#well this is more of a warm up but it has another part
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍' / 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐌𝐒 ─ QH⁴³
TRACK 7 ─── FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER
TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !
౨ৎ ─ summary | he was always the first person she calls when she's broken up with her boyfriend. will this be like every other time, or something new?
─ word count | 2.2k
─ warnings | NSFW! smut with lots of plot, so much fucking angst (it's ttpd what do we expect?), mentions of cheating and manipulative (ex) bf, breaking-up, lots of cheating (on reader + kinda quinn/reader but depends on how you look at it), nothing else pretty much
─ ev's notes | yaya! another part!!! WOOO, but this one's an angsty one (but hey, at least this time it has SMUT WOOHOO)
THE FALLING OUT was bound to happen. You knew that at the end of the day, it was just simply fate. You weren't sure what the last straw was, all you knew was that you knew it was inevitable ─ it was supposed to happen that way.
You didn't even know where you were going until you got there. It was a habit, the moment you broke up with your boyfriend, you found yourself on Quinn's doorstep. Your mind was racing and somehow empty at the same time as you raised your fist to knock on his door. The familiar wooden door loomed before you as your hand hovered in mid-air, trembling with uncertainty.
Your hand trembled as you raised it to knock, the thud echoing through the silent night. Seconds stretched into eternity as you waited, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Then, as if on cue, the door swung open, revealing Quinn's disheveled appearance.
His gaze met yours and you offered no explanation, no justification for your sudden appearance on his doorstep. Instead, you simply stood there, searching for solace in the depths of his brown eyes.
Quinn's expression softened, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he stepped aside, a silent invitation for you to enter his home once more.
You entered the familiar home. It's changed since the last time you'd been there, almost six months ago ─ the last time you and your boyfriend had taken a break, which funnily only had lasted a week, but you somehow still had time to see Quinn again.
You sat on his couch comfortably as a silent sigh left your plump lips. Quinn's gaze lingered on your form, a mixture of familiarity and longing evident in his eyes.
Quinn moved to join you on the couch, his presence a comforting in uncertainty that threatened to engulf you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders.
"You want coffee?" Quinn's voice was rough and low as he spoke. Even though it was well after midnight, he still offered coffee ─ he was a caffeine fein but you didn't mind the bit. He always said the best therapy was warm drinks.
You nodded gratefully in response to Quinn's offer, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. As he rose from the couch, you watched him move with quiet admiration. There was a grace to his movements, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes without the need for words. It was moments like these that reminded you why you had been drawn to him in the first place, why his presence felt like a lifeline in the midst of uncertainty.
Lost in thought, you barely noticed as Quinn returned with two steaming mugs of coffee cradled in his hands. He settled back beside you, offering you gray Canucks mug with a small, knowing smile. You accepted it with a word of thanks, the warmth of the cup seeping into your fingertips.
Together, you sat in companionable silence, the only sound the quiet hum of the night outside and the occasional sip of coffee shared between you. You could feel Quinn's gaze on you after a few minutes and eventually, he spoke up.
"Are you done with him? For good?" Quinn's voice was gentle, yet tinged with a hint of envy. You could sense the weight of his question hanging in the air, the longing for reassurance mirrored in his eyes.
The honest answer was: you didn't know. You never knew, especially not with your boyfriend ─ no, ex boyfriend. You wanted to be done, you wanted to be out of the relationship that truly felt like a prison. But there was always that nagging doubt, that fear of the unknown that held you back from fully committing to moving on.
You struggled to find the words to explain the conflicting emotions that churned within you, torn between the want for freedom and the comfort of familiarity.
"I... I'm trying," you admitted, your voice shaky. "But you know how it is... it's complicated."
Quinn wanted to be angry, wanted to shout out at you and tell you that it would be okay. That he was there for you ─ that you never needed that cheating asshole you call a boyfriend. But he just couldn't, you looked broken already.
So he did what he knew how to do best, touch you. Gently, Quinn reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. Without another word, Quinn pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace.
He pulled your chin up, for your eyes to meet his. He didn't say anything else, he just leaned in and planted a needy kiss on your red lips.
──
"I don't understand what the hell you mean," Nick's voice was bitter as he averted his gaze from your face. Your gaze was pleading ─ all you wanted was for him to have a shred of empathy, for him to understand you.
Before you could say another word, he threw his fork on the plate causing a loud noise to echo through your apartment. You flinched, the tears that were building in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks.
"God, I can't even eat in peace anymore." Nick's voice was quiet but any less bitter. He finally met your eyes and you didn't see any empathy anymore, only anger.
You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your fists. "All I asked was for you to was for you to listen, to hear me out, to try to understand where I'm coming from."
"Understand, what exactly?" Nick scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain as he cut you off. "Understand your excuses? Your lies? Your betrayal? I'm tired of it, I'm tired of being the one who always has to bend over backwards to accommodate your feelings."
"My betrayal?" You responded, your hurt turning into anger. "My damn betrayal?! Me? You were the one who cheated on me, while we were together."
"What about Quinn, you think I don't know?" Nick glared at you with pure anger.
"What about Quinn?" You answered with the same tone, your voice tinged with defiance as you met Nick's glare.
"You think I don't know what's been going on between you two?" Nick shot back, his voice rising with each word. "I've seen the way you look at him, the way you act around him."
"I've never slept with him while we were together, Nick. Do you think I'm sick, like you? You've fucked every girl in Vancouver, you think I don't know?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your words.
The accusations hurled between you were like daggers, each one piercing through the fragile facade of your relationship, leaving behind a trail of devastation in its wake.
Nick's expression darkened at your retort. "Don't you dare turn this around on me," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "You're the one who's been lying to me, sneaking around behind my back."
You let out a bitter laugh and now it was your turn to throw the fork in the plate. You stood up from the seat, your heart racing with anger.
Standing up from your seat, you faced Nick with a fire burning in your eyes. "You accuse me of lying? Of sneaking around? Look in the damn mirror, Nick. You're the one who's been cheating, not me."
"You're the one who's been living a lie, Nick. Pretending to be something you're not, while sneaking around behind my back."
The words spilled from your lips in a torrent of pent-up emotion, each accusation a barb aimed squarely at the heart of the matter. You refused to back down, refusing to allow Nick to blame you for your relationship problems.
"I'm done." You grabbed your coat and purse, practically running out of the home. You pulled out your phone, shakily sending a text message.
i need you
can i call you?
please
He responded within a couple minutes and by then, you were almost at his house.
of course
i'm home
──
In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Quinn's lips pressing against yours, a desperate plea for you. As your lips met his, the weight of the world fell away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of desire that surged between you.
You let him take control, his hands roaming your body. He pushed you down softly, letting you fall back on the couch as he got on top of you. You were breathless as he pulled back from you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck.
He pulled your legs up so that you were straddling his waist, while your hands pulled on his ruffled-up hair. You let out soft whimpers as you let him kiss you and take care of you ─ the way Nick never did. His touch was soft, tender and sweet. Every touch was meaningful and filled with care and neediness.
He hadn't felt your touch in months and he was so needy, so desperate but he was still careful and soft. The way you liked, the way he knew Nick never treated you. "God, you're beautiful."
He mumbled softly against your neck, soft praises leaving his chapped lips. Quinn pulled off your shorts carefully, throwing them on the ground before he pulled off his sweatpants.
Wordlessly, you both stripped until you were both naked. He held you close to his chest as he let out a desperate groan, your arms around his shoulders to keep close as possible. He needed you so bad and you wanted to feel him inside of you, to feel him as close as physically possible.
He didn't waste any time, he pulled out his hardened member as slowly pushed into your already soaking hole. He held you close as he bottomed you out, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as a moan fell from your lips. God, how much he missed that sound.
He waited as you adjusted to his length before he began thrusting in and out of you, his movements became more desperate. His hands gripped your hips as he fucked into you, making his own desperate grunts.
You felt so full and you swore this was exactly where you wanted to be, always and forever. All thoughts of your problems were dissipated the moments his lips touched yours and it felt like now you were floating, you and Quinn in your own world. Lost in the warmth of Quinn, you surrendered yourself to the blissful oblivion of the present moment; you felt weightless, untethered from the burdens that had weighed you down.
As the world faded into the background, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the overwhelming tide of emotion that surged between you and Quinn.
And as quick as it started, you felt yourself come close. "Fuck, Quinn. I'm so close," you whined as Quinn grunted in response. He pulled your legs further up, pulling them on to his shoulders so he could you feel even deeper.
The new angle made the knot in your stomach snap unexpectedly, a guttural moan coming out of your mouth as your head fell back. You cried out, tears slipping from your eyes from the pure bliss you felt.
A few more deep thrusts and Quinn's seed was spilling into you, he fell onto your chest quickly. Both of you caught your breaths, your minds empty except for each other.
As you lay entwined in Quinn's embrace, a sense of calm washed over you and in that intimidate moment, you felt the fear of unknown slowly dissipate as you felt Quinn's arm held you close.
With each beat of your heart, the truth became painfully clear: Quinn was the only person who truly understood you, who accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. In his arms, you felt seen, heard, and loved in a way that no one else could ever compare to.
"I don't wanna lose you, never again." Your voice was hoarse and full of emotion. "Quinn, look at me."
As you spoke, your voice trembled with the weight of your emotions, raw and unfiltered. With a gentle touch of his chin, you urged Quinn to meet your gaze, your heart laid bare before him, vulnerable yet overflowing with love. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to express the depth of your love for him.
Quinn's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and understanding. "I don't want to lose you either," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with a fierce determination. "You mean everything to me."
There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that came from the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew without a doubt that he loved you.
With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the tears that glistened in Quinn's eyes, your touch a silent promise of the love that burned brightly within your heart.
"I'm here," you murmured softly, your voice a whispered vow of commitment. "I'm not going anywhere."
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TAEHYUN - MAGIC TRICK
Warnings: smut, fingering, sub fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers, slight size kink
Taehyun was already mesmerizing enough, simply because of the way he carried himself. Even without mentioning his perfectly crafted face, his elegant features, or the way his hair sprawled across his face each time it moved when it wasn't gelled out of the way. The way his eyes sparkled as they looked into yours even though you were both just friends, the way they looked like they were only meant to look into yours.
You and Taehyun had met each other as kids when your mom had forgotten to pick you up at school, and as tears rolled down your face, he was the only one to wipe them away despite being just as young as you. He always seemed to just know the right things to say, and growing up whenever you felt any emotion, he stuck by you and chose to make you feel better regardless of how you felt. As he grew older, his features matured, and you couldn't help but accept that what the things you felt towards him weren't as simple as platonic emotions. Was it something more? No, it couldn't be, right?
As you walked underneath the multicolored sky, with grey clouds shrouding the setting sun. You figured it would rain, and your house was farther than Taehyun's from the café you worked at. So here you found yourself once more, at the doorstep of his house. However, it started raining long before you could reach there and you ended up soaking wet as you rang the doorbell. Even though the both of you grew older, you couldn't help but want him beside you. As the lightning strikes behind you, Taehyun opens the door.
"Hey y/n, please come in! I was going to call you over, are you okay? Why are you standing outside in this storm?" said Taehyun with concern. But in your head, all you could think is how he looked at you with his sparkly eyes again. No! Don't look at me with those eyes...
"Hey...I just wanted to stop by, but it started storming before I could get here. I'm sorry for showing up randomly." You frowned and spoke with a slight pout on your face.
"Well, you gonna come in or not?" Taehyun smiled at you, wrapping his beautiful fingers around your wrist and his other around your waist. You could feel the contrast of his warm touch through your now cold and wet clothes. Of course, he was wearing one of those tight black compression tees with no sleeves. You could see each and every single vein of his. You could see his muscles bulging each time he swayed his arm while leading you in. You wondered what else he could do with those hands of his....
—
Ever since the day he saw you crying at school, he never wanted you to shed another tear. He never wanted a sad expression to cover your delicate eyes that blinked a little too much when they were confused or tearing up, he never wanted your lips to shake when those very tears fell, or even the corners to droop a little. After Taehyun wrapped you in a towel and led you to his room to give you some of his spare clothes to wear, which were already oversized on him, so they fit you even looser. Taehyun couldn't explain how that made him feel. He wanted to take care of you, but a part of him wanted to ruin you. He wanted to ruin you so that no one else could have you. Just him, you'd be just his forever, but he's too scared to mess up what he has already.
"Y/n, why don't you come here? You wanna drink a little bit to warm up from how chilly it's gotten outside? Plus, we can loosen up a little and just relax. You can even sleep over since the storm probably won't subside till tomorrow morning. I have magic tricks to show you!" said Taehyun enthusiastically. "Sure Tyun, I'm up for it if you are." You say as you show him the sweetest smile. He poured both you and him a shot each, and you decided to quickly go sit on the couch he was on.
As you downed the shot and plopped down onto the couch next to him. You could see a bunch of different things laid out on his coffee table, ranging from a stack of cards to small items like a coin. "What's all this for Tyun? Learning more magic tricks?" You questioned. Inside your head, you questioned if he could make your complicated feelings for him disappear instead of any of the objects. "Yeah y/n! There's some really cool ones I have to show you." said Taehyun. When he told you that he had new tricks to show you, you didn't think it would involve so many lingering touches. You were burning up, and unfortunately, Taehyun caught onto it as usual.
You usually did tend to get hot after a shot, which was originally the reason why the both of you took a shot together. But, now you felt your blood rushing to your core because Taehyun and you were both tipsy, and you knew how clingy he got after drinking a little bit. This is exactly how you got to the position of him hovering above you on the couch as you laid down, as he pulled out yet another coin from behind your ear as you looked for where it disappeared to. "Tyun, can you show me how to do a trick?" You knew that curiosity killed the cat, so why did you ask the question you just did?
