#leave the game. he passed away) but god. turns out that even if you accept the cyclical nature of things

[elliespeach]

no chances part four | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"you still wanna ask me those questions?" ´ˎ˗

pairing: ellie williams x afab reader synopsis: you and ellie are on rival volleyball teams and after letting your competitive nature get the better of both of you, tensions are high on and off the court. warnings: 18+ we made it yall it's smut time. mentions of weed, foul language, explicit sexual descriptions, r! receiving fingering/head, thigh riding, scissoring, slight choking kink, fight then fuck kinda deal wordcount: 3.1k author note: hi hi lets pretend that the car ride actually took an hour they do it in minutes but lets just pretend ok? ok. i have been in a slump this week my brain is attacking me so i hope this is well enough for yall i didn't wanna leave u hanging!! i have plans i cannot share w you guys ab this series n i am hype asffff but anyway enjoy

when her car left the parking lot it was silent. the radio played softly but you or ellie didn’t utter a word. suddenly the reality of what she had offered sunk in, you two had an hour drive together. ellie focused on driving while you stared out into the window at the dark road. she had almost kissed you again and for the first time it didn’t raise any alarm bells in your head. everything was calm in those moments inches from her face, as if the world had been swept away from underneath the two of you. hearing the song on the radio dim out, your head turned to face her. ellie’s eyes were fixed on the road, one arm at the top of the wheel with the other resting on the gear knob. she caught you in her peripheral and her head turned slightly. 

“we don’t even know wh–” 

“i think you played–” 

you both spoke over each other, attempting to awkwardly break the silence that had enveloped you. ellie laughed lightly and it was probably the first time you had ever heard her laugh, “you go,” she said, turning the wheel to make a left and you caught a glimpse at her hands, gripped firmly around the wheel and a memory of them doing the same to your hips flashed in your mind before you cleared your throat to rid of it. 

“i was just gonna say we don’t even know who won the game,” you recalled, your hands placing themselves in your lap and pressing your legs together slightly. 

“oh, yeah–” she swiveled her head to catch a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. “my money’s on my team.” she said cockily, again turning the wheel with only one hand. 

“only cause i wasn’t playing, right?” you banter, remembering her somewhat of a confession from your walk. she rolled her eyes but a small smile crept on the sides of her lips as she did. 

“oh my god, that is not what i fuckin’ said,” she laughed again, another quick glance at you, who was smiling proudly earning another eye roll from her. 

“what were you gonna say?” you asked her, peeling off your knee pads from your legs as they started to itch. 

ellie glanced down at your movement, quickly pulling her eyes back up to the road, “oh uhm–” she readjusted her grip on the steering wheel. “just that, your coach was stupid to pull you, you were doing fine.” 

your head snapped towards her, a dramatic shocked expression on your face. “a compliment? how did you not just implode spontaneously?” 

ellie shifted in her seat, bringing her hand that was previously on the gear shift to the bottom of the wheel and leaning on the window with her now free arm. “just say thank you like a normal person?” her tone had a hint of annoyance but the sly smile on her face gave her away, and instead of prying it out of her you just accepted it. 

“thanks–” your eyes darted back out to the road, out of the seclusion that was the community center and into a more urban area with street lamps and business on either side of the road. your eyes caught the highway sign right as you passed it and you sat up, your head turning to see it fade back into darkness as her car kept moving. “that was the highway,” you turned to her, her head snapping back as if to see the sign herself but her eyes returned to the road in front of her within seconds. 

“fuck,” she uttered under her breath. the car started to slow down, taking a quick look around the road. “one sec,” she turned her car to the left, placing it as close to the curb as she could, then shifted the car into reverse. her arm swung around to the back of your headrest and her body moved with it. you couldn’t help but stare as she did, her eyes fixed on the road behind you. because of her positioning, you could see the outline of her muscle filled arm, as if she was flexing them. the movement of her upper body made her shirt ride up in the front, exposing some of her toned stomach and before any thoughts could come to mind you darted your eyes away. 

ellie could feel as you watched and when she turned her head to meet your eyes they were already gone and she swiftly put the car back in drive before pulling away. the radio was the only thing audible in the car as she turned on the highway, picking up speed as she did and her car revved over the radio. you waited until she was comfortably cruising in the fast lane before speaking again, hating the words that came out of your mouth but not being able to do anything to stop yourself, “so can we talk about the big fat elephant that's in the car?” 

ellie sighed while checking her rearview mirror then looking at you briefly, “if you want to,” 

“why wouldn’t i?” 

“i dunno,” she shrugged, keeping her eyes on the highway in front of her. it was quiet again but only for a moment before she continued. “i can’t give you an explanation, if that's what you want.” she almost sounded disappointed in herself. 

“why not?” 

ellie rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath in. “why don’t you give me an explanation?” 

“because you kissed me, you cuddled with me, you almost kissed me again.” you listed off your reasons, using your fingers to count them off and she looked annoyed. 

“i didn’t do it alone–” her tone was harsh, as if the conversation was treading on thin ice. 

“yeah, but you started it.” you returned her attitude, feeling a familiar fight coming on. 

“do you want me to sit here and tell you that i did it for a reason? there was no reason–” ellie used her hand that was resting on the gears to emphasize her words, feeling agitated that you brought this up when the ride was going smoothly. the high was wearing off between the two of you and with it went the calm that had settled too. 

“why are you being so cagey?” your voice raised slightly. ellie switched lanes, seeing the exit she had to take in the distance. 

“why are you asking so many fucking questions?” she returned your raised voice, turning the wheel to take the exit. the ramp was long and curved and she slowed to a stop at the red light at the end of it. taking the time to turn to you, a grimace on her face.

you groaned, crossing your arms and leaning your knees against the car door away from her. “just thought we could have a legit conversation, but that seems out of your capabilities.” 

ellie pressed on the gas when the light turned green, making a turn towards your campus. the drive had felt like the longest and the shortest in your life, and now you kind of wished you took the bus. she remained quiet as you did, noticing your position in her passenger seat. “jesus fuckin’ christ,” she breathed out as the welcome sign to your campus came into view. 

you started again, “i just think its funny becau–” 

the car came to a halt on the deserted road sending you forward and you looked at her in disbelief. she quickly put the car in park and as you looked at her face only illuminated by the orange dashboard in front of her, you couldn’t read her. “what the hell, ellie?” you questioned, looking around and you thought she wanted you to walk the rest of the way. 

her hands came up to your face, redirecting your focus to her. she cupped your cheeks and brought your lips to hers. although the anger for her in you was still firmly in your chest, you didn’t fight her instead leaning further into the kiss. her tongue found yours like it had in the bathroom weeks ago, slipping it’s way over your tongue harshly sending shivers throughout your body. butterflies danced in your stomach as her hand left your face, wandering down your body to explore. 

you wanted to be closer, the middle console blocking any other physical contact you two could share. while still letting her tongue roam your mouth, you moved over the console and placed yourself in her lap. it was uncomfortable, but her hands instantly wrapped around your hips and slid down to grab your ass. you rocked your body against hers, liking the feeling of her underneath you and she squeezed your ass tightly. your lips disconnected from hers and instead found her neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over it. ellie’s breathing was barely recovering and as you kissed her neck, incoherent mumbles and short quick breaths filled your ears. 

her hands that had been running up and down your back found their way in between you two, groping your tits firmly and you hummed against her neck at the feeling. the pressure formed between your legs all the faster as she massaged them, keeping one hand placed on your breast, squeezing as much as she could, she used her other hand and traced it up your chest to your neck, wrapping her fingers lightly around it. this pulled you back from her neck, making eye contact with her green eyes. though the green had vanished, replaced with dilated eyes glossed over with every touch you placed on her. 

she studied your face, her hand still around your neck. her head tilted, taking you all in while you straddled her lap and a sly smile formed on her wet lips, “you still wanna ask me those questions?” her voice raspy, hoarse even and she tightened her grip on your neck ever so slightly. way different than it was before and it took everything in you not to melt in her lap. 

“shut up,” you groaned, bringing your face back down to kiss her again, rolling your body against her. you could feel her smirk against the kiss, retreating her hands back down to your hips to move with them against her. the smirk didn’t diminish and this time it was you who snuck your hand up to her neck, gripping with the same firmness she had, you broke the kiss but hovered over her lips as her eyes opened to meet yours separated by only millimeters, “you are insufferable.” 

a light chuckle came from her, sinking her fingers into your hips, “and yet here you are,” her neck extending to allow your grip to remain. there was a beat of silence, both of your heavy breathing over powering the radio that still played lightly in the background. you let go of her neck, sliding your hand down her torso and feeling her tits through the layers of clothing. she attached her mouth to your neck as you had done, sucking a little too hard and you worried about hickeys but it felt too good in the moment to tell her to stop. but she did and her words bounced off of your now sensitive skin, “do you have a roommate?” 

that’s how you ended up barging into your dorm with her hands all over you, slamming the door shut behind her without ever breaking the kiss. she pushed you against the closest wall, gripping your skin in her hands before trailing kisses down your neck to your stomach, getting on her knees as she slid off your shorts to reveal the very small underwear you had on. she kissed your pussy through your underwear and you had to stop your knees from buckling at the feeling. a wet spot was very obviously noticeable on your panties and it only intensified ellie’s efforts. using her teeth she bit down on the top of your underwear, pulling it down as much as she could before your dripping cunt was in front of her. she used her fingers to move your panties down further, running her hands back up your legs as she looked up at you with lustful eyes. 

she lifted one of your legs, slinging it over her shoulder before plunging her tongue into your folds. you bit down on your lip to keep from moaning and your fingers laced themselves in her auburn hair, her tongue already better than anything you could do to yourself. it traced circles on your clit and as she shoved herself deeper into your pussy, you couldn’t help the moans that slipped out of your mouth. with hearing this, ellie was brought back to the bathroom and her brain went into overdrive. she removed her tongue only to then suck on your clit, feeling your leg shake on her shoulder and she brought a finger up to run through your slick. 

she looked at you as she did, her mouth a wet mess and you were in shambles above her. her finger teasingly ran up and down your exposed cunt, giving you just enough but not nearly anything close to the feeling over her tongue. your head leaned back against the wall and your eyes shut tight and she tsk’d, still moving her finger lightly, “eyes on me–” she breathed out, waiting for you to look back at her. when you did, a small smile formed on her lips and she brought her slender finger down your cunt. she slid her finger in, never taking her eyes off of you and watching as you crumble before her. when your chest started to heave as she thrust her finger in and out of you, she brought her mouth back to your clit. 

you were a mess. dripping on her face and bucking your hips as she went to work, the sensation feeling too good and you felt the familiar twinge below your belly button. you were saying her name between breaths and it only made ellie go harder, pumping her fingers as quickly as she could and revolving her tongue through your slick. without warning she retreated, kissing your stomach while she stood back up. your hands found her face to drag her into a long kiss, she pulled you off of the wall and backed you into your own bed. your elbows propped you up as you watched her tower over you, you used this time to yank off your shirt and sports bra, leaving your chest bare for her.

ellie slipped off her own shorts, her underwear with it before climbing on top of you, reconnecting her lips to yours. you tugged on her shirt and it was off in seconds thrown god knows where. she sat up, tracing her fingers along your body as you laid beneath her and it looked like she wanted to say something but refrained herself. instead, lifting up one of your legs and placing herself so her own drenched pussy was atop of yours. she rocked her hips back and forth, feeling the wetness from both of you spread. mumbles left her mouth as she held your leg in the air, covering her own moans by placing soft and sweet kisses on your leg. ellie steadied herself by clutching onto one of your breasts. her pace began to be ragged, feeling herself come nearly undone. she looked down at you, mouth open and eyes in a haze as you gazed back up at her and despite nearing her finish she leaned down so that her thigh was now pressed against your cunt. you whined into her mouth as she kissed you, the tipping sensation leaving as quickly as it came. 

she shuffled off of you, leaning her back to the wall and patted her lap. while you sat down on her lap, she removed her sports bra. her hands fell to your figure and she gazed at you, that unreadable expression still plastered on her face. she looked down at you on her lap and shook her head lightly, “like this–” she moved your body, lifting your leg to move her own out of the way so you were just sitting on her thigh. she tucked your knee in between her legs and her green eyes focused back on you. 

moving your hips on her thigh, ellie kneaded on your tits. she enveloped them in her hands while your knee rubbed against her cunt. your hands rested on her legs behind you, back arching and tits out. ellie wasn’t able to conceal her moans at the sight of you and the feeling deep in her stomach. her hands dug into your thighs, pulling them with every thrust of your hips. “h-holy fuck,” she tossed her head back. the sound of her voice was enough for you to start moving faster, and as you did ellie straightened her posture. she wrapped her arms around your back, pulling you closer while you rocked desperately against her thigh. 

your foreheads crashed, heavy and hot breath spread across each of your faces. with this, you unraveled. cursing coming out of your mouth along with her name in pants while you shook around her thigh, feeling on top of the world. ellie’s hands moved to your tits, watching you cum on her and feeling your tits in her hands she tipped over the edge as well. her breathing was ragged against you and her forehead left yours while she tipped her head back, eyes rolling. you fell on her chest, while both of you tried to return your breathing back to normal. 

she sat with you for a few minutes in silence, you had moved off of her thigh and laid beside her, arm draped over her stomach. her arm was on your back, rubbing small circles. after a bit more of quiet, which seemed to be one of your specialities, you sat up and her eyes followed you. and again, you both spoke over each other. 

“i should go to bed–” 

“i should probably go–” 

without much less, ellie pulled herself off the bed and collected her clothes that had been scattered. you pulled on your own shirt and the awkward silence was heavy in the room. after she had dressed she moved towards the door, hand on the handle. “i’ll see you at the next game?” her eyes scanned your face. 

“yeah, i’ll see you then,” you said painfully and without so much of a second glance she left, the door swinging shut behind her. 

part five

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #modern!ellie williams

[author-morgan]

Title: Dragonknight  Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Even darkness seeks the light, or in which Daemon considers you his northern star —his guiding light.  Warnings: Typically Westerosi shenanigans.

HE LOWERS THE blunted training sword and frowns as you bolt down the steps of the tower and around Ser Ryam the Dragon —not wishing to be the fair maiden in need of saving again. Instead, you take up another sword, too big and heavy, and stand stalwart in your choice. Prince Daemon Targaryen nigh pouts. He’s meant to be brave and valiant and save his lady from danger. “How am I to be your dragonknight if you won’t let me save you?” He laments.

“Two swords are better than one against this fearsome foe,” you tell him, but the game is already over then.  

Ser Ryam Redwyne laughs and rises from his haunches, feeling the ache in his aging joints —Clement Crabb told him it was his turn to entertain the prince and his coconspirator. At least then it would keep the pair out of too much trouble. “She is not wrong, my prince,” he remarks. Even a knight of the Kingsguard has brothers-in-arms, seeking and accepting help does not make one less of a man or less of a prince.

“You make a fine dragon, ser,” you note, remembering your courtesies.

Ser Ryam Redwyne smiles at your compliment. “Thank you, my lady,” the Kingsguard knight says, giving a half-bow to you and Prince Daemon before taking his leave to rejoin the king.

Florence Fossoway enters the courtyard, passing Ser Ryam, with her hands clasped in front of her golden-rose belt. “Prince Daemon,” she greets, lowering her head in veneration before turning her attention to you —a rowdy girl who’d rather frolic about the Red Keep and the streets of King’s Landing with Daemon Targaryen instead of practicing her stitches and letters. Your mother’s lips purse into the slightest of frowns, recalling the conversation the prior eve with her lord husband and your father, Martyn Tyrell. Soon you’ll be too old to partake in such churlish activities. The prince may be able to do as he pleases, but you will not. “It’s time for your lessons,” she reminds you. Sewing, reading, writing, and learning the harp, among other things —all of which are considered comely talents in a good wife.

THE SUN’S WARMTH shines through the canopy of summer foliage to the forest floor of the Kingswood, painting a halo of light around where you and Daemon lay, looking skyward at the passing clouds. It’s a rare thing of late, being able to spend time with him. Too often, duties and lessons keep you and Daemon separated now that you’ve grown older —not quite children any longer, but not yet adults in the eyes of the lords and ladies of the court.

Still, you’ve heard the whispers about what the small council speaks of, and so has Daemon. He sees how you worry in silence, though —always twisting your hair or picking at the skin of your palms, always trying to be a good and dutiful daughter for House Tyrell. But now, more than ever, the whispers are no longer uncertain truths or mere rumors, and in the past weeks, a heavy weight has settled on your chest and shoulders.

