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beelmons · 1 year

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Mandatory team-building exercise

Pairing: BAU x Fem!BAU!Reader (becomes Hotch-centered) Genre: Smut (18+, minors are not encouraged to interact or read this story) CW: unprotected sex (i do not encourage), slight exhibitionism (not really, but ppl know stuff), jealous!hotch (a lil only), hoeing around, reader is bisexual Word count: 6,795 (very sorry about this) Summary: After a night of drinking, your boss proposes a bonding exercise so the team can get even closer: Everyone must make out with you, and you have to choose who kisses best. A/N: I got too carried away with this, no idea if i did any good, but here you go. Tag list (tagging everyone who reblogged and voted hotch): @ssamorganhotchner @montyfandomlove @hotchners-sweetheart @hey-dw @cassiemartzz <;3

Best part of going to O’keefe’s was wrapping the night up at Rossi’s, slightly tipsy, laughing about everything, and generally enjoying the genuine personalities of your friends, no masks or guards up, which was something hard to do at work. David’s house was a place where you could bare your soul and still feel safe.

“...and I swear, everyone just thought it was the most normal thing.” JJ said while swinging her glass of wine around, and the people around her let out a light laugh.

“I bet Rossi could agree with that, couldn’t you?” Morgan directed the question to Dave “After all, it’s your fault that we don’t get to fraternize with other agents, ain’t that right?” his comment made everyone laugh once again.

“No, no, never within the same department. I was in the bureau during the 70’s and 80’s, you didn’t get that many women out here, let alone in the BAU. By the end of my career, we only had two female agents in this unit and I had already been married thrice. So, do the math, if I had wanted to sleep with someone from the same unit, it would have had to be…” he made a pause for dramatic build-up “well, Gideon.”

The entire team let out a disgusted yet amused grunt at the mere idea of seeing two of their former bosses interacting in such fashion. You watched Spencer’s face be particularly crumpled, he was possibly picturing it in vivid detail by accident, consequences of having such a bright mind, so you decided to grab the hand that was holding his long island tea and push it gently towards his lips. You giggled at how he automatically obeyed and swallowed down a rather big gulp of his beverage.

“I’m just glad these are problems we don’t have to face in the BAU, you know, fraternization between agents.” Hotch said, taking a sip off his glass.

The silence that took over the group was deafening. Accusatory looks were being exchanged between everyone, and they could notice how certain glances lasted longer than appropriate. Hotch didn’t usually stay long enough to see how the nights ended, when everyone was too hammered to call their own cabs, or too impaired to question themselves whether the person they were kissing was or was not part of the team.

“Well, I think this is a conversation you kids should have without your parent present.” David, who was way faster at reading the situation compared to the unit chief, got up from his chair, leaving his glass by the table. Aaron sighed in what seemed like disappointment, and immediately followed Dave's actions. “No, no.” the older man quickly put a hand on his shoulder indicating him to sit down “I think it’s better if you stay; do some bonding. I’ll be in my room, sleeping, don’t be afraid to be noisy, the place is soundproof, just make sure to leave the alarm active once you leave.”

Incredulity washed over the unit chief as he watched his fellow team leader walk away from the situation. The eyes had turned to him instead, silently questioning about the decision he was going to take. It was a bit awkward to discuss your personal affairs with your boss present, sure, but it’s not like you didn’t have a relationship with him. Hotch, reserved and all, knew each member to a level of intimacy that few others could be able to reach, and had protected them in ways no other superior would approve of.

“Whatever I hear today will come through the ears of your friend, not your superior, but there’s no discussing this back at the office, understood?” the boss clarified as he went back to his seat, his hand reaching for the scotch he had left on the table. There was a second of doubtful silence, people were unsure how safe it was to share such private, and risky, information. Hotch started to catch up, feeling slightly unwelcome and bothersome, so he let out another sigh.

“Elle was Reid’s first time.” you spurted out of the blue, trying to ease the anxiety that was probably growing within your superior.

“Hey!” your partner yelled out, being sat next to you on one of the couches, clearly offended that he was the scapegoat to the situation.

“Greenaway?!” Morgan asked from across the living room.

“Do you know any more Elles, Morgan?” you said, your eyes rolling.

“How did you even land that, kid?” the dark-skinned man continued to ask.

“I’m not really a fan of discussing my sex life out in the open, which is why this was told in confidence to my close and dear friend” the young doctor shot you a quick glare with a hint of anger on it.

“Oh, so now it’s a sex life?” JJ teased.

“Totally.” you said, taking a sip of your own drink before continuing “Because he told me this two minutes before he shoved his tongue in my mouth, and his fingers down my pants.”

“No way!” Prentiss let out while everyone else laughed in surprise, Hotch’s eyebrows simply slightly raised at the confession.

Reid was sinking on his seat, his ears reddened from the looks that he was receiving. You made sure to squeeze his thigh lightly and shoot him a smile, which deflated the uneasiness that he was feeling. You didn’t mean any harm, and there was no wrong in letting the secret out in front of your most cherished friends, they would have found out one way or another.

“Morgan and I made out once.” Garcia interrupted the teasing in order to protect her favorite boy wonder from any further teasing, and Derek drew a smug smile on his face at her affirmation.

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Hotch contributed with an absolutely unphased expression, or so until another idea ran through his mind, his brows furrowing in concern “Hold on, was this on company time?” both suspects froze in their place and exchanged questioning, guilty looks. Regardless of the answer, their expressions had been enough to give them away “you know what? it’s better if I don’t know.”

“That office is certainly cozy, don’t you think?” JJ said once again, her eyes traveling between you and Penelope.

“Impossible.” Derek’s eyes spread wide open, his jaw basically dropping “Please don’t tell me the three made out in Garcia’s office and didn’t invite us to watch” he let out in a pleading, hurt tone.

“Four.” Emily barged in.

The men in the room seemed to melt at the revelation, the expression being quite literal for Morgan who slid down the chair in defeat, landing on his knees as if he had been shot in the cruelests of fashions. Spencer could only furrow his brows and let his mouth fall open, already trying to picture the situation.

“Was it like, taking turns on each other? or the four of you putting your lips together in one single kiss?” the blond asked in order to assess the spatial situation better.

“I’d say it was kind of a free-for-all sort of situation.” Prentiss answered him.

“At some point, I’d close my eyes and whomever’s lips came to mine, I was fine with it.” JJ commented, earning a flirty giggle from the rest of the girls around her.

“You women are killing me.” Morgan said once again, but a sudden epiphany seemed to come through his brain, and he turned in your direction with a pointed finger “Wait a second. That means you have been through everyone’s lips?!” he said in surprise.

“You’ve made out with her too?!” Garcia said in an offended tone.

“Christmas last year, got a little carried away with that mistletoe kiss.” he admitted “But nothing further than that.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to you, the crowd had a mixture of accusation and admiration on their faces, depending on who you looked at, and their staring was making you a little uncomfortable, if you were being honest.

“Have you all looked at yourselves? This is a ridiculously hot group of people. Being bisexual is very hard with a team like this.” you argued in your defense and decided to down whatever liquid was still inside your glass. Their faces seemed to light up with a hint of shyness. Everyone thought so, of course, but compliments on your physical appearances were not something you exchanged frequently. It was nice to hear once in a while.

“Did you ever end up sleeping with someone?” Hotch’s question took everyone by surprise, yet they were intrigued enough to allow him to ask uninterrupted.

Your eyebrows raised with slight offense “Come on, Hotch, I’m not a slut. The closest I have come to was Reid, and even so we stopped because I didn’t want to jeopardize our jobs.” you complained.

“Sorry, that was not my intention-” he began, until Reid’s question cut him off.

“Who’s the best?” he asked.

“Spencer!” JJ yelled accusingly.

“No, no, let the kid ask.” Morgan put a hand in front of JJ’s chest, trying to keep her opinions from coming out. Yet again, you were put as the center of attention, but you decided to shrug off the question.

“It’s not like I keep track of each time!” you let out, pushing your friend by the shoulder playfully at his suggestion “Most of them were really far apart from each other, and it only happened once with each one of you.” you clarified, your eyes traveling to Aaron, as if you were trying to justify yourself to him.

“So, what I hear is: if they were to happen one after the other, then we could find out?” Emily questioned in your direction.

“There’s a pretty spacious coat closet by the entrance.” Reid pointed out.

“Oh, we could make it into a competition, and whoever wins gets to sleep with her!” Garcia blurted with a little too much excitement.

“Wha-” you tried to complain in confusion “Stop your horses, I don’t even get a say in this?!”

“No.” Hotch stated. The way his eyes were stern, yet completely determined, caused a sensation in you that could only be described as lust. He was always commanding, but there was something about him instructing you to do the dirtiest things to your coworkers that had gotten you excited “This is now a mandatory team-bonding exercise.” his words came out almost like an order.

There was yet another exchange of looks, this time excited ones, between the team members, and they decided to look at you for approval. “Okay, but sleeping with me is one hell of a prize, and I don’t seem to be getting anything out of this. So, how do I win, and what do I win?”

“Seems fair that you have a reward as well if you achieve your desired result. How about, if no one is able to convince you to sleep with them, you get one of their vacation days each.” Hotch proposed. “Garcia and JJ, since the two of you are committed you don’t have to actively participate, but you will place a bet on the member you think she’ll most likely succumb to, if you win, you get the loser’s vacation day.”

Your mouth crooked with pleasure, an expression that your partners mimicked. You were feeling exposed, in the good way, in the kinky way. You still took a second to consider, you knew there was no going back if you agreed to this, but yet again, these were the people you had trusted your entire life to, your job, your safety, your dignity. They would never do anything to undermine you, and their respect for you wouldn’t waver for something like this.

“We have to set some rules, though.” Spencer weighed in “Only mouths and hands allowed in the erogenous zones.”

“You worried that if we allow something else you’ll lose?” Morgan teased.

“Mhm, sure, we know what you’re trying to compensate for with those biceps, Morgan. I’m not afraid of you.” his friend teased back. There was a short moment of playful conflict between the two, when Derek pretended to jump menacingly towards Reid, yet he was stopped by Penelope’s hand on his chest.

“Okay. I’m game.” you agreed along with a nod of your head “Who wants to give it a try first?” you asked, taking a look at the entire group.

Bunch of eager hands raised at the cue. Morgan’s and Prentiss’s almost touching the ceiling as they competed to see who could raise it higher. JJ and Penelope, who were unfortunately not single at the moment, could only laugh at their little quarrel. Your finger moved rhythmically, pretending to select at random while humming a classic ‘choosing’ song. Ultimately, your digit landed on Prentiss and you wiggled it to indicate her to follow you; she stood up to reach for your hand, allowing you to lead her towards the closet by the entrance.

She locked the door behind her and turned around with her hands extended towards you, trying to find your body in the pitch-dark small room; your eyesights finally adjusted to the lack of light and you could barely make out her shape.

“You sure you’re good with this?” she double-checked once her limbs landed on your waist.

“Em, I love the commitment to consent, but stop talking.” you ordered.

Within seconds, your own arms wrapped around her neck urging her to come closer; she obliged, happily, and her own head bent forward to meet your lips. You could taste the faint flavor of her balm, which you identified as piña colada.

Her lips moved slowly, yet sensually, the hands that were gripping your hips pulled them closer, and you could heart the rustling of your clothes rubbing together. After a couple of seconds, her tongue began to prod your bottom lip, ever so chivalrous asking for permission. You chuckled amusedly at the gesture, and she took advantage of the opening to slip in.

Emily liked to take her time, not really taking control, more like exploring a place that always felt familiar and was revisiting just then. On your side, your fingers curled into the slightly messy hair, and your body rolled on its own to be feeling more of her against you.

You could feel her hand dragging upwards over your clothes, she traced the side of your body and caused your shirt to come up a little bit, the cool air felt interesting against your now hot skin, and so a sound slipped past your lips. It was Emily’s turn to laugh, pulling away so she could make out your eyes.

“Better than last time?” she asked, her face not leaving yours.

“Mhm.” you could simply hum, still breathless from the session.

“Do you have enough material to work with, judge?” she teased, her nose grazing yours in a playful manner.

“You will be hard to top, Em.” you admitted to her as your body pulled away.

“Not the first time I’ve been told that.” she joked “I’ll send in the next contestant, who do you want me to get?”

“You know what? Just send in whoever you’d like, surprise me.”

She smiled before sneaking out of the narrow room. You were left alone with a bunch of coats and purses, your idea building anticipation within yourself. Spencer or Morgan, who would come through that door? You were dying to know. Although, if you were being honest, there was only one other person you wanted in there with you. However, you weren’t sure if the team-bonding exercise applied to him as well, he was the sole pair of lips you were dying to taste, and still the only ones you hadn’t.

Your train of thought was interrupted by the opening of the door; you jumped slightly in your place, and the man that was entering the room could notice.

“Whoa, sweetheart, you that excited to see me?” Morgan chuckled at your startled reaction, and he swiftly closed the door behind you.

“You’re a pleasant surprise, yes.” you said trying to ease your nervousness. Morgan made you particularly uneasy, not for anything bad, you were just sure that man had some sort of a psychic ability, he would always guess what you were thinking without even opening your mouth.

“You were expecting someone different, weren’t you?” he stood before you, towering over your body.

He took a couple of steps forward and you retracted until your back eventually hit the wall, he continued to pace forward until the gap between your bodies almost disappeared; being caged in by him, your hands traveled to your front, and they landed on his chest, almost as if you were trying to put some space in between you.

He caught up to your actions, observant as he was, and so he raised his own hands to cup your cheeks. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness once again, and you could see the natural glim of his as he looked into you.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, alright? We can just pretend like we did until Hotch gets his turn.” he reassured, and your mouth dropped open.

“Why would you-” you started to try and justify yourself, but he cut you off with a laugh.

“I’ve got an eye for tragic lovers.”

You sighed a little bit; Morgan had to be a mind reader, there was no other way. As if he was doing just that, his arms fell back to his sides and he stepped back to give you more space. Your hands desperately clung to the front of his t-shirt, not allowing him to escape any further from your grip.

“Hold on.” you told him “There’s no need to pretend, he already thinks we’re going to do it, so what’s the harm?”

The room was a bit too dark for you to make out his specific facial expression, but you were sure his eyebrows were raised in a startled surprise.

“Damn, you’re good at convincing.” without further delay, his hands darted back to the position on your face, and he used them to pull you forward.

You felt his lips on yours immediately, he was less gentle than Emily, but nonetheless chivalrous. You had to grant him access to your mouth, and he quickly obeyed your desires. His fingers moved back to the nape of your head, keeping you in place against his mouth as his tongue danced fervently around yours.

Your hands had moved back to his chest, using them to stabilize yourself since his strength and mild roughness was making you lose your balance. You couldn’t help the slight squeeze that you gave his pecs, being that they felt firm under your fingers. Derek took your initiative with the touch as an invitation to do so as well. One of his arms fell down, and sensually slipped to your lower back, he was cautious, lowering inch by inch in search of any sign of complaint or rejection, but you didn’t provide any, and his palm gently began to caress the area of your ass.

Your hips rolled unconsciously against his, his breath hitched inside his throat as you did so to the point where he had to pull apart to catch it back. He didn’t want to leave you unattended, therefore his head tilted to the side to take a gentle nibble at your jaw before he moved down to your neck. The hand on your neck joined the other on your rear, adding much needed pressure to his front; you let out a pleased sound, and it was his sign to retract.

He stole a quick, last peck from your lips before he pulled back. “I think I’ve done a good job.” he said with a cheeky tone.

“Certainly, contestant” you went along with the joke and he answered with a laugh “Please send in the next test subject” he nodded at your instructions and calmly walked out.

Thanks to Morgan’s comment, you realized that Aaron was probably game as well, and the mere thought of him appearing behind that door at any given second was making you nervous enough to begin pacing around the small room. You yet again reacted when the entrance was open again, and you must have made a movement or expression that indicated disappointment, because Reid pursed his lips at the sight of you.

“Not who you were expecting?” he asked before he closed the door behind him, and you could notice the tint of sadness in his voice.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” you reached out towards him in an attempt to find his hands, and when you finally did you pulled him closer to you “You know it’s always a delight to make out with you.” you tried to reassure him.

“It’s mutual, you know?” he said, his hands still in yours.

“I figured, I am an excellent kisser” you teased.

“That’s not what I meant.” his voice seemed more stern than usual “You and Hotch.”

You were thankful for the darkness that didn’t allow the blush of your face to be seen; after a couple of seconds, you cleared your throat, trying to avoid sounding too hopeful.

“You don’t have to force yourself to kiss me” he added “Plus, I don’t know how comfortable I would be doing so while you think of another man.”

Your eyebrows raised at his candor. Vulnerable Spencer could always sway you, mostly because you knew none of his words ever held an ill intention. He was honest to a fault, and you always felt compelled to soothe his anxieties.

“Then be good enough to make me forget.” you almost let out as a whisper.

You knew it would have to be up to you to take control with him, so you cupped his face and quickly dragged him down to your level to press a kiss to his lips and shut up whatever other excuse he was going to emit. Spencer was much more familiar with your lips compared to others, barely any foreplay before his tongue was already massaging yours sensually. His fingers gripped your hips in a similar fashion he had done before (that one time you were telling the rest of the team about).

He pushed you backwards a bit, having you pressed against an already too familiar wall, and you could feel his knee slipping past your thighs, right in between them. His lips continued to work around yours, gently nonetheless, but you could feel the grip on your hips getting tighter, and you realized he was trying to move them, bringing friction to your front.

A light moan slipped past your lips straight into his mouth, so his body moved forward to press against you a little tighter. “Isn’t that cheating?” you took the opportunity to say.

“It’s not.” he answered before taking another kiss away from you “My mouth is where it’s supposed to be.”

You giggled at his logic; Spencer was just that good when it came to loopholes. You were too focused on the pleasure that was taking over you as your clothed crotch continued to rub against his leg to actually care. Your hips started to take a rhythm on their own, and your kiss turned into a session of adjoining lips panting in unison. His fingers kept digging further into the skin that he had managed to expose due to the movement.

At some point, your head dropped back to allow yourself to get lost in the moment, and you felt his lips attack its base with open-mouthed, yet non-invasive, kisses. Your legs began to shake and Spencer pressed against you to keep you up, your light orgasm running within every vein of your body.

He let out a light chuckle as he pulled away from you, making sure you could keep your balance. “Bet Morgan didn’t do that” he said proudly.

You hit him in the arm and pushed him towards the door with a smile, watching him smugly prance his way out. You laughed to yourself to disguise the anxiety that began to overwhelm you. You made sure to fix your clothes in a somewhat presentable manner, and you unconsciously pressed yourself back against the wall, as if you were too scared to meet him face first.

Your heart felt like jumping straight up out of your chest when the knob finally twisted the damned piece of fine wood open. For the brief moment the hall light illuminated the insides, your eyes met, you could see the startle in his eyes once he noticed the way you stood there seemingly frozen by his appearance. He couldn’t bear the sight, his hands immediately darting to your face without having even shut the entrance. In a blink, his entire presence was right by yours, and his nose rubbed desperately against your own, almost as if it had taken all of his strength to stop himself from kissing you right away.

“Can I?” he asked in a mutter.

“Yes.” you barely let him finish his question when you answered.

Your firm and resolute agreement was nothing but a turn on to him, and his lips pressed passionately against yours without a second thought. You struggled to catch your breath as he devoured every inch of your now plump skin. His hands were nowhere near quiet, either, they presumed permission to explore as well and traveled south to where your lower-back, and any work you had done to tidy your shirt was long gone, being that he was heavily bothered by the fact that you were clothed.

The tip of his fingers were carefully memorizing the areas where your skin curved, every so often gripping selfishly with the intention of leaving at least a faint mark. You wondered how he could keep going without taking a break, and as if he could read your mind he pulled away.

“That’s plenty to be able to judge your performance.” you joked, suddenly aware that this had all begun because of a silly game you had tipsily come up with.

“I’m sorry.” he said, his hands fixing themselves on your face instead, keeping it still to have you at the same level as him.

“What for?” your eyebrows furrowed questioningly, even if in the darkness he couldn’t quite see your expression.

“It’s not enough for me.” his lips smashed onto yours once again with a similar force “Please tell me this urge isn’t one-sided.” he tried to reassure himself.

“It’s not.” you hurried to clarify, and your hands tugged at his shirt to serve as guarantee.

Aaron reached for the hem of your top and swiftly pulled it over your head, giving your aching lips a second of rest. Once your breasts were partially freed, you noticed him bend over, and one of his hands moved the remaining fabric away to expose your nipple; the way his mouth so hungrily latched to it made you shiver with pleasure, your right limb moving to his hair, and the left one covering your mouth to stop the loud moan from coming out. He didn’t take long to bring your other nub attention as well, and caged, throaty whines began to fill the room.