Taehyun smirked. Why is he smirking? You were going to explode, and you swore this man would be the death of you. "You know a magician never reveals his tricks....but this time I'll show you exactly how to do it." said Taehyun as he moved his face just centimeters away from yours, a hint of mischief in his voice—he continued on to say, "but you have to sit back and really relax, ok y/n? You can tell me to stop any time you want. We don't even have to do this if you don't want to."
His eyes sparkled just as much they did each time he looked at you, and you could see he meant every word he was saying. "Tyun, you know I trust you with my life, right?" Your eyes reflected his as you looked into them with just as much admiration as he did. You wanted to tell him you love him horribly in this moment, but something held you back. What if he didn't want you in that way? What if—
Suddenly, you felt his warm hand on your cheek as he pulled you into a searing, passionate, and long kiss. You felt every emotion of his, every second that he longed for you, you felt every ounce of love that he held back all these years. Everything was poured into that one kiss. You tasted the shot on his lips, but you didn't want to pull away. Your feelings for him washed over you in the most dramatic waves, and you kept kissing him until you felt each atom of oxygen leave your lungs. "Tyun, I love you. Please..."
You were so needy that you could only squeeze your thighs together and whimper. "I love you more, darling. You wanna know what my magic trick is, baby? I can make my fingers disappear." said Taehyun with that smirk of his plastered onto his perfect face once again. "W- what do you mean Tyun? Please don't tease me." You blushed and hid your face to the side of the sofa, but Taehyun just put his hand on your jaw and made you look at him.
"Baby, to learn the trick, you're going to have to watch me, right?" said Taehyun. You could have came just from him being so suggestive with you. You couldn't take him being on top of you like this any longer if he didn't do anything. He made quick work of your top and bottoms and slipped your panties off of your legs slowly. "You're so beautiful for me, all for me....only for me y/n." Taehyun breathed out in a whisper.
A moan escapes your lips as soon as you see his lips latch on to your clit, he licks a stripe up your cunt and proceeds to keep eye contact just so he can make sure you're watching how dirty he's being. "T- Tyun! Mmmh—" you whimpered pathetically, and Taehyun moaned out simply because of how beautiful you sounded as you dripped onto his faux leather couch. "Baby, I'm going to show you the main part of the trick, keep watching closely okay? You're doing amazing. You'll be great at this trick darling."
He took his ring and middle finger and played around with your slick until they coated his long and slender fingers, and he slowly slipped into you inch by inch. "Tyuuun! I can't—'s too much!" You moaned out and and teared up, it's not that it hurt, but it's that it felt too good that you felt like you'd lose your mind.
"Baby, you can take it. Take your time, I'm right here." said Taehyun as he brought his face back up to you, placed the hand gripping your hips on to your cheek, and left another long kiss with his plush and swollen lips onto yours. You tasted yourself on him, and you felt even more intoxicated and dizzy than you did after getting tipsy from that shot. "a- ahhh please Tyun...please move. Do something, please!" You begged him. After all, he couldn't ever reject a request from his princess. "At your command, darling" Taehyun said in a raspy manner.
Taehyun managed to brush against your most sensitive spot each time he moved his fingers, and it felt so good that it didn't even take him many strokes until you were screaming his name. "Tyun!! Please, I- I mmmh— cumming!!!" You mewled as tears rolled down your pretty face. Taehyun looked up at you like you were his world as you came down from your high, because you were his world.
"Told you I'd make my fingers disappear baby, think you can show me if you can make something else disappear next?" Taehyun whispered into your ear, as he proceeded to leave marks onto your neck.
The only thing he couldn't make disappear even if he could.
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Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent
type of post: short fics
characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo
additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#jamil viper x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#floyd leech x reader#rollo flamme x reader#can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u
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Just jeonghan sending a video of his hands like this (https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6C2y6bJ-Uu/?igsh=MWhlaGhtOG40N2h1Yw==) while he's on tour for you and then calling you and making you masturbate imagining those fingers
ᝰ.ᐟ ☕️ — Y.JH ; ! such a tease
nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. [ smut ] ꩜. | part of the jeonghan hands committee 🫡
“ missing your boyfriend while he’s on tour one day he sent a video, you thought it was just another video of him. oh how you were wrong. ”
it was just another boring day without your lover, lounging at the comfort of your bed since it was nighttime there was nothing to do honestly but to sit & watch some series on your laptop.
honestly you missed him even tho he left a few weeks ago but a person can miss him the yoon jeonghan especially his fucking sessions with damn, it was the best.
twisting & turning on the duvet the currently warmed your skin, you were getting bored really fast, needing entertainment quick, suddeling a ping! from your phone erupting, it was an amusing coincidence, of course you checked your phone, quickly smiling realizing it was a message from your boyfriend.
hannie 🩶 / hello doll, how are you, missing you </33
you / hiii !! I’m missing you so not good :(((
hannie 🩶 / it’s only a couple months, sweets I promise then I’ll never leave you alone like ever 💯
you / yeah I know but… what about now
hannie 🩶 / I’m sorry baby:(
you sighed, you didnt want to make him feel bad but at the same time you missed him so much truly, I mean everyone missed their lover when they are gone right?
returning to the misery of watching a romcom which you quite literally don’t understand it, you just put it on to wash away your sadness of missing jeonghan.
suddenly another ping!.
hannie 🩶 has sent a video.
when you opened it your jaw was widened, that little fucker you thought, he knew you had a thing for his hands, sending a video while he was away just made it worse.
you looked at how his hands moved wishing it was playing with your cunt that was now wet.
you whined pressing your thighs together to cause friction, to ease the feeling.
you / ???
you / what the fuck are you doing?
read.
he really left you on read? right now? in a life of crisis where you needed him to plunge his fingers in & out your cunt till you came a million times.
“that’s son of a !-“ you yelled, but got cut off quickly by a ring erupting from your phone.
hannie 🩶 is calling.
answering the phone quickly, praying that this phone call would turn into a steamy masturbation session.
“hello?” you spoke up first, needing to know why he would tease you.
“you loved the video i assume” he jumped right into it, with a teasing laugh following through it
“shut up you idiot, you know how I feel! especially that your away, dumbass!” you whined.
“awh my baby misses me so much doesn’t she?” he teased more not caring about the need you so much had.
“please just… just don’t tease anymore” you said more quieter then a few moments ago
“tell me baby, what are you thinking about?”
“your hands, hannie” you pouted, looking at yours, wishing it was his about to play with you instead.
“my hands?, well doll what are my hands gonna do you for you hm?” he asked once more, wanting more answers uttering from your mouth.
“you know what I mean han” you mumbled but he catched you hearing that.
“no baby I don’t know what you mean” he said, voice hinting with amusement.
“your hands in me, okay??” you finally confessed. the not so innocent thoughts about his fingers.
“you’re so cute when you act like that, how about you imagine my fingers in your pretty little cunt hm?” he said you but you knew well it was anything but a favor.
“now listen doll, i want you to play with your clit slowly how does that sound?” he continued.
you obeyed, slipping your fingers inside your soiled panties, till they came in contact with your clitoris, you pressed on it firmly, a sigh of relive coming out then continuing to rub it in a circular motion, with quite subtle moans following.
jeonghan tensed to your lewd sounds, his member hardening more than a few moments ago, his hand slipping down to press on his raging cock reliving the pain, he groaned a fuuck lowly, “cmon now sweets slip in a finger for me, go in & out shit” he cursed out as you followed his every word.
your finger met with your wet hole arousal dripping out of it, slipping it in quite easily then out shortly, you continued to this routine till you started to beg for more, “please hannie I wan’ more please” you whined tears threatened to spill down your eyes, jeonghan had always teased you during sex calling you his crybaby, which turned you on immensely.
“my baby slut already crying huh? you’re so pathetic” he laughed out, “cmon you can add a finger then scissor them baby, want you to stretch you out you can do that” he followed up.
you added another finger plunging them into you going them in & out in a rythem then eventually parting them inside of you, you rolled your eyes loving the feeling of it, a loud moan escaping your pretty lips with a bunch of curses, jeonghan began palming himself to your sounds, groaning as he imagined you giving him a handjob.
you sped up your pace, wanting to catch your orgasm, not knowing you slipped a third trying to imitate his hands knowing you could never feel the same with his hands “thinking bout me fucking you open with my hands baby hm? my dumb fuckin’ baby such a whore for just my hands god” he threw his head back.
feeling the knot thing inside your belly you fasten the pace once more, desperately needing to cum, & jeonghan’s dirty talk helped a ton of lewd imaginations of you & him.
“fuck, fuck, fuuck hmphh!!” you yelled as cum gushed through your hole, panting heavily.
“mm that was good hannie” you spoke out barley.
“yeah? shit you should’ve heard how you sounded like” he chuckled a bit.
“thank you hannie I love you” you shyly spoke
“mm love you too baby, you should sleep it’s quite late there isn’t it” he said, you defended yourself saying you weren’t sleepy but he knew you well, you would wake up grumpy, sooner or later you wished him good night as he did so too.
in the morning ᯓᡣ𐭩
hannie 🩶 has sent a photo !
you woke to a message sent from your lover.
smiling as you opened it, but quickly fading away as you realized it’s a dick pic. not just any it was his dick with your cum filled panties with it.
! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! hope you like this anon !!
#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen scenarios#svt smut#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan smut#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan#seventeen
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It’s a date.
UCLA! jessie fleming x reader
summary: reader starts her first semester at UCLA and meets bruins midfielder, jessie fleming.
content: fluff, short one-shot. author has no knowledge of the American education system.
The first day of university was always going to be hard. New people, new campus, new lecturers and new classes all together. Maybe it was the fact you’d never been this far from home before that made it worse.
UCLA was your dream school. Quite literally. You remeber looking at the university website back when you where in middle school and imagining yourself there: kicking a ball in the oval, studying in a library, laps in the big pools. the feeling of actually being here was… overwhelming.
Like all eighteen year olds do, you had launched yourself into this thing head first: packed bags, kissed your dog goodbye and hopped on the plane. And like most eighteen year olds , you where now struck with the intensity of your actions.
Here you where, miles from home, no connections in the state, standing outside the lecture theatre for your first class. So yes, overwhelming would be the word of choice.
You looked down at your timetable for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last minute, checking and triple checking that you had got the room right.
“Environmental Studies: Spheres 101”. The name of the course seemed to taunt you at you stared at it blankly.
Leave it to you to go to one of the most prestigious sports schools in the world, (doing very minimal sport yourself) and end up doing a course all about what? Water, earth, wind and fire?
You knew it was more important than that of course. You picked environmental engineering for a reason: because you cared about that sort of stuff!
You took a long breath readying to walk in when-
“Oh shit I am so sorry! God I was not looking where I was going!” The thump in your shoulder didn’t knock you quite as off balance as the thick Canadian accent. You froze for a moment, not knowing whether to be pissed at this stranger’s clumsiness or charmed but the voice that reminded you of home. Your eyes flashed up to meet the source of the voice and decided to be charmed.
Her eyes where the first thing you noticed: large and brown and…. well charming you suposed. Every other part of the girls face fell neatly into place behind those eyes: perfect, warm and adorned with a lopsided and slightly guilty smile.
It was then that you realised you hadn’t responded.
“Oh no don’t worry. I was distracted myself” you rushed out, words melding into a lump as they rushed to get passed your lips. It was worth it as you watched the girls guilt melt away into an easier grin.
“Another Canadian! I thought I was going to be alone here you know” she laughed “I don’t think I would have survived”.
You nod eagerly, feeling the other girls relief. “God same! I’m already off kilter over here”
“Eh. we’ll muddle through” she grinned back giving an animated wink before looking back at the door you where still loitering before.
“Might need to…” she trailed off at motioned with her chin to the door.
“Right right yes! I don’t want to be late to learn about the spheres of the environment” you drawled sarcastically. The girl rolled her eyes in agreement.
“Right!? when I saw that on my timetable I couldn’t believe it! I swear I learned this in 9th grade”.
“American’s eh?” you tut with a playful smile. God you hoped none of the resident americans would over hear you.
The girl (you realised you didn’t yet know her name) laughed loudly, her teeth flashing handsomely (Looking at her you realised that “handsome” was a pretty accurate diagnosis: broad shoulders, a freakishly athletic build, sharp jawline. Yes, handsome was the word). Together you walked forward into the lecture hall, thankfully not late before parting ways: her going to sit next to a few other athletic looking girls with tight ponytails, and you going to sit near the front (curse your poor eyesight).
~
To be brutally honest, after that little interaction, you almost completely forgot about the handsome canadian girl with charming eyes from your environmental engineering course. Almost. You saw her about a few times: in the distance on the playing field, walking around campus. But you hadn’t really talked to her since that first class at the beginning of semester. Everytime you got into class she was already there, sitting next to the Bruins girls, pen in hand, with deadly focus.
You reasoned that it would be impolite to interrupt her, it would be nosy to try join her little group and it would be downright stalkerish to try track her down across campus.
Not to mention the university work that was flooding in… it was not stopping for anything, that’s for sure, definitely not your strange hang up over a girl you had one interaction with.
Your reasoning for this preoccupation was simply that you missed home: Canada seemed so far away especially as the weather only got warmer. This girl was simply a reminder that the faraway moose land was real! Additionally, maybe your brain got confused: a kind interaction plus the familiar Canadian accent equals weird unreasonable attachment.
You shook your head and tried to refocus your eyes in the screen in front of you. You had been staring at the blank document you so long that your head had started to ache and the hot chocolate you bought before you sat down was now definitely cold. The cafe was one of those tiny ones with maybe three indoor tables and a booming espresso machine that took up most of the counter space by the cash register and drowned out the soft music echoing from the speakers.
You had found it during the second week of semester and now frequented it most afternoons to try and crank out as many assignments as possible. Routine was important, you must understand that.
You squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your temple before being rudely startled by a tap of the shoulder.
“Jeezus! give a girl some warning please!” you snapped before looking up at the offender. Brown eyes stared back at you filled with an amused glint.
“We gotta stop meeting like this” she laughed. The same laugh that showed off her handsome features and warm glow.