You’ve grown quieter as time passes, and the midmorning fades into the afternoon. Daemon looks at you and frowns when he sees unshed tears budding in your eyes. He reaches for your hand, twining his fingers with yours, and squeezes. He’s always been your dearest friend, your dragonknight. "We’ll always be together.” You want to believe him —he sounds so certain of it. “I won’t let anyone take you.” That makes you smile, but Daemon still sees your doubt. “I’m a prince, remember?” And soon to be a dragonrider, he thinks. No one would be able to stop him then. He would be able to whisk you away to the far reaches of the land —places you’ve only ever imagined in stories. 

“Promise?” It’s a trembling whisper. 

“On the Old Gods of Valyria,” he swears, then looks back to the sky and the creeping storm clouds. “One day we can go there,” he says, voicing his thoughts aloud, “on dragon back.” He’s told you about Caraxes —the Blood Wyrm— and Aemon’s former mount. A wild, unpredictable beast with a will strong as any Targaryen’s, but Daemon’s always had an eye for Caraxes. The dragonkeepers oft let the prince into the great dome to see him and the others, though he’s yet to take the Blood Wyrm for his own mount. But soon he will and you’ll both be able to fly high and far and free.

THE HOUR IS late when he knocks on your chamber door, and it rouses you from an ill-fated attempt to sleep. “Daemon?” His silver-white hair is mused from flying, his tunic and pants ruffled too —as though he’s run from Rhaenys's Hill. You pull him from the hall and into your chambers by his sleeve. You’re both too old now for him to come to you in the night —people at court will talk if anyone sees, and the walls of the Red Keep have both eyes and ears.

“I leave in the morn to help Lord Dondarrion stamp out these rumors of an unruly brotherhood in the Dornish Marches,” Daemon tells you. You’ve heard your father speak of those rumors in the prior weeks, even if he doubted the claims —King Jaehaerys’s reign is marked by peace and prosperity. Lord Baelon says he’ll be granted knighthood and the Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister, for quelling the disturbance. “Though, before I leave–” he opens his fist to reveal a glittering white stone strung on a finely crafted rope of silver. “It was meant for your nameday celebration,” Daemon explains, the feast is to be held in a week’s time, and he knows he will not return from the Stormlands so quickly.

He holds up his gift so you can see the finer details —how the dragon’s claw curls around the stone, stamped with a hundred tiny scales. It lifts his heart to see you smile and even more so when you turn away from him, gathering your hair to the side so he may drape the necklace over your head and fasten the clasp.

The firelight catches the gem, and it twinkles around your neck as a star pulled from the heavens. It’s what you are to him, what you’ve always been —a star. A guiding light to pull him from the darkness. Daemon steps toward you, nigh closing what little distance remains, and he reaches for you, the backs of his fingertips brushing along your neck and jaw. “Iksā ñuha qēlos,” he breathes, tender as any caress. The weight of the world lifts from your chest, and Daemon can still see the gleam of childhood memories in your eyes.

“Se iksā ñuha zaldrīzes azantys,” you tell him, slowly, enunciating each word, still uncertain you are speaking the old Valyrian tongue correctly. Daemon smiles for you, his exhale a breathy laugh before he rests his forehead against yours —you’d do almost anything to live in this moment for eternity. But time does not stop for a fool’s desire. His lips, thin and wind burnt, ghost over your forehead, then linger there before he steps back to take his leave.

You stop him before he can go, hand loosely curled around his forearm. Daemon turns back and finds your lips on his —hesitant, but soft and sweet. But it’s over too quickly. “For luck, my prince,” you explain, not wishing to meet his gaze as you feel warmth rush to your cheeks in the aftermath of such a reckless action. The prince’s fingers curl beneath your chin and he surges forward at the same time. His kiss tugs at the corners of your heart, leaving you to shatter when his hands, now splayed across your back, draw you closer. And when your arms twine around his shoulders, Daemon’s certain he won’t ever be able to let you go.

LEANOR FLIES TO the Driftmark astride Seasmoke and beckons you to accompany him back to the Stepstones —for Prince Daemon has won the war, but he has not done so unscathed and there is only one person he wishes to see. They call him a madman and they hail him as a hero as you move through the victorious war camp. There are tales of how he slew twenty men, how it was only the three arrows that slowed him, but even still he cleaved the Crabfeeder in two. A maester exits the tent, his pale robes stained with blood. “How is he?” You ask.

But the voice that answers in the maester’s place is familiar, albeit rougher than usual and still laced with pain —the last dose of milk of the poppy has yet to take its numbing hold. “Come ask him yourself,” Daemon groans, recognizing your voice and shadow.

One of Corlys’s men draws back the flaps of the patched tent for you to enter. He lies on the cot, torso bound in linen strips speckled with blood, and his hair still a knotted mess of dried filth from the battle. Daemon means to sit up, but you stop him with a firm hand pressed to his shoulder and kneel at his bedside instead. “Issa sȳz naejot ūndegon ao.” It’s been many long months since you’ve last seen him —and even then, it is only fleeting moments on Dragonstone or at Driftmark before he returns to war and uncertainty.

Daemon reaches for you, his rough fingertips trailing across your cheek and jaw, then down to your neck and the silver chain resting there. You’ve scarcely parted from his gift since receiving it —letting it serve as a reminder for all those at court that your heart already belonged to another. The stone pendant still shines like a star even after the years, just as you do, always guiding him home. You take his hand and kiss his bruised and cut knuckles. “Ñuha qēlos,” Daemon whispers, and it sets your heart aflutter all over again.

It’s instinctive to lean into him when he pushes himself from the cot. Then he kisses you until the cold sea breeze falls away and your body sings with warmth —kisses you until he feels something melt inside him that nigh hurts in some strange, exquisite way. It’s all his longing and dreams and sweet anguish, and it all transforms into something enchanting, and when Daemon parts, everything makes sense once more —feels right once more. He lays back, grimacing. The Crabfeeder’s arrows struck deep. Daemon takes a long, slow breath, his eyes burning into you. “Avy jorrāelan,” he says, and he’s a fool for not saying it sooner. You kiss the corner of his lips in response, for you’ve already spake your love for your dragonknight.

“I mean to take the Stepstones as mine own,” he tells you. They will call him King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, and he will make his own mark on Westeros and the world beyond. But the stone seat and his bed will be cold without someone to share it with —he needs a queen to share the title and burden with. Daemon holds onto your hand and holds it close to his heart. “We can be together.” Together, you smile at the thought and rest your head on his chest. Together is all you’ve ever wanted. 

High Valyrian translations: Iksā ñuha qēlos. - You are my star. Se iksā ñuha zaldrīzes azantys. - And you are my dragon knight. Issa sȳz naejot ūndegon ao. - It is good to see you. Ñuha qēlos. - My star. Avy jorrāelan. - I love you.

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#Daemon Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x Reader #Daemon x Reader #Daemon Targaryen Fanfic #House of the Dragon #Matt Smith #my writing #fic setting: pre HotD and up to the start of the War for the Stepstones #if you notice something wrong with my high valyrian translations plz let me know

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Sore Loser - Jake Kiszka

A/N: My first fic of the smut wars with @ageofbarbarians <3 -Not- sorry for this one, Jake’s lane…

This is only LIGHTLY proof-read!

WARNINGS: This is 18+ Minors DNI!! Drinking, party games, Asshole!Jake, dom!Jake, hate-fucking, name calling, blood (it’s not what you think lol) degradation, hair pulling, choking, slapping, spitting, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex. Hopefully I didn’t miss any!

Masterlist

••••

“Two more, Y/N and you got him!” Sam cheered you on, clearly fighting back the urge to grip the edge of the beer pong table in anticipation.

You had no idea how you got roped into playing a round of beer pong, with the one person you absolutely couldn’t stand. The feeling was mutual, though… Jake couldn’t stand you either. But, you weren’t regretting it as much as you thought you would in the beginning, as you lined yourself up to make your next shot at his last two cups standing.

Meanwhile on your end of the table, most of the cups were still standing.

“Oh…Oh-” Danny whispered, watching the ball leave your fingers. “OH, SHIT!”

“She’s a fucking beast! I told you!” Sam shouted as he and Danny cheered obnoxiously.

“Do you want her to sink this last one, or just accept defeat now??” Sam snorted, laughing even more as Jake’s face grew even more irritated.

“You could still recover…” Josh tried to soothe him, knowing good and well there was not a chance of a comeback.

Jake shot him a death glare over his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Someone handed the ball back to you and you let out a long, nervous breath. The room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop; all eyes -Jake’s included- staring you down with some antsy and some hopeful expressions. Jake’s face was just downright livid.

You lifted your arm, setting yourself up for what would hopefully your final, winning shot.

Holding your breath, you flicked your wrist just so and the small ball flew from your fingers, directly into Jake’s last cup flawlessly.

The room erupted in loud cheers, Danny, Sam and even Josh coming around to bombard you with praises and tipsy hugs.

Jake’s hands slammed down against the wooden table with a loud bang that startled at least half the room. The force of his actions shook the whole table, causing the remaining cups of liquor on your end to spill everywhere.

“Come on, Jake. Don’t be a sore loser.” You teased, only pushing his buttons further.

God, was it nice to be the one doing the shit talking for once. Finally being the one to make Jake mad, versus the other way around - how it normally was.

Jake snatched his (still mostly full) bottle of whiskey from the table angrily, leaving drops of the sloshing liquid all over the table from the force in which he snatched it. Josh watched him attentively, opening his mouth to speak, but shut it as soon as Jake stormed passed him.

The whole room made awkward attempts at turning their attention elsewhere, in attempts at pretending Jake’s little outburst didn’t happen, save for the four of you.

“I think he might be pissed.” Sam snickered in his intoxicated state. “Like really pissed. God, he’s such a hot head.”

“No shit, Sam.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it’s just the alcohol…”

It definitely was not just the alcohol and you all knew it.

“He’ll be fine… Just let him be, I guess.” Josh sighed, eyes fixed on the hallway Jake had just disappeared down.

You could tell Josh was slightly taken aback by Jake’s behavior, which made a twinge of guilt start to form inside you - Even though you disliked him because of how he treated you. However, there was not a chance in hell you were going to ruin your once-in-a-blue-moon victory.

“Should I go apologize?” you questioned, biting back a smirk.

The eyes of all three boys shot to you immediately, widened with shock.

“Are you okay? Or are you that drunk?” Danny questioned, walking towards you with outstretched arms.

You huffed a laugh, swatting his arms away. “No, I’m not drunk, Danny. I’d say that was pretty fucking sobering.”

“I would definitely leave Jake alone right now, if I were you.” Josh suggested lightly.

As his twin, he knows Jake better than anyone in the room. You knew you should listen to Josh, but being the biggest hardhead, you were definitely going to ignore his suggestion.

“I’m just gonna go talk to him.” You told them, earning you looks of disapproval from Danny and Josh.

“You two can barely get along. I seriously don’t think this is the best choice you’re making.” Josh tried again, hoping to talk you out of it. “I’d just leave him be.”

“Oh, relax Josh,” Sam shrugged, slumping over into Danny’s shoulder. “We all know you’re not really going up there to apologize.”

You shot Sam a glare of distaste, only making his smirk grow wider. “Am I wrong?”

“Y/N, seriously. If you’re just trying to go in there and rattle his cage even more… don’t.” Josh pleaded with you.

You simply ignored Josh’s pleas, sitting your cup down on the table amongst the others that were tipped over.

All three boys watched you walk down the hall in silence.

“Yeah, okay! Don’t listen to his twin or anything!” Josh yelled after you as you disappeared out of sight.

You shook your head, smiling to yourself at how desperate he sounded. Rightfully so on Josh’s part, to be fair. You were sailing on some dangerous waters.

Those dangerous waters being an angry Jake.

As you reached his door, you fully expected some of your confidence to dissipate out of nerves, fear, whatever. Instead, you found a new wave overcoming you. In your over-confidence and clouded judgment, you reached for the door handle and swung open the door of Jake’s room.

“What the fuck??” Jake snapped, jumping up from where he had been sitting on the bed. There was a blink of thick silence; the perfect opportunity to for you to back out… But you decided to stay.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! Barging in here like this is your own god damn room?!”

Jake’s voice was loud enough to echo through the entire house. You were sure that Josh, Danny and probably even Sam were all cringing to themselves in the living room.

“I came to apologize.” You flashed him your best doe eyes and sweet smile.

The booming, humorless, laugh that Jake let out made your body jolt lightly.

“Oh! Now that’s fucking golden,” Jake laughed dryly. “In that case, you’re not forgiven. Get the fuck out.”

He pointed at the door and if looks could kill, you would have been dead within seconds.

“God, all this attitude just because you lost to me, Jakey? That’s a bit pathetic, don’t you think?” You provoked him further, smirking wickedly when his face turned bright red right before your eyes.

As his brain further processed everything you’d just said, his fists clenched at his sides and in the blink of an eye, you were being forcefully slammed into his bedroom door.

The door slammed closed behind you with a loud bang, sending a painting that was above the light switch tumbling down from the wall. The force of in which your back hit the door, sent all the air rushing out of your lungs.

Now, this… this was a bit more than you had bargained for.

As if they had been anxiously waiting for something to happen, you heard

loud, rushed footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Y/N? Jake?! What the fuck?!?” Danny yelled from outside the door, jiggling the handle frantically.

“Fuck off, Danny!” Jake bit angrily, reaching down to firmly hold the door handle in place, causing his body to press harder against yours.

“I’m- We’re fine, Danny..” You croaked out, trying -but failing- to sound reassuring.

Jake had his head turned away from you, staring down at the floor, just waiting for Danny to say something else. You on the other hand, had your eyes screwed shut and hands flat against the door. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, breath catching in your throat every so often.

The two of you stayed just like that for what felt like ages, but was really only seconds. The only sounds being your’s and Jake’s breathing and the low sounds of Jimi Hendrix playing through his record player.

“If they kill each other, they kill each other...” You faintly heard Danny mumble to whoever was with him. Most likely Josh.

You could picture Danny shrugging in utter defeat.

“Jake..” you whispered hesitantly and his eyes shot up to yours immediately.

Jake’s stare was cold and dark. Downright bone-chilling and it made you feel immensely intimidated.

“You-” He growled, letting go of the door handle and pointing his finger at you. “-You have some goddamn nerve, you know that? God, I was hoping you would go straight through this door, but I guess I’m not that lucky.”

Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly, while you fought with your brain to come up with at least a half decent comeback.

“You couldn’t put me through this door, even if you were Danny’s size.” You fired back. Finally.

“Mm. If only Daniel hated you as much as I do… I would gladly ask him to do it.” Jake spoke wishfully, mostly ignoring your blow - comparing his size to Danny’s.

“Too bad he doesn’t.” You smirked triumphantly. “Does it get exhausting, Jakey? Hating my guts for no apparent reason?” You lended a sweetness to your tone, especially on the nickname.

“Stop fucking calling me that.” Jake demanded. “You know what gets exhausting?? Listening to you talk. That annoying, sweet, little voice of yours makes my blood boil.”

“Then shut me up, Jakey.” You challenged him, glancing down at his lips briefly without thinking. “You won’t do shit.”

Jake placed one hand on your hip and wrapped his other around your throat. His whole body pressed you harder into the door with the new leverage; the wood cracking and popping softly behind you. His face was suddenly millimeters from yours, his lips ghosting over the skin just shy of your lips. It was as if he was fighting every urge in his body that was screaming at him to kiss you. To take you to bed and fuck you senseless; the way he always wanted to deep down, but would never dare admit to himself.

“I won’t do shit…?” He spoke against the corner of you mouth.

“Say it again.”

Your own mind raced, trying to figure out why you so badly wanted to seek out his lips.

Your body took over, as if acting without permission from your brain. You chased after the impending kiss as much as your body would allow with his hand around your throat, pinning your head against the door.

“No.” Jake growled, pulling away just out of your reach. “Tell me again I won’t do shit.”

“You won’t do shit.”

Jake flashed you the tiniest smirk, before-

Smack.

His hand retreated from your throat and collided with your cheek. Not enough to genuinely hurt you, but enough to cause the slightest sting to form over your skin. A very pleasurable sting, at that - To your surprise.

Jake searched your face, his filthy smirk widening when all he found was your mouth agape in shock and a deep red blush taking over your cheeks. Mentally you were kicking yourself for liking it… And letting him see that you liked it.

“I’m gonna show you just how much I can’t fucking stand you.” Jake said lowly, like it was a promise.

Without letting you even get a word in, his lips finally connected with yours. You kissed him back without a second thought. It was clear some part deep inside both of had been wanting it, just by how desperate and intense the kiss was.

As the kids intensified, your hands found the hem of his shirt. You gave it a strong tug, signaling that you wanted it gone.

