#cracks knuckles guess i have to do it myself

[stormyrainyday]

man no hate to sarai or ruza but i would've been ape shit over a lazlo/nero pairing... when narrative foils understand and complete each other i go fucking crazy

[rawrsatthetree]

Can’t believe no one’s wrote Tav/Durge showing up to the reunion party visibly pregnant with either spawn or ascended astarion.

[necromycologist]

"oh heehee they made feyd and paul have that homoerotic tension in the new dune film win for the gays" No They Didnt. they made it worse you utter fool. you twonk. you unroasted froot loop. you need to go back to tumblrina school you clearly flunked 'Homoeroticism of Violence' what about REMOVING the iconic throat stab scene makes any of this more homoerotic to you. do you not see the act of penetration by a weapon (in the underside of the jaw! a vulnerable site of the body! underneath the lips, where a lover might press kisses!) as a direct analogue to [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [THIS CONTENT IS NOT AVAILABLE IN ARRAKIS]

[777heavengirl]

spill your guts

sirius black x reader one-shot ! warnings: miscommunication? (apparently, that’s all ik how to write), friends to lovers, mentions of injury, no war AU! word count: 6,730 masterlist a/n: sorry I've been MIA uni is BEATING my ass and i rewrote this like 35 times, enjoy!

“I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with my quidditch bat” Sirius's clammy skin and the breeze that flew in from the window you had slightly cracked open when he awoke hyperventilating, caused goosebumps to crawl up his skin. You stayed quiet at his confession, your eyes trained on his face but his burned holes into your baby blue duvet. “And all he does is scream and cry for help-“

He took a sharp breath, this was one of those rare times when everything rotting inside him tried spilling out. For many years it was just James and Remus, Peter occasionally, but now he found that he couldn’t help but want to spill his guts to you. You stayed quiet as he spoke, scared to say anything that would cause him to shut himself in again.

”And maybe halfway through, I realized that it has more to do with me killing him than it ever did protecting myself.” Sirius never spoke of his father. His mother usually plagued his nightmares and it was the abuse he was more inclined to share.

Not his father's.

”He was really pushing his luck-“ His dry laugh, seemed cruel, but you could see how his fingers fidgeted, playing with a small thread on the edge of his boxers. The need to light a cigarette flashed in his mind. 

You knew the man was dead. You were with Sirius and the rest of the marauders the day he was buried. After everyone else had left the funeral, the brothers stared at the coffin on the altar of the mausoleum the rest of their family rested in. Regulus didn’t speak a word but gripped Sirius’s arm with white-hot knuckles. Sirius put his cigarette out on the shiny, polished wood, one last act of defiance. His brother nodded, almost as if in approval, but not quite, and apparated away with their family house elf soon after. Sirius linked his arm with yours. You didn’t ask how he died, nor did you ask about the brothers' relationship now that both of their abusers were dead and buried. Now that everything between them rotted away.

You never wanted to push the boundary more than he’d let you. Your relationship, if that’s what you could call it, was already precarious as it was.

Tonight had started like many others, Sirius knocking at your door. The flat you shared with Dorcas in front of the one he shared with Peter and Remus. And you answered, you always did.

“you look good tonight-“ You thought the way too small sleeping shorts were the reason he said so, it wasn’t the mismatched socks or the oversized muggle band tee you had stolen from their dorm fifth year. Definitely not the messy, bed-ridden hair. He had only seen your face, the glint in your eyes, and the pull of your smile. That had been enough for him to decide you were the most beautiful creature on the planet. “can I sleep in your bed?” You said yes.

You always said yes.

You didn’t have sex. But you slept together, his fingertips digging into the supple skin of your waist as he slept with his face buried in your neck. You often played with his hair, tracing spirals on his back until he snored softly. You wouldn’t have guessed that tonight would end up with him waking up, in a cold sweat and gasping for breaths, much less confessing his dreams of murdering his already deceased father.

You didn't hold that against him.

You took a hesitant hold of his trembling fingers, he seemed to welcome the touch as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

He pulled you close to him again after he laid back down. The window remained open with the nippy night breeze flowing in, but his skin eventually lost its goosebumps and his grip ultimately loosened, he was soft and warm and moldable now. He melted onto your side and you couldn't help but stare. At his perfect nose and perfect lips, the weight of the world that he held on his shoulders faded away when he slept, even if just for a few hours. 

You reveled in the fact that it was your bed he felt this comfortable in.

You hoped it was only yours.

-

Even the mornings where he had crawled out of your bed and your flat, the ones where you awoke alone and cold, he stayed in your head. He had imprinted himself on your mind, he had made it his home. Sirius Black, the man you were not dating, but the man you shared your bed with, occasionally made breakfast with in between fits of laughter. The man who had declared very loudly, and very drunkenly, that you'd make the perfect girlfriend at a party four months ago, and yet continued to ignore any hint that there might be something else between the two of you. Your bed felt cold the rare nights he didn't knock at your door, at this point your entire apartment called for his presence. Dorcas joked that he was your third roommate.

You always wondered if he had found some muggle girl to woo for the night, sleep in her foreign bed, and disappear in the morning. You wondered if he ever stayed 'til the morning in their beds, if he enjoyed them more than he enjoyed you. If your bed and your embrace weren't enough.

Until there was a knock at your door, the clock marked 1:27 am.

"A long time ago, my great-great-great-great-grandfather took something that did not belong to him," You wondered if this would also become ritual, him baring his heart naked. Baring his family's sins, his sins, to you. As if your divine acceptance would tip the scales, and that it would weigh his heart as pure. Your skin was the one riddled with goosebumps this time, as the cold that seeped through the window nipped at the thin material of your shirt and you duvet stayed discarded at the foot of the bed. You didn't mind it. He blew the smoke of his cig out the open window and turned to look at you again, unapologetically staring into your eyes. "And that is why I kind of look the way I do, 'm part Veela," you wondered if his confessions were a new level of intimacy you had gained access to. 

"As if I couldn't tell," he gave you a crooked smirk, the type he gives you when he's about to make some obscene, dirty joke. He didn't this time though. You visibly saw his shoulders relax when you made a quick quip, ignoring the heavy atrocity of his ancestors. It wasn't him after all, why would you hold it against him? He hummed, reveling secretly in your compliment. Maybe you genuinely did think he was beautiful. Regardless of the tattoos that now littered his body, or the scars of abuse that would never leave him, or even the random bruises that sometimes stained his porcelain skin, from his bike, from Moony's transformations, from everything. Maybe you even saw past the commitment issues, and unspoken words, or the fact that he left you to wake up to an empty bed often.

Maybe, somehow, you were able to look past all of that. All of him.

Sirius knew it was wishful thinking.

-

“Don’t look at me like that Moony,” Sirius said with a groan as he stood at the door, still holding the handle from closing it. Remus glared at him from the top of his cup as he sipped his tea, Sirius really wanted to skip the whole lecture, you woke up early meaning he also had to, and had to make the treacherous journey across the hall. He glanced at the clock on the wall, it glanced 6:30 am back at him. Why was Remus even awake?

“you’re a prat Padfoot-“

”I needed some sleep, it's not like we're-“

“It doesn’t matter, what you’re doing to that poor girl is horrible, if you really can’t sleep drink some tea, go to a physician” Remus turned his back to Sirius, angrily cleaning his cup in the sink, although he couldn’t see him, Sirius knew Remus’s face was twisted into one of disappointment and anger. “you know she loves you, and you use it instead of telling her there will never be anything between you-“

”I love her”

”You’re not in love with her, are you?” He turned the water off, turning around with a glare as Sirius stayed quiet. “She is.”

Sirius didn’t know what he felt for you if he was honest. He loved you, though. He had always loved you. From the days you ran around with the four of them around Hogwarts, when you passed notes in class, when you accompanied him on secret trips to the kitchens, when you helped clean his wounds at Potter Manor the summer he ran away. Sirius has always loved you.

Remus might think that’s worse.

”Stop sleeping with her and having breakfast with her the morning after, Merlin-“ he took a deep breath, his fingers coming up to rub his temples in frustration and the Welsh accent seeped into his words, “What the hell are you thinking Sirius?”

Remus knew he was being tough, but he felt bad. He felt bad about the way your eyes always trailed after the boy, and how you always stared at Sirius’s closed bedroom door when you were over for tea. You needed to be able to move on with your life. It didn’t help you and Dorcas lived right in front of them.

”Alright Moony,” 

“You’ll leave her alone?” Sirius refused to meet the taller boy's eyes.

”I’ll try”

- 

Sirius did not listen to Remus. 

He never did really, but he felt guilty now. He stared at you from your bed, you paced around stripping away the day, being a healer at St Mungo's was an arduous job most days. Some it was just kids with dragon pox and their mothers who came with worry stitched in their souls, doing rounds with residents that had been there longer than you, the older ladies always gave you candy. You didn't know where they were getting it from. Most nights you dragged yourself into your apartment late enough you might as well say it’s morning, and dropped, ruined and exhausted, on your bed. The worst days, it was back-to-back shifts of trying to heal curses, creature attacks, and mysterious maladies that left you drained and hopeless. Ones that made you fear the magical world that surrounded you. These nights you would've sought Sirius out, the way he did you, but you didn't need to. He was always there, somehow knowing and waiting outside your door. Sometimes, he was just exiting his apartment, going to knock on yours when you came up the stairs, other nights, like this one, he waited for you. He sat on the floor with his back against your door and his eyes closed until he heard your footsteps. He stood and greeted you silently with a kiss to your temple.

He trailed after you, into your room and onto your bed. So he sat, his back against the wall and the bottom parts of his legs hanging from the bed. He didn't say much, he observed as you sighed and sniffed, wiping your eyes as you muttered to yourself. He watched in awe as you took off the green healer robes they made you wear, your buttoned shirt coming off with it. 

“I don’t understand how hard it is to keep your kid away from places like those, the kid was barely five and now he has all these welts-“ you huffed in frustration as you stripped off your pants and walked into the bathroom, the door open so you could continue to ramble “how does a five-year-old get cursed? I had to call the Ministry-“

Sirius didn’t think he could deny the fact that he reveled in these moments, he couldn't hide it for the life of him. The ones where you were so comfortable with him, walking around in your mismatched underwear angrily rambling about negligent mothers and how now you have to testify at the Ministry next week. It was laced with domesticity and a cloying sweetness that covered his skin. He wanted to stop you and kiss you silly. To sleep with you, in all your naked glory, and not care because you’d be together. He shook away the need to keep you for himself. He shuffled close to the edge of the bed, his feet finally touching the floor and he picked up a trinket on your nightstand. He bought it for you when he visited France last summer. He promised Regulus he'd gone to see him a few days. It went well, he realized. He also thought of the fact he didn't tell you that's what he went to do.

”Sirius?"

"Hm?" he finally focused back on your words, his eyes flickering back to you and the small smile that formed on your lips when you saw what he had in his hand. 

"I said, what'd you reckon will happen to the kid?" your smile faded, and you picked nervously at your cuticles as you thought about him. Would they take him away? Would he be put in an orphanage? It was protocol you had no other choice but to call... and yet you couldn't stop thinking about it. You started moving around your room again, like a bee collecting pollen from flowers. Bees were cute, right? Sirius hoped you wouldn't think he was silly, Bees were cute, he decided. You grabbed a couple of items of clothing, collecting them in one arm as the other one massaged your scalp. 

"I dunno," he remembered to answer now, "I had never thought about it,"

He could hear you turn on the shower, but you padded back into the room as the water warmed. You looked at him, still in your underwear, the eye bags underneath your eyes were visible, your makeup long faded by now. 

"You never went because of your mum?" He shook his head, and you shuffled closer, the side of your leg pressed against the bed and your knee knocking with his as you looked down at him. Your hand went to caress his hair instinctively, his soft glossy curls sliding through your fingers easily. "I'm sorry no one noticed Sirius," this part was a whisper now, you feared overstepping a boundary you weren't aware of. He smiled at you, his hand coming up to pinch your naked side. 

You yelped and batted his hand away with a laugh. 

"She's good and dead now, I reckon it doesn't matter anymore-" He gave you a saddened smile, his nimble fingers grabbing a hold of your hand pulling you closer to him again. It was private moments like this, that confused you. The intimacy of it all, the way his lips pressed against the back of your hand and looked at you through half-lidded eyes. You were suddenly hyper-aware of how naked you actually were. You had been friends for the majority of your life, shame was long gone, but when you were so close you could feel his breath across the stretch of your tummy, it felt different.

"I reckon it does matter," You pressed a small kiss to his forehead and unpeeled yourself from him, "don't bury it all inside you, Mr Black"

You floated away now, in the sea of your anxiety over your actions, closing the bathroom door behind you. 

Sirius had a lot of destructive behaviors, he knew that. The smoking since he was fifteen, the reckless way he rode his motorcycle around, the growing collection of tattoos on his body, the tumultuous relationship he had with his brother, Merlin definitely the excessiveness in which he drank, not to mention the way he showed up at the Potter's every once in a while seeking James's comfort and unconditional love, ignoring the fact that the man was a father and had a million things on his shoulders. Lily didn’t seem to mind. At least he was a decent godfather, took care of Harry to perfection, it took a few tries but he got it. Loved him with his entire heart. But you, Sirius, thought you might be the worst of it.

The worst thing he’s ever done to himself is allow for this domesticity between you.

You came back from your shower with your hair slightly damp and smelling of your signature body wash scent, sweet and enveloping. The oversized shirt that covered your torso was almost long enough to cover 'til your upper thighs. It made Sirius’s lips curl into a lopsided smile that he tried to repress.

He was lying down now, starfishing on your bed as he stared at the ceiling.

”Are you coming to bed?” The clock blinked 3 AM at you, and Sirius reached his hand out. You walked closer to him, a small smile playing on your lips. You sent the towel you had been using back to its spot with a swish of your hand. Basic handless magic was a difficult skill to gain but Merlin so gratifying. 

“I forgot my pants silly,” he shook his head no, and reached for your hand with a bit more effort, grabbing a hold of it and pulling you down with him.

”Let’s just sleep, you don’t need those-“ He covered the two of you with your heavy duvet as you laughed, he leaned over you to turn off the lamp on your nightstand.

Yes, Sirius thought as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and threw one of his arms over your torso. You were the worst thing he had ever done to himself. He would never be able to let go, your hands stroking his hair until one of you fell asleep, the small ‘night that slipped past your lips just as your eyes fluttered shut. He'd never get enough of your saccharine scent that enveloped him like a blanket, comforting and warm. All-encompassing and suffocating, in each other’s arms every night, in the comfort of your room. 

Sirius knew it deep in his heart, what he had been afraid of for so long. Maybe Remus had it all wrong, maybe he was in love with you.

Because what else could this feeling be?

-

You tried to ignore the ache in your heart when you woke up to an empty bed. You tried to forget the fact that you’d probably do it all again tonight, and the next night too, all to bear the fruit of nothing. 

Dorcas shook her head and she pushed a cup of coffee towards you. 

“Don’t look at me like that Dorcas -“

”I love Sirius as much as the next guy but-“ you picked up the coffee and sighed at its warmth “He’s being a prat honey-“

”It's not like we’ve been having sex, he just needs some sleep” You shook your head and looked away, afraid that your eyes would betray you, “hell I needed sleep too”

”It doesn’t matter, Y/N you’re a healer get him a stock of sleeping draught and yourself some too while you’re at it…” She furrowed her brows but you stayed quiet, not daring to meet her gaze “I know you love him, but I’m not so sure he sees you that way-“

” I’m not in love with him”

“I didn’t say you were in love,” Dorcas sighed now, placing her cup on the sink and walking towards the small chimney in your flat. “Promise me it won’t happen anymore, that you’ll try to break it off”

”I’ll try Dorcas,” she didn’t believe you much, you didn’t believe yourself either, the Floo Flames engulfed her body.

It was hard to, separate yourself from him that is. Sirius Black was addicting, simply from the way he moved. Just watching him is entrancing on its own. Speaking to him, with his suave words and low tone. Everything about him, everyone craved to have a simple conversation, have even an ounce of his attention. Sleeping in his arms though, heart to heart? Now that was in a league of its own. 

-

You dragged yourself into your building, the day bearing down on you. You half hoped that Sirius would be waiting outside your door again, sitting waiting for you to lay in his arms. Disappointment added to the sack of bricks you felt like you were carrying when you turned to see the empty hallway. You sluggishly made your way up to your door, hoping to see Sirius's head pop out of his apartment door. Giggles came down your hall, as you fiddled with your keychain trying to find your key. The drunken whispers got louder and just as you grabbed a hold of your key you heard your name echo softly down the hall.

You dropped your keys in surprise as you took in the sight. Sirius stood rather close to a short woman, her bubbling laughter and her roaming hands didn't stop when he let his arm drop from her shoulders. All color drained from his face and his drunk, loose smile fell quickly from his lips. The girl that clung to him like gum to a shoe hadn’t noticed your presence nor how Sirius seemed to sober up at the sight of you.

You scrambled to pick up your keys as the blonde started whispering in his ear, starting to pull at him again. He called out your name one more time, moving towards you now, dragging the poor girl down the hallway with him.

“have a good night Sirius-“ 

You miraculously managed to get your key in the hole swiftly, turn it, open, and lock yourself inside just in time. Pressing your back against the door, your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest. You had always hoped that he wasn’t seeing other people, or meeting anyone else. And the absence of encounters just like this one had solidified that thought, you were properly convinced. Now though. You had just been lucky enough to not encounter them. You thought back, it was impossible not to feel like Sirius’s look had been one of guilt. Like he got caught. But the two of you weren’t anything.

You were painfully reminded of that fact tonight.