“Oh hey! It’s um… you!” it wasn’t meant to sound like a stutter but it came out that way anyways.
“Jessie” she smiled softly, catching your fumble “Jessie Fleming? We have some lectures together?”
“Yes no! I remember sorry. I just didn’t catch your name” you rambled, feeling suddenly very foolish. She patted your shoulder to pull you out of the spiral.
“I know. I’m just messing” she sat down in the seat opposite you with a sigh.
It was then that you really looked at her. She looked very much the same as she had the first time apart from a few key things: her hair was shorter (sitting just above her shoulders whereas before it had hung in a long plat down her back) and her left eye seemed strangely swollen and purple.
“Um… get into a fight Fleming?” you asked, indicating to her, now obvious, black eye. To your surprise she laughed!
“Oh this old thing! No just a bad tackle during soccer practice” she grinned, poking the swollen lid with a dramatic wince.
“Soccer… OH! Oh it makes sense now” you lean back in your chair and look at her like you had only just noticed her properly.
“Fleming! 21! bruins midfielder! God I never made the connection!” you laughed, feeling stupid. Maybe if you had payed more attention to the sport at your SPORT university, you would have found out her name sooner.
“Oh hush. It’s really nothing” she muttered looking embarrassed.
“No, shut up Fleming. No it isn’t! I heard a girl in the library talking about your goal in a match a few weeks ago! Boy I know jack shit about sport but I know it was impressive” you hissed back eagerly.
“No really-“
“Take the damn compliment Jessie”
“Fine! Thank you” she smiled awkwardly with a role of her eyes “It was a pretty good goal I guess”
You smiled and watched her for a long moment as she settled into the seat fully. Your eyes followed her perfect nose, flickered up to her eyebrows before coming to rest at her lips. How could someone look that good so effortlessly?
“Staring is rude” she stated bluntly, as her lips curled into a smirk. You looked away with a jerk, cheeks flaming.
“I- I was not!”
“Okay…”
“I wasn’t staring! You soccer types, always so big headed!” you mumble, crossing your arms across your chest. You felt childish: of course you had been staring! God how silly that this girl, Jessie, thought you could hold back from staring at her! You’re only human after all.
“I-“ Jessie started to speak but cut herself off, her mouth hanging open slightly.
“Yes?”
“I might be out of play for a few weeks. Concussion protocols and all that but… well stop me if this is too forward but, I’d love for you to come to a game? One of my games I mean” her question ended in a rush before she leaned back from the table with big curious eyes. You stared back, dumbfounded. It took a shake of your head to get you to respond.
“You want me to come to a bruins game?”
“Uhh. Yes?”
“You know I don’t know anything about soccer?”
“I did assume that, yes.”
“But you want me there?”
“Yes.” her tone was soft but firm, determined. “I want you to come to a game please. To watch me play? Or we can watch it together if I’m still out for injury?”
You laugh and clap a hand over your mouth.
“Are you asking me on a date Jessie Fleming?” you spit out, feeling suddenly emboldened by the other girls flustered expression. Jessie’s cheeks only became redder at your sudden inquiry.
“Yes please?” came her hopeful squeak.
You grinned and leaned over the table, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, just under her bruised eye, before sitting back in one swift movement.
“Ok. But you’re going to have to let me wear your jersey 21. Oh, and explain the offside rule.”
Jessie groaned, but her pink cheeks gave her away.
“Fine. It’s a date.”
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The Maiden of The Barren Rime
Winter Wind blows through the valley, pushes us into our homes.
Pleading she knocks at our windows, scorned she continues to roam.
Chapter 1: The Brambled Beauty
Mina quieted at the sound of unfamiliar voices on the wind.
“Are you sure this is the right cabin?” It was a feminine voice, on the younger side, with a slight Tinian accent, most likely from the North Coast judging from the way they dragged the “er” in “sure.”
“Of course this is the right cabin! It’s the only cabin in this damned forest!” A masculine voice spat back. Staunchly Lanholdian, Mina could almost feel the thick tension in their tongue behind her own teeth. The gravel of age and annoyance ground up from the back of their throat.
Mina picked up her pace, leaping up into the treetops, crossing miles in minutes towards the voices with no more sound than the rustle of wind through pine needles.
She stilled. The branch beneath her feet barely creaked.
They were outside her cabin. A young woman with thick glasses and even thicker curly hair checked the compass in her hand as the short, sturdy man beside her impatiently tapped his foot and picked at the split ends of his long, braided beard.
Mina placed a hand on the hilt of her sword as she watched them through the canopy. The man’s leather armor bore a crest depicting a mountain top and three diamonds, with glinting, well-polished stripes on his pauldron pronouncing his rank. Seven; a general of lauded stature. Why he traveled with the young woman was unclear.
She was clearly not a noble. The slight roll forward of her shoulders, the patterned bandanna holding her hair out of her eyes too weathered or wrinkled for even a disguised royal to wear, and a decent soldier would never keep their guard down as much as hers was in an unfamiliar place. Perhaps she had hired the knight as security on her journey.
A journey Mina would take no part in.
She shifted to sit easily and silently, making sure not to catch the beaver skins hanging from her pack beneath her. A few more minutes and they would leave, then she could prep the skins and start to smoke the meat in her satchel as planned.
“Well,” the woman stuffed her compass into her jacket pocket. “At least it’s a nice day out to wait. Sun’s still warm enough to cut the edge off the autumn chill.”
Annoyingly, she made her way to the porch of Mina’s cabin and took a seat on its rough wooden steps. Mina ground her teeth slightly. Maybe a splinter or two would poke her through her patchwork skirt and urge her away.
The man huffed and kicked at a tuft of crabgrass. “You think this chill has an edge? Just wait until you’re on the Peaks.” The tuft came loose, sending dirt and now homeless pill bugs scattering. “If we ever get to the fucking Peaks.”
Dammit, Mina thought. They were here for an expedition.
“Ya know, we could always go with another alpinist,” the woman offered. “Beto Lamar’s homestead is about a day’s ride west from here.”
“A day’s ride but three weeks past our deadline,” the man said. “This girl can bring us back to Lanholde in under a month.” He stomped over and stood on the steps, too proud to sit, but not proud enough to not lean on the railing for support. “She will get us there in a month.”
“Even if she’s already off on an expedition?”
“She’s not,” the man gestured over his shoulder. “The windows are open. And this cabin is too well maintained for its owner to just head off for two months with the windows left open.”
Mina thudded her head against the tree trunk. Of course. An observant and stubborn knight.
She inhaled deeply, held it, then exhaled, taking her frustration down a little, unclenching her jaw just a touch. She'd piss them off enough that they’d rather stand Lamar’s extra three weeks in the cold than put up with her, and if that didn’t work, ask for a ridiculous amount of gold to scare them off.
Three more weeks in the cold. Three more weeks to die. The unwilling thought made her teeth ache.
She climbed down from the pine she had perched in and moved soundlessly towards the drying rack staked beside her cabin. She removed one of the rungs filled with beaver skins from her pack. A loud and forceful snap echoed through the woods as she dropped it into place.
The trespassing pair jumped. The knight drew his sword as the woman bladed her feet into a wide stance, arms lifted, ready to perform some sort of cast.
So they were a magic wielder and a knight.
“Get off the porch,” Mina stated bluntly as she hung another rack.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the knight’s jaw fall agape while the woman’s disposition relaxed. She straightened up out of her fighting stance, and Mina caught the faint sound of a cork squeaking back into a bottle on the wind.
“My apologies, miss. We’re looking for the alpinist that lives here,” she said. “Would that be you?”
“No,” Mina lied. “I’m a hunter. The alpinist lives to the west.”
The woman arched an eyebrow and looked to the knight. He flared his nostrils, puffed out his chest, and stomped over towards her.
“I am Sir Murmir Gargic, general-rank knight of the Lanholde Royal Army, proud servant to King Fritz Reinhardt.”
“Never heard of him,” she lied again.
The knight sputtered, whatever bullshit speech he had prepared dying on his tongue. “You never—”
“Sir Gargic,” the woman whispered behind him, calling his attention and allowing him a moment to regain his composure.
Annoying.
“Well, he’s heard of you, and has specifically recommended that we seek you out to lead us up the Fallow Peaks. We’re in a bit of a time crunch, so if you don’t mind talking terms so we can start the expedition today—”
“If that’s the case, then I guess your king expects you both to die,” Mina droned, mono-toned and matter-of-factly. “I’m a hunter, not an alpinist.”
The knight’s breathing shallowed as her jab at his ruler crawled under his skin. He inhaled deeply, a tirade building, when the woman placed a hand on his shoulder.
“How much would it cost for you to be an alpinist?” she asked.
Mina drifted her dull gaze over towards the woman, finding her with a smirk on her lips and a knowing glint in her eye.
“Seven thousand gilt one way,” she answered. “The real alpinist to the west charges half that.”
“I’m sure.” The woman shrugged. “But the alpinist we’re looking for fits your description exactly. Female alpinist. Rough around the edges. Lives alone in a cabin deep in the Sandere Woods, five hundred paces off of the last bend in Woodgullet Road, heading northeast.” She rattled off the details as if she were reading them off a sheet of paper.
Mina blinked slowly, then repeated. “Seven thousand gilt one way.”
“Deal.”
Gods fucking dammit. An unfortunately familiar tug pulled at her spine.
Sir Gargic fished out a scroll from one of the pouches on his belt, while the woman brandished a quill and a bottle of ink. He scrawled something down on it, then turned the parchment in her direction: a contract of duty.
His thick, stubby finger pointed at the 7,000g written next to the terms of payment. “Seven-thousand gilt to be delivered direct from the Capitol’s treasury upon our safe arrival.” His finger traveled down the page to a long signature line. “All you need to do is sign here.”
She did, reluctantly. Her arm dragged by that damned tug.
“Mina,” the woman read her name aloud, standing on the tips of her toes to watch as she wrote it. “I’m Wera Alrust.”
Mina snapped the quill once she finished, dropped it to the ground, and headed into her cabin.
“Where are you going?” Sir Gargic barked behind her. “You’re under contract to—”
“Packing,” Mina answered. “Can’t climb a ten-thousand-foot cliff face with just a bow, a sword, and a can-do attitude.” She paused in the doorway. “Just two going up?”
“Five,” Wera answered. “Six if you count yourself.”
“I don’t.”
Last-minute trips up the Fallow Peaks were nothing new to Mina, as much as she loathed them. They were always inconvenient and pressing, which meant the travelers were stressed and distracted — which meant the death count was usually higher than the average one or two losses. Expeditions such as this were few and far between, at least. Most travelers knew to prepare well in advance for the perilous journey, contracting her months ahead of time instead of minutes.
She closed all the windows and locked the shutters, made sure her books and sheet music were lifted off the ground in case the fall rains caused the lake to flood, and tucked the more expensive of her instruments away as she filled the pack she kept by the door.
“Flint, whytewing leathers, tarp, rations, climbing axes…” she muttered to herself as she rifled through it — taking stock to make sure she had everything she needed — then picked up a fiddle and bow leaning against a hard wooden chair. She loosened up the strings a bit and unstrung the bow to keep the horse hairs from snapping, then shoved it in with the rest of her gear.
“Where are the other three?” she asked as she stepped back outside and locked the door.
“Back on the road, waiting with the wagon,” Wera replied.
“You can’t take a wagon up a mountain.”
“We don’t plan to.” She was, frustratingly, smiling at Mina when she turned around. “Ready to go?”
“Lead the way.”
Sir Gargic headed off, impatience and frustration bringing out the ill-manner child in him. With such thin skin, it wouldn’t be long before he broke their contract, or he died. Rabbet’s Pass most likely, which would be convenient. She could leave his corpse in the caves there, and they wouldn’t have too far of a walk back to Sandere afterwards.
After only a few wrong turns through the thick wood, the seldom-used road emerged. A simple covered wagon pulled off to the side let the four horses that drove it graze lazily, while two more members of their party hung around it: an old woman with her hair up in a tight bun, sitting on the ground making daisy chains out of dandelions, and a young man with a sharp haircut and a well-coiffed mustache scrawling in a notebook as he sat in the driver’s seat.
Sir Gargic’s spine straightened and chest puffed out as he put on a bit of bravado. “We’ve returned!” he cried, waving grandly.
The old woman and mustached man looked up from their work. The woman abandoned her dandelions and stood to meet them, while the young man looked them over and flipped to another page in his book; quill taking off in a fury.
“Ah! Are you the young lady who will be guiding us?” The old woman smiled sweetly. “My name’s Tanir and the boy on the cart is Enoch.” She turned over her shoulder and hollered, “Wave hello, Enoch!”
Enoch raised his hand partially, too engrossed in whatever he was writing to look away.
“Mina.” Mina met Tanir’s gaze, and the old woman’s brow furrowed. She was looking for the appropriate response, a sign of expression to source Mina’s first impression of her. Mina watched her bottom lip shift subtly, a minuscule pucker as her teeth bit behind it uneased to find nothing.
Annoy the knight. Unnerve the old woman. Now she just had to find the others’ weaknesses.
“You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road. They’ll slow us down and will be hunted by the beasts of the Harrow.”
“Oh, uh—” Tanir swallowed. “That sounds like something you should discuss with Master Windenhofer. I’ll go get him for you.” She flashed another smile, this one fueled by nerves, and hurried off into the back of the wagon.
Enoch snapped his notebook shut and leaned over the side of the driver’s seat. He rested his chin on his hand dramatically, abandoning the fierce focus he held when writing to gaze at Mina with puppy dog eyes. “Did you know you are extremely beautiful for an alpinist?”
Sir Gargic sputtered with embarrassment. Wera shot Enoch a disgusted look.
Mina stared at him blankly.
“I know,” she said after a moment.
Enoch choked on his spit at her response. Wera burst out into a fit of laughter, drawing Mina’s attention.
Laughter wasn’t a response she was used to receiving.
