#// how dare you say such nice things to me my dude that's so kind of you

[hopefromadoomedtimeline]

"Look at you..all grown up and confident. I was right to put all of Humanity's hope on you. But I'm also sorry, that I couldn't be strong enough to give you a normal childhood. You're someone that deserve fond memories, you deserve to have dreams and be happy. Honestly, the life of a warrior was never something I wanted for you, this burden. Although I knew in my heart that you could bear it..it just..I only wished I could have been a better older brother. But seeing you, this you right here right now..it eases my heart to know the little brother I have now will one day find peace. I only hope you could find it in your heart to forgive me for not being strong enough." (From a Gohan that's just recovered after losing his arm.) //ALSO this is to the GOAT, trust me bro when it comes to writing this character you are HIM.

"Gohan I-"

He found it hard to find the words. What would he say that he hadn't cried out countless times before? That he was sorry that he still wasn't strong enough? Sorry that he had to lose his arm for him? Sorry that he wasted the last senzu bean on him? He had been sitting next to Gohan along with Bulma day in and day out, waiting for his mentor's recovery so he could give a proper apology to the man he owed so much to. Even after spending hours thinking about what he wanted to say, his thoughts were clouded and hazy as too many emotions were running around at once.

"Don't apologize- I'm the one who should be doing that..."

His eyes focus on where Gohan's arm used to be. The man had sacrificed so much for his sake, and he couldn't even repay the favor by turning into a Super Saiyan. He felt pathetic, but he didn't want Gohan to catch him feeling sorry for himself- This wasn't about him, it was about his mentor. No matter what, from now on, he had to resolve to be worthy of this praise.

"When you get your energy back, I'm gonna make you proud Gohan. I'm gonna work twice, no, thrice as hard! And I'm gonna turn Super Saiyan right before your eyes! You'll see, those monsters won't know what hit them!"

[jarofstyles]

Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

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WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

[anieswrld]

NASTY DOG !!! -> TOJI.F

warnings: mdni, toji is fucking nasty. mentions of: shooting someone, squirting, sex tapes. he’s kind of an asshole but a nice one? idk this came to me at 3am<3 i’ve been cooking this for days to get me out of my writing slump :)

Toji is a nasty man, that we know. But, my god….he was so fucking nasty. He loved fucking you in the craziest positions just because he loved the way your pussy swallowed his big cock. The first time you two fucked you swore to whatever god was out there that he was gonna split you right in fucking half. 

That was also when he found out you could squirt for him, and oh fuck that sight was like a drug to him. He was addicted to watching you gush all over his face, fingers, and especially his cock. He loved recording it too, you were just so fucking good for him he couldn’t get enough of watching how his dick got lost in your cunt. He reassured he would never dare let anyone feast their eyes on such a sight, if anybody ever caught a glance at one of your home videos he would grab his .44 and shoot them right in the fucking face. 

And you knew it too. And fuck it made you wet. If you two were out and a guy stares at you for a little long you didn't have to look at Toji to know that he subtly flashed his gun that rested in the waistband of his pants. Safe to say the guy fucked off after that. He was possessive but he couldn’t let a pretty little thing like yourself get taken from him, he would one hundred percent crash out a kill a motherfucker if he lost you to some fucking guy. 

“Toji, I’m not gonna let some dude steal me from you, are you fucking stupid?” Is what you’d always tell him and without missing a beat he would always answer with a scoff. “Yeah yeah but if some guy whisked you away I would fucking snipe him.” 

At the end of the day though? You both matched each other's freak so well. You were just as nasty as him in his eyes. I mean why else would you suggest grinding your soaked cunt against his thigh for three hours as foreplay? Why would you beg him to fuck your throat and cum in your mouth? You were just as fucking nasty as him. 

He had you on your side, laid behind you stroking his cock a few times,  his phone was propped up on his dresser, a full view of everything that was happening. He pushed into you without a warning,  a groan leaving his throat. He started  kissing the back of your neck as he began to fuck you with all his strenth. He was making such a mess of you and he just started. 

“Fuck toji-! You’re so deep!” You threw your head back in pure ecstasy, god he fucked you so good, hitting the best spots inside you. You glanced at his phone that was catching all of this on camera, seeing how you were taking his cock. 

“Yeah baby, watch yourself take this dick hm? See how you just- fuck- how you just fucking take it…?” He asks between groans and pants, if Toji wasn’t so egotistical he would be moaning at how good you felt around him. 

“Yeah that’s it, take it, fuck. You love getting fucked huh?” He laughed breathlessly as he thrusted harder into your poor cunt. You just moaned in response as his arm loosely wrapped around your neck, putting you in a loose headlock. 

He tsked as you pulled away from his cock slightly, “Quit runnin’ and take it. Since you wanted to get your shit ruined so badly.”He pulled you back with ease, you were almost sure he was hitting your cervix at this point, you would be sore later but that didn’t matter now. Your eyes rolled back into your head just a moaning, drooling, slutty mess for him. The noises your cunt was making were so filthy, loud squelching filled the room. 

Toji was quick to shush you, laughing breathlessly. “Nuh uh baby, I’m tryna hear this pussy talk right now. So slutty for me huh?” You gripped onto his arm with all the strength you could. At this point you were sure he was gonna fuck you unconscious. You braced yourself for the intense orgasm that was building up, Toji knew it too just from how your moans grew higher in pitch. He knew your body so well, all your tells gave you away in any circumstance.

“You gonna cum for me pretty?” He pants, fucking into you harder. He smiled as he just hear you moan in response. “Haven’t even finished round one and you’re already done for? Damn baby gotta build up your stamina huh?” 

Fuck, you thought to yourself, you were done for.

[okkotsuus]

PLEASE i need that dealing with ur ex as ur boyf but for barou cus i KNOW that man would GO OFF!

ex encounters (bllk pt.2) !

no because barou would beat the shit out of someone. i'm jut gonna include the rest i wanted for pt.2 with this <3

features: barou s. jingo r. rensuke k. meguru b.

contents: bad exes. ig hurt comfort. kind of comical. barou tries to fight someone. raichi actually fights someone. barou, raichi, and kunigami are physically imposing. bachira pretends to be cray cray (is he really pretending tho?). they're adults bc i said so. 1.9k words.

tw for the exes: copying you. light implied obsession. second choice. gas lighting. being physically imposing. cheating. implied love bombing. stage 5 clinger (derogatory). extremely mild stalking? (can't think of a better word for it).

pt.1 — pt.3 — pt.4

barou would be so bothered, he would verbally degrade the poor dude to tears. not to mention how physically imposing the man is, the ex would be SPRINTING away.

it all started about three years ago when you broke up with your ex, because you just didn't love him anymore and didn't want to keep him trapped in a loveless relationship.

you always felt bad about it, but never bad enough to get back together with him. especially not after barou had barged his way into your life, conquering your heart.

you were sitting on a bench in the park while waiting for him to come back from getting ice cream for the two of you. y'know, not expecting to see your ex, you were minding your business and scrolling though tiktok.

"y/n, hey!" you looked up to see your ex, at first you were confused because frankly, you didn't recognize him. he had changed a lot about himself, physically, dying his hair and dressing different.

part of you already had an idea where this was going. so, you just smiled at him and tried your best to be polite.

"oh, hello." yep, polite, but not nice so that it would lead him on. he stated blabbing on about how he had changed a lot lately, talking about things from the food he liked to the music he listened to. you noticed that it was all things that you had done or liked back when the two of you were together. it was kind of creeping you out.

"i guess what i'm trying to say is: will you please give me another chance. we should be much more compatible now-" you watched half in amusement and half in shock as a cone of ice cream was sat on his freshly coiffed hair.

your ex whirled around in anger, but immediately when dead still when he saw who did it: your boyfriend, barou. he was now holding only one ice cream as he stared down on your ex.

"you dare to speak to MY servant? begone from my sight, you filthy donkey." his words were spat with a venom as he threateningly stepped towards your ex who ran away.

he grumbled and handed you the ice cream he didn't shove on your ex's head, watching as you looked at him with stars in your eyes. he just huffed and ruffled your hair, looking away to hide the slight flush on his cheeks.

"he won't bother you again, but you better share your ice cream with me as a thanks."

jingo would swing on sight. i’m being so deadass he would sucker punch them and spit on them before looking at you all smiley and walking out while holding your hand.

while on a date with raichi, you had lost him in the aisles of the target that you had chosen to torment. you and him had been having a grand time while terrorizing everyone there with your boisterous cackles at any little thing that slightly amused you.

you had looped around an aisle to find him after walking too fast and he was no where in sight. at first you thought he was hiding from you as a joke so you jumped at the beginning of every aisle to try to catch him off guard. but no one was there.

well no one except your ex. because of course he was there. why wouldn't he be in this random target while you just happened to by separated from your boyfriend?

he wasn't a terrible person per say, but he just had a tendency to choose other things or people over you. that was just something that gnawed at you until you snapped which lead to this big fight, where he accused you of making everything up. that was the last straw for you so you broke up with him and never spoke to him, ignoring his calls until they stopped coming.

but here he was, standing directly in front of you, a wobbly smile on his lips that didn't match the look in his eyes. "hey, honey. how've you been? i've been really bad without you..."

you didn't answer and just stared at him while backing off slightly. he just continued, taking a step forward for every one you took back.

"i really miss you, you make me complete"

"you don't really mean that." the words flew from your lips before you could think, speaking the cold and harsh truth. he knew that as his expression turned in anger, taking a bigger step towards you.

but he was immediately thrown back by a fist ramming right against his cheek. he flew back and stood there stunned, taking in the sight of your boyfriend. his widened eyes, sharp teeth, and muscular form. raichi was cracking his knuckles as he growled at the guy.

your ex was about to swing back only to be punched straight in the nose, falling to the ground, being temporarily knocked out. raichi spat on him and turned to you, grimace turning into a sweet grin. he held your hand as an employee kicked you out of the store.

"we're definitely banned, don't regret it though angel, there are other targets."

rensuke would be just annoyed. he knows what he looks like compared to most men and just stands behind you while looking at the guy, doesn’t even have to do anything.

you were sitting at a table in your favorite restaurant while kunigami went to park the car, wanting to optimize the time that it would take to wait for a table. surprisingly, it wasn't very packed so you were able to get one as soon as you asked the hostess.

so, here you sat, sipping on your water as you waited for your boyfriend to come back to join you.

what you didn't expect was to feel an unfamiliar hand on your shoulder, turning to see your ex. he wasn't anything special; the typical cheater. he was so sweet to you at the beginning of it all, treating you as if he was your world almost instantly. that really should have only clued to you that he was hiding something.

he cheated on you with not only one person, but THREE. so he was the furthest from someone you could get back together with. so when he started doing the same sweet lines that he had given you during the beginning of your relationship, a familiar sense of dread set in.

"hey there pretty, missed ya so much, why don't i join you here?"

you just shook your head as you noticed rensuke approaching from the front of the restaurant. you had stopped listening to your ex and you watched his form talk to the hostess.

she pointed in your direction, and you watched as his gaze moved upon you and the predicament you were in. he sent an apologetic smile your way as he walked with a slight haste you way.

"...and those are the reasons why we would be perfect if we got back together." he finished off a long spiel that you, frankly, weren't listening to. you just nodded, watching as rensuke settled behind the guy, waiting for him to notice.

"that's nice and all, it's just: i already have a boyfriend. plus, you cheated on me." your ex just sighed and began to start complimenting you, saying he was such a fool.

rensuke cleared his throat as he stood with his arms crossed, a brow quirked. he was kinda hot like this, to be honest. your ex just turned around and when he saw him, you saw his eyes widen.

your ex just looked between the two of you, acknowledging your loving gaze at the other man, he just sighed and left. rensuke snickered and sat across from you, flipping through the menu.

