#anthony dumb hours

[nerdygirlwithanxiety]

I still can't believe the moment I got payed I spent 100$ on genshin impact forgetting to do my rent first.....all because I was desperate for xiao.....

[gothpersy]

as my friend put it, vaporgoth

[pedropascallme]

The Weather Ain't Been Bad

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, Damien is a biter but we knew that, lots of begging and even more praise, Damien likes getting his hair pulled but we knew that. If I missed anything please let me know!

“You look dumb.”

“I’ll literally—look at me, look at me. Shut up.”

You listened to Shayne and Angela argue in the back seat, their back and forth had started as a game of I-spy and quickly devolved into improvised insults on hour one of the drive after a patch of traffic resulted in a lack of things to spy.

“Literally nothing you say could ever affect me I don’t care about anything you have to say to me.” Shayne deadpanned and you heard Angela let out a shrill sound as she tried to climb out of her seatbelt to punch him in the arm.

“Hey, you know what would actually be really fun?” Damien, driving, looked back at them through the rearview mirror, “If you guys would, uh, shut the hell up?”

You laughed quietly; head propped up on the window as you watched the California landscape go from dusty highway to snowcapped trees. Hours long car ride aside, you were happy to be making the trip. It had never occurred to you that upon Anthony’s return to the company there would be a renaissance of Smosh content that didn’t have to do with the main channel, but when they announced the return of the Winter Games you felt a swell of joy—it was nice to be part of something that went back so many years and still continued to entertain the masses, especially when that something made you feel a cathartic sort of nostalgia.

And now, sitting in the front seat and listening to your friends threaten each other in increasingly ridiculous ways, watching Damien’s hand on the steering wheel, it went beyond simple nostalgia: It was pure ecstasy. The low hum of music on the radio paired nicely with the long road ahead, and you leaned back, closing your eyes for a moment.

You felt a hand on your knee, giving you a short squeeze. You opened your eyes, grabbing Damien’s hand and squeezing him back.

“What?” You playfully pushed his hand back towards his body, and he gripped the steering wheel.

“You’re my GPS, you can’t fall asleep.”

“I could navigate!” Angela leaned forward, elbows on the center console.

“You—you would get us lost in your own house, you psycho.” Amanda piped up for the first time in several minutes, placing a hand gingerly on Angela’s shoulder and laughing.

“Hey!” Angela turned her attention away from the front seat, pushing against Shayne, who had started laughing at her expense once more.

Damien glanced at you from his peripheral, as if to silently lament about your friends in the back seat, and you glanced back, smiling.

You appreciated the moments you got to spend with Damien. It wasn’t like they were rare; since you’d joined the cast, he was always someone you’d found a sort of reliability in, and a shared sense of humor went a long way. He was always a beacon of tranquility amongst the chaos of the office. He could be just as rowdy as everybody else—and often was—but he was always able to weed out when somebody needed a moment to recalibrate, and it felt like he knew what you needed before even you did sometimes. But he seemed to have that effect on most everybody, and you didn’t want to push too hard for something that might not be there, despite how happy you were to feel his hand on your back when he guided you through crowded spaces, or to hear him say your name in that faux-crestfallen way when you cheated in cards.