“Already? God you’re such an impatient little whore.” Jake taunted, pulling away to tug his shirt over his head.

“If I’m coming out of my shirt, so are you.”

He pulled away from you, but only leaving you just enough room for you to get your shirt over your head. Once it was off, you were back against the door.

“Jake-“ You hissed, arching away from the cool wood.

“Shut up.”

Jake went for the swell of one of your breasts that was peaking out from your bra. He began biting from there all the way up your neck, to your jaw and finally back to up to your lips, where he captured your lips in another rough kiss.

His lips were -almost literally- intoxicating, tasting of the Whiskey he’d been sipping on for the last couple hours.

Jake broke away just enough to take your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it until a whine finally erupted from you.

“We’ll see how long you keep running this little mouth.” Jake added, grabbing your jaw.

“Around you? Good luck getting me to stop.” You glared up at his lust blown eyes.

Jake jerked you away from the door, practically dragging you over to his bed and throwing you down. Everything he did was with so much force and speed, it made your head spin trying to keep up.

“We’ll see about that when I’m finished fucking you into this mattress.” Jake’s hands found each of your wrists, gathering them both into one hand and pinning them above your head. You gave them an experimental tug, just to see how strong he was - As if how hard he slammed you into his door wasn’t enough proof of his strength.

Jake used one of his legs to spread yours apart and his free hand snuck between your legs, taunting you with a barely there touch over your throbbing core.

“All I better here out of that mouth, is you begging for me to let you cum.” Jake told you, continuing to trace over your core teasingly. “No.. That IS all I’m gonna hear,” Jake rephrased matter-of-factly. “I’ll care about your pleasure when hell freezes over.”

“Well, aren’t you just the biggest pleasure dom.” You jested sarcastically, involuntarily pushing your hips into Jake’s hand.

“And you’re a needy whore.” Jake chuckled without an ounce of humor. “You’re already trying to get some pleasure.”

Jake’s hand swiftly collided with your throbbing cunt, smacking it just like he had done with your cheek.

“Oh, fuck-“ you gasped, jerking your hips away from him.

“Too bad I’m not gonna give it to you…” Jake added on, landing one more smack against you.

“Jake, I-”

“Shut up. One more word from you and I’ll take my belt to your ass.” Jake threatened, but you quickly decided that’s exactly what you wanted.

Jake raised his eyebrows questioningly, as you opened your mouth to speak.

“I don’t take commands from a sore loser.” You spoke defiantly, giving one strong yank at your arms.

“You know what-“ Jake mumbled and released your hands, getting off of you.

He stood at the edge of the bed with a dark, heated expression, pointing to the floor.

“Get up, pants off. Now.”

You hesitated for a beat, looking at him with a blank expression.

“Keep fucking trying me, Y/N. PLEASE, keep it up.” Jake barked, daring you to continue pushing your limits.

Making sure to really make your actions look reluctant; you got up and stood in front of him, as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Just the pants?” You questioned in fake disappointment.

Jake narrowed his eyes at you, giving you a look that made your blood run ice cold. You caved and began undoing the button and zipper of your jeans. “Okay, okay...”

“Panties too, baby girl.“ Jake gestured to your lower half, eyes locked on your nearly naked body.

You slid them down your legs slowly, making a little show of it for him, until they were completely gone from your body. You stepped towards Jake, but he stopped you with a single hand, standing up from the edge of the bed.

“You think I was gonna let you sit in my lap? Not a fucking chance.” Jake’s hands began undoing the buckle of his belt, the clanking of the metal sending chills down your spine and straight to your core.

Once he pulled it out from the loops of his jeans, he sat back down on the edge of the bed.

“Come here.” Jake’s hand grabbed at your arm, pulling you to him. “Lay across my lap, so I can mark this ass with my name.”

You did as he said without any hesitation for once. Every part of you was enjoying this and Jake was becoming very much aware of the little game you were playing with him.

“Don’t get it twisted, I still don’t like you… But your safe word is purple. Got it?” Despite the dry tone to his voice, Jake still made sure you were not in a position you couldn’t get out of.

“Got i- Fuck, Jake!”

Jake’s belt snapped against your ass before you could even get the words out. Your hand clasped over your mouth in attempts to muffle the pornographic moan that was threatening to rip its way out of you.

“Uncover your mouth, or I’ll tie your hands up.” Jake threatened, drawing his arm back to release another blow to your ass.

The stinging burn returned again within seconds, making you wince and moan at the same time.

“Ja- Jake,” you stuttered, feeling your resolve crumbling quicker than you could save it.

“Does this feel good?” Jake spat, whipping the belt against your ass again.

“F-fuck! Yes!” you admitted breathlessly, head dropping down as you gripped Jake’s thigh.

“Oh, of course it does.” Jake scoffed, with yet another crack of his belt. “I would expect nothing less from you. Such a little slut.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed out through gritted teeth.

You heard the sound of Jake’s belt hitting the wall and jumped slightly, his hand coming down against the red, blistering area of your ass.

“Jake, please!“ You pleaded, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Please what, bitch? Go on, beg for what you want.” He taunted, as if he was really going to grant you whatever you beg for.

“Tell me why I should fuck you.” He demanded, taunting your entrance with two of his fingers.

“No,” you refused stubbornly.

Jake grabbed you up in his arms, stood up and tossed you down on the bed with a loud crack ringing out from beneath the mattress.

“Fuck it,” Jake hissed, climbing over you.

It was then you had realized the slight dip in the middle as he got on top of you.

“Did you just brea-“

“Yes and I said fuck it.” Jake cut you off, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He bit down on it harshly, eliciting a choked moan from you.

You arched up into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging roughly. Jake groaned, biting even harder down on your other nipple.

Jake released it, trailing sloppy kisses down your stomach.

He bit into your hip, sucking a hickey into the skin there, before finally moving the rest of the way down to your aching core.

“You don’t wanna beg me?” Jake questioned, looking up at you with dark eyes. “Well, you will once my mouth is wrapped around your clit and I’m telling you not to cum.”

“I-I doubt that. No way in hell you can make me beg.” You held Jake’s eyes as he placed a kiss just above your clit, knowing good and well that once Jake’s mouth was on you, it was gonna be hard to keep up this little act of yours.

“Okay. Your words, sweetheart.” Jake chuckled lowly. “Your words.”

Splaying a hand over each of your thighs, Jake shoved your legs further apart. His mouth hovered over you, smirking to himself as he watched your cunt clench around nothing.

You stared up at the ceiling, breath catching on every other intake. The anticipation and uneven breathing was already making you dizzy.

Jake licked teasingly from your entrance up to your clit, just barely flicking it a few times with his tongue. He was holding back on purpose, wanting to prolong your torture even more.

You breathed in and out heavily, already fighting back the urge to let his name tumble off your lips.

Jake’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, sucking on it with more force than what his previous actions had been. Your hips bucked up into his mouth involuntarily and you immediately looked down to see Jake’s reaction. He was smiling cockily against you, his arm snaking over your hips to keep you in place.

“So desperate already.” Jake taunted, his free hand coming down to tease at your entrance. He watched your face for any sort of reaction as he sunk two fingers into you. Meeting his intense stare, you gulped down the moan that was bubbling up to the back of your throat.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.” Jake said through gritted teeth.

Curling his fingers inside you, he searched for your sweet spot. His mouth found your clit again, eating you out with a mind blowing level of determination.

After no more than a minute of Jake’s mouth eating you out like you were his first meal in days, you were finding it extremely difficult to keep yourself quiet. Jake’s fingers worked at your sweet spot steadily, every so often sinking them in even deeper to beckon you closer to the edge, prodding into a spot you didn’t even know was there. He kept you just shy of your orgasm for what felt like forever, not letting you get quite there; keeping you just close enough to let that dull burn in the pit of your stomach drive you crazy.

“Jake,” you whimpered, chest heaving rapidly.

He payed you absolutely no mind - Ignoring you entirely, continuing to unravel you with his fingers and mouth.

“Make me cum, Jake.” You tried to demand, but he ignored you once again. The frustration building inside you was easily enough to make you cry. “J-Jake.” You tried to repeat firmly.

“No.” Jake pulled away from you, replacing his mouth with his thumb.

You rolled your hips, trying to press his thumb harder into your clit.

“You want it, slut? What did I say you had to do?”

You let out an annoyed groan. “I said I’m not begging you, Kiszka.”

“Then I guess you’re not gonna get off tonight.” Jake smirked, digging his fingers deeper into you. “Not like I care anyways.”

Deciding to play dirty, Jake sped up his fingers inside you and his thumb over clit, quickly bringing you right up to the edge.

“Jake- Jake, Jake!” you repeated, your skin tingling, orgasm mere seconds away from taking over you.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Jake stopped his assault on your clit, but didn’t remove his fingers from you. Instead pressing into your sweet spot mercilessly, letting you throb around his fingers.

“I.. fucking hate you...” you squirmed, desperately trying to move his fingers off that spot inside you.

“You don’t mean that,” He teased sarcastically, shooting you a fake smile.

His thumb returned to your clit once again and your whole body jolted under his touch.

“Aren’t you just the cutest?” Jake cooed in a faux caring voice. “Trying to act like I have absolutely no effect on you… Like you ACTUALLY hate me.”

“I do actually h-hate you,” You scoffed, squeezing your eyes shut. “And you hate me.”

Jake huffed a laugh through his nose, eyes racking over your body as it twitched and grew warmer and warmer beneath him. Whether he would still “hate” you after this was to be determined in his mind.

Tangling your hands in the comforter of Jake’s bed, you let out a quiet whine as he hurled you back towards another orgasm.

“Aww, is my stubborn little slut getting close?” Jake slowed his fingers and more of your stubborn act crumbled away as he let another orgasm fall away.

“Jake, please…” You muttered quietly.

Jake raised a brow at you, leaning over your body with his face inches from yours.

“Mm, I didn’t catch that, baby girl.”

“You heard me.” You sassed, meeting his eyes boldly.

“Maybe I did,” Jake whispered against your cheek. His hand abandoned your hip and wrapped around you throat. “But I want you to say it again.”

“You… you’ve gotta do better than that, Jake.”

Jake pulled his fingers out of you and before you could even protest, they were being shoved into your mouth without any warning.

“Keep running this little mouth.” Jake growled, his hand that was holding down your hip, now wrapping securely around your throat. “Please, keep it up. I’ll take you back downstairs to that party, bend you down over that beer pong table and fuck you dumb in front of everyone.”

Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly. You watched Jake lean back, popping the button of his jeans and shoving them down his legs. He tossed them off somewhere on his bedroom floor, along with his boxers and leaned over to his nightstand, picking up his bottle of whiskey. You couldn’t help but to stare at his size, noting how painfully hard he looked. For some reason, it just struck you by surprise that he was maybe enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Maybe one day everyone can watch me hate-fuck you completely stupid-” Jake started, moving back over top of you, with his bottle in hand. “-But for now, they just get to listen.”

Bringing the bottle to his lips, he tipped his head back along with it. He pulled the bottle away just as quickly as he had brought it up to his lips, his mouth still full of the dark liquor.

Jake’s other hand went up to your face and his thumb played with your bottom lip. When you didn’t quite catch his drift, his whole hand collided with your cheek.

Your mouth fell open immediately, releasing an uncontrollable moan and Jake took that as his chance. He lined his mouth up above yours, sending a stream of liquor directly into your mouth.

Jake watched your mouth close slowly, a small droplet of liquor dripping down the side of your mouth. “Swallow it.”

The Whiskey burned delightfully as it traveled down your throat, warning you up from the inside out - as if you weren’t already hot enough.

You opened your mouth up for Jake, showing him that you had swallowed it all.

“Nice to know you can actually fucking listen..” He mumbled, taking a drink from the bottle himself, before leaning over to the nightstand and sitting it back down.

Jake took himself in his hand, sucking in a breath through his teeth as he tended to his throbbing cock.

You watched him with hooded eyes, mouth watering at the pre cum leaking from him.

Hooking a leg over his hip, Jake lined himself up at your entrance. He just barely pushed himself in, pulling back out completely and running himself through your folds. He repeated the action a few times, eyes locked on where his cock was teasing you.

“I hope you can fuck better than you play beer pong, Jakey.” You quipped boldly without really thinking, watching his face harden.

With a sharp thrust, Jake filled you up completely. You moaned loudly at the unexpected stretch of him filling you up, gripping at his forearms on either side of your head.

“Why are you moaning already??” Jake taunted questioningly, drawing back and slamming his hips back into yours. “That’s an awfully bold thing to say, for someone who’s already moaning for me.”

“Jesus christ, Jake!” You choked out,

eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yeah? What is it, baby girl? Hmm?” Jake cooed as if he really cared, punctuating his words with another deep thrust. “Does it feel good when I go this deep?”

“J-Jake- Fucking, please!” You begged, feeling him brush against places inside you that no one had ever reached before.

“Please, what??” Jake pried in a low tone, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging it roughly. “Look at you… My stubborn little whore is falling apart, isn’t she?”

His repeated use of “My” made your head spin.

Jake’s lips connected with your neck and he settled into a faster pace, fucking into you mercilessly.

“I think you might need a little more of an incentive than this, don’t you?”

Jake bit at your earlobe, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t- I don’t need.. anything from you.” You moaned out, trying to hold onto what little bit of hate and defiance you had left.

“That’s not the answer I was looking for, but-“

Jake’s hands found the backs of your knees and pushed them back until they were almost touching your chest. He went right back into his previous pace and an embarrassingly loud moan flew from your mouth.

“Yeah, there we go…” Jake smirked proudly.

Hooking his arms around your legs, he reached up to the headboard, giving himself even better leverage.

“Slow d-down, I-Can’t! I can’t, Jake!” Your hands found the backs of his shoulders, digging your nails in and dragging them across his skin.

An animalistic groan erupted from him and you could see the muscles throughout his arms tense, as he gripped the metal bed frame until his knuckles were white.

Feeling something wet on the tips of yours fingers, you brought on of your hands to his chest to see what it was, noticing the faint trails of red your fingertips left behind.

“Damn it, Y/N-“ Jake hissed, letting out another loud groan.

The two of you could without a doubt be heard by his brothers and all your friends downstairs. Especially you.

You could feel the familiar burn return to the pit of your stomach and in light of not wanting to have your orgasm ripped away for the fourth time, you decided not to tell Jake.

“Is that how good I make you feel? Enough for you to make me fucking bleed??” Jake asked you, fighting back his knowing smirk when you started to clench tighter around him. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

“N-no,” you lied, whining when Jake’s pace slowed down.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N.” Jake warned. “You CAN’T lie to me.”

Jake slowed almost to a complete stop, only giving you a halfhearted thrust ever few seconds. He let your legs down, resting his on one of his forearms above you. Sneaking his other arm between your bodies, he traced you stomach teasingly.

“I bet you’re just aching right here, aren’t you?” Jake’s tone was dripping in faux sympathy. He watched you breathe in and out heavily, tiny whimpers leaving your lips on every release.

“Please, Jake… it hurts..” It wasn’t a lie. As pleasurable of an ache as it may have been at first, it was starting to drive you up the wall.

“You know what you have to do, then.” Jake reminded you. “”Please, Jake” Isn’t good enough.”

Jake’s thumb swept over your clit and you reached for his wrist to tear his hand away. “I can do this all night, baby girl.” He whispered as he started to slowly fuck in and out of you again and you cried out.

“I know, I know… It just feels so good and you wanna cum.” Jake goaded, working his way back up to his previous pace, with the added stimulation of his thumb.

“So pathetic and greedy. Beg for it, slut.”

“Let me cum, Jake, please! Fucking tell me I can,” you pleaded, fucked out and whiny.

Jake’s thumb pressed into your clit harder and you caved, dangerously close to coming undone around him.

“Okay, okay! Jake, please please please!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut as you gasped to fill your lungs with air.

“Let me cum, please, I need it so bad! I give in- Please, Jake!”

Jake moaned, satisfied enough by your begging. He pulled out of you and laid down next to you. Before you could even protest, he pulled you on top of him and lined you up with his cock. You sunk down on him with a pathetic cry of bliss and over-sensitivity.

“You wanna cum so bad? Get yourself off, then, slut.” Jake commanded, guiding your hips. “Make a mess like the little whore you are, c’mon.”

You leaned forward and gripped Jake’s shoulders, making him suck on a breath through his teeth at the twinge of pain your nails caused.

“I’m not getting you off, so you better do it yourself if you wanna cum.” Jake rasped into your ear and he reached up, taking one of your wrists in his hand. He placed your hand where your bodies’ were joined, holding it there with a firm grip.