"can't take ya anywhere, can i, sweetheart?"

meguru would go like feral. he would start talking to the monster in front of the dude and just make him think he was batshit crazy. i mean, it worked, so whatever.

you were sitting with bachira on a bench while he idly chattered about bees. you just smiled as you listened to him list off all sorts of things that you couldn't understand through the jumbling of his words from excitement.

suddenly, your pleasant afternoon was interrupted by a voice shouting your name. you turned to see you ex running up to you with a smile. he never really left you alone, even after you had broken up. always happy to see you and insert himself into anything that you were doing. like a nosey dog. somehow, he was everywhere you were, like he knew you'd be there.

"heya! how've you been, missed you!" he went in for a side-hug but you scooted further into bachira's side, skirting away from it. bachira had long forgotten his beloved bees, instead scrutinizing your ex with a hollow, yellow gaze.

"hey..." you trailed off, lookng away as he sat down, squeezing into the two person bench, legs against yours. so you leaned further into bachira, relishing in the arm he draped over the back of the bench to rest around your shoulders. you also saw the glare your ex shot his way.

"just wanted you to know that i've really missed you, and i'm practically begging you for another chance!" his tone was chipper as his eyes glared harshly into your boyfriend, holding all but friendliness.

bachira suddenly burst into laughter, cackling like a maniac. he looked at the ground in front of the two of you, as if something was there.

"d'you hear the never of this guy? flirting with my partner right in front of me?" he spoke to nothing, it took you a little aback at first before remembering about his 'monster.' your ex just looked at him with wide eyes, clearly freaked out.

bachira nodded at the spot, mumbling agreements. he suddenly turned to your ex, looking him dead in the eye, piercing into him. his face was blank, eyes wide and empty, the only expression was a smirk on his lips.

"the monster in me says that the world would be better of without you... and i agree." your ex jumped up and muttered a goodbye to you before speedwalking away.

you turned to bachira and watched him shake his head like a dog, expression returning to normal as he looked at you with sparkly eyes and a genuine smile. your heart returned to normal as he kissed your shoulder.

"i may be crazy for you, sweet thing, but i'm not actually crazy. yet..."

okkotsuus 23

[ronearoundblindly]

For the dirty A-Z headcanon game can I get an A for Steve Rogers?

From this ask game, and I love you to the end of the line, anon, because this is pretty much THE one I wanted to answer...

A - Alone Time

How does he get off when all by himself?

Does he watch porn?

Is it all in his imagination?

Does he jerk off?

Does he use toys?

In case it wasn't obvious... MINORS DNI (vaguely coded to be gender neutral for the possibility of steve x reader or stucky or whatever your flavor)

Here we go, babes. I know I've written several different versions of Steve in various universes, but this is gonna be more generalized and not involve the very specific background experiences I've written into other things. This is just my good ol' fashioned headcanon of Steve masturbating!

This man takes his time--or at least would prefer to--even when it's just him. He will gently touch/play with himself for a while before grabbing his dick. Grazing his nails over his thighs. Pinching his nipples. I think this dude really has a thing with his throat? Like he thinks about teeth along his neck or being pulled forward by it and, yes, a squeeze or two. Don't flame me, I'm just saying!

He craves foreplay, is what I mean, and I don't think Steve feels fully aroused unless more than just his genitals are involved in the act, ya know?

He watches porn, but only for examples. There's a whole lot in modern pornography that is a huge turn-off for him. Steve uses certain imagery or sounds/sayings that he found in porn and kinda edits them together for his pleasure later--like mentally edits, lord knows, because that man would not get the hang of Final Cut Pro OR iMovie, feel me?--plus that way he can imagine a certain someone's voice actually saying those things to him or doing them to him.

Which brings us to Steve's imagination which is unbelievably vivid and runs rampant. Think about it: he's a strategist. He has to see tons of possible scenarios play out all at once, analyze where that leads and where that leaves him, and then plan to thwart or redirect all that happens into an ideal outcome. Don't tell me that artist does not have an incredible mind's eye.

Then we get to Steve finally touching himself expressly to come.

He's toyed with himself for a while, maybe gotten close but held back, probably enjoyed finding friction not with his fist. For some reason, I thoroughly believe he has a thing for fabrics? This guy enjoys the glide of silk and satin. I bet his sheets are nice and slick so he can thrust against them a little and think of a pretty skirt or a dressy, formal glove.

Actual toys? Like the kind advertised as sex toys? Like the kind he'd have to purchase with money in some capacity? No. I think shy Steve hasn't figured out a way to discreetly (and by that I mean, untraceably) do that. He refuses to use anything online attached to his name--credit card or secondary/digital wallet whatever--to buy something or to tell someone what he would want them to buy for him because then that person would know! He'd keel over from embarrassment right then and there!! ARE YOU INSANE?!?!

No. What Steve will do is get seemingly useful things for innocuous reasons and play dumb blond if anyone ever insinuates it could be a sex toy. That man can and will absolutely lie like a champ to keep those secrets. That man is a super soldier but his muscles still get sore; that's what the massager is for, not his taint, nuh-uh no how. How dare you ask him!

Which brings us to the climax: his climax.

Steve prefers to finish in the shower. He's spent all that time enjoying the feel of his hands or various textures, the dry (but not painful) drag of everything before the slick lubrication of lotion or conditioner creates a welcome high under the spray of water, and then, yes, he can clean himself right off afterward. Highly efficient. Also very effective at training his brain to get off quickly in a shower if necessary.

Strategy, you guys, it's all about strategy.

Thank you for asking!

A/N: Are my answers to these like an audition for the Shameless Hoe Club? Maybe. Or maybe Ro has just lost the ability to filter herself...or care 🤭

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[lukabitch]

Idk if requests are off, I'm sorry if they are Q-Q. But could we get a "How they would react" kind of thing, to one of the other survivors tripping you mid chase to save themselves?

With M! Reader x your choice of killers

(maybe one of the killers being Wesker or Myers?)

Also, take as much time as you need <3

Personally I think I would’ve tripped myself. You can always check my pinned post to see if requests are open! Thank you so much for the request Anon! :)

Killers: Wesker, Micheal Myers, Ghostface, Trickster.

Cw: typical dbd violence, betrayal, lil bit of angst, wholesome stuff.

Wesker:

It was a standard last chase of the trial. You were just trying to make it to the exit gate.

It was just you and your injured teammate. You though you had this under control.

That was until your teammate tripped you and tried to make the final sprint.

Key word is tried.

Wesker was having non of it.

He would very quickly take care of the traitor.

He watched you slowly crawl towards the gate in a last ditch effort.

He would very calmly walk over and pick you up slinging you over his shoulder.

Of course you put up the best fight you could.

Until you realize that Wesker was surprisingly giving you mercy.

Don’t be fooled though he may be merciful but not for long.

You found this out when he just threw you out.

“Please be careful next time. I won’t be so nice if you fall for that trick again.”

Ghostface:

You were running away with all the energy you had and Ghostie was hot on your trail.

He almost had you that was until your teammate came out of nowhere.

The person was quick to realize what they had just done and acted just as fast.

They pushed you back into him.

Needless to say he was absolutely fuming.

How dare that piece of shit ruin the perfect chase he was having.

Not only did the asshole ruin the chase they also hurt your ankle.

“Here let me help.” You had to do a double take. A killer being nice to you? Huh?

He picked you up and placed you next to a gate.

“I won’t be so nice next time pretty boy.” You got head pats before he went off.

Trickster:

He was being particularly ruthless this trial not slowing down with his knives.

This resulted in everyone being on edge the entire trial.

You were just unlucky enough to be the dude he was chasing.

A glimmer of hope came when you saw one of your teammates ahead.

Though it was short lived when they hit you in the face with a rock.

You have to admit they had good aim.

But this most certainly did not fly with Trickster.

Your face was his to mess up how dare some bitch take his joy.

He completely ignored you and ran ahead knocking said bitch to the ground.

“Don’t worry song bird I’ll be saving you for last!” He says that like it’s good thing but hey maybe you’ll get out.

Micheal Myers:

You fucked up.

You’re dumbass let him get to tier 3 and your last teammate was pissed.

So pissed off that they kicked you in the dick when you were being chased.

Micheal watched you roll on the ground in pain.

He didn’t really have time to waste and left you to take care of yourself.

A quick one two and the teammate was dead and you were alone.

You didn’t really put up a fight when he came back for you.

But to your surprise he pointed to where the hatch was.

He got joy out of your pain and you did help him accidentally.

He just thinks you did your job very well today.

[hairstevington]

Do I wanna know?

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Somewhere in the multiverse, there is a world where everyone has a choice - If you had the option of reading a list of everyone who's ever been in love with you, would you do it?

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Modern day AU sort of?? It's not based in realism, just go with it. Best friends to lovers, Robin & Steve & Eddie all live together because I said so, mutual pining, fluff, confession of feelings, lots of denial but they figure it out eventually

A/N: This idea came to me during my stats class, and then it became very difficult to continue focusing on my stats class. (I wrote it as soon as we were dismissed lol). Enjoy this cute little Steddie one shot! Ao3 link here :)

--------------------

“Dude, did you see what they just announced?” Steve asked as he played video games with Eddie.

“Yeah, it’s some wild shit,” Eddie replied. “How is it even possible?”

“I think it’s fake,” Robin called from the kitchen as she made them all pizza rolls. 

“Not fake,” Steve insisted. “I was reading about it on the internet and a bunch of people are saying it’s legit.”

“Well, if you read it on the internet, it must be true,” Robin remarked sarcastically. 

“Whatever,” Steve said. “I’m gonna get mine and find out.”

The deal was that, somehow, everyone had the option of getting a list of statistics about their lives. It was advertised with a variety of categories to look through - some of them could have been retrieved through bank statements and background checks, like the number of countries visited, money spent, etc. Other categories (let’s be real, the most intriguing categories), were far more mysterious.

Number of near-death experiences. Every book you’ve read, with a total word count. And, the most exciting of the bunch - How many people have been in love with you, and who.

“Don’t waste your money or your time,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s bullshit. Probably just another way for the government to squeeze more money out of us.”

“Come on, it’s not some conspiracy, Eds,” Steve replied. “I’m just curious, that's all.”

“Oh, I bet,” Robin chimed in. “Just be honest and admit you want to know about the love thing. You and your ego, Dingus.” Steve smiled. He couldn’t argue with her.

“As if you’re not also dying to read yours,” he countered. 

“I’m pretty sure mine would just hurt my feelings,” Robin said with a sigh. “Robin Buckley - loved by her platonic soulmate Steve Harrington and Creepy Carl from band camp.” Eddie snickered.

“Carl wasn’t that creepy,” he said. 

“You’re only saying that because you were also kind of creepy in high school,” she replied. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Eddie responded with a shrug. “But I think I speak for all former creeps when I say we were just socially stunted and awkward. Most of us grew up to be half-decent people.”

“Way to humble brag,” Steve teased. 

“I’m bragging by saying I’m half-decent?” Eddie replied. Steve laughed and nodded. Meanwhile, Robin quickly scrolled through her phone until she stumbled across what she was looking for with a gasp.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Creepy Carl’s most recent post is about how the patriarchy is a myth.” Steve laughed again and pushed Eddie playfully. Eddie flopped over on the couch and groaned.

“Dammit, Carl, I was rooting for you!” he joked. 

“We were all rooting for you, how dare you!” the three of them shouted in unison. 

That was, of course, a reference to America’s Next Top Model, which Robin showed the boys clips of one night during a rant about the toxicity and absolute batshit nature of early 2000s reality TV. That quote, for whatever reason, stuck. They had a lot of inside jokes like that.

This is how life had been for the three of them the last few years. They’d become best friends straight out of high school, then all moved in together. Life was comfortable and nice. 

-

Steve somehow convinced Robin that they would both get their lists together. Eddie, on the other hand, downright refused.