He turned his gaze back to the road, and you found yourself leaning against the window again, passively looking at his reflection in the trees that darted by, and thinking things that you decided should remain unsaid.

~~~

The house was gigantic, and even that was putting it lightly.

In theory, you recognized that you worked for a multi-million-dollar company, but it was more than a little weird to be standing in the doorway of a house big enough to hold at least 20 copies of your own apartment inside of it.

But you understood the want to splurge; it had been years since the last Winter Games, and even longer still since there had been a Games with Anthony. It was exciting, and even before you had gotten to the cabin-style mansion, there had been a buzz in the air; cast and crew alike vibrating in anticipation of a vacation-like period where things would be more akin to camp than to work.

Filming started immediately, and you barely had time to think about what exactly was happening before you were back in front of a camera.

Shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the cast, Ian and Anthony made picks for their respective teams; it was easy to forget that you were in a new space—it was like you’d never left the office, still in good company and laughing until your cheeks hurt. You donned the bright blue shirt that had been handed to you, and wondered how many raunchy, snow-related jokes you’d have to hear over the next week.

“Be honest with me,” you put the shirt on over the one you were already wearing, joining the side of the room with the rest of your teammates, “Are we gonna lose?”

Damien laughed, “With that attitude? Probably.”

Maybe the best part of the trip was the fact that this year marked the first time that everybody got their own room. You’d heard the stories—not that they were all that bad, but it was nice to know that even when surrounded by your friends for two weeks, you’d still be able to duck out for some private time in your own space.

Except that your room was freezing.

You hadn’t noticed it upon your arrival, coat still zipped up and adrenaline on high, but once you had showered and readied yourself for bed, you recognized the deep, unwelcome chill in your bones. The source evaded you; the windows were closed, the ceiling fan was completely still—it was a frustrating end to a long day.

You gave up, putting on a heavier sweatshirt and deciding that locating the source of the frigid air was a problem for tomorrow. There had to be extra blankets somewhere, and you tried to recall whether there had been any on the couches downstairs. Even if there weren’t, getting out of your room and regaining a little feeling in your fingers sounded appealing.

You quietly exited your bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, you shifted your weight awkwardly from side to side to avoid any sudden creaks from the old wood. The house was silent—save for the wind outside that howled against the windows every few moments—and you didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.

“I’m sorry—did I scare you?” The familiar sound of timely apologies, whispered from across the room. You felt your heart settle. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, Damien,” you took measured breaths, “scared me.”

“Sorry,” his voice was low. He stood behind the kitchen island, hair messy, and it was clear he was struggling to sleep as much as you were.

“It’s ok,” you walked towards where he was standing, leaning over the island to grab at his arm reassuringly before letting go; his skin was warm against your palm, and even in the dark of the room you were unable to tear your eyes from him. “I didn’t think anybody else was up.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not by choice,” he sighed, “my room is a sauna.”

“You’ve got your own room, you couldn’t just strip down?” You raised your eyebrows, teasing him, trying not to think about how he might look spread out on his bed with nothing on.

“There are only so many layers I can take off until it’s, like, my skin,” he smiled, and you broke out into a quiet laugh.

“Well, my room is freezing, so,” you collected yourself a little, “I came down looking for more blankets, but if you wanted to switch…”

“Is the window open?” He furrowed his brow, seemingly concerned by your discomfort.

“Not even a crack,” you clarified, “Your room sounds like a dream to me right now.”

You didn’t realize how it sounded until he let out a snort, “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You know what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, and he reached over the counter to brush his hand against yours in a gesture of peace.

You stood quietly together, enjoying each other’s company and the calm of the house. You let your hand remain under his on the granite, and he didn’t make any moves to separate from you.

“Thanks for being a good sport about navigating,” Damien ran his other hand over his face, tired after the seemingly endless day. “I know it probably wasn’t your first choice.”

“Yeah, well. You better thank God we’re on the same team, otherwise I’d use 'competitive determination' as an excuse to get back at you for keeping me up." You shot back jovially, “But, you know…it was nice to help you out.” You paused. “I liked it, actually.”

He shot you a small smile, which you returned, and the two of you let silence fall again.

“How about I see if I can find the source of whatever it is that’s making you so cold?” He tilted his head, sincerely offering to help you, and you could never say no to an offer like that.

You could never say no to Damien.

“That would be nice.” You curled your pinky into the palm of his hand before turning to lead him to your room.

You were friends, always had been upon your entrance into the company; he was an undeniably important presence in your life for that very reason—he was there. He was always there when you needed him. He was supportive and kind and stupidly funny, and, yeah, incredibly attractive. But that didn’t mean it had to be something more. Just because you looked forward to the days he came into work with dark stubble that contrasted with the silver of his hair, just because you forgot the rules to certain games sometimes because you were too focused on the way his sleeves fit around his arms, just because you loved the way his eyes trailed over your face when you told him a story and he got just as animated as you did—it didn’t have to be anything more than friendship.

But realistically, despite your insistence to your friends and to yourself that you considered Damien a great, strictly-platonic friend and nothing more, you knew what you really wanted.

You knew you wanted more.

And despite the innocent context under which you were bringing him up to your room, there was a surge of adrenaline that coursed through your chest while he trailed behind you.

“Jesus,” he pushed his shoulders back upon opening the door to your room, goosebumps pricking his skin. “Some weather we’re having.”

“I told you,” you pushed past him, kicking a stray pair of socks into the corner. “You still think you can fix it?”

“They actually call me Damien “Fix-It” Haas,” he cracked his knuckles, “Don’t look into it.”

You smiled, shaking your head, spreading your arms out to signal that he could poke around freely.

It took him approximately ten seconds to locate the thermostat behind a curtain.

“Are you serious?” You kicked yourself for missing what should’ve been so obvious.

“I’m Damien,” he went straight-faced, “And this says sixty-five degrees—how are you not frozen solid?”

“Pure will.” Your head fell back in exasperation, “How did I miss that?”

“You’re tired,” he softened, “It’s been a long day, y’know, and I bet a lot of people are too dumb to look behind curtains—”

You cut him off with a curt but soft shove to his chest, and he grabbed your hands after they made impact, both of you semi-delirious from lack of sleep and falling into a fit of giggles. He removed one of his hands from you, leaning back to change the thermostat.

“It’ll heat up eventually,” he started, “What number do you want it at?”

“Warm.”

“So, that is not a number,” he smiled at you, “I’ll put it in the seventies.”

“Thank you,” you wriggled free of the grasp he still had on your wrist, “My hero.”

You stood facing each other for a moment, neither of you ready to part for some reason.

“I should go to sleep,” you finally spoke.

“Yeah.” He agreed, voice sounding raspier than it had before. He started to walk towards the door while you leaned back onto the pillows on the bed.

“Damien,” you didn’t know what you were doing, or if you should be doing it, but it felt only logical in the moment, “Stay.”

You watched him freeze in place, turning back to look at you.

“I mean…if your room is uncomfortable to sleep in—what, are you gonna sleep on the couch?” You continued, rambling to find reasoning behind your sudden offer, “You can just stay here tonight.”

“Seriously?” He scanned your features, trying to figure out if you were serious or if this was just a joke that he hadn’t caught onto yet.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair that you have to spend the night in discomfort. Especially after you fixed the temperature in here.” You felt a red heat rising in your ears, but you soldiered on, still waiting for a yes or no. You watched as he turned to walk towards the door again, and your heart sank a little, before he closed the door in front of him and walked back to you.

“One hell of a sleepover—one bed, no snacks, and you don’t even have a Wii,” He feigned disappointment.

“But I hear when mom goes to sleep, they bring out Kevin’s mom.” You smiled, digging your heels into the comforter, and he laughed at the callback.

He sat on the mattress, leaning back on the pillows with you, and you used it as an excuse to angle yourself towards him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder.

“I can sleep on the floor. If you want…” He whispered, and you felt his fingers trail up your own hand.

“No,” you turned to look at him, still on your back but suddenly very aware of the proximity to which you were lying next to each other, letting him continue to run his hand along your arm. “It’s still cold in here.”

“I can turn the heat up—”

You watched as he traced the curve of your elbow with his finger before letting it fall back to your hand, “Damien, stop being a gentleman. Just share the bed with me.”

“Ok.” He stopped moving, gaze falling on you and swallowing shallowly. You laced your fingers with his. You were certain he could see your heart beating through your ribcage, or at the very least he could see the way your pulse bounced in your wrist. “Yeah, ok.”

You didn’t undress, didn’t even get under the covers, but something felt so intimate; a shift in the air. Maybe it was the new warmth that permeated throughout the room, but it was different, in the best way.

It felt like more.

He didn’t touch you, didn’t even graze your back when you turned over to get comfortable. But you felt his breath on the back of your head, rustling your hair and drifting over the back of your neck.

Your eyes stayed open, unable to let sleep take hold despite the tranquility; the moon bounced off the snow and caused a dim light to trickle through the window, and you were wide awake.

You shifted again, turning back over to face Damien. His eyes were closed, and you watched the subtle movements of his body, chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep.” He whispered, and you bit your tongue, unsure of what to say. Busted. He opened one eye and broke into a small smile. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You whispered back, nearly letting the sound of the wind outside drown you out.

“I could take you,” he propped himself up on his arm.

“Is that a challenge or a blanket statement?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because I wasn’t going to murder you, but those are fighting words.”

“What do you think?” He was goading you now, waiting to see if you’d back down from whatever this was, if there was a line you were going to draw.

“I think I could kick your ass.” You sat up on your knees.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, skeptical. You couldn’t think of what to say, couldn’t tell what this was, or what would happen if you crossed the physical boundary into his space.

You threw caution to the wind for the second time within the hour. 

You launched yourself towards him, and he let his arm fall to the side, lying on his back as you clambered to straddle him. Grabbing his wrists, you pulled his hands above his head, letting out a small huff of victory.

You couldn’t recall a time where you’d ever been this close to Damien before. There was a pool of heat in your stomach that you tried to write off as a burst of energy—adrenaline hitting in the middle of the night—while you rationalized being in this position with him. With your friend. It was just wrestling; a playful act among companions. You’d seen people do it all the time in the office. Courtney put Spencer in a headlock the other day—you’d seen her do it to Ian the day before that. It was fine. It wasn’t anything other than roughhousing.

It didn’t have to be anything more.

“I told you.” You gloated.

“I was in a vulnerable position. This is hardly what I would call a fair fight.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m being a sore loser?” He smiled, all teeth, and you were about to respond, tell him that you had won, fair and square, and that if he wanted to lose again, you’d grant him the rematch he clearly wanted so desperately.

Instead, he flipped you onto your back, knee between your legs and one hand pinning your wrists above your head just as you had done to him.

“Never let your guard down,” He laughed, and you bit back a smile.

“That’s not fair.”

“That’s what a sore loser would say.” He taunted, and you thought you felt his grip tighten around your wrists.

You looked up at him, unsure where to go from here.

Surely, you’d separate, turn over and away from each other, fall asleep, and then act like nothing was different tomorrow—because nothing was different. Nothing had changed. This was nothing.

But you liked the way he looked like this; his knee caught between the V of your own legs, the muscles in his arm tense from the grip he had on you, his other hand planted on the bed at your side, just close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of it. You watched him swallow.

“Tell me to let go,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. “Tell me to let go and I will.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t make a sound. All you could do was stare up at him, before you reminded yourself to speak, to say anything, to finally reveal what it was you wanted.