You rubbed quick circles into your clit, not giving a single fuck about Jake’s refusal to get you off himself - Even though he was the whole reason you were so close in the first place. It got him off just to watch you fall apart above him, forcing you to do it yourself just to be an ass, yet still knowing he was a main source of pleasure.

“Please, Jake can I cum?? Please, I can’t… I can’t-“

“Cum for me, baby girl. Be a filthy little whore and make a mess all over me.” Jake’s hand reached up to your hair, tugging it until you were staring at the ceiling.

As though your body was just waiting for those words from him, you spiraled into your orgasm within seconds.

Your back arched and if it weren’t for Jake’s other hand abandoning your wrist and supporting your back, you would have fallen backwards. Your vision blurred around the edges and you could only faintly hear yourself screaming Jake’s name.

Jake, mere seconds away from his own high, lifted you off of himself and moved you to sit on his thigh. He jerked himself off until he came all over his stomach, a raspy groan of your name falling gracefully off of his lips. It was the first time you had heard your name ever sound like that coming from him. Certainly a sound to be cherished.

Your hands held onto his hips as you shakily tried to keep yourself upright.

Jake’s head laid back against his pillows and his eyes were closed, focused on calming himself down.

“Jake…” You whispered his name hesitantly.

One of his eyes popped open and closed a second later. “Hmm?”

“Where are my clothes?”

It was a dumb question… You knew they were scattered around his room. You asked for the sole purpose of trying to find an out, assuming he was going to kick you out at any moment anyway.

“Why?” Jake asked, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Well i- i figured you…” You trailed off, unsure of what exactly to even say. “..You would want me to like… lea-“

“And who said I was done with you?” Jake smirked, giving you a mischievous look.

“You’re not going anywhere yet.”

@jordierama @shutupdevvie @ageofbarbarians @positivegvfthings @greta-van-chaos @theweightofjake @jake-kiszkas-smirk @earthlysorrows @writingcold @lo-pe-ak

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[darkdrin6]

Okay, since the release has almost taken place (and many have either passed the game or watched the walkthrough), but it's time to whine.

We absolutely hate the plot of this game. He is ridiculous, all attention is focused on the Edenic family (in particular, Mileena), many characters have lost their individuality.

This is someone's bad fan fiction. Admit that you lost the script after drinking and found only some fan fiction in the bowels of AO3. Otherwise, it is completely unclear why this plot is so bad. It was written by a team of screenwriters! A team of professionals! But at the exit we got some plot shit.

Liu is completely incompetent in the role of God. Why does everyone call him a good guy? Why does everyone worship him so much? Reiden made mistakes in his time, he was not everyone's favorite, but at the same time he did not allow the collapse of timelines, you know.

Oh, he wanted to prevent all threats? But at the same time, he did nothing with either Shang Tsung or Quan Chi, only gave them a motive to desire power and might. If Liu was so afraid, he would have strangled them in the cradle. And do not say that he is not like that. His actions are always worth the sacrifice.

Many will be glad that Mileena has finally received her redemption, but remember that the character is not the color of the costume. Mileena, who deserved redemption, the one who really suffered and fought for her right not only to the throne, but also to exist. And this spoiled girl is not Mileena, but her parody.

The Sub-Zero brothers are the most painful part of this game. Just look at what they did to Bi Han and Kuai. Their relationship has always been something important in the series, we understood that Qui really loved his brother and wanted to help him, even after learning that he was turned into the undead.

In MK1, when they are both captured and Bi Han begins to say that they should join Shang Tsung, Kuai does not doubt for a minute that his brother could lie to buy time or extract information from the sorcerer. Kuai instantly accepts this as the truth and attacks Bi Han. He doesn't want to stun him, he's trying to kill him. It feels like Qui was waiting for an excuse to betray his brother. And Kuai takes him out of the fortress stunned, not because he does not want to leave him to his fate, but because he does not want him to help the enemies. And even here he acts stupidly, because he does not capture his brother, preventing him from doing something terrible, does not take over the management of a militarized clan, but simply abandons Bi Han and runs away.

What is this shit?

We refuse to call this whore in yellow both Kuai and Scorpion. Kuai Liang is a venerable warrior, loyal to the clan and his family. Scorpion is a restless ghost, full of grief for his family. False-Kuai is just a little bastard who distorts both of these images.

Look into Bi Han's eyes. It's like he understands what kind of shit is waiting for him, but there's nothing he can do about it.

#mk #mortal kombat #sub zero #bi han #mk1 #mileena #kuai liang #scorpion #mk scorpion #mk sub zero #bi-han #mk spoilers #mortal kombat 11

[kirishimasensei]

what spring does with the cherry trees (part I)

You stay at your godfather’s ludus for the summer, where you meet Bakugou Katsuki, his champion gladiator.

part I | part II

author :: KirishimaSensei (Misha) pairing :: Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader word count :: 2.3k tags :: Spartacus AU | adult characters | adult language | descriptions of violence | ancient Roman slavery

i. "How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running..."

Sword meets spear, steel against unyielding steel, sending a symphony of sparks flying from both men’s weapons and onto the sands. You can feel the roar of the crowd around the pulvinus where you sit, the vibrations finding haven in your otherwise motionless body, creeping its way through your heart like desire. But even still, the sound of steel rings in your ears, drowning out all other noises of the arena until all you can hear is sword against spear against shield.

The day is growing late, coloring the sky with a deep magenta glow that signals the approaching dusk. Though the sun is slowly descending, the heat still lays on you like a blanket, surrounding you, warming your already overheated skin as you absentmindedly call for wine.

You startle when you feel a hand at your shoulder. Your thoughts have been intent on the games, but now free from your reverie, you smile up at your godfather and accept the glass offered to you.

“I had not known you were so captivated by the games!” Todroki Enji says, pleased at the revelation, the changes he has seen in you since you were a child.

You have been away from Capua for five years now, and have returned a woman now grown. Your best friend and godbrother, Shouto, had left for school at the same time, as children of a certain age and state do when the time comes. Since then, your father has sadly passed on, your mother long since gone, and instead of staying in Rome with your step-brother and his wife, you decided to return to Capua, welcomed without question into the Todoroki household. 

Shouto had decided not to return, staying instead with his own mother to care for her once she was dismissed from his father’s home. You would miss your childhood friend, and although Shouto vowed never to return to Capua, he promised that the two of you would never be too long away from one another. 

Being Shouto’s friend, and spending so much time at Villa Todoroki, you have been well acquainted with gladiators and what the sport entails. As a child, you could barely stomach the gladiatorial games, disgusted at the senseless killing, the bloodshed. The skill that the warriors possessed, that you were intrigued by, studying them as they trained in the practice field below the Todoroki Villa balcony. But the idea of forcing someone to kill for sport, that your younger self could not bear.

“I have only now realized their appeal,” you admit before taking a sip of your wine. 

You have to hold back a grimace. Not Cestian, you note, but an inferior vino. Next time, you will be sure to request water. You hand the glass off to your body slave and turn your attention back to the display before you.

It is not the games themselves that you have learned to favor, but the gladiators who fought in them. More precisely, one gladiator in particular who is putting on quite an impressive show at the moment, leaving you fixed on the edge of your chair.

The gladiator’s hard body shines radiant beneath the Roman sun, so much that you believe that he must have been sculpted from bronze, carved with thoughtful, meticulous strokes, lovingly crafted by the gods themselves. He is made of strong lines and chiseled plains, wide shoulders tapered down to a slender waist. Powerful arms, stronger legs, a graceful jaw paired with eyes like jewels and lips like sin.

Bakugou Katsuki is the most glorious being that you have ever seen.

“A spectacle isn’t it?” Enji asks you. “Katsuki is well versed in pleasing the crowd.”

“Well versed, indeed,” you reply, though you are not so joyous. 

The thought of this match has plagued you since news of it. Katsuki and the undefeated Champion of Capua fighting sine missione – to the death. It was enough to reduce you to tremors. But now, seeing the two before you, your nerves quickly fade, leaving only longing in their wake.

Katsuki owns the arena – the sand beneath his feet, the swords in his hands, the crowds clamoring around him. His opponent will soon be his too. The day will be won and he will be the new champion.

You watch as Katsuki side steps his opponent’s attack, leaving the man sprawled upon the ground. He quickly recovers, though, and lunges for Katsuki who evades the sword meant to pierce his stomach and bends beneath the weapon. He then lands a blow to his attacker’s back, once more sending him to the sand.

Katsuki’s laugh finds its way up to the pulvinus, wrapping around you like a tangible thing. You have heard him speak in the ludus, instructing his fellow gladiators with the right combination of firm demands and helpful guidance. You have heard his voice during practice spars, taunting his opponent with playful banter. You have dreamed of his voice, of Katsuki whispering in your ear as he thrusts inside of you, passionate words made rough and thick. If you were deaf to everything but the gladiator’s voice, still you would be a contented woman.

“Does your gladiator fear nothing?” you ask of your godfather, never taking your eyes off the man in question.

“Katsuki is fear!” Enji says. “See how the Champion of Capua quivers before him!”

And how you quiver, too, now that you can share in your godfather’s mirth, for he spoke the truth. Not but minutes after his declaration, the once champion’s head rolls upon the sands, his body dropping to the ground. You cannot suppress the smile that blooms upon your face as Katsuki’s name echoes through the air, a steady throb trembling throughout the amphitheater, not so different from the one forming between your thighs.

Once back at the villa, Enji takes both you and his wife under each arm. “A celebration is in order!” he announces, pulling you two tightly towards him. “The House of Todoroki will be on every tongue in Capua!”

You smile at your godfather’s rejoicing. A celebration was in order, indeed. Katsuki’s victory in the arena has turned the incessant fire within you into an inferno, one that will not be easily quenched nor sated. The flames lick at your flesh, heating your body with a sultry sheen, so much that you fear your godfather would feel the warmth radiating from your skin.

“Truly this has been a most joyous day,” you reply, moving from Enji’s side, “but I believe it is time for me to retire for the evening. The hour grows late, and I am weary from such blessed excitement.”

“May you have peace in this night of celebration!” Enji’s wife, Kaina says. “Surely the men in the ludus are commemorating their house’s victory tonight as well. I pray the noise does not resonate too loudly in your chambers.”

You give the woman a courteous smile. “A discomfort born free from grievance. The Champion of Capua must be honored, on this, a most splendid day.”

“And what of our champion?” Enji contemplates, to your pleasure. A plan has already been set into motion, one now being carried out so easily without much prodding on your part. “Surely he should be properly rewarded for his showing in the arena,” he continues.

“All the wine he could ask for,” Kaina replies. “I’m sure the others will see that his glass stays overflowing.”

“And women!” Enji says, then turns to his body slave. “See that his bed is overflowing as well!”

You pause to feign thought for a moment before speaking once more. “I could send my slave, Hiroko, to pleasure your champion. Surely a tribute such as she would be most welcome, yet untouched as she is.”

“A generous offer,” Enji declares, clearly approving of your idea, eager to start partaking in his own celebration. “I will send someone to prepare your slave immediately.”

“Oh! There will be no need,” you say, glancing at Hiroko. The girl’s expression is veiled, but you know that you will be chided once in the privacy of your own quarters. You are in no mood for a lecture, but you know that the outcome will be well worth it. You turn back to your godfather, attempting to conceal your excitement. “I will see to Hiroko’s preparations.”

“Do you think this wise?”

You turn and consider your companion. “And of what do you speak?” you ask with mock curiosity. 

Hiroko scowls at you, and in turn, you can’t keep the smile from your face. You begin to remove your jewels as you wait for her to answer.

“You think me so dense I cannot see through your schemes?” Hiroko asks you. “I am quite aware you won’t be sending me to the gladiator this night. You plan to go in my stead.”

You laugh, quirking a brow. “You do know me so well.”

And, truly, she does. She knows you better than anyone else, and though you are younger than her, you have known no one longer. And though she is, strictly speaking, your slave, you have a deeper connection with no one else. You two share a similar visage, as well. Lips akin to one another, eyes both of identical shape but of a slightly different color, both beautiful in your own right and similar to those who regard you two only in passing. Some people remark on how she favors you, while most stay silent, all obviously aware of your father’s indiscretion.

But to you, Hiroko is your closest companion. Your slave only by birth and custom. You know your only difference is your mothers’ stations, and for a purpose unknown, the gods have seen it fit to bless you with a proper Roman birth. Hiroko was your sister regardless, and were it that your roles were switched, you know that she would treat you similarly.

“You worry for nothing,” you reassure her, but Hiroko merely shakes her head and begins to assist in undressing you. You give her nose a soft kiss. “Do not be so sullen.”

Hiroko throws her hands up with a sigh and moves away from you. “We could be caught,” she tries to explain, but her concern falls on deaf ears.

You groan in irritation as you remove your clothes and launch the bundled fabric at her. “If someone comes, merely feign sleep. ‘Tis a simple task, carried out time and time over.”

“And what of you?” she asks, walking the clothes to the closet. “You could be hurt! He is a gladiator! He put a man to grass today!”

“And how I trembled as he did!” you reply, smiling at Hiroko through your vanity mirror’s reflection as you take your hair down from your plaits. You cock a brow at her agitated expression. “Would you deny me my one desire?” you continue, pouting.

“Your one desire?” she asks, incredulous. “Never have you desired only one thing. You are a greedy girl and the gladiator will quench your thirst for now, but then eyes will be set upon new conquest. When you have your fill you will leave him as you do all things.”

“No,” you respond, appalled. “No, never. If he were mine, I would never see him from my arms.” Your eyes twinkle with mischief as you smirk. “Or my cunt.”

“The mouth on you!” Hiroko gasps. “Just because you seek to lay with a savage doesn’t mean that you have to behave as such.”

You gasp in displeasure. “Katsuki is no savage!”

“And you know this how?” she asks and you feel your cheeks heating at the words yet unspoken, knowing how they will sound in the ears of your companion. Your thoughts will seem naïve, childlike, but they are so heavy on your tongue that you must speak them anyway.

“His eyes,” you say. “The depths in which are more burning, more crimson, than any flame I’ve ever seen. How I long to gaze into them as he touches me, his war-hardened hands gripping my flesh. His voice, deep and low in my ear.”

“You talk as if in love!” Hiroko says, clucking.

“Nearly so,” you reply.

“You have yet to even share words with the man,” she says, “and now you make declarations of love.”

You don’t respond, not quite knowing what to say, so Hiroko leaves you to disappear into her adjoining room and the returns with a handful of folded clothes. 

“Will this suffice?” she asks, unfolding the stola and holding it up for you to see.

It is something Hiroko has not worn in ages, too small and too short, but perfect for you and your purpose. You drape the fabric over one shoulder and wrap it around your waist, letting it fall high on your thighs. You cinch it with a belt of woven gold thread and tassels, then slide your feet into Hiroko’s sandals.

“Come,” she beckons and then she dabs scented oil onto your skin where Katsuki might linger – behind your ears, in the hollow of your throat, the valley between your breasts. She removes the gold collar from her own neck and places it around yours.

“Should I mark your skin as well?” she asks sarcastically, eyeing your ankle. Hiroko’s bares your family’s mark, permanently tattooed to signal her as a slave.

“That seems a bit unnecessary,” you reply, smirking at your companion. “The marks he will leave on my body will be well worn.”

Hiroko rolls her eyes as you smooth down the fabric around your thighs. You admire yourself in the mirror as you speak. 

“In any case,” you say, “I am more than capable of taking care of myself. You of all people should know.”

Before she can respond, you turn around so that your companion may gaze upon your completed appearance. “Do I look a slave?” you ask.

“No,” she says. “You look a Roman in slave’s clothing. As always.”

You smile. “For tonight, it will do.”

i. Pablo Neruda, "Every Day You Play..."

a/n :: I’ve been trying to write this for literal years and I think I’ve found the motivation. But, if you’ve read something similar to this chapter before, no you haven’t :)

Also, I have big plans for this fic, so if you’d like to see more, please let me know!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #bakugou imagine #mdni

[hiramaris]

Dusk til Dawn

Part 10

Summary: Following Episode 9. And spoilers for Episode 10. 

Author’s note: As Episode 10 is just released I just want to say heads up for those who are not yet finished. Completing the game without spoilers really made a difference, and as much as possible I want everyone to experience that. And for those finished, I’ll gladly welcome you to my domain where MC took a different route.

Disclaimer:  I do not own Duskwood or any of the related characters. Duskwood is created by and owned by Everbyte Studio. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Duskwood story belong to Everbyte Studio.

Warning: Mentions of blood, suicide, violence, pedophiles, drugs, gun, murder, sex offenders, kidnapping

Gif not mine (please kindly inform me if anyone of you knew)

Y/n's really leaving.