You could feel his erection pressing against your hip; he would roll them from time to time just as a reminder of the effect you had on him. You couldn’t process all that, though, if you were being honest, his every move, kiss, and suck driving you further away from sanity. As if his mouth wasn’t already doing wonders around your chest, you bolted up when you realized one of Hotch’s hands had found its way inside your pants, toying with the elastic band of your underwear.

“Aaron.” you removed the cover from your face to let out an aroused moan of his name.

He finally let go of your upper body, his back straightening to be close to your face once again “Tell me,” he almost whispered “when he was doing this to you, were you thinking of me?”

When you didn’t jerk away from his touch, he moved past the last restrictive garment, and one of his digits trailed up your entire slit, an experimental feeling to gather your reaction. To his pleasure, you melted into his touch, and the lack of light didn’t allow you to see the wide smile it generated on him. He took advantage of your approval to slip his finger inside your cunt.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased as the aforementioned began to painstakingly slowly twirl within you “Tell me, is there anyone else that can make you this agitated? So wet, so desperate to be touched?”

“N-No” you tried to answer in one go, however, the way the tip of his finger caressed your walls in search of reactions was not allowing you to think straight.

“I’ll ask you again.” he said, his tone ever commanding “While he was touching you like this, did you secretly wish it was me?” he kept pressing his initial line of questioning, that you were too gone to remember it was about your little anecdote with Reid.

His wrist twisted in a way that allowed him to penetrate deeper, owning a moan that you tried to subtly suppress.

“Yes!” you cried out in the lowest tone you were able to, still oddly aware that the rest of your coworkers were outside.

“Let him know.” he basically growled against your ear, you lacked contact in your lower body for a second, only to let out a loud, uncontained whimper once he added a second finger to the formula. You grabbed for dear life onto his biceps, trying to keep your balance as he continued to thrust his fingers inside and out, your head also laid against the crook of his neck, unable to keep yourself facing him as he spilled dirty nothings in your ear.

“Aaron, please.” you begged as your hips tried to get him even further within you “I need more.”

The arm that was helping you keep still moved so his fingers could tangle in your hair, his grip allowed him to tilt your head back with a gentle tug, not quite enough to hurt you, but firm enough to force it a little.

“I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget every word but my name.” his mouth pressed against yours once again to give you a reaffirming, rough kiss.

He removed his hand from your downside, and it energetically began to search around for the top he had removed earlier. Unable to find it, between other pieces of clothing and the darkness of the room, Aaron decided to remove his own shirt and hurried to throw it over your shoulders.

Your face reddened at his intentions, he was trying to cover you so the rest of the members wouldn’t see you literally half naked. Once he was comfortable with how many buttons he had hooked, he grabbed your hand to guide you outside the narrow closet.

Unfortunately for the both of you, and his subordinates, the only path towards the guest rooms, that Dave had prepared earlier, was to follow the hallway that crossed the living room area on the side. You braced yourself mentally, your hand covering your face as you began to feel the confused sights of your coworkers during your little parade.

“Last one out set the alarm.” you could hear Hotch command, but you didn’t dare to look back at your friends, or him for that matter.

The rest of the group simply stared at how their shirtless superior was dragging a girl, their very best friend, who was wearing his shirt over what was obviously a barely clothed chest, to the rooms their other boss had prepared for a very specific purpose. They exchanged puzzled looks in complete silence until Emily spoke up.

“Anyone know the alarm code?” she asked.

Back to you and Aaron, he had chosen the closest door he could find open. As soon as you stepped in, he grabbed your hips once again to press them against his, his erection made itself known against them, and you couldn’t help but to curiously wander one hand down. Your foreheads met and so did your eyes as you palmed his front; he let out an airy quiet moan.

Not able to take his frustration any longer, he twirled in his place along with you, making you stumble and fall on your back on to the bed. He landed right on top, his palms against the mattress cushioning the fall so he wouldn’t lay his entire weight on you.

There was no exchange of words, only a quick glance at your covered bottom that you understood as a command. Your back arched upwards and he could steal a glance of your perked nipples rubbing against his lent shirt. Shortly, you began to wiggle underneath him to remove the pants that you were pushing down along with your underwear. Once you were exposed, garments missing somewhere around the area, Aaron sat on his knees to unbuckle his belt.

The second his member became exposed, you let out a pleased gasp, which prompted him to smile in a rather shy way. Your legs subtly spread apart, revealing more of your intimate parts, and he understood that as an invitation to enter. His tip trailed slowly up and down your entrance, but before you could complain, he began to push in. He was as desperate as you were, and the way you let out a soft whine at his size.

Once he had pushed all the way in, he reached for your hands, intertwining your fingers together and pushing them all the way over your head. He could get a clear view of your face and breasts, and once he made sure you had adjusted to him, his hips began to move. Another moan escaped your lips, so he leaned down to meet his mouth with yours, planting a passionate, deep kiss to it.

You could feel yourself being filled by him, soft noises coming out of your mouth into his at the gentleness of his thrusts. Said gesture, however, wouldn’t seem to last long, and you noticed in the way the grip of your hands felt tighter with each one.

“No one else can touch you like this.” he pulled away from the kiss to focus on the side of your neck, you felt his lips attach to the skin and roughly suck on it. Aaron pulled away to admire the redness that spread on the spot, proud of the mark that he knew it was going to leave.

“No one else.” you reassured, your back arching a little at the pulsating pain on your neck.

“Good girl.” he praised, his hips snapping with a particularly rough thrust that caused a low ‘fuck’ out of you.

“Don’t hold back your voice.”

He repeated his movement, and this time you squirmed trying to free your hands, a loud, throat-deep whimper resonating around the otherwise empty room. He smirked at the volume of the sound, yet his hips continued to pound in you, the initial slow movements gone from his rhythm.

“Aaron…” you whispered in between moans “I want to cum.” you tried to beg.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” his eyes glimmered with certain darkness

His hips changed angles even when his current speed wouldn’t give in, the way he was pushing now allowed your clit to rub slightly against his lower torso with every thrust, probably so he wouldn’t have to use his hands and set yours free.

“I need to know I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.” he growled “I need you to say you’re mine.”

“I’m-” you were about to start talking when he snapped his hips roughly, and you could feel him slide all the way in, his balls making a loud clapping sound when they hit the skin on your ass. The sound you made was loud, almost like a scream, and you were sure whoever was still outside certainly heard it.

“What 's that? Couldn’t hear you.” his mouth had curled into a smug smirk.

“I’m yours, Aaron. I’m all yours.” you cried out, your wrists once again twisting in an attempt to free themselves.

He muttered another praise and let go of your hands, which could only fall flat to your sides and grip onto the sheets of the bed; he leaned back to be sitting on his knees once again, not allowing his member to slip out of you, and grabbed at your hips to slide them onto his lap. He held them in position as he continued to thrust, but one of his thumbs snuck to the upper part of your cunt, rapidly teasing the sensitive nerve bundle.

You kept slightly gritting your teeth, your walls clenching around his shaft without mercy, and even if it was not obvious on his face, you could tell by the way his member throbbed inside of you that he was about to reach his limit as well.

“Cum.” he suddenly commanded, and you didn’t need anything more.

You allowed yourself to be engulfed by your climax, your body twisting itself and your hands pulling at the fabric beneath them, your legs also curled, basically pushing your partner in your direction, not even giving him the option to pull back.

On his part, his head was thrown back, and you could see the way his adam’s apple bobbed with the loud groans he let out, his fingers gripping tighter on your skin, however this time the mark that his hold would leave was a complete accident.

He didn’t pull out once he had spilled himself completely into you, instead, his body dropped forward, his arms slipping under your body to hold you close to him, head on your chest, eyes closed, just trying to take in the fact that he had just made love to you.

“Aaron?” you said with a curious tone, your arms wrapping around his back and allowing one of your hands to tangle in his hair. He answered with a short hum, too tired to give you an actual answer “Does it bother you that I made out with the rest of the team tonight?” you asked, nervous that it would have hurt him in any way.

“No.” he said matter-of-factly “As long as I only get to do it from now on.”

You shared a light chuckle, and without noticing, the both of you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning was a bit awkward for Rossi, being that he was not expecting to see the entire team, save for you and Hotch, curled on his living room furniture. JJ, Reid, and Emily had curled up together on the larger piece, while Morgan and Garcia cuddled on one of the individual seats. The clearing of his throat woke everyone up in a startle, and they looked around confusedly for the missing members of the group.

“What the hell happened last night?” David asked no one in particular.

“We were playing a game, and we must have fallen asleep waiting for it to end.” Garcia said with a slightly suggestive, yet groggy, voice, and Rossi decided it was better not to ask.

“By the way, how do we interpret this?” Emily asked “Who won?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Morgan scoffed, and Emily shrugged in defeat.

“Then, who won between the two of you?” Reid asked, pointing at JJ and Garcia.

“No one, really.” Jennifer replied.

“What? You both failed? Who did you choose?” Morgan inquired.

The blondes exchanged looks to see if they had had the same thought, and so they replied in unison once they had figured they were correct.

“Spencer.” their tones were flat, almost as if the answer was obvious. Reid lit up in a smile, wiggling his eyebrows victoriously at Derek.

“What?! No way you would just pick him!” he was baffled at the answer.

“Girls talk, Derek” Penelope told him “Let’s just say Elle reviewed his service with five stars.”

The group broke into a shared laugh, and Rossi only interrupted so he could inquire on the whereabouts of his friends.

“Where’s Aaron?” he prompted.

“One of the guest rooms.” Reid said.

“And is he with…?” Dave continued.

“Yup” the five members said in unison, referring to you.

“Also, Rossi, if you don’t mind, I kind of have a design suggestion.” Spencer turned in the direction of his superior

The older man raised his eyebrows, curious about the words that were about to come out of the younger’s mouth. “Let’s hear it.”

“Please make all the rooms soundproof.”

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 3 months

Text

❝ Comin’ back for more? ❞

warnings: yandere!leon and yandere!reader, piquerism, carving his name into r! skin, blood kink, overstimulation, leon takes pictures and videos of r!, dumbification, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick), use of boypussy & boy cunt.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

authors' note: heed the warnings, leon and y/n are high-key deranged, lmao. also i wrote this in a rush but enjoy!!

“Do you think he’s like…big?”

That alone was enough to make you rip your eyes away from your laptop. She chews on her glossy lip, twisting her phone to show you a Tinder profile of some douchebag that checks off everything on her list.

Awkwardly angled photos to show his jawline? Check.

Dimples? Check.

Two pairs of horrendous matching sweats? Check

A random photo of him holding some poor relative's baby to appeal to women? Check.

“Surprised he didn’t leap out from your brain,” your dry tone makes Ashley pout. “Honestly, be a little proud of me, (Y/N). He’s not holding a fish,” she turns the phone to herself. Pursing your lips, you return your attention to the report that’s been rotting in your laptop.

“Yeah, his sister is probably relieved her baby’s face is plastered on a hook-up app.” Ashley reaches over and smacks your hand. The yelp you let out turns a few heads; dark eyebags and caffeine-fueled veins already making them irritable. Exclamations of pain weren’t appreciated.

“You’re such a pessimist, (Y/N). I swear I have no idea how we ended up being friends.” An attempt was made at stifling your laughter but it tumbles out from between your fingers in quick intakes of breaths. The glaring turns into mumbling but none would speak up. Between Ashley’s status and your own, along with your golden reputation, no one could find themselves wishing ill upon the both of you.

Ashley was from a wealthy family. All you'd need to do is look at her to see she was dripped in luxury brands that were so exclusive you probably never heard of them. She met you through one of her mother's annual parties. It was an attempt on her end to play matchmaker with Ashley so she was quick to push Ashley and your sibling together.

Unfortunately for her, both you and your sibling were queer. Ashley was just glad to have real friends. How did the saying go? You win some, you lose some?

"You have your mother to thank for that. Remember how she was convinced you were a lesbian because we kept hanging out? Before I came out and everything." Ashley rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbow as she scrolled through the array of people with mild interest.

“Woah, what was that for?” Her lack of reply makes your brows raise. Closing your laptop, you reach a hand out to swipe her phone away. She gasps, attempting to swipe it back but you lean back on the chair, balancing precariously on its two legs. “Give it back, you ass,” she hisses, still trying to keep her voice low as she raises from her seat. Exiting from Tinder, your thumbs work deftly to open her messages and scoff as you go through her archived chats to see her mother’s messages were there. “You put your mom in archive jail? Woah, she must have really pissed you off,” she grunts as she tugs her phone back into her hands. You let her, folding your arms behind your head as she taps out from your intrusion. “What’s up? Did she bug you about university again? I swear she’s as anal about making those planners as you are.” “As opposed to how you live through life relying simply on your phone’s battery? Not to mention, you keep overcharging the hell out of your phone too. You should really change it — “ Ashley tucks her hand to her chest as you stand up, your chair banging as you ground it before you do so. At this point, a few people have plugged in their earphones anyway. “You’re stalling, Ms Graham.”

Ashley does this thing with her mouth. Sucking in her cheeks and chewing the insides as she contemplates spilling the metaphorical can of beans. It seems she relents as she settles next to you. There’s a sense of gratitude in her eyes as your knees are now facing her as you sit.

“These recent killings, it’s got her on edge,” she said. “She’s even been telling me I should have an escort everywhere I go. I don’t know, I just want to be normal. It’s hard enough that people treat me more like a concept or a walking ATM — an escort would just further that divide.”

A glance over her shoulder makes her words more concrete. Their eyes were clear in their intentions; flashes of green embedded in the very whites of their gelatinous orbs. Whether it was envy or greed was hard to decipher but it was clear Ashley wasn’t a person to them. She was a myth brought to life.

“You told her that?” she pushes her lips forward into a pout and you cock a brow. “Like she’d let that be an excuse. I understand her concerns but I’m not a damsel in distress. The Ghostface killings aren’t even aimed at this university, they’re completely random.”

“But you gotta admit, the close proximity would set anyone on edge. Your mother just happened to be someone who was born right on it,” you reach over to poke her cheek and she swats your hand away with a huff. “Can’t you ask her to hire secret agents instead? At least that way, nobody will see them.”

Ashley groans out that you’re the opposite of being helpful. Her phone buzzes in her hand and whatever she reads is clearly exciting enough for her to completely drop the conversation because she reaches forward and smacks your knees so hard it jerks up involuntarily.

“(Y/N), look!”

You’re half-expecting a new Tinder profile but instead, it’s a shittily made poster for a Frat Party. The curling of your lips has Ashley whining and she inches closer — her knees now between yours — as she wags the phone a bit.

“Dude, c’mon! We gotta go, everyone will be there!”

And if everyone was there, Ashley would have to be there too.

“Yeah, what better way to piss off your mother than to go to an overcrowded and overrated Frat Party,” you reply dryly. High schoolers made better posters. This one with the Comic Sans font, blurry PNGs of the hang-tight emoji, and Rick Sanchez lowered your confidence in the Earth's crust. Ashley scoffs.

“Shut up. Besides, the only reason you don’t want to go is because Mr Waitlist will be there,” she dodges your attempt to smack her arm. “Seriously, I have no idea why you choose to be in denial about your feelings for him. The chemistry between you two is insane. It’s almost sickening.”

“Almost? Guess we should try harder,” you mutter as you turn to face your laptop again. Ashley does not relent. “You should. I agree. It’s obvious you two like each other. I’ve already made a wedding plan for you.”

“Ashley,” you groan out. “Nothing is happening. We’re just...close friends.” "Again. Stage 1, denial," your eye-roll makes her inch closer and closer. "Not that anyone would blame you. He looks like some European model even with those weird side-part bangs." "Ashley." The finality in your tone makes her giggle. "(Y/N). You're attracted to him. The second you see him I swear your pupils just blow up bigger than when you're on molly. What's stopping you from just being exclusive-style?" Knowing she won't stop her sudden fixation on the topic, your shoulders droop just as you slip down your chair. Sinking deeper into your oversized hoodie, you sigh and attempt to entertain her as your fingers hover over your keyboard.

"We tried, but it didn't work, Ashley."

"Barely, tried. You had one foot out of the door before the relationship even started. I still remember you trying to keep it a secret, that's not trying that's giving up with extra steps!"

The violent shushing of a particularly peeved student causes Ashley to flinch. Pink dusts across her milky skin and she bows her head apologetically, her teethy grin gone in an instant. He seems satisfied with her expression. That quickly fades when he sees the stare you give him; his brows furrow and he frowns with a slow curl of his nose. Like a kitten hissing.

You recognize him from some of the classes you took. He was the kind of guy who'd continue to badger the professor with questions, acting so smug as he did so and never catching how exasperated they'd be. Obscenely polite because his parents were big spenders in the university's bank account. His greasy fingerprints on the steel frame of his glasses and pathetic excuse of a beard piss you off enough to curl your lips into a wicked grin.

"Sorry, were we too loud?"

The apricot sweater he wears reeks of cologne, the kind that pierces your nose and makes your eyes water from how strong it is. As he lifts his arms to cross it, Ashley straightens her back to put more distance between him.

"The two of you have been loud the second you got here." There's more he wants to say, the twitching of his lips and the tightening of his fingers prove that much. But you're staring up at him like you know something he doesn't — an omen is within your eyes and the chill it gives him shuts him up enough to leave with a comical stomp and huff.

Ashley cringes, glancing around to see if anyone felt the same as he did but is distracted by your question. "Everyone is invited to that party?" Excitement flashes in her eyes as she sees the same in yours.

"Fine. I'll go too."

The music is so loud you're convinced it's rattling your bones. People are spilling out from the threshold of doors, and windows, on the stairs and the porch, and possibly on the sloped roofs of the house. The lights are everchanging. Streams of neon blue, green, and red are flashing through the fog that's flowing down from the corners of the room. The scents. The sounds. The feeling of bodies bumping into you no matter where you walk. It was a goddamn watering hole.

You had come here with Ashley, but she split off with some of her girlfriends. Last time you checked, she'd been invested in some girl's sob story as they crowded around her with red cups in their hands and slurred words. Ashley had given you a grimace but gestured for you to just enjoy herself.

You'd try to but there'd be no point in doing so considering how vapid everyone was.

So you nurse your drink in the corner, back facing the stairs, and smile as people walk by or above you. The music isn't all that bad, typical party music with some early 2000s songs that earns a good 'oh fuck, this is my song!' from the crowd.

Scanning the front door, watching every face that comes in, your hunger becomes more and more endless. Like a predator digging its claws into the bark of trees, you're restless in that little shroud of camouflage; shifting your weight from one side to the other, sighs escaping liquor-flavoured lips; grin getting more and more grim.

The touch on your nape has your head tilting away from him. Those calloused fingerpads — which not many people in this slice of "heaven" had — press into the solid bone on your nape; it elicits a barely there moan and your features soften immediately.

The cup he's holding is perspiring in his hands and you've spent enough time under his hands to know it had every right to be red and sweating. Deft fingers pinch the rim of your cup and you give him no resistance as he pulls it away to trade his drink.

"Thought you said you didn't wanna be here, Trustfund," Leon said as he leaned on the wooden panels of the walls. The shoulder bump he did is deliberate, a soothing croon to ask you to stop staring people down the second they enter the house.

"What gave you that impression, Waitlist?"Leon grunts, downing what little is left in your cup down his throat. Risking a glance away from the entrance, your eyes chase after the trail of wetness that slithers down his chin. God, he was gorgeous. A face so pretty it's no wonder he pisses off other men around him. His odd, dry, humour doesn't exactly help either.

"The lack of replies to my messages, maybe, geez, who knows."

"Oh, poor Leon," your pout earns a frown from him. "Couldn't get your dick wet when I was going through exams? Oh, poor widdle baby," he leans away from your fingers as they invade his face to pinch to what little adolescent fat still stuck to his cheeks.

"Oh, suck a dick, (Y/N)." Your smirk as you bring your lips to the rim of his cup. "Down, boy. We're in public, don't start begging just yet."

Unamused — or attempting to look unamused — Leon simply follows your focused gaze and tilts his head.

"I'll ask then. What's up with the staring problem? You attracted to doors now or what?"

The drink goes down with an awfully wheaty aftertaste and you smack your lips together in bemusement. "Fuck - what beer is this?" "Don't be an ass, they're doing a beer run, alright? I grabbed what I could. Are you gonna answer my question or not?" You swallow with a grimace. "D'you know that kid in Mr Pinto's class? The one with glasses and that god-awful voice? That know-it-all?" Leon nods. "Yeah, kinda looks like the typical nerdy douchebag, right?"

You lean in and Leon lets you. The both of you pretend not to feel the way his breath shudders as your wet lips brush the side of his cheeks.

"I wanna kill that rude little freak. Cut him open and smear his brains all over the fuckin' sidewalk." Leon's eyes widen. As you peer at him through your lashes, his grey-metal eyes all but melt to reveal that bloodthirsty animal stalking between reason and lace-thin morality. He gulps thickly, casting a side-glance briefly to the entrance before he darts them back to you.