“Kiss me.” You were worried he wouldn’t hear it over the wind, words coming out small and breathy, but you saw the way the muscle in his jaw clicked.

He was on you instantly, colliding with you in a frenzied kiss. He let go of your wrists, and your hands came down to trail over his back, pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck. He bit at your bottom lip, and the sharp sting was counteracted quickly by the way his tongue darted over it, exploring you while you whined underneath him. He licked into your mouth, and you sucked at his tongue before letting his exploration continue, your hands reaching under the back of his shirt in an attempt to get closer, to let him suffocate you with his attention.

He pulled back, lips pink and cheeks blushed, his hand coming to hold your jaw and encourage you to open wider. He spit into your open mouth, before pushing on your jaw, encouraging you to close it. You did, swallowing his offering before opening your mouth again, sticking out your tongue as proof of your deed.

“Fuck,” he growled, hand still on your face when he reconnected his mouth to yours. It was needier now; sloppy and wet, and you could taste him perfectly like this, your spit mingling with his, licking into his mouth to get as much of him as you could.

He trailed down your body, leaving kisses on any skin available to him. The collar of your shirt exposed your clavicle, and he bit into the skin around it, sinking his teeth into you just enough for red marks to appear, before sucking a bruise onto the skin of the bone.

“Camera,” you reminded him haphazardly, “Nothing the camera can see—” You combed your fingers through his hair, pulling hard to ensure he listened to your warning, and he groaned at the pressure, removing his mouth from you.

“Right,” He was breathing hard, thumb rubbing circles on the bruise he had just made, low enough on your chest that your shirt would cover it—a secret between the two of you. He leaned back down, lips wrapping around the pulse point below your ear and peppering gentle kisses on it. You ground your hips onto him, his knee still planted between your thighs, stabilizing his position, and you felt the fabric of your pajamas catch perfectly on your clit, letting out a soft moan.

Damien watched, lips parted, as you bucked your hips against his thigh; some area of his brain wanted to let you continue, let you bring yourself to the edge by using him like this, but that was outweighed by the part of him that wanted so desperately to be the one making you cum; he wanted to make you fall apart, wanted to see how pretty you looked when he was making you feel good.

He moved his leg, effectively straddling you, and you let out a whimper of discontent, disappointed by the sudden loss of friction when you had been so close to what you needed.

“I know, baby,” his voice was cloying, clearly finding your whines enticing in a twisted sort of way; call it sadistic, but he didn’t want you putting in any work—he wanted to be in charge of all your pleasure. “I’ll let you finish, I promise,” he licked a stripe up your neck. “Tell me what you need.”

“Want your mouth,” you were quick to answer.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, I want your mouth on me Damien—please.”

“You want my mouth?” He nipped at your jawline, “Want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

You nodded, entranced by how devious he looked, pupils blown out, swallowing the moon’s reflection, silver hair messy from being pulled on and falling over his eyes, skin flushed pink; you were absolutely overcome with need watching him at his most primal.

He moved further down your body, situating himself between your legs and tucking his fingers beneath the waistband of your pajamas; you lifted your hips when he began to pull the fabric off of you, slowly, and you tried in vain to push your pants off faster.

“Uh-uh,” he moved his hands to cover yours, “be patient.”

You removed your hands from the flannel waistband, placing them over your chest and trying to crane your neck to watch him. It felt like an eternity before he finally let the fabric pool around your ankles, sliding them off with help from you kicking gently against the air. If ever there was a time to be thankful that you didn’t sleep in underwear, it would be now.

Moving back towards your core, he pulled your legs over his shoulders, still concentrated on making you comfortable even while most of his focus was on your naked cunt.

“Do you always get wet this quickly?” He let you hook your knee behind his head, looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shut up,” you felt suddenly embarrassed, as if it was only now, with his breath fanning your spread legs, that he had become suspicious of your attraction to him.

“That’s a no, then?” He smirked and your embarrassment dissipated when you saw the prideful smile.

Damien’s eyes shifted then from your face to your inner thigh, turning his head to suck marks on it just as he had on your neckline. He bit into the supple flesh, just hard enough to leave an outline of his teeth, before kissing bruises onto the same spots. You let out a contented sigh, and he squeezed your other thigh before turning his head again to repeat the process on that side. Licking stripes up your legs and into the joint of your thigh, he stopped short of where you wanted him, letting out a hum every time you exhaled in frustration at the lack of attention your cunt was getting.

He liked riling you up, seeing your brow furrow and your cheeks redden in frustration at not getting what you had asked for.

He relented when you started whispering pleas of his name, hand buried in his hair and pulling gently at the roots for him to use his mouth on you like he had said he would. You gasped at the contact of his tongue on your clit, the way he flattened the muscle to slide over you before moving it in slow circles over your bud. His fingers dug bruises into your thighs, holding them over his shoulders and pulling you closer to him when he finally started licking circles around your hole.

“Fuck—fuck!” you couldn’t get another word out, too focused on the way he dove into you and lapped up your slick. He was messy but masterful, letting your juices and his spit trail down over the curve of your ass while making your back arch off the mattress, hand still in his hair and unsure of whether you wanted to push him down further or pull him off due to the overwhelming sensation.

The sounds were pornographic, wet and filthy, and when you pulled harder on his hair he let out a low growl that displayed his pleasure while heightening your own.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groaned into you, spitting onto your dripping cunt before indulging once more in your taste. You became aware of the way his hips ground into the mattress with every flick of his tongue and every mewl you let out. “Cum for me like this, baby, can you do that? Let me taste it?”

You threw your head back at his words, pressure building in your stomach at the way he clearly got so much enjoyment from making you feel good, paired with the way his teeth grazed your clit, sucking on you until you saw stars and then pulling away to do it again. One of his hands fell from your leg, and he brought it to your cunt, spitting once before pushing two fingers in. You squirmed, moaning, as he curled them towards him and fluttered them over the spongy spot inside of you. He dragged his tongue over your clit one more time, and you were catapulted over the edge, dizzy with lust, pleasure coursing through you like an electric current.

Damien moved back up the bed, hugging you to him while you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm, muttering words of praise.

“Did so fucking good,” he kissed the top of your head, “Such a good girl—was that ok? Are you alright?” His thumb ran over your cheek, and he dipped his head down to leave kisses in its wake.

You let out a shaky breath, adjusting your position to throw your leg over his side before wrapping your arms around him to pull him down for a kiss.

“So good.” You muttered, tasting yourself on his lips. You rolled your hips against his lazily, reaching down to trail your hand over his evident bulge. “More.”

“Yeah?” He groaned, taking in the way your hand felt on his clothed cock.

“Please.” You looked up at him through your lashes.

He reconnected his lips to yours, moving slowly and swallowing your sounds.

“You want me like this?” He whispered, hands sweeping over your body, “Gonna let me fuck you into the mattress?”

Your hips bucked on their own accord, and you nodded feverishly. He sat up, pulling you up after him, and reached under the hem of your shirt to help you remove it. He got distracted by the sight of your chest, the swell of your breasts and the way you looked at him expectantly.

“You’re so pretty,” he almost laughed, absolutely delighted by you, as he leaned down to suck a bruise on the valley between your breasts. He nipped at the pillowy skin, teeth skimming your nipple when he took it into his mouth, barely putting pressure on it until your hand flew to his hair in a gesture to make him continue, to give you more. You whimpered, sitting on your knees with his face pressed against your chest.

He stood up, removing his shirt quickly before untying the cord of his pants.

“There’s really nothing sexier than a man in pajama bottoms,” he made a face as he fumbled with the knot of the string, finally undoing it with a sharp tug.

“I’d have to agree.” You shot him a smug look and he shook his head, smiling. He situated himself back on the mattress, pushing you onto your back and kissing your neck. You let out a quiet yelp when you landed on the pillows, laughing softly. You still felt dizzy, the entire situation leaving you completely shocked but admittedly thrilled, and when you saw him looking down at you, you felt words leave your mouth before you could filter them.

“I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”

Damien smiled again, kissing your forehead before dipping down to trail kisses over your jaw. “Me too.”

“So, uh,” You let your hand wander down his body, stopping at the base of his cock and teasing your fingers around it, “You gonna fuck me into the mattress now?”

He grabbed your hand, and in a parallel to the situation that got you here, pinned it above your head.

“Is that what you want?” His pupils swallowed his irises, giving him the appearance of someone completely lost in desire. It made you greedy for more.

“Yeah.” You breathed.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“No. The whole thing. Say it.”

“I want…” You felt dirty saying it out loud, and that was half the appeal, “I want you to fuck me into the mattress.”

“That’s right. You gonna beg for it?”

You liked him like this, so cocky and domineering. It made you feel breathless, head swimming with what was to come. Dominance looked good on him.

“Please, Damien,” you swallowed, squirming slightly in anticipation.

“C’mon, you can do better than that.” He practically scoffed, “Beg.”

“Fuck me, please,” you felt yourself growing frustrated, and you could feel your heart beating in your cunt. “I was so good—I’ve been so good, please, I’ll take what you give me I promise just—please, please fuck me.”

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your wrist fisted his cock, and you tilted your head to watch him stroke himself while he lined up with your entrance. You whined, hoping that maybe it would make him move faster.

“What did I say about being patient?” He chided, and your head fell back onto the pillows.

“Please, Damien.” You couldn’t have hidden your eagerness if you tried.

“One more time.” You felt the tip of his cock between your folds, collecting your slick and nudging your entrance.

“Please—yes!” You gasped when he pushed his hips forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the way he filled you completely in one stroke.

“Good girl.” He grabbed your other hand, now pinning both your wrists down over your head, giving him a full view of your body underneath him. “You feel good? Worth the wait?”

You nodded your head, mouth open and eyes wide, mesmerized by the stretch and the feeling of him seated deep inside of you.

“Tell me—use your words,” His own patience was wearing thin, and you could tell he was waiting for the opportunity to fuck you the way he wanted to.

“Feels so good, Damien,” you nodded again, “Move—fuck me, please.”

He exhaled, content with your answer and subsequent request. He drew his hips back far enough to nearly pull out of you, before slamming back against you and bottoming out completely. You let out a moan, and his free hand covered your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, baby” he whispered.

You nodded underneath his hand, remembering all the other people in the house, and he pulled it away from your mouth before pushing two fingers through your lips.

“That’ll keep you busy, right?” He smiled and you moaned softly around his fingers, tongue circling them behind your lips.

Damien copied his initial sharp thrust, pushing into you with enough force to move you up the bed repeatedly, watching the way your breasts bounced with the movement. Letting go of your hands briefly, he brought one of your legs up to his shoulders, deepening the position, and you whimpered around the fingers in your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect. Sound so pretty, baby” he groaned, grinding his hips against you to get a feel for how deep he was inside of you, “So pretty letting me fuck you like this.”

He took his fingers from your mouth, toying with your nipples and using the residual spit to lubricate his movements. His other hand left your wrists, focused now on holding himself above you while he drove in and out of you.

You squirmed under him, overstimulated and needy, and your newly freed hands grabbed at whatever they could hold onto; one gripping his arm, nails leaving crescents in his skin, while the other fisted the sheets, and Damien took note of the way your face contorted when his thrusts became rougher.

“You like that?” His voice was as kind as it usually was, but with an edge to it now, driving into you hard. “That feel good, baby?”

Your moans were increasingly high-pitched, and all you could offer was a jumble of reassuring whines. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, lips meeting for a feverish, passionate kiss. He bit your bottom lip, keeping it between his teeth and tugging at it, before letting his tongue push forward into your mouth.

You moaned into him, his cock pushing against your most sensitive spot. You arched your back, silently begging for more, and he followed your unspoken instructions, fingers finding your clit between your bodies and kneading tight circles over it.

