I THINK” Was the slurred response he received.

“OH UHH OKAY. THANK YOU” Peter replied.

“YEAH ANYTIME MAN” he heard behind him as he beelined to the staircase.

Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth he reminded himself as he made his way up the stairs, trying to build up courage with every step he passed.

He took one last deep breath, attempting to calm the violent shaking occurring within his hands. He formed them into a fist and brought one up to the door, sending a knock that would echo throughout the hallway.

“Come in~” he heard from behind the door, giving him permission to enter.

As soon as the door creaked open, he was met face to face with a thick cloud of smoke. He stepped inside, taking in a deep breath, flooding his nose with the stench of marijuana before almost immediately making eye contact with you. 

“Peteyyyy” You sang out, halting the conversation you were previously having

,but before Peter had the chance to respond, his voice hitched in the back of his throat and an overwhelming feeling of warmth tremored throughout his body. He knew something bad was about to happen. He knew he was going to puke...

“Uhhh, s-sorry. Wrong room.” He muttered out, making a 180 degree turn before bolting out the door. His palms began to sweat and his mouth salivated heavily. He tried to breathe and suppress the violent urge to puke, but knew that there was no hope. He ran to the closest bathroom, not bothering to knock as he bursted through the door slamming it shut behind him. He made his way to the (thankfully already open) toilet and emptied out his stomach. He continued to gag, and eventually made himself comfortable on the bathroom floor when he felt he was finished. He flushed the contents down and rested his cheek on the toilet seat only to then perk his head up when he heard a light knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey Petey, you doin’ okay in there?”

“Y-yeah im okay! Just a little...tired that's all!” He rushed out, internally smacking himself in the face. “Just a little tired”? What the fuck Peter.

He heard the door open and rushed into a sitting position, trying to appear as normal.

You sauntered in, closing the toilet lid and taking a seat on it.

“You doin’ okay?” You repeated.

“Yeah, i’m just fine. Y’know.. like I said.” He responded, flashing you a forced smile.

You rolled your eyes at him and gave his hair a gentle pet.

“You sure? You seem... off.” you uttered, handing him a bottle of water.

Peter sighed accepting your offer, moving his eyes down to his feet.

“I just don’t really want to be here right now.” he said before taking a swig.

“Shit...I’m sorry.” you sighed out.

“There anything I could do to help?”

Peter brought his sorrow filled eyes back up to yours,

“I-is there any way you could take me home?”

“Fuck. Baby you know I would if I could, but I’m uh... not exactly sober right now.” You responded, guilt lacing your words, as you began to regret your decisions.

“Baby”. He knew it was a word that you’d throw around to any of your close friends, but he couldn't suppress the warm feeling that burned throughout his body when it rolled off your tongue.

Peter let out a shy chuckle continuing to sip from the bottle and replied

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Looks like neither of us are driving.” You said with a deep chuckle.

“Where’s Ned and Mj? I bet they’d help.” You asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Gone.”

“Oh...” Was all you could find yourself responding with.

You stood up from where you sat, extending your hand out to Peter.

“Lets get outta here. Even if it's just for a bit.” You said with a slanted smile.

You helped him up slowly, placing your free hand on his lower back, directing him towards the door.

Peter waited at the top of the stairs while you notified your friends of your departure.

As soon as you returned you took a hold of his hand and guided him down the stairs and out the door. A small gust of wind met your face as the door shut behind you. The sweat gathered on the back of Peter's neck began to fade and the throbbing in his head lessened. Not completely, but enough for it to be bearable.

“Feels good to be out of there huh?” You said almost as if you had read his mind, compelling him to nod in agreement.

The two of you began to walk in a random direction, hands still together. Peter's mind racing a million miles a minute.

“Where did Ned and Mj go?”

“Is (Y/n) annoyed that he has to spend time with me?”

“Oh god, my hands are sweating aren't they…”

“What... you nervous or somethin?” You giggled, raising your connected hands into the air and squishing  them together to emphasize the fact that they were sticky.

If it weren’t for the fact that it was nearly 1:00 in the morning and there were no cars out, Peter swore he would’ve jumped in front of one without hesitation.

“Oh um, i’m sorry...” He muttered, embarrassment flooding his system, so much to the point it  nearly put the boy in tears.