It's the mantra that kept playing over Jessy's head like a broken record player.

As Jake dropped the call, you hadn't had the chance to spare them any more glances as you prepared your things. You had inspect the gun you have with you along with its ammunition multiple times already. You even took out a hunting knife and place it in a holster wrapped around the side of your leg.

She shivered at the thought you even had to use them.

When you confessed about your true self, what she said was true. Nothing had changed about what she thought of you. You're still Y/n, the one she had grown to care and love.

Yes, love. She knew love is such a deep word to use when she had only met you not too long ago. She believed before that finding love online is futile, and it was difficult to establish trust with some strangers she met online. Her boyfriend was able to cheat on her after years of being physically together, what more can someone from miles away where they'll be away from her sight and touch?

But when you came, all these doubts seemed to wash away. The fact you made her feel safer more than anyone else just by merely being on a phone with her, making her feel special just by asking her on a virtual date, making sure she's okay and the occasional sleep calls with you, none of the people she had dated made her feel the same way you do and you weren't even here physically.

There's no room for doubt anyway. Not when you had risked your life for this group many times already.

Now as she watch your back, ready to risk your life for the last time, she realized that you really are determined to go.

And she didn't have the heart to stop you.

She wanted Hannah and Richy back. She really does. But at the expense of you? That's something she finds hard to accept. She knew you were fully capable, but that doesn't do anything to ease her worries.

What if you get hurt?

What if you don't come back?

The mere thought clenches her heart so painfully that breathing felt like a chore now.

"Guys, please don't give me that look."

The cabin was so silent that the request that left your lips seemed louder than ever.

****

The next few minutes of preparation were a lot of crying on the girls and Thomas' end. Dan, well, his tipsy ass kept passing you drinks (that Lilly always takes away from you). You assumed that's his way to say 'Be careful.'

You appreciate what he's doing though. You didn't want to leave them feeling like this. Like they just sent you to your death and they can't do anything about it.

After leaving everyone's safety to Dan, you decided it's time to go.

You were surprised when Jessy volunteered to walk you to the porch. You assumed she wanted to say goodbye properly.

The porch was bathed in moonlight when you stepped outside, casting long shadows on the wooden planks. You turned to her, her red hair illuminated by the soft glow.

"Jess," you began. "I'm sor—"

"Don't," she sniffed, stopping you from your statement. "I'm sorry I'm making it hard for you to leave. F-for... for being selfish." Her voice cracked. "I just... it's dangerous and I— God. I just didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry..."

You couldn't help but wrap her in your arms. You held her close, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You've got nothing to apologize for, baby."

"There's a lot. And a lot to thank for, too," she breathed, leaning into your embrace for dear life. "And I'd like to tell all of them to you once you come back."

"You mean..." Your eyes widened at her implications.

"Yeah... I'm letting you go." The way she lets out those words seemed like it's physically hurting her. She lets out a watery laugh, "and It's not like my opinion matters this time."

You couldn't believe what you are hearing. You leaned back to her embrace, hands carefully gripping her by the shoulder. Puffy, tear-filled eyes met your own.

But they are not begging you to not go this time, but begging you to come back.

"It matters." You reached out and gently cupped her cheek, your thumb brushing against her skin, eager to make your point across. "It sounds so screwed up and yet," you paused, your eyes boring into her own with great intensity. "you can tell me to stay, and I will."

Whatever may happen tonight is a huge gamble to play.

Lose and you will lose everything.

Win.

That's all there is to it.

Fight and win.

You can't afford to lose. Not now.

"No... No, Y/n." She shook her head gently, her touch on your hands warm and comforting. "We both know that's not who you are."

"Jessy..." Your eyes softened drastically.

"Save Hannah and Richy, okay?" She took hold of your hands on her cheeks, her voice quivering but determined. Despite the tears running down her cheeks, there was a fierce resolve in her expression. "If there's anyone who could do it, it would be you, Y/n/n."

Her words hit you deep, like a surge of energy coursing through your veins. She had an unwavering belief in you, and it only made you more determined to succeed. The lump in your throat grew, and you didn’t trust your own voice enough to speak without breaking. And so, you did the only thing you thought would convey your emotions best at that moment.

Leaning in, you brushed your lips against hers in a tender kiss. It was a mixture of longing and reassurance, a promise that you'd come back to her. There was a softness in the way your lips met, a silent exchange of emotions that words could never fully capture. When you finally pulled away, her eyes were teary but determined.

She tasted like salt from her tears, the faint sweetness of strawberries, and the familiar comfort of home.

"I love you," she whispered as you both separated, her breath warm against your lips. Your eyes widened at her confession, a mix of surprise and joy filling your chest. "Don't," she breathed, eyes still closed. "I'll wait for you to say it back once you come back. I just want to say it."

"You're no fair, Miss Hawkins." A watery laugh escapes you, and you couldn’t resist the pull any longer. You leaned in, capturing her lips in another tender kiss.

"Just want to make sure, Agent," she replied, her voice holding a hint of teasing. "Now go, save our friends, and come back to me."

It looks like you have to speed up the process because waiting for days to say it back is going to kill you, you’re sure.

Despite everything, despite the danger that lay ahead, you found yourself smiling.

You were still under the same sky, and somehow, that thought gave you comfort.

Everything’s going to be okay.

****

"Any updates on Michael's whereabouts?"

These were Jake's first words to you as he entered the car. You didn't have to look to know it was him. The same monotonous voice can be recognized from miles away. The heavy door of the car clicked shut, sealing the two of you in the confined space.

Oh, and of course. How could you forget? The guy loves his comfy hoodie so much, his mask, and his favorite beanie that his mom personally crocheted for his birthday. Even in these circumstances, he still clung to his attire like a security blanket.

"None so far," you settled on as a reply.

You started the engine once again and sped past the mini stop you and Jake agreed upon on. It was a little far from the cabin but it was relatively closer to Jake's hotel.

Tonight was cold and you wouldn't really blame Jake for his chosen clothing. However, this type of cold is something a warm coffee couldn't handle. It was the type where it send chills down your spine, you felt a sense of impending doom, not for you but for Hannah and Richy. Time is against you two and you know from experience that time is an opponent you cannot win against.

"You know you really don't have to do this."

"I have to. It is the best option we have. You have put yourself in danger for long enough. Listening to Michael's demand would be suicide. That is why I cannot allow you to go alone, but at the same time, I cannot allow Hannah and Richy to be in danger. They are both in the Ironsplinter Mine. I can almost pinpoint their exact location. I cannot say how long this will be the case." Jake's voice remained steady, his tone unemotional, though his words conveyed a sense of urgency and conviction.

"I didn't know you'd be this talkative personally," you chuckled. "But in all seriousness, I am glad to be doing this 'kamikaze' mission as Dan would like to say, with you."

"Indeed, we've come a long way, haven't we?"

"Yes, we have, Jake. Yes, we have."

The car ride continued in a comfortable silence. There was an understanding between you and Jake that didn't require many words. It felt weird but right in some way, like two puzzle pieces that somehow fit together despite being from entirely different sets.

Both of you are polar opposites. An investigator and a criminal. Who would have thought both would remain seated in a confined space and talk about the most random things.

If someone would tell you you'd be partnering up with a hacker and probably one of the most wanted criminals in this part of Europe, you'd probably give that person a glare of a lifetime, yet here you are with Jake.

Indeed, you'd come a long way.

****

"Y/n," Jake began after minutes of comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" You turn to look at him briefly, careful to not let your eyes stray for too long away from the road. You wouldn't want to have a repeat of Hannah and Amy's mistakes. The forest was dense, and the road was illuminated only sporadically by dim streetlights. With its numerous twists and turns, you couldn't afford any distractions.

"I wish to ask one last favor of you." He continued as he typed away on his laptop. The hum of the car's engine and the occasional tapping of his keyboard filled the space between his words.

"Sure, what do you want me to do?"

"I would like to ask you to tell Michael that you are on your way to the Grimrock." He looked up at you, his gaze steady and serious.

"Makes sense," you mused. Slowing down a touch, you pulled out your phone and started composing a message to Michael, ensuring to keep your driving steady at the same time.

You grinned at your own antics. You showed your phone to Jake, knowing he shares the same humor as you.

"Seriously?" He lets out a soft laugh, the subtle crinkles around his eyes giving away his amusement. "This should not be a laughing matter, however, I find it really funny."

You snorted, unable to suppress your chuckle. "I just can't miss the opportunity."

****

"I don't get it, you know?" You mumbled aloud, the words escaping your thoughts unintentionally. It felt like you needed to voice your confusion, even if just to the air in the car.

"Hmm?" Jake turned to you with a quizzical look, his attention fully on you now.

"Thomas is right." You muttered after a beat or two, your gaze fixed on the road ahead as the car continued its journey. The cave on the outskirts of Moonvale was getting closer with each passing mile. "I am literally the highest-ranking criminal investigator in the region. I don't get why you're all so protective of me. I am fully capable of subduing someone like Michael. I've been trained for it for years." You voiced your thoughts with a hint of frustration in your tone. "I'm just not used to it," you exhaled sharply, your breath carrying a mixture of resignation and confusion.

"Jessica cares for you," Jake responded slowly, each word carrying weight as if he was carefully considering the impact. "You can be Superman, and be all invincible and she'll still be worrying about you. You cannot take that away from her. The same goes for everyone. They have grown to care for you."

"But what about Hannah and Richy?" you countered.

He didn't respond immediately, his fingers still dancing across the keyboard.

"Just because they don't want you to go doesn't mean they don't care about them. It just means they don't want you to go, however, it wasn't really their choice to make as the situation still demands you to go. It's not really a matter of choice of who is more important than who, and who is more capable than who." Jake's gaze met yours, his expression serious. "Remember your question back then, when Jessy was attacked and you were ready to fly here?"

"How far is too far when it comes to saving a life?"

"Precisely. Life is life, Y/n. No one will be greater than the other. We do not want you to put yourself in danger just because you have the capacity to do so."

"And you're allowed to do the same thing?" You scoffed. You know Jake's response was logical, but it didn't quite quell your frustration. "Why can't the same rules apply to both of us? I have seen that they are mostly relieved to be knowing it will be you who will go rather than me. And I saw their distress when I decided to come along, too, Jake."

You wanted to say it's unfair because it is.

"Y/n, you cannot blame them."

"I am not. It's just not fair." There you said it.

"You have formed a bond with them. A genuine one, it will only be natural for them to be more worried about you." He tried to explain. "I have threatened them and invaded their privacy on multiple occasions. That's why I do not expect them to warm up to me the way they have to you."

You wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy. If they have known you have access to their private data as well, would they have thought of you the same?

You don't even want to know.

You sighed. You're also being unfair to them, thinking about them like this. They have accepted you for who you are, and you having access to their private account seemed to be shallow compared to what you have done, and yet they turned a blind eye to them.

This is some fucked up shit, really.

"But what about me?" You spoke softly, almost to yourself. "You have formed a genuine bond with me. So, my opinion for you not to go doesn't matter?"

"It meant the world to me, Y/n. That you cared for me. But I have already made the decision to protect you at any cost." He said softly. "I have been on the run for four years. One event changed my whole life completely. I lost everything in a single night. My home, my identity. Every single person in my life, Y/n. There was nobody I could trust even though I did not want to."

"I am sorry to hear that." You let out a sigh. "I just didn't want you to think that no one cares about you."

"There is no need to be sorry," he replied, ruffling your hair, which earned a playful groan from you. "I knew what I was getting into. I made that decision."

"But that doesn't mean it's not hard."

"You do not have to sacrifice your life and career for me. I am already used to running away. I also knew you wanted a life here, with Jessica, and the others. I will not take that away from you."

You smiled sadly. Yes, you do want that.

But will the situation permit you? You're not entirely sure.

"Don't you ever have the desire to stay here with Lilly and Hannah?" You questioned back. "And live a normal life?"

"Of course, I do." He answered, eyes growing a bit distant. "However, I know it will be impossible."

"Can you maybe stop predicting things, Jake?"

"You and I both know how this will all end."

"Do we?" You challenged, a small smirk creeping into your features. "Maybe we should start trying for a few alternatives."

"What do you mean?"

****

"Well, here we are," you announced as you parked the car. The headlights illuminated the end of the road, revealing the entrance to the cave. It wasn't exactly a picturesque spot, with a glaring red "No Trespassing!" sign catching your attention. "Looks like it's pretty isolated."

Jake stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him, and took in the surroundings. The air was heavy with anticipation, and the looming darkness of the cave entrance only added to the eerie atmosphere. "Seems like no one's really allowed around here," he observed.

"Hmm, so I guess we don't have any choice. We're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way," you said, stretching your fingers and rolling your shoulders to relieve some of the tension from the long drive.

"By old-fashioned, you mean breaking and entering?" Jake quirked an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you grinned. "Cleo would be so proud of us."

A soft chuckle escaped Jake. "She does have a reputation for breaking in."

"Shall we contact the others?"

"Yes, that would be ideal," Jake agreed, his expression serious as he retrieved his phone.

****

"Hello?" you greeted everyone, your voice carrying through the phone's speaker.

From the other end of the call, a collective sigh of relief seemed to escape.

"Oh my goodness, there you are!" Lilly exclaimed.

"You've been gone for ages," Jessy added, her voice tinged with concern.

"They were only gone for a little over an hour, Jessy," Dan interjected. "Hey there, Sherlock and Hackerman. How's it going?"

"Oh shush it, Dan. One hour is long enough." Jessy shot back with a playful roll of her eyes. "How are things going, you two?"

"We have reached the Ironsplinter mine," Jake told them.

"Yeah, see this big opening with these do not cross tapes all over it?" You explained, turning your phone's camera to capture the scene. The cave's opening was imposing, shrouded in darkness and warning signs. "That's the entrance. We're going to have to cut through the tapes and climb our way through to enter."

"Yeah," Cleo's voice came through the phone. "So, technically no one should be allowed inside?"

"Exactly," you replied, a playful grin in your voice. "I can now see why you like breaking in."

A burst of laughter echoed on the other end of the call, most notably from Dan. "Good one."

"Seriously, Y/n?" Cleo can only facepalm in exasperation. "I was afraid Dan has already corrupted you, and it was only a few hours since you arrived here."

"Hey! I'm not that bad."

"Anyway, there will be instances where we will be suddenly offline, but don't worry. The reception here is just really unreliable as you can imagine." You informed them.

"I thought as much," Thomas chimed in.

"Thanks for the heads up," Lilly added.

"We're lucky to even have any reception at all," Cleo remarked.

"Be careful, both of you," Jessy's voice held genuine concern.

"We'll keep you updated as soon as we can, okay?" You assured them before ending the call. Turning to Jake, you said, "Now, shall we head inside?"

****

In the dim light of your flashlights, you and Jake ventured into the cave's mouth. The air grew cold and heavy, laden with dampness that clung to their skin like a shroud. The walls seemed to close in, the jagged rock formations looming like the teeth of some ancient, evil creature.

"Comfy," you whistled as the interior of the cave unfolded before you. If the outside was already pitch black, then the inside is pretty much the epitome of darkness. Outside, at least there was the moonlight to help you make out your surroundings, but inside? If you hadn't brought flashlights, you'd likely be navigating blind. "Creepier than I imagined."

"Well, considering its history, it has all the right to be called creepy," Jake mentioned while examining his map. "During my research, I found out quite a bit about this mine."

"Sounds like you," you playfully nudged him.

"I wanted to be prepared, just like you," he scoffed. "I'll handle the tech stuff, while you do your agent thing."

"Jake, I'm everything but prepared." You sighed as you navigated the uneven terrain, moving with cautious grace. Your steps echoing softly. The cave's floor was uneven, a mosaic of rocks and pebbles. Occasionally, you would need to clamber over a protruding rock or duck beneath a low-hanging stalactite. "I just want to get them both back," You added after a while.

"Since when did Dolos come unprepared?" he remarked, his flashlight tracing patterns on the cave's wall.

"Guess there's a first time for everything," you conceded with a shrug. The cave's darkness seemed to breathe, and an unnerving ambiance hung in the air.

"Dolos... the spirit of trickery, a master at cunning deception, craftiness, and treachery," he mused. The glow of the flashlights danced along the tunnel's walls as you both continued deeper into the cave. "I can see why you chose that alias. It has quite fit you apparently."

"I'm not sure if I'll take that as a compliment." You raised an eyebrow. Did he just call you a liar? Just in a metaphoric way?