You let out a ragged cry of his name, cunt squeezing around him as you came; he pulled you into him, arm wrapping under your body, to kiss you fervidly, groaning at how you felt clenching so tightly around him.

“That’s right, baby, cum for me,” he fucked you through your high; long, deep strokes at a much slower pace bringing you back down to earth, “Good fucking girl.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, drowsy and overstimulated, happy to be enveloped by him.

“Where do you want me, baby?” His thrusts picking back up slightly, eager for his own release.

“Anywhere you want,” you kissed up the side of his neck, whining at the feel of his cock as he dragged his hips back before sinking back into you, “Wanna make you cum, please.” You rubbed your cheek against his, the friction from his short stubble soothing you.

“You want me to cum for you?” Even now, he kept teasing, “My good girl wants me to cum for her? So fucking greedy.”

You whined, wordlessly, trying to move your hips to match his thrusts, intent on pleasing him the way he had you.

“Spit,” he offered you his hand, and you licked his palm before spitting into it.

He squeezed you tight, using the arm still underneath you to lift you up slightly and get a few last thrusts in as deep as he could manage. Upon pulling out, he fucked his fist with the hand you had prepared for him, spilling over your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, and the thought of his cum mingling with your own between your legs.

Breathing heavy and uneven, Damien took a moment to collect himself. He leaned over the side of the bed, finding his discarded shirt and grabbing it; he wiped between your legs, careful to go slow and gentle over your more sensitive spots. He threw the shirt back over the side of the bed when he deemed you properly cleaned up.

“Thank you,” you spoke up, nuzzling into his side.

He hummed, kissing your head and moving stray hairs from your face. “Was that…it wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Damien,” you looked up at him incredulously, “It was perfect.”

“Not too rough?”

“The perfect amount of rough.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Did you mean what you said?”

“That I wanted to make you cum?”

“Well—mm. Kinda gathered that that was the truth. No, I mean, when you said you’ve wanted this…for a while.”

“Of course I meant it.” You fidgeted with the fingers he had draped around your shoulder. “Did you mean it when you—”

“Yeah.” He cut you off.

“You didn’t know what I was going to ask.”

“What were you going to ask?” He quipped.

“Now I’m not telling you.” You rolled your eyes, playfully turning away from him. Damien used the hand he had on your shoulder as leverage to pull you back against him, and you landed against his chest.

“Did I mean it when I said I wanted this, too?” He finished your question for you, “Yeah. I meant it. One hundred percent, I did.” He pressed his cheek against the crown of your head, “Was worried that wanting more was a, I dunno, like a…thought it would make you uncomfortable. So, I just—not that I don’t like being your friend—but I tried to behave myself. Y’know? Even though...” His gaze flicked over your face, "I always wanted more."

“Is this where you tell me that you orchestrated this whole thing by turning down the heat in here?” You joked, tired and satisfied and so utterly content that he, too, wanted more than the friendship you had cultivated with one another—thrilled that you had been on the same page all along; the initial paranoia over the implications of being attracted to the other, and now basking in the relief that your affection was mutual.

“I’m flattered that you think I have that kind of forethought. But no,” he laughed. “Just got lucky.”

“In so many respects.” You giggled, listening to his heartbeat against your cheek.

“Thanks for letting me stay.” He held you tighter, as if a loose grip would cause you to slip away from him.

“Thanks for staying.”

[kaivenom]

May I request something heart break high related please?

Pool Pals

Summary: a normal afternoon with Ant ended up with you two breaking into the Hartley pool

Pairing: Anthony Vaughn x reader

Warnings: breaking into places, usual parties and alcohol, they are canonicaly 18th so it's not underage drinking.

A/N: Answering this person (the first request on this blog) i am really happy to do this and contribute to increase the little amount of fanfics that this fandom has. Of course i will write about them and i will write more from now on.

Masterlist

At first, you two were hanging out on his garage, doing dumb stuff and not caring, then he said "let's break into the school's pool" and you said yes. It was exciting, just the two of you breaking the chains of your high school and like that, you were right in front of the pool. Everything would be dark if it wasn't because of the lights that came from the low of the pool.

"Oh my, we forgot swimsuits," you said slapping your forehead.

"Why we need them?" he looked at you with a smile and stripped himself into his underwear.

He threw himself onto the pool and gave you a gently hand to get into the water, with that adorable smile. You were a little self concious about entering with your underwear but at the end you did, and took his hand into the cold water.

"Are you shivering?" he asked you laughing.

"No, of course not, idiot."

You splashed him jokingly and suddently you started a water war. It was very funny, like time wasn't passing at all, each moment your bodies getting closer with the excuse of making the other one wetter.

At some point he wrapped you around his arms trying to made you stop, but neither of you could stop laughing, but his face was closer every second he twisted you with his arms. That little fight made the noise outside go unnoticed.

"What we have here?" suddently the door slammed open and an incredible amount of people entered the pool room, that voice was from Spider, "Man, you weren't answering my calls, i though you were dead, but when i tracked your phone and saw where you were i couldn't resist."

Now your relaxed oasis was full of people, drinking, partying and making noise. You didn't have the courage to get outside of the water and Ant was dragged with Spider. Now you are alone.

You spotted Amerie, Darren and the rest of your group and tried to get their attention. Once they saw you, help was provided and you finally had a towel to cover you up and went outside the pool. The next couple of hours you were with them, trying to ignore the fact that Spider ruined a beautiful moment. You couldn't talk anymore to Ant but you noticed his gaze on you.

"The police is here!!!!!" that was the sound of chaos, everyone started running and screaming.

Many people ended up on the pool trying to escape and you almost did that if it weren't for Ant's hand catching you. You two started to run and the towel fell off, you couldn't care less at that moment. The escape went for a couple of miles, until you didn't hear the sirens of the police anymore and you were sure you were alone.

That's when you realized the absence of the towel and tried to cover your body. Ant was fast thinking for once and got out his shirt to put it directly on you.

"Thanks," you said nervously.

"Nah, don't worry, it looks better on you." both of you smiled.

His hand went to you face and carresed slowly your cheek, his lips met yours in a sweet kiss.

"I've been wanting to do this all afternoon."

"Yeah, me too, but Spider..."

"Don't talk about him right now, you want to take a walk and find a nice place to seat and finish our hang out finally?"

"I would like it very much, but maybe i should go by my house before because i don't have pants right now."

"Nah, you look very good like that, but i can give you mine if you want."

His hand interlaced with yours as you two started walking down the street and laugh at Ant's jokes.

[pensbridge]

S3 First Reactions 🪞🐝🦋🪶

❤️ Already fangirled about the whole engagement night - the hugs, Hyacinth!!!

Colin not being able to stay away for that long after their engagement announcement and immediately excusing himself at Anthony's suggestion is exactly what I'd expect of him. ×

❤️ Colin calling out Portia. "out of love." 😢

❤️ "OUR BRIDGERTON NAME" is so important, because it's reiterating that Penelope's getting to choose her family when the one she was born into is so awful

He was so nervous when she didn't respond to their new home.

"Because I love you...Pen." 😢

"Are you sure?" PEN, no 😭😭😭

❤️ That mirror moment (i love how he said "the way your eyes shine when you look at me..." callback to her complimenting his eyes) "...And other things..."

bxtch they stuck with the thread of Colin not opening his eyes to stay in the dream and Pen checking to see if it's real when they kiss

The eye acting of Nicola and Luke! (they are being doe eyes x the intensity of his gaze or w/e it is)

The gulp <3 Nicola

"You are so beautiful."

❤️ The first time!!!

"I hope my husband.." - Fran, AND John -"I would not dream of it" 😯 asdfjgkglyl

Kate & El (got their s2 vibes)

Ahh, the "Do I look a mess?" "You are my mess" was delivered so perfectly.

cute, cute, cute riding through town in carriage (no personal space)

The hand kiss in front of portia!

Colin handing Eloise the spoon 🤣

❤️ the charades game - the cutest thing (they're holding hands)

Also, fuckin Anthony being tooo competitive 😆

Peneloise rights! The back 'n forth in the game 😬

The panic attack was high-octane; the concern in the scene was cute xxx

❤️ Fran looking at John & Violet hating this story lol.....and then, me noticing her realization to another child in love

❤️ The look & collar tug in the church (polin is so dorky & domestic already)

❤️ Soooooo....the spontaneous dance in the church is better than I thought it was gonna be...their goofy footwork, spinning in a multitude of circles "dancing with MY FUTURE WIFE in THE CHURCH WHERE WE WILL BE MARRIED" bye

Part 1, the ton jokes and bullies them and Part 2, we just see people that can't help but get happy and giddy when they see their young love. Violet and Lady Danbury awwing at polin and embracing them in the park!!!

❤️ "I am going to look at the very fine wainscoting" -John, please! 😅

"Not every attachment must be dramatic and hard-fought." - Francesca 😢 bby, you're right

I legit went from this man has the crazy eyes ppl talk about to *tired eyes Wide-Open*... Bi Benedict?! ..I'm getting Bi Benedict?! (I was like: Why?Is?He?Staring?at?him?Like?That? (i knew i sensed the vibes! The Best Surprise!!!)

"This dance does not compare to a private waltz in the church where we'll be married." She's SO cute! "Well perhaps we shall have to add some flourish." Stop. km now (that's so him! he is so dumb; they're married already and dumb as they should be! ×)

Props again with the deaf representation & the sass when Miss Cressida enters the ball

"A scandal writer for a daughter. Can you imagine?" - Portia (i'm sorry i love this whole sequence)

Polin gets more perfectly dork w/stepping on feet being included during their dance at The Mondrich Ball (that's very them)

Thank god for Bridgerton giving us hour long episodes in this 2nd part.

❤️ Eloise admitting she's wrong (and so casually) 😢 ps i think they both have faults but i just love this

❤️ "The column began because I felt powerless in my own home." - Pen (well, i'm glad she said it!)

ok, now Pen admits her faults. all is right again

❤️ Irish accent again

"You are Lady Whistledown." This reveal was everything

omg, was this the scene where he wasn't supposed to cry, but did?! What would I have done without this reaction in such an important moment?! 😢

I love how Penelope highlighted the voiceless as she said she should with Eloise in her new edition of Whistledown

Violet to Agatha - "..but I hope you know that my care for you is not contingent on your aid." 😢 (she sees her)

This whole fight outside the modiste's. 😭

"I have been careful. You have been foolish.."

❤️ "I LOVE YOU" and he was shocked (an 'ily for you' moment) [i was not expecting the follow up to his line to go like that]

❤️ They deserve a hot passionate makeout before they are married where they get completely caught up after fighting.

"What am I chopped liver?" yes Anthony in this situation you are.

❤️ Violet calling in Kanthony for Colin marital advice

❤️ Yellow

The look at each other down the aisle.

❤️ Vows. Weddings on this show are usually so unhappy, but I appreciate that Colin is still so reassuring & clearly beaming about this when there is residual upset/confusion.

❤️ Eloise cryyinng

Ben's line to El- "..The friendship you have with Penelope... As the one you have with Colin." xxx (she doesn't wanna lose them)

"OUR child will always be a Bridgerton, but I should like them to know that they are a Sharma as well." fxck 🥲

"I should like to dance with my husband.."

The disappearing people in the wedding dance. like they're the only 2 ppl in the room! (Bridgerton either has it out for me [to cry] or loves me so much)

ANTHONY 👁👁 Marcus & Violet

Colin's hand caressing on Pen's face at the end of the dance they're really coming for me (bro did he almost kiss her?!??? i freaked out; had to rewind)

The queen excusing all non-Bridgertons + "Penelope, you are a Bridgerton now."

I kind of love that "Everyone except the Bridgertons are to scatter," but Lady Danbury's just there

GOD (I knew it as soon as it was coming) Eloise hugs Pen <3 🥲

ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod bi Ben

❤️ The hair grab!

This printer's assistant is on my shit list

SCOTLAND!!! JOHNCESCA

"It is not up to you what we do." 🤭❤️🤣 Colin mad but still ready to defend his wife (as it should be)

"I know my father was a good man and you are a good friend." Violet-Agatha feels

🙀He kept the letters!

💛John's words to Mama Bridgerton (her children's traits)

She said she was a fumbling mess in front of Edmund like 5 minutes before she is fumbling in front of Marcus

"Then how am I meant to help you?" ❤️ "By loving me."

❤️ Pen's love confession

"....to be a young lady to whom no one listens." - Pen!~Eloise shared look

Philippa + her "bugs"

😲 Lady Danbury x Pen (she knew! ❤️)

❤️ Colin's love confession (them crying together x)

El traveling with Johncesca

Mi-MICHAELA Stirling ... Bridgerton I swear if you are queerbaiting

OH MY GOD! Mama Bridgerton's words -FRANCESCA is fumbling her words.

❤️ Colin focussing on the hands in bed

Pen on top!

"Your father is always trying to distract with a clever word &..." "You think my smile is beguiling?" x "I could not have written without the help of Auntie Penelope." They are so obsessed with each other