“Awe, c’mon I'm just kidding around” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Oh ha-haaa” Peter replied sarcastically, sending you a childish pout.

You bumped your hip into his as a friendly gesture, causing him to stumble a bit.

“It’s...cute.”

“Cute.” He muttered, moreso to himself than you.

The two of you continued to walk, not even sure where it was you planned on going. The silence grew thicker with every passing second, but Peter was much too caught up in his own thoughts to even notice. You released his grip, bringing him back to reality, and went to dig around your pocket.

“Aha-” you brought your hand back up, displaying a pair of airpods (or any bluetooth ones idrc)

“You want it?” You asked, wiggling your phone in the air.

“O-oh! Sure!” he said, snatching it and placing it in his ear.

You put on (S/n). (‘Song name’, I humbly recommend ‘One Last Time by Summer Salt’) Peter's nerves settled as the rhythm of the song blared through his ears, drowning out his pesky thoughts.

You grabbed his hand again and started to swing it to the beat. Peter stared at you in awe as you swayed your head from side to side, meandering a bit as you walked. Eventually you swung your arm around Peter's shoulder, forcing him to move with you. If it weren't for the alcohol he probably would have laughed it off and nudged you, but instead he immitated your actions and began to sway overdramatically. That continued until you came to an abrupt stop and pointed. Peter followed you gaze, finding himself staring at a park.

You looked at him for a long second before bolting off towards the park without warning.

“Hey!” Peter yelped out, out eventually following your lead.

You ran and clumsily dove into a swing set, pushing yourself up off the ground, in a ‘superman’ pose before you came back down, dragging your hands and feet through the wood chips. You swung back and forth a few times before Peter came up and pushed your back so you rose up  once again.

“Excuse you!” You laughed out flailing your legs in attempt to get him off of you, before ‘gracefully’ sliding off so that you stumbled for a second before ending up on your ass.

“You look like a dumbass” Peter said with a bright smile, kicking some wood chips at you.

You stood up, brushing your self off while looking him in the eyes

“and you love it” you said with a wink.

“Shut up” He said, lightly shoving your chest and turning away to hide his blush.

After that the two of you messed around, sliding down slides, and fucking around on the monkey bars until you eventually ended up laying down in a grass field looking up at the stars.

The two of you talked about everything. College, work, the party, Peters ‘internship’, everything.

“Why don’t we talk more?” you sighed out as you sat back up.

“I don’t know...” Peter lied, whilst clumsily rolling over to rest his head on your thigh.

“Well. We should.” You stated, moving so that you were looking down into his eyes. You stayed in the position for what felt like forever, enjoying the gentle wind, as you analyzed Peters features. 

You pulled out your phone, breaking the silence after reading the time

2:30 am 

“You wanna head back?” You asked, ruffling Peter's hair.

“Back where exactly?”

“My place?”

“Sure” Peter yawned.

You turned your music back up once you were both standing, hands interlocking once again as you started your adventure for the second time that night.

Once you returned to the house, you saw that the lights were still on and the music was very much still blaring. 

You opened the car door on Peters side before walking around and getting in yourself.

As the two of you got seated Peter handed you your head phone back and let his body relax.

You reached into the back and pulled up a soft blanket, handing it to Peter. 

You turned the radio on, keeping the volume low as you gave yourself some time to completely sober up. You turned to Peter so you could continue the conversation from earlier, only to be met with a sleeping boy.

Drool dribbled from his lips and slight snores emitted from him. His hair was a mess and boy did he not look comfortable, but you thought it was sweet nonetheless.

You pulled your phone out and snapped a picture of him.

You were definitely gonna show him that in the morning

After about another 30 minutes of simply relaxing, you turned the key and drove off.

Peter mumbled in his sleep as you nudged him for what was probably the hundredth time, only waking up when you smacked him in the back of the head. You led him to the apartment door and unlocked it, kicking your shoes off to the side as soon as you entered. 

Once you reached your room, you swung the door open, signaling for him to enter before you.

“Such a gentleman” Peter said in a groggy voice, before making himself comfortable and plopping onto your bed. He nearly fell back asleep until he was abruptly hit by a flock of clothes.

“There ya go- figured you’d want em’ since we're covered in dirt.” You chuckled

“Oh yeah...and this” tossing him a brand new toothbrush.