"Why?" He strains out after clearing his throat.

Oh, this is why you adored Leon Scott Kennedy.

It was the way he tried so hard to deny how twisted he actually was. That abashed flutter of his lashes, the skim of teeth over his rabbit-tongue-colored lips; everything contrasting to how violently he used his strength to thrust a knife into someone's rib; how easily he swiped and cleaned a hunting blade using his gloves.

The low, guttural, grunts he makes as he thrusts into you during that high. How he's so careful with his strength outside of the bedroom but during the heat of it? He's so shameless that he leaves hand-shaped bruises all over your hips and arms and even leaves indents of his teeth into your flesh. If he was really impatient, he'd fuck you all while wearing the Ghostface mask, holding that still-bloody knife to your throat as he fucked you so hard you walked funny for a day or two.

Despite how much he enjoys it though, he still asks ' why? '

Why him? Did he do something bad to you? Why not him?

Why? Why? Why?

It didn't exactly matter why. Leon never says no to you.

"He was a bitch to Ashley."

Someone bumps into him, and he braces his hand on the base rail of the stairs. Drunken laughter muffles the minute silence as he peers down at you. His broad shoulders look bigger this time. You faintly recalled Ashley slyly mentioning how he seems to work out more often now ("always jogging past near your accommodations, you must've seen him once in a while. Has he ever come over for a quick post-workout boost?" "Gross, Ashley...A few times, yeah -").

"That won't do." He said with furrowed brows. "No, it won't." Circling your arms around his waist, you pull him in with a Cheshire smile.

"Ashley's like family to me. Besides, her mom's been worried about all these — " you giggle, trying to push down the urge to by chewing on your lower lip but failing. "What?" he asks, the tip of his nose on yours as he savours the sound. "C'mon, what'd she say, babe?"

"She's worried about these Ghostface killings," you playfully hiss out. He isn't sure if it's the party, the drinks, the bloodlust, or just you but he starts laughing along with you.

"So we gotta make sure he isn't dangerous for her sake, hm?" He noses under your jaw and the way you turn your face away makes his mouth water. That neck is far too untainted for his own liking; how long has it been since you've fucked? Since he's driven a knife into someone's skull?

Ever since that awkward break-up in your car, after that honest-to-god perfect night of killing that annoying and creepy line cook and fucking under the stars in the woods. That was the last time the two of you fucked and that was months ago. It caught him off-guard. That haze of pleasure being fanned away by the typhoon that was your sudden request to just break up.

The handjob on the wooden floors of your dorm followed by a blowjob was more recent but Leon just wanted to sink into that tight hole again and again for hours for him to be fully satisfied. The only reason he even stopped was because your alarm rang for an early class, one that you apparently couldn't afford to skip. All lies. He knows the alarm was just the weekday alarm that always went off at 9 am — he knows it's because of the beat of silence that followed after you came around his fingers.

The gentle panting from both of you, the sweet kisses he was leaving on your thighs and then your face.

You only pulled away when it got too real.

It just makes him more determined to show you how deep his devotion for you was. Whatever the reason behind your fear of commitment was, there isn't a line Leon wouldn't cross to show you how willing he is to be yours.

"Exactly," you whisper. How he hears it despite the music and people should surprise him but it doesn't. His body is hyperaware of your very presence. The minute changes in your expressions, the octave changes or lilts in your voice, the wordless way you communicate with him from across the room; Leon just knows you.

"A little birdie told me that he actually has a crush on you, Mr Kennedy." Leon doesn't pause in his actions. His tongue laps at the rising pace of your pulse, teeth brushing over skin and you try very hard to continue your speech despite the hand that cups your crotch.

"Somethin' 'bout you helping him pick up his books when the fucker tripped over his own fuckin' feet." You gasped as he started mottling your skin, capillaries just imploding under his ministrations. "Fuck, Leon." The cup is crinkling under your tightening hold and Leon simply cages you in between his toned arms. It's hard to focus on anything past them as you eye the prominent veins that disappear under the sleeves of his black shirt.

"Leon, calm the fuck down." He bites your neck in retaliation and you're glad some popular song plays over the speakers because the cheers that follow mask your moan.

What a ridiculous statement. Here you are, in his hands; perfect and handsome and sexy and yet — not his. It’s all a bit fucked up for him. Growing up alone, life offered no reprieve for little Leon Kennedy. His parents dying while he was young, then going to an orphanage — it all cemented into him that he was fine being independent. A partner sounded nice but he didn’t give it much thought.

Until you came.

Stubborn, silver-tongued, rich, handsome, so fucking handsome.

Not at all his type.

Waitlist, he hated that nickname. So he crashed a little late and unprepared for his first class. Sue him. Not his fault the school plucked out his name late too. Among the giggles of the classroom, yours stood out. It made sense since you were closest to him. Ashley was smacking your arm, sharing glances his way and you turned and mouthed a ‘sorry’ that Leon knew you didn’t even mean.

But then he kept seeing you around. Bumping into him during parties, always sitting near him in classes, accidentally hitting him in the face with a ball while you were chilling on the grass.

Fate was too perfect for him.

Leon was snarky and stubborn and he had nothing to give you that you already didn’t have.

But then, the night he saw you covered in blood. Everything seemed to shift. Because suddenly you weren’t this unreachable, little asshat with a wicked tongue and Leon was no longer a mutt with nothing to offer.

Suddenly, he saw that you were just as twisted and hungry as he was. A lone wolf with its teeth stained and its ribs showing under all that extravagant fur and Leon couldn’t resist himself chasing you after that.

The man who was bleeding out next to you had been desperate to try to sleep with you. The bruising around your neck and the dishevelled state of your clothes pieced the puzzle together. Leon used that to justify killing him.

For you. Just for you.

He was finally using the sharp teeth he had. Those blunt claws he’d been desperately trying to file down dug themselves into the dirt and he ran with you all the way down to Hell. Kicking the earth behind him, his breath visible as his teeth bare into a wolfish grin and you were right there.

Two lone wolves finding each other in a world full of rabbits and squirrels and deers.

Because that's what the both of you were. Not spiders with silk-weaved webs or snakes with venomous fangs. You were a wolf stalking its prey with your tongue lolled out and eyes so wide they shine like the moon.

Unapologetic killer.

If only you’d get the fact that you’re not a solitary animal into your thick skull.

Leon grunts when you pinch his sides, forcing himself to pull away with a disgruntled glare that you return.

“Did you hear what I said about the plan?” He tilts his head. “Was I supposed to?”

You click your teeth, placing your hands firmly on his chest to push him away. Leon resists but he lets you go after a split second.

“Christ, Waitlist.”

Leon reaches his hand out but you take a turn into the living area and suddenly he’s bumping into bodies. They’re bouncing and shaking and he feels like a sailor in rough waters.

“(Y/N)!” his voice doesn’t reach past his own nose. The music is so loud he doubts you’re even deliberately ignoring him. “God fucking dammit!” Leon ignores the hand that clumsily tried to seduce him and the glossy lips that follow it, just shouldering through the sea of people.

The kitchen hails no signs of you. He’s glad to see the beer run was successful enough and grabs a bottle of your favourite to soothe whatever it is he did.

“Leon! You’re here!” Ashley pops up from across the island and Leon smiles at her way. “Hey, Ashley. What’s up?” she eyes him skeptically and places her hands on the island. She quickly regrets this because of how suspiciously sticky it is but doesn’t miss a beat as she asks him; “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen (Y/N) but I guess those beers are for him.”

Ashley wraps her hand around a can and uses the condensation to somehow alleviate the stickiness. She would use the sink but with the state of a poor boy vomitting inside it and the amount of couples fucking in the bathrooms, this was the best she could do.

“Actually,” Leon sighs, “I was gonna ask if you’ve seen him.”

Her shock is evident but to Leon’s surprise, it turns into exasperation.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Kennedy?” Ashley puts her hands on her hips and then points a finger at his way.

“He likes you. (Y/N) (L/N). He likes you, Leon Kennedy. So,” she comes around to him and despite the height difference, Leon feels slightly intimidated by her frown.

“Just fuck his brains out and tell him you’re not gonna let him go! That’s the only way you’re getting through to him, okay? God, I swear the both of you are so dimwitted!”

Ashley walks away and Leon stands there for a second to process what he’d just been told. The beginnings of a smile threaten to crawl onto his face so Leon purses his lips and just walks on towards the hallways to see if you’ve snuck into any of the rooms there.

He instead finds another person. Quite literally, they were shoved straight into his chest (thank god the beer was in a bottle). It takes a minute for Leon to notice him, really notice him, but after their half-assed apologies are shares Leon sees who it is.

From over his shoulder, he spots your half-hidden face just as you slink out of view.

“Hey, you’re...Michael, right?” the brunette perks up considerably and nods. “You’re in Mr Pinto’s class?”

Michael jumps into the conversation. “I am!” he exclaims though considering the state of the party, it is not out of place. Leon smiles charmingly and leans on the wall, offering Michael one of the bottles he’s holding.

His hands practically tremble to take it.

“You’re pretty smart, huh?” Michael scoffs at his words, his cheeks flushed despite not one sip taken. “I guess you can say that, I mean, 4.0 GPA but yeah. I guess I am pretty smart.”

This was going to be a long night, Leon thinks as he takes a swig.

Dancing with Michael proved to be easier than talking to him. He’s much more pleasant when you can’t hear him bragging about being the smartest guy in the room or how his sister is as dumb as bricks (”It’s no wonder she resorted to bulimia as a last resort to get hitched” “Oh, wow.”).

Leon thought rich kids were already unbearable but the smart rich kids were worse. The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that he’d see glimpses of you. A sliver of (H/C) coloured through the flashes of light. At times, he swears he even hears your laughter through the crowd and music.

Michael grabs at his arms and pretends to be coy as he squeezes and asks how much Leon works out. “I see you runnin’ sometimes!” And Leon suppresses the urge to cringe at how close his face is.

Did this make him an asshole? All this pretending to be nice, if God was real, was he shaking his head at Leon?

‘ If God was real he’d open the gates of hell to swallow you up the second you were born, ‘ he thought derisively.

But then, the Devil answers his question in the form of you. He sees you dancing, hands up in the air with your teeth bared in a giant grin. Leon's entranced; your arms slither down to your neck and Leon's not sure how he sees it with the flashing lights but he can see the hickeys he left on you. Michael is speaking, his ears relay to him. But he can’t pull his eyes from you. Leon doesn’t understand how you do it.

When you’re in the room it’s as if you’re the sun; the very center of his universe and he wants to implode into you. Be devoured and destroyed within your maw. A hand on his face and Leon is now staring at Michael. God, he’s staring at Michael.

Before he can speak, Leon asks; “Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?”

They’re in the back of the house now. Music is more muffled despite the way the walls reverberate. The wood panelling must be screaming from the LED strip lights pasted on it. All the lamps had a red cloth over them, the room would look terrifying if it weren’t for the clouds of smoke and slurred giggling from the bodies on the bean bags.

Michael’s palms get clammy and Leon pretends he doesn’t feel it. Deeper in the room, at the back, where the cove of a past reading nook was built. The heavy velvet curtains stink of weed and cigarettes. He doubts the stains at the end are anything but alcohol or vomit. Aptly named make-out nook, the windows are covered by old sports magazines so no one from the outside can gawk.

Leon pressed Michael to the window panes and he gasps, hands coming to rest on Leon’s waist. He does that annoying squeezing thing that makes Leon’s skin crawl. His lips are on him and Leon narrows his eyes, staring at the smiling bodybuilder with his bulging muscles and tanned skin. Superman underwear and all. Leon wonders what he’d think of the sight before him; if any of these frozen-in-time athletes coo and gasp at the scandalous activities this nook has seen.

The curtains rustle as Michael chews on Leon’s lower lip. He’s biting down harder than he should — Leon jerks back, hissing softly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry — Are you okay?” Michael pauses as the curtains part and your giggles flood through, tendrils of smoke slipping through your teeth. An act. You’re closing in for the kill, and Michael has nowhere to run.

Still, he looks oh-so-smug as he tightens his grip on Leon.

“Leon?” you gasped while Michael sneered at you as he took a handful of Leon’s crotch. Both pretend not to feel how soft he is. He squeezed and purred. Leon’s eyes remained on you, brows raised in a challenge. “He’s busy with me, (L/N). So move along,” Leon slid his toned arms around his waist. The sight was like a match being struck, and your eyes burned with fury.

‘ Now? ‘ his eyes ask. You nod, reaching for the pocket knife you tucked away in your (Leon’s) leather jacket.

‘ Now. ‘

Leon wanted to kiss you so badly that he felt his fingers shake as he reached for his own hidden knife.

“Dude, not cool. You can’t make out with me like 10 minutes ago then just make out with someone else!” You exclaim, clambering into the nook and letting the curtains naturally slip close. “Leon — c’mon,” you beg so sweetly when you’re pretending. Michael sighs, getting his filthy hands off Leon, and faces you.

One finger jabs at your chest and you tilt your head at it.

“Fuck off, alright? Not everyone is dying to fuck your used hole —“

He inhales sharply, lashes fluttering as metal sheathes itself into his flesh. Leon pulls out his knife and then plunges it inside his back.

Again and again and again and again and again.

Michael braces his arms on your shoulders, and your breath shudders. He looks up at you in panic. He doesn't pay attention to the knife you’re holding too, he inhales and the way his mouth opens tells you he’ll try to scream.

The blade sinks through his neck, and when he tries to swallow the blood that floods his airway you can feel his muscles and Adam’s apple squish and move it. So you twist and dig in deeper. Leon’s blade pulls out again, blood is quickly spreading beneath Michael’s legs but the room is already cast in red — as if anyone would see.

“You enjoyed the little shit, Kennedy?” Michael claws at your jacket as you tilt the knife up, slicing through more of him until he starts spasming. His choking and gasping makes you groan in relief, breathing in his death with a smile.

"He was". You don't dare pull out the knife. Not now. A little puddle of blood is fine but more than people will really notice. The thrill of it all is too much for Leon; the crowd of people being hidden only by curtains, a warm body sputtering and choking on you as you held the knife; your eyes staring up at him with nothing but adoration in them.

Try to deny him as much as you want, (Y/N). You can't hide from Leon's hunger.

Ashley's voice echoes through his head.

"Kept groping you like some sort of pervert, what a fucking loser. Heard he got caught stalking the swim team captain. Pathetic, right? Think we can drag this pile of shit to the pool?"

Why are you talking about this waste of space?

Leon grabs him and with no more than a grunt, tosses Michael's body to the window pane where he thuds and slides down onto the floor. Splatters of blood spray onto the magazine covers, forever staining them just like the vomit stains on the curtains, and Leon pushes you against the window.

You replace the knife you held with Leon's jaw, smiling into the kiss as he sticks his tongue into your mouth. Fuck, he tastes good. Like your favorite beer. He's relentless as his hands grab the mounds of your ass.

From the outside, people snicker at the thumps they can hear.

"Fuuuck, Leon — Mfph, you're so fuckin' hasty," you groan. "Sorry for rushing when — fuck — when there's a dead body next to you."

You laugh and when Leon dives in again to suck the soul of your body he tastes the heavy smoke of marijuana lingering in your mouth. Michael is grunting, attempting to pull out the knife in his neck and you're especially cruel as you dig the heel of your shoes into his crotch. When he groans spurts of blood come out of him like a deflated waterbed.

"You're acting like this is something new," you retort. Leon just focuses on your neck again. Sucking over his marks and the slight pain that follows causes you to moan, gripping onto a fistful of his hair as your legs part.

What did Ashley say exactly? Fuck your brains out and tell you he's never letting you go?

He kneels abruptly, you're still catching your breath when he licks up your stomach, his bloodied knife now in his hand. You help him by lifting up your top, watching him lap at your happy trail with a dark blush across your face.

"Gonna suck my dick? You miss it that much?" Leon does not reply. Instead, he unbuttons your pants and you're chewing on your lip in excitement, gulping thickly as he pulls it down under the swell of your ass.

There's a wet patch on your underwear and Leon moans, pulling your pants down even further until it pools at your ankles. His knife is cold on your outer thigh, you hiss softly as the edges press and nick you but his tongue lapping at your dick through the cloth derails any complaints.

"Shiiit, Leon — " he slips the knife under your underwear, the serrated edges licking at your hips before a riiiiiiip! is heard. Ashley would be pissed knowing one of the designer underwear she gave you as a gift was purposefully torn apart but perhaps she'll be forgiving knowing it was to fulfill horny, filthy, purposes.

He must be really fucking excited. Leon's tongue is making a wet spot appear on your underwear and as if flimsily slips away from your hips, you swear you can feel the growl he releases as he sucks your exposed dick.

It twitches on his tongue, flushed from his attention as his tongue laps underneath it and his lips wrap around it.

"You miss me, baby?" You let out a sound of confusion at the question. "Yeah, you fuckin' do. You're so fucking hard."

Was he...was he talking to your cock?

"Bet you're dripping for me too, hm?" "Leon, what the fuck are you — "

The knife is now between your thighs, Michael's blood smearing itself there as he presses a kiss to your cock.

"If you're gonna cut me, wipe that pig's blood off." Your sneer is the last thing Michael sees as his eyes finally cloud over. In all honesty, you'd forgotten about him until now. The thought of his blood on you just disgusted you.

Leon wipes off his blood in his signature move; simply using your ripped undergarments in replacement of his gloves. Despite your annoyance, you won't deny how hot it was seeing him do it.

"Want me to cut you?" he hitches the blade to your inner thighs, the still-warm blade makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. "Can I?"

"...Not there. Somewhere else."

Leon stands, the tip of the blade on your stomach. He towers over you, his broad shoulders making your cunt ache for more. "Here?" You shake your head so he flicks his gaze to inspect your torso.

Taking the edge of your shirt from your hands, he instead slips it between your teeth and you narrow your eyes at him. With your hands free, you lean back onto the windows, chest rising and falling in anticipation as Leon traces the knife all the way up to your chest.

He pauses at your collarbone but you shake your head once again and so he lowers it to your pec. You shake your head but Leon is gazing at it intently. He strokes tenderly over the surgery scar then pulls the skin of your chest taut and before you can protest he digs the tip of the blade in.

You bite down on your shirt, hissing as he drags down the tip. Crimson seeps through, beading up like delicate pearls before it gushes out in small streams. Leon's knee digs up your cunt and the spark of pleasure makes you lurch forward to grip Leon's shoulders. He pushes you back, the thump once again earning giggles from the group on the outside.

"You know I love you, (Y/N). I'm sick and tired of pretending you don't love me back."

Bewildered, you stare at him with furrowed brows.

He twists the blade and you inhale sharply as he slices it, lifting the knife at the end which cuts you shallowly at the end of his...symbol?

What the fuck was he cutting into you?

"Since you're too fucking stubborn to accept it, I'll make sure you know it. I don't know what rich boarding school trauma you have or if mommy and daddy never showed you how love is supposed to work — you're fucking mine."

He drags the blade down, three quicks slices follow and your eyes well with tears while your hips gyrate down on the delicious friction he has provided.

"You think I won't understand you? Think I'll hurt you? I'm the only one in this fucked up world that'll love you unconditionally, Trustfund. I love you, (Y/N)."

The next letter — you belatedly realize — hurts more as he carves a jagged O.

"I love you. I love you, I fucking love you, I'll love you till the day we die, and even in Hell, I'll find you and I'll love you."

N hurts less, Leon's gotten the hang of the angles and how quick and deep he should do it.

"I'll burn the whole fucking world down if it meant I could stay by your side."

Your chest is bleeding, rivers of red escaping and it stings in the cool air so Leon presses himself closer. The warm of his body on yours numb out the pain of the pressure he had applied. Blood is staining your torso, dripping and mixing with your slick and his jeans and you're so turned on you can't find the words.

Leon just kisses your cheek, licking up the tears that escaped and you moan as he kisses you.

Leon thinks his ears are fucking with him. He pulls back, not far enough to let your lips leave his but far enough that he can look at you. There's a dopey grin on your face, and he can feel the shape of your lips as you speak.

"Luh — Love you too, Leon...Love you s'fuckin' much."

It's a miracle no one has pulled the curtains back.

Maybe the noises were keeping them away. Everyone's a voyeur until the chance is actually presented in front of them, right? Hearing the both of you is enough. Seeing is too embarrassing.

You're completely wrong, by the way. Ashley had chased everyone out, locked the goddamn door of this red room with a giggle. Not knowing the true horrors that were hidden.

It was for the best.

Leon has you lifted in his arm, lapping up at the blood on your sternum as his cock bullies in and out of your cunt. The gymnast staring at him from over your shoulder makes him grin and he pulls you firmly down onto his cock, groaning as you squeal.

"Fuh — Fuck! Fuck! Leon!"