Philomena?! did i hear that rt? omg Philippa

Yay we got confirmation of Colin's book! (I can only hope they're sitting in bed reading next season).

[lyneyswife]

GHOSTFACE BRAINROT

I know I said I’d write Wriotheslay smut next but I was rewatching my favorite franchise and got a bit carried away~

Ghostface x f! reader

{synopsis} Home alone and you get a call from Daddy Ghostie.

Word count: 1.7k

{content warning} 18+, NSFW, phone sex, masturbation, stalking and obsessive behavior,pet names.,

__________________________________________________

You had just turned off the shower.

The water's soft dripping filled your ears in the silent steamy bathroom.

As you step out wrapping a towel around yourself, you can’t help but notice the slight crack in the bathroom door.

You were home alone, parents were out on a ‘anniversary date night’ but still you could have sworn you left it closed, nonetheless, you brushed it off assuming it was nothing.

There have been recent reports of murders in town lately, some film student freak is trying to replicate the ‘stab’ movies again. Even managed to kill off a few of your classmates, a high school jock and some dumb cheerleader.

Not like it was any important loss for anyone, it wasn’t like you were trying to be unsympathetic yet you figured maybe everyone might have a better time at school now that, they aren’t running the lunchroom with their dumb clique, returning to reality. Wiping a small space in the steamy mirror to see yourself dry off as you ran the towel down your wet, warm skin that still had still lingering steam dancing off it.

{RING—-}

It was the house phone.

It caught you off guard, nearly jumping you out of your skin., Glancing over at the clock it was just past a little past 12.

Who could be calling at this hour?

Keeping the towel wrapped firmly around yourself you creep out of the bathroom over to the landline on your dresser.

“Hello?”

You answer the phone, it's stupid really to answer a phone call this late.

“Hello..”

“Uh-, hello? Who’s calling-“

“You tell me, scary night, isn’t it? With all the murders and all, it seems like it’s right out of a horror movie or something.”

“Funny, you gave yourself away Jess nice go to sleep you whore-“

{BEEP—}

You joke hanging up the phone and placing it just next to the receiver, a small laugh leaving your lips as you walk back over to the bathroom and finish slipping into your nightwear.

It’s simple really, just a simple pair of pj shorts and a little tank top.

In reality, it was nothing but the average pajamas for you but to him, You knew what you were doing.

Jess and you were both in the same class as the two recent murders, ‘Casey Richards and ‘Chad Anthony.’

They both were very sweet people, you and Casey even talked on occasion. Jess was probably just trying to scare you and get a reaction out of you, she knew how much you were getting anxious and paranoid about these killings.

Laying back onto your bed growing lost in thought until-,

{RING—}

Again? Seriously— you were gonna beat her ass.,

“Jess I thought I told you-“

“What if I told you this wasn’t Jess?”

You pause,

“Well then who is this..?”

You couldn’t help the small chill that ran down your spine and you subconsciously glanced around the room at all the dark empty windows.

You sit back down on your bed, leaning back against one of your hands as one holds the other snugly against your ears, why not entertain yourself with this for a bit, not to mention his voice was pretty sexy?

“Not Jess,”

He reiterated and you couldn't help but chuckle softly to yourself, biting your bottom lip slightly at the sound of his voice.

It caused you to rub your thighs together a bit,

those shorts sat perfectly against those plush thighs of yours.

God did he love blue on you-,

“You always answer the phone for strangers this late?”

“I don’t know, do you always ring unsuspecting girls this late..?”

“Maybe, or maybe just the cute ones who are dumb enough to answer.”

You paused, swallowing nervously as you sat up Straight, Was this a subtle insult or flirt? You couldn’t tell-,

“I like blue on you sweetheart it brings out your complexion.,”

You immediately looked to the window by your bed, was he looking in right now? Could he see you..? The phone was still in a tight hold you slowly leaned towards it looking out it until the sound of a static voice snapped you back to the fact that he was still on the line.

“I wouldn’t look out there baby, you never know.. could be a monster or something out there..”

He teased, his voice sending a throb between your legs your hand slowly reaching down to the aching excitement between your legs as you lay slowly onto your back.

“Y-you can see me right now..?”

A soft groan could be heard from the other end of the phone, and heavy breathing. Was he..?

You were going to take advantage of this-

“Keep touching yourself doll.,”

He stated in a firm tone seemingly ignoring your question as you slipped your eager little hands into the rim of your shorts underneath the flimsy lace of your panties.

“Just like that.”

As your hand reached your wet slick folds you gently and shyly ran your finger along them bringing a soft low moan to escape those pretty lips, god were you just perfect, and all for him.,

Pushing down and probing your fingers at the tight entrance of your eager little hole, drawing out a louder whimper as you tried to tuck the phone into your shoulder-,

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you, lift the phone back up.”

A small Whimper leaves your lips as you shyly raise it, a dark hue across your face. What were you doing? Are you really touching yourself just to the sound of his voice? The same man that killed your friends.,

Groans and heavy breathing fill your ears from his line. Along with the sound of wind and leaves rusting, oh he was watching you, and not only was he watching you he was getting off to you. But-, why did this turn you on so much more?

Running your delicate little fingers along the slicked excitement of your pussy as you ran a finger against your throbbing clit, this felt so so wrong but so good at the same time. God did you look good too, laying in your pretty little bed as your legs twitched and spasmed to the sensation of you playing with yourself to his voice.

He wished it was him too, to replace those fingers of yours with his own, he would watch as the slick would practically bathe his own pointing the tip of his blade against the plush of your thigh, not enough to draw blood but enough to dent the skin. Watching as you would writhe and squirm desperate to pleasure yourself against his long digits all while trying to avoid that pretty little skin from being cut.

Fuck you were just perfect, he wanted— no needed to have you.

A sharp moan of yours snapped him out of these fantasies, his eyes locked onto you through that little bedroom window you conveniently left open every night. You were just asking for it weren't you? Fisting his cock at the sight of this wasn't enough, but it would do for now., admiring the stiffness in his hand from his hard member before he continued to pump his hand around it, only imagining you wrapped around him instead of his stupid hand.

“F-fuck..So eager, bet you wish it was my cock instead of those pretty little fingers huh? Stuffing your cunt full while you scream, while I hold my knife to that pretty little throat of yours—s-shit...Do you want that baby? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?”

A loud Mewl left your lips as you pumped your index and middle finger out of you quickly, wet noises along with the sounds of your moans and whimpers filled the room, desperate to please yourself to the sound of his voice. God did you wish it was him, this total stranger— you have never wanted to be fucked more in your life.

“I-m gonna—”

You whimper, your orgasm building in your lower abdomen, an almost burning sensation that sends shocks and racks of pleasure through your body

Legs twitching and trembling., as your eyes flutter shut, hand shaking around the phone.

“Don’t.”

He grunted into the phone, his strong demeanor slipping as it was quite apparent that he was close, losing his grip.

That was until sudden headlights shined through the house, music from your parents' car blaring in the driveway as you immediately gasped and dropped the phone. Pulling your hands from your aching cunt, the feeling of your climax ripped roughly away from you as you sat up.

“S-shit..”

You mutter before a soft chuckle leaves your lips, snapping you back to reality as you run a free hand through your hair before looking at the phone you dropped picking it back up and slowly raising it to your ear.

“Hello?”

The line was dead, he must’ve hung up.,

You hope at least as you hope so.

Your parents come inside and you of course greet them after cleaning yourself up quickly, asking about their date and how it went before heading back up to your room for a bed, as you walk into your room you can’t help but notice a Polaroid photo sitting on your bed next to your slightly open, blinds obviously pushed around and shuffled from someone climbing in.

It sent a small chill down your spine as you remember for certain that you didn’t leave that there nor do you even own a Polaroid.

Reluctantly creeping over to pick it up, it was a picture of the prettiest cock you had ever laid your eyes on. The tip was pink and slightly swollen from obvious friction, soft cum leaking from the tip trickling down that girthy shaft, at the base sat a gloved hand that wrapped around it firmly, glistening with his own fluids., You could only imagine how that could and would feel inside you.,

Then the sound of a voice from the phone caught your attention, the same phone that you left on your bed earlier.

Raising it slowly to your ear all you hear is—

“That's just a teaser for what's to come, baby, don't worry I'll make you more than just cum next time.,”

Before you could even respond he hung up cutting the line, a small chill ran down your spine, reality setting in as you finally realized the seriousness of this situation. This wasn't just a creepy stalker, this was a killer, a slasher, a psychopath.

One who couldn’t wait to get his hands on you next time., just wait.

(If anyone has any pointers, suggestions or things you’d like to see me write pls do lmk !! ^~^)

[bloodredfountainpen]

Figuring It Out

Masterlist

Contains/CW: bbu adjacent, pet whump, caretaker new master, fear of punishment, offering oneself up for punishment (denied), mention of torture implements (shock collar, whip, muzzle), morally dubious caretaker

Everything has its price. G-22985- Cedar now, he reminded himself of his new designation- knew that. So, when Master Anthony ordered him to sleep on the couch-bed (of all places!) he knew he would pay for the privilege once the morning came. Still, in the wee hours of the night, when he knew he should have been alert and on guard, instead he focused on the sensation of the mattress beneath him, which was squishy and soft and so unlike the hardwood box in which he’d gotten barely any sleep while being transported. He enjoyed the blanket on top of him, which embraced him like a warm hug. He knew he was being bad, but how would Master Anthony know? Besides, he thought, Master Anthony hasn’t punished me at all so far, and I’ve done much worse than enjoy what he’s given me.

Motion caught Cedar’s eye as Master Anthony quietly walked toward’s the box that Cedar had come in. Cedar could tell that his Master was trying to be quiet as he rummaged through the items that came complementary. Of course, Cedar already knew what they were: A muzzle, a shock collar, and a small whip. Master Anthony had to know so too, it was common knowledge after all, so there was only one reason why he would be going through them.

It was time to pay, he resolved.

———————————————————————

Anthony had hoped, stupidly now that he thought about it, that by going through the box at night while Cedar slept, he’d be able to avoid another headache. Oh how wrong he was. As he pondered the sheer barbarity of the implements- seriously, why would they include a whip as a starter item?- he sensed a presence behind him. When he turned around to look, sure enough Cedar had somehow silently made his way off of the couch and onto the floor, where the he had taken up an all too familiar pose.

Anthony observed that Cedar was strangely calm, unlike the other times when Cedar had been prostrated like that. Those times, Cedar had been shaking and whimpering, terrified of whatever punishment he thought that Anthony had in store for him. Yet now, when Anthony had literal torture devices in his very hands, Cedar was silent and still, almost statuesque. If Anthony didn’t know better, he might have thought that Cedar was some sort of screwed up piece of decoration.

Anthony, still himself kneeling from his rummaging, leant down to pet Cedar between the ears as he’d done earlier that day.

“It’s alright Cedar, I’m not punishing you. Go back to bed,” he told Cedar, and as always, Cedar obeyed.

———————————————————————

The morning came much too fast. One moment Cedar was wrapped up in a comfortable, dreamless sleep, the next moment the sound of sizzling filled his ears. Master Anthony was standing in the kitchenette, frying something. So that was to be Cedar’s punishment then. Maybe Master Anthony would burn him with the hot pan, maybe force the hot oil down his throat or pour it over his skin.

Cedar tried not to show signs of fear as Master Anthony approached, plate of food in hand rather than the ominous frying pan, memories of last night still replaying in Cedar’s groggy mind.

He thought he was starting to understand Master Anthony, as much as a dumb Pet could understand a human, that is. Cedar supposed that, as long as he showed the proper level of respect, and offered himself up for punishment when he was bad, Master Anthony wouldn’t actually punish him. Cedar showing that he knew his place was good enough for Master Anthony. Well, if all it took to earn food and kind touches was some words and some groveling, Cedar wasn’t going to complain.

Master Anthony set the plate of food, stacked high with eggs and bacon, onto the small side table next to the couch-bed. Cedar eyed it with suspicion. Anywhere else, such luxurious food would be an obvious and easy test, but with Master Anthony, Cedar wasn’t so sure. Master Anthony was nothing like anyone else, after all. The rules were different in his house, and Cedar didn’t know if this time it would be a step too far.

“Sit up, I know you’re awake,” the command came, and Cedar obeyed. “This breakfast is for you, can you use utensils?”