You tore your shirt off and chucked it into a random corner, grabbing some clean sweatpants as you made your way to the bathroom.

You turned around at the door, noticing that Peter had been staring at you

“I’ll be right back”

After brushing your teeth and changing, you came back out. Peter taking your previous position in the bathroom.

In the meantime you got comfortable, rearranging the pillows so that they were equally distributed.

Peter eventually came back out dressed in your clothes, looking almost as if he were drowning in your hoodie. If you could have snapped a picture right then and there, you would have, but simply seeing him like that was enough for you.

You lifted up the blanket signalling for him to join you, and he did so after turning off all the lights.

You both laid next to each other in the dark for a bit before you heard Peter turn to face you.

You turned your head just so that you could just make out his general figure. Despite it being dark, you could see that Peter was looking up at you with his puppy like eyes.

“Could you uhm... could you maybe hold me?” He stammered out.

You smiled softly, not that he could see it, and wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him into you, and allowing himself to burrow in and get as warm as possible.

“Of course Peter” you whispered into his hair

“Of course...”

___________

Tags:

@marvelgbtposts @eliotsbambimargo @ethanharli @baldsaitama @malereaderinsert @malereader-inserts @myfeetkeepdancing @malereaderimagines @dis-boi-be-a-gay-peter @jerod-writes @katsukispicycaramel @luv-hqs @sinfulcries

(literally let me know asap if my tags are annoying you LMAO)

#male reader #male reader insert #x male reader #seme male reader #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #dom male reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman

[yeongwvnhi]

》일어나《

Supernatural creatures AU

Taglist (send an ask if you want to be added) : @twancingyunhoe @vickylamore @glxwingstar @se0--0ho

Genre: angst!!, fluff, suggestive

Rating: 16+

General Warnings: Supernatural creatures (vampires, werewolves etc), blood, violence, weapons, language, death, poisoning and just dark themes in general.

Chapter Specific Warnings: drinking, poisoning, blood, major character death

Pairing: ONEUS x fem reader 》choose your ending

Synopsis: somehow you came back to life just about a day after dying, scaring the poor guys who work at the mortuary one late night as you flee, not knowing where to go before they found you.

Word count: 2.1k [thanks to @kingleedo for beta-reading <3]

》Next《 》Masterlist《

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The loud music was keeping the whole street awake. Another frat party from your friend group is taking place again. The smell of potions, alcohol and other mixtures hung heavy in the air as you were dancing with your friends. You all had a glass of whatever you drank in your hands and were swinging around to the beat of the Songs that were playing and just enjoying yourselves. 

"Hey Y/N!" your friend calls over the loud music, "Junghwa and his friend keep glancing over here and talking, I saw them mouthing your name a few times!" 

A confused pout forms on your face as you sneak a glance at said guys only for them to quickly avert their eyes. "Thanks for letting me know, Hae-in" You mouth over the booming bass and she smiles back at you, mouthing a 'no problem' right back at you. 

Finishing your potion in a swift sip you shake a little and put your glass down on the kitchen island, feeling the nice buzz keeping you relaxed as your eyes lazily fly over the crowd in the house. This really was one of those parties where half of the campus came. 

At some point Junghwa came over to you and leaned in to talk to you, "You look tired, should I take you home, Noona?" 

With half-lidded eyes you barely register him but nod, not knowing what kind of potion you actually drank - you doubt it was one to give you the buzz you were desiring as you felt anything but energetic - lethargic actually. It felt like it was draining everything out of you from the inside out. 

Junghwa's worried look goes unnoticed by you as you scramble to get your stuff and leave, just waving at your friends across the room before exiting with Junghwa in front of you. 

"You look like you drank some Vampire's booze instead of yours" He comments as he watches you struggling to even step forward without stumbling. 

"I- I think so too" You mumble, body feeling heavy, like something was pulling you down and to the side. 

"Y/N careful-" Junghwa was barely able to finish his sentence before you fell. 

Luckily, he's got quick reflexes so he caught you. "Noona you really don't look good" 

"Take me to my father" You mumble, feeling hot all of a sudden, then shivering like you're in the deepest winter. "I-I think someone put Spirit-Iron in my drink when I was distracted…." After that you were out like a light and Junghwa panicked, so he ran to get you home. 