“I don’t need any of that shit,” he insisted. “It’s not gonna do me any good, and I’m perfectly fine staying in the dark.”

“Okay, I get it,” Steve said, holding his hands up. “You’re scared and lame, that’s totally okay.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, dickhead,” he replied. “This whole thing is stupid anyway. And - and it’s not like we can seriously trust whatever it says. It’s probably just…all lies, anyway.”

“Yeah, but they’re fun lies,” Robin countered. “It’s like hearing gossip about your own life.”

“Exactly!” Steve agreed. “It’s just for fun.”

“Have your fun, then,” Eddie said devilishly. “I’ll be in my room, not being an idiot.”

Robin and Steve put their names and date of birth into a search engine and, within five minutes, each had their respective documents in their inboxes. Steve opened his immediately and eagerly, skipping past all the boring shit until he found the good stuff. 

Number of people who have had crushes on Steve Harrington: 436.

Number of people who have been in love with Steve Harrington: 85.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, looking at the long list of names. He looked up from his phone to see Robin staring at the wall. “Why aren’t you reading?”

“I don’t think I can do it,” she said. “I’m chickening out.” Steve scoffed. 

“What? Robs, come on. You already ordered the damn thing.”

“Yeah, but -” She sighed. “But now it’s, like, real.”

“Do you want me to read yours for you?” he asked. She shook her head. 

“No, I think I’m just going to keep it unread for now,” she decided. Steve shrugged.

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Robin scooted herself over on the couch so she could look at Steve’s phone screen. 

“Wait, they even have crushes on there?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Jeez, Harrington. That’s quite the list.” Steve smirked, realizing it very much did give him an ego boost. He continued scrolling to see even more categories.

Number of people Steve Harrington has had a crush on: 63.

Jesus, Steve thought to himself. That’s kind of embarrassing. In his defense, some of them were celebrities. He continued reading.

Number of people Steve Harrington has been in love with: 3.

Steve didn’t even have to read the list to know who was on it. He quickly clicked his phone off before Robin could see.

“Hey!” she said. “What was that for? It’s not like there are any secrets between us.”

“No, I just - I’ll read it later,” Steve said. 

Robin would usually be right. She was almost completely right. It’s just that Steve had one secret. And it wasn’t even really a secret, it was just something he kept to himself, because it didn’t really matter. 

Nancy Wheeler

Robin Buckley

Eddie Munson

He had barely admitted it to himself, honestly. It’s not like anything would happen. Him and Eddie were best friends, and if something was going to happen between them, it would have already happened. Now, they were too close, and living together. It was different. It didn’t matter. Besides, Robin was on his list, and he wasn’t running off to date her.

Steve put his phone away and didn’t check the list again for a couple days. 

-

“So, how’s the list?” Eddie asked one morning as he made a pot of coffee. “You haven’t said anything about it.” Steve shrugged.

“It’s like a million pages long,” Robin chimed in. Eddie clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“That’s not surprising,” he said. “It’s a shame Harrington isn’t much of a reader. It might take him years to get through.” Steve glared at Eddie, who grinned in response.

“Are you ever going to stop poking fun at me about that?” he wondered. 

“Aaaaabsolutely not,” Eddie replied. “Steve, The Hobbit is 310 pages. 310. Even one page a day you would have been done in a year, and you’re still not done.”

“Okay, listen,” Steve responded defensively. “It’s not my kind of book, alright?”

“He likes the ones with the pictures,” Robin teased. Eddie laughed and high-fived her. 

“Wooow, okay,” Steve replied. “I see how it is. I’m just gonna grab my cereal and go, then.”

“Nooo, don’t leave on our behalf,” Eddie said.

“We’re soorrrryyyyyy,” Robin added. Steve chuckled and shook his head. 

“Whatever,” he resigned. “I haven’t read the damn list. Not all of it, anyway.” Robin’s ears perked up.

“But you’ve read some of it, right?” she asked. “Spill!”

“Just the first ten names or so,” Steve said. He had gotten a glimpse when he skimmed over it the first time. “I think it’s in chronological order.”

“Anyone surprising?” Eddie wondered. Steve shook his head. 

“No,” he said. “Although it did confirm my suspicion that Katie Crystal was into me, after all.”

“I’m thinking maybe I should read mine,” Robin said quietly.

“Yeah, well duh,” Eddie replied. “You paid for it.”

“It’s just - it’s not a big deal, right?” Steve looked at Eddie to survey his reaction. Eddie just shrugged. “It’s like you said, Eds. We don’t even know if it’s accurate.”

Steve didn’t really know if all of it was accurate, but some of it sure as shit was.

“Exactly,” Eddie agreed. “So, Steve, there’s a chance that Katie Crystal actually hated your guts. Who’s to say?”

Steve rolled his eyes. Another few days passed. 

Robin flip-flopped between whether or not she wanted to read her list every few hours or so. Steve and Eddie placed their bets on how long it would take her to crack. 

Meanwhile, Steve counted his lucky stars that Eddie decided not to buy his list. It was clear that they were bros and nothing more, so Eddie finding out would have made everything incredibly weird.

This was for the best.

-

Things carried on as they usually did, until one day Steve was so bored, he decided to revisit the godforsaken document. Plus, he’d been on a few dates that ended in disaster, and reading about the hundreds of people that were into him was bound to put him in good spirits.

He had no idea just how right he was.

The names were all relatively normal. Steve tended to know when girls had a thing for him, especially back in high school. There were some names he didn’t recognize, which meant that there were total strangers crushing on him. He wondered how that was even possible. Like, at that point, they were just basing it on looks and vibes alone. 

Eh. Steve had crushes on people in the past over less. He kept reading.

He made his way down the list until he reached Eddie’s name. He read it again and again to make sure he was seeing it right. 

Eddie had said repeatedly that this thing could be total bullshit, though. Steve had to take it all with a grain of salt. Besides, crushes meant nothing. Hell, Steve was pretty sure Eddie had mentioned once that he thought Steve was hot when they first became friends. 

Steve made his way to the list of people who’d loved him. None of the names mattered except one. 

Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, shit,” Steve muttered. “Oh, shit!” He jumped up out of bed and paced the floor. He had no idea what to do with this information.

It could be bullshit. It could be nothing. 

Or maybe, Eddie had kept saying it was bullshit because he knew what Steve would find. 

“OH MY GOD.”

Robin came bursting into Steve’s room a few moments later. 

“What? What’s going on?” she said. She looked to see his phone on the floor and his hands in his hair. “Oh my god, you read it! What was it? What’s got you all freaked out?”

“I gotta - uhh - I gotta -” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence with Robin in the room. He had to find Eddie - that’s what he had to do. But his head was spinning too much to do so. 

“That’s it. I’m gonna read mine right now,” Robin decided. She swiftly left to go back to her room while Steve continued to pace. 

“Holy shit,” he said to himself. He thought about it for a few minutes, scrawled something on a piece of paper, and then walked down the hall to Eddie’s room.

Eddie opened the door a few inches, still wearing his sweatpants. He hadn’t left his room yet that day, but his guitar was lying on his bed, which meant he’d been practicing. 

“What’s up?” Eddie asked. 

“I finished the list,” Steve replied. Eddie’s jaw clenched just enough for Steve to notice, and then he shrugged. 

“And?” Steve continued to look at Eddie until he broke his composure. He sighed, then opened his door wider. “Come in,” he said. 

Steve had been in Eddie’s bedroom a million times. They’d watched movies in there and stayed up all night talking and smoked together and dear sweet lord I am so dumb for never noticing.

“Is it bullshit?” Steve asked. Eddie started spinning the ring on his middle finger anxiously, refusing to make eye contact.

“Uhh, is what bullshit?” Eddie replied. Steve put his hands on his hips and cocked his head. 

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about,” he said. “I just - is it bullshit? Tell me the truth.”

Eddie stared at him for a few long moments before gently shaking his head. 

“It’s not bullshit.”

Steve’s hands fell back to his sides, and he felt himself get lightheaded. 

“It’s -” he began, struggling to find the words. He cleared his throat. “Wow, I uh -”

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Eddie interjected. “Just so you know. I like what we have. We’re, ya know, we’re friends. Roommates.”

“Do you still -?” Steve started to ask. He noticed Eddie’s eyes flooded with fear, a sight he rarely saw. “I mean, do you still?”

“Steve, I -” Eddie began, his voice tired. “I really, uh. I don’t know what to say.” 

Steve dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he’d ripped from his notebook. He held it out for Eddie to take, and when Eddie didn’t reach for it, Steve stepped closer and stuffed the page right into Eddie’s hand. 

“Read it,” Steve encouraged.

“What is it?”

“It’s your list.” Eddie’s faced scrunched with confusion. “Yeah, I made it myself.” 

“I told you, I don’t wanna know,” he said, trying to give the paper back to Steve.

“Trust me, you do.”

Eddie sighed, then unfolded the paper and read it. 

People who are in love with Eddie Munson:

-Me

-(Steve Harrington)

Steve waited and watched Eddie’s eyes travel up and down the page, similar to the way Steve’s had when he read Eddie’s name on his own list. Finally, Eddie looked up. 

“Really?” he asked, his voice soft. Steve smiled and nodded. 

“Really.”

In that moment, they both knew this changed everything, and yet it changed nothing at all. They’d just skipped a bunch of steps of dating - blown past the getting-to-know-you stage straight into living together and doing all the domestic shit. 

Eddie and Steve each stepped toward the other until their hands met. 

“OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!”

Robin’s voice pierced through their intimate moment and completely obliterated it. The boys glanced at each other in confusion and then ran out to see what Robin was yelling about. 

She was already out the front door by the time they got to the kitchen. If this were a cartoon, she would have left behind a cloud of smoke. 

“What do you think that’s about?” Steve asked. Eddie felt his phone buzz and checked it to find Robin had texted a screenshot to the household group chat. He smirked.

“Vicki’s on her list,” Eddie said. Steve chuckled, happy that everyone managed to find their happy ending. 

“You know what that means?” Steve asked. 

“That you owe me 20 bucks?” Eddie teased.

“Well, that," Steve replied. "But is also means we’re alone in the apartment for a while." Eddie grinned and took Steve by the hand. 

“I like the way you think.”

They ran to Steve’s room together, and if the confession of love hadn’t already changed everything, sleeping together certainly did.

It was the good kind of change, though. The kind that moved mountains and cleared all the clouds from the sky. 

At last, the idiots were together. All it took was years of denial and one payment of $44.49.

----------------------

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[toasty-melons]

Uhm idk if your request are open so i Hope im not bothering you (also Sorry if my english isnt perfect ) i wanted to ask what about maybe ellie x fem!reader where they're Just Friends and ellie Is stressed out cause She doesnt know if Reader likes her back or not so dina being a good friend ( and Sick of ellie complaining about this situation) sets up a truth or dare night with ellie , dina , Jesse and reader and dina dares ellie to kiss reader and tell her how She feels and yk going on like this( its ok if you dont like this or dont want to do It <3)

You guys could never bother me!!! And I actually really love this request! I adore the friends to lovers trope so this is perfect! Also you’re english is really good so no worries, lovely! <3

TW: cursing, mentions of alcohol

I got kind of carried away but i really loved how it turned out, i hope you like it darling!

If you see any grammar errors ignore them pls :)

Just to kiss you

Ellie Williams x Reader

Ellie Williams has never, ever had trouble with the women she had an interest in. She always knew the perfect words to woo a women until they were buckling in the knees and falling to her feet. But you, oh god. You were her biggest weakness. You were so sweet and kind, and so fucking pretty.

So pretty that she usually had to pinch herself to get her stop staring at you.

So kind with the way you spoke to her, always asking if she’s okay and how her day was.

So sweet that you always put your friends first and were always doing nice things for them.

Like right now for example, you had invited her and Dina out to lunch, which you so kindly offered to pay for too. Dina, a sucker for free food, and Ellie, jumping at the chance to spend time with you.