You hadn't noticed how fast or how hard your heart was beating. You felt like it was ready to break through your ribs, leaving you shattered and with a void in your chest. But it didn't do such a thing. No, you stayed perfectly intact, even as you felt the panic batter your chest and the notion that you were definitely not the only woman in his life torturing your heart.

"What's wrong?" Dorcas said in a whisper as she looked up, her large glasses sliding down her nose. The yellow lamps that decorated your apartment gave Dorcas's dark skin a low golden tone, like the type you'd see in paintings of candlelights and sultry lounges. Marlene was over today, her short, bleached blonde strands fanning over her face as she slept with her head on Dorcas's lap, her arms wrapped around the girl's waist.  If it had been any other time you would've run for the muggle Polaroid camera Lily bought you, flashing a picture of the two of them.

"Sirius was just outside with some girl," Dorcas gasped now and shot up, dropping Marlene's head on the couch. The blonde groaned awake and asked what was wrong.

"Sirius brought home a girl" The blonde shot up as well and the girlfriends ran to the door, trying to look through the peephole. "Well this whole thing has gone arse over tit hasn't it?" Marlene pushed Dorcas off for her turn at the peephole. 

"There's no 'thing' between us anyway"

"Well, shit" The blonde outside kept pawing at Sirius, trying to reach his face, to eat it Marlene guessed. He stared at the door, trying to hold the girl who stuck to him back. Marlene felt as if she was in a staring competition. She knew Sirius couldn’t see her but she still liked the thought that she’d win.

Dorcas was the first to peel herself off of the door and pull you into a tight embrace. Her hand rubbed circles on your back and Marlene followed, embracing the two of you. They smelled coconut-y and sweet, even the remainder of Marlene's stronger perfume wafted over you ever so slightly. It was grounding, really, to be hugged tightly by your closest friends, the smell of home, the comfort of knowing that you were loved, even if it wasn't by him.

"I'll hex him for you if you want" Marlene's suggestion, although serious, wasn't necessary. You shook your head sighing. 

"He didn't do anything-" Dorcas flicked your head now, a frown forming on her face as the three of you parted. 

"Like hell, he didn't-"

"He doesn't owe me anything 'Cas don't be harsh"

"He's been sleeping in your bed for the better part of six months I reckon he owes you a lot" Dorcas gave you a look of pity now, like you were a wounded abandoned animal.

"I say we set his motorbike on fire," Marlene suggested casually like she was talking about the weather. You slowly peeled your layers off, as you dragged your feet towards your room. You knew the girls felt bad for you, but it was your fault. Who in their right mind would let Sirius Black so into their hearts, knowing that no commitment would ever come from it? 

You. 

You would. 

From his muscles softened under your touch, his warmth spreading to your body, to the way he mumbled in his sleep. It was something your soul craved to see, to feel, to hear. He had bewitched you, without you wanting him to, without meaning to allow him. You threw yourself on your bed, starfished and in your underwear, freshly showered. The water did not wash away the regret nor the hurt. They only made you think of coming back to Sirius in your bed, smiling and pulling you into his arms. Your sheets were cold, and tucked in neatly, very unlike the cozy mess Sirius usually made of it. So you stared, long and hard at the white of your ceiling. You prayed sleep would take you, you were exhausted. Like your body had been beaten, like your heart had split in two. 

No such sleep would overtake you. Instead, you could hear frantic knocks on your front door, your muscles twitched but you didn't dare move, like if you breathed he'd know. You heard Dorcas rip the door open, the force of it reverberating through your small flat. 

"You got some balls coming here," It was muffled, but you could still hear the venom in her voice. She didn't let him speak. "You're going to die cold, sad, and alone Black— don't you ever forget it" She threw the door closed now, the bang shaking your room again. It was jarring to hear that, especially from someone as sweet as Dorcas was, and she meant it. Hell, you felt like she would make sure of it, no matter the cost. 

"Sweetheart-" Dorcas spoke through the door, her knuckles grazing the wood but not quite knocking. You didn't answer.

A muffled she must be asleep, and you felt like you could breathe again. You knew Sirius wouldn't end up alone. If he did romantically, the friendships in his life would fulfill that void anyway. He had a family. Most of your friends were his, and you knew, that you could never ask any of them to walk around the uncomfortable wall that seemed to form between you, or god forbid pick sides. It was stupid, you knew there was no reason you should be upset. You were not together. You weren't anything to him, and he wasn't supposed to be to you.

But oh he was. He was everything.

-

On nights like these, you thought you might reach your limit and have to be admitted into the psychiatric ward of St Mungo's yourself. You felt sweaty, and the stuffy healer robes didn't help to ease the heat that crawled up your skin. Your hair felt frizzy and out of place, and your buttoned-up shirt felt like it was choking you, but you couldn't stop. You couldn't afford to nor could the patients that kept coming in. The St Mungo's emergency room was nothing short of a battleground, it was vile and the worst turn to get. Especially during the overnight shift. These were the types of shifts that made you second guess your career choice, the ones that made you want to throw in the towel and drag yourself back into your apartment and never come out. 

"Y/N come on, they're bringing in a flying vehicle accident-" you frowned as you let your turn partner drag you towards one of the newly entered patients. For the first time that shift, you felt dread crawl up your throat, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Sirius lying unconscious on the bed. For a second you thought you had forgotten how to breathe, your fingertips felt numb and your ears rang. His perfect nose was bloody, his perfect lip bruised and split. There were scrapes on his cheeks, and his jeans had been ripped and stained red. It wasn't noticeable at first, but the metallic smell and the caked-on blood on his black jacket became visible as you approached, it all made it clear, it had been bad.

You couldn't understand what your partner was telling you, the ringing in your ears too loud for you to make out the words, but as they moved Sirius onto a proper bed, it all came crashing down again. Repeated prayers of no's rang through your head along with pleas to a higher power to let this be a nightmare, one you'd wake up from cold and sweaty but knowing he's safe. No such relief came, and your fingertips buzzed with electricity once again, moving so fast it was like you moved at two times speed. You couldn't think of anything but prayers, to what? You didn't know, but you did so nevertheless. To the stars, and the heavens, or the magic that ran through your blood, through his. You didn't know. But you muttered words of hope and love, as you cleaned his wounds, hoping he'd hear you.

You busied yourself and basically assigned yourself to his care, after they moved him out of the ER, into one of the beds in the rows of other patients divided by sheets. You barely left his side, just to shower and change into the spare clothes Dorcas had brought you reluctantly, mildly upset you were taking care of Sirius. You ate next to him, talked to him, read your favorite poems, and hummed his favorite songs. He mumbled here and there, and his eyes would flutter sometimes which you took as a good sign but the tension didn't leave your shoulders, and your prayers never ended.

James, Remus, and Peter passed by, dropping some baked goods off and comforting you with teary hugs. 

"I told him that bloody bike would kill him-" Remus said as he shook his head and sat next to Sirius for a bit, his hand on the boy's knee.

"How's he doing doc?" you rolled your eyes, amusement played in James's eyes at the pull of your lips. He had always secretly been a worrywart, but he played it off well as if his heart didn't almost beat out of his chest when he got the call.

"As long as he wakes up he'll be fine-" He smiled genuinely now, "Few broken bones," He hummed, looking at Remus and Peter huddled next to Sirius's bed.

"few broken bones hm? wouldn't be the first time." You talked for a while, each one of you ignoring the nagging feeling of worry. Sirius's boisterous laugh was poignantly missing from the conversation. But soon enough, James's father's duties called and he pressed a kiss on Sirius's forehead and one on yours very fatherlike and apparated away, Remus and Peter gathered themselves up as well not long after.

"Call if anything, okay doll?" Remus pulled you into a tight hug, his lips pressing against your temple as well. Peter gave you a small hug, his eyes trailing over Sirius's form sadly. 

You were left alone again, the window panes that surrounded the hall letting some moonlight in. Time felt like a thick jelly, your eyes staring at the clock as you ran your hands through his hair, the exhaustion was quickly catching up to you. But the thought of another coffee made your stomach churn and your eyelids felt heavy like lead. So you gripped his hand tightly and laid your head against his arm.

If he woke up, you'd be there.

-

Sirius felt like he might be in heaven, the second his eyes fluttered open you were there. Your face pressed between his forearm and the bed, your hand tightly clutching his. He could feel the ghost of your lips on his skin and goosebumps threatened to crawl up his spine, his thoughts straying to your pout. Your closed eyes and your steady breathing made it clear you were sleeping, Sirius couldn't help but smile. He very rarely got to watch you like this, by some miracle he always fell asleep first and woke up second. You were so lovely, with your soft skin and the angelic glow from the light of the moon glaring against the curve of your face. If it wasn't for the stinging in his face or the way his ribs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, Sirius would've sworn up and down he had died and gone to heaven.

He squeezed your hand, and the weight of the realization that you had been taking care of him fell on him. Guilt clawed at his throat, he had broken your heart and you still took care of him. He'll never forget the look on your face, the surprise, and the tears that threatened to fall. There was no other word to use besides heartbreak, and it had been his fault. He didn't know why he had brought her home, he didn't particularly fancy the girl, but the alcohol made his veins feel warm and she smiled at him and the impulsiveness and self-destruction within himself were a shoot-first ask-questions later duo that ruled his brain. He realized that you deserved more. More than him, more than the empty bed he left you with, or the avoidance of feelings. Sometimes Sirius wished you'd forget him. It would be better for you.

To forget his face, forget his name.

Your eyes began to pry open, and he couldn't help but spill his guts again. 

"For so long I hoped I'd fall asleep at the wheel and crash my motorbike on the ride home-" Your heart jumped to your throat, your head shooting up at the realization he was awake. His words were raspy and as much as he tried they were barely a whisper. "But then you came back from your apprenticeship, and moved right in front and it felt like-" he looked away now, his fingers fidgeting with yours. "Like you were that light at the end of the tunnel." Your hand was still pressed against his. 

"I stopped wanting to fall asleep on the bike, I just wanted to fall asleep with you"

"You are an idiot Sirius Black" The frustration gathered over the last two days flushed your system, tears threatening to fall over "you are so reckless and so utterly stupid-" tears flowed down your cheeks but you wouldn't let them fall, furiously wiping them away with your sleeve. He looked at you heartbroken. 

"I know love"

"No," you shook your head now and stood up, his hand falling back to the bed "You don't know, all I do is worry and care, and you don't!" your laugh came out crueler than you meant but it came out nonetheless "You never care Sirius- Oh and imagine when I don't see or hear from you for days, and suddenly you're dragged in here looking like you're seconds away from dying-" you paced around as you went on, your hands running through your hair in frustration.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me" he stared at you now, hoping to catch your gaze. Hoping to see if you meant it, hoping to see, something. Something that would tell him what he so desperately wanted to know. 

"I always want to see you" You locked eyes with his, his stupidly gorgeous stormy eyes. And he knew, from the pain in your eyes, from the way your pupils blew the second you looked at him, from the way you softened, anger dissipated when you looked at him. You didn't understand how anyone could look like that, how even scratched up he looked like he had been carved out of marble. "All I want is to see you," you were close enough for him to reach for your hand, even with pain shooting down his ribs, he did.

"I'm sorry,” you sat on the edge of his bed, closer than you had intended, as he spoke, looking at your intertwined hands. “and I’m sorry about the lass too-“

You scrunched up your nose, “I reckon that is none of my business” and he wondered how long you had to tell yourself that until you believed it.

”I sent her home, nothing happened-“

“you can go out with whoever you wish”

”I only want you” 

You looked at him again, into his eyes, into his soul. Hoping to catch a flicker of truth. His eyes looked at you with hope and want, and you knew. Sirius would never lie to you, he might be a drunk, and emotionally unavailable, and Merlin knows that he’s a mess, but Sirius Black was not a liar, especially to you. He squeezed your hands, pulling them close to his chest, pressing them against his heart.

”I’m so in love with you, you drive me mad,” he said this last part with a laugh, pulling a teary giggle out of you. You couldn’t help yourself, the wetness of your eyes and cheeks coming without you meaning it to. He swiped a thumb under your eyes, a nervous laugh threatening to spill from his lips, a watery smile forming instead.

“I am regrettably, in love with you as well” You smiled now, looking away from his scoff. His lips curled into a full-fledged smile now, as did yours.

“Am I that awful?”

”I fear so Mr Black,“ you glanced at him teasingly, the glint in your eye he loved so much returning. 

“I reckon you wouldn’t want to kiss a tosser like me then,” You couldn’t help but smile, as the both of you subconsciously leaned closer. His hands cupped your cheeks as your foreheads pressed together. “Can I—“

You didn’t let him finish, finally closing the distance between you. He kissed you shyly, a trait you didn’t know he possessed. You kiss him soft and open-mouthed, a small hum coming from his chest. His fingers hold on to your face, desperate to keep you close, and and you revel in the fact that his kiss turns hungry like he’d never get to kiss you again. 

You part with a small satisfied sigh, foreheads pressed against one another and eyes fluttered shut. Sirius thought about the many times he wondered what this would feel like, to press his lips against yours. He had dreamt of this for months; when you walked around your room in your underwear ranting or every time you opened the door, he dreamt of kissing you in the mornings and late at night.

Sirius realized, as he pressed another kiss to your lips, he had dreamt of kissing you for years.

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x fem!reader.

the day after another full moon, blitzø comes into the office bragging about his sexual prowess. when you make one too many snide comments about it, he decides to show you just how good stolas gets it every month.

based on an anonymous request and far longer than I originally planned.

4k.

featuring: pure smut, bondage, oral sex (m&f receiving), breathplay, dom!blitzø, overstimulation, degradation, daddy kink, sex in the i.m.p. office, creampies, very minor bloodplay.

“Well,” Blitzø makes a show of stretching his arms out in front of him as he comes strolling into the office, interlacing his fingers and cracking his knuckles. “If the way his Royal Bird-ness was still shakin’ and droolin’ when I left is any indication, we’re good for at least another – where the fuck are you guys?!”

You roll your eyes from where you’re holed up in the conference room, suddenly wishing you had decided to work from home today. The last thing you were in the mood for was listening to your boss brag ad nauseum about his sex life; you’d had the latest of a long string of bad dates last night, and while they’d actually managed to impress you enough to earn the chance to come home with you, they’d proved quickly disappointing.

“In here!” you call out despite your reluctance, your feet kicked up on the table in front of you, and you fold your arms across your chest.

“The fuck is everyone else?” The imp demands as he enters.

“On a Sunday? D’you really think M&M are gonna come in on their day off just to hear you brag about how you fucked the prince again?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t ya?” he shoots back.

You wave a hand at the stack of papers piled up beside your shoes. “I pulled the short straw on paperwork this month. You’d remember that if you weren’t so busy thinking with your dick all the time.”

He narrows his eyes at you for a moment before shrugging and rounding the table to take his own seat at the head of it. You smack away the spade of his tail as it comes up to caress your cheek mockingly as he passes, and he snickers.

“Guess you’ll have to do, then. You wanna hear the panty-droppin’ play-by-play, or you want me to just tell you the gushiest top ten?”

You sigh heavily. “I’ve got work to do, Blitzø.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, tail waving back and forth behind him. A downright evil grin plays across his features and he sing-songs, “Ooh, someone’s jealous.”

“Oh, sure,” you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just sit here all day, pining and completely wet with jealousy because you’re off fucking the owl instead of me. It’s a miracle I wasn’t just getting myself off right here thinking about it.”

Blitzø cocks an eyebrow, his gaze sliding down over your body. It lingers at where your thighs are pressed together, your knees against the edge of the table. He smirks up at you from under his brows when his eyes return to your face. “Hey, tits, don’t let me stop you. You wanna rub one out thinking about Stolas squirmin’ on my thick co—”

“For the love of Satan, please shut up.” you say dryly, and Blitzø cackles. “Besides, if you were half as good as you think you are, you wouldn’t constantly feel the need to tell us about it.”

The imp scoffs, sneering. “Bitch, I’m twice as good as I think I am.” He jabs a finger at you, tossing his sunglasses onto the table in front of him. “You might know that if you ever unwadded your panties from your ass long enough to have some fun.”

“Because ‘fun’ automatically translates to getting naked with you.”

He shrugs a shoulder, that infuriating, knowing smirk still in place. “Don’t have to be naked. Got plenty of things I could do to you without takin’ off a thread, and you’d still be gaggin’ for more. Besides, you’re so hard up and overdue for a good bone sesh that I bet I could get you beggin’ for it just as much as Birdy-boy does in half the time.”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to deadpan despite the way his words have sent heat rushing through your body to warm your belly and your cheeks. Instead, you lower your feet to the floor, pointedly dragging your paperwork across the table towards you. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, boss.”

“Hey!” he jabs his finger at you again, standing up so he can plant a hand on the table and lead towards you. “I don’t come in here and question your skill in the sack!”

“You just told me I was hard up!”

“Yeah, but that ain’t because of your…” he stops, eyes widening. A broad grin widens over his features as realization hits him and you hold back a grimace. “You had a date last night!”

Damnit Millie. “I—”

He pouts at you mockingly, leaning closer to you and further into your personal space. It’s getting harder to avoid his eye. “What’s the matter, sugartits? Did they get your motor runnin’ then fail to deliver all the rough and tumble you wanted? They get you all hot and bothered, all ready to beg for it like a good little slut and then leave you high and completely fucking dry?”

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, pointedly trying to ignore the insinuation. Because fuck the bastard, but he’s right… and something in his tone is really starting to send a prickling over your skin that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Blitzø’s smile widens, darkening into something seductive as he moves around to your side of the table. He spins your chair towards him, taking hold of your knees and pressing them far enough apart to step up between them. You feel your face flush further. “Don’t avoid the question.”