“Don’t forget to write that one down,” Wera wheezed through her giggles. “‘My attempts at flirtation failed tremendously as usual.’ A good archivist doesn’t leave out any details!”
“Enough of that, Enoch!” Sir Gargic snipped, hitting him on the arm. “She comes highly recommended by The Crown of Lanholde, and you will address her with the respect that such a recommendation warrants!”
“S-sorry, M-mina,” Enoch stammered, still caught off guard by her curtness as he leaned back away from her, rubbing his injured arm.
“I hear we have a new face joining our motley crew!” a warm, deep voice cheered from inside the wagon. The cart bounced as a tall, lean man, with a wide smile and a thick shag haircut, stepped out of it, Tanir following behind.
“Hello, I am Sebastian Windenhofer. It is wonderful to meet you!” the man extended his hand out in greeting.
A soft breeze blew between them as Mina considered his outstretched hand. His fingers were long, as to be expected of someone of his height, and his palms were oddly covered with an even layer of callous.
She did not shake it.
“Mina,” she said to the hand, in the same bland manner that she had introduced herself to everyone else.
Sebastian seemed unbothered by his spurned handshake, and instead clasped his hands together and nodded his head softly, “Mina.” There was a slight hum to the ‘M’ as he said it. “Tanir mentioned that you wished to speak to me about something regarding the horses?”
Mina’s distant stare met his attentive gaze. Sebastian didn’t flinch. “You’ll have to leave the wagon and loose the horses an hour or so up the road.”
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“The woods are too thick for a wagon to fit through, and the mountains are too steep,” she answered. “The Harrowed Woods that border Sandere and the Peaks are filled with hungry monsters who will be lured by the thought of a four-course horse meal, too.”
“I see.” Sebastian brought his hand up and tapped his fingertips lightly against his lips as he thought. “Would it be better for the horses if we left the wagon and let them loose now as opposed to when we get closer?”
Mina paused, and tilted her head to the side, caught off guard by his question.
“Have I spoken out of turn?” his voice wavered.
“No, it’s just that I’ve never had someone ask to let the horses out early,” she replied, much more candidly than she intended. She straightened her head, collecting herself. “There’d be less chance of them being attacked. Not many monsters here in these woods.”
“That settles it, then.” Sebastian addressed his crew, “Gather your belongings, we will be continuing on foot from here. Wera and Sir Gargic, unhitch the horses and send them back down the road, please.”
“Ugh, my penmanship gets so poor when we’re walking,” Enoch groaned as he slid down from the driver’s seat.
“Guess you’ll have to save your sonnets for when we’re in Lanholde,” Wera remarked as she started unbuckling one of the horse’s bridles. “We’ve got nothing but walking ahead of us now.”
Sebastian returned his attention to Mina. “It should only take us a few minutes to get packed up. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?” He reached inside his overcoat and pulled out a tea kettle and mug. Twirling the mug around his finger by its handle, he juggled the kettle with one hand and caught it by its base. Steam rose from its spout.
Not just a magic user. He was a wizard, capable enough to demonstrate his talents so casually.
Or cocky enough to make a big show over the few skills he did have.
“No,” Mina replied, tapping the canteen attached to her belt. “I have a canteen.”
She could have just left it at ‘no’.
“Of course.” He threw the tea set into the air as if he were throwing away a piece of paper over his shoulder and with a snap of his fingers they vanished.
Definitely a show-off.
“I have a few things to pack myself if you’ll excuse me,” he continued, smiling again, still wide as it shifted to a slightly different shape, then headed back into the covered wagon.
Mina watched him walk away.
If he wasn’t just a show-off, then maybe they’d make it a mile past Rabbet’s Pass.
🜁
“So, Mina, would you care to tell us a little about yourself?” Sebastian asked as they walked up the rest of the road. Considering how chatty they were while getting their shit together, Mina didn’t have any hope of a quiet walk to the Harrow’s beginning. “I’m sure there’s much more to you than living in these woods and leading expeditions through the Fallow Peaks.”
“That’s all there is to know,” she replied.
Sebastian chuckled, a rumble out from his chest that buzzed in Mina’s ears. “I’m sure that’s not true. What about ‘how you got started leading expeditions’? Doesn’t seem like a job someone just falls into.”
“It’s not.”
“Then how’d it happen for you?”
“Someone had to do it. So I did it.”
“And what did that entail?”
“Doing it.”
“Sebastian,” Tanir interjected, “perhaps it’d be best if we shared a little bit about ourselves first.” She smiled at Mina. Mina kept her gaze forward, praying that the treeline would take mercy on her and move closer on its own. “I’m the company medic, been working with Sebastian since he had a particularly rough encounter collecting basilisk venom a few summers back. Poor thing hobbled to my home half turned to stone, and insisted I travel with him on his adventures ever since.”
“You faced off against a basilisk?” Enoch piped up from the back of the pack. “When we rest for the evening, you’ll have to sit down with me and give me the full story. You too, Tanir. It should definitely be added to my records.”
“Are you volunteering to go next then, Enoch?” Sebastian asked.
“I— uh—” Enoch jogged up in front of them and turned to walk backwards as he spoke, “Well I met—”
“Don’t walk like that,” Mina interrupted. “If you fall and break something, we’ll have to leave you behind, or I’ll have to kill you.”
His steps slowed as his eyes widened. “Wh-what?”
“It’s quicker than the duskwolves tearing into your flesh and snapping your neck.” It was brutal imagery, but not entirely false.
“She’s kidding, Enoch,” Sebastian said.
Enoch’s voice hollowed. “H-how can you tell?”
“Because if you did break something, Tanir would gladly patch you up,” he reasoned.
“Though I’d give you a scolding while I did it for not listening to the expert,” Tanir added, drawing out the title expert to appease Mina’s non-existent good side. “So turn around and continue your story.”
“Right.” Enoch turned around quickly at her instruction, gathered his composure with a shudder of his shoulders, and turned his head slightly to the side to speak, “I met Sebastian on a truly fate-defining day. Wandering the Coast of Carvons, I was lost, looking for inspiration to strike.”
Wera groaned.
“And it did! As I sat on the beach, begging the great and powerful ocean to lend me some of its majesty, a geyser of sand erupted from underneath of me, sending me skyrocketing through the air. Whilst I fell from the heavens, I looked down at the ground below me. What once was a beach was now a golden temple! And upon the roof of this temple stood the great Sebastian Windenhofer, my new muse! Since that day, I have traveled alongside him, cataloging his adventures to tell the world of his greatness.”
“You know that the rest of us were on top of that temple too, right?” Wera chided before addressing Mina. “Please take his tales with a grain of salt. For an archivist, he seems to have a selective memory. I’m the cartographer. Sebastian was the first person to hire me out of school, and I’ve been traveling with him ever since.”
She looked back at Enoch and snickered, “See? Short, sweet, and to the point. Your turn, Sir Gargic.”
“Indeed.” Somehow, the knight puffed his swollen chest even bigger. “Unlike the rest of my compatriots, I am not under the employ of Master Windenhofer, but rather a liaison of The Crown of Lanholde. They’ve tasked the two of us with uncovering and collecting a few precious artifacts that The Crown has a vested interest in. We are on the last leg of this journey now.”
Everyone’s attention landed on Mina, heavy with expectation, a burdensome weight. They had offered their stories without her agreement. There was no need for her to respond. Responding would only embolden them to keep prying.
Sebastian broke the thick silence and turned to Tanir, “Did you really have to tell the basilisk story, Tani?”
“It’s one of my first and favorite memories of you,” she replied.
“You should’ve waited for winter,” Mina commented, against her better judgment. “Basilisks get sluggish and less alert in the cold. You can sneak up behind them and slice off their heads in one strike if your blade is sharp enough. Just make sure to cut about a foot below their jaw so that you don’t pierce the venom gland.”
Her unexpected advice, matter-of-fact and brutal, garnered shocked and confused expressions from everyone but the wizard. Maybe it was the right call, then. The more alien she seemed, the better off they all would be.
“Aha! You’re a hunter too!” Sebastian — frustratingly — cheered. “I knew there was more to you!”
If Mina could meaningfully scowl, she would have. The sight of his smile stabbed at the corner of her eye as she kept her gaze forward. Wizards were known to be fascinated by curiously temperamental creatures, of course it would be harder to break him.
“Now, do you have any other comments, questions, concerns for our happy little troop? Perhaps some tips on how to deal with those duskwolves you—”
“You’re all loud,” she stated. “It’ll draw things to us, and cause trouble on the Peaks.”
“Why’s that?” Tanir asked.
“Avalanches.”
“Wait,” Enoch said. “There’s going to be snow on these mountains?”
“What did you think we bought all those cold weather clothes for?” Wera scoffed.
“Lanholde has a cooler climate. I just thought winter wear was the fashion there.”
Wera sent a pleading look Sebastian’s way. “Did you really have to hire him, ‘Bastian? We could have just left him stranded on that beach.”
“True,” Sebastian shrugged, “but we need entertainment on this journey, and watching the two of you bicker could rival some of the best traveling shows.”
As those around Mina talked, and laughed, and teased each other, the surrounding trees grew in number. Their trunks twisted, more gnarled and oddly shaped, their canopy so thick it shifted the shade of the lower leaves lighter from the lack of sunlight. The group came to a halt as the road ended at a wall of forest: the start of the Harrowed Wood.
“Right. Which of you can fight?” Mina asked as she headed to the front of the pack.
All of them raised their hands.
Wera and Sir Gargic she understood but the others… “This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“We wouldn’t have gotten this far if we couldn’t hold our own, lass,” Sir Gargic said. “Trust me, I was wary myself when I first met them, but even Enoch is worthwhile in a scrap.”
“Hey!” Enoch whined.
“Cartographer, you’re with me at the front,” she instructed before they wasted more time chatting. “Medic and Archivist in the center. Wizard and Knight in the back. Listen more than you talk. Keep an eye out for anything moving that shouldn’t be. If you see something, say something. And if something does attack us, no matter what happens, stay behind me.”
Mina didn’t wait for them to finish pairing off before weaving her way through the trees. She didn’t even acknowledge Wera as she hustled to fall in place beside her.
“So,” Wera drawled after a few minutes of silence between them, “why’d you pick me for the front?”
“You’re a mapmaker,” Mina replied. She didn’t look at Wera as she spoke, her stare focused on surveying the forest in front of them. “If you make a map of the Harrow and the Peaks and take down the trail I use, I may never have to lead people through here again.”
If she had to suffer through another expedition, at least she could make this one of use.
“You seem a little young to retire,” Wera remarked. “And you need income to upkeep that cabin of yours, right? Though with seven thousand gilt an expedition, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself something a little sturdier to live in.”
She could feel the pressure of Wera studying her face, looking for something she’d never find.
“There are other ways to make money that don’t involve being bothered.” She changed the subject, “People think that there are just wolves, bears, various small-time magical beasts here. The Harrow is untouched. Nature and magic are uncontrolled and unforgiving.”
“Probably because of the runoff from the Peaks or some past geological event. I’ll make a note to have Enoch look into it.” Wera took out a small notepad and jotted something down. “If that’s the case then I’d bet there are many ways to cross over into parts of Elphyne here too, probably a bunch of fae circles, areas where the veil is thin. Would you be able to point them out when we pass them?”
“Just write down the trail taken and there’s no need to worry about any of that.”
She heard Wera’s pen skip on the page and a heavy exhale out of her nose.
There it was. She hated being talked down to.
Wera abandoned the topic and turned to basic questions about the flora and landmarks, easy enough that Mina could answer with little thought as she tuned one ear to the forest as best she could through the whispers of those walking a little too far behind her.
“Would you look at that,” Sir Gargic remarked, voice slightly muffled and strained. He talked out of the corner of his mouth in a bad attempt to be quiet. “She’s actually talking to Wera.”
“People do often talk to each other,” Sebastian said coolly, not feeding the knight’s judgment.
“Yes, but she’s so—”
“Are we talking about the Brambled Beauty?” Enoch whispered.
“The what?” Sebastian deadpanned.
“You don’t like it, sir? I’m trying to figure out the perfect way to describe such a terrifying and alluring creature.”
“Alluring?” Sir Gargic guffawed, “She’s so cold!”
“Yes! She’s cold!” Tanir added, voice peaking with a burst of realization.
Mina ground her teeth to keep from chewing them out. It was better that they didn’t know how well she could hear, and she had bore much harsher digs than their rude observations anyways.
“Just because she’s different than us doesn’t make her less of a person,” Sebastian chided. “And Tanir it’s unlike you to make assumptions about someone you’ve just met.”
“Oh no, I wasn’t trying to be cruel. I was just—”
A low gurgle deep within the ground, quiet and out of place in the harmony of forest sounds, environmental interrogation, and gossiping whispers, stilled Mina’s stride. She barred her arm across Wera’s chest, stopping the preoccupied cartographer, and held her other hand up to halt those behind them.
Their footfalls and chitchat ceased abruptly. Mina turned her head to the side, putting a finger to her lips to signal them to stay silent and wait.
She drew forth the sword that rested on her hip and crept forward, listening, eyes fixated on the forest floor. The gurgle reached her ears once more, louder and more guttural; hungry. Mina stopped, bladed her feet, and whistled a line of bird song.
“A meadowlark?” Sebastian whispered.
For a fleeting moment, she noted how keen his ear was, then a massive maw erupted out of the earth, lunging at her. Wind at her heels, Mina leaped at it, rocketing towards the toothy mouth at incredible speed, and drove her blade down through its top lip. The beast let out a terrible, gargling roar, shaking off the actual dirt and plants from its mimicking hide to reveal an ornery terramawg.
With the momentum of her jump and the leverage of her impaled sword, Mina vaulted over the bulbous amphibian’s earthen hide. She snapped her hips around, pivoting midair to face the beast’s back, and drew forth her bow in the same fluid motion.