The sun was warm on her skin, but when you had started laughing at one of Ellie’s stupid jokes, she felt like her whole body had lit on fire. God, you were so pretty. Ellie comes back down to Earth when she feels Dina playfully kick her under the table and give her a knowing look. Causing her face to slowly redden at the fact she had been caught being mesmerized by you.. again.

And what Dina does next would cause Ellie to practically combust with nervousness.

“So y/n..” Dina’s voice was cocky and made the hair on the back of Ellie’s neck stand up. You give Dina your full, undivided attention, smiling at her sweetly to let her know you’re listening. “Me, Ellie, and Jesse are hanging out at my place tonight, you wanna go?” Dina glances at Ellie, and her smug smile on grows at the slightly horrified look plastered on her face.

You’re lack of hesitation has Ellie melting in her seat. The way your eyes light up and your smile brightens as you vigorously nod your head yes.

“Yes! I would love too.” You look over at Ellie with that big smile on your face and Ellie can’t help the smile taking over on her own face. Your phone pings and when you check it, a pout of disappointment settles on your pretty lips. You look up at the two girls and your voice is laced with sadness. “I have to go guys, my boss asked me to come in early. But this was so much fun. I’ll see you guys later.” As you’re grabbing your things Dina is telling you when to be at her place and thanking you for lunch. You, of course, say it’s ‘no problem at all’. Dina gives Ellie a glance and motions her head at you, giving her the signal that it’s her turn to thank you.

Ellie quickly rushes to her feet as you’re coming around the table towards her. You reach out to her with open arms and Ellie gladly welcomes your embrace. You squeeze her tight as you usually do, and the way your perfume takes over Ellie’s senses has her knees buckling. “Thank you, y/n.” You giggle and she feels her heart melt at the pretty sound. You whisper back a ‘anytime, Els.’

Once you’re gone Ellie plops back down into her seat and Dina is looking at her with a smug smile and a snark comment already on the tip of her tongue. “Dude.” Ellie can tell by her tone that she’s gonna be relentless. “When, are you guys going to get together?” Ellie’s gaze finally tears away from the seat you had been sitting and glares daggers over at Dina.

“Well let’s see. Probably never. Because she doesn’t like me.” Ellie leans over and places her forehead on the table in defeat. A sad sigh escaping her lips, causing Dina to gently pat her on the back.

“I guess we’ll just have to see.” Ellie can practically hear the evil grin in Dina’s voice and Ellie can only pray that things go perfect tonight.

Ellie’s leg is bouncing as she sits in the middle of Dina’s couch next to Jesse. He nudges her leg with his knee and she breaks eye contact with the wall to look over at him. “You need to chill.” Ellie scoffs at this and rolls her eyes, now focusing on Dina who walks towards her with three beers balanced in her hands. Ellie gladly snatches the alcohol from her hands and not even a moment later is taking a swig.

You would be here any minute now. Ellie can feel her body start to warm up from the drink and it relaxes her a bit. A soft knock at the door has her whipping her head towards it and climbing over the back of the couch to rush over. Jesse scoff as Ellie’s alcohol is accidentally spilled on him, but chooses not to say anything other than a mumbled, ‘chill out.’

Ellie swings the door open and you’re standing there looking slightly up at her with your pretty eyes and a sweet smile gracing your lips.

“Hi.” It’s the only words Ellie can think of. She internally kicks herself for being awkward again. But the way your smile grows and your eyes slightly crinkle makes her stomach flip.

“Hi.” Your voice is sickly sweet and so soft on Ellie’s ears. Ellie finally takes a step back so that you can come in. As you walk past her to greet Dina and Jesse, your perfume washes over Ellie and she has to bite the inside of her lip to keep from audibly moaning and embarrassing herself.

Two hours and beers later has you and Ellie laughing your asses off at anything and everything. Ellie is relaxed so much that she’s able to talk to you with crumbling and placing little touches on your arm and leg without combusting. Of course Jesse and Dina are all too aware of what’s happening, which is what causes the slightly tipsy Dina to start a game of truth or dare.

After silly truths like ‘describe your first kiss,’ or ‘what’s the worst date you’ve ever been on,’ and stupid dares like ‘prank call your ex,’ or ‘swap clothes with the person next to you,’ it’s finally Dina’s turn again. The look in her eyes has Ellie practically shaking with nerves.

You’re all too unaware of it, not tipsy but bordering on the edge. You’re giggling at the way Jesse has been tugging on your shorts he was dared to wear. The way his clothes hang off your body has Ellie screaming internally, wishing that it was her clothes instead.

“Ellie.. truth or dare?.” Dina’s voice is laced with a smugness and Ellie knows no matter what she picks, it won’t be good. You perk up and point at her accusingly, excitedly announcing to the room that, ‘Ellie hasn’t done a dare yet.’ Dina grins wickedly and leans back into the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. “I dare you to kiss y/n.” The rooms falls silent as Dina’s words settle over. A tension slowly rising between everyone.

When Ellie glances over at you, she surprised to find your face completely flushed red and your wide eyes staring back at her. You glance down at her lips and it has Ellie practically foaming at the mouth. Before anyone can say anything the silence is broken by a phone ringing. Jesses curses under his breath and grabs the phone hopping up. How convenient.

“Shit. It’s my work, I gotta answer this.” He bails out of the room and after a few more moments of tense and awkward silence Dina stands up.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” She leaves the room just as quickly as Jesse did and now it’s just Ellie and you. You and Ellie. Alone. When Ellie looks back over at you you’re not looking anymore and her heart sinks a bit. Not being able to stand the pressure anymore, Ellie stands up next and she feel your eyes on her again.

“I’m gonna.. get some fresh air.” Her voice is mumbled as she rushes out the side door that leads to Dina’s private patio. It’s small but it’s decorated in lights and plants that has a really warm and homey feeling to it. Ellie takes a seat in one of the chairs and places her head in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. Her heart hurts, she had her chance and she blew it. And for a moment, just a moment, Ellie thought you actually wanted to kiss her and it felt so euphoric.

The sound of the side door opening again has Ellie’s head popping up. She’s surprised to find you sitting down quietly next to her. You don’t look at her, not at first. No, at first you fiddle with your fingers, a nervous habit Ellie noticed you had. You thought you looked so silly right now, hell you felt ridiculous still drowning in Jesse’s clothes.

Neither of you say anything for a while, just allowing the silence to embrace both of you. You shift and Ellie glances at you again, and finds you finally looking at her. You break the silence first, clearing your throat quietly. Before you can say anything Ellie groans and rubs her hands over her face, “Fucking Dina.. always causing trouble.” This makes you giggle.

“She has good intentions.. just awful ways to show them.” At this Ellie gives you a sad chuckle. It makes your heart clench and your brows furrow.

“Kissing me would be awful, huh?” Your eyes widen at the realization and you shake your head frantically.

Ellie watches as your face reddens, a look of fear on your face, so scared that you had offended her. “Oh. No, no, no. It wouldn’t be awful it would be amazing- I mean.. oh gosh.” You cover your face and laugh awkwardly at yourself. Ellie is silent, still hanging onto a thread of hope.

“Ellie.. You’re one of my best friends. I really don’t wanna mess up what we have, but..” You uncover your face and chew on your bottom lip.

“But?” Ellie’s voice is so small, so full of hope that it makes you smile shyly.

“But.. I really really like you Els. And know you don’t like me back and i’m sorry if i’ve ever made you uncomfortable with my flirting, but today with the Dina and the dare to kiss me..” Ellie is stunned at your confession. She honestly feels like she’s dreaming. You like her? And you’ve flirted with her? How could she have not noticed?

“Can I kiss you? Not for the dare.. just to kiss you.” You peer up at her through your eyelashes, face full of nerves. You hesitate but you nod. Ellie leans in slowly, so close to your lips but not quite touching.

“Ellie Williams if this is a joke.. it’s the worst one you’ve ever had.” At your whispered words Ellie chuckles softly. Her lips are on yours not a moment later. The kiss isn’t sweet or soft like Ellie expected it to be. Instead your hands are tangled in her hair tugging her closer. Ellie’s hands find your waist to pull you onto her lap. Her fingers rubbing up your hips and thighs. She feels your breath tremble into the kiss and she pulls away.

“Too much?” You breathily laugh at her question and shake your head, placing sweet kisses along her jaw. Ellie is melting into your touch with the way your hands are sliding around down her neck and chest. You mumble a soft, ‘not enough,’ that has Ellie going feral.

Before Ellie can ravish your lips once again the sound of the side door slamming open has both of you looking over, frozen in place with widen eyes. Dina is standing in the doorway, jaw dropped and stunned.

“Oh.. my.. god..” You’re scrambling out of Ellie’s lap, standing up and shyly looking down. A grin is plastered on Ellie’s face and she can’t tear her gaze away from your shy one. “You guys we’re gonna fuck on my patio.” Ellie watches as you tense up at Dina’s accusation and shake your head waving your hands around you frantically.

You stumble over to Dina and grab her hands in yours. “Dinaaaa.” Your voice is whiney and it causes something deep to stir within Ellie. She can only watch as Dina teases you playfully and you protest with more whines of embarrassment.

“Y/n.” You’re whipping your head back at Ellie when she calls for you. Dina takes the hint and bails once again, shutting the door behind her.

“Yeah?” Ellie reaches out, grabbing your hand and pulling you down onto her lap once again. No other words are spoken as she pulls your lips back onto yours. This time the kiss being much softer than before, a vulnerableness laced into it. “Els.. i love you.”

“Fuck.. you have no idea how much i’m in love with you.”

[cuubism]

would you be ok elaborating on the hob/death post? I already adore Hob and death friendship arcs and Hob/death as a concept and I would LOVE to hear more <3

*cracks knuckles* so--

there are actually two separate AUs. the canonverse one, and the human AU one.

i pitched the canonverse one to @magnusbae thus:

extremely funny au where hob and death have been casually hooking up since 1389 and dream finally confesses his feelings in like 2050 and hob's like ah. should i stop hooking up with your sister then? and dream's like should you stop doing WHAT?

basically. in the six billion years it takes dream to get his shit together and admit to his own feelings for hob, hob and death have just been having loads of no-strings-attached sexy fun in the background (death: you snooze, you lose, dream! *sticks tongue out*)

dream is very perturbed by this, he's like hello that's MY toy?? give it BACK???? I HAD IT FIRST!!!!!!!!!

(we don't headcanon hob and death actually dating, by the way. they're just pals who hook up sometimes. they're very chill about it. dream is the only one who's not chill about it because he wants All Of Hob's Attention All The Time NOW)

tldr:

The human AU version:

Hob and Death are roommates/friends/fuckbuddies who have this lowkey open relationship thing going on. they're having a great time in their casual but well-communicated healthy relationship.

enter Dream, least well-adjusted person on the planet, also Death's younger brother, who's staying with her for a while. and as soon as Dream arrives Death has to watch her formerly reasonable friend Hob disintegrate into a haze of utter Simp Behavior and insanity, and she's like oh boy. this is gonna get interesting.

meanwhile Dream is like handsome... guy... being nice... to me... 😳 *falling down the stairs*

Hob is into him so fast it's embarrassing and eventually Death yanks him aside and just gives him a look. And so like the mature adults they are they do talk about it and Death is like, dude, we aren't dating, you can do whatever you want. Besides, I'd rather have my brother be with someone I actually know and like rather than his other disastrous relationships (though Death is swiftly learning that Hob is much more unhinged than she'd previously thought. Dream brings all of it out in him). So Hob's like cool I'll flirt with your brother

NO ONE TELLS DREAM ABOUT IT

Dream is under the impression that Hob and Death are actually dating. So the more Hob flirts with him the more Dream is like 👀🤔 and he's kind of in love with Hob because ohh Hob is so kind and handsome and he listens to everything Dream says and he's so charming... but he also kind of hates Hob because how dare he cheat on Death and how dare he make Dream want him like that?