You roll your eyes again, hands curling into fists in your lap as he leans ever closer into your personal space. His claws are still wrapped around your knees, and you feel them smooth up your thighs at a glacial pace. “Fuck, Blitzø, you’re such a fucking—”

His mouth meets your roughly, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s hard and angry and hot, and he kisses you with enough force to press you back into the chair and knock the air out of your lungs. His hands are still on your thighs, and you feel his claws tighten on your flesh. Your curse yourself when you hear a whine slip out of you, and even muffled by his mouth, you just know he hears it too.

When he breaks the kiss you inhale sharply, and he only moves back to meet your eye again. His claws skim over the inside of your thighs tauntingly, and even through your jeans, it makes you shudder the closer he gets to the apex of your thighs.

“So,” Blitzø says, and the sudden huskiness to his voice makes you swallow. His tail is switching back and forth behind him, an almost predatory edge to the movement. There’s a challenge in his eyes, and despite everything, it thrills you. “You wanna fuck me or not?”

You exhale a breath in the hopes of steadying yourself. He knows the effect he’s having on you, the cocky bastard. “…You’re gonna be fucking insufferable either way, aren’t you?’

He nods slowly, that irritating, self-assured smile widening slightly.

You sigh, reaching up to take hold of the lapel of his jacket. He snickers as you tug him roughly back towards you.

“You know if you suck, I’m never gonna let you live it down, right?”

Blitzø’s attention has already dropped to your front, his fingers releasing your thighs to instead slowly unbutton your shirt. You shiver as his claws just ghost against your sternum as they move. “You gonna talk this much during?”

“Prick.”

“Bitch.”

 He spreads your shirt open, walking his fingers idly up your stomach. He palms your breast suddenly, grin widening as your breath hitches when he squeezes.

“Seriously, though, might wanna save your breath.” he continues, pinching your nipple hard. He grins when you jerk at the sudden pain. “’Cause you’re gonna need those lungs for all the ways you’re gonna wanna scream my name.”

“Ugh, you’re such a—”

Blitzø’s mouth is on yours again before you can finish the insult, one hand still on your breast. His other hand bunches in your hair, forcing your head back almost painfully. He bites at your bottom lip before his mouth moves lower, teeth and tongue teasing at your throat. His fangs graze your pulse point, and you hiss at the pain of it, feeling blood well up against your skin. His tongue slides over the same spot, and he purrs.

His other hand tugs the cup of your bra down to bare the soft flesh to the cold air and to him, palming it roughly. You arch under his touch, tightening your hand on his lapel and tugging him closer. Blitzø chuckles against your neck, straddling your thigh, and you shove his jacket off his shoulders.

“Shoulda known you’d be an eager little slut,” he mutters against your collarbone and you take his face in your hands, bringing him back into another heady kiss. One hand moves up to flick fingers over the spines between his horns, and he groans into your mouth. “Just like Stolas… you uptight bitches are always—”

“Shut the fuck up, Blitzø,” you snap back at him, taking hold of his horn as his mouth returns to your throat and lower, lips sucking a mark into the curve where your neck meets your collarbone.

He grinds down against your thigh and you thrill at the feeling of his hardening cock against you. When his tongue finds your nipple, you gasp.

“Nope,” he replies simply, annoyingly self-assured, his breath teasing the damp flesh of your breast. Your nipple tightens further under the caress of it. He cups a hand between your thighs, rubbing it roughly against your denim-covered cunt.  He toys with it through your pants for a moment, pulling his hand away as soon as a moan slips past your lips. “Now, get your hot little ass up, slut. Supplies are in my office.”

“The fuck do you need supplies for?!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Holy fuck, Blitzø!” you buck up into his mouth, eyes rolling back.

He’s got you spread out on the desk, your hands bound up with rope and tied to the base of the legs at one end. The length of the rope has forced your hands up over your head, the ache in your biceps completely eclipsed by the sensations between your thighs. Blitzø is kneeling between them, his tail wrapped tightly around one and his hand around the other, your knees thrown over his shoulders. He’s lifted you up off the desk so all your weight is balanced on your shoulder blades, his other hand wrapped around your stomach to reach his claws between your thighs to torture your clit.

His tongue is deep inside your cunt, the sound of his feasting on you the only thing competing with your moaning. Blitzø groans into you, and you swear you can feel his smirk when you try to grind your pussy up against his mouth, hindered by the position he has you in. His tongue finds your g-spot and you whimper brokenly, teeth digging hard into your lip. You can feel your own release dripping down between the cheeks of your ass; you’ve come three times already, and your entire body is shuddering with the stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you chant through gritted teeth, brow furrowed. Blitzø is watching you from beneath his brows, eyes hooded and his claws tightening on your thigh. You strain against the ropes, the threads of it digging into your wrists, and he grins against your cunt, his tongue pressing against your g-spot just as he pinches your clit. “Oh, fuck!”

You cum again, hips jerking under his touch, desperate to get away from his torturous tongue.

You hate yourself a little for admitting, “Blitzø… I can’t…”

He snickers, flicking his tongue over your clit as he withdraws it. “Aw, c’mon, sugar. Birdy made it all the way to six before he was tapping out and begging for me to finally give him my sweet cock. You can last longer than that, can’t you, slut?”

The spade of his tail slides over your clit, and you twitch. You know he’s goading you but you can’t help but clench your jaw petulantly and nod, and he grins up at you.

“That’s a good girl,” he tells you huskily and you whimper as his breath teases over your swollen clit. He raises a brow. “Ohhh, you liked that, huh? You like being a good girl for daddy.”

You glare up at him even as you feel your face flush with heat.

“You do,” he continues cockily, tongue touching your clit for a moment and you shiver. “You love being daddy’s good little slut, don’t you?”

“If you…” you say breathlessly. “…If you need a breather, Blitzø, you can just say that.”

He snorts, squeezing your ass. “Uh, uh, tits. You wanna another round, I need to hear you say it.”

“Satan, you’re an asshole.”

“Yup,” he replies, ever so slowly circling your clit with his thumb. You exhale shakily. “Now say it. Tell me you’ll be a good little slut.”

You force yourself to heave an impatient sigh, trying to inject as much impatience into your voice as possible. Still, despite your efforts it comes out breathy and shuddering. “I’ll… I’ll be a good slut for you… daddy.”

Blitzø’s grin widens victoriously and he rewards you by returning his tongue to your cunt, and your head falls back against the desk. Your chest heaves as he quickly works you undone again, two fingers pressing into you.

“Alright, alright, don’t embarrass yourself, tits.” he tells you tauntingly.

“Go fuck yourself, Blitzø.”

“Heh.” he chuckles obnoxiously. “Keep talkin’ dirty like that and I might just leave you all trussed up and pretty like this for M&M to find tomorrow morning.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Fuck, you’ve got a slutty little mouth,” Blitzø groans as you swallow around him, choking slightly as the head of his cock brushed the back of his throat. “Satan’s taint, listen to you. You’ve been holdin’ back on me, pretendin’ to be all innocent.”

You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t choose that moment to thrust hard into your mouth, the length of him sliding against your tongue. You curl it obediently around him as he does, and his eyes roll back for a moment.  He’s kneeling between your bound arms, watching with hooded eyes as your throat bulges each time he fucks himself into your mouth. You can barely breath; you find yourself lightheaded even as you suck at his cock eagerly.

You’d just barely made it to eight orgasms without blacking out before he’d finally let up, childishly determined to take more than he’d expected. It had left you sweaty and aching against the desk, and you could still feel a small pool of your own cum against your ass as you’d finally been allowed to relax your hips down against the wood.

Blitzø has claws fisted in your hair, and you whine around him as he reaches down to squeeze your breast, pinch your nipples. Every now and then he lets the spade of his tail brush over your clit, and he snickers when it makes you jerk and gag around him.

“Fuck,” he moans, his hand leaving your nipple to take hold of your throat. He can feel his cock thrusting beneath your skin, and he squeezes, grinning devilishly as you let out a choking moan. “Baby likes being choked, too, huh? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

Blitzø plays with you like that for who knows how long, withdrawing his cock from your mouth just long enough for you to pull air into your lungs with a desperate inhale before he presses in again. You’re drooling and whimpering, body quaking against the desk as his tail starts teasing your clit again in earnest.

Your hips buck up under his ministrations, and Blitzø doesn’t stop until you gag in earnest, pulling out and smirking as you cough.

“That’s my girl.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Blitzø’s cock slides into your cunt slowly and you whimper at the feeling of it, eyes squeezed closed.

He’d watched, annoyingly amused, as you’d caught your breath, sitting back on his heels over you. Then he’d surprised you by producing bottled water when he’d untied you.

Still, he’d barely given you more than a minute before he was urging you to roll over onto your knees. He’d wrapped the rope around your thighs before retying your wrists, tightening it until it forced your thighs apart. The way he’d tied you forced you to sit with your back arched slightly, your kiss-bruised breasts on full display as you knelt on the hard wood. You’d normally find yourself embarrassed by the way you were exposed, but the way he watched you, admired you, instead made your mind spin and your heart throb in your chest.

You’d heard his belt buckle clink at he unfastened his pants behind you, surprising you by pressing an almost tender kiss to the side of your throat. His claws ghosted over your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Always knew you’d look good on your knees, baby.”

You’d turned your head as he had, catching him in a kiss that was all tongue and still-desperate need. He’d groaned into it, letting it linger for a few long moments before he finally broke away again. Now, he’s laid out beneath you, his hands clutching at your hips as he lowers you onto his cock. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back as he bottoms out inside you. His pelvic bone brushes against your clit and you whine. Blitzø echoes the sound with a growl.

“Holy shit, sugar,” he grunts, flexing his claws against your flesh. “Holy fucking shit, didn’t know someone could feel this fucking good…”

He urges you into riding him slowly, his claws trailing over the ropes crisscrossing the flesh of your thighs. The way Blitzø watches you grind over his lap sends sparks through you in ways you don’t want to address and your hands strain against the ropes with the sudden urge to touch him.

You want to see how he’ll react to your hands running over his sides, your nails scratching over his nipples. How he’d react to your hands gripping at his horns as you ride him. And you want to kiss him again, you want to trail your lips over his throat and feel his pulse under your tongue.

You want to work him undone that same way he has you.

Blitzø pushes his hips up into yours, hand retaking your hip. His grip is harsh and demanding, claws digging so hard into your flesh you wouldn’t be surprised if it bruised. He’s watching your breasts hungrily as they bounce with every thrust he makes up into you, and the hand still on your thigh moves to tease your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, Blitzø!” you cry out, voice rough with overuse and need. Your thighs tense, the rope digging further into your flesh. You’re so close to cumming again, and the fact that the ropes are stopping you from taking full control of the pace is driving you mad. “Fuck!”

“Fucking told you you’d be screamin’ my name,” he growls, head falling back against the desk. “Shit, you’re gonna feel so good gushin’ all over my cock, princess.”

You moan aloud, eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna need to hear you beg for it, remember?” he tells you, his voice breaking slightly and you know he’s close too. He pinches your clit, his tail wrapping itself around your middle. “C’mon… be a good slut and beg…”

You’re almost sure he’s so far gone that all you’d have to do is wait and he’d cum before he got what he wanted, but you need to cum too; you’re so close that your jaw clenches and your toes are curling. So, you give him what he wants. What you both need.

“Please, Blitzø…” you whine, eyes meeting his. “Please, I need to… I wanna feel you cum, Blitzø…”

He moans, claws quickening against your clit. The two of you actually cum together, his hips thrusting hard up into you. You can feel tears in your eyes as your orgasm wash through you, your chest heaving.

The two of you stay frozen like that for a while after he slumps back down against the desk, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You close your eyes, shuddering with each exhale.

Your eyes snap open again as you hear the shutter effect of his phone’s camera.

“The fuck did you just take a picture of?”

He grins lazily up at you, turning his phone so you can see. The photo shows his hips framed by your thighs; your cunt still stuffed full of his cock. Only the base of his cock is visible, his cum drawing lines down it as it leaks out of you.

You jerk your wrists against the ropes, the movement making you whimper as you accidently squeeze your over-sensitized cunt around him. He snickers, the sound breaking off as his eyes roll back at the sensation.

“Delete it, Blitzø.”

He shakes his head. “Are you kidding? You’re pure spank bank, tits.” his smile widens. “Speakin’ of…”

He snaps another photo, this one aimed high to capture the curve of your breasts. There are makes littering the soft flesh, let behind by his teeth and lips, and the spade of his tail has come up to rest its tip against your nipple.

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“Don’t I know it.” he replies nonchalantly. You feel his tail unwind itself from your stomach and he frees your wrists. The rope slackens immediately around your thighs, your legs prickling with pins and needles as blood returns to them. He rubs his hands over the flesh to help the blood flow. “And you fuckin’ love it.”

“‘Love’s a strong word for it,” you reply dryly, massaging one of your wrists with your other hand.

“Yeah, but it’s a four-letter word,” he says, tossing his phone over his shoulder towards his clothes and propping himself up on his elbows. You can feel him softening inside you as he hands you the water bottle. “I don’t even know how many letters are in ‘get all hot and drippy over it’.”

“Twenty-four.” you say almost immediately, taking a sip of water. You offer it to him; you can feel his tail brushing back and forth against your calf. It feels strangely, surprisingly normal to be still straddling his lap, naked and breathless, and you try not to let yourself question it.

“Freak.”

You smile softly to yourself at the fact that he’s managed to try and insult you even as he takes hold of your wrists and uses his thumbs to rub sensation back into them. He doesn’t even really seem to be aware that he’s doing it.

“You know I’m not helping you clean up this mess, right?”

Blitzø snorts, grinning up at you. “What makes you think I wanna clean up? How’s anyone gonna believe you let me rock your fuckin’ world if they don’t see the evidence? And you know I fuckin’ did.”

“Don’t get too cocky about it, Blitzø.” you shoot back. “How d’you know I wasn’t just faking it so I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Heh. ‘Cocky.” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Tell what’s left of your voice you were fakin’ it.”

“You’re so—”

Blitzø reaches up to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down into another fiery kiss. Your back aches as its finally allowed to bend that way again, but you barely register it with the way his tongue feels sliding against yours.

“Sexy? Fuckable?” Blitzø suggests against your mouth. “Ready for round two?”

You giggle despite yourself, letting your forehead bump against his. When you pull away, he’s smiling like he’s pleased with himself for making you laugh. “You might be, but I’m gonna need a minute.”

“Alright,” he tells you, his tail grazing over your thigh. “But I’m countin’.”

[charnelhouse]

I imagine Red telling Price she’s pregnant and his immediate reaction is “have you told Simon yet?” (He uses his real name because of it being a personal matter) and Red is confused as fuck cause he knew

But red breaks down and says yeah he’s freaked about it

And price tried his best to comfort her (I think Price is the male equivalent of the mom friend)

Price watches Red during the meeting. Her gaze is distant, her lower lip tucked between her teeth. He’s known her for ten years. He’s seen her at her absolute worst. He’s seen her holding her insides with her hands. He’s seen her after being held captive for weeks.

Never once had she resembled the broken thing she is at that very moment.

No - that’s not entirely true.

He’s only seen her this terrified once before, and it was during a mission. A civilian kid had been hit - blood spurting from his neck, and Red had lost her cool. She’d fallen to her knees, palms flying to the boy’s throat as she attempted to staunch the bleeding.

“Fuck-fuck,” she muttered, tears in her eyes, chest hitching. “You’re alright-you’re fine, honey.”

It had been Simon who pulled her away. “It’s over, duchess,” he murmured. “It’s over - you can’t do anything, love.”

It had rocked all of them. Cool, imperious Red Fox had cracked, splintering apart as she clutched the child’s hand. For Price, it felt like being privy to something he shouldn’t. Afterward, she'd hid in her room for a week. Simon had been the only one allowed in.

As he observes Red from afar, Price kneads his neck, disturbed by the number of knots he's accumulated from sleeping wrong.

Fuck - he's getting old.

Today, she looks just as scared as she did then, desperately tense and full of distress. When he ends the meeting, he walks over to her. She hasn’t left the table though the others have escaped to training. He pulls a chair out and takes a seat. It creaks under his weight, but she doesn’t appear to notice.

“What is it, Red?”

She blinks down at the table. There’s sweat beading her hairline, and he realizes that, up close, her pallor is sickly.

He gently places his knuckles against her brow to feel for fever. She doesn’t flinch.

“Red,” he says. “What-

“I’m pregnant,” she reveals flatly before dragging a hand through her hair.

“Have you told Simon?”

Her eyes dart to him, her expression surprised.

“You think I didn’t notice?” He chuckles quietly. “He follows you around…touches you whenever he assumes we aren’t lookin’. I’ve seen what he does to the people who’ve hurt you. I’ve seen what’s left of them.” Price sighs as he squeezes her shoulder. “You both can be bloody loud, too. The walls are thin.”

Her mouth drops open, but then her nose wrinkles in embarrassment. “I guess we can be.”

Price scratches his stubble thoughtfully before crossing his arms over his chest. “Never thought Simon would make noises like that to be quite honest.”

“I wouldn’t say-

“Yah know Johnny mimics him? Puts on whole shows at breakfast impersonating what Ghost sounded like the night before.”

“You’re lying!”

“I might be.”

He isn’t.

She shakes her head before offering him a devastating smile. She’s beautiful; a fact he always thought would hinder her in this line of work, but she’s only shot through the ranks.

“So have you told him?”

Immediately, she shuts down, and Price curses himself for diverting too quickly. He’d done a fair job of distracting her.

“I did,” she admits after a beat.

“And he’s run off to go kill somethin, then?”

“First chance he got.” She blows out a breath before dropping her face into her hands. “He freaked in the Simon Riley way: stone-faced, guard up, escaped to the hills.” The words are muffled by her palms, but he still hears them.

He strokes her back, mindful of the small skull tattooed across her shoulder. “He’s not upset. I’d bet anything that he’s just confused. You know his past. He thinks he’s a homing beacon for tragedy.”