"It is a compliment," he affirmed as he led you to a tunnel on the right. The narrow passage led you deeper into the heart of the cave, each step echoing softly against the rocky walls. "I was fascinated by you from the start. It's no secret that I have access to all private and public information of this group. But I do not have access to yours." He paused, his tone contemplative. "And I know you only let me access your phone because it's a dummy phone that only has your private messages with them, nothing else." He continued, his footsteps echoing faintly. "You know the basic tricks in hacking, and there are also instances where you've demonstrated advanced techniques. Things that a normal citizen wouldn't have knowledge of."

"I am a covert agent for a reason," you replied, your voice steady in the echoing tunnel. "As a master in psychology, it is easy for me to deceive my targets, which is a vital tool in becoming an undercover agent."

"What I am saying, Y/n is that you're the only one capable to subdue Michael." He paused for emphasis before continuing. "Play with his brain the way Dolos would."

"Roger that." You smirked. "Though it surprises me you'd known about Dolos a lot already."

"Maybe Dan is not the only biggest fan of yours."

****

"I must say, it's quite smart of him to use this mine to hide Hannah and Richy," Jake commented as you both treaded cautiously through the depths of the cave.

"Because it's so extensive," you nodded, the beam of your flashlight cutting through the darkness.

"Correct," Jake affirmed. "The Ironsplinter Mine has a total length of more than 60 miles. The main entrance in Terrendale has turned into a museum, with a part of the tunnels accessible to visitors." He gestured at different parts of the map. "However, most of the tunnels beyond that point are blocked off and in danger of collapsing. I'd estimate that Michael has about 30 miles of tunnels at his disposal."

"A perfect place to hide," you agreed, a thoughtful expression on your face. Then, a realization struck you. "Jake, what if he's been hiding here from the beginning?"

"Then we must assume that he knows his way around quite well," Jake said through gritted teeth. The tension in the air grew as you both continued your journey, maintaining a brisk pace while staying alert.

Your eyes scanned the surroundings, your hand never straying far from your weapon. Being ambushed by Michael Hanson was not a situation you wanted to find yourself in.

Suddenly, Jake came to a halt, his flashlight revealing a hole in the ground with a ladder leading down. "Looks like a shaft," you commented.

"Indeed," Jake replied.

"Let me just update the group."

With your phone safely secured in your pocket, you turned your full attention to Jake. "Anything else I should know before we head down? It felt like you deliberately left something out when talking to the others."

"It's kind of unsettling how you can pick up on that," Jake sighed. "According to my research, the ladders in this shaft go down for about 200 feet. In case any of the ladders are damaged or missing—"

"Hmm we're fucked, right?"

"I was going to say our plan will fail but I guess it's the same thing."

****

Upon midway in descending the ladder, your phone began to vibrate incessantly in your back pocket. The unexpected vibration caused you to falter for a moment, your grip on the ladder tightening instinctively to prevent any accidents.

Once your feet were firmly on the ground, you retrieved your phone and checked the screen. It was flooded with notifications, indicating that you and Jake had been exploring the mine for a longer period than you had realized.

"We have to be thankful that the ladder was relatively stable," Jake mentioned, his gaze fixed on the map in his hands once again. "However, they have been exposed to constant moisture for years and are quite rusty."

"I think we should seriously reconsider using them on the way back," you remarked, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of relying on rusty ladders above a 200-foot drop. "The last thing I want is plummeting straight into the abyss."

"Right, especially if there are four of us."

"Is there any other way out?" you inquired, your eyes scanning the intricate network of tunnels that surrounded you. Without a map on hand, getting lost in these winding passages seemed like a very real possibility.

"Yes, there is. However, they come with some extensive detours."