Death: so are you and Hob getting along well?

Dream: no. I hope Hob falls off a cliff and dies.

Death:.... alright thanks for the input

But Dream does just keep indulging his worse impulses and one day he just finds himself sitting in Hob's lap on the couch in Death's apartment while Hob listens to him talk and he's just like: oh my god I'm a homewrecker

Dream, later: Sister. Your shitty boyfriend is cheating on you

Death: ....did it actually take Hob this long to ask you out? we talked about it ages ago

Dream: ...

TLDR:

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner. 

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode. 

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time. 

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises. 

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark. 

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world. 

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right? 

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me. 

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life." 

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does. 

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed. 

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance. 

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans. 

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force. 

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are. 

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin. 

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips. 

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile. 

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him. 

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way. 

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically. 

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O 

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (170-172)

Holden Chase again, a few proposals in the making, and the end of a season.

If you'd like to follow along you can do so here.

170. Lessons Learned

The Bruins are coming to town, and to say Bryce is prepared might be an understatement.

Boy’s had Eye of the Tiger running through his head every time he’s hitting a punching bag (and he’s been hitting them a suspicious amount)

It isn’t even the first time they’ve played the Bruins since Jared got blindsided at TD Garden, but Bryce was thousands of kilometres away, so he couldn’t do anything stupid.

Well, unless Jared counts probably egging Dmitry on

No probably about it.

“Don’t do something stupid,” Jared says.

“Everybody keeps telling me that,” Bryce complains.

“Because they know you’re going to do something stupid,” Jared says.

But you don’t understand, J, he wants to do the stupid thing.

“I won’t start it,” Bryce says. “Okay? I’m not making any other promises. If he starts it, that’s on him.”

“Fine,” Jared allows, because he’s pretty sure that’s the best offer he’s going to get.

Little does Jared know Bryce considers ‘having the audacity to share the ice with me’ to be starting it.

“Define pissy for me, Dmitry,” Jared says.

“I think he made Landon cry,” Dmitry says.

His eyes just got a little misty. Must be hay fever or something.

Jared kicks his sneaker.

“What?” Bryce snaps, not looking up.

“Fighting me for my honour seems counterproductive,” Jared says.

Everyone cleared the fuck out the second Jared entered that room. Bullet's mood was bad enough, no way they want to witness this.

“Dmitry said you’re making dudes cry,” Jared says.

“Dima exaggerates,” Bryce says, which is true, but he looks guilty as he says it.

Only his allergies, don’t worry about it!

“If you’re a dick that means I have to be the nice one,” Jared says. “And I’m categorically terrible at that, so quit it.”

Jared’s priorities, everyone.

“You’re nice—“

Jared kicks his foot, and Bryce scowls up at him.

“No I’m not,” Jared says.

Don’t you lie to him, he’ll kick you while you’re down just to prove you wrong.

There’s only so much distance the guys on either side of his stall can give him, so instead they look longsuffering as Bryce bounces his knee, pendant between his lips.

This is big Holden Chase energy. Bryce would hate that.

He was hoping Chase would be smart enough to steer clear of Bryce, considering it’s public knowledge who he’s married to, but either he doesn’t remember the blindside hit — to be fair, he does throw a lot of them — or he doesn’t give a shit, which wouldn’t surprise Jared either.

There is a third option, but frankly Holden would prefer you thinking it’s one of those two.

“Bullet won,” Dmitry says proudly.

“Nobody won,” Jared says. “Nobody wins in a game of head trauma.”

Jared will have you know he is unimpressed.

But honestly, Chase probably could have said ‘nice day, isn’t it?’ and it would have lead to a fight, so he wouldn’t be surprised either.

How dare you say that when you know FULL well it was overcast and drizzling.

“You’re very pretty,” Dmitry says. “Women would kill for your eyelashes.”

“You just said that,” Jared says.

“Beware of Oksana,” Dmitry says, shaking his shoulder for emphasis.

He just rolls out of bed looking like that? His looks are WASTED on him, says Oksana.

“Why is Dmitry repeatedly warning me about his wife?” Jared asks Gabe, during a TV break Dmitry spends exchanging insults and obscenities with the Bruins bench — they play each other twice a year, so Jared doesn’t know that kind of animosity builds, except of course he does, because it’s Dmitry.

It will surprise no one that Shithead is involved in this.

“He was trying to distract you from stewing about the fight,” Gabe says. “And succeeding, I might add.”

“Oh,” Jared says. Being handled by Dmitry Kurmazov is a new low for him, he thinks.

He handles you all the time, you just don’t realise it. Which has to be a lower low.

The period expires before Bryce’s misconduct does, and Bryce skates across the ice, marching straight down the tunnel. If Jared hoped time in the box would cool him off, well — he wasn’t, really, considering every time he looked over Bryce was yelling shit at the opposite box, poor Jan sitting mute beside him, serving the additional two.

Jan deserves a drink or ten for that time in the box. Take it out of all the fines Bryce and Jared have recently paid.

“I’m not sorry,” Bryce says. He sounds as petulant as Jared’s ever heard him, and that’s saying something. “J’s off limits.”

Bryce was expecting Stevie or Gabe, here. Though it’s not like he’s saying anything Jared doesn’t know.

Bryce has a split lip, which really completes the surly teenager pout. He winces when Jared’s fingers brush his mouth, but doesn’t pull away, not then, and not when Jared kisses him.

“That’s not positive reinforcement,” Jared says, when he pulls away.

You can’t just say that and make it true, Jared.

Jared doesn’t know if it’s game management, the refs figuring the best place for Chase to be is the box for both team’s sakes, or the fact that Chase is just a fucking idiot who doesn’t know when to quit, but he takes two more penalties that night, spends more time in the box than he does on the ice with either of them.

Hey! Holden will have you know he’s a driven individual...who doesn’t know when to quit.

The Canucks handily take the game — Chase’s penalties don’t hurt — and normally they’d join the team for a drink or two to celebrate the win, but Jared isn’t in the mood, and Bryce frankly doesn’t deserve it.

He says this like he isn’t about to positively reinforce Bryce some more.

“This is not a reward,” Jared tells him, once they get in their front door.

“Okay,” Bryce says. He sounds distracted, which Jared supposes isn’t surprising, considering Jared’s currently unbuckling his belt.

“I don’t approve of any of your behaviour tonight,” Jared says.

He’s getting some mixed messages right now, but that’s okay, carry on, Jared.

“You want to lecture me or you want to get your dick sucked?” Bryce asks.

“I can do both,” Jared says.

“Fair enough,” Bryce says, moving to drop to his knees.

Go right ahead, Bryce is game.

171. All In

and whenever Bryce is happy, Jared can’t keep from joining in.

These two are like a feedback loop. Bryce Happy = Jared Happy = Bryce Happy…

“Can’t give people shit to say about me,” Bryce says.

“That implies they’ve actually shut up since Julius’ interview,” Jared says. He still refuses to look, on principle, but by all accounts it hasn’t died down yet.

“Okay, yeah,” Bryce says. “But if I came back and sucked they’d probably say it was because I was gay. Like, let my sexuality become a distraction, or whatever the fuck.”

Don’t know about you, but I can’t wait for the first out NHLer to inevitably get a streak of bad play blamed on the 'distraction' of their sexuality.

“Like, not more hockey media, or, kind of hockey but more like, a profile thing? How it was growing up gay in hockey, that kind of thing,” Bryce says. He looks weirdly nervous, especially for someone who’s done more media in the past few months than he likely did his entire tenure with the Flames.

Jared frowns. “Is PR Grace pushing for more interviews? I thought she was supposed to chill when you got off IR.”

“No, I was just — I was talking to Summers, and he was saying the fact people want to talk to me right now gives me a chance to establish myself as like, I am now,” Bryce says. “Kind of like — not set the record straight, exactly, but like, show I’ve matured and stuff. That I’m not the dude I was when I met you.”

Bryce isn’t lying but he is obfuscating. Still in the planning stages, still not ready to tell Jared.

He’s less magnanimous about it when Bryce’s apologetic ‘I have media’ keeps fucking with their carpooling; more often than not he’s got to head in early, or cut out straight from practice and leave Gabe to drop Jared off. Gabe’s way more chill about it than Jared is, which is frustrating, because Bryce has very much noticed that, and when he points it out it makes Jared look petty.

Does it, Jared? Does it make you look petty?

“What you and Stephen find annoying doesn’t impact my behaviour,” Gabe says, pulling out his e-reader. “You two are irritated by so many things that I’d never be able to keep any of it straight.”

The list that would be.

“You look like your kid right now,” Jared says. He lost a tooth the last time Bryce babysat the Kurmazovs. Literally. It was a whole thing. Bryce sent Jared at least half a dozen frantic texts before they found in the pantry for fuck knows what reason. Bryce’s theory is aliens. Jared’s is the much simpler explanation that Bryce is being fucked with by small children.

He put it somewhere he wouldn’t forget about it (beside the cookies) and then he promptly, you know. Forgot the place he swore he wouldn’t forget about. No aliens or practical jokes required.

“See, I told you he’s not just pissy when Bullet isn’t around,” drifts over to him.

Jared’s not sure who said it, but he’ll find out.

“I heard that,” he says, and waits for a flinch.

“Math,” Gabe says, not looking up from his e-reader. “Stop terrorizing the rookies.”

I’m so proud of Jared’s growth from ‘non-participant’ to ‘terrorizer of rookies’.

“I see you,” Jared says, then, “Ow,” when Gabe elbows him.

“I’m trying to read,” Gabe says.

Jared pulls his phone out. “I’m trying to read too.”

“Good,” Gabe says.

“Good,” Jared says.

The patience Gabe has.

Jared’s thoroughly sick of his teammates when they get back to Vancouver. Bryce apparently isn’t, considering he’s at Gavin’s fighting for Smash Bros supremacy, while Jared crawls under the bet blanket on the couch and refuses to surface for anything. Which is unfortunate, because he’s hungry now, but he’s committed.

Extrovert after road trip vs introvert after road trip.

Jared’s checking in on how the Hitmen are doing when Raf sends Jared a picture of a diamond ring, with no context. Jared’s still processing it when Chaz sends him a text saying do u think ash would marry me?

She literally had your baby. Jared replies. He wonders if Raf sent Chaz the photo too, and that’s what sparked it, or if they’ve got some kind of hivemind going on in the Eastern Conference.

Hivemind.

But actually, baby 2 on the way in the case of the Guerin Rossis, and approaching offseason in the case of the Sanchez Dawes household, accompanied by a lot of recent wedding invites that got Raf’s brain humming.

“Hello,” Raf says. He doesn’t sound like he’s panicking, but then, Jared’s never heard him panic before, so how would he know?

“Are you panicking?” Jared asks.

“I wouldn’t describe this feeling as panic, exactly,” Raf says.

Big time panicking happening.

“Well,” Raf says. “Do you think Grace would marry me?”

“I think she moved to an entirely different country to be with you,” Jared says.

Raf’s quiet. “Is that yes?”

Jared just tell them yes, they don't want to hear logic, they want to hear yes.

“And I mean, have we even been together long enough to consider marriage?” Raf asks.

Considering Raf was already dating Grace when IJ(aoe) began…yes, Raf.

It takes awhile to convince Raf that he’s not about to get turned down, even after Raf admits he and Grace have literally discussed marriage like, half a dozen times, and the only thing that’s going to come as a surprise to her is the time and place.

Of course Raf would never propose without serious discussions taking place first.

You’re not allowed to propose to my sister any time soon, Jared texts after he gets off the phone with Raf.

I do not require your approval., Julius replies,

Could have told him about the not planning on it right then, but it was too good an opportunity not to take. Also facts.