You're gripping onto whatever leverage you can find purchase off without ripping off the pictures. But he's balls deep and you keen, hands finding itself tangling with the curtain rod. Leon is so rough, so intent on destroying your cunt as his hot breath protects his name from the air, every jostle and thrust makes you clench around his cock like a vice.

"Fuck, this boypussy's made just for me, huh? Sucks me in every time I pull out, greedy little cunt." His words are making your vision blur with tears, he latches onto your nipple and your arm jerks.

The curtain rod falls with a crash and Leon immediately pulls you in. He shield your naked body with his own, completely ignoring the dead body inches away. He expects horrified screams. The both of you are greeted with silence instead.

The room is empty.

More space to fuck you in, he thinks as he smirks.

Limply, you lay out like a starfish on the couch. Cunt gaping and slick with your juices and blood and his spit. His dick is streaked with blood and your cum coating it, he spits a glob off spit onto your dick and you whine, reaching for a throw pillow to hold onto as he uses his thumb to jerk it.

"Fuck, you look so fucking handsome right now."

"How...how have you not cummed yet...?" You pant out, hips lifting and twisting in an attempt to escape Leon's thumb. He presses your hips down with his other hand and you groan, eyes rolling back.

"Needa' make up for lost time," he says as he licks his lips. "Missed this hole so badly. Shit, look at the way he's winking at me."

"Stop talkin' to my cunt!" He grunts as you kick his shoulder, turning to bite into your calf with a gleeful chuckle.

"Fuck, I wanna make a movie with you." Your pretty little prince-y parts are more forthcoming than you are. Your cock jumps and he sees the way you squeeze down.

"Say less, baby." You try to kick him again but he leans back faster than you. He meanders towards his discarded pants, pulling out his phone. You try to catch your breath, one arm tossed over your eyes as your legs go lax, thighs twitching as you try to calm your heart rate.

The light from his phone feels warm, but maybe that's just you being sensitive. He makes sure it takes in all the details of his carved name, then pans down to your sopping hole and a throaty moan escapes you as his fingers slip inside with ease.

"Jesus, I can feel your heartbeat." The casual way he says it makes you whine, he pumps his three fingers in and out before curling it up, and your back arches. The cutest "ah!" coming from you.

He hopes the phone picks it up. He admires the way you as he lines up his cock to your cunt. Slides it through your lips, hissing in pleasure as he bumps his cock with yours, and you squirm, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Leon, cum in me. Please, fucking Christ, just cum in me already."

His cock is so thick. The stretch of it never fails to make your mouth open in a silent scream, choked-out moans of his name or God escaping. When his balls smack against you, you see white behind your eyelids, and Leon chuckles as he feels your walls spasm around him.

He pulls back. The streaks of liquid on his cock just make him all the more eager. Leon lets the camera take in your body as it takes him. Plowing into you with abandon, bracing himself on his fist as his hips rattle yours.

"Fuck, yes. Tighten up around me, that's it, baby. Yeah, that's it."

He angles the phone away, wanting to see your face without it blocking him. It falls onto the floor and Leon steals your breath away as he kisses yo. His mouth tastes like blood and beer and you.

His brows pinched as his back rippled with pleasure. "I'm close," he warns and you whimper, locking your ankles behind him just as you wrap your arms behind him.

"C'mon, baby. Fill me up, yeah —Nghah! Yeah! There, right there! Fill me up, Leon, please — Ah!"

Pressing his forehead with yours, he claims your lips once again and his thrusts get sloppy, uncoordinated. He comes with a moan of your name, sheathed in as deep as he could get and the warmth that fills you makes your cunt clench around him tightly, milking him as your orgasm washes over you for one last time that night.

"Fuck, (Y/N)..." Leon presses gentle kisses to your cheek, stroking your neck as he pants.

"I...I promised Ashley I was gonna jog with her tomorrow," you mumble out, whining as Leon's hips stutter into you. He chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck.

"I'll take responsibility." "You better."

"Poor Michael," Ashley's brows slope as she watches the TV replay the news.

You're honestly impressed Leon managed to sneak out with the goddamn body, he wrapped it up in the curtain if you recalled, and placed it on his backseat. Leon didn't wanna leave you in the car but you were passed out, sleeping peacefully. So he spent a good hour or two just tossing the guy's body in the school's pool.

When you came to, you were at home with him wiping you down and your chest wrapped up.

It's been a week since the two of you were official, Michael's case seemed more and more hopeless — Leon had done a good job erasing traces of evidence. Like a proper killer.

His fingers squeeze your calves, and you groan softly, curling your toes as he massages it. Ashley turns back to peek at the both of you. You with your legs splayed over Leon's lap and him casually working out the kinks in them, all while you were wrapped with a blanket around your shoulders.

"You two aren't the slightest bit scared? He was at the party y'know. Michael and that Ghostface dude," she shudders and looks ahead at the screen. "Fuck, what if I made out with him!?"

Leon snorts, shaking his head. "I'm sure you didn't, Ash." You nod in agreement, adjusting the pillows under you, ignoring the sting of the wound under the bandages.

"Bet if you did, you'd know. He'd be so fucked up you'd probably taste blood in his mouth or somethin' freaky like that." Leon glances your way, and you give him a grin.

Ashley pouts, sinking back. You reach a hand out to play with her golden locks. It makes her shoulders droop and she leans back to you.

"You didn't even know the guy, Ashley. Ya' know what they say about killers, right? They only kill the people they know, you know any killers?"

She thinks about it.

"...You scream at the sight of a cockroach and Leon can barely parallel park without getting teary-eyed..."

"Hey," Leon's ears turn red. "That was one time and everyone was staring, okay?"

Ashley laughs, shaking her head as she switches the channels. Yeah, you were right! She didn't know any killers. She was safe hiding out here in your apartment with Leon until the police wrapped up their investigations.

As long as she had the both of you, she'd be safe. Which she wasn't wrong about — Ashley meant too much to you to be hurt. Her mother didn't have to worry about the Ghostface killers attacking her, the two of them were right behind her. Braiding her hair, asking if she wants popcorn for their movie night.

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #gay reader #male reader insert #male!reader #ftm reader #transmale reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x male reader

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cxyotl · 1 year

Text

Piglin stuff bc im. bored and kinda sad.

-Piglins are a Netherian race of anthropomorphic boars. The term “piglin” is an Overworld name for the race, literally meaning “pig-like” or “derived from pigs”. the term was adopted by the piglins, who’s word for themselves could be translated to a similar phrase.

-Piglins are matriarchal and live in clans but the eldest son of the clan is trained as a brute, or soldier in the multi-clan bastions as a representative. “brute” is, again, an Overworld name based on the Piglim word for soldier, which is a grunt that sounds a bit like the English word “brute”. the Piglin word is actually more like “brrutk.”

-Piglin language (Grüntish) is made up of a series of grunts, oinks, and squeals. one grunt can mean many different things based on culture, context, and tone. for example, take “brrutk”. that grunt or word can translate to soldier, eldest son, diplomat, or even villain depending on how the grunt is enunciated.

-Because Piglins naturally have a warmer body temperature, about 115° F or 46° C, cold temperatures are a better indicator of illness than warmer temperatures. the zombie virus, also known as the rotting disease, is a disease that happens when Netherians are exposed to colder temperatures or are ill enough that they become cold.

-The rotting disease pandemic hit the Nether severely, wiping out fauna and flora for a long time before it was managed. Piglins, their forests, and their main sources of food (hoglins and striders) were especially affected.

-Piglins make their clothes from hoglin and strider leather. Their main source of meat is hoglins, and they usually tame striders as transportation. Hoglins are sometimes captured and placed inside of bastions to protect the area or be released in battle against enemies, but this is extremely dangerous and therefore quite rare.

-Professions within Piglin clans are loose and unspecialized, since every clan member needs to learn and act as farmers, doctors, and hunters simultaneously. Matriarchs (Kruuk), heirs, and high-ranking men in clans do the same work as the rest of the clan

-Clans are family based, but sometimes can contain as many as four or five family units. These are organized and ruled by the oldest women from each family, all working together as one democratic “council”

-LGBT identities are honored in Piglin communities. transwomen who used to be brrutks are particularly respected for their ability to become kruuks and their experience in a bastion.

-Bastions (military bases that are organized and run by multi-clan alliances) are manned by the brrutks, prisoners, and volunteers. Serving in a bastion is both an honorable thing and a punishment depending on why you are there.

-Killing a hoglin is the most honorable thing a piglin can do, and an apprentice piglin (a younger member if a clan who is training) killing their first hoglin is a cause for celebration as it marks the end of their training. Hoglets (baby hoglins) are never hunted, but they can be captured to be brought into bastions.

#minecraft lore #piglins #minecraft headcanons

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baxndaid · 1 year

Text

1999/lmk sun wukong x reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! tbh this can be read as both 1999 or lmk OR literally anything else since this is taking place during the jttw !! SORRY FOR LONG ABSENCE </3

- you were a witch that was ordered to aid the pilgrim named Tripitaka on his quest to find the ancient scriptures

- you didn’t really know he’d have company though, even with your powers you could’ve never predicted that he’d be travelling with a monkey, a pig, and a sea wizard (not to mention their dragon horse)

- at first it was pretty rocky considering that when you revealed yourself to the group, the monkey (who was conveniently named monkey) attacked you with no hesitation

- in battle, you tried to show him the letter you received from the goddess Guan Yin, but it fell on deaf ears and he continued his attacks while calling you a liar

- he stopped as soon as the monk ordered for him to halt, with a bit of encouragement from the headband of course 😋

- you both floated down to your master

- you bowed and introduced yourself as y/n, and the group introduced themselves to you too

- pigsy took a liking to you (obviously)

- monkey did not

- sandy was neutral

- tripitaka was just glad he had another semi-sane individual in his group

- and so, you and your new companions continued with your journey to the west

- ANYWAY that brings you to where you are now 🗣️🗣️

the journey

♡ wukong didnt trust you much, even after a few months of traveling together

♡ he would allow you to do the same things he and his fellow companions did of course, but he would never let you stay and watch his master alone

♡ you did notice, but you didnt care, babysitting the monk wasnt exactly something you were dying to do as much as you respected him

♡ he did appreciate you for your skills, though

♡ Tripitaka managed to get kidnapped 4 times a week instead of 9 with you around 🥳

♡ for that, he warmed up to you

♡ just a smidge tho💔💔

♡ during the whole white bone demon/crimson witch saga; you defended monkey from the accusations of him killing a not so innocent young women

♡ you didnt feel as if he had a reason to lie, and even if you definitely werent his favourite person of the group, you still didnt want him to get punished for something that he did to protect his friends

♡ didnt work tho LMFAOO 😩

♡ he was soon banished from the group and went back to his home in flower fruit mountain in a sour mood

♡ you kinda felt bad but you kinda liked it like lmfaoo deserved 💔💔

♡ after the young monk got in trouble again, it was up to you to find monkey and get him to help you again

♡ you still don’t know why the hell pigsy made you do it, you just assumed he was being lazy and just wanted you to do all the heavy lifting

♡ you’d bully him later for compensation

♡ but for now your goal was to find monkey which was surprisingly easy considering his island was supposed to be incredibly difficult to find

♡ your task was easy, go to the island, get wukong, and come back

♡ it wasn’t easy 💯

♡ you ended up getting ambushed by a bunch of monkeys which you couldn’t take seriously since they were just so cute!

♡ they beat your ass

♡ they brought you to a stone throne with your ex-companion sitting on top of it, a dismissive look on his face and his head leaning on his hand

♡ they pushed you on your knees as the monkey king began to speak

♡ “state your name and your business here”

♡ “oh be quiet, unless you hit your head i expect you to remember me, it’s been like 2 days you dramatic ape”

♡ immediately you regret insulting him as his subjects hold you tighter and audibly chitter and gasp at your words

♡ you grunt “fine, i’m here to take you back to Tripitaka, he’s… in a tight spot” you look up at him to see his expression

♡ “why should i help him? he threw me away without a second thought!”

♡ you groaned, he had the right to be angry but you just wanted to get this over with, so you negotiated with him for a while

♡ a very long while

♡ he sighed, “fine” he got up from his throne “monkey subjects! your king is going on an important mission, you’ll have to do without me for a while” he said dramatically

♡ you playfully rolled his eyes as you watched him comfort the female monkeys, them clearly not wanting him to leave so soon

♡ after like 20 minutes you got bored, you took his hand and led him to your master, you were surprised he let you hold him for so long, he normally shoves pigsy off whenever he flings his arms around him after battle

♡ the rest of your friends rejoiced when they saw a certain monkey flying behind you, hand in hand

♡ pigsy had questions about why the two of you came back with hands intertwined and his mind immediately went straight into the gutter, and naturally, he got jealous

♡ he refused to talk to monkey for a week because of his assumption 😞

lego monkie kid masterlist

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h34rtbeat · 4 months

Note

OH OK It happens that I asked another user and he told me that they didn't write about that so I asked just in case

i imagined sunghoon making reader pray (in Latin) and spanking her telling her not to stop praying, i let you imagine the rest

I saw that the nuns before whipping themselves with ropes to get rid of their sins saying "mea culpa" so maybe that works too

I LOVE SO MUCH HOW YOU WRITE could I be 🌞 anon?

THANK U QUEEN!! yes u can be 🌞 anon! I will try my best to incorporate ur theme!! Warning this is anal.

MEA CULPA

pairings: priest!sunghoon x afab!nun!reader

warnings: slapping, power dynamics, anal fingering (f receiving), misogynistic behavior/words (sunghoon says some things that are kind of controversial about a woman’s place), hints of purity culture.

nsfw under the cut

His hands burned unlike any other, the slaps continuously adding to the tingling sensation on your ass.

Perhaps this wouldn’t have been embarrassing if it wasn’t your priest spanking you. You’ve done it yourself. You’ve punished yourself over and over, rebutting those sinful thoughts.

“Mea culpa, mea culpa!” You’d cry out, hands pressed together as you prayed to your lord. Though now, it seemed less of praying to your lord.

You were praying, begging for forgiveness from your priest.

Priest Sunghoon, some calling him ‘Hoon’ to make it shorter.

He was no short of sin, just like you weren’t. He was infatuated with you.

“A sister like you,” slap “belongs in the cavern,” slap “so that your sinful deeds don’t spread into the other sisters heads.” He grunted, adjusting the cotton gloves he always wore in this cold weather.

“You’re not pure, did you know?” He says, calmly as if he wasn’t making your asscheeks purple and marked.

“Sisters like you don’t belong here— girls don’t belong here. Ones who aren’t pure, shouldn’t be in the house of god.” Ah, that’s what you were here for after all. Defying a man on accident, saying you didn’t.. believe in the same principles.

“Women don’t belong in power, especially sinful women like you.” With your black dress already lifted, he slid your underwear to the side.

His cold brown eyes stared into your glistening cunt.

“I should punish you.” He muttered, taking off his gloves.

“N-no father, please, I’ll repent-! I swear I’ll-!” Your please cut off when his finger slid in your ass. You see, in his eyes, women are virgins.. if they aren’t fucked in the correct hole.

Your mouth going agape, yet nothing but a choked gasp leaves your throat.

“Father stop.. it doesn’t feel right!” You pleaded, yet you didn’t dare try to move your hands from the position they were in. Rosary dangling around your neck.

“And what do you suppose feels right, sister? Sinning? I’m merely cleansing you of your sins, so allow me or you’ll burn in hell.” Sunghoon says, sternly. Gushing noises coming from your ass, before he thought of something else.

“Keep praying, now. Make sure our Heavenly Father forgives you, sister.” He says, and you could feel his fingers going deeper.

“Please forgive me father, our heavenly— ngh!” Your words being cut off when you felt something thicker, heavier slide inside.

“Keep going.” Your priest demanded, eyes boring holes into your head.

“Our Heavenly Father who resides above us! Please forgive my sins!” You cried out, feeling Sunghoons grunts against your neck.

“Good. Now beg your father for forgiveness.”

“Forgive me please, father s-sunghoon!” You could barely say the sentence, his dick far up somewhere it should never be. But this is how women became pure again.

“Again.” He slapped your ass.

“P-please spare me of the wrath’s of satan, father! I have sinned, please forgive me!” Hot tears rolling down your cheeks, from pleasure and form naivety that you’d end up in hell.

All you wanted was to be forgiven, and sunghoon would make sure you’d be forgiven.

After all, what matters more to a sister like you, than to be forgiven by her head priest?

Shh shush

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daimyosprincess · 7 months

Text

SOME REX AND RELAXATION

—PAIRING: Rebels!Captain Rex x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

—WORD COUNT: 3.3k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, Rebels!Rex, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), Dom/sub vibes, Daddy kink (bc I can’t help myself), nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering

Please let me know if I missed anything! Mando'a translations are at the end.

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I miss Rex so this is getting posted today!!! After a rough week a bit ago, I started writing this as a comfort fic to make myself feel better and boy howdy, by the the end of it I was feeling way better 😈 Also: Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor deserve to live in comfy cottages in pastoral peace for the rest of their beautiful days. And I've decided that the clones age normally after the age of 25 so they have nice long lives ahead of them :)

This is my first ever Rex fic and I want to give a big shout out to my resident Rexpert @rexxdjarin for betaing this fic, I hope I did our captain justice 💙 Also thank you to @cloned-eyes for letting me use their amazing Rex art in my header!! That fresh out the shower Rex was some delicious inspo for this fic 🫠

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

The only thing worse than the day you’ve had was this week as a whole. Nothing had gone right with the New Republic school going up in town, and somehow the solution to several of those problems was what you’d said a week ago… but only when that bureaucratic sop from Coruscant said it. Not to mention the pipes burst in your apartment, you slipped down some stairs in front of a street full of people (with the worst bruise of your entire life to prove it), and to top it all off, you dropped your overpriced caf all over your shoes this morning.

Not a great week.

At this point, you’re only one minor inconvenience away from snapping—the fact that it’s the end of the work week is the only thing keeping you together. And, of course, your perfect, wonderful captain of a boyfriend, Rex. You’ve been staying at his farmhouse while repairs are made to the water lines that caused the damage at your place.

He and his brothers, Gregor and Wolffe, had come to your quiet little agricultural planet a couple years ago and fixed up a few of the old houses at the edge town to live in. They mostly keep to themselves, but are always willing to lend a helping hand when it’s needed, whether it’s making repairs after the annual monsoon, donating fresh produce for school meals, or digging out flooded irrigation ditches. They are good men and the town accepts them as part of their own, even if Wolffe is a little grumpy and Gregor turns all the local women into giggling messes when he’s around.

The three of them are mending a fence on the far side of the property when you arrive at the farmstead. Usually you would have taken your speeder over for a chat, but you don’t think you have it in you after today. All you want to do is take off your bra and flop face-down on Rex’s couch to wait for the world to stop sucking—which is exactly how Rex finds you when he comes inside a few minutes later.

“Another great day then, mesh’la?” he teases with the mirth of a man who already knows his question’s answer. His work boots make a thud on the stone tiles as he pulls them off.

Without looking up, you grunt a “no” into the cushions and shake your head.

“Do you want to come shower with me or do you need some alone time?”

“Alone time,” your muffled voice answers, “then Rex time. Lots and lots of Rex time.”

His warm chuckle and beard graze delightfully over the back of your neck as he bends to press a kiss to your hair. “Alright then, pretty girl. Just relax and I’ll be back to give you all the time in the world, okay?” You give him another muffled affirmative and he squeezes your calf affectionately before heading to the ‘fresher.

Maker, he’s good to you.

A year ago you would have never thought you’d find yourself in a long-term relationship with an ex-clone trooper who’s old enough to be your father, or that you would be calling said ex-clone trooper Daddy while he makes you see stars. The Force works in mysterious ways, you suppose… not that you’re complaining. Far from it.

Your relationship with Rex might have come as a surprise but you’ve never been happier: things with him are as close to perfect as they can get. He cares for you, makes you feel so safe and loved and warm that you could melt into a puddle at his feet, and you adore him. He’s kind, strong, and compassionate, a good leader through and through. The galaxy has never made a finer man, and not to mention, a finer lover.

Eventually, you muster the strength to roll yourself off the couch and ditch your work clothes for your much more comfortable loungewear, deciding to forgo panties as a nice little surprise for your boyfriend. Snuggling under his covers that smell of him, you flip onto your stomach to scroll through your datapad. Efficient as always, Rex doesn’t make you wait long, the ‘fresher door sliding open a few minutes later. The comforting, woody smell of his soap fills your nose as you take in his broad frame glistening from his shower.

Kark, he looks good. All broad shoulders and bronze skin, thick and perfect. How has no one made a statue of this man?

Noticing your interested stare, he winks as he hangs his towel on its hook. “Feeling better, mesh’la?”

You hum your delight and click off your tablet to give him your full attention. “Yeah, could be better, though,” you add with a sneaky smile.

“Oh yeah? How?” Flicking off the ‘fresher light, he starts towards you. The mischievous glint in your boyfriend’s eye is more than enough to get your blood pumping, especially combined with his shirtless upper half.