“He’s not,” she growls, stubborn and hot. “I can take care of myself. I chose him. He doesn’t need to be in this constant state of anxiety that he’s going to lose me.”

Easier said than done. She’s being deliberately obtuse and he’s unsure why. She knows Simon better than anyone. She knows the dark, insidious things that rot his past. Tragedy after tragedy. It’s so horrible that it could almost be funny. Almost, but never quite.

Price isn’t sure how Simon is even still standing.

Red exhales sharply as she stares off into the distance - focusing sightlessly on the direction that Simon has gone. Always. Constant. She’s grinding her teeth, but her longing is blatant.

Ah. Yes. She’s why Simon remains upright and alive.

Price clears his throat.

“Aye, but a baby makes shit complicated, Red. You were the only person Simon had to worry about. He had one thing in the world someone could take from him. Now he has two.”

She frowns. “I don’t think it’s like that.”

Price leans closer. “He’s in love with you.”

She glances at him suspiciously, and he suddenly understands that maybe neither of them comprehends this small fact: they’re both batshit insane over each other.

“I’ve known him a long time,” he reminds her. “He’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”

The corner of her mouth lifts. “How can you tell?”

“His eyes say enough.”

After a moment, she grabs his hand. “Do you think he’ll be okay…” She vaguely gestures to her stomach. “…with this?”

Price thinks she may just burst into tears, and that is something he can’t have. He wants to punish Simon for leaving her like this - for being unable to stand his ground and reassure her. But he also knows that Riley has been through literal hell. He’s died in every way, but physically. He can’t blame the man for needing space to get his head on straight.

There’s a lot on the line - many decisions to be made. He squeezes Red’s hand, rubs a soothing circle with his thumb. He says what he believes: “He loves you, darling. That will be enough.”

[heartandfangs]

HALOS, HORNS & EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN.

GENRE Roommate AU, Smut, Hint of Romance

PAIRING Jongseong/Jay x Fem!Reader x Heeseung

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Threesome, Cursing, Jealousy, Breast worship (what’s new), Making out, Oral sex (f!receiving), Mention of food, Light biting, Daddy kink, Role play, Cum eating/swapping, Unresolved feelings, Dom!Jay, SoftDom!Heeseung, PowerSub!Reader, HeeJay are pervs

SUMMARY After several long months of ignoring the angel and devil living across the hall, said roommates take matters into their own hands to please you on your special day. 

WORD COUNT 4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE This one’s simple but kinda crazy?? ngl I REALLY got carried away with the wc for this first request, but I’m going to try and keep the others shorter so I can get through them quicker. Definitely felt less pressure while writing this for fun tho. Happy birthday 🪶 anon! I took some artistic liberties with your simple request lmao, but hope you and everyone enjoy it regardless (if it’s not ur cuppa tea dw!) 🖤🤍🖤🤍 

See end for cont. author’s note.

Masterlist

© 2021-2023, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere.

After an incredibly rough week of work, you’d completely forgotten to switch off your alarm last night so you could sleep in for your birthday. It was your long-awaited day. 

“The fuck,” You groaned before tapping the screen of your phone to silence the obnoxious sound. 

Clambering and scurrying footsteps could be heard outside your bedroom and in the shared kitchen. A nagging feeling in your stomach told you that you wouldn’t be allowed back to sleep any time soon. 

After about a minute, you noticed the sound of your roommates gathering outside your door— then knuckles tentatively rapping against it.

You pulled your duvet over your head and curled up tighter onto your side, refusing to answer. 

Another knock.

It was more insistent this time, annoyingly so. 

“What?” Your grumpy tone made it known that they were unwelcome visitors this early in the morning. 

Please go away…

Jay, seemingly unbothered by your attitude, cracked open the door, surveying your condition before swinging it wide open to reveal a birthday cake in his hand. 

Heeseung didn’t look any better than you in his black sweatsuit set and cowlicked ash-gray hair hiding his half-lidded eyes. Jay more than likely dragged him out of bed to help him prepare your surprise, yet he still gave you a smirk behind Jay’s shoulder and flashed you a peace sign. 

With a mischievous smile, Jay strode to the edge of your bed wearing a typical pair of gray sweatpants and a black tank, his lean arms on display. “Morning, birthday girl.” 

Heeseung made his way in and released a handful of red and pink balloons that floated to the ceiling; you’d think it was Valentine's Day or something. “Happy birthday, ___.”

Slowly, you dragged yourself up to sitting, keeping your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You rubbed your eyes, “I can’t believe I sabotaged myself with my alarm today.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Jay balanced the cake in one hand as he kneeled on the floor by your bed and ran a hand through his pale blonde hair, “And well, now you just have more of your day to enjoy. But first, cake.”

Of course, they knew better than to sing. You sighed and stared down at the simple, pink-frosted cake piped with red dollops in a heart-shaped border. 

In the center was written in red frosting:

u can’t pick ur dad

but u can pick ur daddy(s)

hbd!!!

You snorted and pressed a hand to your lips, raising an eyebrow at the two. Grammatically, it didn’t even make any sense, but you guessed it wasn’t supposed to. 

“What the hell is this? Which of you—” You barely managed to get out, shoulders shaking from laughter as you eyed Heeseung and gave Jay a look of scrutiny, “Or should I even bother to ask?”

In return, Jay playfully swiped the pads of his fingers across the corner of your lips, effectively smearing a bit of pink cream onto your skin. 

“Hey—“ Despite flinching, your tongue automatically darted out to sample the rich semi-sweet frosting, eyes widening in approval, “Mm!”

Jay chuckled and licked the remaining frosting off of his thick fingers, watching as you quickly averted his gaze, “I baked and decorated it. Obviously. But this guy stalked your Pinterest boards and saw something similar. So that’s how we got the idea, I guess.”

“Stalked? I just follow her,” Heeseung insisted, twirling the pink ribbon from a balloon around his finger. The two of them glanced at each other, and despite being touched by the sentiment, you paused.

While you had some pretty questionable content saved to the boards on your account, you definitely couldn’t have known Heeseung bothered to keep an eye on them.

What else did they see?

“Oh— how thoughtful of you,” You glanced over at the culprit, who suddenly found your carpet fascinating.

Jay cleared his throat and gestured the candle-lit cake towards you, its dancing flames taunting you, “Well, make your wish before the candle wax melts all over it, ___. Anything you want?”

“Hm,” You casually stretched your arms and shrugged off your blanket to reveal your gym shorts riding up your thighs as you crossed your ankles, “So if I wished for you both to leave me alone right now, you’d grant my wish?”

Heeseung untangled his finger from the balloon ribbon, blinking in surprise just as Jay’s shoulders slumped slightly, a flicker of hurt unexpectedly crossing his features. The blond pressed his lips together and stood to his feet. 

“Well, if that’s what you want. We’ll leave you be.”

“Jay…”

He nearly bumped into Heeseung on his way out but stopped at the sound of your sultry voice. 

Heeseung seemed enraptured as you gnawed at your lips and ushered Jay back with a simple look and tilt of your chin. The younger man’s gaze settled on the stretch of your thin cotton shirt over your breasts, and you felt yourself flush.

“I’m fucking with you both. Bring my pretty cake back.”

Both of them seemed to perk up as though they misheard you before trying to cover up how your choice words affected them.  

Jay huffed at your smug grin, “Go on then, blow it out, princess.”

With a roll of your eyes, you leaned forward and blew out the candles lined along the top of the rosy pink cake, leaving a trail of smoke in the air. 

“There, I made my wish. Thank you, boys.”

The last word seemed to grate on Jay’s nerves, with the way he haphazardly slid your cake onto your desk. 

“Hey, be careful. Why wouldn’t you handle your hard work with care? I’m gonna eat that later,” You quipped. 

“What was your wish?” Jay dared to ask, crossing his arms as he leaned back onto your desk. 

That earned him a weird look from you. 

“You can’t just ask her that,” Heeseung nudged Jay in his side and took the opportunity to sit next to you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Heeseung was a bit intimidating in size, but his proximity didn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest— or so you liked to tell yourself. “We’re not done with your gifts yet.”

You faced him and leaned back on your hand, placing the other atop your thighs, skin suddenly prickling with goosebumps. “No?”

Heeseung couldn’t help the subtle smile playing at his lips due to the unnecessary but predictable tension between you and Jay, “We know the extra attention isn’t your favorite, but just for today, don’t fight it.”

“What do you mean? Don’t fight what exactly…?” You continued to feign confusion, feeling your heart thump erratically as Heeseung tucked your messy hair behind your ears and dragged his soft caress along your warm cheeks.

You felt a sense of adoration in his touch, those languid eyes of his melting into your own so you wouldn’t have doubts about what was to follow. 

“This,” The manner in which Heeseung moved against you was gentle but confident, his moist lips capturing yours as though he didn’t want a second with you to go to waste but still knew he could take his time with you. 

How could you fight such a sweet kiss?

Not long after, Heeseung began to playfully prod his tongue along your inner cheek before swirling it against yours, slowly dropping his palms down your delicate neck, then even lower, until he found your soft breasts. The squeeze of his warm hands around them sent a jolt through your body and tightened the knot in your belly; you couldn’t help but arch your back to press closer to him with an airy moan.

It took a second before you realized the gravity of what you were doing with your shyest roommate and steadied yourself against his chest. “Heeseung—”

Then you felt a rougher set of fingers hook underneath your jaw and steal you away from Heeseung’s kisses. 

Jay stood over you and held you in place, pressing a frosting-dipped thumb past your lips, the flavor awakening your tastebuds once more. 

“Suck,” Jay commanded under his breath, which was somehow more intimidating than if he were to shout it. As he pushed the pad of his thumb down onto your wet muscle, you obediently closed your lips around the knuckle of his finger and met his keen eyes.

He nodded approvingly, “That’s a good girl.”

It was common for the two of you to always give each other a hard time, but if he ever overstepped his boundaries, he always made up for it through an unexpected warm gesture or a home-cooked meal the next day once things had simmered down. He wasn’t as much of a hardass as he let on.

At first, Heeseung appeared to be the most laid-back and benevolent of you three, but you always figured he was more of a maverick than one might initially guess. It wasn’t until he started playing clever pranks on you after a couple of months of getting to know him that you realized you’d finally cracked through that bashful exterior of his.

Although the three of you shared an undeniable chemistry that allowed you to live together as roommates without entirely wanting to rip each other’s throats out, neither of them had ever made a move on you before— and you couldn’t have ever guessed they’d make a move on you together.

Were there signals over the months that you’d missed? Looking back, yes, that might’ve been the case— but you’d chosen to ignore them due to an inability to make up your mind. Perhaps that’s why things were getting out of hand; you’d driven the two of them up the wall, and they had no choice but to retaliate.

All you could do right now is try to make it through whatever they had in store for you… and somehow, you didn’t mind that. 

“Hate it?” Jay asked.

Judging by your heavy eyelids and the sweet hum of your voice vibrating against his digit, he had an idea that it was quite the contrary.

“Figured,” Jay removed his thumb from your mouth with a pop and leaned over to pull you against his lips for a crushing kiss of his own.

He was all heat and didn’t hesitate to tug your lips between his teeth or shove his tongue against yours until you were red in the face, gasping for air and more of him simultaneously. 

“Mmh— Jay!”

He gave you a haughty look and continued to make a mess out of you, ruthlessly nipping at your ear and down your neck, knowing that you enjoyed the roughness of his affection. It almost killed you when he slowed down a bit, eyes flickering open to stare at you with his forehead pressed to yours, breathing the same air as you.

Right then, you felt Heeseung mouth over the fabric of your shirt, gradually coaxing your nipple to hardness. With the moan you rewarded him with, he grew bold and pulled the fabric over your breasts to take the one closest into his mouth, suckling sweetly around it.

You swore your nipples had a direct connection to your clit because it pulsed against your tight shorts and made you sink your fingers into tufts of Heeseung’s dark grey hair with a whimper.

Of course, Heeseung would be the one to make you give in.  

After seeing your lovely reactions to his other roommate’s ministrations, Jay promptly kneeled on the bed and caught your other nipple with his soft lips. You cried out as he released it with a smack, only to continuously flick at the tip with his tongue, sending you into oblivion. 

The two boys worked in tandem to pleasure you, tugging at your delicate nipples and laying kisses on your burning skin, the delicious sounds of their mouths worshiping your body falling on your ears. How they had their own ways of going about it made you feel even more cherished by the two. This was the kind of gift that kept on giving. 

“Oh my god, that feels so good,” Panting, you tipped your head back and squeezed your eyes shut, letting the pleasure wash over your body at being tended to with such enthusiasm. Your panties were growing wetter by the second. 

“I told you she’d lose it once we started milking her tits,” Heeseung commented, reaching up to stroke your cheek with his thumb, “Like the feeling of getting milked that much, baby?”

The way Heeseung addressed you made your stomach do flips. 

“Mmn, yes… You guys are fucking— ah— crazy,” You whined helplessly.

“We’re not the ones posting kinky shit to our public socials,” Jay deflected with a hoarse laugh, remembering something in particular he saw on yours that he liked.

He continued to suck and knead at your breast with the intent to make you swell under his touch, and by the time you were begging for release, he wanted you to be soaked through your little shorts.

With a bit of tooth and control, Jay gradually sucked around your areola until you let out a delighted yelp, in which he quelled your pain with laps of his tongue. He was extremely cognizant of how your hips twitched, inviting him to touch you further.

“Hngh— please, it’s not like I planted a seed in your minds. You were both perverts to start with,” You shot back despite feeling stranded in the fog of bliss, “Jacking off in the shower with my soap…”

Jay, in particular, froze at your accusation.

“I’ve used that brand my whole life and noticed each bottle went quicker ever since I moved in with you two. And then jacking off in my bed when I’m not home—”

You punctuated your slight annoyance by curling your fingers around Heeseung’s cheeks. That irked you a bit more than Jay’s shower antics for hygienic reasons.

“I can smell your shampoo all over my pillow, you know. Can you at least change my sheets out of courtesy once you’re done? Bet you wanted me to figure it out, didn’t you?”

The entirety of Heeseung’s skin above his collar turned a deep shade of scarlet, his large eyes shining from embarrassment. “Shit, uh. I-I…I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even do your laundry for a month.”

“What, so you can steal another pair of my panties?”

Heeseung couldn’t hide his startled expression. A few seconds passed before a smirk made its way onto his flushed face, and he wet his lips. “‘Course not …”

Jay cocked a brow at Heeseung having been exposed to the degree that he was. Really, the two of them should’ve known better. Although the blond wasn’t sure if there were more things Heeseung’s done that you hadn’t caught onto yet, he knew that to be so in his case.

“I knew it all along,” You sat up straighter and stroked Jay and Heeseung beneath their chin, spreading your legs to reveal how your arousal had seeped through your layer of panties staining the fabric of your bottoms a darker, enticing shade.

With greedy looks in their eyes, both boys set their sights on the evidence of your excitement, saliva collecting under their tongues. 

“So, how are you both really gonna make up for such shameless, deranged behavior?”

Heeseung felt his cock twitch heavily in his sweatpants at your challenge, knowing it was all your fault. 

“We were just getting to that part,” Jay appealed, caressing his hand along your inner thigh, dipping closer and closer to your warmth, “___, trust me, you’ll forget all about our fuck-ups in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” You directed Heeseung to continue stimulating your tits by dragging his chin forward as you leaned back onto your elbows. 

He peeked over his shoulder at Jay, who positioned himself between your legs, and it was evident by the dark glint in his eyes that he wanted to taste you as well. However, you judged his sinful shenanigans to be greater than Jay’s and instead jerked his head towards your chest, your free hand gripping your breast.

“C’mon, Daddy, make my wish come true. Milk my tits and pussy, I want it so badly...”

That was a first. Your words seemed to reset the two back in order; Heeseung’s breath caught in his chest, but Jay fell back into the flow of things quicker. 

“Shit, baby. We’ll give it to you.”

You squirmed as Jay ran his hot tongue over the seam tucked between your swollen mound, his fingers tugging at your waistband to strip you bare.

Heeseung held your hazy gaze as he yanked off his top, tossing it onto the floor before diving back into devouring your breasts. With each messy kiss placed on your chest, your entire body shuddered, and Heeseung found himself groaning against your skin from how amazing it felt to finally gratify his urges for you. 

It was so satisfying to make you moan nonsensical things while feeling your nails scrape along his nape and upper back. 

Once Jay freed you from your shorts, all that was left was your drenched panties, which he took an even more passionate lap at, shoving his tongue against the dip of your entrance through the fabric but all too conveniently avoiding where you needed him most. 

“Mm, Daddy… please,” You whispered with a gulp, spreading your legs even wider to lure him in, “Please make me come on your tongue.”

Jay’s eyes softened; in return, he pressed a kiss to the flesh of your trembling thigh and began to remove the last barrier of clothing that kept him from your warm, wet pussy. “Alright, baby. I’m gonna help you come so much, okay?”

“Mhmm…” You nodded.

Ah, it was so different to see him like this. He’d always spoiled you one way or another, hadn’t he?

If only you noticed how his cock was straining in his pants at seeing you spread so prettily for him while thoroughly enjoying getting your tits sucked. 

“I haven’t seen a pussy prettier than this,” Jay commented, catching his roommate’s attention.

For a second, you were given a chance to breathe and merely collapsed onto the sheets, staring up at the balloon-covered ceiling as Heeseung leaned over your body to enjoy the sight of your arousal dripping down your folds. 

“Fuck, it’s so wet,” Heeseung murmured, his eyes drinking up the erotic view of you from above as he spread your lips apart with his middle and index fingers. “Look at that drooly little hole. It’s clenching so tightly…”

Jay chuckled, and you could only whimper, feeling Heeseung’s breath ghost over your pussy. Hearing them talk about you so casually caused your face to overheat; you wondered if they ever discussed you behind your back like this. 