Julius snorts. “I am not planning on proposing to your sister.”

“Why, what’s wrong with her?” Jared says. “I mean, I know exactly what’s wrong with her, but—”

“You just told me not to!” Julius says. “And there is nothing wrong with her!”

This conversation is just constant mixed messaging on both sides.

What’s wrong with Julius? Jared says.

Nothing is wrong with Julius. He doesn’t believe in marriage either

It seems that Julius is screening his calls now too. Typical.

Why is no one willing to listen to Jared’s pro-marriage propaganda.

“Everyone’s getting married,” Julius says. “Except my sister. She’s too young.”

“She doesn’t believe in marriage,” Bryce says.

“Why do you know that?” Jared says.

Because Bryce isn’t demanding she marry his former liney, right after forbidding said liney from marrying her. (Seriously, the messages could not be more mixed)

“I should probably call him,” Jared says. “Make sure he doesn’t hide it somewhere stupid like the sock drawer.”

“Hey!” Bryce says. “It wasn’t stupid.”

“Maybe not in our case,” Jared says. “Considering you were looking to get caught.”

Bryce blinks at him, then belatedly says, “Huh. I was, wasn’t I?”

Not consciously, but absolutely.

“Pretty well,” Jared agrees. “There’s a pizza with mushrooms in the kitchen.”

“You hate mushrooms,” Bryce beams.

It’s very easy for Jared to do nice things for Bryce considering when Bryce notices (and he always notices) he lights right up. Palpable reward for good behaviour.

172. Responsibility

he does suspect his next contract might be longer term, likely as a concession to Bryce.

Not to diminish Jared as a player, but yes, as a concession to Bryce. He’s an RFA with limited bargaining rights, it likely would have been in the 1-2 year ‘show me’ range, ending while they still had his rights. Instead the contract he gets takes him right into free-agency. (Term’s long for middle sixer, but price is fair value)

They lose their final game to the Oilers playing spoiler, and Jared only has time for a hug and a blanket hand-off before Julius is wheels up, on his way back to Edmonton for his own final game.

Season’s blanket tally: Julius: 3, Jared: 1. Embarrassing considering their respective place in the standings, but Jared made the mistake of motivating Julius Halla.

Jared would prefer something a little more chill than the trays of shots going around, people screaming to one another over the music, but he knows it’s what the majority wants, and he’s fine sitting in a corner with Gabe and Stephen, sharing judgmental looks as everyone else makes fools of themselves. Well, sharing judgmental looks with Stephen. Gabe just looks on indulgently.

Look at Jared contentedly sitting with the marrieds, sharing mean telepathic comments with Stephen. He’s having fun.

It takes a couple more rounds, along with Gabe and Stephen abandoning him with some excuse about being ‘old and tired’ (Gabe) and ‘not old or tired, thank you, but I do have work tomorrow’ (Stephen)

Fair (Gabe), and lie (Stephen.) Stephen does have work tomorrow. He’s also getting sleepy.

“It was a competition,” Bryce says. “And I lost.”

“Or maybe you won?” Jared asks. “By not drinking more? Maybe that was the real way to win?”

Bryce considers this seriously for a moment, then shakes his head. “No.”

Bryce really mulling over whether that’s the point of drinking contests for a minute, he lost so badly.

“Alright, time to head home then, loser,” Jared says.

Two of the younger players give Jared absolutely scandalized looks. Kids these days have such delicate sensibilities.

“I meant it affectionately,” Jared says.

“I know you did, babe,” Bryce says. “It’s like, your love language.”

Jared’s love language: snark

Bryce’s love language: all of them

Actual love languages though: physical touch and/or quality time(Jared) and seriously, all of them (Bryce), but gift giving probably edges the rest out.

Bryce slumps into Jared in the Uber, and Jared wraps an arm around him, making supportive noises while Bryce mumbles to him about how he thinks Oksana might have a hollow leg.

“Maybe she stores it all in those five inch heels she wears,” Jared says.

Oksana is 5’4”. Her husband is 6’2”. She needs the damn heels or she’ll get a crick in her neck.

Her leg may or may not be hollow.

“Okay, okay, you’re a heavyweight,” Jared says.

“Thank you,” Bryce says, then slumps right back into him, and Jared fights a smile, wrapping his arm around him as they drive into the ink dark night.

“Super heavyweight,” Bryce murmurs.

In amateur boxing, Bryce, at 205 lbs, would be a super heavyweight (200+). Yes, he did fall into a rabbit hole about boxing one night many years ago when he was supposed to be doing a project for school. No, the project did not get turned in on time. Yes, he still does know random facts he learned that night. No, none of them have actually been relevant until right this moment.

Jared’s so fucking sick of the Kansas City Scouts.

It’s you!! It’s always you!!

Think how heated the blanket war’s going to be when Julius is in KC.

Jared shaves his still patchy beard, taking his time. The last thing he needs is to show up to media day nicked up because he was in too shitty a mood to do it right. He looks better after he does it, but his face feels naked, wrong. He hates the playoff beard tradition — even if he could pull it off, and he definitely can’t, shaving it off feels like the worst kind of penance, forced to look in the mirror when the last thing anyone wants to do is look themselves in the eye.

Seriously though. ‘Here is a tradition where if you lose, you have to look at yourself in the mirror and shave away the physical embodiment of your hopes and dreams’. Absolutely brutal, hockey.

“What are you doing?” Bryce says when Jared pulls the covers back. “No, stop.”

He thinks Jared is about to try to get him out of bed. If he knew cuddling was coming he’d be fine with this.

“Hey,” Jared says, nudging his knee against Bryce’s under the covers.

“You want to talk about it?” Bryce asks.

“Not really,” Jared says.

“Thank fuck,” Bryce says, then buries his face in Jared’s neck, curling into him while Jared strokes a hand through his hair.

Physical touch and quality time, baby.

“Want to go sulk in the sulking room?” Jared asks.

“Stop calling it that,” Bryce says. Jared would like to note that is not a no.

I was informed by a reader that the word boudoir is from bouder (to pout/sulk), so it literally translates into ‘a place to sulk’, or ‘sulking room’. Which is incredible. Bryce’s boudoir, everybody.

“Been a hell of a year, huh?” Brian says.

“You could say that, yeah,” Jared says.

“Good one, though,” Brian says. “Shit, I meant a good one for the Canucks, not necessarily — obviously Bryce being injured, and you and Bryce having to come out was—“

“It was a good one,” Jared interrupts.

Jared would not typically interrupt his boss, but Brian sometimes wears this look on his face like ‘please stop me the words keep coming’, and Jared will do so if he sees it. He knew what Brian meant.

“I want you to keep doing what you’re doing,” Brian says. “I mean, on the ice, not — obviously keep doing what you’re doing off the ice if you want to, it’s just none of my business. I mean technically — I’m going to sip my coffee for a moment, excuse me.”

Sometimes Brian stops himself, though.

“It’s a bit unorthodox to be telling another player before — but you’re his husband, and after the year he’s had I don’t want to —“

Brian really doesn’t want to add to Bryce’s load. Everyone seems to think Bryce would want it (Team leadership, coaching staff), but Brian figures it doesn’t hurt to check one last time with the person who’d know best.

Jared’s barely put the groceries away when Bryce texts him saying he’s on his way back. To be fair, that included clearing the fridge and pantry of everything expired, because otherwise their new groceries weren’t all going to fit, and also finding then rescuing the pucks from under the sink, where Bryce must have put them at the height of the sulk.

Stupid pucks. Who cares. Game-winners didn’t win the SERIES, do they.

Jared sits on the couch and waits for Bryce, trying to look casual. Fidgets with the remote, though he’s turned the TV off — having it on distracted him from his casual pose. Jared considers that maybe staring fixedly at a blank TV isn’t actually casual, but then it’s too late, because over the completely silent TV he can hear a key in the lock.

I still can’t believe this dude thought he would be able to pretend he wasn’t married to Bryce.

“They’re giving me an A!” Bryce calls the second he opens the door. “J!”

“What?” Jared says, and puts the remote down, standing up. “Really?”

“Brian told me he talked to you about it, you don’t have to pretend to be surprised,” Bryce says.

It was an absolutely pitiful attempt at ignorance. Somehow Jared had an accent?

Also I love that every time Bryce has good news he rushes to tell Jared. It's not real until Jared knows.

“I know,” Jared says. He really should, though. The receipt’s the length of his arm, and they’ll probably have to leave a bunch of it at Elaine’s, it was so excessive. “I’m really proud of you. You deserve it.”

Jared is NOT a words of affirmation person, and this is honestly huge from him? Saying that without any jokes or backsliding or anything, just that he’s proud of him.

Bryce somehow gets even more radiant. Jared didn’t think that was possible. “Brian said I was a glue guy.”

“You are a glue guy,” Jared says.

From locker room cancer to glue guy. I’m so proud of him.

“Not a thing people used to call me,” Bryce says. “Not a thing I used to be, though, so that’s fair.”

Jared would protest, but it’s not like Bryce is lying. “You weren’t in the right place yet.”

He’s come so far, truly. Got a bit misty writing this scene due to just how far Bryce has come.

[itsyagurlchip]

gimme some hc from your au's horror sans-

ekkkk

k so

In this fic his brother wont be there for a chapter or 5

not really sure why yet but im coming up with something

so naturally he threatens reader about it until he realizes and understands that papyrus never came thru the machine with him.

so he disassociates

he starves himself

if his brother is still in a bad place, then he shall suffer as well.

i think of horror of the quiet kid in the back of the class who fsr always has snacks and never gets caught

his speech is verbally patchy. like, its spaced out as if he has to think about each word he says before saying it.

but, the more comfortable he is, the more he'll try to talk.

he may not be able to show it verbally, but bro is super smart.

while he is interested in stars, he absolutely loves gardening and botany

so if/when he gets a garden he tells reader how to grow really nice shi for no reason at all

on really bad says he'll sit outside in bare gardening dirt (its actually really nice, ive done this once or twice myself) and just bathe in the sun for the rest of the afternoon

since he has a garden, his response is to never let those plump and beautiful veggies go to waste

so he uses them in dinners!

especially when he figured out that okra grows really well in the sun-

one of his favorite things to grow are fruit bearing trees and strawberries.

since i want the fic to have a timeline of at least 3 years, reader gifts axe an apple tree from a plant store they found

speaking of, you guys go plant shopping a lot!

you think about re-shaping the backyard together a lot so the crew can spend more time outside

and with him around renovations are quick to do, even when it gets a bit expensive.

other times you guys will buy small succulents and saplings to put around the house, hoping and praying that the others wont trash them before they grow beautifully.

i head cannon axe to always have some kind of snack in his pockets.

bare chips, skittles he forgot to eat weeks ago, or even a whole ass sandwich in a ziplock which is absolutely funny to me

but his left pockets are where the best snacks are

because he remembers that side the most, and therefore restocks it more often.

other times he'll take you to the corner store if you're feeling the munchies and he doesn't have the snack you want

and if you try to pay, his bills are already on the counter by the time you even think of it.

bro doesn't care what food combos there are, axe will try to eat just about anything

which means you mix shi up like you would at school and dare him to eat it.

and he does, straight face and everything. bro would prolly lick his teeth after too 💀

he plays lil pranks on you, as its natural in his sansnicticityism, so you'll find spicy Mexican candies in random places of your room

other times he'll fuck around and shift some parts of your bedroom to see if youd noticed

aight, imma say it. dudes a touch starved cuddle bug. and if you show him affection with food?

whew boy

good luck getting rid of that man

since you're a child, he'll try to be more careful in terms of his strength.

call him uncle? call him peepaw? even as a joke, he is gonna savor that until the end of time.

he helps you with panic attacks often, hence the almost nightly cuddles

and the more and more you spend time with that old bag if bones, the more you fill in those cracked piece of his soul.

infact, he'd prolly admit that a silly and grump teenager was just what he needed❤️

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING THIS!!! THIS SPARKED SO MUCH INSPO FOR MEE!!! IM SO FREAKIN HAPPY RN 💕💕💕 LOVE YOU VEE ❤️

@kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @amorvincitomnia-14 @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r. if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[flo55i]

Maxiel. 2k. Max as the Grim Reaper. Daniel as the lost soul he’s ferrying to Heaven. Because there are some things you shouldn’t have to do alone. tw: death but it’s as fluffy as I get, promise. And also possibly tw; blasphemy?