The air stilled as Mina ran her fingers from the grip of her bow to its string. The water in the air collected, crystallized under the brush of her fingertips, forming an arrow of pure ice. She aimed for the creature’s third, slitted eye, a weak point that rested on the nape of its neck, and fired. A roaring gust of wind shook the trees, following in her arrow’s wake as it soared through the air, embedding itself deep into the terramawg’s brain.
Mina kept her focus on the beast as she descended, landing on a nearby tree bough without a glance back. The terramawg seized, the frost from her arrow glaciating its mind, and collapsed into a blubbery heap, returning to the mass of earth and withering foliage it disguised itself as.
Mina secured her bow on her back and slid down the tree’s trunk.
“Keep moving,” she said to the group as she retrieved her sword from the terramawg’s corpse.
It was as if they too had been immobilized by her ice. Sir Gargic’s hand rested on the hilt of his broadsword. Tanir had pulled out a handaxe from somewhere. Three thin daggers were laced between Enoch’s fingers like claws. A swirl of inky liquid hovered over Wera’s palm, while her other hand rested on her chest. Sebastian’s hands were coated in flame.
All of their mouths hung agape.
A dull pang pushed against Mina’s chest at the sight.
“Great Gods. Save some for the rest of us next time, will ya?” Sir Gargic shuddered.
“It was quicker if I handled it,” she stated. “Now come on. There’s more ground to cover before nightfall.” Mina turned on her heels and walked away, stepping across the terramawg’s body and taking care to drive her heels in a little harder as she did so.
“Hey, wait up!” Wera ran after her, manipulating the ink back in its vial and pulling out her notebook once again.“How were you able to tell where it was?”
Tanir pulled a stupefied Enoch along, “Come on. You should be jumping with joy. Action like that is sure to make your book even more exciting.”
“Well,” Sir Gargic remarked to Sebastian with a heavy exhale, “I guess we know why she’s so cold now.”
Sebastian hummed in acknowledgment, nothing more. Nothing until moments later, when under his breath a murmured thought slipped out.
“The wind even changed direction.”
The reverence in his tone, unheard by everyone else, bristled against the back of Mina’s neck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of The Maiden of the Barren Rime! Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read it.
If you're interested in reading more, MBR releases on May 1st and is available for pre-order now! You can order it from Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million, Amazon, and most independent bookstores!
#bookblr#writing#the maiden of the barren rime#fantasy novel#fantasy romance#fantasy books#romance novels#romance#slow burn#romantasy#words#writblr
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Doᥴtor's Assιstᥲᥒt
Summary: The Doctor needs an extra hand perfecting a new aphrodisiac.
...Well, you wont be using your hands, but that's besides the point
𓆩⟡𓆪 Pairing: Fem!Reader x Geb(Yunho)
𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Against the Tide Verse (its an Au in an AU-), Non Idolverse, Smut
𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing
𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: (Everything is Safe, Sane, and Consensual), Consentacle Tentacles (Vines), Bondage, Fingering, Consensual Sexual Experimentation, Aphrodisiac Use, Fingering, Objectification
𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)
𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 800+
𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: For any of my non AtTiny who want to know who Geb is and how he’s tied to Yunho…idk maybe read a bombastic in progress work of art that explains it all cough cough.
This was a popcorn commission from the lovely @atiny-dazzlinglight that I finished a bit ago but life happened and I didn’t post it till now. Sorry for the hold up and I hope you and all my AtTiny can enjoy~
𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪
𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld| @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet𓆩⟡𓆪
𓆩⟡𓆪©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪
⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･
“F-fuck, oh my God-”
“My, that’s an interesting reaction.”
Had it had been any other day, you might have been able to conjure up a bratty response. Instead, you look up through the tears blurring your vision, lips quivering as you angle your head up for a kiss.
“I see the purple one has a stronger effect on you than the red one from earlier did. Poor thing, you look like you’ll melt right out of my lap if I weren’t holding onto you.” Geb mused, his vines writhing along your skin, pulling and tugging you close to his chest as he angled his head down.
You whimper, a sliver of pink slipping past your parted lips as you lick at his own, successfully enticing him to kiss you.
“More.” You beg as large hands find their home on your waist, caressing and mapping out every curve, tracing every stretch mark, all while stunning ice-colored eyes remain fixed on your face.
“I wonder what would happen if we mixed them. The warmth of the Flame Lily mixing with the stimulant enhancement in the Clivia-”He went off mumbling under his breath, humming as he wrapped his arms around you, idly rubbing your clit in circles as he talked himself through formulas for more nectar combinations.
He was off in his own world, truly and completely, and it made goosebumps rise on your skin to both be doted on, and spoiled, but also to feel like you were just another object in the room as the good doctor‘s fingers pinched and rolled your clit idly.
“Please-”
“Mm, maybe if I increase the dose by a few grams, it’ll last a bit longer, I don’t like how easily the other dose wore off.” He mused, resting his chin on your shoulder. You squirm, clenching on nothing, legs twitching in his vines. He didn’t say a word to you, muttering in English and another language you didn’t understand, sorting through his thoughts.
You open your mouth to whine again, but a gasp of surprise tumbles through instead. His hand had worked its way lower as he distracted himself-and apparently you-with his mutters. Warm, slightly calloused fingers curl over your thigh, massaging for a moment, before working between your lower lips.
You jolt the moment he touches you. It seemed the purple concoction he’d given you minutes ago had left you much more sensitive than you’d expected.
The vines twitch and contrast around you, tightening and keeping your legs spread as those long fingers push into you, and you’re flustered by the way his attention snapped into focus at the whorish moan the action drew from your lips.
“O h~ It seems like I found the perfect mix, did I?” He purred, kissing up the base of your neck and smiling as he worked those fingers in and out of you, scissoring them apart as you arch your back.
You’re almost embarrassed at how wet you are, arching your back and gasping pathetically as he curled his fingers up.
“My, this is wonderful news. I believe I’ve found the perfect balance for this.” His voice rumbles through your head, and it's now that you realize his fingers were coated in the aphrodisiac he’d been muttering out. You shakily glance down, cheeks flushed as the pretty liquid falls to the floor at his feet as you remain held up by the vines, joining droplets of your essence onto the floor.
Your eyes flutter as you clench around his fingers. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he alternated between thrusting his fingers in with deep, near methodical motions, curling and searching for that delightful spot, and quick, off-beat thrusts.
“Geb~ G-geb fuck, yes yes yes nn-” its now you realize you’re drooling, your arms being pulled behind your back by his vines as a slow, deceptively calm smile stretched across his face.
“You can make a mess. We’re only just getting started.” He promised, kissing you and pushing more of the sweet-tasting nectar onto your tongue through it. You feel your body jerk and tighten, kissing him sloppily as you make a mess of his fingers, hand, and the floor.
His eyes slowly drift down to the puddle that’s left behind before he ran his hand over the top of your head, kissing the tears that had fallen from the corner of your eye away.
“Are you still alright, my love?” He rumbled, his gentle voice bouncing around in your head. You nod, body buzzing in delight as you look at him, whining in offense when he pulled those long fingers out of you.
“No-”
“-ah ah.” He quiets you, holding your gaze as he ran his tongue over the mixture of nectar and cum on his fingers.
“Like I said. We’re only j u s t getting started. Catch your breath. I still have many more to try with you.”
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Bad, bad boy.
Underground Levi x F! Reader
An: With bad boy out in less than four days, I felt inspired to write some sexy underground Levi.
Warnings: S3x, semi public s3x, dirty talk, alcohol drinking mentioned, smoking mentioned, reader has big tiddies, underground Levi, fem reader, female anatomy described, vaginal fingering, multiple org@sms, creampie, unprotected s3x.
The dimly lit bar, nestled deep within the labyrinthine underground, was a haven for those seeking solace from the harsh realities of their world. The warm glow of amber lights danced across the rough-hewn walls with a haze of cigarette smoke hanging in the air like a thin veil.
He'd been nursing his drink for the better part of an hour, lost in thought, when you walked in. Levi glanced up as he felt a familiar presence. Something about you had caught his eye weeks ago - the way you moved, the confidence in your step, your curvaceous figure that seemed to demand attention.
The beautiful woman who had been frequenting his thoughts, and this bar as often as he. Your hair fell in waves down your back, and your eyes seemed to glow in the low light. You were dressed in a form-fitting black dress that hugged your body tightly. You were always a striking contrast to the drab surroundings of the underground. He could feel his heart race as your eyes met, the connection between the two of you almost tangible.
Your eyes adjusted to the light, scanning the crowd for his familiar face. You spotted him almost immediately; Levi, the short, brooding man with piercing blue eyes and a body that could make even the most jaded of women weak at the knees. His gaze was locked on you, and you could feel it like a physical touch, sending shivers down your spine.
You smiled to yourself, taking a step forward. The sound of your high-heeled shoes clicking on the floor seemed to echo through the bar, drawing everyone's attention to you. Levi's gaze never wavered as you sauntered to towards him, feeling more and more confident with each step.
It was true that your mere presence demanded the gaze of everyone in the room. And as often as other regulars tried to court you, it was all in vain. Very rarely did you bother to give them the time of day. Most of these men were filthy, obnoxious, and rude. But there was something about Levi, something you decided was becoming too much to ignore. He was always so well kempt, so aloof. Why not indulge your curiosity? for just tonight.
Finally, you reached the bar and leaned down, your breasts grazing the surface. "Whiskey, please." You purred to the bartender, your voice low and sultry.
Without another word, you slid onto the bar stool next to him as the man behind the counter poured your drink, your knees brushed against each other as you crossed your legs, sending a wave of desire coursing through the both if you.
Levi glanced at you, his expression unreadable. He took a sip of his drink, and then another, as if to steady his nerves. "You come here often, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "But you never seem to leave with anyone." He comments.
You smirked, taking a sip of your own drink, "About as often as you." You reply, "and I could say the same, I leave whenever I can manage to slip away, can't a woman enjoy a drink without having to go home with someone?." you continued, raising an eyebrow, your own voice equally husky. He shrugs in response "I'm not judging you, there's fuck all else to do in this shit hole." He says, taking another drink.
"You're Levi, right?" You asked. You weren't sure why you were asking; you already knew who he was. You had seen him here every other night, alone at the corner of the bar. He'd drink a few whiskeys and leave, much like yourself.
The handsome, brooding man in the corner had caught your attention weeks ago, and you knew he was trouble. You had thoroughly enjoyed watching him effortlessly wipe the floor with the owner of the establishment in an arm wrestle. Each and every time you saw one another, there was an exchange of glances from across the room. An unspoken longing that was evident in his gaze.
He nodded, still not taking his eyes off you. "And you must be y/n." he said, his voice rough with desire. "I've seen you here, watching me. I didn't know if you were interested, or just curious...either way, you never try to hide the fact." He smirked.
"Well, I've heard stories about you," you admitted playfully, taking another sip of whiskey. "You're quite the legend, you and your friends, you know that? So I suppose you could say I'm both curious and interested." You tease.
Levi raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" he drawled, his voice laced with skepticism. "And what have you heard?"
You leaned closer to him, your breath fanning his cheek. "Well, I've heard you're strong, fearless, and loyal to a fault," you said, your voice lowering even further. "They say you're reckless, but I think it's just that you don't know how to back down from a fight." You trail your fingers gently over his knee and slowly up his leg, your face closer still until your lips were millimetres away from his ear. "They say you're nothing but trouble,"
Levi shot you a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. "Funny, they say the same about you." he replies, another sip.
You smiled, feeling a thrill run through you at his words. "They say I'm trouble," you admit, your voice low and sultry. "That I'm always up to something, and that you should stay away from me if you know what's good for you." You rest your head in your hand, tilting it innocently. A playful smile painted accross your lips.
Levi chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your ear. "Well, it seems we've both been given some interesting reputations," he said, his gaze locked on you. "I have to admit, I'm curious. What do you think we should do about that?"
You leaned even closer, your breath tickling his neck. "I think," you whispered, "we should see just how much trouble we can get into together." Your fingers traced circles on his thigh, and he could feel the heat emanating from your body. "Don't you agree, Levi?"
He smirked, knocking back the last of his drink and then set it down on the bar. "I think," he growled, his voice rough with desire, "that we've danced around whatever this is long enough. "
You didn't seem the least bit intimidated, which only served to fuel his curiosity and arousal further as you smirked, standing up and gesturing towards the door.
Without another word, he slid off his stool and followed you out of the bar. The cool night air hit you like a wave as you stepped onto the street. You lit up a cigarette, cupping your hands around it to shield the flickering light. Levi stood beside you, close enough that he could feel the heat from your body, the tip of the glowing red stick illuminating your face in the darkness. Levi took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as he watched you exhale smoke into the air.
After some moments, Levi followed your gaze, taking in the darkened alleyway to the left. He grabs your arm, leading you down the alleyway, dropping your cigarette in the process. "What a waste." You complain, your lips curling into a wicked grin as he presses you against the rough brick wall. He reaches out and trails his fingers down your cheek, feeling the softness of your skin beneath his touch. "Finally." He purrs before your your lips meet in a hungry, desperate kiss. Your body pressed against his, hands tangled in his hair, your tongues intertwined, mixing the tastes of alcohol and nicotine. Levi revelles in the curve of your breast against his chest. He pushes you harder against the wall, your lips still locked, bodies grinding together in a frenzy of desire.
A low, guttural groan rumbles in his chest as he presses his body flush against yours, his fingers trailing up your sides. His tongue sweeps in and out of your mouth, urgently exploring, as his kisses grow more demanding. Pulling away slightly, he murmurs against your lips, "Fuck, I've wanted this for so long..." His hands slide down to grip and lift your plush thighs, silently urging you to wrap your legs around him.
Levi lets out a shuddered groan as you wrap your legs around his waist and press yourself against his hardness. His grip tightens on your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Fucking tease," he growls, grinding his hips against you. His lips capture yours in another searing kiss, all tongue and teeth.