“Think this pink little clit would like it if we suck on it?”

Before Jay could respond, Heeseung pressed forward and swiped his tongue across your swollen clit, fit his lips around the nub, and then sucked. 

“Heeseung!” You jerked against his face and reached back to grip your duvet, feeling more wetness drip onto your sheets. 

Heeseung had the nerve to snicker in front of Jay’s face before pressing himself back up at the sound of your needy voice.

Jay’s jaw clenched, but he hadn’t made a move to stop the other male since it wasn’t against their agreement. All he could do was sink his grip into your mattress, pissed that Heeseung had just stolen the first taste of you from him.

Well, he did practically invite him over to gloat before feasting on you. He just didn’t anticipate that it’d backfire; should’ve thought twice about that. 

Little did you know it’d work in your favor. 

“Mm, knew you’d taste like candy,” Heeseung hummed, clearly trying to hold back a smile. He tipped your chin up, his voice low and tender, “Give Daddy a kiss, I want you to taste yourself.”

You were tentative in doing so but eventually got lost in the sensation of sharing the taste of your arousal with Heeseung. It made your lips tingle, toes curling against Jay’s shoulders. 

“Ah…”

Every inch of your skin became a magnet for Heeseung’s lips as he kept himself busy, rubbing at your tits, fully aware of the havoc he’d wreaked with Jay. He supposed that’s one thing he shared in common with you— getting on Jay’s nerves when he felt like it. 

Oh, were you feeling absolutely dizzy now, and even more so when a plush pair of lips you’d been missing began to make out with your pussy. 

You exhaled harshly and glimpsed down your body at the blond tending to your aching mound. All that softness previously on display was gone; Jay’s never looked more starved than he did now, grip fierce on your thighs whilst plunging his tongue into your pussy.    

“Oh fuck, Jay—!“

He wasn’t messing around. With each heavy drag of his hot tongue on your clit, your muscles seized, breath growing shorter and shorter, your body on the brink of an orgasm. 

Heeseung latched onto your tit and rolled your other nipple under his fingers, watching your desperate expression from beneath his lashes. 

With the incredible sensations you were experiencing all over the pleasure points of your body, you were done for. 

Jay reveled in the fact that you couldn’t keep your plush thighs from squeezing tightly around his head. He was just as attentive to your responses as Heeseung, his kisses to your clit pushing you over the edge as your eyes fluttered shut. 

Shocks of pleasure traveled up your core, causing spasms throughout your entire body. The boys couldn’t get enough of your precious moans echoing off your bedroom walls, and Jay seemed to be enjoying your high as much as you were. You felt his moans rumble against your skin— had a feeling he was savoring every drop of you.  

Heeseung fondly ran his fingers through strands of your hair strewn across the sheets while your limbs were awash with ecstasy. Despite your twitching, you felt Jay continue to dip between your thighs and gather your creamy release on his tongue. Shortly after, he crept over your body and reached for your jaw, his eyes trained on yours as you felt his cock scorch against your abdomen.

“Open,” He urged, and not a second later, you were mindlessly offering him your tongue. 

Your cream dribbled from the tip of his tongue onto yours, like honey— and just before the strand could break, he sealed his lips over yours, stroking deeply and slowly into your mouth like he wanted you to blackout in his arms from lack of oxygen.

Oh god…

After all that, you managed to let out a breathless chuckle and offer Jay a bashful smile which he returned.

“So, did we somewhat make up for our shameless, deranged behavior?” He asked. 

Well. You supposed you could say you weren’t nearly as put off by the secret perversions that took place over the past several months as you were 30 minutes ago.

You swallowed thickly, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you pressed your sticky thighs together. “Yeah… a bit.”

“Just ‘a bit’ she says. Good thing we have more gifts,” Heeseung exchanged a look of amusement with Jay and kneeled by your side.

He began to stroke himself over the jet black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, brazenly shooting you a heated look as he did.

Without thinking, you reached out to touch him, and his large hand immediately covered yours, guiding you to squeeze along his thick cock and feel him up as you pleased. You just couldn’t get your hands on enough of him— either of them.

Heeseung clicked his tongue.

“Wanna open mine?”

—

A/N CONT.

Yay, I can finally add something to Jay’s repertoire! It was fun to see what naturally came out on the page for him in this fic, he ended up being Very Daddy. 😵‍💫 I actually started a femdom sub!Jay fic months ago but never got around to finishing it so I’m glad some other anons requested more of him lmao

I wasn’t sure if I’d like writing a threesome fic, but I thought I’d try it out– I didn’t hate it. A threesome tit sucking scene had been a long time comin 🤭 ANYWAYS Hee was a nice contrast to Jay in this as I’m still high off of him in NIIY. 🥰 This is also my first time writing in some aspects of a Daddy kink, but I’m still exploring it. Let me know if you enjoyed that aspect bc I know I usually tend towards more switch dynamics in my fics?

I was about to write a part 2, but I gotta get the other requests done! Also random but not, I feel like perv Hee is just a running joke in this fandom on here, so I’m just keeping the legend alive (again), he’s the official panty thief ™

As always, reblog, like or follow me if you enjoyed and check out my masterlist for more fics ⚰️🖤 It’s appreciated!

[1000sunnygo]

One Piece Academy chapter 40: Cora san part 2 (Quick translation)

source | part 1 | index

Sanji: Huh..? Aren't you...?

Luffy: Who?

Nami: Luffy! We've just seen this guy in a photo a while ago!

He's Corazon!!

Cora: Guh..!

*tap tap*

Nami: Ah, he's running!

*wham*

Nami: Ah, he fell ;;

Cora: Law, what's the meaning of this? How did this place get busted?!

Law: I'm in a state of shock myself... I swear I wasn't being tailed by anyone.

You guys, how did you...?

Robin: Underestimated our skill of gaining intel, haven't you?

Sanji: You did a good job hiding your tracks, but...

[flashback]

Luffy: Traffy... he's totally gone, huh.

Bart: Ah, Luffy senpai! It's been a while beh!

Luffy: Oh? Isn't that Romeo!

Do y'all know Traffy's place?

Bart: Naa I don't.. Gambia, do you?

Gambia: I dunno. Lemme ask my granma at home.

Gambia: Helloo, granma! Do you know where Trafalgar Law lives?.. Hmm, hmm... oh?

*pulls up a map*

Gambia: She says he lives here! Even gave us details on how to enter!

Bart: Granma really has all the wisdom beh~!

Luffy: COOL!! Thanks!!

Cora: THIS IS WAYY BEYOND THE REALM OF WISDOM THOUGH!!

Usopp: She also said, "if you're worried about the doorknob's prickly static shock, just touch the wall with your palm first."

Law: So she shared some real wisdom too? That damned Bartolomeo!

Zoro: A man believed to be missing is here, 'hiding' so nobody can find him - so it seems.

Corazon:...!

Since I got busted already, I guess there's no going back.

*cracks knuckles*

I'll make sure to make you feel at home.

Coby: Woah!

Law: DON'T START A RICEBALL PARTY!!

Luffy: What flavor is that one, Corao?

Cora: That's umeboshi! Law hates it.

Law: Cora san... ;

Cora: It's okay, Law..

Cora: After all, the only visitors we get in this home far from the town are Bepo and team. And that's just Law's pals.

Law: They're... not exactly pals...

Cora: That said, it's not like someone is expected to live here. The entrance is far down some secret underground passage. We buy our groceries from the neighboring Swallow city.

*clang*

Nami: Why all these secrecy?

Coby: Where are you going?

Cora: Follow me! I'll show you.

Luffy: Traffy's place seems fun!

Law: Make sure not to ravage it.

Cora: This is.. The Doflamingo countermeasure Headquarters.

Nami: The Doflamingo countermeasure Headquarters?

Luffy: That's a lot of Mingo!

Cora: You get the gist of a secret opposing faction, don't you?

In short, we call it "Vs Doff.." "Quarters.." well, something.

And not just Doflamingo, we collect information about the Family executives.. Even about the Onigashima middle school.

I investigate here everyday.. *tapping some keys*

And think of countermeasures.

<bzzzzz>

Coby: YOU JUST SHUT IT DOWN!

Cora: Crap, I blew it up again...

Nami: Cora chan, might you be a bit clumsy?

Cora: I have always been a clutz. It doesn't get better.

Vivi: We know that Doflamingo is a bad guy who needs to be stopped.. But do you, as his brother, have any specific reason for your action?

Cora: As his younger brother, my goal is...to prevent my older brother Doffy from falling into the dark world.

Brook: Dark..

Chopper:... World?

Cora: Do you know what they call Doffy in the town?

Coby : I'm pretty sure it's Joker, "The Town's Charisma"....

Cora: He's a regular hot topic among young admirers, my brother's got that talent in him. But..

He's being approached by the people from the dark world - meaning the Bad adults, as they observed those qualities.

To be honest, brother does have the predisposition and ideas for 'evil.' He's already a bad guy, you can't call him good even as a flattery.

Zoro: Will he remain as the Town's Charisma, or become a Charismatic Evil?

If it's the latter, that'd be way more serious that being just a bad, flawed person...

CONTINUES IN REBLOG ⬇️

[kdwg]

• Scaramouche x Eroded God!Reader • Genshin Impact

----

•Warning: English is not my first language, I use ggl translate, Vietnamese version below, hurt-comfort, soft!Scara.

Words: 1,5k

English Version:

"Just do what I say, okay?"

You respond with a weak nod. Scaramouche can see your eyebrows furrowed, your nails digging into your knees and your back hunched over like a millipede. He sighs, the overwhelming pain inside you was growing stronger, almost beyond endurance. Scaramouche is afraid you will soon lose consciousness, and worst of all, you won't hear anything he says anymore.

He snaps his fingers to signal a few times:

"I know you're in a lot of pain, don't focus on it, just listen to me."

Scaramouche straightens your back. You can hear him whispering in your ear, repeating the words relax over and over. The fingers on the shoulder pin to the wall are now running down to the lower abdomen, the back of his hand places on the navel slowly pressing gently.

"Don't breathe through your mouth. Absolutely not. Breathe out completely."

He is pleased when his knuckles feel your ribs and pelvis.

"Very good. Inhale, expanding your belly, making sure each inhale is so full that you can't take another breath. Then, exhale completely, flattening your belly. Repeat ten times."

You seem to be struggling, the pain is so great that you can't fully relax your muscles. However, you did as Scara said, trying to focus on your breathing, mentally maintaining those words like a broken tape recorder.

"Hey! You're transferring the pain into--"

Before he can finish speaking, Scara quickly squeezes your mouth painfully enough for moans to escape from your throat. You felt two of his knuckles wedged between your jaws followed by a sharp crack as you bit down and pieces that felt like porcelain or plastic shattered in your mouth. They quickly turned into pale yellow spots of light, drifting along with the red blood flowing down the chin and floor. You coughs, your whole body collapses, the agony was like a cleansing spear cutting your body in half. At that moment, there was only a plaintive scream in your ears, not Scaramouche's, your mind was only filled with a dazzling, dense white that made your eyes and skin numb. You find yourself exposed to the naked essence, they burn your nerves, the pain is excruciating but you cannot move even a knuckle bend. Everything is just white, white and polarized to the point that it's like three or four millennia have passed, and life is inviting you back to the dark night.

"Hey! Wake up, did you hear anything?"

You realize you are screaming, you are in a kneeling position holding your head. Scaramouche used all his strength to get you back into a meditative position but it was useless, you looked like a dried corpse.

When the pain fades, you take a deep breath, repeat what he told you five times before standing up straight on your hands and knees.

"Kunikuzushi..."

"You're always like that, you always hold your breath when you're in pain."

He frowns, placing two uninjured fingers under your nose to check the stability of your breathing.

"I hurt you again."

You grab his wrist, pull him closer. Half of his mangled hand is still bleeding. Raising his head to look into his eyes, Scara just gives you the look like not to worry. Sighing, you kiss his white wrist, blue light envelopes both of you and in a moment his beautiful hand intacts.

"I can heal myself. If you still have the strength, you'd better find a way to lift your body up."

Scaramouche let you lay your head on his shoulder, hearing your own panting, you also guessed his dissatisfied expression.

"Just makes your work easier."

Scaramouche is not a good at healing his wounds, and he rarely lets himself get seriously injured in fights. You're right, if he needed to heal half of his hand by himself, he'd have to keep it hidden in his pocket for a week at the palace.

"So does it work?"

"Maybe it would be effective if I focused completely on my breathing. At first I did as you said and it helped, but at the last moment the erosion was almost at its peak, I passed out and stopped breathing... To be honest it was quite difficult to do."

Scaramouche laughs:

"If every time it hurts you remember what I said, do half of it would be great."

"What do you mean by that?"

Seeing your confused face, he hesitates for a moment but finally answeres:

"I'm going to Sumeru, I'm not sure how long it will take..."

Scaramouche knows it is quite useless to look for some method to relieve your pain when most of them are useless. He also understands that even if it's painful, you can get over it, whether he's here or not doesn't help much. However, Scaramouche couldn't stop worrying about leaving you to torment yourself.

"I'll be fine. Even if I breathe wrong or stop breathing, I'll still live."

"That's right, I worry about nothing."

He smirks and looks down condescendingly. Having said that, he cleaned up the mess before holding you down.

"I have to go, take care of yourself...okay?"

"You look worried. You won't come back?"

You confusedly clasp your fingers together when you catch Scara's complex, long look at you. Fear comes when you start to think he was too tired of taking care of you and now Scara was choosing a reason, looking for a good excuse to leave. If he does that, you think you'll still be okay, you'll overcome everything, even dying alone, if you've come this far, all the worries in the world are just...

"No, I just don't know if I can return or not."

Scara interrupts your train of thoughts, his hand covering your withered eyes.

"Why are you discouraged this time? It's not like you at all..."

"It's a premonition."

You intertwine your hands in his and whispered:

"Didn't I bless you?"

Once again, you spread kisses on the hand that had been broken countless times because of you.

"Are you saying this is a blessing?" Scara laughs mockingly, "To be honest, I expected something more. But, I think I will find a way to return, I'm afraid it will take a long time, soon maybe a year, maybe longer... thirty or fifty years?"

An indescribable wistful look, Scara suppresses a sigh of frustration, you have enough problems to worry about, he doesn't want to make the situation worse. But, he is just afraid that at this rate, if he doesn't come back soon, you may not remember who you are, don't even say him.

"I won't forget you," You pull him closer, clasping your hands in a very urgent prayer position, "Even if I lose myself. Please promise to return, I can wait as long as it takes."

Hearing your voice lost in endless fear, eyes bright and pure, lips trembling, he smiles faintly:

"Does someone like you have to beg?"

"Aren't you my god?"

Scaramouche leans in to kiss affectionately at the tail of your eyes as deep as a well:

"I'm always your god, right?"

He bends down, snuggles into the crook of your neck, he doesn't know how long it will be before he can immerse in your hug and kiss.

"I will return, I am not the one who would betray my archon."

Scara places one last kiss on your forehead as you drift off into a light sleep. He put firewood in the stove, turns off some candles and oil lamps, adjusts the blanket and the direction of your slippers.

I hope that on the days I leave, Snezhnaya will be warmer.

Vietnamese version:

"Hãy làm theo những gì tôi bảo, được chứ?"

Bạn đáp lại bằng cái gật đầu yếu ớt. Scaramouche có thể thấy lông mày nhíu sâu lại, móng tay đâm sâu vào đầu gối và lưng bạn còng rạp xuống như một con cuốn chiếu. Anh thở dài, nỗi đau chồng chéo đang dày xéo bên trong bạn đang ngày càng lớn dần sắp vượt ngoài sức chịu đựng. Scaramouche lo sợ bạn sẽ sớm mất đi ý thức, tệ nhất là bạn sẽ không còn nghe thấy anh nói gì nữa.

Anh búng tay ra hiệu vài lần:

"Tôi biết chị đang rất đau, đừng tập trung vào nỗi đau, hay nghe tôi nói."

Scaramouche chỉnh cho lưng bạn ưỡn thẳng. Bạn có thể nghe thấy tiếng anh thì thầm bên tai lặp đi lặp lại hai chữ thả lỏng. Những ngón tay trên vai ghim vào tường giờ đang chạy dọc xuống bụng dưới, mu bàn tay anh đặt trên phần rốn từ từ ấn nhẹ.

"Đừng thở bằng miệng. Tuyệt đối không. Thở ra hết đi."

Anh hài lòng khi đốt ngón tay mình sờ nắn được phần xương sườn và xương chậu của bạn.

"Tốt lắm. Hít vào, căng bụng ra, chắc chắn rằng mỗi lần hít vào đầy đến mức chị không thể hít thêm. Sau đó, thở ra hết hơi, xẹp bụng lại. Lặp lại như vậy mười lần."

Bạn có vẻ chật vật, nỗi vần vã quá lớn khiến bạn không thể thả lỏng được hết cơ bắp. Tuy nhiên, bạn chật vật làm theo điều Scara nói, cố gắng tập trung vào hơi thở, trong đầu tâm niệm duy trì những lời ấy như một cái máy ghi âm bị hỏng.