You flip up the covers next to you, grinning up at him. “Well for starters, you could get in the bed with me, handsome.” His brown eyes sparkle when he returns the expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly. “And then you can hold me and make me forget all about this entire kriffing week.”

Your captain is quite good at making you forget things, whether it be a bad day or your own name.

Obliging as always, Rex slides in behind you and loops an arm around your waist to pull you flush against his bare chest. Your body reacts immediately to his touch, the tension in your muscles slacking. He nuzzles into your neck, making you giggle from the way his beard tickles the sensitive skin there, and starts kissing every bit of you his lips can reach. When you try to squirm away from him and his beard, squealing and panting from your laughter, he just locks his big arms around you and keeps going.

“Eeee! Rex! S-stop, you’re tickling me-you’re tickling me!”

In between smacking kisses, he chuckles into your ear. “I thought you said you want me to make you forget about this week, mesh’la.” His hold loosens enough for you to wriggle around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and admiring how handsome he is up close.

You brush your lips over his, gently running your nails down the back of his neck and savoring the way he shivers at your soft touches; knowing you have such an effect on him makes your skin hot. “Well Captain,” you drawl with syrupy sweetness, “I was thinking something more along the lines of… this.” You roll your hips against his, sighing at the pleasant sensation.

Rex groans his rumbling approval and drops his large hands to your ass to grind you harder against his center. “Anything you want, baby, just tell me and it’s yours.”

You know what you want: to be taken care of after this shit-show of a week, to be kissed and loved and cherished like only he can, doted on and held safe in his arms. You want to completely let go and surrender—no more thoughts, no more worries, just him. Just Rex. Your perfect, perfect Rex.

Capturing his lips in an indulgent kiss, you whine your desire into his mouth when you break for air, not caring how needy you sound.

He shushes you with gentle sounds, stroking over your hair. “Of course, sweetheart,” he coos in a sinfully sweet voice, cradling your face between his palms, “you’ve had a hard week… yeah, I know, I know. You need Daddy to make it all better, don’t you?” He pulls you crushingly tight against the strong line of his body, just how he knows you like, holding all your pieces together so you don’t have to.

“Please,” you gasp, burrowing deeper into him, “Don’t wanna… don’t wanna be anymore. Just wanna be yours.” The ache of existence in your chest is already beginning to melt underneath his weight, replaced by the tender warmth of his devoted attention. The edges of your mind go liquid as you let him pour you into his mold.

“Daddy’s going to take care of you, all you have to do is listen and let him make you feel good, okay, babygirl?” You bob your head in a nod, your eyes starry and wide as you await his next instruction. Rubbing the back of your neck, Rex places an affectionate kiss on your forehead for your obedience. “Good girl. Now turn over, face out and back to me… lift your arms… yeah, just like that,” he murmurs as he slides your top off, planting wet kisses on the new skin exposed to him.

His battle-worn hands skim up the swell of your tummy to take in breasts. You’re already buzzing in eager anticipation. You push into his touch, pressing your chest out in an offer of more, and you’re to be quickly rewarded with a low groan and his fingers rolling your sensitive nipples deliciously slow. Wanting heat rises through you like a flame catching to dry tender while little mewls of pleasure fall from your lips.

“So beautiful, so warm, my sweet cyar’ika,” he purrs between more lush kisses, “I know this makes you feel good… I’m going to give those perfect tits the attention they deserve.” He gives your peaked tips a gentle pinch and you moan, the electric sensation shooting straight to swollen clit. Smiling at your vocal pleasure, Rex begins an erotic rhythm that has you bucking your hips as his fingers alternate between pinching and rolling.

“Ooohhh, y-you feel so… you feel s-so good,” you whine, writhing against his ministrations. With the way his breathing has gone hot and ragged in your ear, you swear it could be enough to make you come untouched.

“That’s it, pretty girl, just feel the pleasure… just concentrate on how good you feel, nothing else,” he instructs, his deep voice like golden honey to your ears. “Daddy’s got you now, he’s gonna take care of everything. He doesn’t like seeing his baby so stressed and unhappy.” Rex latches onto your pulse point, sucking your heated flesh into his mouth and sending waves of pleasure throbbing through your nerves.

“Nev-never unhappy with you,” you pant, reaching your hand back to push him deeper into your neck. Rex is your shining sun who banishes all of life’s many darknesses, and the match which lights the fire of your loins. He’s everything to you, and right now, he’s all you can feel and see and smell. It’s utterly divine.

“Mmm, that makes me so happy to hear, you know why? Making you happy, taking care of my beautiful babygirl… it makes me happy. Daddy loves being there for his cyar’ika and he’d do anything to put a smile on her face, you know that?” Cupping your jaw, he tilts your head back to steal the little gasps of delight dripping sugary-thick from your lips. As hot and heavy as things have become, Rex doesn’t rush. He takes his time licking into your mouth and nibbling on your slicked bottom lip, all the while kneading and rolling your breasts, ever the man to keep his word.

Molten heat rushes through your veins as his words pour over your skin, spurring you onto new heights under his generous hands—the deep swell of his voice loosens the taunt aggravation of the week still stowed in your muscles. You’re like lavish wax under his care, worked pliable by him then molded into a work of weightless art, your very existence something to be admired.

His calloused fingertips sweep over the plushness of your lower belly, the shimmering heat of your arousal converging at his touch. When he dips below the fabric of your waistband, he sucks in a breath. “No panties, pretty girl? Now you’re the one spoiling me,” he groans, his cock twitching against the cage of your back.

You let out a delighted, breathy giggle at his body’s reaction to the discovery. “I thought you might like that,” you breathe out fond and pleased, “I did it just for you.”

He brushes lower, his middle finger tracing over the damp seam of your folds and a whimper sneaks through your smile at the feathery sensation. It’s these light, almost subatomic touches that make you come loose at the seams—and he knows it. Inside the year that you’ve been together, Rex has learned your body intimately, its history and inner workings revealed in the hours you spent in his arms.

“I love to hear your sweet little laugh, and I love to know that you’re smiling,” he murmurs affectionately, cupping your slick mound, “I’m so proud of you for letting me take some of the weight off you after this difficult week.” He takes a moment to plant kisses in the soft crook of your neck and up to your ear before continuing. “Now, just lie back, let me make you feel all warm and sweet. I want to watch you melt for me… melt and leave me with all your sweet honey to lick up.”

Each word shaped by his rich rasp further unmoors you from your senses. That sensual tingling feeling of submission bubbles pleasantly across your mind, your bones softening to downey cotton as you lose yourself to the sound of Rex’s voice. You can’t tell where the vibration of your own sounds of pleasure end and his begin, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, so, so safe and happy here in the glowing space between his arms. If only you could have him inside, too…

“C-can I have more, please? Want more of you, baby,” you pant, grinding into his palm between your thighs.

“Of course, mesh’la, you can have whatever you like. Anything and everything, all you have to do is ask.” Pressing into your lower lips, he spreads you apart. Your teeth immediately catch your lip when his trigger finger begins languidly sliding over your buzzing clit; the delicious friction fans the flames of your desire, heating you from the inside out. A rumble of satisfaction rolls up his chest when your head falls back against his shoulder with a contented sigh.

Rex takes advantage of the new access you allowed him, dragging his hot lips over your collarbone to nip and suck little marks onto your heated skin. “Mmm, I love touching you, I love feeling you,” he hums, thick and heady, “I want you to feel how much I care about you…” He scrapes his teeth up your tender throat to capture your mouth with his own.

Stars-Maker-kriff does he kiss like a god. A king amongst men, really, who- “Oh!”

Your eyes fly open as your captain easily flips you under him like a ragdoll, pulling your pants down and flinging them over his shoulder in one fluid motion that has you gushing.

“That’s better,” he mutters between hot mouthed-kisses down your sternum and over your tummy. The way his beard scrapes over your skin has chillbumps flowering all over. “It fills me up with so much happiness when I get to love on my sweet cyar’ika and take care of her. Makes everything else go away for me, too, sweetheart. I get to just focus on you.”

His large hands skate down your ribs then down the curve of your hips to massage the fullness of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting to worship this perfect pussy, pull all those pretty sounds out of you while you come over and over… just like you deserve.”

You’re nothing more than a warm soup of sparkling sensation, swirling around the ache building in your core. Rex isn’t usually one to tease you, but it feels like he’s taking an eternity to make it between your-

“Ohhhh, Reeeex!”

Wrapping his thick arms around your thighs, he literally lifts you up to his mouth, moaning like a man tasting some paradisic fruit after months in the desert. “Fuck, babygirl, your little pussy… I could feel hot and needy it was when you were rubbing up against me, how wet and messy you were… but this? Kark. I’m so lucky to be able to kiss all over this beautiful cunt. So lucky to have this pussy, this ass,” he gives an appreciative squeeze to your behind, “and this sweet little girl all to myself.”

The air is suctioned from your lungs by the gravity of his pleasure; it’s unrelenting and all-consuming, it’s all you can comprehend. Squeezing your eyes shut in focus, you manage a reply. “S-so l-lucky to have you, Rex. You’re s-so good to me… love you… love you so much.” You cut off with a shuddering cry when he sucks your bud between his lips, not caring that you’re swiftly losing a battle you don’t want to win.

“I love you so much, my mesh’la,” he pants into your heat. “My sweet, precious girl, I’m going to give you my fingers, okay? Gonna give you just what you need so you can come all over my face.” He slips two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking and releasing them with pop before easing into your soaked entrance. The twin sounds of your satisfaction fill the room, the stout stretch of his fingers making you moan while the clutch of your cunt has your captain grunting praises against your clit.

“Kark, you’re so tight and wet, so perfect… clenching around me,” he crooks his fingers as much as he can in the restrictive walls, “Don’t hold back, beautiful, let me hear you. Let me hear how good you feel.”

His words scorch your nerves to ash with a molten magma of pleasure that erupts from your core. Your spine bows up, making Rex find the soul-shattering spot that makes you scream in ecstasy. The world around you snaps into sharp focus, bright and loud before exploding in a shower of stars and lambent energy. You’re unmade, unwound down to your most basal form of hot-blooded, carnal need where time and worldly matters no longer reign in your existence. Primal satisfaction and the thrill of euphoria rule you instead for several effervescent moments.

When the flood of electricity flowing from every cell and synapse begins to ebb to jolting aftershocks, the sweet praise of your lover floats over you in warm waves. “So beautiful like this… keep going mesh’la, take what you need… I love you so much… love making you feel good, love feeling your perfect pussy on my fingers…”

Reverent kisses are bestowed like offerings to the divinity of your pleasure as you materialize back into reality one pounding heartbeat at a time. Joy radiates from every molecule in your body, the stress of the mortal coil dissolved and washed far away, leaving you light, free, and happy. You want nothing more than to revel in this glorious sensation with the love of your life, and you call out to your captain with a breezy sigh, “Rex…”

“Cyare…”

“Want you close, my love, want you to hold me.”

You barely register his movement in your hazy after-glow, but soon your chest is pressed against a familiar wall of muscle and there’s a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Snuggling into his open warmth, you nuzzle into his neck and inhale Rex’s timber-fresh scent.

Safe… happy… love. Him. Forever.

Your hazy thoughts drift across the clear sky of your mind, eventually coalescing into a nebulous sentiment your lips can form around. “Rex… love you so much… thank you, baby.”

Curling around you tighter, Rex’s beard brushes over your shoulder as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Anything for you, my sweet, perfect girl,” he smiles into your hair, “You are everything to me, the light of an old soldier’s life. I will always take care of you, my mesh’la, no matter what.”

And with the certainty only love can bring, you know him to be true.

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

cyare - beloved, love

cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling, (a diminutive of cyare)

mesh'la - beautiful

#once again i will think i am clever with these titles lmao #zwei writes #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex x you #captain rex fanfic #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex smut #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #some rex and relaxation fic

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 7 months

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Which cullen would fall prey to an mlm scam first

You mean a pyramid scheme?

Well, the trouble with pyramid schemes, is they can be surprisingly tricksy even if you know what to look for. They're very good at reeling you in and convincing you it's different somehow than a pyramid scheme. See, it's shaped like a funnel and not a pyramid! Or you earn income based on how much you sell and then you can enter another tier!

A lot of people who would think they'd never get roped into a pyramid scheme can end up sucked into one if they're not wary.

But alright, let's do it.

Alice

Alice doesn't fall into this for a few reasons.

The first is that her gift stops her, she sees this venture won't make her money but will get her saddled with a shitty product she can't peddle fast enough to break even.

Alice is perfectly content playing with the stock market.

The second is that Alice wouldn't be interested. She has her own way of making more money than she could ever hope to being a salesman and she'd have no interest in selling the kinds of products that pyramid schemes usually do (which are generally mass produced, cheap, and rarely have any quality to them). Alice wouldn't think they're good products and would have no interest in trying to market them herself and sell them to others.

Bella

Doomed.

Give Bella the right pitch, (and many of these are aimed towards women trying to support themselves), and she's there selling what she believes is a great makeup product/clothes line/what have you and refusing to believe she's made a terrible mistake and been conned along with all these earnest other women.

Edward I imagine has to get rid of the product for her and get her out of the hole (Bella's pride never lives this down).

Carlisle

Carlisle's been in the human world long enough, interacted with it more than the others, and is generally very particular about how he should be viewed and seen that I don't see him biting.

"I am human doctor man" Carlisle says, and has no intention in pursuing any other means of income or anything that would make him not look like human doctor man who is definitely 39 why do you ask?

It's not even a matter of him being swayed or not, he's not listening close enough, and likely makes his earliest escape.

Edward

Edward's actually in a little danger in part because of his gift. The thing about pyramid schemes is that those in the lower tiers (even the mid tiers) aren't in the know. They may suspect it's a pyramid scheme, and that they're in too deep to get out, but it's the ones at the top who really planned the thing. The very low-level grunts generally believe it's a real company (it's how they get hooked and sucked in).

If Edward were to meet someone trying to hook him in (as you generally get rewards for recruiting others) then there's a chance.

Now, the chance is small, because like Alice, Edward's comfortable with his money and has 0 desire to work or be a salesman (notice Edward just goes to high school, then university and never goes off on his own or with one of the others to get a job).

That said, I could see Edward being tricked into believing it's a good product, a good cause, and more by people who earnestly believe it. More, because Edward doesn't really doubt his gift, it might not occur to him that these people are also being lied to or else are lying to themselves.

Edward also believes himself intelligent enough that he'd never fall for a pyramid scheme and so would be less wary of it.

Basically, still unlikely as Edward would never get dragged to one of these meetings or into it, but not impossible and much more likely than Alice.

Emmett

Doomed.

If he was taken to the right pitch, for the right product, even though he himself would never use it he'd think it'd be so cool that of course he should sign up. Hey, then he can make some dough for a change, how about that Alice.

It doesn't last long, though, as Rosalie tells him, "Honey, this is a pyramid scheme".

(It also doesn't last long as no one would ever pitch Emmett as he looks fucking terrifying and he's huge).

Esme

Esme's so nice, I could easily see her being essentially bullied into joining. The thing is, she actually doesn't get in too deep because she never depletes her initial stock and has no hope of doing so. Esme doesn't go out enough or interact enough with others to actually sell the product so the terrible makeup brand just... sits there...

She's out some amount of money, but she won't dig herself into the hole that usually happens in pyramid schemes where, with the taste of initial success, you just keep going.

Jasper

Jasper's too scary. The others are all too scary but Jasper's really too scary. He's never approached and if he was I imagine him staring dully at these human products not sure what he is supposed to do with them or how he's supposed to sell them with his face.

Renesmee

Doomed.

Renesmee has no idea how anything works and is ridiculously sheltered by the Cullens. I doubt 'theft' is even a concept she understands nor is 'money' for that matter. Now, this might help her, as she has no idea how to sell anything, but like Esme she probably gets conned into signing the dotted line and making the initial purchase because the nice salespeople tell her it's a great idea.

Rosalie

Rosalie has been through a lot and is naturally wary and skeptical of others. More, while liking to be the prettiest in the room, she doesn't seem all that weak to flattery from what we see of her. Rosalie would be immediately suspicious of anyone trying to sell her anything or get her to do something as she'll be immediately wondering what they get out of this and why they're trying so hard.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #the cullens #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #bella swan #edward cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #renesmee cullen #jasper whitlock #rosalie hale #meta #headcanon #opinion

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iamafanofcartoons · 9 months

Text

Reasons to love Cinder Fall from RWBY, by June / Blightmxb on Twitter

1. Her outfits.

She's had MORE wardrobe changes than any other RWBY character. she's a fashion victim and she looks GORGEOUS while doing every evil deed

2. Her story.

She's the survivor of an abusive environment in a world where nothing was given to her, she learned that taking the things she wants is the only way to survive. She's such a tragic villain cause there was never a kind hand that could've lead her on a different path

3. Jessica Nigri's VA skills.

I cannot stress enough how much i LOVE Cinder's voicing. Her velvety voice when she's being mean, her grunts of frustration, how raw she sounds when she FIGHTS. Jessica Nigri does a marvellous job for her volume after volume!

4. She's a girlfailure.

She has been defeated numerous times by a little girl, has been allegedly killed by another maiden, challenged by Jaune (affectionate), kicked by THE Blake Belladonna. The list of failures goes on and i support her ALWAYS coming back

5. Her powers.

She can materialize incandescent cristals, fire, make any given weapon on the spot and BREATHE FIRE. how absolutely COOL is that !!

6. How PETTY she is.

"Do you believe in destiny?" "Yes." // "Someone once asked me if I believed in destiny and I'm happy to say I still do" Cause after coming back from the dead (almost) she es yet again ready to commit atrocities to become even stronger, i respect her tenacity

7. She looks so awesome.

The atrocities look GOOD on her and she is a feast to the eyes when she's on screen

8. She is an overconfident, manipulative, intelligent, ruthless, cunning, villain who knows exactly how to get what she wants AND she's a woman.

Enough of morally corrupted men in media, I want morally corrupted WOMEN who are POWER-HUNGRY & not afraid to take what they want !!

9. If Ruby is the light of RWBY, Cinder is the shadow.

As the show goes on, Ruby & Cinder both face failure, loss, trauma and they both slowly lose parts of themselves. But while Ruby overcomes the struggles and becomes better, Cinder doesn't change her ways and becomes worse

10. Her Cinderella theme

i'm obsessed with how she's based on cinderella but she mirrors that entire tale and instead of becoming kind and forgiving and loving she becomes ruthless, cold hearted, and vengeful

11. She is the heart of the conflict in RWBY.

She’s the only consistent villain that brings conflict to the story. Grimm are background threats, & Salem & the other villains have less impactful scenes but Cinder is ALWAYS at the centre of the main events that further the plot

12. She would give it a shot to bisexuality.

And I think that's very cool of her to love women !!

13. Overall, I think she's a pivotal character in the RWBY universe who stirs things up and gives us such memorable (and painful) moments and I just love a complex and morally dubious villain !!

Disclaimer, cause I know you guys like to take things out of context. Do I condone her actions? No. She's done terrible things and she'll have to pay for them. Do I think she deserves a happy ending? I think she's too far gone for any hope of redemption, so probably no.

I personally don't want her to die, but knowing how RWBY works there's a slim chance she'll survive after what she's done. So. I would like her to hit rock bottom so hard she realizes she's neck deep in the wrong path, but she can still do One Good thing before she's done for(+)+) and that is sacrifice herself for Ruby. Or save her/help her in any capacity when all seems lost and she's too far gone to survive. Her own little redemption to all the terrible things she's done. That isn't enough but it's Something. I want her dark life to end with a light

www.twitter.com/Blightmxb/status/1652622432560111616

#rwby #rwby cinder #cinder fall #rwby character discussion #rwby character analysis #blightmxb #rwby analysis #rwby discussion #iamafanofcartoons

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axcel-lucci · 1 year

Text

I love you too... (Y/n) (2)

Trafalgar law x reader

Part 1

(Y/n) started getting ready for bed after a day's work, law and the boys have gone out hours ago, so they should be back any minute now-

"(Y/n)!" Shachi yelled as he bursts through their bedroom door

"Hmm? What's wrong Shachi?" She asked while closing the wardrobe doors

"So... We got law to a bar, right? We kind of encouraged him to drink more and more..."

"What happened next?" She asked while walking over to him

"He is so drunk by now that we had to drag him here, and now he just laid on the deck refusing for anyone but you to bring him here... We're really sorry (y/n)... We know we should've just--"

"It's okay really" she cuts him off "this just meant he loosened up just like I had told him to, don't worry... I'm coming" she laughed

....

"No! Don't touch me! I have a girlfriend!" Law whined and swatted Bepo's fur paw away from him making the bear cry a little.