One hand slides up your body to cup your breast, kneading the supple flesh as his thumb teases your nipple through the thin fabric. "You have no idea what you do to me," he mutters against your lips, his voice a low, rumbling rasp.
"Oh, I do, Levi...." You moan in between kisses, taking his face into your hands, biting hip lip seductively. "I've seen the way you look at me." A moan escapes you as he tweaks your hard nipple through your dress. "You like these, don't you?" You tease breathlessly.
Levi's eyes darken with desire as he hears your seductive words. "You have no idea," he growls, his fingers kneading your breast with more fervour. His hips grind against your core, the hardness in his pants pressing deliciously against you.
With a low, rumbling chuckle, his hot breath caressing your neck. "These tits drive me wild," he murmurs, nipping at the sensitive skin on your neck. He yanks the dress down, baring your upper body to his hungry gaze. A low, guttural groan rumbles in his chest as he drinks in the sight of your ample breasts. "I'm going to enjoy every inch of you." His teeth graze your neck again, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from your lips. His other hand slides down to grip your rear, pulling you up tighter against him. "But you know what I want even more?"
You throw your head back against the wall and moan as you feel his hard cock through his trousers rubbing against your dampened cunt. "Mmmph, I can take a pretty good guess." you say, rolling your hips again against him suggestively, tightening your legs around his waist.
He smirks as his grip on your hips tightens further, his eyes narrowing with predatory hunger. "I want to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, milking me dry." He hikes up your dress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging them aside. "Can you handle that?" he growls, his voice thick with desire. His lips crash against yours again, his tongue plundering your mouth as his hands roam your body.
You nod breathlessly. "Even if I can't, don't stop...." You purr.
Levi's eyes flash with dark desire at your breathless response. His fingers tease your slick folds, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. "Good girl," he murmurs against your skin, nipping at your neck and travelling diwn to take one of your nipples into his mouth. Without warning, he plunges two digits deep into your quivering heat, curling them to stroke your most sensitive spot. His thumb presses against your swollen clit, rubbing in firm, tantalizing circles. "You're so fucking wet for me, I can't wait to bury my cock in this tight little pussy."
You didn't make a habit of hooking up with men in bars, but something about him made you weak in the knees and you were right to follow your intuition. You bit your lip in an effort to suppress a moan.
Levi's eyes flash with wicked delight at your muffled moans. "Don't be shy now y/n, let me hear you," he growls, his fingers picking up pace as they pump in and out of your slick heat. His thumb presses harder against your swollen nub, drawing out more delicious whimpers. Leaning in close again, he captures your lips in another hungry kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure. "You feel so fucking good. I'm going to make you come so hard on my fingers before I split you open on my cock."
"W-what a dirty mouth." You hiss, your eyes rolling upwards blissfully, fingers gripping the undercut at the back of his head harder. He really is as strong as they say, gripping your ass effortlessly and pinning you against the wall while finger fucking you, what a fucking treat.
Levi's lips curve into a devious smirk at your breathless taunt. "Looks to me like you love it," he growls, his fingers curling and thrusting with renewed fervor. "You're fucking soaked. Now come for me, nice and hard." He grinds his palm against your sensitive clit, his piercing gaze fixed intently on your face as he works to bring you to the edge. A man had never made you cum so fast before, Levi's fingers curl and stroke relentlessly as your orgasm crashes over you, your entire body shuddering against him. He swallows your desperate moans with a searing kiss, drinking in every quiver and twitch of your pussy around his digits. "That's it, let it all out," he murmurs roughly against your lips. When your climax finally begins to ebb, he slowly withdraws his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. "Delicious," he growls, his eyes smoldering with dark desire.
Levi's eyes are fixated on you as he watches you guide his hand to your lips before you lick and suck his fingers clean. A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest. "Fuck, you're insatiable," he growls, pressing his body flush against yours. His hands grip your hips again, pulling you snug against his straining erection.
"I need to be inside you," he rasps, his hands gripping your hips possessively. In one swift motion, his fingers deftly work to unfasten his pants, freeing his aching hardness. "Hold onto me," he growls, guiding the tip of his cock to your slick, quivering entrance. With a sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, a guttural moan tearing from his throat. His eyes fluttering shut as your tight, soaking pussy envelops his aching length. A strangled groan tumbles from his lips as he stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his impressive cock, "So fucking tight..."
Levi's hips begin piston relentlessly, driving his thick cock into your sopping pussy with bruising force. Each powerful thrust punched the breath from your lungs, his cock plumbing your depths. The cold brick wall pressed against your back, but it only seemed to heighten the sensation of being so close to him. He grunted and growled with primal satisfaction, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "That's it, fucking take it all," he rasped, his voice dripping with lust. "Your greedy cunt is loving this...." His pace grew more erratic as he neared the edge, desperate to find his own release.
Levi's grip on your hips remains tight, pounding into you with deep, relentless thrusts. His breath comes in ragged gasps, mingling with your desperate moans.
Levi's calloused hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the alleyway. His steel-gray eyes blaze with primal hunger, locked on your face as he drinks in every pleasured moan and gasp that tumbles from your lips.
"Cum all over my cock, I want to feel you dripping down my thighs." He states as his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in circles with just the right amount of pressure.
"Levi," You moan breathlessly, arching your back as your body tensed, ready to explode.
Levi felt your muscles clench around him, your walls rippling as they contracted, your breath hitching in your throat. He thrust deeper, harder, faster as he felt the hot rush of your release, the tightening of your inner muscles around him. He groaned into your neck, feeling your body shudder with the force of your orgasm.
Levi's eyes are fixated on you as you convulse around his throbbing length, your desperate cries of pleasure sending a jolt of primal satisfaction through him. With a feral growl, he redoubles his efforts, slamming his hips against yours at a punishing pace as he chases his own release.
Levi leans in, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss as his rhythm begins to falter, his muscles tensing as the thick ropes of his release spill deep inside you. "Fuck... Levi!" you whimper against his lips, his hips grinding into you as he empties himself completely.
Levi's taut frame shudders, his fingers digging into your hips as he rides out the aftershocks of his release. His steel-gray eyes are molten with satisfaction, his usually stoic features etched with unbridled bliss.
You both remained there for a moment, panting, your chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The alleyway seemed to swirl around you as you came to your senses. You leaned your head back against the rough brick wall, feeling the coolness seep into your flushed skin.
"So," mischievous glint in your eye, "you ready for more trouble?"
Levi grinned, his gaze travelling up and down your body. "Only if it comes in the form of you."
You smirk playfully, feeling a thrill of excitement run through you. "My place, it's not far from here." You managed to say between ragged breaths. "Lead the way," he said, his voice rough with desire.
You laughed the sound low and husky. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear. "Come on then, you bad, bad boy. Let's go."
#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi aot#levi x y/n#captain levi x reader#levi attack on titan#levi smut#levi ackerman x reader#fanfiction smut#aot smut#underground levi#underground levi x reader
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Painting Faces
Navigation
Graves has no choice but to be present on the day Makarov addresses the force, but he keeps to himself while blending in. Makarov doesn’t bother himself with Graves expecting him to stay in line. At least at first.
Then he notices your empty desk. Graves had cleared it of your personal affects, including photos and personal documents.
“We’re missing an officer?” He wonders aloud while Graves files through some reports.
“Officers Graves, you’re missing a partner?” He asks.
“I am perfectly happy being single.” He replies with a good hearted smirk. “The desk is open, we had an officer resign.”
“I see. Very well.” Makarov walks away before Graves can try to make another smart comment. Graves sits up straighter in his chair though.
“That… that is impressive.” Gaz comments as he enters the warehouse seeing the mural you were working on for Los Vaqueros. You look down at him from where you were perched on a railing of a sort of cat walk.
“Thought a cowboy motif would be fitting. Alejandro told me there were good men and women who died here during a raid. Wanted to honour them.” You exclaim. You roll your shoulders and arms hearing a few cracks. By now your bruises were yellow, nearly healed. Your pants are covered in paint, and you old hoodie was warm enough to keep your from freezing in the dropping temperatures. That and Gaz’s very kind delivery of tea. He climbs up to you on the cat walk, and hands you the thermos. Just holding it warms your fingers in your fingerless gloves. He leans against the railing with you admiring your work.
“Figured a mural was the least I owed them. Can’t imagine Soap and Alejandro don’t have some tension going on.” You say, gingerly sipping your tea. Yep you still burned your tongue.
“Speaking of them… Alejandro and Rudolfo have been recovering from a failed raid.” Gaz says. So it begins.
“Makarov.” You say. Gaz nods, shoving a hand in his pocket sipping his own drink. Things were going to be flipped on their head and spun like a top. It would take some time getting used to. Thankfully the 141 was making the transition for you as easy as possible. The nights your father spent with them you were always a part of the conversation. One night there was a promise made to help take care of you if your father couldn’t.
“Ran into Alex at the shop, apparently he found a smaller piece of yours, with I think he said a pillow fight.” Gaz mentions trying to change the subject. You smirked at that knowing the piece he meant. You side eye Gaz who returns it, and you toast your cups. You take a sip and think for a moment.
“Has Soap said anything?” You ask Kyle. The two of you hadn’t really talked since the night you needed safety. Even then it had been brief and awkward.
“It’s how he is.” Gaz says. He’s taken notice of how you two have interacted and Soap talking about you less than he had. “It’s not that he hates you, I think he needs to talk to you. Simple as that.”
“So this is where you’ve been.” A voice came from below and behind them. They both turn to see a face they weren’t expecting.
“Rudolfo. Come on up mate.” Gaz says, offering the bruised man, a hand up. Rudolfo eases himself up through the railings and looks up at your work in progress. He gives a friendly smirk.
“Alejandro will like this for sure.” He says.
“Least I could do after everything. How is he?” You ask, looking up at Rudolfo.
“Nothing can kill Alejandro, except Alejandro.” Rudolfo says. “Unfortunately, nothing can get him to rest either. He’s worried about more drug shipments getting past us when we can be stopping them and destroying them.”
“Sounds like Alejandro.” Gaz says taking another sip of his drink. You stare at your work while taking a sip and think for a bit. The three of you all stand there in silence for a bit. You keep asking yourself, how would dad do it? He could break cases open, getting gangsters like Soap and Gaz to bring the hammers he needed for it. Now Makarov was in the picture too. Which meant needing to hide the hammers right after and hope he would bring glue to repair it.
“Could tell him.” You suggest looking at Gaz. It takes him a minute to realize who you’re referring to. Graves was an insider now. Graves also had to be removed from the case after Makarov returned. Gaz considers it and Rudolfo listens. They were informed about Graves and his involvement as well. It was risky, but if you couldn’t be your father, maybe Graves could step up in a way.
Kyle looks at Rudy. “You know when the next shipments are coming in?”
“We have guesses. So far they’ve been using fishing boats, so they don’t have to claim cargo.”
“They’d need a warrant to start searching.” Kyle adds.
“What if they got one?” You ask. “I mean… who’s to say it’s only one fishing company.”
“We don’t hit innocent.” Kyle points out. “But…you may be on to something.”
“If proof of illegal activity was brought forward to the company itself, investigations would have to start. If Graves is at the forefront…” Rudolfo trailed off.
“Where do we start?” You ask, trying to keep the smug look off your face. You may get to see them in full action.
“We first get Alejandro’s permission. Then we get more information from Laswell. After that we prep for the raid.” Kyle explains.
“I can arrange that. Will have to bring him to see this.” Rudolfo says, gesturing to the mural.
“Wait until it’s done.” You say smiling. “Thinking of adding something a little extra.”
You head back with Gaz to the hideout. He’s teasing you for all the paint you got on yourself.
“At least it’s not on the scarf.” You say stepping inside.
“At least it’s not still wet, you’d have to take your clothes off outside so you don’t track paint.” Kyle teases as you take off your boots. You notice Soap leaning on the fire escape outside. Kyle just gives you a nudge and no words. You take your boots off and carry them to the back door leading out to Soap. You put them back on to join him.
“May I join you?” You ask. He looks back and nods. You step outside and sits on the steps, rubbing yours hands together, trying to warm them.
It’s silent between you two again. There’s just the faint sound of wind and the usual traffic down below.
“Saw Rudolfo today.” You say, squirming on the step.
“How is he?” He asks looking over to you.
“He’s doing better. Still a little rough. Alejandro is getting restless about the shipments though.”
“You don need to worry bout that.” Soap says, facing back to the streets.
“I am worried about it, because it’s what I should be worried about.” You say.
“You don. You’re not a cop anymore.” Soap exclaims. It doesn’t sting as much as it once had.
“…cop or not this is my home now.”
“You have a hom-“ Soap starts but you interrupt him.
“No I don’t. This is my home now.” You say looking up, with him looking at you now. “This city is my home. It was my dad’s home too. If the cops aren’t gonna fight for it, then who else will? I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for an opportunity anymore. You gave me one, I’m not letting it go again.”
Soap looks at you for a while. “What opportunity?”
“When you let me tag on your turf.” You say.
Soap thinks for a minute, and then scoffs. “Stubborn as your old man.” He says.
“Nothing like my old man.” You respond.
“Not at all.” Soap says sarcastically. You smile.
“I really am sorry for lying. Throughout that whole time I was debating whether to even report anything or tell you what I was doing.” You say, rubbing your neck.
“Why didn ya?” He asks, turning and leaning back against the railing. You shrug.
“Felt more at home here.” You admit
“At home? What home?” He asks.
“With you and everyone you introduced me too. Barely known Ghost that long and I feel safer around him than by myself.” You say. Soap smirks at that. Safer around Ghost of all people? That’s a new one.
“I knew you might’ve been a cop. Just hoped ya weren’t.” Soap admits. “Let’s get inside. Gonna snow soon I bet.”
You both go back inside, feeling more relaxed around each other than before. Price steps in the front door just as you two step in from the back. He’d been popping in and out the past week or so never staying for long. This time he was grumbling something.
“Ye aight Price?” Johnny asks.