Cedar’s first instinct was to say no, because that’s what the Handlers would want, but that would be a lie, and Cedar knew not to lie to Master Anthony. Instead, Cedar responded with a tried and true mantra, “Whatever pleases you, Master.”

————————————————————————

There it was again, that damned saying. According to the Owner’s Manual, it was one of several pre-programmed responses that all Pets knew. Anthony hated it, because he knew that Cedar was just saying it because he didn’t know what Anthony wanted from him. Well, Anthony knew what Anthony wanted; a straight answer.

“That wasn’t a real answer Cedar,” he informed him, “I asked you a simple question yes or no question; can you use utensils or not?”

He was trying so damn hard to be gentle with Cedar, knowing what he’d been through, but he hadn’t signed up to take care of a traumatized Pet, especially not one he felt guilty about so much as considering returning. Well, they say that with great power comes great responsibility, and owning a whole ass person was probably the most power he’d ever had. So, Anthony supposed, Cedar was his responsibility to bear.

Cedar, for his part, had scrunched the blanket in his fists and began to tremble again. Just like yesterday, when he couldn’t decide whether to stand up or not, Anthony realized.

“You can tell me the truth, I won’t be angry,” he ventured, hoping that words alone would convince Cedar to respond.

Eventually, the answer came, shaking from Cedar’s quivering lips, “Y-yes Master, I c-can use utens-sils.”

Anthony smiled, finally feeling as though he was getting somewhere.

@maenr @whump-blog

[kwebtv]

TV Guide -  May 30 - June 5, 1964

Ernest Borgnine (/ˈbɔːrɡnaɪn/; born Ermes Effron Borgnino; January 24, 1917 – July 8, 2012)  Film, stage and television actor whose career spanned over six decades. He was noted for his gruff but relaxed voice and gap-toothed Cheshire Cat grin. A popular performer, he also appeared as a guest on numerous talk shows and as a panelist on several game shows.

Borgnine made his TV debut as a character actor in Captain Video and His Video Rangers, beginning in 1951. These two episodes led to countless other television roles that Borgnine would gain in Goodyear Television Playhouse, The Ford Television Theatre, Fireside Theatre, Frontier Justice, Laramie, Bob Hope Presents the Chrysler Theatre, Run for Your Life, Little House on the Prairie (a two-part episode entitled "The Lord is My Shepherd"), The Love Boat, Magnum, P.I., Highway to Heaven, Murder, She Wrote, Walker, Texas Ranger, Home Improvement, Touched by an Angel, the final episodes of ER, the first episode of Wagon Train, and many others.

In 1962, Borgnine signed a contract with Universal Studios for the lead role as the gruff but lovable skipper, Quinton McHale, in what began as a serious one-hour 1962 episode called "Seven Against the Sea" for Alcoa Premiere, and later reworked to a comedy called McHale's Navy, a World War II sitcom, which also co-starred unfamiliar comedians Joe Flynn as Capt. Wally Binghamton and Tim Conway as Ens. Charles Parker. The insubordinate crew of PT-73 helped the show become an overnight success during its first season, landing in the top 30 in 1963. (Wikipedia)

Thomas Daniel "Tim" Conway (December 15, 1933 – May 14, 2019) Film and television actor, comedian, writer, and director. From 1966 to 2012 he appeared in more than 100 TV shows, TV series and films. Among his more notable roles, he portrayed the inept Ensign Parker in the 1960s World War II TV situation comedy McHale's Navy, was a regular cast member (1975–1978) on the TV comedy The Carol Burnett Show where he portrayed his recurrent iconic characters Mister Tudball, the Oldest Man and the Dumb Private, co-starred with Don Knotts in several films (1975–80), was the title character in the Dorf series of eight sports comedy direct-to-video films (1987–1996), and provided the voice of Barnacle Boy in the animated series SpongeBob SquarePants (1999–2012). Twice, in 1970 and in 1980–1981, he had his own TV series.  (Wikipedia)

Joseph Anthony Flynn III (November 8, 1924 – July 19, 1974) Film and television character actor. He was best known for his role as Captain Wallace Binghamton in the 1960s ABC television situation comedy McHale's Navy. He was also a frequent guest star on 1960s TV shows, such as Batman, and appeared in several Walt Disney film comedies. (Wikipedia)

[toriluvsnickwayne]

Getting Hooked

Chapter 8

Hook x Reader

(Slight) Darius Martin x Reader

Getting Hooked Masterlist

Tyler’s POV :

I walked into my dad's security firm, my mind still reeling from what Y/N told me. I couldn't believe someone had the audacity to lay a hand on her.

My dad, Taz, looked up from his desk. "Hey, son. What's going on?"

"I need to see the security footage from the bar last night," I said, my tone firm.

Taz raised an eyebrow. "What's going on, Tyler?"

"I just need to see it, Dad. Please."

He nodded and led me to the monitoring room. We scrolled through the footage until we found the guy who hit Y/N. I felt my anger surge again as I watched him strike her.

"Run a background check on him," I told Taz.

He nodded and started typing away on his computer. A few minutes later, he turned to me with a serious expression.

"His name is Chris Jericho. He's got a record, Tyler. Assault, battery, unattended court dates...this guy's a dangerous individual."

My eyes narrowed. "I'm going to take care of this, Dad."

Taz's eyes locked onto mine. "Tyler, you can't take this into your own hands. Let the police handle it."

But I just nodded and walked out of the room. I knew what I had to do. I couldn't just sit back and do nothing. I had to protect Y/N.

I got into my car and drove to Chris’ address.

Time skip

I pulled up to Chris Jericho's house, my heart racing with anticipation. I was going to confront this guy and make sure he never hurt Y/N again. I had been thinking about this moment for hours, rehearsing what I would say and do.

As I stepped out of my car, I took a deep breath and approached the door. I could feel my anger and determination coursing through my veins. I was ready for this.

I rang the doorbell, and after a few moments, Chris Jericho answered. He looked surprised to see me, but I just gave him a cold stare.

"We need to talk, Chris," I said, my voice firm.

He nodded, and I followed him inside. His house was messy and smelled like beer. I could tell he hadn't cleaned up in a while.

We sat down in the living room, and I got straight to the point. "I know what you did to Y/N, Chris. And I'm not happy about it."

Chris shrugged, a smug look on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I leaned forward, my eyes locked on his. "Don't play dumb, Chris. I have proof. And I'm going to make sure you pay for what you did."

Chris's smile faltered, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes. But then, his expression hardened again. "You can't prove anything," he sneered.

I smiled, a cold, calculated smile. "Oh, but I can. And I will."

Y/N’s POV :

I was working a double shift at the club, trying to keep my mind off of what happened earlier. Skye came over to me and whispered, "Isn't that Hook's friends over there?"

I followed her gaze and didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until I saw them - Anthony, Dante, Darius, and Andretti. They had slipped in unnoticed, and I hadn't even seen them come in. They looked out of place in the club, their suits and serious expressions a stark contrast to the flashy clothes and carefree attitudes of the other patrons.

Just then, Julia walked in and started chatting with Skye, distracting me. I took the opportunity to leave the room and head over to the bar, trying to act natural.

As I was walking, I noticed the guys sitting in a booth, looking around like they were searching for someone. They seemed tense and on edge, their eyes scanning the room with a sense of urgency. I made my way over to their table, trying to act calm and professional.

"Hey, guys. What can I get you?" I asked, approaching their table.

"A round of drinks, sweetheart, please," Andretti replied with a smile.

Andretti stood up and gestured to the others. "Y/N, these are the lads - Anthony, Dante, Darius. Guys, this is Y/N."

Dante's eyes lit up as he took in my appearance. "Well, well, well. Look at us, getting the VIP treatment."

Andretti shot him a warning look. "Dante, behave."

I smiled and took their order, trying to ignore Dante's flirtatious gaze.

When I came back with their drinks, I mentioned, "By the way, I didn't see Tyler around."

Darius raised an eyebrow. "Wow, already on a first name with the infamous Hook, huh?"

Andretti shot him a look, and Dante chimed in, "Yeah, Y/N, what's the story with you and Hook?"

Andretti's expression turned serious. "Dante, shut up."

Anthony intervened, his voice calm. "We don't know where Hook is, Y/N. We were hoping to find him or his dad here. They're both not answering, and Hook was supposed to go somewhere with us today."

I felt a twinge of worry and leaned in closer to Anthony. "Hey, if you guys hear anything, please let me know, okay? I'm a little worried."

Anthony's eyes softened, and he placed a hand on my arm. "We'll keep you posted, Y/N. Don't worry, we'll find him."

I nodded, trying to hide my concern. As I walked away from the table, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. Where was Tyler, and why wasn't he answering his phone? And what did the boys have planned that was so important?

Darius’ POV :

I answered the phone, and Tyler's labored breathing was the only sound on the other end. "Hey, man...need...help."

My instincts kicked in. "What's going on, Hook? Where are you?"

He struggled to speak, his words barely intelligible. "Just...come...please. I need...your help."

I looked at the others, and we exchanged worried glances. We made some quick phone calls to adjust our plans, then headed out to pick up Tyler.

As we left the club, Y/N caught my eye. I walked over to her and handed her a tip. "Thanks for the drinks, sweetheart," I said with a wink. I took the receipt and scribbled a message: "Going to your lover boy, wherever he is."

She raised an eyebrow but smiled and tucked the receipt into her apron. I hoped she'd understand.

We arrived at Chris Jericho's house, and my heart sank. The place was a mess, and I knew we were in for a wild ride.

We found Tyler inside, covered in blood. "What the hell happened?" Anthony asked, his voice firm but concerned.

Tyler's eyes were wild. "I took care of Chris. He won't be bothering us again."

We quickly got to work cleaning up the house and disposing of any evidence. Tyler told us what went down, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He had gone rogue, taking out Chris Jericho in a fit of rage.

As we drove away, Andretti spoke up. "Hey, Hook, we saw your girl at the club. Dante was flirting with her, and she seemed pretty into it."

Tyler's gaze darkened, and he growled, "Not funny, Andretti."

I chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, Hook, don't worry. We'll make sure Dante doesn't steal your girl."

But Tyler just shook his head, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. I knew this was far from over.

We dropped Tyler off at his place, and I could tell he was still reeling from the events of the night. As we drove away, I turned to the others and said, "We need to keep an eye on him. He's not thinking straight."

Anthony nodded in agreement. "We'll watch his back, like always."

Author’s note : Heyyyyyyy I tried something new and did sumones pov besides hook or yn I think I rlly like it but I will prlly keep it to just yns or the lads to make it easier for me. I I go vacation in 2 days so I prlly won’t be updating but I’m gonna add a part 2 and final for worth it either tdy or tmr prlly tdy at like 2 am🥲 also thx to @moniquelovesaewhook who supports all my stuff I post and write.❤️ That’s ok for now. Lots of love -Tori🥰

[bamboozled-shenanigans]

Now or Never- Huskerdust

@furryrainbowscreature, I promised I’d tag you once I finished the oneshot, so here it is!

This is just some cute Huskerdust confession/first kiss that I randomly came up with, and I really hope you guys enjoy it! These guys make me sick /pos, they’re so sweet 🥺💕

    Angel Dust is well and truly in love.

    In all his years, alive and deceased, he’d never thought he would say it— but it’s glaringly obvious by the flush of his cheeks and the spring in his step as he slowly makes his way downstairs, to the bar where he knows the man of his dreams— and quite possibly nightmares— will be.

    The letter clenched in his shaking arms suddenly feels as if it’s crafted of pure lead, and he periodically switches the paper from hand to hand to avoid dampening it with nervous sweat as he traverses the stairs. He’s terrified about doing this tonight, so soon after they’d both almost lost their lives and their friends… but something inside him wants it over it, wants the “now-or-never” to become simply a “now”.

    In a rare turn of events, Husk doesn’t have a drink in hand, and Angel is glad to see it. He offers the stocky man a smile that he hopes looks casual as he sits, setting the letter gently onto his lap and tapping the counter. Husk has turned his back to him, he notices, and he gathers his courage to speak, hoping his voice doesn’t betray his nerves.

    “One of my usual, if ya please,” he calls, and Husk glances around, grinning when he catches Angel’s eyes.

    “Comin’ right up, Legs.”

    Angel chuckles as Husk gets to work, making the same drink that Angel’s ordered every night for weeks, muttering each instruction under his breath as he goes. It’s flattering, almost, to think that Husk would remember something so small about him— but there ain’t that many people who stop for drinks daily here, he chides himself. Don’t get cocky.

    “Here you are,” Husk grins, setting down a glass and filling it to the brim with the bubbly, bright-green liquid. “One emerald isle, on the rocks.”

    Angel accepts the drink, the cold a welcome feeling on his warm palms. “Thank ya, Whiskers.” He takes a sip, relishing the springy taste of the drink, hoping that the liquid courage will bolster his confidence. It’s difficult to swallow, almost, and Angel finds it has the opposite of a desired effect; every sip makes him queasier than the last.

    It’s stupid, really, how positively dumb Husk makes him. Angel is no stranger to the ins and outs of flirting, as it’s quite literally his job, but something about the fellow sinner erases everything he’s ever practiced, every wink and sly comment that crosses his mind vanishing the moment he flashes him that goddamned smile.