—

"Mister L/N!" Junghwa yells after entering the huge house, you in his arms, still unconscious. "It's an emergency!" 

Hwanseok was practically flying down the stairs after hearing that and didn't know what to say. "What happened?!' 

Junghwa hands you over to your father and follows him quickly into the house's own infirmary. "She said someone must've put- uh… spirit-iron in her drink" 

He watches all the color draining from your fathers face. "No way" 

"Why..?" 

"Because Y/N could die because of that if we don't get help within the next 24 hours!" Hwanseok almost yells. "Fuck, I hope Seoho is in the city" 

Junghwa recognizes the name and lights up. "I think I've seen him a few hours prior to the party somewhere, sir" 

Hwanseok puts you into the bed and goes down into the kitchen with Junghwa. "We need to find him, he's our only hope since Y/N can't do anything" 

"I know where to find him" Junghwa says and stands up, "I'll go and get him immediately" 

"Thank you, Junghwa" Your father says and gives the man a tight smile, watching him leave. "Haeryeong!" 

—

Junghwa was walking through the rather busy streets of Seoul towards the forest, hands in his pockets and fast paced steps. He didn't exactly know where their house was, but he knew it was deep in the woods. 

"Yah" Someone calls after him from behind. "Where are you heading?" 

Junghwa halts his steps and turns around, eyeing the blonde guy who stood a few feet away from him. "Is that any of your business?" Junghwa gives a snarky reply. 

"I think it is, because you're heading for my home, phantom" 

Junghwa clicks his tongue. "I'm looking for the Necromancer" 

The guy raises a brow and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "What do you want from him?" 

Junghwa groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. "My friend drank a whole glass of spirit-iron and her father said she has less than 24 hours to live" He says, "Is that reason enough?!" 

The blonde guy's eyes widen and he steps forward. "Fuck okay" he hisses, "You wait here, I'm bringing him" 

So he relents, running into the forest and Junghwa waits. 

—

"Mister L/N! I'm back!" Junghwa loudly announces after entering the house with two more people. "I brought… them" 

Hwanseok meets them at the entrance and bows. "Thank you Junghwa" He says and then turns to the other two. "And thank you a lot for coming" 

"Don't worry about it" the one with green hair speaks up, a friendly smile adorning his face. "We're here to help after all" 

"Let me see what I can do" Seoho then says and Hwanseok leads them into the room you're in. 

"Oh god, the smell" the grain haired guy says and scrunched his nose, "it reeks of spirit-iron" 

Your father turns to him. "Junghwa told me how she said she thinks she drank it" 

Seoho steps closer, inspecting you closely. "When did he bring her here?" 

"About 3 hours ago. They were at a party" 

"I see…" The sorcerer nods and puts a gloved hand on your forehead briefly. "Spirit-Iron is illegal, I wonder who got it and how it got into her drink. According to her state, she doesn't have much time, but you knew that already, I presume" 

"Can you.. do anything?" Hwanseok asks with trembling hands. 

Seoho exchanges glances with his companion for a few seconds before he speaks. "You see, Mister L/N, his healing abilities aren't all that strong… he can only try and get the toxin out of her system"

"But I can't guarantee for her to wake up again" Seoho adds, a frown pulling at his lips. "If you want me to, I will try and get it out of her, but like I said, I can't guarantee anything" 

Your father hides his face behind his hands, a shaky exhale escaping him. "Please… please do it" He almost begs, "If you can't save her… at least you tried" 

The two men look at each other again at the state your father is in. "Come on, sir, we'll leave him to do what he can and I'll try and explain everything to you" 

Hwanseok just nods and lets the other guy lead him away, closing the door to the room and hoping that Seoho can help you. 

"Okay Sir, first of all, I'm Leedo and I accompany him almost everywhere he goes so I know what he's doing" Leedo starts explaining, "he's going to use some magic and pull the iron out of her between the cells- I know it sounds disgusting, but it doesn't hurt and is the safest way to get everything out. Then he will try and stabilize her vitals with a few healing spells" 

"How high are the chances that she's going to make it?" Your father asks with glassy eyes and Leedo sighs. 

"You said it's been 3 hours so… about 65 percent, since you acted quickly. I'm sure she will get through, Seoho Hyung knows what he's doing, even if he's not the best healer" 

Hwanseok nods, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, I'm sure he will get her back" 

Leedo pats your father's shoulder and stands up. "This procedure might take a while. How about we ask if the one who brought her here knows something more?" 