“My own deliveries are backed up for the bar.” He exclaims. “Graves came by as well to tell me, in person.”
You wonder if Graves did it to maintain cover or to ask Price how you were. You don’t voice it.
“Nikolai can handle it but it’s clear they’re trying to make money difficult. Farah came by, saying a few real estate companies were scoping her neighbourhood. A couple kids threw water balloons at them.”
“I like those kids.” You comment, imagining soaked suits and irritated scowls.
“Alex is on damage control there.” Price says, finally setting his jacket aside. He stepped into the kitchen, stretching and taking a beer from the fridge while you and Johnny join him. You sit up on the bar stool again.
“Makarov is stretching out. He wants more than just us, he wants everyone.” Price states. Johnny leans against the counter arms crossed, Kyle joining at the bar.
“Why now?” Johnny asks. “Could’ve struck b’fore.”
The question is weighty and is left in the air for some time. If your dad was keeping Makarov under control why did he leave?
“Because of me?” You suggest. Johnny, Kyle and Price both look at you. They consider it, but there’s not much to support your answer. “Maybe… he can manipulate the police easier because Graves knows me, and wants me safe. If Graves acts out, Makarov can put me in the crossfire but now I’m not so he thinks it’s easier for him to fuck with the system…maybe?” You try to reason.
“Not entirely out of question.” Kyle mutters.
“Something to consider.” Price says. “We can’t just go at it expecting to find something we don’t know is even there. For now we support where we’re needed, and test waters. Makarov having the police on his side is a problem, but the question is how hard he uses them.”
“Speaking of, we got a tip from Rudolfo. Alejandro may want our help on a drug raid.” Kyle adds. “We need to figure out where the shipments are coming from though. Maybe try to convince Graves to get a warrant.”
Both Johnny and Price went quiet at the mention of Graves again.
“I hate to play devil’s advocate and I know you don’t like it, but Phil is the only one we have directly on the force. We can lead him to where the problems are and book it when he gets close.” You say.
“They’re not wrong.” Kyle agrees.
“Something we will consider.” Price offers. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the exact shipments, and then deciding what to do. It’s Alejandro’s operation, we go through him first.”
Ghost came in and everyone turned to look at him. In his arms is a bundled up hoodie while he shivers in a long sleeved shirt on. You get up quickly, hurrying to take the bundle from him. By now you’d seen Simon with enough animals to know he puts great value in them. Sometimes over himself, hence the hoodie not on his back.
When you take the hoodie you bite your tongue trying not to awe at the tiny, furry, adorable, cute, wittle bundles of claws and teeth in your arms. You stare at them and look up with your eyes at Simon, who is brushing the remains of snow off himself.
“Take em to your room, get a blanket.” He orders. No one else matters but these kittens, which you take to your bedroom without a word.
While you are getting a blanket and a small shoe box for them to stay in, Ghost gets a different hoodie to help him warm up. The mangy black cat, hops on to his shoulder while everyone else just watches.
“Congratulations?” Johnny asks Simon as you come back into the kitchen.
“Keep them from their shitty father.” Simon grumbles. As he leans against the counter the cat hops off his shoulder and on to the counter. “It’ll give the kid something to do when we’re out.”
“I thought I was coming with you guys.” You pipe up.
“We will think about it.” Price says, sounding a bit like a dad.
“I’m not a child.” You grumble.
“If you do come on the raid it won’t be like arresting someone, it’s shoot to kill and keep your eyes open the whole time. No one is walking with side arms, they have uzis and AKs. Some fire wild too.” Kyle reminds you.
“I’ve done a raid before.” You try convincing them.
“You’re stayin.” Johnny says with finality. It’s not out of anger or irritation. It’s meant as words of warning, that this was bigger than what you’d encountered and he didn’t want you in the line of fire. Literally. You drop your head with some swallowed disappointment. You want to help. But you don’t want them worrying about you.
“One condition?” You ask. Johnny shifts his posture to listen.
“Okay two conditions… first one is all four of you have to come back after that raid regardless of what happens, preferably with Alejandro and Rudolfo too.” You stare each one down. Not very intimidating but they’re lenient.
“What’s the second condition?” Ghost asks, their silence an agreement to your first condition. You look directly at Simon.
“I get to name at least one of them.”
Alex steps into his small home, hanging his keys on the hook. As he shuts the door, the kitchen light turns on down the hallway. Very carefully, Alex turns the lock on his door, pulling out his side arm. He stalks toward the kitchen until he hears a familiar voice.
“I needed bandages…”
Alex sighs and holsters his gun before going to a hall closet and getting a small first aid kit.
“If it’s worse than I think, I’ll drag you to hospital.” Alex warns and enters the kitchen, seeing Farah with a few scratches. She’d come to him with worse. Her clothes are still damp too. Alex has to hold a laugh picturing Farah throwing a water balloon at a bunch of realtors.
“You want anything to drink?” He offers setting the kit down. “Was gonna make myself some food and then sleep. Now I have company.”
Farah opens the kit and gets the cotton and alcohol.
“Happy to provide.” Farah says as she starts cleaning. Alex starts making a sandwich for Farah as well. Farah was a good person, defending her home and neighbourhood. Alex was still on the force but with the new chief commissioner he was tempted to resign. Take some security job to pay off bills. Graves had been asking him to stay on though. With the sketchy land deals going on by Milena Romanova, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Alex sets a plate down in front of Farah and he sits by with a plate of his own.
“You didn’t have t-“
“I wanted to, now eat.” He says pushing the kit aside. Alex and Farah had an odd relationship. Farah would often drop in like this. Alex had made it a habit to do the same on her every so often.
“I need a favour.” Farah admits after a couple bites.
“Only one?” Alex teases. “Go on.”
“There’s an artist I want to hire.” Farah explains. Alex looks at Farah.
“Need a loan?” He asks.
“No. I need you to look the other way. A small peaceful protest to get the realtors to leave us alone.” Farah explains.
“You have an artist in mind?” Alex asks. Farah gives him a smile that gets covered by an another bite of sandwich.
“This is really good.” Farah says through a mouthful.
“Thanks.” Alex says chuckling.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz
#john soap mactavish#cod au#task force 141 x reader#simon ghost riley#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#gn reader#phillip graves#vladimir makarov#farah karim#alex keller#cod gangster au#gangster au#rudolfo parra#yep it’s a series now#again how is this still going#i love it
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Where do I know you from? 3/?
Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.
PART ONE PART TWO
PART THREE
Rooster Nine arrives in chef whites, which he guesses answers the question of what he does for a job, although he’s getting asked a whole raft of questions by Three and Five.
“What are you two writing down?”
“Well, every Bradley here has a Jake in their Universe. I think we’re meant to find you yours.”
“We don’t need to find him. I know where he is.”
“You’ve met him already?”
Jake stares at them both.
“Considering you’re both meant to be super smart, you’re thick as bricks. I recognized you all,” Jake says, waving his hand at the accumulating Roosters, who seem to be arriving at an even faster rate. “Of course I’ve met him. I’ve saved his life. We see each other nearly every day.”
Rooster Three and Five exchange looks.
“And you’re not together with him?” Rooster Five asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow and of course he looks exactly like Rooster, but it’s not him and Jake scowls.
“I think I’d know,” Jake snaps.
“Maybe that’s why we’re here. To get them together. Me and my Jake had to swap bodies before we figured our shit out.”
“It’s as good a theory as any,” Rooster Three concedes and Jake pulls a face.
“I don’t need alternate versions of my… work colleague, trying to hook me up with him,” Jake says, and then wonders if that even made sense.
“Bob would probably know.”
Jake is about to ask why Bob would have any idea about this kind of thing but the door is swinging open and he knows it’s going to be yet another Rooster.
“Oh wow… what is going on here. It’s like there’s a rip in time and space and only I can use it. This is super weird. Hey Jake…”
The way he greets Jake and says Jake’s name is syrupy warm and a few of the other Roosters snort in amusement. Rooster Ten is stepping close and giving him a hug, brushing a kiss across his cheek and Jake pulls back.
“What the fuck man. I don’t know you.”
“Bet you want to though.”
“No. Apparently his Bradley is just a work colleague.”
Nearly every Rooster in the close vicinity scoffs and this many Bradshaw’s are really starting to get on his nerves. Rooster Ten rests his hands on his shoulders, massages them and as nice as it might feel Jake is not having it.
“Get your hands off me.”
Immediately Rooster Ten is backing away, hands up in easy supplication, although his eyebrow is quirked in that same challenging way Rooster has and he has to resist the urge to punch it off and he needs to calm down and deescalate the situation. He grits his teeth.
“Surely your Jake wouldn’t want you, uh, touching another Jake.”
“Oh, I know for a fact that he’d be more than okay with this. We have discussed this fantasy in detail.”
Jake doesn’t even know how to begin addressing that, just turns toward Three and Five, because despite their nerding-out over the science they haven’t tried to hit on him. Other then Three giving him a wink, which compared to the other shit happening is completely benign. Still, Rooster Ten doesn’t seem too put-off, settles in the chair next to Jake and just watches, accepts the beer from Rooster Six.
Rooster Ten went to USNA. He’s the first Rooster here who went to USNA and Jake wonders if that’s what makes him more confident. Except all of the Roosters are confident in their own ways. Of course, that’s when Rooster Eleven arrives, and he looks like he’s wearing body paint, he doesn’t have the same bulk as some of the others, but he’s still well muscled. Jake can tell under the body-paint-esque workout attire that Rooster Eleven is wearing.
Rooster Ten reaches over and closes his jaw, dabs at the corner of Jake’s mouth with a napkin.
“Just a work colleague huh?” Rooster Ten murmurs, and Jake gives him the finger.
“What do you do?” Rooster Three asks the new arrival.
“I’m a dance teacher. Are you documenting all this?”
“For science,” Rooster Three and Five answer and Rooster Eleven just nods, shrugs his shoulders easily. He seems very relaxed.
“And is Tom Kazansky alive or dead…”
“Dead… what kind of question is that?”
“We’re just trying to figure out all the potential pivot points of the timelines. So is Maverick with Penny in your Universe then?”
“No. He’s with Beau.”
“Who?”
“Ah, Admiral Simpson.”
Jake is glad he isn’t the only one spitting their drink out in surprise.
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Scar - Chapter Five
PAIRING: Jolly Karlsson x Sam (ofc)
What if your teenage daughter's fantasy became your reality?
Summary: Samantha surprises her daughter, Lyric, with tickets to see her favorite band for her sixteenth birthday. What's supposed to be one the best days of her daughter's life, also becomes hers.
CW: none, just dadomens trying to find momomens
happy bday jolly💛
Masterlist
word count: 2.3k
Sam’s chest tightens as Jolly’s carefree laughter fills her car. It feels like an eternity since someone other than Lyric was sharing the front seat with her, let alone another man. She tried the online dating thing– but with her crazy work schedule and Lyric’s after-school and weekend practices– it doesn’t leave her much time for dating.
“So how long have you lived here?” Jolly’s sudden and intriguing question softens the pressure in her chest. No other man has asked me that before.
“I grew up here, but left when I graduated high school,” she sucks in a shaky breath as she continues. “Fate would have it that I would come back when James did; we always knew we wanted to raise a family here.”
“James sounds like a really great guy and a wonderful father to Lyric,” Jolly says softly as Sam pulls into the hotel parking lot.
“He was the best at everything,” she confesses as she pulls her SUV into the nearest parking spot to park. “The best father, the best handyman around the house, a supportive husband…” Jolly watches as her green eyes shimmer bright before a tear wells and cascades down her cheek.
Swiftly, he unbuckles slipping from the seat belt to lean closer to Sam. His hands hesitate as he ponders if she is comfortable with him touching her but when he catches the small nod he moves in to cup her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with a gentle brush of his thumbs.
“Thank you,” her whisper fills the space between them.
He would give anything to take away her pain and sorrow, but all he can muster is a small smile that he hopes conveys how he feels. As Jolly begins to pull away, he finds moist lips pressed against his. He tenses to the touch at first but when she parts her lips for him, he’s done for. He leans in, mouth hungry, tongue ready to explore more. He licks at her bottom lip, threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her in closer. And he stops. Shit, what if I went too fast? What if I misread the signs? Wait, did she actually kiss me?
Something stirs in Sam when Jolly touches her face. His hands are so warm and comforting that the tears she was holding back finally break. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in her stomach as Jolly leans forward; the scent of him overwhelms her senses. Before her brain can stop her heart, she leans. His warm lips against hers sparks electricity down her spine. She can’t get enough. She melts into Jolly when he runs his fingers through her strands. His tongue is moist against her bottom lip and she is more than ready to let him in. Her lips still burn when he abruptly pulls away. When her eyes pop open she finds Jolly with a pained expression on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “Did I overstep?” His thick accent accentuates the concern in his voice.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Sam reassures the Swede with a smile.
Suddenly, the tall guitarist yawns, stretching as best he can in the small space, causing Sam to do the same. “Wanna go up to my room?” With a shy giggle and a playful punch to Jolly’s arm, Sam agrees.
Jolly opens the door of his room with a sweeping gesture of his arm, “Welcome to my crib.” His husky tone turns into a snicker when Sam smacks him in the arm as she steps by.
“You’re a dork,” she huffs a laugh as she enters the room.
“I know,” he winks at her before threading his fingers to hers and leading her further into the room. There’s a large white bed against a navy blue accent wall and across from it hangs a flat-screen TV. An L-shaped couch fills the space under the window next to the bed.
“This is where the magic happens so make yourself comfy, Sam. There’s water and booze in the mini fridge and the TV remote is on the bedside table. I’m going to take a quick shower.” She makes a small noise in understanding but doesn’t move from the window as she takes in the view of her small hometown. The shrill of the tap turning on pulls her from her nostalgia so she makes her way to the bed. She steps out of her beloved Converse, settles into the covers, and starts to scroll through the TV guide.