You sighed, a sense of fatigue settling in. "Oh, boy... this is going to be one hell of a night."

~~~~~

Previous

Next

A/N: Hello! First of all, I want to apologize for making this fanfiction under WIP for months. I have read your comments and everything and I want to thank you for spurring the author in me once again. School has been a pain in my ass and it has been a hassle juggling life and boosting my GPA along with some personal issues. To make it short, it had emotionally and mentally burned me out to the point I can't even write anything. Not to mention I was bombarded with paper works so I really have to force myself to vomit words just to survive the semester so yeah, I think that sums it up. My apologies again because I have to cut this part out upon reaching 4.5k because I feel like the whole part will be far too long and I wouldn't be able to put a breather between scenes. The next part will be uploaded soon after this, don't worry.

Question tho: what are your thoughts on my writing style? Because I feel like I'm stretching out the storyline more than it probably needs, adding details that might not be entirely essential. I want to hear what's on your mind.

#duskwood #duskwood mc #duskwood jessy #duskwood jessy x mc #duskwood jake #duskwood lilly #duskwood cleo #duskwood dan #duskwood richy #duskwood hannah #duskwood thomas #duskwood episode 10 #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fanfiction #mc x jessy #jessy x mc #jessica hawkins #jessy hawkins #dan anderson #duskwood phil #phil hawkins #hannah donfort #lilly donfort #richy rogers

[badassbutterfly1987]

For the hurt/comfort prompts: "I'm sorry"/"It's not your fault" for Holland and anyone you like? (Also my GOD! a shocking number of those prompts could apply to Holl during Beacon labor I was just scrolling like won't request this or this b/c they're likely to be writing that soonish :)

(post Beacon of Hope, Kell + Holland, canon typical Dane trauma)

They weren't exactly friends, even if they had interacted more over the past half a year. Repeated interaction bred a form of familiarity, after all. And, well, knowing about a secret baby gave them some kind of understanding.

Kell had known what White London was like. He had known how the throne passed from one ruler to the next. But he had also known Holland was confident and powerful and devoted to his king. He had stood by Vortalis as a peer and must have been assured in his strength to serve as knight while still being pregnant.

He didn't expect to walk in one day and find two new rulers in the throne room. He didn't expect to see Holland in the corner, silent and muted in a way he hadn't been at even his most reserved.

They had accepted the letter and promised a reply within the week without too much hassle. That was the only positive thing Kell could say about the Dane twins. He'd seen how Astrid especially had looked at him. If Holland hadn't stepped between them...

Throat tight and legs unsteady, he followed the other Antari out of the castle. Holland slowed his pace, allowing Kell to catch up, as they made their way through what might have once been a garden but was now only full of unsettling statues.

Kell glanced at the older man, wishing he could tell what he was thinking. Holland was still a closed book. Kell had too many questions buzzing in his head, too many he was afraid to get answers to.

"What happened?" The question burst out of him. A half question, too lacking to encompass all the unkowns.

What happend to Vortalis? Why haven't you killed the Danes or just left? What happened to the baby? The possibilities were sickening.

Holland gave him an irritated glance but it rang false, barely hiding what he really felt. "Don't play the fool, you know better than that. "

Still Holland, not like the guards with empty gazes, but a lesser version of the way he had been. Too tired to perfectly pretend.

Kell could guess what happened, could guess the pain he was in. He didn't know how or why or what he could do to fix it.

"I'm sorry." It sounded small and pathetic, an apology that changed nothing and gave only empty comfort.

"It's not your fault," Holland dismissed. "This is how the game pieces fell, nothing to be done to change what happened. Most rulers don't last more than two years."

Most White London rulers didn't have an Antari at their beck and call. Vortalis had seemed cold by Arnesian standards but certainly not monstrous; Kell had only needed a couple minutes to see that Astrid and Athos Dane were a different level of dangerous entirely.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Holland stiffened, turning on his heel, hand flashing out to tightly grip his arm. "You will not interfere. If you want to help, then play the messenger boy and nothing more. Don't fool yourself into thinking you can affect my cage when you are unable to leave even your own."

"I'm not..." Kell faltered. But he was caged, wasn't he? A gilded one certainly, but still a cage. A prince in name only, always a servant of the crown. But minor compared to whatever trap Holland had been dragged into. "I just can't stand here and do nothing!"

"Don't be foolish." Voice still harsh but his grip softened. "I don't wish to have your blood on my hands as well."

Kell's hands twitched at his side, wanting to reach out, to offer something. But Holland was already turning away, leaving him to stand in the stone garden alone and utterly useless.

#ask answered #shades of magic #drabble #ficlet #holland vosijk #kell maresh #beacon of hope #ended up more hurt than comfort #blame canon

[brooklynislandgirl]

15 FMK: Brian/Riley/Eddie Vedder

Three of a Kind || Accepting {{tagging @therealgamble for reasons.}}

Beth laughs when Tabby asks her question, and is momentarily grateful that she wasn't sipping her coffee just then. It's a great variation to the usual party game, and it takes a moment for her to actually come up with a concrete answer. "So I dunno if you evah realise but elevator at my building is always hamajang. Never really works right, an' so I been stuck in it wi' Andy before. An' mebbe dat's cheating but at least I know we could get t'rough it, even if he talks stink an' makes me cry. Plus I nevah wan people see us fight in public." A sip of coffee and she examines the other two options. "Brian is da one I would spend ten hours trap in a cave wi'd. Former Army Ranger, calm head in tough situation, plus whole SWAT trainin'. We probably nevah stay whole ten hours because he'd have figure out how to get us out sooner. An' if we did have to stay, bet he's got a million stories I nevah hear before dat he could tell me t' pass da time." Final answer brings a glowing blush to her face. "An' dat leaves Eddie an' da sea. Now I know for a fact dat Eddie has experience bein' on a boat, an' havin' been swept off one while he was in Hawai'i. He respects an' loves da ocean. He knows how t' surf. He's got a beautiful voice, a poetic heart, an' a wonderful mind. Plus, if God loves me as much as Andy an' Faddah Vinnie say He does? Den Eddie will have to take his shirt off at some point." Clearly Beth has her favourites. And she lifts her hands, waving away the embarrassment of having admitted that to someone. "Your turn: binge watch an' entire season of a show in one day wi'd, go to karaoke bar wi'd, go to yoga class wi'd.... Andy, Brian, Luka."

#Mahalo!Tabs <3 <3 <3 #One Says She's a Friend of Mine|Tabby Mitchell #There Are Seven Stars|Tabby and Beth

[transautisticmikewheeler]

Title: lost

Rating: general audience

Relationships: mike/will, mike & lucas, will & lucas

Additional tags: islands, resorts, minific, plotless, mike only wears jeans psa, fluff, getting lost

Notes: for the "island" prompt in the stranger things writers guild discord, posting on work break

He squints up at the almost clear sky, trying to gauge how long it’d be before the sun went down. Behind him, he can hear the rustling of paper and two voices talking quietly of nothing important. Letting out a sigh, Mike steps away, letting his hand fall from his eyes as he turns to face Will and Lucas, both fretting over the map they’d been given.

“I swear, if they really wanted people here, they’d make it easier to find your way around,” Lucas comments as Mike moves over to them, sneakers sinking into the sand until he reaches the wooden bridge-like contraption he didn’t really care to know the actual name of.

“Maybe they thrive from tourist confusion,” Mike finds himself throwing out there, shaking the sand off his shoes the best he can. “Can you leave if you don’t know how?”

Will glances up at him, a look of recognition bleeding into his already annoyed expression. “Still…”

Will falls back with Mike as Lucas moves forward, attempting yet another try at finding the building they were looking for. Mike sneaks his hand into Will’s squeezing gently. The breeze is cool, but it doesn’t help much with the heat, all of them in t-shirts and shorts, sunscreen on their faces, bar Mike, who couldn’t wear anything but jeans to save his life and absolutely refused to wear shorts. He makes sure to complain about it, but the two usually counter by telling him to shut up and he “made his choice”. There are other people passing them on sidewalks, but not many, the island being pretty small.

Mike gently swings his and Will’s hands, eyes inspecting the swaying palm trees and overall pristine campus, a far cry from the landscape that Hawkins is. He still isn’t even sure why they decided to accept this trip; a break would be the obvious answer, but the others were still back home, enjoying their own break from the supernatural.

“Mike? You okay?”

“Huh?” Mike moves his head to look at Will, whose eyes move from him to the path in front of them, making sure they don’t run into anything. There’s something in his eyes that Mike struggles to place, but he’s enjoying the view too much to complain about much. “Oh, yeah. Just thinking that we should have stayed home, maybe.”

“Ah ha!”

They both look forward to see Lucas’ triumphant look as he gestures to the building they’ve been looking for for the past fifteen minutes; a restaurant, open-planned in seating with lights decorating the canopy, white, see-through fabric covering them and supported by wooden beams.

Mike grins. “Thank fucking God, I was about to lose my mind,” he says, relief covering his words.

“Do I hear a ‘thank you for getting us here, Lucas?’”

Will snorts, and Lucas glares playfully, gently shoving Will’s shoulder.

They watch the sunset from their table, conversation shifting from subject to subject before settling on what they were going to do after getting back home. Lucas proudly declares he’s going to drag everyone together for a game, a new one he’d been thinking about and planning, and Mike raises an eyebrow.

“You sure you remember how, Basketball Boy?”

“Are we sure you haven’t forgotten, Mr. I’ve-been-too-busy?” Lucas shoots back.

A beat of silence, and they burst into laughter.

“We actually should do that,” Mike smiles, referring to the game. “It’d be nice to feel normal again, and the basement has been missing something lately.”

He turns to Will, who’s looking fondly at both of them. “Yeah, I’ve missed playing with you guys.”

For their last last night on the island, they stay in their room, watching movies and ordering room service. The whole trip is nice, but Mike really can’t wait to go home.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #byler #lucas sinclair #my fics #fanfiction #bywheelclair friendship rocks #fluff fic #🔗

[cloudy-zephyr]

Bakugou x Shinsou + dadzawa

No cws, just fluff!! Some scenes of "oh god aizawa can't know" (but he does hehe)

Dad- aizawa

Papa- hizashi

- in hitoshi's dorm-

"Shut up, fucker. You're way too loud," Bakugou snorts in the dark room, a room he wasn't even *supposed* to be in so if his boyfriend wants him to *stay* then he better shut the fuck-

"But Kats,,, im cold as fuck and you won't get closer," said boyfriend pouts and attempts to scooch over on the bed.

"No, it's too hot just lay down oh my god," he rolls his eyes, "you're gonna get us caught and in trouble."

"No im not! If you cuddled with me we wouldn't even be here and-!" His ramble is cut off by a knock on the door. Shit.

"Hitoshi?? You okay?" It's aizawas voice.

Aizawa is Hitoshis dad and doesn't know he and bakugou are together,, much less *together* past curfew.

"Yeah!! Just talking to myself about this uh show I have on!!" Hitoshi lies, hoping its enough to get his adoptive father to leave him alone.

"Okay, goodnight toshi"

"Yeah, goodnight,"

"Holy fuck, he's so stupid," bakugou scoffs but finally relents and holds Hitoshi close.

-at the aizawa-yamada residence-

"Hey, dad and papa?" Hitoshi stood in the kitchen one Saturday morning.

His dad hummed and glanced in his direction, prompting him to continue.

"Is it okay if Ka- ahem,, uh Bakugou comes over?" *great job, stupid you almost just told them.*

"Sure. Just don't be too much noise, we have to work from home and do paperwork and grade," papa says as he eats his toast.

"Thanks!" Hitoshi runs off to his room to text his boyfriend.

🐱💥 cat-suki

Mind freak 💤: you can come over :)

🐱💥: ok

💤: okaayyy??? Hurry tf up >:(

🐱💥: don't tell me what to fuckin do!

💤: oh stop whining

🐱💥: open your front door before I turn around and go home

💤: bitch you better not 😦😦😦

🐱💥: whore.

💤: damn. Omw

Hitoshi laughs and goes to open the door and let his boyfriend in, making sure his parents aren't in the room and give him a quick kiss.

"Cmon, got a new game the other day."

The couple heads up to Hitoshis room, Aizawa and Hizashi sharing a look after seeing their sons smile and his *friends* soft look.

- at school, specifically aizawas class-

The class is loud, per usual, but something has Kaminari especially wound up.

"Kaminari, would you like to share with the class or be quiet so I can continue the lesson?" Aizawa stood at the front of the room, looking incredibly bored and slightly irritated that Kaminari won't stop passing notes to his friends and giggling.

"I know a secret sir and it's eating away at me!" Kaminari yells, then slaps a hand over his mouth and looks over at bakugou.

If looks could kill, then fly high kaminari because Bakugou just killed him.

"Hmm, and is that secret more important than your education?"

Kaminari is practically vibrating in his seat, and opens his mouth, "Hitoshi is dating a loud blonde!" He yells, and immediately puts his head down.

Hitoshi looks mortified, and Bakugou is about to go in for the kill.

Aizawa just laughs, and everyone goes dead silent.

"Kaminari, you said you had a secret. A secret is something no one knows, and I think everyone knew my son and Bakugou are together. Now you can join me for lunch detention for yelling and disrupting the class. I suggest next time you blurt out someone's secret, tell me something I don't know."

Hitoshi is pretty sure he died of mortification, and bakugou even looks a little sheepish.

AAAHH i love shinbaku so much please 🤲 accept this offering shinbaku nation

#mha headcanons #bakugou #bnha #bnha aizawa #shinsou x bakugou #mha shinso hitoshi #🐱💥 bakugou 💥🐱 #💤 shinsou 💤 #🖤🐈 aizawa 🐈🖤

[sentofight]

Date wouldn't mind Hitomi wrapping her arm around his neck, and draw him down towards her. Lips meeting lips in something sweet, and mildly sinful.

Sigh, what a day. Aiba had decided to stay with Mizuki and Iris when they went to play this forge-whatever game. He wanted to hit the bed for a couple of hours before he returns back to work. Because he will go back to work, he didn't return to the Sagan's resident and opt to stay in his apartment. He ... didn't want to make that home a stop place. Even though he knows Hitomi wouldn't even think about it, the guilt eats him up for treating that warm home like a motel.

Geez, Mizuki ... she did turn up the place around since he said once she can add more of her flare to the place. At least, he got his couch untouched. Thanks, Zuki.

He dropped face first on the couch to catch some z's. God only knows how long he was passed out when he heard knocking on the door. "Gaah...! ... for the love of... just...sigh...fiine...I'm coming ..." pushing himself up, he rubbed the sleep off his face to see who was on the blasted door. "Aiba che--...right." she's not here to scan the door first.

"Yeah, yeah ..." he opened the door expecting a neighbor or dunno who because Mizuki got a key, and by default Iris is with Mizuki, but he didn't think that this one particular person would ever come here of all places. "Hi--" but before he could pronounce her name she was already in action. Her good arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him for a kiss. His good eye frantically, like the DVD logo, going up and down in confusion. What was just happening here? Hitomi? Here??

True his heart rate if Aiba was around would accurately tell that it shot off the roof, he might have a heart attack right this minute. He hadn't wrapped his arms around her for support due to the initial shock but now he register her presence in front of him.

"Hitomi, I..." he tried to mumble something against her lips which shortly she pulled away (GOD FUCKING KILL HIM, SHE IS BLUSHING!!! SHE IS BLUSHING!! HOW CAN HE NOT GET TURNED ON BY THAT LOOK ALONE, HUH!? THANK FUCKING GOD AIBA IS NOT AROUND TO RADIO OUT HIS THOUGHTS. though.. er, his face was an obvious tell when he was just staring at her dazed.)

"Uh ... it's ... you... want to come in?" he gulped. WHAT IS HE? A TEENAGER HAVING HIS GIRLFRIEND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS ROOM!? FFFFFFF!!!! Sure, he says this but his arms had already secured her waist closer to him. Even if she got cold feet and decided to leave, it was not a choice now he was holding her. Nice work reflexes! Nice work!

"I know you might be upset I, um didn't come to your home." which he earned an ear twist and told him to correct his sentence. "-Ow--Oww! What? I--ow okay what did I say wrong??" Aiba help, he forgot what he said!!!!

"Er, ... I ... don't know ... " so much for detective. She frowned and said again 'your home' with emphatize on the your. "Oh." he blurted out in a low voice like that what upset her???? but it's her home, no?

"AH!" fuck it, idiot!!! of course! OF COURSE! gawd, end him now. HER!? just her? ... but he said he'll be part of this ..home...now he returns to distant himself. In his defense it's ... hard. He does not want to return to who he was 12 years ago, believe him. He does not want to be alone, he does not want to live the day as it is and have no interest in tomorrow. He does not want to feel like he could disappear and no one will ..care.

" . . . Sorry ... I'm sorry," there is nothing else he can say. He always make promises and fate always have the last laugh. Nothing works for him, personal life wise. Perhaps the only good thing that worked out in the end without a hitch was having mizuki around and to his surprise she changed her surname to his. Otherwise, he feels like he himself push and pull the whole ...being with the Sagan. It's his fault, his responsibility but damn it brain! these blasted thoughts!!!

unprompted | accepting | @psychcdelica

#ic.| date #psychcdelica #psychcdelica.| hitomi #nobody: ... my brain: YEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!!!!!! #[LET'S ANGST THIS OUT BUT LIKE..IN A GOOD WAY....? NO? NO.

[glitchydyke]

hi hello mj!! if you may, please tell me about *glances at smudged writing on hand* adam faulkner-stanheight your special guy adam faulkner-stanheight!

he has Intrigued me..... i wish to study him under a microscope

DUSKIE. GRIPS YOU. DUSKIE DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOUVE JUST ASKED ME. DO YOU.

spoilers for saw ahead ofc

CHRIST OKAY SO ADAM IS. FUCKING EVERYTHING TO ME.

the plot of the first saw movie is that two guys, adam and lawrence, wake up chained to pipes on opposite ends of a decrepit bathroom, with no way to unlock themselves. they find tapes that tell them they’re part of a game; there’s a clock on the wall, and there are rules to follow. lawrence has to kill adam by six, or his wife and daughter will be killed. and adam? adam just has to survive.

BUT. SOME BACKSTORY

so adam is this guy who kind of fucking hates his life. he lives in a shitty apartment, he doesn’t talk to his family, his friends suck, he doesn’t have a steady job. he never finished high school, his dad is a piece of shit, he doesn’t have anything except himself. but he’s alive. he’s surviving. it’s whatever. and then one day he’s approached by a mysterious man and offered money to stalk someone. and he knows it’s wrong, but he needs to eat, to pay rent, to live, so he accepts.

and he starts to stalk doctor lawrence gordon, a surgeon who’s… kind of a dick. he doesn’t seem to care about anything, he ignores his wife and daughter, he’s a little too close with one of his medical students, and adam is disgusted and fascinated by him all at once.

he goes home. fights for his life against an attack he doesn’t see coming. passes out.

and wakes up underwater.

this is where we first see adam, gasping for breath as he sits up in a grimy bathtub, accidentally pulling the plug and losing his life down the drain. it’s dark and he’s cold and wet and he doesn’t know where he is or how he got there and he’s scared. and then there’s a voice in the darkness, the lights flicker on, and lawrence is staring back at him in confusion, and there’s a dead body in the middle of the floor.

they don’t trust each other at first. adam finds lawrence stuck up, and lawrence finds adam childish. but when you’re chained to a pipe with only one other person in your world, you tend to start talking to them. so when they realise they can’t just pull the chains apart, they get to talking. lawrence talks about his family. adam talks about his lack thereof. they bond. and they start to make progress - they find tapes explaining the game, and a phone hidden in the wall, which every so often rings with a message from lawrence’s captured family.

still, even with his family in danger, lawrence doesn’t kill adam. and the reason for this is because adam is good. he’s scrappy and obnoxious and more than a little arrogant, but he’s so fucking overwhelmingly good at heart. he’s kind and passionate and funny and god, he’s just been dealt the worst fucking cards. there’s so much inside of him. so much joy and energy and excitement and adventure that he’s never gotten to live.

eventually, the clock hits six. adam is alive. lawrence panics. and on a kick of adrenaline, he cuts his own foot off, crawls across the room, and shoots adam in the chest. but it’s not enough. the clock already hit six, lawrence failed his game, so someone comes to kill him and he’s staring into the face death and then adam saves him. the man he just shot saves him, still bleeding and sobbing and screaming, adam kills lawrence’s attacker and doesn’t stop until lawrence grabs him, pulling him down and cradling his face and holding him more softly than he’s ever been held before. they’re both broken and bleeding, and they clutch each other like lifelines. and then lawrence leaves. he turns around, crawls away with a shaky promise of bringing someone back, and adam is alone. he looks for a key. he doesn’t find one.

then the body in the middle of the room moves. the one thing that’s been constant in this game, the one thing adam thought he understood, suddenly shifts and changes. the blood is pulled away like a mask, and adam is told the key to his chain was in the bath with him all along, gone down the drain before he even knew where he was or what was happening. he lost his chance at survival before he even knew he was dying. he lost the final piece of the puzzle he didn’t even know he was solving.

and the movie ends with the lights going out and the bathroom door being locked, adam still chained to the pipe, screaming to be let go. screaming for help. screaming for safety.

days later, he’s killed. a plastic bag is pulled over his head as a mercy killing, and despite everything, despite the exhaustion and the fear and the trauma, he fights it, because he wants to fucking live. he always wanted to live. but he’s not strong enough, and he chokes and drowns in his own blood, and finally dies on the grimy bathroom floor as his killer cries their apologies.

ALRIGHT PLOT OVER. NOW MY EMOTIONS

christ, he’s… he’s such a fucking tragic character. do you understand me. he was never even a player in his game, he was only ever a pawn for lawrence’s development. adam was doomed from the second he woke up. he was never going to win. he was never going to be saved. he survived, he lived past six, he did what he was told he had to do, and he was left for dead because lawrence was the main character all along. but god, he was so young. he had so fucking much left to do. he had a passion for photography, for art. there was so much hope for him. he could have travelled, shared his work, created a life for himself, he could have been anything he wanted if he had just been given a chance. but he was pulled into this twisted world of torture and games and used to fix somebody else and then left for dead once he had done his job. he was forced to play a game that was never his to win. adam faulkner-stanheight never had anything and yet he lost everything anyway. how do you lose a life you never had? how do you lose a love you’ve never known? how do you hate your life and yet want to live it so fucking badly? how do you fight for survival despite knowing you have nothing to survive for? what do you do when the only person in your world is crawling away from you, and all you can do is cry out to him, “lawrence, we’ll be okay?” and he whispers back “i wouldn’t lie to you.” and yet three days later you’re sat there, cold and alone and without his touch, with your own blood drying on your hands. do you still believe him? do the words “i have to go get help. i’ll bring someone back. i promise.” echo in your head? do you still have something to hope for? do you still want to live?

years later, lawrence fulfils his promise. he brings someone back. it doesn’t help. but it’s a sick answer to adam’s screaming, isn’t it. a fucked up response to his cries. i’ll bring someone back. i promise. and then that promise was kept, for all the good it does. for everything it fails to save. lawrence comes back and adam never knows it. adam is finally loved, and he never fucking knows it.

(addition, if you want to understand adam and me and my insanity over him, these fucking lines from the original script are. literally everything to me. his familial issues, his academic issues… he’s exactly like me to a disturbing degree, and it drives me insane)

#HI DUSKIE. WELCOME TO ME POSTING ABT ADAM FAULKNER-STANHEIGHT AKA ME IN THE REAL. #asks #duskie 💗 #mj.thoughts

[m0e-ru]

sometimes it’s fun to like look over to see and try to write my mim because i write them, marie and izy to be a collective’s definition of “pretty” like, yes, the game’s new poster girl has to look good and get called pretty by everybody and get mistaken for the protagonist’s new girlfriend that the first supposed love interest (rise) would love to strangle her to death whenever she sees her right next to him. so by extension, would that mean that the other aspect of herself born from the same directive to “walk with man” be as attractive as herself? that the whole she once was was considered a beauty by the people because they wanted a nice looking woman to take care of them as per their vague collective idea of the figure of myth Izanami herself before she was burned to death by her son, a literal living flame?