"That sounds like a plan. He's probably talking to Yongjun right now" Hwanseok says and stands up, gesturing Leedo to follow him while walking down a hallway. "Yongjun is Y/N's younger brother. I bet he already knows what's going on after my wife freaked out" 

"I'm sorry to hear that, I hope she's alright" 

Your father nods and opens a door, revealing your brother and Junghwa. "Hey, Junghwa, come with us please" 

Said guy wordlessly nods and follows the two men back into the kitchen, all taking a seat. "You're the one who brought her, right?" Leedo asks and he nods. "Alright, Junghwa. I'm Leedo and I want to ask you a few question if that's okay" 

Again, he just nods while Hwanseok silently listens in. "So, Mister L/N told me you brought her here from a party?" Leedo asks, eyes meeting Junghwa. 

"I did" He agrees, "We were at one of our University's frat parties and she was with her friends almost the whole time" 

"Where were you? And did anyone seem suspicious to you?" The green haired man asks, folding his hands in front of him. 

"I was always in her line of sight" He answers and scratches his ear, eyes averting to the left for a split second. "I was talking to a friend myself, so I didn't see much going on where she was standing. I only passed by once to go to the bathroom" 

Leedo nods, making a mental note before continuing. "Does she have enemies?" 

At that question, the male goes quiet for a minute, before finally answering. "I don't think so. I only know how there's one girl in our year who's jealous of her about pretty much everything, but I'm not sure if she was at that party" 

"Okay, thank you, that should suffice for now" Leedo nods and pushes the hair which was falling into his face back with a hand. "I think Seoho Hyung is almost done, I'll go and check on him" 

Hwanseok nods and Leedo leaves to go back into the infirmary room, just at the right moment. "Quick! I need your help!" Seoho frantically exclaims, hands pressing down on your stomach. "I don't know what happened, but while I was extracting the Iron- this huge wound opened!" 

Leedo hurries to his side, taking Seoho's place and pressing down on your wound so the sorcerer could seal your wound. 

"Hyung, something is horribly wrong with the smell of her blood" Leedo comments and meets Seoho's frantic gaze. 

"What do you mean?!" 

"It smells like Vampire-Root" 

"Fuck!" 

—

Hwanseok has sent Junghwa home after Leedo went back upstairs and has calmed his wife down, now sitting in the living room and trying to keep a positive mind by reading through the newspaper. 

It worked until about an hour later both Leedo and Seoho came downstairs, hands bloody and faces fallen. 

"Oh bloody hell what happened!" Your father yells in shock as he almost falls out of his chair and speed-walks towards the two men. 

Seoho's head lowered as he stared at the blood on his and Leedo's hands. 

"There were complications. Not only was your daughter poisoned with Spirit-Iron but also Vampire-Root. There was nothing we could do" Leedo spoke for Seoho. "We're so sorry.." 

Your father broke down on the spot and the two men exchanged sorrowful glances. "S-She was the b-best healer in thi-this land" he sobs, "what an i-irony that she got poisoned" 

"Sir I wish I could do more for you but-" Seoho says, voice catching in his throat, "but i can't bring her back" 

"N-No we wouldn't want you to" your father shakes his head. "I'm still thankful t-that you tried to help" 

"I think we should leave…" Leedo says. "Again, we're so sorry" 

"It's okay… I-I hope you find the door" Hwanseok sobs and the two guys leave right away, shortly before Haeryeong finds her husband.

—

Seoho and Leedo take a secluded path back into the woods, hands still bloody and sorrow in Seoho's eyes, but they couldn't care less. It irked Seoho to no end about the blood on them from someone who never did harm to anyone before, but still got poisoned in such a brutal way. It was more angering for Seoho to know he failed. He's certain he could have saved you, but yet you died under his and Leedo's hands. If only he knew about the Vampire-Root earlier, he could have definitely saved you, but now it's too late and he couldn't bring you back - his conscience would never let him, and neither would his friends. 

#yuki writes #내꺼 하자 #kwritersworldnet #oneus #oneus angt #oneus fluff #tw blood #tw death #tw poison #tw poisoning #yeongwvnhi.txt