Daniel wakes up in the same clothes he died in.  He laughs at the irony of the phrase, ‘wouldn’t be caught dead in’, never believing it would apply to him. The only reason he wore the faded red track-pants out of the house was to collect the bins with. Now they look a deep purple colour in the dark swirly mist thing that the afterlife apparently has going for it.

Suddenly realising he’s dead, Daniel puts his hands in his pockets just to make sure he still has control of all his limbs and is distracted by the fact his phone isn’t in them. It makes sense. But like. He can’t remember the last time he was without it. It was definitely there when he— Quickly, Daniel pulls the elastic band around the waist of his pants back and checks his dick is still there. 

“Thank God.” He mutters to himself. 

“God? Like that idiot has got anything to do with this.” Says a curt and surly voice from behind him.

Daniel swivels and comes face to face with Death. Or at least he thinks it is. The long swirling black cloak and the huge scythe that is taller than he is, is a dead giveaway. Literally. Immediately Daniel’s first instinct is to run, but as soon as he takes off in one direction, there’s a snap of fingers and he’s right back where he started from. 

“Was that fun?” The guy says, scowling down at Daniel from where he landed at his feet. At the sarcasm, Daniel takes his hands off his head and dares to finally open his eyes. He thinks he’s more startled to find that Death has sneakers on than the fact that he’s still alive— Daniel places a hand on his chest, checking— still breathing. Whatever he is. He doesn’t know if he’s technically dead or is he in some kind of Limbo? He looks around. It looks like it could be the land in between heaven and hell. What with the dark clouds and the horizon of agonising nothingness and—

“I can do this all day you know.” The guy says, interrupting Daniel’s freak out by tapping his scythe impatiently on the ground. Then uncrossing his arm, muttering to himself he adds, “Not like I’m busy or anything.” 

Slowly getting to his feet and brushing off the mist still clinging to his bare chest, Daniel asks, “You’re not like, going to reap me and shit are you?”

Death rolls his eyes. “What is it that you think I am going to do? You are already dead!”

The hood falls back off his face as he raises his hands in exasperation and Daniel can see this guy is younger than him, and pretty much human too. At least he is from the outside. He doesn’t look very menacing. Especially with those pouty lips and bright blue eyes. Angel, yes. Evil, no. 

If he really is dead like this guy says, Daniel was kinda expecting a scary skeleton type-a-thing, like how they showed in movies and comic books and stuff. No soul, no eyes. This guy looks anything but evil incarnated, what with the way he’s just waving his scythe around all over the place like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Maybe Daniel got the defective grim reaper or something?

“I mean, I’m not telling you how to do your job or anything.” Daniel starts, trying to be nice. By the sounds of it, this guy has probably had a hard day already. Or Eternity. Whatever. “But like, isn’t this the part where you take my soul?”

“Trust me.” Death says, staring Daniel down pitifully. “I do not want your stupid soul.” 

“Oh.” Daniel doesn’t know whether to be offended or not so he just asks, “So what ARE you here to do then? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya dude, that scythe looks pretty ominous to me.” 

Though the response gets an eye roll, Daniel thinks he can see the barest hint of a smile underneath it. 

Coughing, he then states, all official like, “My name is Max and I am here because it is my duty to guide you into the afterlife.” 

Max holds out the arm not carrying the weapon in invitation and Daniel takes the hint and starts walking. There’s rocks and uneven terrain that he has to climb over and crouch through. There are no trees or birds, no life except whatever he and Max are considered right now. Daniel didn’t know what he was expecting, fire and brimstone? 

They come to a lake and at Max’s gentle look, Daniel moves silently forward. It’s cool and the water laps at his collarbones, coming up to his neck. His foot slips and Max grabs his arm, saving his head from going under. He shivers away from the freezing cold touch. The hands don’t linger, as if Max knows that they feel like having a corpse clinging to Daniel’s body. Body moving again, Daniel refrains from rubbing his arm and tries not to think of the water being made up of thousands of souls who didn’t make it across beneath him.

Suddenly, Daniel can’t stand the silence. He tries a joke. “Why did the chicken go to the seance?” 

“I do not know?” Max looks unsure. But more so at the fact that Daniel is actually talking to him about something so stupid and not because he doesn’t know the answer. He plays along though, finally asking, “Why did the chicken go to the seance?”

“To get to the other side.” Daniel replies with a grin. 

“That was terrible.” But Max is looking at least faintly amused again so Daniel doesn’t believe him. 

They’ve reached the opposite bank now and Daniel steps free from the water. He feels lighter, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Looking down, his pants aren’t even soaked. He doesn’t feel as cold either even though his skin is just as cold to the touch. It’s like he’s acclimatised and has simply gotten used to being here.

“So where are we going then?” He can’t help but ask. There’s nothing in front of them or beside them now, just a whole heap of swirling mist he can’t see anything through. “Up or down? Stairway to heaven or the Highway to hell?”

Max sighs. “Up.” 

“Yes! Woo hoo! Take that Mr Brown who thought I’d never get anywhere good!” Excited, Daniel starts singing. “And she’s buy-ying a stairway to—”

“If you sing one more word I will cut you down right here.” Max puts the blade right up against Daniel’s neck. 

“Chill dude. Relax.” Daniel tries to reassure whilst gently guiding the scythe away from his throat. It might not be able to kill him, but he doesn’t wanna spend the rest of eternity without a head either. Where was that nice guy with the smile from earlier? Daniel keeps talking, trying to find him again.

“So what’s it like then? Heaven?” He asks whilst drifting his fingers through the puffs of clouds at his hips. It disappears in seconds, like the water, without him feeling anything at all. 

“Is it Paradise like everyone says it is? Comfy digs, all I can eat? That sort of thing?” Daniel hopes the food is at least real. He can’t imagine not eating for the rest of eternity. “And are there hot angels flying around as far as the eye can see?” Daniel adds mostly to get a rise out of the one beside him. 

Max ignores him, long strides taking him slightly ahead. Daniel can feel that there’s some sort of frosty tension now, like Max is actually mad at him instead of just his usual surly and unpleasant self. 

“You know I always thought there’d be more trees and leaves around. More greenery.” Daniel muses out loud to himself since Max has gone quiet. “And like, I’m not going to be by myself up there, right? My family will be waiting, yeah? Cause that would suck, spending eternity alone and every—”

“I don’t know, ok!” Max shouts. Daniel stops when he does. 

“What?” He asks incredulously. “You’ve never been? Aren’t you an Angel? Isn’t that like, home base or whatever?” 

Max starts moving again and him not answering is answer enough for Daniel. “Is it a rule or something? No fraternising with the enemy or some shit?”

“I don’t—” Max starts, and Daniel is unnerved to see Death looking so startled. “I don’t remember.”

“How can you not remember?” Daniel snorts, struggling to keep up with Max’s pace. 

“I have been doing this for as long as I can remember. I don’t know what there was before.” Max whispers sullenly. “It is maybe punishment for something, I think, but I can’t be sure.”

Just as Daniel is about to ask what type of person is charged with leading him to heaven, Max holds the tip of his scythe up to point at something up ahead. They’ve reached the gates now. Actual pearly gates, not a hint of gold in sight. And they only open when Daniel approaches them after Max takes a step back. 

They creak charmingly, like a garden gate he barely remembers from childhood. There’s sunshine shining from somewhere beyond the clouds and it smells like summer rain and his grandmother’s chocolate chip cookies she would always have ready for him when he visited her. And Daniel knows everything that flashed before his eyes as the garbage truck hit him lies within— everything his Sunday school teacher taught him a life of good deeds has afforded him, but he just can’t seem to make himself take that final step. He hesitates. 

“Well?” Max asks impatiently. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

Daniel shuffles on his feet, only now realising he’s barefoot. The entire journey here, rocks and lakes and mountains of dirt and he hadn’t felt a thing. Max did that. Max got him here safely even though he clearly didn’t want to. “But what about you?” 

The question seems to stun Max, like no one has ever asked it before and it makes Daniel think that he has been fucking up his job all this time if the so called ‘virtuous people’ he’s been ferrying across Limbo to the afterlife don’t even have any human decency left to ask. 

“I suppose I will go and get the next idiot who cannot make it across on their own.” Max states bitterly. 

“By yourself?” Max looks away as he shrugs and Daniel can’t help but wonder what the crime was he supposedly committed that would warrant him to spend an eternity of torture having to watch as everyone else got their happily ever after and not him. “But for how long?”

Max is looking into the scythe now, like he can see all the answers to his past in its blade. Daniel can. Its shiny surface reflects the pearly gates and the Paradise beyond made up of everything he ever thought he could want in life. Family, friends, warmth, happiness…. But Daniel’s already had a crack at living that one. And it only ended up with him being sent here to Max.

“Don’t suppose you want any company, do you?” Daniel asks, half jokingly, half not, just to gauge Max’s reaction. He’s never believed in destiny or any shit like that, but who he is to turn down an actual Angel of God looking at him like he is the answer to all the mysteries and wonders in the universe. 

Holding out a hand, he takes the scythe from Max and suddenly Daniel is engulfed in a sea of black fabric. 

“Sweet.” He quips looking down at the same cloak as Max’s that’s now wrapped around him too. With the other hand not holding on to the scythe he holds it out to Max. “How’s about it then? We could call it a double team approach?”  

Looking back at the slightest glimpse of heaven he’s only ever been able to see, Max looks troubled. “Are you sure of this? I do not know if you can go back.” 

At the caution and care in those words, Daniel wonders who could have abandoned Max when he had obviously offered them to the last reaper. ‘Casue Daniel now knows that’s what must have happened. Max couldn’t ever be some heinous butcher or something like that. No one who has so much compassion and longing for human companionship could be capable of something so cruel as that.

“Well I ain’t no chicken.” Daniel laughs in reference to his own joke. “It ain’t all about getting to the other side, you know.” 

This time, the hand that grasps Daniel’s own is warm and full and together they glow a golden colour that makes him believe that this has always been a job better handled with two. 

“But you will not slow me down of course.” Max warns, still looking stunned at the glow. “I actually have a job to do and I can’t be holding your hand the whole time.”

And Daniel knows he’s bullshitting by how hard Max is still clinging to his hand but he lets it slide. After an eternity of dealing with ungrateful souls running and begging to have their lives back when he is only trying to offer them something so much better, Max has earned some faith of his own. 

“Then lead on, oh grimmest of reapers, you.” Daniel says and follows as Max leads them back the way they came.

Hands still tied by the souls that shine bright within, and by the burden of the scythe now shared between them, together they make the long journey back towards oblivion and beyond. 