Loud knocking stirs Sam awake. Rolling to her side, something digs into her stomach. Her eyebrows scrunch together when she finds the remote strangled in a death grip. Way to go, Sam, you fell asleep clutching onto the remote, like an old grandpa.
Groaning, she slides out of bed and stretches rubbing her neck. Fuck me. I’m going to need to see my chiro on Monday. I hope she can squeeze me in. God, I hope Jolly doesn’t think I’m lame. Wait, did we kiss-
“You’re awake!” Jolly’s bright voice breaks through Sam’s post-nap brain fog. When she turns her head following the sound she gets lightheaded. Swaying slightly, she grips the arm of the couch and settles herself onto the furniture, hoping Jolly didn’t notice. If he did, he was gracious enough not to say anything as he continued. “The guys are heading out to see a movie, want to come?”
“Sure!” she says without hesitation, ecstatic to spend more time with Jolly. But soon insecurity takes its rightful place in the pit of her stomach. “But let me fix my hair real quick,” she rushes by him, nerves bubbling in her stomach– but when Jolly grips her wrist, it’s not forceful, but just enough that she stops dead in her tracks. The setting sun casts a warm glow on Jolly’s long brunette hair forming a halo of light around him.
“You look beautiful, Samantha.” Jolly takes a step closer closing the space between them. He tucks in a lock of hair behind her ear before brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Sam feels her cheeks warm to the delicate touch and finds herself leaning into him. Looking up at him, his expression is soft- the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at her. She sneaks a glance at his lips and back at his eyes hoping he didn’t notice. She wants him to kiss her, wants to feel more of his touch, wants to feel love again– but her old heart is so scared. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as Jolly leans down, willing her eyes shut she balls her shaking hands into fists. “Stay”, she tells herself “don’t run.” His hot breath is warm against her cheek. Her heart feels like it’s going to burst from her chest– suddenly she jumps when there’s a knock at the door.
“Hey lovebirds, you two ready?” Noah yells from the other side of the door. Sam’s cheeks flame red at the nickname and she curls into herself overcome with shyness.
“He’s an ass, isn’t he,” Jolly chuckles squeezing Sam’s shoulders. Her small smile spreads into a wide grin, “yeah he is.” He pulls her into him and she unfurls her arms to hug him back. For a few breaths, they remain as her heartbeat steadies, the scent of him soothing her senses and her nerves.
“Ready?” he hums as he twirls his fingers in her hair.
“Yeah,” she says softly pulling from the embrace. This time she doesn’t stop herself from threading her fingers into his as they walk to the door. When the pair reach the lobby Sam finds the rest of the band lounging on various couches and chairs and Matt is pacing.
“The Uber is late,” Matt groans pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll drive!” Sam chimes in as she squeezes Jolly’s hand despite her insecurity still looming in the back of her mind.
Matt stops dead in his tracks, “Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I'm sure,” she lets go of Jolly’s hand to walk past Matt. “Come on.” She waves over her shoulder for the band boys to follow her. Jolly meets up with Sam to open the car door for her. Before he ducks out he pecks a kiss to her cheek. She giggles as she settles in the driver's seat.
“Alright boys, buckle up please.” She grins, looking up at the rearview mirror as Matt, Noah, Nick, Nicholas, and Bryan pile In. A mutual groan rumbles through the car. “Yes mom,” they grumble and groan in unison.
There are a scattering of families and couples in the theater as the pair stroll in behind the rest of the guys. Sam is about to slide in beside Nicholas when Jolly grips the back of her elbow causing her to stop.
“Come on,” he nods his head to the top dark corner row of seats which happen to be vacant.
Butterflies dance in her stomach as they ascend the dimly lit staircase. It’s impossibly warm when she sits down and Jolly follows suit, their knees brushing together when he hands her, her drink. Sam takes a few sips hoping the soda will quench her thirst and give her some relief; unfortunately, it does not.
As the opening credits start, Jolly’s heart pounds in his chest as the opening credits start. He’s been waiting anxiously for this movie for as long as Nicholas has been ranting and raving about it. The one show all of them seemed to like and a tour favorite, so when Noah mentioned the movie, he could only hope that Sam would want to come too. In the corner of his eye, he sees her start to fidget with the popcorn bag nervously. Absentmindedly, he places his hand on her thigh as the scene starts.
Sam busies her hands by eating some popcorn, almost too aware of how she chews, she grips the bag a little tighter when suddenly Jolly’s hand rests on her thigh. Her body tenses to the touch. She wants to say something, to ask him to move his hand, but instead, she goes against every fiber of her being when she sets down the popcorn and places her hand on his.
“Oh, sorry,” Jolly jumps slightly when their hands touch, pulling his hand away. When Sam looks up at him, concern furrows his brows and creases the corners of his eyes. His eyes look nothing like her late husband’s and at this moment Sam has come to terms with it. She finally gives in to what her heart has been telling her all along. The pads of her fingers graze his cheek and for a few heartbeats, they exist in the space between them where nothing else matters. Her gaze drifts to his plump lips and back to his eyes.
She nods, silently saying Yes! Please! I want to kiss you! Before pulling him in closer, their lips just barely touching. Sam squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips onto his. When Jolly kisses her back, it’s soft yet cautious. She tilts her head, clasping his head between her hands to pull him in. A giggle erupts from her throat when his stubble brushes against her cheek, making Jolly pull away slightly. He puts a finger to her lips just as a nearby shh echoes from a few seats away.
Jolly leans in, “I have a way to keep you quiet,” he whispers in her ear, his hot breath and suggestive tone send a shiver spider crawling down her spine. His lips ghost her cheek before replacing the finger to her lip. She invites the heat of the kiss, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as his tongue parts her lips. When the pair are both breathless, he places a chaste kiss on her cheek. He kisses the tops of her knuckles before they find their resting place on his thigh. The world melts away in their soft embrace, hands entwined and hearts beating as one.
Sam blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the theater lights flickering on. Sure she has no idea what happened in the movie, but she couldn’t care less as long as she was next to Jolly. She doesn’t know what will happen next between them and right now she’s okay with that. Jolly gathers their trash and she follows closely until she can slide her hand back into his. When they reach the other guys outside, she spots them climbing into their Uber. Her stomach drops when the reality hits her that Jolly will be leaving too. She can’t help when a lump forms in her throat and her eyes prick with tears.
“It’s time-” Jolly stops dead in his tracks when he spots the tears cascading down her cheeks. Before his feet step off the curb he turns and pulls her in tight, arms wrapping around her waist.
“I got you,” he says low and calm as she starts to shake. “I don’t want this night to end either, Samantha. These last few days have been some of the best days on tour and I can’t thank you enough. This is not goodbye, ok?”
He pulls back to wipe away her tears, caressing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Smile, pretty girl,” he smiles when she giggles and pink washes over her cheeks. “We play only a few hours away tomorrow and I snagged you VIP if you want to come. I know it’s a school night but I still wanted to offer.”
Sam doesn’t hesitate when she wraps her arms around his neck in excitement. She knows she will be dead tired come Monday morning-thankfully just an in-service day before the end of the school year- so she can show up a little late.
“Yes, yes I’ll be there!”
“I can’t wait!” Jolly leans down for one more kiss. “Good night, Sam.”
“Good night, Jolly,” she says before kissing him back. She watches as the full moon illuminates his path to the others. She smiles to herself, smitten- a feeling she hasn’t felt in so long.
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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.
It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms.
Worse?
It was short.
Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans.
The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at.
“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming.
Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme.
“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym.
Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.
‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’
“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel.
They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.
Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give.
Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.
(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.
Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures.
The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.)
Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.
Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.
Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds.
“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious. “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”
He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.”
To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was.
None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.
Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it.
Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.
Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome.
“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again.
A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.
“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!”
Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction
“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”
“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!
“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!”
As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.
Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s.
“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!”
It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.”
Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise.
Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for.
(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.)
The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con.
It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.
Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.
Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.
“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.”
He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.
Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.
(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)
“You know who doesn’t look scary?”
Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of;
“Steve!”
Eddie’s left eye twitched.
‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.
Cartoon squawking and all.
“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.”
So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.
“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”
Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.
There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this.
Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game.
One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all.
(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”
“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.)
“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly.
“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!
“Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?”
He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.
“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of a few silly images.”
A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room.
“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!”
This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air.
Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!
He was right!
Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.
“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking.
Because King Steve? Play D&D?
'Ha!'
“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!”
“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.
Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed.
Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.)
The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway.
As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.
“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.
"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.”
Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table
Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.”
The dick.
“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.
He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.
Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.
#Door Prize#Alt S4#pre steddie#when is it not lmao#Holiday fic#well this is more of a warm up but it has another part#Ive just given up the WIPS are running my life#this is brought to you by a local high schools massive holiday bazaar I went too that had cute band kids running around#could not play music though bless them#I did FINALLY get re employed so things are slowing down but Im hoping to post one more chapter of SOMETHING before the end of dec#and probably the other half of this warm up shes short#steven harrington#eddie munson#baking#special appearance by Adopt a Jocks Tiff#Robin pops up in this in the other half#Dustin Henderson#and his scheming#Steve can bake#0o0 fanfics#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#steddie
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write to me
#I drew this when I was VERY stressed (days ago)#bee doodles#Tuvok/Janeway#Janeway/Tuvok#st voyager#st voyager art#letter writing and the preparation of warm beverages#Janeway & Tuvok seem like they'd call each other things like 'my other half' and 'my moral center' and 'my dearest companion' but then you#ask if they're dating and they're like Noooo. Absolutely not. and they're not but they are coming into each other's rooms at night#because neither of them can sleep well and talking about Mark & T'Pel while they lean against one another (holding the warm mugs instead of#hands - that comes later when they can pretend that maybe they were asleep)#because they're the only ones who know Mark & T'Pel - you're the only part of my old life that's here and that's a comfort and that's a#tragedy (because I care about you too much to want you here but I need you too much to wish you were anywhere else - and maybe I'm too#selfish too and too afraid to be alone) and when they're talking about Mark & T'Pel they can ignore the fact that they're leaning against#each other and how good the weight feels and how much their chests ache and how much they want more. Not even sex or a kiss but something#steady that lasts. (hold me close even if you can't tell me it'll be alright)#two people who're loyal to everything - too loyal to ask for what they want. They aren't dating because they're married to ghosts now and#to leave that haunted house would be to admit that there's nothing left there - that the grieving's done - and if the grieving's done then#the loving is too. It has to matter - it has to be present to be real (follow Starfleet rules follow Social rules follow the rules we make#up on the fly and honor as if they've been longstanding. Build a little life with me. Define strong lines we cannot cross. Look into my eyes#to make sure I'm not longing. Double check. Triple check. Don't look away. Please.)#When I want to hear your voice I'll read the words you've written - but I won't ask you to stay#Kathryn Janeway#Tuvok
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constantly reminded that majority of people will look at older animation/3d models and immediately deem it ugly & unwatchable while it doesnt even register to me. i'll see old 3d animations and just straight up accept thats how they look, it can even be charming to me idk it just ends up feeling stale in a way when everyone demands hyper realistic graphics & lifelike animations for everything. wheres the fun in everything being the same
#like beast wars and recently i took a look at reboot to see what that is and to me theyre just like. art styles#like genuinely i feel like it wouldnt have the same kind of feeling/charm if you remade those with current animation styles#oh man and remembering the sh2 remake like. the look of the old silent hill games is honestly part of their personality to me#you can pull off Great remakes like theyre doing in re now but to me visually thats just another Style and the og still has its own charm#also interesting to note with the rise of the ps1 indie game style more & more people seem to warm up to older graphics/animation styles#but still shy away from the experimental ''weird''/''uncanny''/''ugly'' look of late 90s/early 2000s animation. well i think theyre fun#venspeaks
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#tag talk#risk of rain 2 ost is such good workout music it's not quite as hardcore as doom but it still gives you that hype#doom is a little too much for me but ror2 has a lot more of a chill vibe while still giving you unstoppable killer energy#I love working out. did I already say this? idk. it gives me the same good feelings as sex does. a well used body#I like my body heating itself. feeling good and strong and loose and warm and able.#I've also gained almost two pounds which is hype and cool#also I was at work and I lifted a 90lb bag of concrete and a customer was like “damn you're strong” and like. hell yeah I am#I was wearing a skirt and my hair done up and so I got seen as she/her hence the surprise.#but like. hell yeah I'm strong! and I like it. I like being capable#OH I JUST REALIZED I'M SUCH AN IDIOT#I get understimulated so I want sex and then I'm good for a while until I get understimulated again#I'm literally so dumb that's my fucking cycle#holy shit that makes so much sense I literally had this knowledge and all the pieces I just never really put them together#congrats the answer is I am actually ace until the next time I question whether I'm actually ace or not#anyway I'm so smart and clever for figuring out another part of myself I actually really do feel cool for figuring that out
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JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ♡
TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.
there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.
and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.
his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.
inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.
“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.
it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.
“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.
“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.
pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.
maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”
with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.
it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.
your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.
“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”
GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.
when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.
gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.
“you ready to get started?”
your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.
of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.
after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.
“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”
his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.
“thank you,”
he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?
“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”
“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”
gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.
“i think .. i think i need you.”
with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.
it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.
his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.
yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,
“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”
CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.
a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.
he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.
“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.
there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.
the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.
yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.
“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”
oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.
he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.
violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.
“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.
choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.
you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.
it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.
though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.
staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.
from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.
“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”
it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.
GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.
you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.
geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.
“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.
you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”
if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.
“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?
or so you thought.
“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”
you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.
he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”
you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“
“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”
from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.
with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.
you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.
“if you do t-that, i might—“
and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.
“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”
#𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑻 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺 ┆jujutsu kaisen.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#choso smut#choso x reader#gojo x reader smut#choso x reader smut#choso kamo smut#getou smut#geto smut#suguru geto smut#satoru gojo smut#fushiguro toji smut#kamo choso smut#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#geto x y/n#toji x you#choso x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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