"When you said what you said earlier," (y/n) muttered, "I never expected it to be like this..." She hummed as Shachi nodded

She walked over to law as he whined and grunted since his head throbbed with pain.

"Hey..." She called softly while sitting right next to him

He looked up and saw it was her, granted, he was hammered pretty badly so it was very lucky he recognised her, "(y/n)...! There you are...!" He drunkenly exclaimed and sat up before grabbing (y/n)'s cheeks and kissing her deeply, law in his entirety isn't a PDA person so the crew kinda stared in shock and awe at him.

"You guys can go on ahead, I'll take care of him myself" she smiled as the crew kinda nodded and left them on the deck, "hey baby... Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Hey... Hey...!" He gasped as he struggled to get up to his feet, "hey... Can I keep kissing you in bed?" He asked

"Why not?" She chuckled and walked him back to their room.

....

After cleaning him up, he atleast sobered just a little bit for his words not to slur and drag out his mouth

He pulled (y/n) closer to him once he sat on the bed and buried his face on her chest while inhaling her scent, "you smell so fucking... Beautiful"

"Really?" she giggled, "why don't we get you to bed PROPERLY, yeah?"

Helping him crawl up on the bed, she laid down beside him as he snores peacefully

He's gonna be so hang over tomorrow, well... He needs some rest though.

Next day...

"(Y/n)..." He groaned for the fifth time this morning once she hands him a pill that would help his hang over and a glass of water, "what exactly happened last time?"

"Hmm... Shachi told me you'd drunk so much you were absolutely hammered" she laughed and placed the now empty glass on the bedside table, "and I saw that first hand when you didn't let anyone touch you other than me"

He blushed darkly and swallowed thickly, "did I... Do anything last night?"

"Anything? Other than telling me I smelled beautiful, no... You didn't do anything other than sleep" she hummed, "although I'm glad you had loosened up"

"Smelled beautiful...?" He cringed at his own words but quickly regaining himself, "yeah... I loosened up... It felt great"

"Cool! Now tell me how your night went through" she sat on the edge of the bed, facing him with a smile

"Okay... So first we went 'window shopping' when really, it was just them GAWKING at women." He scoffed, "then we went to dinner, penguin-ya reserved a place at this restaurant that isn't that popular but very respectable" he hummed as (y/n) listened intently, "then we kind of debated what bar we should go to, really... The debate was whether to go to a bar, club, or strip club..." He grumbled

"Oh? Where did you guys ended up in?"

"Well... Just a club, then to a bar when I told them I was being slightly uncomfortable at the place because women would literally squeeze themselves into me despite me just sitting at our table." He sighed as (y/n) nodded, "then I kinda drank a few bottles of bourbon and gin... Maybe a couple shots of whiskey"

"That's a lot!" She laughed and kissed him on the lips in which he responds to very strongly, "you still REEK of alcohol" she chuckled against his lips but proceeded on kissing him, "can you clean yourself up and rest properly? Dont worry, once your hangover passes away, you can come work."

"I'll... Do that. And you're not jealous about those women cozying up to me?" He asked

"Hmm? Why would I? I know you're faithful" she hummed, "now come on, get yourself cleaned up, do you want me to bring your breakfast here with you?"

"Yes... Please" he shyly smiled, "I... Thank you, (y/n)."

"What for?"

"Thank you for always taking care of me and such... Even if I hadn't been exactly the BEST boyfriend... I love you so much" he shyly said with a flustered blush on his cheeks.

She giggled and kissed his cheeks, "you aren't perfect, and I love you too for that."

Law was entirely thankful that despite everything... His past, loses, even his trauma... (Y/n) decided to stay and take care of him.

She... Took great care... Of him.

That's what's love's for, right?

#trafalgar law #law x reader #random #trafalgar law x reader #night thoughts #law x y/n #one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n

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kindnessisweakness2 · 9 months

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Emily signed the paperwork and much to the disappointment of Jax that was the last time he had seen or heard from her in a week. He didn't know what it was but his head was full of her. She was a fucking pocket rocket for sure. She handled Noah, put that crow eater in line without using her fists and shot David Hale down quicker than Clay ever had the opportunity to. He couldn't stop thinking about her and Gemma could see it. Fuck, everyone could. But Noah? God Noah felt it full force. Jax had him busting his arse more than any other prospect, and everyone could guess at why. "When are you gonna stop messing with that kid and just go see her?" Clay questioned as he made his way into the empty clubhouse. Jax shrugged from his place at the bar. He was sipping a cold beer as he sat and watched Noah clean his bike on the security cameras. Yes it was the 4th time in two days he made him do it, but in Jax's eyes it was fair. "I dont know what you mean." Clay rolled his eyes as he poured himself a whiskey. "You got the hots for this girl. Gem told me. Just go see her and let the prospect sleep for god sakes. We have a shipment coming tomorrow, i need him in good shape." It was Jax's turn to roll his eyes at his step father. Never would have guessed Clay to take a prospects side. Standing from his seat at the bar, Jax nodded at Clay and made his way out to his bike. "Pack it up prospect, I've got somewhere I gotta go." Noah stood to his feet and awkwardly twisted the oil covered rag in his hands. "Can I talk to you quickly before you go?" Jax's eyebrow raised in question. Noah seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts, trying to work out how to phrase what he wanted to say without pissing his Vice President off. "Look, I don't want you anywhere near Emily. I know your track record with women Jax And I don't want her hurt." Noah clearly threw caution to the wind and tried to be as firm as possible with Prince of Charming. Noah couldn't deny that part of him hated that Jax could have whoever and whatever he wanted. Women looked at him like he was sex on legs. Perfection, with a physique that the Gods themselves carved. But Noah didn't see the appeal. In his eyes Jax was a dick, and it wasn't like he was the only blonde haired, blue eyed boy in charming. Jax's eyes widened in Suprise at the boldness of the prospect and laughter tumbled from his mouth. Noah felt his chest burn with both embarrassment and anger at the sound. "The last person I'm gonna listen to is you, grunt. Yeah she's hurt and your the one to blame. Hey, who knows? Maybe I'll pay her a visit, make her feel better. From what I hear it's not gonna be hard to fill your shoes." Winking at the prospect, Jax put on his helmet and sped out of the lot, leaving a disgruntled Noah scowling at the reaper that addorned his back.

30 minutes riding aimlessly around Charming did nothing to clear Jax's head and sure enough he ended up in the one place he was adamant he wouldn't go. Leaning against his bike across the road from Emily's home, Jax lit a cigarette and mentally wrestled with himself. He was never this nervous about a girl before. He was the prince, Girls fell at his feet all the time. But this girl? No this girl was different. Fuck. What was he doing? He knew minimal things about this girl, so why was she all up in his brain. Not even crow eaters could distract him from the purple haired pocket rocket. "Jax?" His head snapped up, the sound of her voice halting his pacing immediately. There she stood in joggers and a cropped vest, looking worried. Her hair was down, the long purple strands dangling over her shoulder and Jax's first thought was imagining running his fingers through it. Wondering if it was as soft as it looked. "Jax is something wrong?" Emily spoke again, the concern in her voice clear. Jax found himself frowning at her. "Yeah, there is actually. I havent seen you at the clubhouse." Emily scoffed at the nerve of the man infront of her. She had seen him from her kitchen window and the sight of him pacing, chainsmoking cigarettes made her worried. Now she felt stupid for caring. "Im not a fucking Crow eater Jax. I've heard how the club treats women, thats not me." Emily turned to walk away, but his gentle hand on her arm stopped her. "Thats not what i meant Darlin'. I meant...Fuck i like having you around okay?" Emily shook her head, completely dumbfounded. "Jax you met me twice. You dont know me. Look, if this is a way to piss Noah off, fucking his ex, im not here for it. Whatever he's done, leave me out of it." Jax rubbed his face frustrated. "This isnt about Noah Em. Infact I cant stand him. This is different. Is it so hard to believe that i may actually want to get to know you? That i enjoyed the time I spent talking to you at the clubhouse the other day?" Emily smiled softly at him. "I'm not different. Jax im boring. Your wasting your time here with me. You have multiple women who would give anything to spend a night with you. Dont be stupid. Go." Jax grinned at her as she gave him a gentle shove towards his bike. Throwing his arm over her shoulder instead, Jax guided her back towards her house.

"Well arent you lucky? Tonights your night Em, Im Yours. Let me be the judge of whether your boring." Emily couldnt help but laugh at the confidence on him. It was gonna be a long night.

#jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo · 2 months

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Strange Magic (Prt. 2)

Part One:

Billy x OC Kate.

It's not very much an original idea, I think almost everyone has a story like this in all honesty. But it loosely follows the end of season two and (loosely) all of season three.

Banners and Dividers created by Saradika, please give them a follow and look into their work! ❤️

A sea of green and white pooled together. Coach was trying to give some inspirational speech. The boys were too busy snickering about the new body that had crouched into their huddle. Kate, of course it was Kate. She had, what Billy assumed, Harrington's sneakers in her hands tying the laces into complicated knots, Harrington was nowhere to be seen.

Billy had come fresh out of his pre-game shower. He puffed out his shirtless chest, flexing his abs as he hooked his thumb into the towel around his waist pushing it down slightly. Kate's eyes flickered up from her task.

"So, get me my damn win! What the everliving fuck are you doing in the boys locker room Torrance?" He shouted, noticing her.

"Steve?" She shrugged.

"Yeah? Where is he?!" Coach asked back. Kate shrugged again, going back to her tying.

"I dunno." He snatched the shoes from her.

"Get out." Kate held up her hands in surrender, leaving quickly. Coach pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, "Let me remind you all that there are no girls allowed in the boys locker room, you wanna meet up before the game, do so in the gym." Harrington chose that moment to come running through the door.

"I'm here! I'm here Coach!" He panted. Coach passed him the jumbled mess that was his shoes.

"Your girlfriend has been by." Steve looked at the laces in shock. Coach patted him harshly on the shoulder as he walked out of the locker room. Everyone broke apart to ready themselves for the game.

"Jesus. She's a hellcat." Billy loomed over him as he struggled to untie the complicated knots, "Plenty of bitches in the sea means go for the bitches, leave the real women for the real men, Harrington."

"Yeah? Well, then we're both out of luck aren't we?" Steve asked in return. Billy chuckled.

"What did you do to her anyways?"

"What?"

"Come on amigo, she's been on you all week."

"Haven't a clue what you're talking about."

"Let's see Monday she jammed your locker, Tuesday she hid you keys, and now today she's fucked with your shoes."

"You sure do pay a lot of attention to me." Steve snapped. Billy chuckled,

"Nah, just so happens the hottest piece of ass in the school has taken a particularly spiteful interest in you." Steve launched off the bench into his face.

"She is not a piece of ass." He growled out, "She deserves so much better than you."

"Like who, you?" Tommy cackled from across the locker room, "Why don't you peep who she's hanging out with in the bleachers. How sorry in the sheets do you have to be for Byers to take both of your girls?"

"Kate's not my girl, never was." Steve growled. Tommy laughed ruefully.

"Yeah, you never could pull her could you? What has it been, eight years of pining and begging?"

"Got a word of the day calendar for Christmas?" Harrington taunted, "Pining's a hard word for you, Tommy."

Coach grunted, coming into the locker room, "You boys break it up and get a move on."

xXx

"Let me see." Kate held her hand out for the camera. Johnathan handed it to her and she turned it around in her hand, she leaned back into Johnathan, snapping their picture.

The kid from the opposite team, shot and missed, Johnathan pulled her away from the incoming ball, it hit the gym wall behind them and rolled back onto the court, Billy stopped it with his foot. The buzzer blew for halftime and the kid stopped in front of Kate and Johnathan. Billy watched as she looked at the kid like he had two heads, then she started to laugh. The kid stormed away, shoving past Billy at the halfcourt line.

"Fucking cunt!" The kid snarled. Billy snatched him up by the front of his jersey.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

"No no! Not you man, that bitch over there."

"That woman is mine." Billy snarled back at him. The ref came and pulled them apart, pushing Billy to the bench.

Coach railed into him about starting a fight. As soon as he left a body slid onto the bleacher behind him.

"Hey!" He turned to look at Kate, "Thank you." Billy chuckled ruefully.

"What makes you think that was about you?" He asked darkly.

"You just conveniently decided to grab him right after he was hitting on me?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I don't believe you. Maybe Max was right, you're secretly a nice person." She pushed herself up and over the railing, kissing his cheek before disappearing again. The next time Billy saw her she was tucked under Byers arm in the cold parking lot, laughing about something. He sped past them as he was leaving. His Camaro kicked gravel towards Byers' shitty car.

xXx

Everywhere he looked Kate and Byers were attached at the hip. The little shit even waited for her outside of class. All the way up until graduation.

Billy stood in the field house bathroom, trying to make that stupid cap look good without flattening his perm. The door was cracked open and Billy was about to shout at them to leave when Max called out.

"Billy? Are you dressed?"

"Beat it Shithead!" But the door was pushed open anyways. Max popped her head in peeking through the fingers covering her eyes.

"I think he has his clothes on." She called out to someone else.

"Max." A sweet voice laughed, Kate pushed the door open further stepping in. "Lock the door as you leave." Kate called back to Max. The door swung closed and her pretty eyes looked up into his.

"Hiya Hollywood." The girls were ordered to wear black unpatterned dresses underneath their gowns and the men white button downs and black slacks. Kate stood before him in a short white dress with long lace sleeves.

"Is that a fucking wedding dress?"

"Yep! I'm officially marrying my freedom!" Her smile was blindingly beautiful. Billy turned ruefully toward the mirror.

"Bet that Byers kid creamed his pants." Billy fussed with his cap more. Suddenly Kate was between him and the sink.

"Here." She whispered quietly. She started taking pins and pinning the cap in place. "Max said you didn't want to mess up your hair." Billy toyed with the extra charm she added onto her tassel, "It's from a bracelet my grandma had, she couldn't be here."

"What does Max not tell you about me?" Billy grunted. Kate smiled softly.

"I think she's trying to play matchmaker." Kate fussed with his curls that hung across his forehead. "There you look perfect." She stepped aside so he could see in the mirror, he watched as she slipped the green robe on. Somewhere out on the football field Higgins began his speech and they both left the restroom, hurrying quickly to line up with their classmates on the running track. Harrington waved at Kate and Billy shoved his way in between them.

Soon they were calling them by name as they crossed the small metal stage set up on the field.

"Mr. Steve Harrington."

Kate whooped and whistled behind him. Harrington looked back briefly, smiling. From the bleachers the child army cheered for their friend.

"Mr. William Hargrove." There was a scattered clapping and cheering, but not from the stands. His father was nowhere to be found, Max stood near the track clapping for him while her friends hugged Harrington.

"Miss Katherine Torrance." The bleachers erupted. Harrington, Byers, Max, all of her little demon spawn children and their families cheered and clapped for their loyal babysitter. Billy stalled at the end of the two metal steps, watching, Kate strolled across the state like she was a movie star. When she got to the steps he held out an arm to help her down.

"Oh. Thank you!" There was a rush of bodies, Kate being pushed away as girls circled Billy to ask about what college he was headed to and other stupid shit.

"Are you going back to California? I've always wanted to see California." Carol batted her lashes at him. He felt fingers in his hair, was about to shove the hussy away and find Kate, when he realized it was Kate. She was nimbley and discreetly pulling pins from his hair. All but the one, she wiggled it some so Billy would know where it was in his hair.

“If no one else has said it today, I'm proud of you.” She whispered to him, then she slipped back away.

"Graduating class of '85," a hush went over the crowd all except for Carol who squealed at Billy's side. There was a snort laugh from behind him and Billy turned his head to see Kate smirking and shaking her head at Carol's back. "you may move your tassels." She motioned, pulling the last pin before a whooping went over the crowd of graduates and everyone started throwing their caps into the air. Billy pulled the last pin and tossed his cap. A different one collided with his and something small and shining broke off of it landing in his upturned hat on the ground.

Holy shit.

That Byers kid rushed up picking up Kate's cap, which had tumbled away from Billy's. Billy grabbed his cap off the ground, discreetly dropping the charm into his palm before tucking the cap under his arm.

He chatted with Carol and the other girls on the field watching as Kate, Byers, and mini Byers walked slowly along searching the grass.

His heart sank just a bit at the end of the night, the kids were circling around Kate as she leaned against her car. It was obvious she had been crying, her jaw was set and her eyes red. The boys ran off, calling for Hopper and Byers' mom, leaving Kate with just Max and a little further off an older woman stood with her arms crossed tapping her foot.

Fuck, did this stupid little silver heart mean that much?

"Katherine, seriously. You are so over dramatic." The older woman that looked oddly like Kate walked away throwing her hands up as she got into an expensive looking BMW. Billy made his way over, Kate's red rimmed eyes looked up into his.

"Billy. Five more minutes please." Max sighed.

"Why are you crying?" Billy ignored Max. Kate's head dropped, staring at the gravel.

"It's nothing Billy." Kate shook her head not looking at him.

"You're crying." He cocked a brow at her, "You don't cry."

"Or maybe you don't know me." She crossed her arms and she was still not looking at him. Suddenly Harrington was there, shoving past Billy.

“Katie.” Harrington sighed at her, “Just- don't punch me too hard.” He muttered before hugging her tightly to his chest. The rest of the entourage came running and it was a flurry of voices and tight hugs for Kate from the Byers' mom. “It was just Charlotte being Charlotte I'm fine I shouldn't expect anything from her.” she sighed quietly, in Mrs. Byers arms.

Joyce jostled her shoulder, “Let's head home, I can make you your favorite.” She promised. Kate smiled, nodding, “Max you and your brother can come too,” she smiled at Billy holding her hand out to him. “Hi, I'm Joyce, Jonathan and Will’s mom.”

“Mrs. Byers I don't think Hargrove wants to come hang out with us he's probably got a party to go to.” Steve really should have kept his mouth shut.

“That sounds lovely Mrs. Byers, I'd be honored.” Billy smiled. Everyone looked at him in shock.

“Well good!”

Everyone split up going to their respective cars.

“I don't need you as a wingman.” Billy told Max as she buckled her seat belt. The girl smiled slightly.

“Just saying, it's working.”

Except Kate wasn't there when they pulled up. Billy lingered outside waiting for her while he smoked and Max hung out with her friends inside.

The door creaked open behind him and Mrs Byers stepped out.

“Any sign of Kate?” She asked, looking up to the sky. The wind had been picking up and it had turned very cloudy. Billy shook his head and Mrs. Byers touched his arm. “If I tell you where she is, can you go get her for me?”

“Shit.” Kate muttered, she had just walked out of her house about to head to the Byers. The sky was turning that weird off green color and the wind was shaking the trees around her. The tornado siren went off and just as she was about to call Joyce a Camaro roared into her driveway.

“What are you doing here?!” Kate shouted at Billy.

“Looking for you! What is that noise!?” Kate blinked at him in shock.

“The tornado siren, come on!” She nodded for him to come inside. Billy hurried up the steps, following her into the house as the rain began to pour. He followed the sound of a phone ringing.

“Yeah Billy just pulled up. No, I haven't seen anything yet.” She nodded as she reached up into a cabinet and pulled down batteries, “We’re headed into the shelter now.” There was a long pause as everything around them seemed to be rattling, “We have to go, I love you Mom.” And she hung up the phone. She grabbed Billy's hand in hers without a word. The power around them flickered.

Out the back door and into a storm cellar. The wind whipped around them and they had to pull hard to get the door to shut. Kate latched it quickly, shoving her entire weight into getting the rusty metal bar into place.

“That will hopefully hold.” she popped the batteries into the old flashlight and smacked it against her hand twice.

“Hopefully?” Billy asked.

“Ever been through a tornado?” Kate asked with a sigh. Billy shook his head. “We’re in for a night.”

“That can't be comfortable.” Billy muttered. She was still in that wedding dress.

Everything around them rattled with the thunder, it had been an hour by Billy's watch. Billy was sitting on an old wooden chair, leaned up against on of the cool cement walls, Kate was on a camping cot that she pulled out of closet space, and the flashlight sat on the floor pointed up the the ceiling to give them light.

"Thought you were mad at your mom?" Billy asked.

"I'm always mad at Charlotte." Kate answered.

"Still told her you loved her."

"... That was Joyce on the phone." Kate hesitantly answered, "But I do still love my mom no matter how much she pisses me off or the fact that I've never actually meant anything to her."

“It's not.” She answered back. Suddenly Billy's white button up flew through the air landing on top of her head. She sat up quickly staring at where Billy leaned back in the chair with his eyes closed.

“Sleeping there isn't going to be comfortable either.” Kate spoke up. “Come over here with me.” Billy cracked a smirk.

“Already asking me to jump in bed with you?”

“Shut up Hargrove. I'm just trying to be nice, not invite you into my pants.” Billy opened his eyes to answer with a cocky comment but the words died in his throat. Kate was focused on getting the little buttons in the correct eyelets or she would have noticed how he drooled over her gorgeous body. Billy closed his eyes back quickly. “Seriously,” he peeked and she was sitting back on the cot dressed. “Don't kill yourself sleeping in that chair all night.”