where i joke around that the shopping district wouldn’t be in so much of an economic depression if the gas station attendant all the way at the south entrance would show his face once in a while to direct some foot traffic back into the district. that schoolgirls would go there after school just to look through the window and hope to see a pretty man than an old couple at the register. that housewives would make excuses to leave the house just to fawn over and share gossip with the young man doing oil checks on their sons' cars and push their children over and ask why can’t they be more like this guy. that boys and other young men would get jealous of the lady magnet at some wacko gas station in the middle of nowhere when these same people would fall to their knees at his natural charm and amiability, for his courtesy and humor that it’s so easy to be comfortable around him and fall in love with, even

but all that’s out there is just cicadas chirping and stray cats and dogs about. Crows on trashcans and a rumored fox on the loose. That the streets are quiet as the traffic flows normally at each end of the district, instead. That shutters adorn the shop fronts with signs and notices taped up front, its text and ink washed away from the rain and faded from the sunlight. The kind and soft spoken young man, now a humble old grandpa only sits next to his wife who was once an upbeat young woman with a toolbox, now an upbeat old grandma with an artificial hip; her toolbox kept in the breakroom. That is, if they’re not out and about enjoying the rest of the fresh Inaba air away from their own station. It’s self service, you see, the people will do just fine.

All that they know is of the handsome gray haired young man with a uniform, that they never really had manufactured themselves, has been helping out, where the two are leaving behind paychecks with small handmade snacks at the end of the day. The opening was taken quite quickly, despite the small and humble hand-written note they left on the bulletin board.

Not of the god that stands underneath their canopy with the paint peeling off, its lights in the sign that burst and those that don’t even turn on anymore, who watches the rain fall or the people pass by. Who spreads rumors and gossip, and asks questions and get no answers. That the lies they’ve said lingers in people’s minds better than the being made of mist held up by the desire to hide the truth.

That only a sad lonely man who experienced loss can sense a deeper loneliness in this one’s eyes. or is it the choice of solitude? That a boy growing up too fast wonders why this guy's eyes have a sort of artificial light under it. or is it the attendant work? That the man who believes he has nothing nor can achieve anything is so mad at why this idiot won’t reach out for the opportunities right in front of him? Why this man born with everything won’t accept anything? Let the beauty he’s born with take him places better than the nowheresville for mess-ups. Let him be fawned over, let people cheer his name, let his face be known everywhere, let him be loved by everyone.

But he wants to be forgotten, be called no name, his face never anywhere nor loved by anyone. That out of every single lie she can craft there, is no escaping the truth of who she was once before. That she detests the adoration for who she once was, the name she once had, the face she has now and the love she drives away. She would rather tear her face off and walk with nothing to be seen, only with a body made of mist that the light could pierce and dissipate. But then she could not accomplish her life’s duty.

There is no meaning in bonds, and she is here to do her job, the one she could not do once before, the reason why she was taken apart and polished once more to complete a duty that was once deemed unsatisfactory. And she will do it right this time. She knows what’s best for mankind.

Was it a matter of pride? envy? fear? She might have forgotten, or never really knew.

author’s translation note here also under cut because i'd figure i'd snip it here for now. sorry it got narrative anyway where was i

OKAY in my written canon i want izy, marie and mim to be like, really pretty. all the npcs would be like "wow that guy’s cute." that mim could try to walk up to a bargain bin to stop housewives from fighting, and these women would just be offering their children’s hands in marriage then fight over that instead yknow. that adachi would call them prettyboy all monotone because this idiot’s just a moron with no smarts. except i’m a bit embarrassed to talk about this since up i have to provide visualization and offer photographic evidence as an artist then i get disillusioned because i don’t have the skill for it but when i do get something right there’s just this huge huge wave of euphoria it is CRAZY !!! like I need YOU to like them and think they're pretty. but since I can't do that I just draw goofy :3 all the time as I succumb to my SKILLESSNESS!!

adachis mad at this guy since he’s so pretty and has this natural charm that could get anyone to like him and this boundless curiosity and enthusiasm for things could get him anywhere, but like——he’s not going anywhere!!! this guy could’ve been scouted as a model or what. or when he was in high school, he had a billion love letters in his shoe locker, or was taken to the back of the school so much that there was a line of girls with their own confessions before getting rejected ,probably. this man knows how to cook, darn socks, tie ties, and get limescale out of car windows that this poor bitchless detective wonders how he isn't married yet. even nanako said so. in fact, adachis’s the one being babied like there’s a mother with no son (this is part of the stupid social experiment too. sorry) . this employee just can’t stop helping people. attending to them. like that’s what he’s born to do. which is also quite literal as a god born from a collective that wanted someone to watch over them and keep them safe and born from a mother figure from a creation myth well known. anyway adachis mad because hes 1) bitchless 2) (adachi voice) "this guy is also bitchless but the opportunity to have bitches could be easy for him but hes not taking that chance when i didnt have the chance in the first place so this is a mockery against me and what i've been born with compared to him" <- bullshit analogy sorry for that. anyway /recites the 'magic ticket called talent' monologue and im pulled off stage with a shepherd's cane/

while these three take the attendant for a pretty normal guy, spending more time with him and connecting some dots makes him seem pretty messed up. Like, this guy only works at the gas station on rainy days and says shit like “i’m doing what’s best for my home” and like, are you doing community work when it’s not raining, or what? This guy has no other guys that come up to him when he’s working and doesn’t have a lot of plans after working either, like he could STILL keep working the night shift and see five nights at freddys and he’ll be fine probably.

That he only talks about Inaba and gossip and rumors and chismis but never about himself. Avoiding topics of his own family and just asking so much other questions. Does he have any other friends or anything? Which isn't his kid coworker, or the ex politician who takes detours to this station specifically to talk to one guy who doesn’t ostracize him for the affair, or the detective who feels like he has the responsibility to babysit a grown man who shouldn’t have gotten the job that involves using a gas pump when he didn’t know how to operate a gas pump? that, like, he doesn’t know shit in Junes but knows the rest of the place like the back of his hand . like. is this guy living in the past? was his upbringing so old fashioned that he doesn’t know how to shop in mall? or use a flip phone? he has a PAGER for shit. When he’s related to this one woman and he steers the conversation away and cover his face more with his hat, does he have mommy issues or something?

then there’s the issue that mim hates their past self so much that like. they wiped everyone’s memories of such a nice lady and made it as if she never existed and stuff. But there’s like old people who still kinda remember her and relate mim to her that they’d go crazy and go outside and uproot a tree probably and rip their own face off. like, out of everything they can change about themself, they still hold the face of who they once were and it makes them so irritated because THEY DONT LIKE WHO THEY WERE BEFORE !!!! if humans tore them apart and made a new god to do the same work, then the last person on the job did TERRIBLY !!! and mim HATES HER GUTS !!! and literally said "I CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT BITCH !!!!!" but then they reconnect with human culture and relate their situation to a mother and child kind of thing, letting them separate themself from their past on one degree(? tier? level?) and see the situation from there, and it gets pretttty wacky. Old people who kinda remember izy also relate marie to her somewhat. like your relatives at reunions when they say you look like your aunt but you can’t see the connection until you look at baby pictures in the family albums or something

#persona 4 spoilers #p4 #gsa sl au #sulululat #⛽️🌫 #long post #// talking about my au now whatever im balling. KAI MOERU SAYS 'LIKE' COUNTER: 100000000000000 #// sorry yeah this is just how my discord messages look like im so so sorry theyre a mess

[whatwouldvalerydo]

Summer break - part 1/3

What could possibly go wrong when Slytherin bitch Scarlett Tempest visits Phil Baker during the summer break? Well now you will have to read and find out. But just don't ask how her confused ass managed to end up with accepting an invitation 😂

Phil belongs to the amazing and sunny @samshogwarts

“Mom, I’m leaving.” entering her room, she looked at her mother who was still not done packing everything for their trip to the Maldives.

“Have fun with the girls.”

Cocking a brow, Scarlett shook her head securing her backpack properly “I told you that’s next week when you are on your trip. I’m going to Nottingham now.” Her mother rose her eyes, however she did not appear to remember what Scarlett has been telling her for over a week “The boy I mentioned?”

“Oh honey, you don’t need to lie to me in order to see the girls, you know I like them. Now, you know where the money is, you have your phone and credit card yes?” Scarlett only nodding “Keys?”

“Of course.” Hearing a scoff, she turned around looking at her half-brother who was leaning against the wall, listening in for God knew how long “What?”

“Now I know you are off to do something stupid since no guy would even look at you with that nasty ass attitude.”

“Language!” her mother shouted from the bedroom.

Looking at him up and down Scarlett frowned “That’s rich coming from mister I spend an hour in the shower.” Gesturing as if wanking off, her brother showed her the middle finger.

“Now, now you two, settle down. Are you really sure you don’t want to come with us on holiday?” shaking her head, Scarlett turned on her heels and was out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye to her step father.

The train ride was uneventful, her keeping busy with music and reading, arriving in the Nottingham train station at the agreed time. How she ended up agreeing was still a mystery. She was playing an online game with Phil, one he insisted on buying her since it would be fun. Somewhere between game tactics, him talking about an anime she could not even remember, she suddenly said yes to coming over to his place so they could both leave for a convention later on during the week. In retrospect, it was far better than spending time with her family, Maldives or not.

At the train station, Phil waited for her with a handmade sign with her name on it “I do know how you look like you know?”

“I know.” He answered lifting the sign slightly “But I wanted to make you feel welcomed.” Scarlett only nodding as she changed the subject quickly.

“So did you pass the Apparating test?”

“Yes, it went ok. You?”

“Aced it. So…are you going to take me to your place?”

As if he actually remembered why she was there, he rubbed the back of his head offering to carry her bag which she declined, Phil ending up talking about the convention they were going to go to so fast and with so many unknown terms, Scarlett could only just nod away, offering a smile once in a while at his enthusiastic schedule.

Opening the front door, he called out to his parents, both of them arriving in the hallway only to stand amazed as they looked at the pair “This is my friend, Scarlett.”

“Hello darling” his mother snapped out of her stupor first “lovely to meet you. Phil didn’t mention that you are a…”

“What? A girl? Born one actually.” She had something way more nasty to say, however she bit her tongue, smiling politely “Don’t worry, I told mom I was coming over and she didn’t believe me so we’re sort of in the same boat.”

His father was still blinking in surprise, eyes going from Scarlett, to Phil, to his wife, clearing his throat when Scarlett stared at him “Right, well welcome. Come on show the lass upstairs, she must be tired after her trip.”

“Energy drink?” Phil asked finally finding a way out of the awkward discussion. It wasn’t like he did not try to tell his parents that his friend was a girl but every time he wanted to bring it up, he went on a rambling spree about something else entirely because he was actually nervous. Not that his parents would not agree or anything, they were actually happy Phil was hanging out with friends.

Smirking, Scarlett looked his way “Is that even a question? Of course.”

Leading the way upstairs, he showed her to his room, Scarlett’s eyes going wide at the collection of action figures, manga and posters he had “Oh my fucking God. Ok.”

“You will sleep here, the bed is comfier. You can read any manga you want, or watch movies, or we can play. Oh slippers.” He quickly went to retrieve a pair of big fluffy slippers from under his bed “I bought you these so you would have a pair. I hope pink is ok, they only had pink, but I can give you mine, but they might be too big for you. And I have snacks, right, energy drink. I’ll be right back.”

Watching him leave, she chuckled staring at the slippers, ending up laughing as she stood there in the middle of his room, managing to calm down right before he came back, carrying in his arms what she believed was probably one of each item from the store in terms of snacks.

“We can order pizza too, anything you like. Or we can go out if you want to go out, I’ll go out with you.”

“First time having a girl over?” she teased as he finally discarded everything on the bed.

“Umm…I…” he stammered slightly before nodding “but it’s fine, because we’re friends.”

“Right.” Scarlett nodded trying to refrain from smiling “We can do whatever, it’s fine by me. As long as I don’t have to be at home all is good.” She added sitting down on the bed.

Looking at her, he wanted to ask if something happened with her parents, but knew very well she wouldn’t share anything that actually bothered her “Want to play a game, I got an extra controller.”

“Sure, let’s do that.”

Pulling the bean bag from a corner of the room, he invited her to sit down first, placing the controller in her hands. Also taking a seat a bit farther from her, when he placed his entire weight on it, Scarlett’s petite figure could not stand a chance as she practically leaped over to his side, almost bumping heads with him as their bodies collided “I bet this is one of your nerd fantasies isn’t it? Move.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He tried getting up, only to lose his balance as Scarlett pushed him, somehow both of them landing on the floor, the bean bag now empty, her glaring daggers at it as she ran a hand through her hair.

“Great.” Huffing, she glanced over at Phil “I take the chair, you can take the bean bag. Deal?”

“Deal.” He stated, getting up and offering him her hand. Hesitating initially, she finally took it, both settling down as they played a fighting game with some weird characters. Even if Scarlett was raised in a Muggle environment and knew technology, mostly being addicted to it, when it came to anime and games, while she did try a few, there were some gaps in her knowledge.

“How?” she turned to look at Phil “I almost had you.”

“I used the ultimate attack since my mana recharged.” Him offering her a proud grin “I can show you how to do it.”

A few failed attempts later, Scarlett finally relented “Alright, fine, show me.” Trying to replicate his moves, however his fingers appeared to press those buttons at inhumane speed “Really? Alright, move.” She shooed him further up the bean bag, getting between his legs “Come on, I’ll watch.” Phil stood there for a few moments, until Scarlett looked behind her shoulder, her famous glare enough to snap him out of his daze. Placing his hands on her lap, he replicated the moves, a lot slower this time.

Not even bothering to get up since she found a comfortable position, they continued playing, her trying to watch his controller and the screen. Glancing down at her hands, Phil removed his finger from the X, Scarlett finishing off his character.

A second later, she threw her hands up in the air, cheering “Ha! Finally. Did you see that?”

Smiling, he shrug his shoulders “Lucky shot, again.”

She didn’t need to know he let her win, that he could play any character with his eyes closed, having memorized the sequence to every fighting stance. She still cheered when she won, sometimes even getting up to do a victory dance, Phil laughing as he accepted his apparent defeat.

Hours passed, snacks being shared between them on the bed as they watched an anime he picked out, her not complaining, half paying attention as she watched it but also spent time on her phone. By the time they said goodnight the sun was already rising and they were exhausted.

At 12 Phil finally woke up, Scarlett an hour later, already showered, dressed and dolled up. His family greeted her, Phil’s mother asking her what she would like to eat “Oh no, I don’t eat. Just a coffee for me.”

“Aren’t you a bit too young for coffee?”

“Let her be, they are after all 17, practically adults in the Wizarding World.” Phil’s father chimed in, Scarlett thankful for the intervention.

Seeing the ingredients on the counter, Scarlett got up checking everything out “I can make the pancakes, you take a seat and drink your coffee.”

“Oh no, you’re a guest, I couldn’t possibly.”

“Oh I insist. That way Phil will have to take me Starbucks and I won’t have to watch another episode of Dungmon.”

“Digimon.” He corrected her “Can I help with anything?”

“Neah, you relax. I know you will talk my ears off later.” Turning back to the counter she started on the batter, Phil smiling as he looked at the table.

#scarlett tempest #phil baker #Hpma #harry potter magic awakened

[verraising]

Thinking about Myrri and her Chocobo and that she canonically never actually had a company chocobo to begin with because she was afraid that she lacked both the know-how and the means to take care of it.

Like... she's never really looked after a large creature like this, she's always out on the road, constantly in dangerous situations... she just didn't feel like it was an ideal living situation for an animal, even if said animal was meant for adventuring life since, well... she wasn't really your average adventurer even back then.

So she's good!! She's used to walking and there's always the porters if she is in need of a Chocobo at any point temporarily, and she can do so with the knowledge at the end of the day it will be back in a warm stable with food and someone who knows how to take care of it properly.

BUT. Then comes the point where Haurchefant rolls up to her and gifts her a Chocobo and what is she supposed to do other than smile and say thank you and accept it because she sure as hell isn't gonna look him in the eye and refuse his gift. That would be rude!! And possibly make her friend sad!! And she doesn't want that, and it's not like she hates animals, not at all!

So she names it Sesame and asks Haurchefant if she can stable it at the keep for now, and she takes it out a little bit for the less dangerous errands every now and then but mostly tries to keep it away from any real danger by leaving it in the stables and spoiling it with treats and pets when she has some downtime instead.

Eventually Myrri gets an apartment in Ishgard, the city famous for how great they are with Chocobo husbandry, which makes her feel a bit less guilty for intending to leave Sesame there p much permanently from that point forward.

She's gotten really attached! And she wants him to have a nice and comfortable life!

So she hires some stablehands and promises to visit whenever she has time, and in her mind that's a good and solid plan, at least until one of the people she hired contacts her like two weeks later like "Hey uhhhh I'm really sorry but you need to come home, your Chocobo has been acting increasingly more crazy and we can't calm him down no matter what we do."

So she comes back and spends some time with Sesame before she is needed elsewhere again but a week later the whole thing repeats.

And when she comes back this time the keepers she hired are like sorry but we think your Chocobo just really loves you and just really hates to be left here without you, have you considered taking him with you?

So she decides to just. Do that. Maybe Sesame just needs a lil enrichment and once he's got his fill he will be happy to stay in his cozy lil stable after all.

And it turns out her Chocobo just REALLY wants to throw hands! He's a menace and Myrri is bamboozled that she has to make sure her cute bird buddy doesn't try to fight every squirrel they pass, and it takes her a hot second to eventually figure out that he's just really protective of her, and in his silly little bird brain everything that moves is a potential threat apparently !!!

And Myrri can't help but be reminded of who raised her Chocobo, after all, and comes to the conclusion that of course it kinda makes sense he would have a protective streak a mile long, doesn't it? :')

So she resigns to the fact that her Chocobo is going to be her permanent travel buddy now just as the gods intended, and in her free time she brushes up on her animal care skills as much as she can, and Sesame is v happy and v content.

tl;dr myrri's in-game company chocobo is canonically the black chocobo haurchefant gifted her and they are besties who care for each other very much and i have lots of thoughts about them

#a'myrrhis venko #myrri lore #the shackles of my main are removed now i can write long esssys about silly headcanons i have for my bun #i care them

[baubeautyandthegeek]

Losing Game – Jackie Sharp/Heather Dunbar

A/N: Alt 4/10 for @whumpril

Heather isn’t sure, at first, what makes her call Jackie. Some instinct. It’s only been a few days since the woman stepped aside, chose to support her, but something is wrong, something feels wrong. So she calls. It isn’t Jackie who answers. It’s Eliana, the woman had been away for months, righting Frank’s wrongs in her home country but now it seems she’s back.  The truth comes out quickly. “She’s resting.” A pause, then, softer, so Jackie doesn’t hear what comes next, Eliana explains more. “She has no appetite. For anything. Food or life. She needs you Heather. Not Remy. Not me…. She needs you.” “Has she eaten at all?” “Not since… since the debate. She says. She’s… well, you saw the papers?” “Divorced. Yes. I saw.” She had been hopeful then, now she understood more clearly. “Did Frank…” “Yes. Her… Remy. Me. She needs you Heather. Not us. Not… reminders.” Heather considers her choices, then glances at the space where her own ring used to be. Frank had broken a lot of relationships, she had to choose to fight now or let Jackie slip away too. All she could hope was there was still some light left in Jackie’s life, something she could use to bring the spark back. She lands within hours. Her supporters have understood, she is told. They have all fallen for the bright law graduate and the powerful ex-military woman by her side. Now she has to hope she can make the sacrifice worth it. One last time. She’s quiet as she steps out of her shoes, hangs her bag and jacket, dumping the duffle she uses for sleepwear and toiletries into the guest room, then moves past Eliana, squeezing her hand as she passes, to kneel beside the bed where Jackie is resting, eyes closed but sparkling tears still on her sharp cheekbones. “Jackie?” A touch, feather-light, is all it takes. Jackie’s eyes flicker open, then close, a small whimper escaping the other woman. Three days of starving herself have left her weak, Heather can see that. “Jackie… talk to me.” Silence. She stands then, making a choice as she crosses to the door, instructing Eliana to find chicken soup, noodles. To bring back water. She will not give up. Jackie whimpers again when she sits her up, half-folded into her arms as she sips water, struggling to swallow. She’s less reluctant after the first taste of soup and noodle, accepting slow spoonful after slow spoonful, just enough to coax her back from the brink. It will take time, Heather knows, but she already looks better, less listless and limp. “What’s this about Jackie?” Jackie sighs, shakes her head. “Talk to me.” “You. I know… it should be him… my… my ex or Remy or even Eliana but… but it’s you. This… this began with you.” A pause then, a breath. “I’m sorry.” “I’m not.” Jackie slips a look up at her and Heather sighs softly. “Yes. Yes you did what Frank told you to do… and it hurt. It did…. I saw the look in your eyes even then Jackie. That was not you. Not really. He’s always been able to…. To bend you to his will. It’s his power. I saw the way you recoiled… flinched… when he turned on you. The man is a snake… but you fixed it Jackie. You worked with me. You still do…. This. This smear campaign? This bullshit he’s pulling. That doesn’t matter to me. Not as much as you. As us. As a team… or… or anything else. You have got to eat… Jackie. You must. I need you with me. All the way.” “He’ll come after you too…” “I don’t care. I want you, Jackie, by my side. I want you with me on this.” “I’m not a…” “A southerner with a penis? No. Thank god. I rather think I’d go crazy… I don’t need a man at my side Jackie. Never did. It’s what destroyed me, more than Frank ever could. He already took my family… and I know he hurt you… hurt us… with it. I don’t care. That was all… all an attempt to hide who and what I really am. I want you Jackie. I need you… and I need you healthy, ready to fight.” Silence then, after a small, choked sob, Jackie nods, her voice soft. “Just don’t leave.” “Never again.”

#heather dunbar #jackie sharp #duckie #house of cards #whumpril2024 #whumpril 2024 #alt 4 #no appetite #heather/jackie #jackie/heather