[radioiaci]

Wanted to answer all the nice things I was given in one post, so find them under the read-more cuz it's long. <3

@radiiosugars ⧐ you are a wonderful writer and i enjoy seeing your portrayal! I smile when you're on my dash <3 the little details you include with his perspective really do paint a picture! (and i hope your day gets better! )

WEH THANK YOU SO MUCH SALT, you're a blessing and I wholeheartedly appreciate whenever you spam me on Discord with SILLIES even though I don't always have the capacity to respond right away fjkdjgjdg I LOVE YOUR PORTRAYAL AND YOUR ART TOO and thank you for the kindness 😭

@copaceticjillybean ⧐ You are…soooo good at stuff! Your Alastor portrayal, your art, it’s all just really really cool! I’m always so excited, when I see you post your animatics, or a new drawing, or a reply, because I know it’s gonna brighten up my day a bit! ; I know you’re having a hard time today, but I just wanted you to know that I think you’re really neat and good at what you do. ^w^ ; Oh, and I almost forgot- you’re also just FUN. Like, your ooc posts are just cute and funny, and I like seeing you pop on and tell us what you’re thinking. You’re easy to talk to, and that means a lot, especially for someone like me who can get nervous talking with people >u<;

AAAA THANK YOU, I really do try to be as approachable as possible given the type of person that I am, so I really don't want anyone to feel like they CAN'T talk to me. sometimes the RPC can feel really limited and exclusive and I like to change that in whatever way I can. you are always very kind and fun to write with as well AND I CAN'T WAIT to see what sort of sillies Alastor and Jillian can get up to

@helluvaflames ⧐ I love the way you write Alastor and I'm still loving writing Fizzarolli and him in these scenes. You write Alastor so well and its been so fun to get to know him through our threads!

YES THANK YOU YOU GET ME, I love writin' with your lil Fizzy too! I'm also excited for Alastor and Angel's "date" LOL I'm sure there will be RIDICULOUSNESS there, just knowing how they generally interact. Thank you for putting up with me and my silly deer boy!!

@tinyfieryghost ⧐ YOUR ART IS SIMPLY INCREDIBLE. I love how you draw Alastor and writing with you is always a pleasure! I also love how you write Alastor! Silly guy who can and will murder and maim!!! Also you're great to talk to in general!

LISTEN YOU, YOUR ART IS ALSO PHENOMENAL and I didn't think I genuinely would get as invested into Alastor/Ghost's relationship but him in my brain was just like? ? ? ? "this one is mine? ? ?? actually???" so I MEAN IT JUST HAPPENED THAT WAY and I'm not mad about it. I'M EXCITED for Al's encounter with Reaper fr fr and I love writing with you!!!

@visage-of-hell ⧐ *violently kicks in the door* DID SOMEONE SAY POSITIVITY???? ; Bitch, you're one of the most TALENTED fuckers I know on this site. Amazing writing style? Check. Brilliant character portrayal? Check. AND knock-your-socks-off gorgeous artistic skills to boot???? Dude, you are a triple threat of sheer creative genius--don't you DARE be doubting that for even a second!

WUH HUH BUH LISTEN you are ALSO very talented and I VERY MUCH love writing with Al and Vis together because they're a real ENEMY TO LOVER ARC MAYBE? AND I KNOW IT'S SLOW MOVING BECAUSE ALASTOR IS STUPID but I LOVE IT ALSO??? Thank you my friend, I love to talk with you too and share funny sillies and fawn over them being so STUPID

@damnedrainbows ⧐ //you’re one of my favorite alastors and truthfully I admired from the sidelines for a while because I felt inadequate hehehehe I can!t wait to interact with our muses more and see where it go for him and lucifer ; also forgot to tack on, amazing artist ; like seriously I link my friends your art all the time on discord lol

WHAT???? ONE OF UR FAVS???? STOPPIT. That always means a ton to me, especially because I know how many TALENTED and wonderful writers there are playing Alastor out there so that RLY MAKES ME FEEL GOOD AND VALUED and YOUR writing is also fantastic! Al/Lucifer's first thread is so weirdly deep after starting off as like almost a meme and I'm LIVING for it LOL. AND I'M GLAD YOU LIKE MY ART LMAO maybe some day I'll draw something like actual serious for people to share jgdljgd but I enjoy drawing shitpost Al too much BUT THANK YOU this means a lot.

@lilitophidian ⧐ HEEEEY YOU, I LOVE YOUR LITTLE DEER, AND WE GOT SOME DOPE ASS SHIT GOING ON LIKE??? your writing is so fucking good I wanna do more threads with you at some point even though I have verbal diarrhea ; BUT YOU DESERVE THE BEST LIKE I TAKE TIME ON MY REPLIES TO YOU SO THEY ARE GOOD EATS??? Like, let me love on ya!!! ; Also your art ; I'd tattoo the pink dress wearing Alastor on my body fr

MY LIL DEER BOY YES I'M SO EXCITED for him to be.... tortured... mercilessly (that sounds bad LMAO) but LISTEN we are both wordy and I do NOT hate that one bit, I EAT IT UP YUMYUM gimmi all that good good exposition and artsy prose I LOVE that shit and you do it SO WELL. Also thank you for recommending frilly pink dress Alastor, I think he will never live that one down LMAO.

@ducktastic-dad ⧐ you are SO funny and sweet pascall, i love writing with you ( and your writing is amazing obviously i cannot live without it ) but even just our conversations ooc bring me lots of joy !! you have fantastic art and i am FLOORED by how creative you are ! thank you for making me funny shitposts and indulging my horrible brainrot 😭💜

I'M GRABBING YOU AND SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS listen the fact that you have put up with my dumbass over the last few weeks just constantly spamming you with radioapple shit means that you should get some type of AWARD HONESTLY. every IC interaction we have is so good and whenever you reply I'm like *VACCUUM NOISES* as i ABSORB IT. YOU're the one indulging MY horrible brainrot and u know what there's something beautiful about that. THANK YOU ily ily

--------------

Thank you all for such kind words, it really did make me feel better about my poopy day. <3

[blingblong55]

Can I ask why you dont like her? (Brittany)

(Please ignore this if you dont feel comfortable)

this is my opinion, my views and if you dont like it, you can happily leave :) It's long...I know

I just sent this exact reason to a friend so I’m copying and pasting what I texted her but with more context

Alr here it goes, to me she’s become a hypocrite. Sometime ago she had said that people should talk about any cause that deserves attention. (BLM or what is happening in Palestine for example) When she was asked to speak about what is happening in Palestine, she made a comment on her close friends that left me annoyed with her. It annoyed me bc I was such a huge fan of her and the way she said that her voice as a white woman wouldn’t matter to the conversation of Gaza made me mad. Just educating someone about something as tragic as what is happening is so important, she has a huge platform and her voice could reach more people, it can help. She can't claim to be an activist when she picks what she can and can't talk about, white privilege shit. She set the standard for herself, this is not me just hating. She said she cares about what is happening but associated with people like that Ethan guy from the H3 podcast, he's a zionist! It's so sad to know that someone I supported is just putting an act, she's performing for us and her so called activism.

She always says that how dare we or anyone that has a platform for that matter, stay silent or not use our platforms to speak about what is happening, the injustice that we see or that others are going through. I'm not making it up. She cries and rants on camera about human rights, she preaches about this but doesn't say shit when we need her to speak up? be for real girl

I know you or others could be fans of her and hate me for my opinions but know this; If a man would stay silent during women's suffrage, like in America with abortion getting banned, would we not be mad at him? would we understand that he isn't qualified because he is a man? we as women would be mad, upset and disappointed that he didn't back us up, so why let her stay silent? a man doesn't know shit about women's reproductive health, and maybe she doesn't know much about what is happening to Palestinians, but why are we allowing her to just sit back and not speak up about this?

The war doesn't affect her but it affects people who are her fans, strangers, children, mothers, fathers and the future of that country, so why stay silent?

Maybe to her or any person who doesn't go through social injustice doesn't see the importance in this. But the next time you see a father or mother carry their dead child, the one that should've seen more of life, think about those who stayed silent and didn't make this a bigger deal, that because of them, we can't do much because our voices are smaller compared to theirs.

On another note, she, to me is the kind of person to speak nicely to you but hate you to others. The Tana and Brittany thing, I get it, tana is controversial but so is that Ethan guy and that other Theo dude. She keeps appearances when it comes to sitting down and talking with other women who yes, tana is an ableist and all but look at those two other men. Ethan, a zionist, Theo a misogynist. The only reason why she posted on her TikTok about the whole Palestine thing, which I'm sure she wasn't happy about, is because someone recorded her close friends and people saw it, got mad at her and she had to backpedal like Watcher. (their shit isn't as serious as her imo)

Hate me all you want but don't you dare say I'm not a girls girl. I am but I also don't support women or men who are hypocrites.

Remember she said this when she was asked to speak about the genocide, "It's dystopian that I have to speak on this", yeah...no thank you girl

I'll end my rant with this, "If you have a platform, and you have people's ear, you have their attention, how dare you not speak about the things that matter." Brittany Broski

[mythoughtsonfilm]

the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes (2023)

rating: stop making war criminals hot/10

*spoilers*

-ok. so. i wasn't going to be one of those people.

-the people that just hop on the "snow is hot" bandwagon.

-but, alas...

-please don't expect any genuine analysis here, there is nothing even remotely close to that present at this time

-anyway. let's start from the top.

-the seventeen semi-unnecessary shirtless/shower/half-naked-sulking scenes they managed to cram in these first three seconds is actually kind of impressive

-i'm not complaining.

-i see all the snow family fortune is funneling directly into the Coriolanus bleach and tone fund

-the only thing running through my mind is book snow's inner monologue

-"district scum" keeps coming to me in flashes

-hop skip and jump to the reaping scene

-peter dinklage will slay no matter the occasion.

-and viola davis

-"i'm part of that litter" PLEASE

-i'm sorry. not a joking matter. sometimes i get too caught up on dialogue choices.

-"sing your way out of this one lucy gray."

-welp.

-omgggg he's so considerate showing up to the train like that

-what a sweet, caring guy

-i was so caught off guard by them literally dumping them into the zoo

-as if that's what should catch me off guard.

-dare i say snow is a bit of a devious betch

-dude has zero friends and is still managing to betray every one

-never trust a blond man, that's what i always say

-a PLATINUM blond at that

-i've lost the plot a bit

-literally

-anyway

-wait let's discuss that rejected kiss. i turned away from the screen tbh. can't handle the embarrassment.

-if i wasn't already missing the entire point of the movie, the "take off your shirt"-single-tear-stitching-up-of-the-wound moment definitely shoved me into the oblivious observer territory

-(i promise i took more from this movie than i'm letting on)

-(really)

-but now let's pop back to the games

-scream queens is preventing me from believing the rat poisoning situation but i'm trying to ignore that

-lucy slay baerd

-eh. sorry.

-HE CHEATED THE GAMES FOR HER

-he was just sending water. HE WAS JUST SENDING WATER. ugh.

-how could this possibly go wrong? he's so sweet and nice 🥰

-see, i think he thinks he's really smart but genuinely how do you use a monogrammed handkerchief to break the law??

-now, i understand he wanted to go to 12 and all, but using his family's literal last dime in this world to pay his way there is rubbing me the wrong way

-could it be? a(nother)? red? flag?

-ok so we're all just gonna pretend that scene of him facing the wall wasn't concerning to feminism.

-buzzcut era for the win

-sejanus and him should just kiss already.

-his utter commitment to being a peacekeeper is so jarring.

-suzanne collins knew what she was doing with these songs

-the punch.

-katniss reference, cute cute

-so sorry--did he LEAVE during the song NAMED after him?????

-oh lucy gray. you are far too good for him.

-so i'm thinking i need to wrap this up

-oops. shot someone there. whoops. got someone else strung up there. mistaaaakes. we all make em.

-"my old self"

-the old snow can't come to the phone right now...

-anyway.

-never in my life have i seen someone pitch a fit like this, get a grip

-hilarious how he just casually strolls back into 12 after that conniption.

-"you look just like your father" as you should, tigris.

-*villainous, brooding stroll across multiple lanes of traffic*

-the rainbow imagery. love.

-the hair timeline is really not working for me here, i feel like we skipped some vital info, but it's fine

-oh that callback was phenomenal booming through the theater

-i don't consider myself that dense, but i did, in fact, have to watch this entire movie and re-listen to "can't catch me now" to realize that's literally the whole movie right there. yikes.

-snow lands on top.

-god i hope so.

-i'm so sorry.