The wind was still roaring around them like crazy, thunder and rain pounding into their heads. The cot creaked under Billy's weight as he slipped in behind Kate.

“Billy?” She asked sleepily. She turned over on the cot, burying her nose in his chest. “Billy.” She confirmed softly, snuggling into his arms.

“Yeah, I'm right here crazy girl.” Billy ran his hands along her soft skin, remembering how soft she felt in his arms, "I'm right here." He sighed pulling her close and closing his eyes.

And Billy wishes for this exact moment back once morning comes.

“Kate!” Harrington’s frantic voice wakes them, “Katie?!” and Kate rushed up the five small steps to the door, pushing the old lock open, Billy bitterly missed the rust that had made that lock so hard to close last night. She goes to push open the door but it stops with a sudden loud slam.

“Steve! I can't get the door open.” Kate shouts, “Billy.” She turns back to him, her eyes asking for help and he joins her on the steps. Harrington sounds further away and Billy can tell that she's starting to panic.

“Yo! Harrington we’re in here!” His voice booms out. There's a rush of footsteps.

“Oh shit. Kate there's a huge tree limb in the way I'm going for help.” and Kate was reaching through the gap, Billy watched past her head as someone took ahold of her fingers, squeezing gently, “I'll be right back I promise.” And slowly Harrington pulled out of her grasp.

“Where's all the 'love' Harrington usually receives?” Billy asked, a bit bitterly.

“He's trying to get us out of here.” She said as if that answered everything.

“No, he's trying to get you out. I didn't hear him yelling my name.”

“Look Billy, we’re friends-”

Billy laughed bitterly, high on jealousy, “I'm not your friend sweetheart.”

“Well I'm yours, so you can deal with it but I'm never not going to be your friend. Steve has been with me for the good, the bad, and the amazing. I bully him, I do mean shit because that's how I express my love for him. If you wanna stick around with me; Steve, Johnathan, Nancy, and the kids are a part of that package.” Billy grunted in response and Kate bumped her shoulder into his, “That doesn't mean you have to play Mr. Rogers around them, just know that if you want me they'll be around too.”

“So I can still kick his ass?” Billy asked, raising a brow. Kate looked at him in disbelief before rolling her eyes.

“Just let him keep all his teeth, and kick his ass for a reason, don't just punch him for fun.”

“So let me get this straight now, you've got Byers strung along and Harrington?” Billy asked, leaning back away from her. Kate laughed loudly.

“Ok no, Steve was or is dating Nancy Wheeler. He will never not be in love with her though. Jonathan is also madly in love with Nancy and has been since middle school. Neither of those guys would ever be into me and honestly, I think that's for the best.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I'm not good for anyone.” Kate picked at her nails, “Nancy is solid and steady, don't get me wrong she is a fucking badass. But she's the kind of girl everyone needs. I'm brash and I do dumb shit without thinking. I'm more likely to get pissed off and burn down the house than make dinner.” Billy shrugged his shoulders.

“That's what takeout is for.” He mumbled and Kate smiled nudging his boot with her foot.

“Is that an offer?” She asked, snickering.

“No.” Billy answered.

“One day, when we’re closer friends, I want to hug you.”

“In your dreams, crazy girl.” It was quiet for a bit, “What did Harrington do?”

“Hmm?”

“It's got to be more than, you just bullying him because that's ‘how you show your love', what did he do?”

“He destroyed my sandcastle.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Around the time when we were six, the Harrington’s invited my mom and me to go with them to the lake. Mom sent me with them, I took my sand toys. I made an epic sandcastle, like an actual sand fortress around me. Steve fucking Harrington, walks up to me on what little sand we have near the lake and goes, ‘Do you know what my favorite animal is? Jellyfish.’ and he poked a hole through one of the walls.” Billy turned looking at her in disbelief, “And then he says, ‘Do you know what my second favorite animal is? Kraken.’ and he starts smashing my sandcastle. I spent my entire day making that thing, it was huge.”

“You bully Harrington over a sandcastle?”

“Yup.” From somewhere outside of the shelter voices echoed.

“Wait wait wait!” Came Max’s voice, “Billy's with her.”

Billy threw his hands up shouting, “Why does that matter shit bird!” Kate knew why it mattered, El. El was going to lift the tree limb, “Just tie a rope around the damn thing and use Harrington’s car!”

“Where's your keys, Hargrove? Let's fuck up your bumper.”

“Guys stop, all of you just grab an end and start pulling,” Kate suggested, “Me and Billy will push from this side and the branch should move enough to let us out.” El, work your magic but don't over do it.

“Oh… oh! Okay! Yeah good game plan!” Steve realized after a minute.

“They're so stupid.” Billy muttered, bracing his hands against the door.

“Yeah,” Kate responded, bracing herself against the door as well, “but they're our stupid idiots.”

The branch groaned as it was slowly dragged across the ground and as soon as the gap was wide enough Harrington was reaching in pulling Kate out. Billy shoved his way out next and Max practically tackled him to the ground.

“You’re okay.” She hugged him tighter as he tried to shove her off. Kate was wrapped up tightly in Byers’ arms, who was looking at Hargrove with an eat shit look.

“Don't get your panties in a twist, I didn't do anything she didn’t ask for.” Billy bit at him. Kate gave him a look.

"Billy offered me his shirt so I could take the dress off." The kids rushed her next hugging her and Billy started to walk away.

“Thank you,” Johnathan called out, “For taking care of my... Kate." he stuttered looking embarrassed.

“Same. Max?”

“I'm gonna help clean up, Mom knows. Your dad had to shelter in place at work, he won't be home until tonight.”

“Billy you don't have to go.” Kate tried, Billy shrugged leaving anyways.

Steve, Johnathan, and the kids began pitching in to help clean up the debris on the property. The house was barely touched but there were leaves, grass, dirt, and bits of trees everywhere.

"That was Max's brother?" El's quiet voice asked from behind her as Kate swept the porch. She turned to the young girl who was looking down the road in the direction Billy had gone.

"Why? You think he's cute?" She wiggled her eyebrows at the young girl.

"He's pretty to look at. Like art." El mumbled.

"Really pretty." Kate agreed.

"Whose really pretty?" Max asked, coming out of the house.

"You." Kate responded. Max put a hand to her chest, batting her lashes sarcastically.

"No for real." She straightened and Kate smiled softly at her.

El giggled out, "Billy."

"Uug! Gross!" Max responded, looking at El horrified while shoving at her shoulder gently. Max leaned in quickly whispering something to El, whose eyes widened and locked in on Kate before turning her head and nodding quickly.

"I think that's smart." Both girls ran away.

"Hey!" Kate called after them, "Me and Billy are friends! Nothing more! Stop trying to play Cupid!"

But Kate smiled at their antics and for a moment she looked down the road hoping Billy's blue Camero would come roaring back.

And folks, we are onto season 3! Which of course means

Golden Titties!!!!

Me AF^^^^

#stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x oc #strange magic #Is it Torrgrove #Killy #Bate #or Harence #What's our ship name

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a-m-pyra · 5 days

Text

First Burn: Ch4 End of Summer (American McGee's Alice/Lies of P)

P went downstairs in the morning to greet the children, Mrs. Sharpe, Otto and Mrs. Seymour. He stood in the aisle and smiled as he saw the children and Otto stuffing themselves with still warm bread and jam.

“Good morning,” he said, and the children responded in chorus, some of them, like Otto, with their mouths full.

He felt hands on his waist, and when he turned around, he saw Alice beaming with a wide smile on her face, which he returned, looking closely at her face.

She looked different somehow. Her cheeks were pinker, her eyes seemed more expressive, and her lips were the color of fresh strawberries.

He blinked several times, unable to utter a word for a moment.

Alice was pretty — in a completely different way than Sophia, who was as beautiful as a butterfly — delicate and sheer. Or Eugénie, who was just like Spring — charming and delightful.

Both Mrs. Seymour and Alice were as beautiful as something dangerous. Mrs. Seymour was like a scorpion among flowers — she was inaccessible and constantly glancing warningly at the gentlemen milling around, and yet, although she was not a common beauty, attracted all these curious men — like belladonna and aconite. Alice, on the other hand, was like the blade of a foil — even while walking, he saw men admiring her, but none of them dared to approach her.

Maybe it was his fault, but he was sure that her sharp look would effectively scare away even the most persistent men.

But now he had the impression that she was even prettier. The makeup on her face highlighted everything he liked about her — her big green eyes, pale skin, and lips.

When he finally found his tongue in his mouth, he grunted and put his hands behind his back.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbled, as if unconsciously, and the children, Otto, even Mrs. Sharpe, looked at them with interest.

“Thank you,” she glared at him, “you too.”

Charlie and Otto looked at each other, making surprised faces; at least until Alice looked at them scoldingly.

“Be quick with this food, because the orphanage still needs to be decorated. Mr. Mitchell will arrive in less than three hours.” She grabbed P's hand and looked at him. “Will you help me take down the remaining decorations?”

“I'll just put Gemini away.”

Gemini didn't protest. P just put him on the table next to Otto and he and Alice went to the attic where there were a lot of old things.

Some were old clothes that the children had outgrown long ago. Others include furniture, frames, old sofas and armchairs; P suspected that it was from the time when Dr. Bumby was the director of the orphanage.

He saw a frame standing with the canvas against the wall. He grabbed it and turned it around, seeing that the canvas was cut diagonally and there was a burnt scorpion on the board.

He pursed his lips and looked at Alice, who was reaching for the box of decorations. He smoothed out the canvas, noticing the children standing around the middle-aged man.

“So this is Angus Bumby?”

Alice looked at him and moved closer. He saw her face tense, just like it did when all those women showed up at the orphanage.

“He is.”

“The biggest dick in England.” They turned around, noticing Mrs. Seymour, who must have just entered the attic. “I mean, not literally, but… figuratively.” She grabbed the oversized basket and smiled at them.

P looked decidedly confused.

“What happened to him?” he asked, and Alex blew a strand of hair out of her face and gave him another wide smile.

“Like any sociopath with a superiority complex, he thought he was doing the world a favor by hurting other people. I just had to show him how wrong he was.”

“Alex prefers to take decisive measures,” Alice explained, exchanging knowing glances with Mrs. Seymour.

Mrs. Seymour left the attic and Alice handed P one of the boxes; she took the second one herself and they both carried it downstairs, setting it in the living room next to the sofa and looking through what was suitable and what wasn't. After the children and Otto helped Mrs. Sharpe clean up, they immediately started helping decorate the downstairs.

Alice set about creating an altar on which the basket of offerings would later be placed. P and Otto hung decorations that would appear on high — wall hangings, cutouts and small wreaths made of ears of grain. The children, however, took everything they could put up and hang low.

Just before eleven, Mrs. Seymour came downstairs, asking with amusement that the children should be careful. She carried a huge basket of apples, plums, cranberries, ears of grain, sunflowers, bread and wine, all decorated with gold, yellow, orange and red ribbons with a white lace doily which Mrs. Seymour used to line the basket.

Mrs. Seymour walked up to the altar and everyone stood in a circle and held hands. P did it too, with some hesitation. He watched everyone else, they stood with their heads slightly bowed. Mrs. Seymour whispered something as she placed the basket on the altar, lit the candles, and drew an unusual symbol on the wall with chalk. She then grabbed the skirts of her dress and bowed. Only then could they let go of their hands.

P was terribly confused, but also intrigued.

The children dispersed as soon as Mrs. Seymour said they could return to their work, Otto, hearing that Mrs. Sharpe was going to work on the sunflower cake, went to help, hoping to nibble something while preparing, and Alice and P sat down at Gemini.

“I don't fully understand what just happened.”

“Providing gifts to the helping spirits of this place along with requests. Alex believes that every person has at least one spirit that guides them through life and helps them achieve their goals. Each of us thought of something they should stand up for or help us with. Alex is always asking for further spiritual development, and from sabbath to sabbath her skills and knowledge grow, even despite her attention deficit and hyperactivity. Sometimes also about prosperity and happiness for us. The children said they wanted to be happy.”

P had to admit that, despite living in an orphanage, they all seemed happy and full of life. He overheard Charlie and Abigail talking about how they hoped they would never be adopted unless by Mrs. Seymour.

And when Alice talked about attention deficit and hyperactivity, he finally understood what was happening to Mrs. Seymour. Bitten cuticles around nails, playing with jewelry, forgetfulness, irregular handwriting.

He wondered what else could come from this.

“Nan has been asking for her health recently, especially since her previous job severely damaged it. She feels better. It's hard for me to say what she asked for this time.”

“I wonder what Otto asked for.”

“I can guess, but I'm not sure.”

"What?"

“I know he wants acceptance, but I don't know if he asked for it.”

P wondered why he may not be accepted.

“He can be safe here; it would be a sick concept if it were not accepted in our circle; especially since Alex is facing the same, let's call it, problem.”

“I guess I don't quite understand.”

“I'm sure he'll tell you someday.”

There was a moment of silence as P wondered if he should ask her.

“What did you ask for?”

She scanned his face and tucked her leg under her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“For prosperity…you know what.”

He nodded, understanding what she meant.

“And you? What did you ask for?” She rested her head on her hand.

“I didn't ask. I was too…confused.”

Alice parted her lips, then grabbed the apple and handed it to him.

“We can fix it. While holding the apple, think about what you wish for, then put the apple in the basket, say thank you and bow.”

“Do you think this will work?”

“Everything indicates that Alex's abracadabra is working. Or, for the unbelievers, the placebo effect. Either way, you can try. If it works, that's great. If it doesn't work, you won't get hurt anyway.”

He pursed his lips and glanced at Gemini.

“Try it, at worst nothing will happen.”

P rose and, standing in front of the altar, pressed the apple to his chest. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, thinking about how much he wanted to finally be a real human. Who feels hungry, can try food and drinks, who can get really tired, feel drops of sweat on his face after hard exercise, or get bloody when he cuts himself with a knife.

He then placed the apple on the pile of others and silently thanked, bowing.

The fire from one of the candles suddenly glowed brighter and swayed, as if there was a draft somewhere nearby.

P looked at Alice, who was smiling in his direction.

“And what now?”

“You can sit down,” she replied with amusement.

It was shortly after twelve when there was a knock on the door. Alice immediately got up from the couch where she was sitting with P and Otto, and with a joyful squeal she threw herself at the neck of a man with curly blond hair, a dark purple coat and a subdued orange vest.

Alice was about to call out to Mrs. Seymour, but before she could open her mouth, they heard Mrs. Seymour running down the hall and then almost flying down the stairs to fall into the man's arms, also throwing her arms around his neck and letting him lift her body slightly.

“You don't even know how much I missed you.”

“We saw each other less than a month ago,” he said with amusement.

“And what about this? You were supposed to come more often.”

The man set Mrs. Seymour on the floor.

“I need to introduce someone to you.” She entered the living room with the man, and P rose from his seat. “Jacob, please meet Pinocchio, our new charge. P, please meet Jacob Mitchell, my almost-brother, lecturer at Oxford University, formerly at Cambridge.”

Jacob extended his hand towards P, and he grabbed it, and they both shook it with small smiles on their faces.

“Welcome to the family, P.”

To the family.

P's smile widened and Alex grabbed Jacob's hand, pulling him upstairs.

“Come on, Jake, I have some hot tea.”

Jacob's eyes widened, and his lips quirked into an interested smile. They both disappeared upstairs, and Alice and P looked at each other and laughed.

“I don't remember anyone making tea,” he finally said, and Alice shook her head.

“Because it's not about the tea you drink, you silly. She meant gossip.”

“Gossip?”

“You've just met the biggest gossip duo this side of the Thames. Congratulations,” Otto replied, and P looked at Alice, who covered her laughing face with her hand.

Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell were a duo unlike any he had ever seen. He had never met two people who got along so well; they shared their sense of humor — although it was extremely silly — they talked about everything that came to their tongues and even teased each other with the same affection.

Alice grabbed his arm, following the rest of them towards the garden. There was a huge fire burning there, blankets and thermoforms were hung on the garden furniture, there were a guitar and an accordion next to two chairs, and in a moment Mrs. Sharpe was to bring mulled wine, tea, sunflower cake, plum tarts, and then apples with cinnamon.

P felt a strange feeling in his stomach as soon as he smelled all the smells from the kitchen. Everything smelled so sweet, caramelly and slightly spicy.

Mrs. Seymour introduced him to Mrs. Isabelle Wingrave.

They both seemed to feel terribly intimidated by their new acquaintance, but P felt a little more confident when Alice was with him, and Mrs. Wingrave when Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell appeared at her side.

Inez and Diggie argued about seats, each of them hoping for easy access to the sweets, and only one of them could sit next to Mrs. Seymour, next to whom the sweets were to be placed.

Eventually, Mr. Mitchell moved the wicker sofa so that the two of them could sit together.

“Too bad I can't eat any of this,” he muttered, and Alice grabbed his hand.

“I'm sure you'll be able to someday. Now, just enjoy the chants and conversations.”

And the chants started a moment later. Mr. Mitchell played the accordion and Mrs. Seymour played the guitar, singing a lively song perfect for dancing — and sure enough, some of the children decided to dance. Otto embraced him and Alice, swaying and singing with Alice along with Mrs. Wingrave, Seymour, and Mr. Mitchell.

At the end there was applause, and after a while another song was played, to which Otto led Mrs. Wingrave and Alice. Their mid-length dresses swirled as Otto tried to lead them both while singing.

He saw Alice extend her hand to him. He felt a strange cold in his stomach. He shook his head, only for Alice to turn hers urgently.

She just wanted him to have fun.

She walked up to him, taking his hand, and then the song ended, and a street musician who often stood in the area and played his violin stuck his head out from behind the wall of the orphanage building.

“May I do so, Miss Seymour?”

“Of course! There's always enough seats, and we need one more instrument.”

He smiled and sat down to the side, starting to play.

“There's no turning back now,” Alice told him and P sighed, nodding.

Paradoxically, it was Alice who led him more than he led her. He didn't feel completely confident yet, he didn't know what the melody line of the song was. Everything was changed by Alice's encouraging smile that played across her lips as she sang, as if to him. He felt more confident as he took over the lead of the dance from her, making her laugh delightfully.

The children were not at all embarrassed, jumping, dancing with each other and in a circle. Occasionally he saw them whispering to each other, but Alice's warmth and the weight of her body in his arms distracted him.

“Now, let’s go for one! And now let's go drink wine!” Nan announced, emerging with a cart filled with mulled wine and still hot cinnamon apples.

The same sound and feeling coming from his stomach again.

“Has anyone developed an appetite?” Nan asked, and P lowered his head, embarrassed.

“I can't eat.”

“Try it,” Charlie suggested. “At worst, someone will fix you.”

Nan handed him one of the apples with a spoon and poured mulled wine into a mug.

P felt stressed; and then everything was fine. One bite at a time and one sip at a time.

He looked towards the window, which showed a piece of the altar. The familiar bluish light that only he seemed to see glowed softly.

Then he looked at Mrs. Seymour — she was smiling as if she saw it too.

#alice madness returns #american mcgee's alice #alice liddell #lies of #lies of p #pinocchio lies of p #alice #alice x pinocchio #p #p x alice #oc: alex seymour #oc: otto #american mcgee's alice oc #american mcgee's alice fanfiction #alice madness returns oc #alice madness returns fanfiction #lies of p fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic

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curltee · 6 months

Text

(my bros commentary while watching THC1 )

"Are those his dogs? Hes crying cuz its badly photoshopped"

"Crying while carrying a whole ass gun"

"Bitch thats the point of a present"

"Whats this suspicious nightclub theyre going to."

"Does she know how phones work?

"Shes the dumb bitch in this group"

"Straight up, the drama team needs to learn how to take phone calls like he does. Fake phone calls"

"Um whys he looking like that when he injects her?"

"The sexual tension of this scene right now...wild. Pls tell me rn that this is secretly a torture porn???"

"Ofcourse hes gonna take it personally you twig"

"He can be a gardener"

"What a gentlemen, he even carries him"

"Dang he got a screamer here. And i thought those two girls were bad enough"

"Im sorry i just cant get over the shape of his fucking head"

"Hes like attractive, but in a creepy way"

"jenny gives me the mom come pick me up im scared deal"

"Can we appreciate that he has the decency to not hit the women. Yeah straight up he just awakens them so calmly. with the girls its like "hi besutiful goodmorning!" Then just fucking smack the guy on the face

"Id rather let him wake me up by smacking me than creepily stroke my hair like that"

"Why not hit that glass with your butt?"

"Why is he apologizing for not shooting her?"

"Oh my god shes really is the dumbest bitch alive. I thought jenny was but no"

"Fuck both jenny and the asian dude bitch runnn"

I could watch somebodys head cut off but not a butt removal"

"Okay but why the guy who screams alot placed at the front ???"