"Này! Chị đang chuyển nỗi đau vào--"

Chưa kịp dứt lời, Scara vội vã bóp miệng bạn đủ đau để những tiếng rên la bật ra khỏi cổ họng. Bạn cảm giác hai đốt ngón tay anh chèn giữa hai hàm và theo sau là tiếng rắc chói tay lúc bạn cắn xuống và những mảnh tựa như sứ hay nhựa vỡ tan tành trong khoang miệng. Chúng nhanh chóng hoá thành đốm sáng vàng nhàn nhạt, trôi theo dòng máu đỏ chảy xuống cằm và sằn. Bạn ho sặc sụa, cả thân hình đổ sập, cơn đau thống khổ tựa như một mũi giáo tẩy trần đang xẻ đôi thân xác. Bấy giờ trong tai bạn chỉ còn tiếng hét ai oán, không phải của Scaramouche, tâm trí chỉ còn một màu trắng đặc sệt chói loà và bức mắt làm con người da thịt tê tái. Bạn thấy bản thân mình như phơi giữa cái tinh túy trần trụi, chúng đốt cháy sợi dây thần kinh, đau đớn khôn xiết nhưng bạn không thể cử động dù chỉ là một cái gập khớp ngón tay. Tất cả chỉ có trắng rã, trắng rã phân cực đến độ tựa như ba bốn thiên niên kỉ trôi qua, đời mời trao trả lại miền đêm tăm tối.

"Này! Tỉnh dậy đi, chị có nghe thấy gì không?"

Bạn nhận ra mình đang gào thét, bản thân ở tư thế quỳ rạp ôm đầu. Scaramouche dùng hết sức bình sinh để gỡ bạn trở lại tư thế thiền định nhưng vô ích, bạn giống một cái xác chết khô.

Khi cơn đau nhạt dần, bạn hít một hơi thật sâu, lặp lại theo những gì anh chỉ năm lần rồi mới chống tay ngồi thẳng dậy ở thế quỳ.

"Kunikuzushi..."

"Chị luôn như vậy, chị luôn nín thở mỗi khi chị đau."

Anh nhăn mày, đặt hai ngón tay không bị thương dưới mũi bạn để kiểm tra độ bình ổn của hơi thở.

"Tôi lại làm đau em rồi."

Bạn cau mày nắm lấy cổ tay của anh kéo lại gần. Một nửa bàn tay nham nhở vẫn còn đang chảy máu, ngẩng đầu nhìn vào mắt anh, Scara chỉ ngụ ý đừng bận lòng. Thở dài, bạn hôn lên cổ tay trắng ngần ấy, những làn sáng xanh bao trùm lấy cả hai và trong chốc lát bàn tay đẹp đẽ của anh đã nguyên vẹn như cũ.

"Tôi có thể tự chữa lành, nếu còn sức tốt nhất chị nên tìm cách xách được cái thân dậy."

Scaramouche để bạn gục đầu lên vai anh, nghe tiếng thở dốc của bản thân, bạn cũng đã đoán ra nét mặt không hài lòng của anh.

"Chỉ là cho em làm việc dễ dàng hơn."

Scaramouche không phải là người tự chữa các vết thương tốt, đặc biệt anh cũng hiếm khi để mình bị thương nặng trong các cuộc giao tranh. Bạn nói không sai, nếu tự thân chữa trị nửa bàn tay chắc cả tuần đến cung điện anh phải giấu khư khư trong túi áo.

"Vậy nó có hiệu quả không?"

"Có lẽ sẽ hiệu quả nếu tôi tập trung hoàn toàn vào hơi thở. Lúc đầu tôi làm theo lời em nói thì đúng là có ích, nhưng cơn bào mòn vào phút cuối gần như là đỉnh điểm, tôi đã bất tỉnh và ngừng hô hấp ngay sau đó... Thành thật mà nói nó khá khó thực hiện."

Scaramouche cười trừ:

"Nếu mỗi lúc đau chị chịu nhớ lời tôi nói, thực hiện được một nửa là đã tốt lắm rồi."

"Nói thế là sao?"

Bắt gặp khuôn mặt khó hiểu của bạn, anh lưỡng lự một lúc nhưng cuối cùng vẫn trả lời:

"Tôi sẽ đến Sumeru một chuyến, chưa rõ bao lâu sẽ về..."

Scaramouche biết khá là vô ích khi tìm một số phương pháp để thuyên giảm cơn đau của bạn khi hầu hết chúng là vô dụng. Anh đồng thời cũng hiểu dù đau đớn bạn cũng đều có thể vượt qua được, chuyện anh có mặt ở đây hay không đều chẳng mấy giúp ích. Song, Scaramouche không nguôi nỗi lo canh cánh để mặc bạn tự dày vò.

"Tôi sẽ ổn thôi. Dù có thở sai cách hay ngưng thở, tôi vẫn sẽ sống."

"Phải rồi, tôi toàn lo chuyện không đâu."

Anh cười khẩy nhìn xuống đầy trịnh thượng. Nói rồi, anh lau dọn đống lộn xộn trước khi bế bạn nằm xuống.

"Tôi sắp phải đi rồi, hãy tự chăm sóc bản thân...được không?"

"Trông em có vẻ lo lắng, em sẽ không quay trở lại?"

Bạn bối rối đan những ngón tay vào nhau khi bắt gặp ánh nhìn phức cảm thật lâu của Scara nhìn mình. Nỗi sợ hãi ập đến khi bạn bắt đầu nghĩ anh quá mệt mỏi với việc chăm sóc bạn và giờ Scara đang lựa một lí do, tìm một cái cớ thoả đáng để bỏ đi. Nếu anh làm vậy, bạn nghĩ bạn vẫn sẽ ổn thôi, bạn sẽ vượt qua tất cả, kể cả cái chết đơn độc, bạn đã đi xa đến mức này thì mọi âu lo trên đời chỉ là...

"Không, chỉ là không biết có trở về được hay không thôi."

Scara cắt đứt mạch suy nghĩ, bàn tay anh phủ kín đôi mắt héo mòn của bạn.

"Tại sao lần này em lại nhụt chí? Không giống em chút nào..."

"Là dự cảm."

Bạn đan tay mình vào tay anh, thì thầm nói:

"Chẳng phải tôi đã chúc phúc cho em?"

Một lần nữa, bạn rải những nụ hôn lên bàn tay đã vô số lần gãy nát vì bạn.

"Chị nói cái này là chúc phúc sao?" Scara bật cười nhạo báng, "Thành thật mà nói, tôi trông chờ thứ gì nhiều hơn nữa. Nhưng, tôi nghĩ tôi sẽ tìm cách trở về, chỉ sợ là rất lâu, sớm có thể là một năm, lâu hơn có thể là ba mươi năm mươi năm?"

Một ánh nhìn đăm chiêu khó tả, Scara nén tiếng thở dài ngao ngán, bạn có đủ vấn đề đáng bận tâm rồi, anh không muốn làm tình hình trở nên tệ hơn. Nhưng, anh chỉ sợ đà này, nếu không trở về sớm, bạn có khi không nhớ bản thân mình là ai chứ đừng nói là anh.

"Tôi sẽ không quên em đâu," Bạn kéo anh lại gần làm tư thế chắp tay cầu nguyện vô cùng khẩn thiết, "Dù kể cả đánh mất bản thân. Làm ơn hãy hứa sẽ trở về, tôi đợi bao lâu cũng được."

Nghe giọng bạn lạc đi trong nỗi sợ miên man, đôi mắt sáng thống khiết, bờ môi run rẩy, anh cười nhạt:

"Người như chị cũng phải cầu xin sao?"

"Em không phải là thần của tôi sao?"

Scaramouche nghiêng mình để hôn trìu mến lên đáy mắt sâu như giếng của bạn:

"Khi nào tôi cũng là thần của chị đúng không?"

Anh cúi xuống, rúc mình vào hõm cổ, anh không biết bao lâu nữa mới được vồ vập trong cái ôm, cái hôn của bạn.

"Tôi sẽ trở về, tôi không phải người sẽ bội ước archon của mình."

Scara đặt một nụ hôn cuối cùng lên trán khi bạn chìm dần vào giấc ngủ nông. Anh cho củi vào lò, tắt một số ngọn nến và đèn dầu, chỉnh lại chăn và xoay hướng chiều dép cho bạn.

Anh mong những ngày anh rời đi, Snezhnaya sẽ trổ nắng.

[yuusishi]

*breaks into your Tumblr* HELLO THERE!! 👀

May I request a fluffy crack-like scenario where Idia, Rook, and Trey (separately) confess to the gn!reader. The reader happily accepts their confession because, of course, they also like them too. HOWEVER! They state something unexpectedly hilarious just after the confession:

"Well, since we are dating now, you'll have to prove yourself worthy of being Grim's father. That little gremlin may be annoying and tiring to deal with, but he's like my son, you know?"

What would their reaction be? And thank you in advance!! 💕

To Be My Boyfriend is to Be Grim’s Parent!

pairings: Idia Shroud, Rook Hunt, Trey Clover x gn!reader (sep.)

they/them pronouns used

genre: fluff, crack-ish

cws/tws: none

a/n: THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE, THIS REQ WAS ONE OF THE ONES BEFORE NOVEMBER IT’S FINALLY HERE 😭. I got a little rusty due to not writing for a while but I hope this is still good! Also I apologize that I forgot to make it a little crack-ish on Trey and Idia </3

¡ Idia Shroud !

“Y-You actually like me? Like you’re being for real? This isn’t a joke, right?” Idia’s speech was frantic and he was slightly scratching at his fingers ``Of course I do, the others may be nice to me like you but you’re just different. Like, help me with my homework, let me hang out with you when I feel down, and a lot more, and I love you for that”

‘Oh Seven, they even dropped the L word…’ Idia pulled up his hood and hid his face within it

You let out a little giggle before speaking again “Although…”

Idia peeked out from his hood, preparing himself for the worst while you just continued laughing

“Since I assume we’re dating…” you slowly put your hands on your hips and looked at Idia dead in the eyes, slightly startling the boy “...you need to prove yourself worthy of being Grim’s father!”

Idia stared off at your face for a moment, brain malfunctioning

‘Father…I’m Grim’s father…? Wait…, wouldn’t that make [Name] my….’

Congratulations you made Idia’s brain blue screen.

After calming him down from his thoughts he sighed and pulled you into his embrace, his arms wrapped around your lower back and his head buried into your shoulder

“I guess I am experienced in taking care of kids like Grim, I can take it”

Although you said it all as a joke, you lovingly stared over at Idia’s head and returned his embrace.

¡ Rook Hunt !

Rook’s answers to things are always so extravagant, always knowing what to say in most situations, but nothing could have prepared him for what you said

“Prove myself worthy of becoming the father of Monsieur Peluche?” he was shocked to say the least, his face was wide-eyed and a small gap between his lips with his brain trying to fully process it before he busted out his signature close-eyed smile

“What a glorious challenge, mon cherie! I shall become nothing short of the best father to him…!” he paused before taking your hand in his and pressing a gentle kiss onto your knuckles “...And of course, the best husband for you, mon amour”

Ah…it seems your own joke backfired on you for you are the one with a face flushed red at Rook’s actions.

Grim’s ears perked up when he heard you yelling for him in the empty hallways, it was after class hours after all, he instantly became suspicious when Rook was way more affectionate than usual. Rook doesn’t flirt with students, but he does say things sometimes that sound like he is

“What do you want?” Grim eyed Rook

“I, Rook Hunt, am one of your parents now!” he yelled as he picked up Grim like he weighed nothing

“New what?! I didn’t even know I had one parent?!” he yelled back “Oh how cruel you are to [Name], they told me that to be their boyfriend is also to be your father!”

Grim gave you a confused and begging look before reluctantly giving in to Rook’s hold.

¡ Trey Clover !

“E-Excuse me?” he blinked in confusion

“Mhm! That Grim is my son and since we are dating you need to prove that you’re a good father for him!” you stared at him with a determined face with your hands on your hips

Trey was full of confusion at this moment, mainly out of shock, but laughed it off with a sigh “Well, knowing Grim, shall we bake something for him as a peace offering?”

Your eyes lit up at the mention of baking with your now boyfriend and you yelled a yes.

You rested your arms on the countertop of Heartslabyul’s kitchen, them being tired from mixing all the batter needed for Trey’s peace offering cake to Grim

“Did baking tire you out that much?” he teased “Yeah, guess I’m not used to so much arm movement” you laughed

Trey paused for a moment before leaning in closer to your face “Did you eat some of the cake batter?”

Only realizing now that you got some of the batter on your lips you awkwardly laughed in front of his scolding eyes, Trey sighed before wiping off the batter on your lips quickly with his thumb and wiping it off on a kitchen rag. You heard him make a little hum before he leaned in again but this time instead of his thumb on your lips it was his lips on yours, the red on your face almost matching the red on Heartslabyul’s walls when he pulled away while he had a mischievous grin on his face

“I guess cake batter does taste good, but it’s better when it’s fully baked”.

[ghosttotheparty]

For the dialogue prompts: Steddie + 22. “Yes, you totally can. You can do anything! Um. Do what, exactly?”

also on ao3

"Do you think I could ask Eddie out?"

Robin chokes on her 7-Up, and a little goes up her nose, and it burns, but she still turns to Steve, wide-eyed. Her face is wet with soda, but she doesn't bother to wipe it at she stares at him and he stares back, blank-faced.

"Well?"

"Run that by me one more time?"

"Okay--" He sighs, dropping his head for a moment as he leans over the counter, pushing his pack of Red Vines away. "Look."

"Where did this come from?" Robin bursts, finally wiping her face clean of the soda and the single tear that's fallen from her eye. (It really burned.)

"I-- Okay," Steve says again, sighing heavily. He glances at the door, which is hanging open to combat the summer heat, but it's a slow day today, and the parking lot is empty except for his Beemer and two other cars. "I kind of... really like him." Her eyes widen more and her head tilts. "And I only realized, like, yesterday, so I haven't been keeping this from you, I swear. I just..."

And then Robin is grinning, and she hops over, bouncing up onto the counter next to him and setting her soda down dangerously fast. It almost tips, and Steve stares at it with wide eyes as Robin kicks her feet and looks down at him.

"How'd you realize?" she asks excitedly, rocking back and forth.

"Are you serious?" he questions, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I never got to talk about crushes when I was a kid," she complains, whining and kicking at him. "Let me have this, come on. Tell me."

He sighs heavily, looking around again even though they're alone, and he leans against the counter next to her legs, a smile now teasing at his lips.

"He made me a mixtape," he says, and Robin grins, watching the way his eyes glaze over a little.

"Was it all metal?"

"I mean. Yeah. That's kinda all he listens to," he says, and he's fidgeting with his fingers, twisting them and cracking his knuckles. "But it was... It was good. I liked it."

"Right..." she prompts, nudging his side with her foot again. She lifts her 7-Up to her mouth as he nibbles on his bottom lip, thinking.

"There was one song on it," he says slowly, carefully. "That just... I don't know. It felt... different."

"Different how?"

"Like... Romantic?"

Robin's smile grows until it almost hurts, and she kicks him.

"How does it go?"

"I don't remember," he lies (she can tell), "but part of the chorus says something about, uhm. 'I'm a prisoner of your eyes.'" He pauses, brows furrowing as he thinks. "And there's a part about, like, 'I've locked myself inside your heart and thrown away the key." And, uhm, 'Only time will tell if I can live without you,' or something."

"Oh my god," she says succinctly. He stands up straight, looking at her, exasperated.

"Right? And I can't tell if it's, like, just a good song that he thought I'd like or if he's trying to say something or if he's saying something without meaning to, or..."

"Okay, wait, how did you realize you like him?"

"I just..." He sighs heavily, falling forward so his face is smushed against her thigh, and she pats his head. "Was listening to it and thought about, like. If someone else showed me that song it would be romantic. And then I thought, like 'What if it is romantic?' and I thought I wouldn't mind if it was, coming from him, and then I just... Realized I kinda want it to be."

Robin's heart swells. She runs her fingers through his hair tenderly, and he sighs again.

"You're cool with liking a guy?" she asks after a moment. "When I realized I like girls I totally freaked out."

He shrugs, standing up again and sighing.

"It took a minute," he says a little tiredly, "but... Weirder shit's happened in my life. Liking a guy doesn't seem like the end of the world when you've witnessed and survived the actual end of the world, you know?"

She frowns thoughtfully.

"Yeah. I guess."

"Just... I mean I guess I'm just kind of stressed about, like... What if he doesn't like guys?" he asks, picking up a Red Vine and taking a bite.

"I don't think you have to worry about that," she says without thinking, and his eyes widen as he looks at her, half a Red Vine hanging from his mouth.

"...Huh?"

"...Uh."

He stares for a few more seconds, chewing slowly.

"Do you think he's gay?" he whispers.

"Well, I don't think he's straight."

He swallows and throws the other half of the candy to the counter aggressively.

"Robin."

"Steve."

"Are you serious?"

"Look, I'm not saying I know everything, I'm just saying he seems kinda..." She shrugs weakly.

He takes a breath, one of his hands flapping weakly for a moment as he raises onto his tiptoes and then lowers, calming himself. And Robin thinks maybe they spend too much time together.

"Are you serious?" he says again, and his eyes are wide and shining, and he suddenly looks like he's the kids' ages, like he's just a boy with a crush instead of a man that had to grow up too fast and then never got the chance to slow down. She shrugs, smiling a little. "Do you think I could do it?" he asks almost excitedly, giddily, and God, she loves him.

"Yes, you totally can, you can do anything!" a voice says brightly from the doorway, and they both jump, looking up to find Eddie strolling in, wearing a pair of jeans despite the heat and a white shirt that reads Iron Maiden with some illustration on it. The sleeves are cut off, exposing his tattooed arms and his scars, and Robin knows Steve is probably melting just looking at him as he approaches the front counter and leans over, looking at Steve with shining eyes. "Um. Do what, exactly?"

Steve and Robin look at each other.

Now's your chance.

Should I?

Yes, obviously. Use the breakroom.

What if you're wrong?

I'm not, get out of here.

Eddie waits patiently, looking back and forth between them, smiling almost nervously like he knows they're talking about him, and his face light up and his smile softens when Steve looks at him.

"Uh. Can we talk?"

"Yeah," Eddie says lightly, confusedly. "'Course, what's up?"

"Like..." Steve gestures with a tilt of his head toward the back, and Eddie taps on the counter as he stands up straight, following him.