    Hypothetically, it would be so easy for Angel to treat the man like just another actor in a shoot— flirt, fuck, and get on with it, as Valentino always says to him— but he knows deep down that Husk deserves better. He spent nearly an hour this morning pouring his heart out onto the paper now hidden in his lap, something he hasn’t done since he was alive (and twelve). It’s embarrassing, but he knows he’ll chicken out if he attempts to do otherwise, and so he steels his nerves and clears his throat after downing the rest of his cocktail.

    “Heya, whiskers?”

    Husk glances up, and the breath is knocked out of Angel almost immediately at the slightly curious tilt of his head, one of many quirks of his that no one but Angel ever seems to notice. 

    “Yeah?” Husk lets out a quick laugh at the sight of the spider’s empty glass. “Ya need another drink?”

    Angel sighs, setting down his cup. “No, actually…”

    This is it, Anthony. Don’t fuck it up. No pressure.

    “I’ve got somethin’ to give ya.” He sucks in a breath, ignoring the drop of his stomach, his instincts screaming at him. Without another word, he shoves the letter towards Husk, not waiting for him to open it before leaping out of his seat and hurrying back up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest as he slams his door behind him. He hears the faintly annoyed muttering of some guest he’s awoken next door, but he doesn’t quite care. 

    “Fuck,” he groans, dragging his hands down his face. “Fucking idiot, fuck, fuck.” Slowly, he walks to his bed and flops onto it, fighting the urge to jump right out the window to his left and run off into the hills— but because cursing at the sky and packing his bags hasn’t helped his situation thus far, he simply sags and waits for a tap on his shoulder, followed by Husk’s condescending face as he rejects him, leaving him in the dust. Fat Nuggets comes toddling towards him, and he cuddles the pig close, letting himself laugh at the childishness of his confession as he prepares for failure.

        What comes instead, however, is somehow worse. He startles as he hears three soft raps on the door, followed by a soft creak as it opens.

    “Hey, Legs?” Husk’s voice is quiet, careful.

    Angel sits up, blinking, flushing pinker than the suit he’s neglected to change out of. “Husk,” he answers, unsure what to say. There’s a certain awkwardness in the air, so thick it’s palpable, and just when he thinks he can’t take it, Husk breaks the silence.

    “That was really sweet… that letter you gave me, I mean.” The older man clears his throat, and Angel’s heart skips a beat as he watches Husk tentatively take a seat on the edge of his bed. “I… didn’t know you felt that way.”

    Angel feels his stomach threaten to climb out of his throat. “Ah, shit, Husk, I’m so sorry. I shouldn'ta done that to ya, shouldn’ta put you in this position… ya don’t have to—“

    He’s suddenly cut off by Husk leaning forward, silencing him with an abrupt kiss and sending his words flying away into the never-ending darkness outside. Angel gasps before reaching up to cup Husk’s face in his hands, returning the kiss with fervor.

    It’s nothing like the fake, ‘sexy’ kisses he has to endure at the studio, nor the disgustingly slobbery ones from Val that leave him feeling awful for hours afterward. No, the sensation of Husk’s mouth on his is like being perfectly devoured, every inch of his soul pouring into the kiss. It’s nothing short of divine, and he finds himself savoring every moment of it.

    All too soon, Husk pulls away, and Angel finally lets himself catch a breath. “Oh,” he whispers, much to Husk’s apparent amusement, as the other sinner pulls him into a tight, bone-crushing hug.

    “You’re fuckin’ wonderful, Angel,” Husk says, and Angel can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Thanks for lettin’ me know that you feel the same.”

    Angel feels his heart flutter once more, and he laughs into Husk’s soft fur. Husk keeps holding him close, and the two sit in comfortable silence. Fat Nuggets snuggles up next to Angel’s side once more, and the two of them smile fondly at the pig.

    “So…” Angel scratches Fat Nuggets’ head. “What now?”

    Husk shifts them both so that Angel is sitting in his lap, upsetting the pet next to them and causing the pig to scurry off somewhere else. Angel chuckles, wrapping his arms around Husk’s neck.

    “I say we get back to kissin’,” Husk suggests, and Angel feels his soul swell with love for the umpteenth time as he leans in once more.

[arkngth]

Antonio doodle/info dump since he was around last month :3

left is the most recent doodles before i knew he'd be coming back

right is the first drawings of him (coincidentally exactly a year ago from June 1st)

more uncolored doodles n sketches. i kinda draw Antonio the most, but i rarely post about him (been gatekeepmaxxing)

last drawings that i actually still kinda like.. i have much more, i just don't like how they look anymore lmao

rambling wall of text infodump below the cut cuz i am just so autistic about this character LMAO sorry i'm a yapper-

anyway, contrary to popular belief, Antonio is actually my favorite RP character. just in general. and i've never actually seen him live until the other day. unbeknownst to me, i was waiting for a whole year to be able to actually see him live, i think i was more excited about it than cc!anthony was 💀

which might contribute to my love for him bc i had to piece him together like a puzzle from everyone else's POVs and clips n stuff. so at first i didn't want him to come back bc i was afraid he'd be different from the Antonio i made up in my head... but then. i haven't sat n watched, at mostly full attention, a whole stream for 7 hours in a while LOL

when i watched cc!buddha's rdrp vods a year ago n saw Antonio, i thought to myself "oh no... Tony isn't actually my new muse is he...?". and for a while i didn't draw him bc i didn't have any ideas + i didn't really know how to draw him. but i did know that when i did learn how to draw him, it'd be over for me (i wouldn't want to draw anyone else, and i was right oops 😭)

my idea of Antonio is he's just a dumb, impulsive, silly little theatre kid that got wrapped up in being an outlaw bc of Wu n Dot after his house burned down. they woulda been moving around in old box cars wherever the trains took them. Dot dies before the events of WildRP(headcanon), and Wu to me, is the autistic kid that follows Antonio around bc he talks a lot n has charisma lolol. also, to me, Wu is not as evil as he was intended to be, he just follows in Sonny's footsteps who's calculated n violent. While Antonio chooses Cesare's path to be more diplomatic and focuses more on his reputation. Antonio can't win a fight to save his life, and i love him for it. he thinks he's scary n dangerous, but to me, he couldn't hurt a fly hehe. i mean, one of the first things he did in the crossing was host a talent show at the local theatre. i'm a big fan of pathetic men, what can i say.

speaking of, i love how pathetically in love he is with Renni. and i love how, despite how much they like each other, they never actually get together n still respect each other as friends. they are the embodiment of the saying "if you love something let it go, if it comes back its yours" but without the last part.. they are so tragic to me.

in the last 3.5 years of watching rp, i've never had any character or character dynamic make me cry. like, as much as i love how doomed n toxic Donnie/Lang is, i've teared up a bit, but they've never made me cry just thinking about them. but Antonio, n by extension, his relationship with Renni, has made me cry multiple times just thinking about them 😭 and yeah, i cried the other day when Antonio was thinking about Renni LOL

idk why he's the character that changes my brain chemistry, but uh. he is. i've literally never rambled about a character so much online, sorry for the great wall of text bc of it.. i'm usually masking so hard a lot of the time, but i've been wanting to talk about Antonio for so long with no one to yap to so, yknow.. he gets me to unmask and i also love him for that :']

[nerdygirlwithanxiety]

That's it I've had I'm gonna snap I've been dealing with it for so long I've been feeling down because of it and imma snap man I'm gonna explode I'm on my knees screaming I'm fucking sobbing.

Fuck artblock man.

Also....

*changes my version of will into a fake blonde *

Heh =w=

[japhan2024]

Hi there! It's me! 😅 Idk if you want to but, could you write some fluff Ianthony while they are writting the Food Battle script? Like they being cute and laughing and being dorks, some sweet shit like that? PLEASE 🙏🙏

Omg you give the cutest prompts, I'm MELTING. I will try my best!!!

Eye contact

Genre: fluff, angst

"Ian, we're so good together. We work. We... I want you to be happy, and stay happy, and I don't know how many times I have to say that I will stay with you forever, but I will say it as many times as it takes."

read on ao3

"The crinkles around Anthony's eyes when he smiles and laughs. His proud little smile when he talks about what they have accomplished together.

Ian looks sideways at him as they hold a Food Battle marathon at Ian's house. Lately, Ian allows himself to 'look' at his best friend more and more. It is hard not to stare, though. Because Anthony is beautiful. So unfairly beautiful. Being in his presence always excited Ian but he never dared to look at Anthony longer than a second.

But now, after everything that has happened... why not? Why not sneak a peek at that chiseled jaw, those inviting curls, and that olive skin, a mature version of his BFF he remembers from school. Ian catches himself sighing. And so does Anthony. As they lock eyes, Ian quickly looks away, smiling down into his lap.

"This scene is so dope, right," Anthony points at them on the screen.

"Yeah, you're right."

~

It's the next day. They're at Anthony's house to work on the new Food Battle script.

Anthony looks at Ian with soft, admiring eyes. He loves one thing most of all. Above anything in the world. And that is watching Ian's creative process at work.

"This is so dumb. But what if I just give her a comically large piece of chewed gum right out of my mouth?"

"Ew, that's so gross!! I love it."

Ian laughs. Not the reserved chuckle he gives other people. But the hearty, all-out goofy laugh he only shares with Anthony.

"So, the wife dies... Sorry feminism, but the twist is... YOU were the wife the whole ass time!!"

Anthony giggles. "That explains the seven-year pause so well, oh my god. But... If I'm your wife, how does sex work?"

Ian shrugged matter-of-factly. "Duct tape and an empty Gatorade bottle." He makes a plopping sound to match his zany ass explanation and sends Anthony into hysterical laughter.

"Fuck, we have to put this into the script! We might get demonetized, though."

"Hey, if we really cared about money, we would just steal TikTok videos and put them in compilations on YouTube for the rest of our lives."

"True. God, how I love this..." They smile at each other. God, Ian has such unnaturally light-blue eyes. Anthony notices that lately, Ian makes way more eye contact with him than before. Which is amazing, because he's always tried to get more out of him. More and deeper conversations. More emotion! But it seemed impossible.

At parties, Ian is outgoing, and Anthony gladly tags along. But when it's just the two of them, Ian likes to chill out with his thoughts. And that's fine with Anthony, but he can't help but want more. And now, since everything that happened, they finally talk. For hours!

"To think we both forget how great this is, writing together..." The sunlight that comes in from Anthony's window lights up Ian's eyes even more. Anthony wants to stare into them for all eternity. Those moments of direct eye contact send shivers down his spine, make all his hairs stand up and make him want to run some laps out of sheer excitement.

"Do you remember Star Stories?" Ian asks.

"Oh yeah, that shit was wild."

"Do you remember the George Michael one?"

They both laugh.

"Write about what you know, what you know, what you know..." Anthony mimics the old comedy show.

"There's this one bit," Ian says while laughing. Anthony loves it when Ian is so excited about something he already laughs at it before even telling Anthony.

"What?"

"It's when George Michael cries about his band mate leaving, and it's all dramatic, and then he's suddenly like, super unbothered and says "I'm over it." We should put that in. Like I'm crying about my wife for 1.5 seconds and then I'm like, okay let's do Food Battle, biiitch!"

"That's amazing."

"I know, I didn't come up with it."

"Shut up, you come up with brilliant stuff all the time."

"If you say so."

"Let's take a break," Anthony says.

They order some lunch and hang out on Anthony's balcony. They are drinking some flavored water.

"Any new dates?" Anthony asks suggestively.

"Nope." Ian doesn't elaborate.

"Ian, have you even tried?"

"I guess I haven't. But I'm really happy, Anthony. The right girl will come along, I'm sure."

"Or the right guy?" They never talk about Ian's bisexuality but Anthony wants to bring it up. He wants to know how he can help Ian get a date. Above everything, he wants to make Ian happy.

"Or the right guy, I guess. Or just a person in general. But boobs are a plus."

"Are you into man boobs as well?"

"Hell yeah! As long as I can suck on them... oh no, this is a terrible idea..."

Anthony's eyes light up. Ian's terrible ideas are genius 100% of the time.

"Ian, you must tell me..."

"One of the challenges should be a breast milk pump."

Anthony compulsively giggles through his words. "Oh my god! Ian, we can't show that on YouTube..."

"Can I at least suggest it? You'll say 'ew gross' and I will say, "Oh yeah, you're right... damn it!" And I'll look disappointed."

"We will work it in there somewhere."

Ian squints at Anthony. "Are you giving me more leeway because you're still cheesing about our reunion?"

"Maybe."

"You know you're playing with fire."

"Yeah, I know, hahaha."

"By the way, I'm still willing to burn Smosh to the ground with you."

"I think our fire will light up Smosh, warm the place up."

"With our looove," Ian says in his mocking voice.

Anthony kicks him fondly.

The bell rings: their lunch has arrived.

"I'll go get it," Anthony says, leaving Ian with his thoughts for the moment. He still can hardly believe how invigorating it is to work with his best friend again. It doesn't feel like work at all, they are just hanging out. This is them.

"Here is your gluten-free bagel," Anthony says with a tucked-in chin.

"Well have fun eating your vegan salad of misery," Ian counters.

"At least we are pretty and healthy!" Anthony uses his girly voice. He hasn't in quite a while.

"That voice takes me back."