"Dang should have put jenny at the front to get a head action. unless hes into dudes"

"Do you think he has sex with it? If so which end would he prefer more? Or do you think he sees it as innocent but creepy way? Like this is my centipede child i love you"

"If he gives them painkillers does he only have the choose one but triple the amount of painkillers?"

Poor girls, one is literally eating her friends ass...forever"

"Okay so..nazi european madman. kamikaze shithole..What racial slur would be next"

"His chicken noise reminds me of squilliam"

"Is he dying? Oh shitting my bad."

"Did he atleast take their tongues out? or do they taste everything? Thats jsut nasty "

"OHH NIPPLE HELL YEAH"

"These dudes are definitly not trained to be cops. They just claimed they are on a random day "

"Why do they dressed like our uncles?"

"MAKE HIM FALL MAKE HIM FALL WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE HIM LIKE THAT YOU IDIOT".

"Out of all stairs why the spiral ones"

"A wild human centipede 🎶 got chased by a doctor 🎶 will the centipede make it🎶 or get eaten alive 🎶 find out in our next episode of planet earth"

"Oh yeah hes licking it. thats gross"

"He really just crawled themselves into a room with no plan. its going good so far"

"So did she just assume the glass was still broken. Does she have no concept of time. Probably not "

"The amount of grunts they had to record for this"

"Thats a deep cut"

*Heiter got shot* "Thats satisfying"

"Annnnd shes dead. or passed out atleast. Oh no shes really dead"

"I swear they hold eachothers hands very much"

"Oh they shot this scene really well. Like the angle and everything. Props to her can translate dread into her eyes. This is makes me sad."

"Imagine being in the middle and your counterparts are fucking dead. Thats gonna be her motto is she survives this"

#Hes at gunpoint while watching lmao #Hes so random for this DJDNDN #Makes it even funnier than it already was #the human centipede #human centipede

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toofasttoocool · 2 months

Note

Evil Team Girl Grunts HCs? (Including Skull/Aether, Yell/Macro and Star in this!)

Rocket:

-All prostitute or Only fans model who wish to gain even more money.

-Are vile and evil.

-They chose that uniform on purpose to show off more of their curve and attract beta.

-Don't know shit about Pokemon battles; in fact, don't know much about anything.

-Want to act like top,are pure bottoms.

Magma:

-Fan of wholesome,handholding,creampie sex.

-"Please everyone reproduce!"

-Fiercely monogamous.

-Are all trained housewife,can make you orgasm with quality cakes.

-All have a crush on Max.

-Can get pretty violent if they are challenged in their ideas.

-Want nothing more than to have a family and kids.

Aqua:

-Fan of hardcore,rapey,anal sex.

-"Nobody reproduce!"

-All of them have a harem.

-Cannot do shit in the house,but got endless libido.

-They all think Arthur is stupid.

-Get more surgery than the entire rest of Hoenn women.

-Want sex,sex,and more sex!No matter who,no matter where!

-Think family and kids are stupid.

Galatic:

-Are all sex obsess weirdos with extreme fetishes who band together.

-Think of the Sinnoh region as all as the reasons why they cannot get a boyfriend.

-Femcel.

-They just need a hug (and a good dicking.)

-Actually ineffective as a villain team.

Plasma:

-"We should all be free to have sex with pokemon!"

-Hardcore pokephilic,think sex with humans is repulsive.

-Think of themselves as modern chivalrous knights.

-Gain money for the team by drawing and writing furry porn.

-All worship N as some kind of savior.

-Get surgery and hormones to resist sex with 10 Machamps at the time.

-Tested sex with all kinds of Pokémon (including Garbodor)

Flare:

-Use lysandre as a cover-up; no one believes in that weirdo.

-Want to turn everyone into perfect plastic dolls.

-Is actually the most dangerous team of the bunch.

-Work on the "Flare Bimbo Machine" day and night.

-Only wear the most expensive and garish clothes possible.

-All of them are in Calem Harem (yes,all 500 000 of them).

-Is actually a 100 percent feminine team,with the sole exception of Xerosic.

Skull:

-Pseudo Gangsta girl.

-"Hey yo,want some fuck's homeboy?" *sucks at blowjobs*

-Bimbo wannabe,end up being more goofy than serious.

-Are quite endearing once you learn to know them.

-All of them have champion-quality twerking asses.

-"Brat!Need correction"

-Are probably all virgin.

Yell:

-Are all bimbo smut writer,more rarely blender user.

-"Marnie we love you!Marnie please show us more of your fake breasts!this is for art reference"

-Are all raging bisexual,the meeting turned into an orgy.

-Written more Yaoi than you write in your entire life.

-Spend all their money on porn or drawing tablets.

-Want to look like anime girl at any cost,ended up in debt because of it.

-DSL is a must.

Star:

-Dance

-Cringy tik tok teens.

-"Hey let me record us having sex stud it's for my OF!"

-Are all inspiring porn star.

-Many join just for the cool glasses (they are cool).

-Cumulated IQ:54

-Non-ironically does a peace sign and ahegao face after sex.

#ask #pokemon bimbo universe #Evil Team #Team Flare

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dragonnwriter · 1 year

Text

Inviolable Bindings

AemondxAegonxFemOC

All Chapters Here!

Chapter 4

It might have been the evening’s wine or maybe the comforts of the warm bed, but Viserra did not have trouble finding sleep that night. She played the interactions with Aemond over and over in her head before finally shutting her eyes, trying to ignore the strange feeling that stirred in her chest when imagining his face.

He had been right about her needing to be careful, the game that was being played here in the castle would end up costing many their lives. The Hand was no fool, he had indeed heard about Viserra’s dragon and her skill with the sword. She had been summoned to be a weapon for his disposal once the real chaos commenced. There would need to be much care in establishing allies and gauging who would be dangerous to deal with.

Viserra opened her eyes in the morning to Elia, lightly tapping her arm and holding a candle close to her face. “Lady Viserra, it will soon be dawn. I have brought some bread and butter to break your fast. Your leathers from yesterday have also been cleaned and laid out for you.”

The room was still dark with only the faintest hint that the sun would soon rise outside her window. She crawled out of bed, taking the fur with her and wrapping it around her chest. The bread had been freshly baked, the butter mixed with the perfect amount of salt, it all had practically melted in her mouth.

Without prompting, Elia started working on Viserra’s hair.

“A simple braid will do, but make sure my hair is pulled tight. I do not want it getting in the way in training this morning.”

Elia nodded in agreement and took her time braiding the sides of her hair back. The long braid she finished with, was tight as requested and tied off at the end with a thick leather band. On top of her tunic and breeches, she chose a black leather corset to offer some protection to her core. Viserra had the slightest hunch that this morning would be challenging and there wasn’t any reason to not be totally prepared. After helping her lace up the corset, Elia stepped aside as Viserra grabbed for her weapons.

“Elia, would you be so kind as to lead me to the training yard? I believe that I can get myself back to the castle gates, but would prefer someone to walk with me just this once.”

Elia immediately nodded and without another word, she turned to lead the way to the training yard. The sun was coming up now, just peeking over the horizon and illuminating the hallways and corridors. She noted that the castle was very much alive at this hour, many servants and maids were scurrying about while starting on their daily duties.

The walk back to the front gates of the castle looked familiar and Viserra had confidence that she would be able to navigate it by herself from now on. Eventually, they reached the outdoor courtyard that was still shaded by the tall castle walls.

The yard had already started to fill with people looking to start their training early. The chaos of clanging swords and other various weapons rang like music to Viserra’s ears. Wooden blocks and straw men were being mauled and there was low noises of groans and grunts from those training. On the sidelines there were a few onlookers, both women and men alike, observing the action and talking amongst themselves.

Viserra walked closer into the yard, scanning her eyes for the familiar one-eyed prince. It took only a second to spot him, his tall frame leaning against a pillar, his long platinum hair neatly tied back and his eye fixed right on her.

Once she descended into the chaos, many started to notice the unfamiliar woman curiously dressed to train. One by one, they started to either whisper to each other or silently stare.

Aemond was dressed in his own training leathers, his steel sword in one hand and the other resting on his belt. He was clearly ready for a fight and by the looks of him, he wasn’t going to go easy on her.

“Good morning,” Viserra greeted, giving him a small nod and taking another look at his presentation. She briefly studied his face, looking at the pink scar that stuck out above and below his eye patch. He was most definitely handsome in the sunlight, despite the scar and one eye.

Her staring did not go unnoticed and Aemond straightened himself up under her gaze. Had she made him feel uncomfortable? An interesting thought seeing as she was the only person in the yard that was being gawked and snickered at.

Aemond took a moment to also size up his opponent. Her training leathers were worn, it was obvious that she didn’t just wear them for show. The corset tied securely to her torso was made of thick leather that would help absorb a blow to the belly. Her silver hair was shining bright in the morning sunlight as were her striking violet eyes. His own eye narrowed as they held each other’s gaze and he told himself he would not be distracted by her appearance.

A subtle irritated and arrogant look crossed over Aemond’s face. “Do you need to warm up before we start?” He asked her, hoping to focus himself on the upcoming challenge.

Viserra shook her head, “No”

“Very well. We both will be equipped with a sword and dagger, nothing more… to make the spar fair.” He then turned to make his way over to the center of the yard.

Rolling her eyes and following in his footsteps, she taunted him in a light and teasing tone, “Ah, expecting to follow rules makes me think you have not yet seen real battle.”

He pretended to be unbothered by her comment, the truth was he had never fought outside of the training yard before. But little did she know, he had been trained by one of the best knights in the Seven Kingdoms. If she was judging him only on his lack of true battle experience, it would be she who underestimated him.

“I am never one to refuse a challenge. Come, this might be rather entertaining if I am to be quite honest.” He had turned on his heels and faced her in the yard, placing his hand on his sword and drawing it out of the scabbard.

Challenge? She thought to herself. I thought this was for the purpose of proving my skills for the battlefield. She rolled her eyes at him, slightly irritated at his ego. He was threatened by a woman claiming she could wield a weapon. Typical of a man.

Viserra took her own position, pulling her sword out and looking around at the crowd that had surrounded the area they occupied. “Let us give them a show then, hm?” She smiled and gestured towards the people watching. Noticing the fire in his eye, she felt her own blood start to simmer in excitement.

The tension that filled the training yard from both opponents and their onlookers was palpable. Each one of them waiting for the other to make a first move. It was Viserra who took the offensive position first, taking a deep breath in and then lunging forward to connect her sword to his.

There was no hesitation in her movements and after catching the first couple swings with his blade, he found himself being pushed back defensively. With each blow, he began to grow more and more irritated but hid this behind his cold face.

It was at that moment he realized he had underestimated her. However, he still did not think she would be able to win this duel. If she had not been a woman, would have admired the ferocity and speed behind her movements. His ego flared and the fire within him raged forwards. It was time to turn the tables on her.

Aemond’s blade swung in a sweeping arch towards her, trying to use his strength to overpower his opponent. She had blocked his attack again, but the shear force had started to shift the power into his hands. He would not remain on his back foot. At this moment, there was nothing more that he wanted then to bring this woman to her knees.

Watching his impatience bloom and his impulsive swings come at her in frustration, Viserra took his ego to her advantage. The next powerful swing that came at her was slightly off in its trajectory, giving her the opportunity to duck and roll under his weapon and come right up to his side. She took the flat end of her sword and tapped it to his backside, backing up after the action that would be sure to anger him even further. While before his irritation and anger was only detectable by his energy, this was the first time he blatantly showed it on his face.

If he wanted to beat her, he would need to calm himself and fight with calculation and precision. She was used to larger men trying to use their brute strength to overpower her and win these fights. It was always the same: men blinded by anger that a woman was besting them and causing all strategy to go out the window.

Aemond was not amused by Viserra’s jest in the middle of the spar. He felt the flat end of the blade tap his bottom and the rage he felt immediately with the contact was almost blinding. It was already hard to maintain focus and concentration when fighting a woman, but this was simply tasteless behavior and he thought she was trying to humiliate him.

Once he turned towards her again, his face showed a mix of fury and frustration. He continued to swing his blade at her with heavy and powerful blows. Each swing was accompanied with grunts and groans, showing the amount of exertion it took to keep her on the defense. His face was red and his lips pursed tight as he tried to overpower the woman before him. If he could just knock her to the ground and pin her, he would surely have the strength to make her yield.

Viserra carefully continued to block his blows, feeling her arms tire but trying to hold strong out of plain spite. They moved out of the shade and she noticed his face glistening in the morning sun, realizing he was absolutely beautiful while sweaty and agitated.

“Your anger and humiliation will not win you this fight,” she breathed out heavily, still tracking his moves carefully and blocking them as they came. Both of their cheeks flushed a deep red from the amount of energy it was drawing out of them. The crowd started to buzz with noise, not only shocked at the woman’s ability to fight, but watching someone hold their own against the prince.

Aemond had grown so frustrated with himself and the situation, that he interpreted the noise of the crowd to be taunting. His pride had wanted the onlookers to get riled up on his side, but something in him told him that they were focused on his opponent. This only spurred his frustration further until he finally knocked her weapon up and out of her hands. His next move was to land a heavy blow to her stomach with the hilt of his sword.

As expected, she lost her bearings, unable to catch her breath with the wind knocked out of her. There wasn’t more than a second that went by after she hit the dirt when he pounced on top of her.

Viserra hit the ground with a thud and suddenly Aemond was sitting on top of her, pinning her down with his sword to her throat. His pupil was dilated, he was breathing hard with heavy breaths, but he still tried to hide his face from the anger he felt within.

When he looked upon her face, she wore an expression that was hard to interpret. While he expected her to be surprised or wear a disappointed look of defeat, he saw that her own pupils were dilated and there was a fire that shone behind them.

While analyzing her expression he ended up distracted by her own sharp Valyrian features, her chest heaving up and down with each tired breath, and plump rose colored lips that were slightly agape.

Suddenly it occurred to him that he was straddling this woman in a compromising position and felt an unhonorable desire while pressed against her body. His face again twisted into a combination of anger and contempt as he brought his sword closer to her skin.

“Yield!” He commanded through clenched teeth, again pressing his blade into her neck threatening to draw blood if she did not surrender.

Viserra let her mouth close and the corners of her lips turned slightly upwards. He scowled and watched as her eyes trailed from his face and down towards his chest.

“You might want to think again,” she huffed, continuing to hold her gaze downwards.

Aemond looked in the direction her eyes led him, realizing that she must have pulled the dagger from her thigh on the way down to the ground and it was now pressed against his stomach. They had each other at knifepoint.

The fight was a draw.

Letting out an angry laugh, Aemond almost couldn’t believe what was happening. “You think you’ve got me?” He held his blade fast to her neck, having no intention of removing it at that moment. “You are the one with a blade to your neck, not a mere dagger held somewhere less likely to inflict a fatal wound.”

She only smirked back at him and pressed the dagger harder into his gut. He felt the blood rushing to his head, trying to also clear the unwelcome wave of desire that washed over him as she held her ground.

“I do not think it is the question of whose weapon would inflict the most fatal injury. I believe it is down to who would actually inflict a wound in the first place,” she said in a low voice that only he would be able to hear.

Continuing to stare into her eyes with his own that was filled with resentment, he couldn’t quite figure out why this woman was driving him so mad. Was it the way she spoke to him or looked at him, or that she seemed to always be one step ahead of him? It might have made sense that two people whose blood ran incredibly hot would feel so consumed by each other in a heated fight. No matter, he had to break this impasse between the two of them. Either she would yield or he would force her to. He would win this fight; he had worked too hard to let this woman take away his reputation.

He pressed his blade into her neck again and this time watched it draw the smallest amount of blood. He looked into her eyes again, trying to tell her that he was not afraid of taking it a step further but she only responded with widening her smirk and a surge of that fire in her eyes.

The crowd had gone silent at this point, watching a spar appear to turn into something much more serious. The pair was too wrapped up in their power struggle to hear the quick and heavy footsteps approaching them in the dirt.

“That is ENOUGH!” The voice boomed and suddenly Aemond was being pulled off of Viserra. The action was enough to quickly snap them both out of the trance they had held between each other.

The irritated voice was from no other than that of the Hand, Viserra had recognized it right away. The man had a scowl on his face that was directed at Aemond and he was more than annoyed that his grandson did not immediately give him an explanation or response.

Suddenly, a round of clapping was started by someone that followed with a distinct belly laugh. It was Aemond’s brother who walked up next, a look that showed he had been more than entertained by the fight he had seen. The other onlookers followed in suit with his gesture and began clapping and hollering while slowly dispersing back around the yard.

“Gods be good! What in the Seven Hells is going on here?” The Hand directed his question at Aemond again while he helped Viserra rise up from the ground.

It probably wasn’t her place to step in-between the grandsire and grandson, but Viserra decided to interject. “I believe Prince Aemond had only wanted to validate my competence and skills before entrusting me to serve your family.” She looked over at Aemond, whose jaw was still tense with frustration but at this point he was again trying to hide it.

“By Gods, I am impressed! I haven’t seen such an entertaining fight since the last tourney,” Aegon laughed as he bumped his tense brother with his elbow. The Hand chose to ignore the older prince and instead continued to look to Aemond for confirmation.

“Is this true, Aemond?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. “Did you not think that I would be fully confident in her abilities before summoning her here?”

Aemond nodded just slightly. He did not want to show vulnerability, he had had no intentions to yield and his irritation was now spurred by his grandsire who not only interrupted their duel, but now tried to make him feel small.

“Looks to me as if the fight were a draw. You almost let a woman beat you, Brother!” Aegon teased him without a second thought. Viserra had thought to herself that it seemed foolish, seeing how heated and out of control his brother was just moments before.

It was obvious that the whole thing was eating away at Aemond’s pride and he was feeling absolutely humiliated. Indeed they had both surprised one another, despite their mutual underestimation, they had held up exceedingly well when it came down to it.

“You are an excellent swordsman, my Prince. I am impressed with your skill, especially since you have not ever been to battle.” She wouldn’t give him a compliment without taking a jab at his ego either.

Aegon snorted out a laugh.

Slowly, she took a step closer to Aemond and watched as he tensed up in response. “I hope to ride by your side on dragonback in battle one day. It would be an honor.” The words weren’t entirely true, but it was more to get the Hand off of their case and to stay in his good graces.

There were a few moments of silence, each of them trying to find the words to break the tension.

She brushed the hair out of her face. Looking over, she could see Aegon studying her with a hungry look in his eyes. This man was one she would have to watch out for when it came to unwanted advances. Each time she had interacted with him, he had looked at her like she was a tasty piece of meat. She wouldn’t deny that he had a certain beauty of his own, but she tended to find irritation in men with such egos instead of flattery.

The Hand ignored Aegon and looked at Aemond and Viserra, addressing them both, “We will be breaking our fast in moments time, it would be best to clean up and look presentable for such.” He then turned to Aemond, “I will follow you back to your quarters, I would like to speak with you.” He turned on his heels and started walking away. Aemond took one last glance at Viserra, pursed his lips and narrowed his eye, then walked after his grandsire.

This is going to make for an interesting morning. She thought to herself, looking around to see that most everyone else had gone back to their usual business, then she brought her eyes back to Aegon’s.

Before Viserra could open her mouth to say a word, Aegon spoke and held out his arm, “It would be my pleasure to escort you back to your chambers.” The smile he wore on his face made her roll her eyes but she didn’t feel like she was in a place to decline the offer.

Taking his arm lightly, she let him lead her back into the hallways, prepared for whatever the morning was going to bring. She still had so many questions, especially regarding the roles of the other family members that had been present at last night’s dinner. He made small talk the whole way back, seeming genuinely interested in learning more about her. His friendliness and playful nature was in stark contrast to his brother, something that had her rather perplexed.

“You should tell your chambermaid to draw you a bath,” he laughed as Elia greeted the pair at the doors of her quarters, “You are rather covered in dust and dirt and I am sure even a pretty girl like you tends to sweat in combat. I will see you in an hour at the dining hall? You are welcome to sit next to me. It would be a surprise if my brother shows up after you crushed his ego in the training yard. We might not see him for a few days after that display.” He didn’t give her time to respond, but instead gave a laugh while turning to walk away.

Viserra allowed him a small chuckle before turning and nodding towards Elia. The girl met her with wide eyes. “What? You heard the prince. Draw me another bath. I will pick out a dress to wear today.”

The girl did as told and Viserra found herself smiling while replaying the events that just transpired in the training yard. Overall, she was rather pleased with things, but truly only the gods knew how these relationships would develop over time.

Author's note:

Thanks for everyone hanging in there with me through this slow burn. I promise the sexual tension is going to start now and then the good stuff will show up within a few more chapters. :)

#aemond x aegon ii x oc #aegon ii x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aegon smut #slow burn #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #house of the dragon #house of dragons #game of thrones #house targaryen #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon aemond #dragons

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