Robin kicks her feet, smiling at the ground and lifting her 7-Up again.

---

"So."

"You okay?" Eddie asks as the door shuts behind them. He leans against the back of it looking offensively good as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, no, I just... Uhm." Steve takes a deep breath, moving to lean against the wall across from him. The room is laid out so there's a wall in front of the door, so their shoes are almost touching. Eddie's wearing some black Converse today, scuffed and ripped and stained with mud and grease. "Wanted to ask you something."

"Okay," Eddie says slowly. "What might that be?"

"Uhm." Steve takes a breath. "That mixtape you made me."

"Did you listen to it?" Eddie asks, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah," Steve says, and he can't suppress his smile, looking at him. His hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of his head, probably with a hair tie he stole from Nancy, but there are some pieces falling down around his face, and it looks pretty. Eddie pulls a piece across his face shyly.

"Did you like it?"

Steve blinks at him.

"Yeah," he says breathlessly. "I liked it a lot."

"Really?" Eddie asks, beaming.

"Yeah," Steve says, his smile widening. "There was one song--"

"Which one?"

"I think it was called..." Steve hesitates, watching Eddie carefully. "Prisoner of Your Eyes?"

Eddie's smile falters, and his eyes flicker across Steve's face, his hand lowering the curl he's holding.

"You like that one?" he asks, his voice softer, and Steve almost has all the confirmation he needs.

"Yeah," he says shyly. "...Made me think of you."

Eddie's eyes widen the slightest bit, and he stares at Steve, and in the small space, Steve can practically hear his heartbeat. (And what a beautiful sound that is.) Eddie drops his hand and puts it in his pocket.

"The others didn't?" Eddie says, and Steve scoffs, kicking his foot lightly.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

Steve looks at him, and Eddie's eyes are boring into his, dark and shiny and Steve could swear he can see the universe in them. Eddie is unblinking, and he looks like he's holding his breath, apprehensive and shy and nervous.

Steve stands up straight off the wall, taking a deep breath as he steps closer. Eddie's eyes somehow widen even more. They're practically the same height, but he still looks like he's looking up at Steve, eyes shining.

"Do you?" Steve asks, his voice soft now, almost whispering.

Eddie's lips part as he looks at him, and he's close enough now for Steve to see each eyelash, to see the strand of hair that's on his face. Steve reaches up to move it out of the way. Eddie's cheeks flush pink.

"Is this what you were talking about with Robin?" he asks, his voice breathy, as he looks across Steve's face, his eyes lingering on his mouth. Steve hesitates, his face warming.

"Uh. I asked her if she thought I could ask you out."

Eddie's eyes snap back to Steve's and flick back and forth between like he's looking for a lie in them, like he's searching for an indication of Steve's honesty.

"Really?" he breathes.

Steve nods, smiling softly at him. He reaches up and tucks a curl behind his ear tenderly, tracing a line down his neck, looking at the scars that match Steve's own.

"What do you think?" he whispers. "Could I?"

"Yeah," Eddie breathes. "I think you could."

Steve suppresses a smile, moving closer and touching Eddie's face, caressing his cheeks, tracing the scar that's on his left cheek, rough and pink and a little silvery and beautiful.

"Will you go out with me?" he asks softly, disregarding the second part of the question, which clarifies that going out for them isn't the same as it is for other couples, because they have to pretend to be friends, because Steve can't bring him flowers, because he can't kiss him in the parking lot. But for now, at this moment... they can pretend.

"Yes," Eddie says, and his hands finally find Steve's waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric of his vest. "I'll go out with you."

"Yeah?" Steve asks weakly, smiling, and Eddie's eyes flicker across his face again, his fingers tightening on his waist.

"Yeah," he says. "I wanna."

"Shit," Steve breathes. "Okay."

"Okay," Eddie says softly.

They stare at each other for a moment, just breathing. Touching each other. Holding each other.

"Will you kiss me, please?" Eddie bursts after a moment.

"Can I?" Steve asks, his heart pounding, excited, and Eddie pulls at his waist impatiently.

"Please," he says adamantly. "I've wanted to kiss you for fucking ages, I'm begging you, Stevie."

Steve beams so brightly that his face hurts, and he moves closer, setting a hand on Eddie's chest and pressing him into the door.

Eddie's eyes are already almost closed, and he's lifting his chin up for him, lips parted, and Steve wonders how he could have gone this long without realizing he likes men, because Eddie is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You're fucking gorgeous," Steve whispers when their lips brush, and Eddie's hands tighten again as he pulls at his vest.

Steve kisses him before he can say anything.

Eddie gasps and clutches at his back as Steve presses him into the door harder, and Steve is so glad his life's worked out the way it has, because somehow he has Eddie Munson up against a door, kissing him like his life depends on it, and he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Steve holds his face tenderly, tilting his head as he kisses him again, and he can feel Eddie's pulse hammering against his fingertips as he presses them into his skin under his jaw. Steve smiles, catching Eddie's lip between his teeth, and Eddie lets out a breathy hum.

"Do you wanna spend the night at my place tonight?" Steve asks breathlessly when they part, panting, and Eddie kisses him desperately before he answers. His hands are pressing into the small of his back. It feels good.

"Yeah, obviously," he says softly into his mouth, licking at his lip. Steve grins.

"Cool," he whispers. He pulls back just enough to look at him, at the way his lips are red and shiny now, the way his eyes are a little glazed over. "'Cause I got, like, twenty years of repressed bisexuality to work through and I kinda want you there for it."

"Oh, fuck. Okay, yeah, yes."

---

They're taking too long. Robin helps a customer, the only one that comes by, and she helps herself to Steve's Red Vines, nibbling them as she watches the movie they put on earlier even though she can't really follow along because she got a little distracted earlier.

She looks over at the breakroom, sighing, bored, and then she sticks a Red Vine in her mouth, stepping cheerfully around the counter to the breakroom, where she pauses, listening in case they're talking. She just hears a soft, breathy hum, and she grins, her fist hovering above the door before she knocks hard.

"Jesus fucking--"

"Robin!"

She cackles happily, throwing her head back.

"I'm bored," she says loudly, and Steve calls back, "Okay, well, I'm not, so fuck off."

She groans loudly, falling against the door, and she hears Eddie

They emerge after another few minutes, their hair touseled and cheeks red, and Eddie is grinning smugly.

"Rob," Steve says before he's even at the counter. "You're staying at Nancy's tonight."

"Yeah, I figured."

dialogue prompts!! ❧ buy me a coffee // check out my commissions ☙

[loquaciousquark]

"Please don't leave me/I can't do this without you" from anonymous (caretaker - 20); "dance with me" from @sasskarian (flowers - viscaria); "come down/come back" from anonymous (flowers - Jacob's ladder).

3000 words, set mid-Act 3. I had too much fun with this one, so you'll have to forgive the self-indulgence.

—

“Say it.”

“Certainly not.”

“Say it.” Tav’s whisper had taken on the wheedling quality that it always did when she was laughing at his expense. “Please don’t leave me, darling. I can’t do this without you.”

“I’ll rot first,” Astarion snapped, and he heard Tav stifle a snort of laughter in her own arm. A few rustles followed as she clearly settled down to wait on the other side of the cell wall; Astarion guessed they were roughly back to back, even if six inches of solid stone separated them. He stretched out his legs in the thin, disgusting straw that covered the prison floor, crossed his bare ankles, and closed his eyes. “How utterly useless you are.”

“I’m not the one in Heapside.”

“For once in your life,” Astarion said bitterly, and he heard her laugh again. “Wretched, half-witted clod. Watching me paraded away by three Fists—three of them—for no reason at all. Not even an attempt to save me. An innocent man!”

“You stole a melon in broad daylight.”

“Half a melon. From an abandoned picnic blanket in the middle of the park without a single soul in sight to complain.” He curled his lip in annoyance. “I’d picked it up for you, darling.”

“Liar.”

She was right—he’d taken it as idly as Gale humming while he cooked—but Astarion was in no mood to entertain conciliation. “Well! As charming as it is to sit here and listen to you gloat, my dear, I apparently have a gods-damned sentencing to await.” He thumped his head back against the wall in annoyance. “Nearly two hundred years successfully avoiding this execrable place, and you have me slung in here within a handful of months.”

“I just wanted to share the joy with you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Shut up in there,” one of the guards said sharply. He rattled a cudgel against the bars of Astarion’s cell, then peered into the dim shadows. “Who the hells are you talking to?”

“Myself, darling,” Astarion drawled. “The best company one can dredge up in this awful place.” He rapped a knuckle against the wall behind his head. “Tell me, what’s behind here? Storage? Another cell?” He leered. “Somewhere you and I might be a little more…private?”

“Fink,” he heard Tav breathe through the cracked stone.

The guard flinched, blushed, and smacked the iron bars again. “Nothing for you to care about. Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you.”

“I suppose my fortitude is robust enough to endure the mystery,” Astarion said aloud, and the guard continued on his route, still grumbling. After a moment, with the last bare vestiges of his temper, Astarion hissed, “Well?”

A series of images raised themselves before his mind’s eye, like a cardsharp rifling through a trick deck. A loose stone about two feet to his left, displaced just enough for Tav to slide through a wrapped set of her lockpicks. A great storage chest in the middle of the main prison floor, made of oak and reinforced with iron straps, where all his stripped belongings had been stored. A view of the main room through a cracked door—the door to the privy hallway where Tav was hidden—and the pair of guards playing checkers at the back table, swords ready at hand beside them.

Excellent. He didn’t bother to work out a plan—they never seemed to come right anyway—but as he laid one surreptitious hand on the loose stone, he felt Tav hold it in place from the other side, preventing him from taking the tools. “Please, darling. Don’t be a bore.”

“Tell me you can’t do it without me.”

“I’ll shout your name to the bloody rafters if you don’t let go.”

“How stupid that I still love you,” he heard her sigh, and the stone released.

Ignoring the swoop his heart gave at that, Astarion quickly unrolled the leather and perused her tools. This part of his cell was exceedingly dark, and he had to pause with affected unconcern for a moment or two as the patrolling guard made another lap. Even so, he could see enough to be disgusted. “Ugh.”

“What?”

“Your tension wrench has a bend in the neck.” He grimaced. “And your long rake is missing altogether. Darling, you live like this?”

“Why would I need a rake when I have the half-diamond?” Ah, there was real irritation in her voice now. Entertainment at last. “And you bent the tension rod, remember? When you borrowed it in the basement of Sorcerous Sundries, after your own melted in that fire trap.”

“I don’t recall,” he said in that offhanded way that he knew infuriated her, and he tucked the rest of the rolled-up toolkit into his shirtsleeve. “Honestly! I’m amazed you’ve ever unlocked anything lately.”

The gasp of outrage made him choke on his own laughter. “Idiot!” she said, the whisper almost slipping into full voice, and then he heard a shuffle behind the wall. “You’re on your own. Tymora keep you in your escape, because I certainly won’t.”

“Come now, darling, don’t be petty.” Astarion paused, but there was no answering retort, no further whisper or step. He reached out with the tadpole, but it rebounded off her mind like a hammer off an anvil, and he winced at the recoil.

She’d wholly shut him out. She’d actually left him here in this Heapside cell by himself. He was shocked at his own dismay. “Tavish? I demand you come back.”

“I told you to shut up in there!”

Silence.

Gods. She’d left him. Two hundred years knowing himself utterly alone and friendless, and the betrayal still felt as new and agonizing as a white-hot poker between the ribs. Gods below. He wanted to rip out his dead heart and crush it. He knew he could get out easily with what she’d slipped him—knew these cells would be as porous as she’d described—but by the Hells, that wasn’t the point—

“What are you waiting for?” Tav hissed.

Relief crashed over him like an upturned bucket of water. “I thought you’d left,” he gasped, unable to pretend away the fear.

“I would never really leave you,” she said shortly, as if it were obvious. Her voice was a little further away, he realized, and a little lower, as if she’d crouched deeper in some shadow, but she was still here, still with him, and the tremendous comfort that provided was at once appalling and invigorating. “I wouldn’t leave my worst enemy here. Well—maybe Gortash, I guess. But you? No. Never.”

“Good,” Astarion said, thoroughly shaken. “I’d hate to have to snap this tension wrench the rest of the way.”

“I’ll snap your fingers if you do. Are you ready?”

“Naturally, darling. Do try to keep up.” He clambered to his feet, stretched, then went to the door of his cell, where he casually folded his arms against the bars. “Guard! Oh, guard! Come here—something’s the matter with my lodgings.”

“Tyr’s right hand,” the man sighed, circling the room’s central pillar to come to him. “You’re noisier than a fleet of jackdaws. What’s wrong with you now?”

“Any number of things,” Astarion said, letting the annoyance bleed through every word. As the guard reached his door, a shadow flickered behind him. It was gone in an instant, and a moment later one of the braziers on the pillar went out with a little puff of smoke. “I’ll settle at the moment for the straw, however.”

“The straw?”

He swept his arm grandly behind him. “Look at it! Thin, damp, and utterly reeking of piss. My dear boy, these aren’t fit conditions for a dog, much less a man.” He could barely make out the shape of the chest that held his belongings in the deepened shadows, but he thought he saw the lid lift an inch or two, pause, then lift a few inches more. “Oh! How curious…hm.”

The guard took a few hesitant steps nearer, hand on his cudgel. “What? What is it? What are you looking at?”

“Your eyes. They nearly glow in the lamplight.” He let his voice drop into his chest, low and rumbling, and turned his head so that the curl of his close-mouthed smile caught the torches. “They’re…beautiful. That’s all. Captivating, really.”

“What does he want?” called one of the guards playing checkers.

“Nothing, nothing!” Even in the dimness Astarion could see the man was blushing furiously. Gods, how easy it was to slip back into all of this, like reaching for some ancient tattered overcoat at the start of winter. Not warm, not beloved, not even attractive—just the only functional defense one had against freezing to death. “Captivating,” the man repeated, a little amazed, and then he gave a self-conscious laugh. “Oh. Because you’re—because you’re captive.”

Disgusting. A wit. Astarion snaked a hand between the bars and ran a finger up the man’s armored stomach. “And charming, too. What a pity.”

In his periphery, the lid of the wooden chest dropped silently shut. The shadow darted back behind the pillar while the man was staring cross-eyed at Astarion’s finger; a moment later Tav straightened up directly behind the guard, peering at Astarion over the man’s shoulder. Her eyebrows were raised in question.

The fight to keep his face still was monumental. Little idiot!

The man gave a startled, awkward laugh into the quiet and began to back away. Astarion hooked a finger in his collar like lightning and dragged him an inch or two nearer the bars. “You know, darling, this cell’s rather big for one person. A man might find himself lonely if he’s left here long enough. You know…” He licked his lips. “Frustrated.”

Tav rolled her eyes over the guard’s shoulder, but she noiselessly dipped away into the dark again as the guard stammered and babbled. After a few seconds Astarion saw the door on the far side of the room crack open, revealing a glimpse of stairs beyond, then close. He waited a few minutes more, idly toying with the guard’s belt as he murmured something nonsensical about candlelight, and then the door opened and closed again without a sound. Perfect.

“But you’re—you’re so beautiful,” the man was saying, and the very small portion of Astarion that was still listening gave a polished, tittering laugh. “I reckon I probably shouldn’t have—you know. Told you to shut up.”

“You’ll think of a way to make it up to me,” Astarion purred, and the entire prison rattled with a brief but deafening explosion.

Dust and grit cascaded down around them. Astarion’s guard didn’t yelp, but the other two did, and all of them waited in breathless silence for the braziers to stop trembling. The explosion had come from directly above the prison’s main room, and Astarion could hear shouts and calls of worry over many pounding feet.

“We’d better—” one of the guards at the checkerboard said, and she and her partner rose and hurried through the far door to the stairs—after unlocking it first, which Astarion found immensely satisfying. The guard at Astarion’s cell hesitated, glancing back and forth between Astarion and the door where they’d disappeared; eventually the fear won, and he trotted with one hand on his cudgel to the base of the stairs and peered up after his comrades.

As effortless and choreographed as a dance. The moment the guard’s back was turned Astarion had the lock undone, even with Tav’s wretched half-diamond and bent tension wrench. In a trice he was out of the cell altogether, the dagger Tav had slipped him via the guard’s belt firm in his grip.

She’d understood his need for a blade, even with picks in hand. She knew better than most the difference between being loose and being free.

Another brazier winked out with a puff of smoke. Astarion spared a precious few seconds to relock the cell door behind him—if she could do it, so could he, and it would be hilarious besides—and as he finished he felt Tav’s hand alight on the small of his back. He raised his arms for her to rebuckle his belt around his waist; in the same motion he returned her picks to their leather case and hooked the case itself to her hip. The belt’s leather tongue hissed as she drew it taut, and the returned weight of his sheathed knife was a comfort in itself.

The dagger he kept bare in his hand. For an instant his eyes fell on the guard still standing at the bottom of the stairs. The throw would be effortless, even in the dark. Simple. Clean. The smart thing to do, really.

But Tav wouldn’t like it. He knew she wouldn’t, as sure as he knew their next steps in this silent waltz, and with a grimace he turned away from the guard. She lifted her eyebrows again; he gestured impatiently, and she gave a slow, sweet smile before hooking a hand around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss.

Ah. An improvisation, and one Astarion enjoyed very much, even here. He sighed through his nose, the weight of the last few hours rolling away like the coins from a spilled purse, and he slid an arm around her waist. His own pack obstructed his way briefly, the straps far too long for her shorter frame, but she arched into his chest anyway with her habitual eagerness, and that was more than enough.

Gods. How easy it became to endure every trial the city might conjure up when he knew Tav would be waiting for him at the end of it.

“I have a confession, darling,” he breathed against her mouth. A second, much smaller explosion went off upstairs to a chorus of startled cries.