Anthony laughs.

"For real though," Anthony continues in his normal voice, "you're becoming fitter by the day, the gluten-free diet is working, or are you also running again?"

"I'm hella running, dude. Every morning."

"That's awesome. I'm so happy for you, it used to be such a big part of who you were in high school."

"Yeah, it makes me feel so much better. And if I skip a day, I immediately feel worse. So it's kind of an addiction by now. Gotta go faaast!"

As they eat their lunch, a group of birds flies by. They are shimmering, bright green but their call sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

"Wow."

"Did you know birds have one hole for everything?" Ian suddenly says.

Anthony raises his eyebrows and snorts. "What?

"For everything." Ian looks him in the eye again. That sends Anthony and he doesn't recover from laughing until a few moments later, while Ian repeatedly says "It's called the cloaca, man, the cloaca!"

"Why are you so fucking funny, Ian. You're the funniest person I know. And that's saying something, with all our employees at Smosh."

"Aww, thanks Anthony! I think we just share a kind of humor. My jokes don't land like this at the office." He chuckles.

"Kids these days..." Anthony scoffs.

"Hey, come here, your hair is messed up. I'll fix it for you," Ian says suddenly and comes up to Anthony, closer than he expects. He puts the wayward curl that the wind has blown in Anthony's face, back on top of his head. "That's better. Now you can go back to being pretty again," Ian jokes.

"I love it when you do that kind of stuff," Anthony murmurs.

"What?"

"These little gestures of affection. I appreciate it so much."

Ian doesn't look him in the eye now. Anthony feels bad.

Because he knows.

He knows Ian likes him.

For all those years he's liked him. And he has sometimes taken advantage of that. Flirted with him so Ian would do work for him, that type of stuff. But he hasn't done anything like that since they reconnected. And he isn't planning to. This time, he wants to give Ian what he deserves. To truly appreciate him.

"Hey." Anthony takes Ian's hand.

"Don't do that," Ian tries to look the other way, but fails. They lock eyes once again.

"I'm being sincere, I promise," Anthony says. Ian blushes.

"Ian, we're so good together. We work. We... I want you to be happy, and stay happy, and I don't know how many times I have to say that I will stay with you forever, but I will say it as many times as it takes."

"That means a lot," Ian says. "Now cut it out with the sappy shit, you know I'm bad with that."

But Anthony holds onto Ian's hand stronger.

"It's not sappy, Ian, it's the honest truth. I love you."

Ian swallows. "Yes, and I love you, bro. I love you... and it's hard sometimes, you know? It's hard because when I look into your eyes, Anthony, I see... I see something I want to have. And it's this close, man. But I'll never have it and I've accepted that a long time ago."

"Come here," Anthony says softly, and pulls him into a tight embrace. He whispers: "I've done you wrong for so long, Ian. I want to give you everything... Anything you want. You can have it, whatever it is."

"Don't play with my feelings, Anthony."

"I'm not, I promise."

Ian slowly lets go, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Remember the staring contests?"

"Oh my god, those were always terrible hahaha."

Of course, Ian would break the tension.

"But this doesn't feel like a staring contest. We can finally look at each other honestly. Damn, it does feel good."

"Yeah."

"But Anthony, we have a script to finish."

"Fine. But promise me you're staying over tonight?"

"Fine. Idiot."

"Dumbass."

They go back inside.

[stitched-mouth]

List of Every Brandon Rogers Characters Ever

I don’t know why I did this. It took 4 hours. I haven’t seen ever Brandon Rogers video (shocking, I know) so some are missing. I purposely didn’t add any parody characters (the Kardashians, Annabell, M3GAN etc), but if you notice any BRCU characters missing, please comment so I can add them.

And obviously the characters not credited are played by Brandon Rogers.

David July is credited as David Burton on this list. I’m not sure when they changed their name, as they are credited as both on Brandon’s videos.

I can’t remember who Debbie and Doyle are but I must of put them on this list for a reason

Main Characters

Sam

Bryce Tankthrust

Bobby Worst

Blame/Sebastian/ Grandpa

Elmer

Cathy

Karen

Helen Brownstein

Stuff & Sam

Donna Phitts (Paulette Jones)

Damien (Onision)

Ms Cunney (Monique Parent)

Blame the Hero

Young Donna Phitts (Alariza Nevarez)

Duke Tuggler (Anthony Padilla)

Coach Best (Jack Plotnick)

Skinny Bitch (Kornbread Jeté)

Dill Flippo (Jonathan Hinman)

Family Doctor Office

Dr Gupta

Nurse Kavi (Nandini Minocha)

Lipschtiz the Clown (Paulette Jones)

Surgeon Miller (Jude B. Lanston)

Nurse Hole (Georgina Leahy)

Patient (Adam Neylan)

Another Patient (Jonathan Hinman)

Daniel (Jess Weaver)

Daniel’s Mother (Christine Sydelko)

Mad tea party

Mad Hatter

Cheshire Cat (Bazil)

White Rabbit (Benjamin Alexander Hall)

The Jabberwocky (Natalie Hawkins)

Flower (Jordan)

No one was credited in this video and most were personal friends of Brandon’s and not content creators so are nearly impossible to find. I had to stalk Brandon’s Insta to find these people.

BTW, Bazil (who plays Cheshire Cat) is a trans man who goes by he/him. Just letting people know because people are misgendering him and I assume it’s because they don’t know his pronouns.

Theatre Class

Alex Rimmer

Mason Lucas (Salim Razawi)

Oliver Hamilton (Stephen Weighill)

Linda Starford (Janet McCarroll)

Karen Shou (Karen Fokes)

Jamie (Adam Neylan)

Marlena Lewton (Rachael Ferris)

Dean Shaft (Tony Rogers)

Trump’s Emotions

Joy

Anger (Stephen James)

Disgust, Fear and Sadness were not credited in this skit and I can’t guess with all the makeup or find them.

Fashion

Jurgen Klausvonschwitz

Damien Ditsin (Logan Bubar)

Gretchen (Paulette Jones)

Sookilah (Judyth Brooke)

Dolorio (Devyne Carr)

Cheap Skate

Luxy

Lost Boy (Adam Neylan)

Chick Flick (the first Brandon Roger’s Video I ever watched)

Ashley

Ashley’s Best Friend (Vincent Marcus)

Ashley’s Crush / Cop (Jon Cozart)

Ashley’s Mom (Christine Sykdelko)

Teacher (Jude B. Lanston)

Doctor (Jonathan Hinman)

The Real Patient/ Dick’s Owner (Skye Williams)

The Real Patient’s Wife (Adam Neylan)

5 Year Old (Paulette Jones)

Since this video is now restricted on YouTube, I did this one from memory. I can’t believe I remember all these characters and actors. Thank God I rewatched it like a billion times when I first found it.

Mad funhouse

Mr Marbles/ Arlo

Dave (Jess Weaver)

Cliff (TJ Smith)

Sacha (Elise Christian)

Jimmy (Alex Diehl)

Manjusha (Nandini Minocha)

Mr Chronis (Jude Lanston)

Nuclear family

Barbara

Frank

Daniel/ Echo Noir

Unnamed Daughter

Devontay (?) (Devyne Carr)

The Office

Dorian Ditsin

James Shaft (Stephen Rezza)

Vishalam Rangan (Natalie Hawkins)

Jimmy Rustler (Benjamin Hall)

Craig Dildon (Stephen James)

Ernie (Seth Munson)

Diesel (David Burton)

Kevin (Davis Benz)

Regina (Georgina Leahy)

British Family/ The Mingeworthys

Lord Mingeworthy

Lady Mingeworthy (Georgina Leahy)

Cockwaddle (David Burton)

James (Davis Benz)

Blood & Makeup

Blah Blah the Clown

Whoopsie Wendy (Elise Christian)

Dumb Bitch Linda (Kornbread Jeté)

Blonde Bitch (David Burton)

Percy the Pervert (Adam Neylan)

Christmas Family/ The Hendersons

Patty Henderson

Paul Henderson (Stephen James)

Shelby Henderson (Caleb Shorey)

Unnamed Daughter (Elise Christian)

Spike (Logan Bubar)

The Devil (Paulette Jones)

Uncle Frank (Gabriel Gonzalez)

Notice how often Brandon forgets to name the daughter in his skits 👀?

Silly Cat

Clifton

Lenny/ Daddy (Jon Cozart)

Dr Williams (Sky Williams)

Wild West

Lucius Cowpussy

Vivian Delonprix (Georgina Leahy)

Map Maker Milton (Logan Bubar)

Lesbians

Darlene

Kathleen (Adam Neylan)

Power (David Burton)

Rock (Georgina Leahy)

Damien (?) (Logan Bubar)

Cheaters

Trina

Delilah

Gustavo

Unnamed Husband

Sleep Paralysis Demons

Felix

Iris (Paulette Jones)

Chad (Gary Nohealii Neil)

The Laundromat

Clyde Can

Bart (Joel Haver)

Debra (Mitsy Sanderson)

Barbara Ditliminor (?) (Adam Neylan)

The North Pole (included this group for fun)

Santa Clause

Mrs Clause (Christine Sydelko)

Gingerbread Man (Jude B. Lanston)

Female Elf (Georgina Leahy)

Male Elf (David Burton)

Head Elf (Kornbread Jeté)

Jesus (Jess Weaver)

Rudolph (Paulette Jones)

Tiny Tim (Jack Plotnick)

Characters I Didn’t Know Where To Put

Suck (Dominiq Badiyo)

Swallow (David Burton)

Beatrice Brownstein (Paulette Jones)

Judey Patoody (Jude B. Lanson)

Gloria Goopty (Kornbread Jeté)

Courtney (Liam Krug)

Ryder (Kassius Marcil-Green)

Barbara Worst (Katie Johnson)

American boyfriend (Ben Furney)

Ignaolo (Gabriel Gonzalez)

Debbie (Trevor Wallace)

Doyle (Trevor Wallace)

Carol Cox

Japanese Girlfriend

Deeno

Flint Dicker

Delmar Lysol

Humanoid Simulation XL-57692/ Simian

Double Licker Leroy

Paisley

Hole Bros

Rafał Sanchez Dimelo

Noah

Bryce is my favourite

[generaltrashshecox]

More late night au ideas!

Pop punk singer and metal vocalist au ajsj it's so dumb but AH

Anthony ends up watching Damien's bands set and enjoys it a lot. It's fresh and fun like most pop-punk but there's also something more but maybe that has to do with the cute singer. After the show Anthony congratulates him and asks if he wants to see his in a few hours. Damien's a bit stunned but agrees and he's blown away by his vocals. The fry, the screaming, the growls... Oh that does something to him.

That's all I got rn but I hope you liked this silly little thing

[riley-kore]

Loved your Lewis fic, thank you for writing it. the flow, the angst was perfect and the ending 😨 is it a standalone fic or will we know if y/n will leave or stay with him for the baby’s sake 😭

Hi Guys!

Really wasn’t expecting such a good feedback back but since you guys asked here is part two. Thank you so much for your support. Continue to like and follow.

If you haven’t already seen part 1 head over to my profile to check it out!

<3

You were just planning to take a drive. Ending up at the airport was not in the plan. Buying a ticket to London definitely wasn’t. Hopping on a plane definitely wasn’t. Neither was standing on his father’s doorstep hours later with just your handbag and tear’s running down your face.

“ Jesus Christ Y/N “ Anthony said when he open the door.

“ I’m sorry I didn’t mean to turn up unannounced I didn’t no what else to do” You said.

He walked you inside and allow you to have a shower and something to eat. You both sat in his kitchen.

“ You should call Lewis, he has been going crazy trying to find you. You just left the house, not answering calls or text, then you show up in London looking like you’ve been ran over. What is going on?” Anthony asked.

“ I’m pregnant and Lewis is cheating and I don’t know if I should stay with him or leave”You say.

“Before we even unpack that call him let him know you are ok I’ll give you a minute” he said then walked away.

You looked at your phone like it was an alien. You weren’t a coward but your anxiety was killing you.

Lew💜

His contact stared at you. You took a deep breath and clicked it. It rang twice before he picked up.

“ Thank God Y/N are you ok? Where are you? I’ll come get you baby I was so worried” He rushed.

“ I’m ok. I just needed some space” You said

“ Y/N no one has heard from you in almost a day. You just disappeared. If this was about the other night baby I’m sorry but this was childish behavior” he said

“ Who is she?” I asked.

“Who is who?” He asked.

“ Don’t play dumb Lewis the girl from the hot tub on the trip you didn’t even tell me you were going on! The one you probably spent your birthday with while I was sitting at home waiting on you!” I said

“Baby please” he said

“ You know for the first couple of days I honestly thought I could fix it whatever I did. I really thought it was me” you cried “ I thought maybe I could just play it off and be a good partner. Just tell me what I’m doing wrong please?”

“Baby I swear whatever happened between me and her was nothing. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come get you” he said.

“I’m at your dad’s house” You said

“You’re in London?” He asked.

Lewis was frantic. After not hearing from you for almost an entire day after you left for the gym in the morning he was certain that something had happened to you. It had been three days since his birthday and he was already dealing with the guilt of knowing he cheated and then missing his birthday dinner with you. After finally hearing from you, he quickly got on a plane to come to you. He love you with all his heart and he could lose you because of a slip in judgment. Pulling up to his dad’s house he was nervous could the last couple of years be wiped away because of his mistakes.

You talked and he listened. And he talked and you listened. But you never mentioned the baby; emotions were running too high to add that to the equation. You both turned in for the night but either you didn’t sleep. Which led you to this exact moment both of you in Anthony’s kitchen having a late night cup of tea.

The silence was deafening and it just tumbled out of your mouth.

“ I’m pregnant”

He froze.

“ What?”

“ I’m pregnant” you repeated dreading the answer to come.

“I’m going to be a father” he asked looking at you with tears in his eyes.

You took a deep breath knowing that your next words might hurt him.

“ Maybe”

“ What do you maybe? Is the baby not mine?” He asked.

“ Don’t you fucking dare accuse me of something like that. I said maybe because I don’t want to put my little girl through what I’ve been these last few days and I’m not sure if I should stick around to find out.” You said as the tears started coming once more.

“ Little girl?” He asked.

“Yes”

“ I’ll give you time to decide if you want to stay I won’t force you. And if you decide to leave it will break me but I’ll understand. But I’m begging you don’t take my child away. Please I’m begging you” he said taking your hands in his.

“ I’m heading home tomorrow please just give me a few days to think about everything and make a decision. Lewis even if I decide to stay I will never fully trust you again. I told you when we started dating that cheating was no go for me after everything that happened with Nate and you promised. Now I have really consider if it’s worth staying” you answered.

You got up and headed back to your room to finally get some rest. As you laid there, hand on your barely noticeable bump, uncertain of what the future holds two things were certain you had your child’s future in your hands and the man you loved heart in the next.