Tav’s eyes were bright with humor. “Hm?”

“As it happens, I’d rather not do this without you.”

“Mm,” she said, satisfaction thrumming through the sound, and she kissed him again.

Ah, but they were pushing their luck already. Despite every part of him yearning to cling to Tav until the prison came down around them, he released her when she pulled away, and when she led him by the hand back through the privy door he followed without complaint. She locked the door behind them; he broke the bolt in place. He’d very much miss seeing the guard’s look of stupid shock, but—

“Here,” Tav whispered in his ear. She slid aside a stone about the length of a finger, just wide enough for Astarion to peer through if he crouched a bit. “Found this about eight months ago.”

“The gifts you give me, my dear,” he breathed, and he felt her vibrate with laughter against him. It took a little jostling, but they managed to find a position where they both could see, and they watched together as the guard at last came back around the pillar, glanced over, and paused with comic confusion at the sight of the empty cell.

“Uh,” the man said aloud. He crossed to the cell door, jostled it, and then unlocked it with a key from his pocket. He stepped into the cell itself with a series of useless looks to the walls, the scattered straw, and inexplicably the ceiling, as if he expected to find Astarion clinging upside-down to the stone, then came out and stared helplessly at the empty room. “Uh,” he said again, much higher, and then with obvious panic he quick-marched himself up the far stairs and out of sight.

Still laughing, Tav led Astarion back along the privy hall, past the privy itself, and then through a small broken grating about halfway up the wall. It was a tight squeeze for Astarion, though he made do by pinching Tav’s ankles every time she paused, and soon enough they stood on a small stone ledge overlooking a reasonably finished portion of the sewers. Another much larger grate to their right let in a considerable amount of afternoon sunlight, and Astarion stretched catlike in its warmth.

“An acceptable rescue, I take it,” Tav said, watching him. That damnable smile still played over her mouth; Astarion wanted very badly to kiss it.

“A little lengthy, I thought,” he said instead, and settled for resting his fingers alongside her throat. “And it all involved me spending rather too much time with a very dull idiot. Though I suppose I can’t really complain, seeing as I am, in fact, free once more. Here, darling, for you. Never let it be said you found me ungrateful.”

“What’s this?”

“Only a small trifle,” he said, and watched with tremendous satisfaction as she opened the clinking bag.

“Astarion!” Her eyes lit with genuine delight, and she ran her fingers through the gold like water. “You lifted this for me? Really?”

“Every coin he had,” he said, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek the satisfaction in his chest brimmed over into an ocean. “Besides, my dear, I suspect you’ll need it. How much alchemist’s fire did you use, anyway? I thought the walls might come down around my ears.”

“Every vial we had,” she admitted, and she gave him a proper, if woefully brief, kiss on the mouth. “I thought the first match hadn’t taken, so I threw three more. Thank Gond the mortar held. Here, take back your pack. It’s heavy.”

“And you’ve all the strength of a damp tissue,” Astarion said, but he lifted the pack from her shoulders. A glimpse of something beneath the half-latched flap made him pause. “What have you done?”

“I thought you might want it back,” Tav said, the picture of perfect innocence. “Seeing as it started this whole mess in the first place.”

“You ghastly thing,” Astarion said, fangs bared, and with a great deal of prejudice he slung the blasted sunmelon as deep into the sewers as he could. It bounced twice, then disappeared into a small algae-choked pond with a sploosh. “How fortunate you have other charms.”

“Yes,” Tav agreed, linking her fingers through his, and they climbed together from the sewers into the clean, sweet air of the sunlit afternoon.

—

end.

—

For the record, Astarion's melon incident is adapted from this series of in-game events.

[atrophiedemotion]

Castor how do we. How do we convince everyone in the whole wide world that Ivan isn't a masochistic individual that only wishes to gratify himself. How do we convince everyone that he wasn't trying to kill Till in round 6. How do we convince everyone that he didn't want to do anything to Till in that casino-karaoke-bar and was just trying to comfort Till and himself from what they just had to gone through. How do we convince everyone that Ivan is actually just very mentally ill and has trouble when it comes to interacting others and Till

Good anaylsis posts btw

*cracks knuckles* you came to the right place, fellow ivan understander. that's honestly the main reason i make my analysis posts, to try to express the humanity in ivan. because he is an incredibly written character and all of those mischaracterizations you're describing are so far from the truth it hurts.

at a base level, there’s a whole thing to be said about the way people treat/view mentally ill individuals (especially those with stigmatized disorders) that plays into this (ivan has undesirable traits due to mental illness that many just decide to write off as him “being a freak” and romanticizing/sexualizing it instead of trying to understand) but i won’t get it into that here

i think the thing with ivan is that because he can't experience emotion or express himself in conventional or "normal" ways, it takes proper reading into (cough. media literacy) to understand his character. you can't just watch the content and immediately get his motivations and personality, it takes multiple watch throughs, knowledge of the extra content, and taking his past into consideration to get a clearer picture.

this is true for every alnst character and video ofc, but the reason it's such a big thing for ivan is because his outward personality post meteor shower incident is a fabrication. the entire point of us getting glimpses into ivan's mind is so that we can see that he ISN'T what he portrays himself as. and this goes for more than just his charismatic personality- it goes for the unusual ways he expresses himself.

we see ivan as a contradiction. we see both the 'perfect' person he wants people to see and the extremely flawed person he sees himself as. neither are completely accurate. ivan's view of himself is so skewed it's unreliable. the only way to truly understand him is to put the work in to find out why.

this isn't exactly an answer to your question/plea, but i've been asking myself the same thing for months. ivan is a really complicated character, more complicated than most people care to fully dig into. in fanon (from what i've seen) he seems to fall into two categories: the persona he puts on, and an "obsessive insane freak". both are very baseline things we see, because that's how ivan sees himself. fake on the outside and a 'shitty' person on the inside.

to me, the point of ivan's character is to look past both of those. to question them and his actions, to wonder what his motivations are. once you get to the point of "oh wow, this was all either for the purpose of survival or because he literally has no idea how to interact with people", things become a lot clearer. we just have to hope people can make the effort to read into things, i guess.

(thank you! great ask, i've been rotating it around in my head for like an hour lmao)

[aanoia]

How Well Do We Know Each Other (interview)

Obx cast x reader (Rudy Pankow x reader, not much mentions tho)

Summary; the obx cast gets put to the test on how well they know their coworkers

Warnings; drug mention, not proofread

Words; 3,330

I kinda hate this, but I kinda love it. I hate how many times I used the word laugh though.

Also, I got totally lost with points so I made them up so you would win.

Also, why can't I find any GIFS of the whole cast?

Requests are welcome and encouraged! I have an anon submission box and you can ask in comments!

“We’re rolling in three,” I cleared my throat and adjusted the way I was sitting as the director called out. My boyfriend, Rudy, who was sitting next to me ran his hand through his hair and Jonathan, who sat on the other side of me, cracked his knuckles.. “Two, one.”

Madelyn began talking with a laugh, “We’re the cast of Outer Banks and we’re here to test each other on-”

“Nope.” Chase said, shaking his head with a smile and we all left as the cameras cut.

“Take two.” The director said.

“I am Madelyn Cline and we are here to test how well we know each other.” Madelyn tried again and I shook my head.

“Thank God.” Chase muttered.

“And we also the cast-” Austin started.

“We’re also the cast of Outer Banks!” We all said in unison and began laughing again.

“Cut! Take three.”

“I’m Madelyn Cline, and we’re the cast of Outer Banks.” She motioned towards us and I waved to the camera with a smile. “And we are here to test how well we know each other.

“Yeah!” We cheered as we clapped.

Madelyn held up the card, “What astrological sign do I like the most other than mine?” She asked.

“Do you like the most?” Madison clarified.

“Yeah.”

“Scorpio.” Carlacia said. “Taurus.”

“Capricorn, duh.” I said with a smile.

“Woah, woah, woah, wait.” Jonathan started. “One response, per person.”

Drew got up and leaned over to the side. “Drew, stop cheating.” I said.

“Drew, don’t you cheat.” Chase said as Drew sat back down.

“I’m not.” He defended.

“Or Capricorn, I agree with Y/n. I’m gonna go with Capricorn.” Madison decided and I high fived her.

“I’m gonna say Gemini.” Drew said as Jonathan was saying Gemini.

“Ah, I was about to say Gemini.” Jonathan complained.

“I was just thinking the movie Gemini Man.” Chase said.

“No, Geminis are crazy.” Jonathan decided. “I’m going to go Aquarius.”

Madelyn smiled as she turned the card around, “Gemini women.”

I snorted as everyone laughed. Drew held up his hands in a “what did I tell you?” way as Jonathan protested.

“Ah, he didn’t specify.” He tried.

Madelyn moved on, “What am I most likely to do when I’m not filming?”

“I’m gonna go Call Of Duty.” Austin said and I laughed.

“I think you’re gonna chill at home with a glass of wine.” Madison said.

“Cards Against Humanity. I don’t know.” Rudy said, his hand resting on my knee.

“By myself?” Madelyn laughed.

“Hm, sleep.” I said simply and Madison laughed.

“Okay, well I have a couple. Actually three.” Madelyn informed us and we laughed again. “Um, napping.” I put my hands up in victory.

“I’m so smart.” I bragged, looking straight into the camera and pointing at my head. “Come to me with all of your problems, and they will be solved with the low cost of five dollars.”

“Stop self promoting.” Jonathan deadpanned and I flipped him off.

“Um, wine.” Madelyn continued. “All natural. Natty wines.” Madison snorted. “Or doing Austin impressions to myself.”

I pointed at her, “Oh that’s fun. Mhm.”

“Right?” She said with a smile.

“It’s an honor, thank you.” Austin said with a hand on his heart. “Have you perfected it yet?”

“You’re perfect.” She imitated with a laugh. “What is my pet peeve?” She asked.

“Your car window getting broken, like four times.” Austin said

“In a year.” She added.

“I think that’s a pet peeve. That’s solid.” Madison agreed.

“Being like, talked down to.” Jonathan said.

“Yeah, changing out of pajamas.” Rudy guessed.

“Hm, that’s good.” I told him quietly.

“Like, mansplaining and stuff.” Jonathan continued.

“Getting out of your pajamas.” Rudy repeated.

“Not going to the spa?” Carlacia asked.

“So, JD, you were close. Being told what to do.” Madelyn said.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” He agreed.

We rearranged as Drew got up to the seat.

“Purple nurple. Is it hot in the hot seat?” Chase asked.

“First question. What’s my secret talent? Bonus, where did I learn my talent?” Drew started.

“Sleeping.” Carlacia said.

“Insomnia.” Jonathan said right after.

“Guitar, piano. It’s an instrument.” Madison said.

“Well, what’s happening right now is you’re just giving me a lot of ideas.” Drew explained.

“Write it down.” Carlacia told him. “Cause you look like you’re waiting for us to tell you.”

“Yeah.” He said and wrote down his answer.

“Probably juggling.” Rudy said quietly, but not everyone heard him.

“I saw him playing harmonica with the monkeys.” I pointed out.

“With the monkeys?” Madison asked and I nodded.

“Oh, I can see that.” Austin said.

“When was he serenading?” Madison laughed.

“When the monkey swiped the drink.” I explained as Madison imitated playing a harmonica.

“Alright. My secret talent. I think I did hear someone say it. Which is juggling.” Rudy clapped his hands and I smiled at him. “Um, as a bonus though, uh insomnia is my secret talent.”

“Yeah.” Jonathan agreed.

“Who is my favorite Outer Banks character?”

“Barry.” Chase and Madison said together.

“Come on, that's easy.” Jonathan said.

“We know this.” Carlacia chimed in.

“I’m gonna say Shoupe.” Rudy said.

“Wheezie F baby, Wheezie F.” Madison said and I nodded my head.

“Yeah, Wheezie. Or C/n, because she’s just so hot and great, y’know?” I said with a smug smile while dramatically flipping my hair.

“Oh, for real.” Madelyn agreed as Rudy nodded in approval.

“Is it Ward Cameron?” Jonathan asked.

“No, it is Barry.” Drew said and flipped the card to face the camera. “Except C/n is pretty great.”

“I agree.” I nodded.

“That’s a point, can we count that one.” Chase said to the producers in the back.

“If I could live anywhere in the world, where would I live?” Drew asked.

“I’m tempted to say Bikini Bottom.” Carlacia said and we laughed. “But I’m gonna not.”

“Bikini Bottom.” Rudy repeated.

“North Carolina.” Madelyn said as she laughed and Drew flipped the card which said North Carolina and we all laughed.

“You can see right through that. I saw it too.” Jonathan laughed.

“Hickory, North Carolina.” Austin said.

“Hickory, North Carolina.” Drew repeated.

“No, just put North Carolina.”

“North Carolina. Asheville, North Carolina. That’s my favorite place on Earth.”

“Aw. The Outer Banks.” Madelyn said.

“Paradise on Earth.” I said as Drew threw the card.

“Who’s up?” He asked.

Jonathan sat on the seat. “You ready?” He asked. “Settle down, class. Here we go, first question. What’s my favorite TV show of all time?”

“I know what it is. Go ahead, write it down.” Madison said.

“It’s Boondocks!” Madison, Carlacia and I all said in unison before all high fiving each other.

“It is Boondocks.” Jonathan said with a nod, turning his card to face the camera.

“Sunny Philadelphia?” Austin asked.

“Ooo, always Sunny Philadelphia close second. Hilarious.” Jonathan deadpanned. “Alright, two. What is my favorite soda? And I don’t really drink soda.”

“Crap, it’s root beer.” I said, trying to think of the brand.

“A and W root beer.” Carlacia said.

“It’s not A and W but it is root beer.” Jonathan said.

“Mugs?” Madison asked.

“It’s not Mugs.”

“Oh! Barks!” I exclaimed, pointing at him. “It’s what they have in Texas!”

“Yes, it’s Barks. That’s what they had in Wataburg, Texas. But other than that I don’t really drink soda. Now this is a trick question, because I think you all think you know the answer.” Jonathan said.

“Write down your answers.” Madison said as the boys kept talking over everyone.

“Boys, boys, boys, boys, boys.” Jonathan said, keeping up the teacher act.

“I apologize.” Chase said.

“What’s my go-to snack on set? Now, this has changed since the first season and everybodies gonna yell out fruit snacks. It’s not that.”

“Vickie’s jalapeno chips.” Madison said.

“Goddamnit, Madison.” Jonathan said with a smile and we all laughed. “Give everybody a chance. Alright, I’m gonna write down a second answer too. So everybody can know my second favorite too.”

“I feel like it’s flaming hot cheetos when they got ‘em.” Carlacia said.

“That’s Vickie’s. Vickie’s takes that spot.”

“Then fruit-roll up?” Rudy guessed.

“It’s fruit by the foot, actually.” I said while rolling my eyes.

“Fruit-roll up, or fruit by the foot. What do you say, Chase?”

“I’m thinking, come back to me.” Chase responded.

“Sour patch kid roll up thing?” Austin guessed.

“That’s not a thing.”

“Anyone up there got a guess?” Jonathan asked us.

“Cheez-its?”

“I’m just gonna go with the classic, Lays?”

“Again, it can’t be chips because that’s Vickie’s.”

“Honeybuns?” I asked.

“Uh, it’s goldfish. But Honeybuns too.”

“Does that count?” I asked and looked behind the cameras to the producers. “Does that count?” They shook their heads and I deflated with a pout as Drew patted my head and Rudy wrapped his arm around me and rubbed my arm.

“But goldfish is a chip.”

“It’s a cracker. It’s in the cracker aisle.” Jonathan defended.

“Is goldfish a chip?” Rudy asked the camera.

“It’s a- it’s a cracker?” Austin said unsurely.

“I’m gonna win this one.” I said as Rudy sat on the chair dramatically, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You better.” He said, pointing at me. “Uh, there’s two things, the two things to this question, uh, what am I certified in?” He asked.

“Kayaking.” A bunch of people said.

“Yeah, kayaking and climbing.” I agreed.

“Yeah, it’s kayaking, which I don’t know if I spelled that right, and climbing.” He said, pointing his card to the camera.

“Two of the most Alaskan things possible.” Jonathan said and I nodded my head with a laugh.

Quick point update. I have the most points, four, then Madison with three, Carlacia, Chase, and Jonathan all have two, and the rest have one.

“This one’s kinda weird, how many instruments do I play?”

“How is that weird?” I asked and he just shrugged with a smile. Lots of threes rung out.

“Wait, at what skill level?” Jonathan asked.

“That’s the question now, isn’t it?” Rudy laughed.

“I feel like we can all play something.” Calracia said.

“Cause I’m thinking the kazoo.”

“Yeah the kazoo!” Rudy laughed, doubling over in his chair.

“Yeah and then we got the maracas and the flute.” Jonathan said.

“The triangle.” Madelyn said.

“It’s definitely harmonica.” Chase said.

“Harmonica and guitar.” Madison listed.

“Drums.”

“I was gonna say ukulele.”

“He plays the drums too.”

“So, I’m gonna say 2.5.” Rudy said. “And I’m gonna even count like the piano. But I play harmonica and percussion. The drums.”

“Oh.” Austin said in realization.

“Yeah we bond over them.”

“The one person that should know.”

Austin sat down and grabbed the marker from Rudy.

“How old was I when I started playing drums?” Austin asked.

“Nine.” Madelyn said immediately.

“Right out of the womb.” Chase said.

“What?” Austin said, pointing at Madelyn.

“Wow, Cline.” I commented.

“You saw it.” Drew accused.

“No.”

“I’m not saying that’s correct. We can keep going.” Austin said. “It’s nine.” He said in disbelief.

“Give us another age.” Jonathan said.

“What is the first thing I do in the morning?” Austin asked.

“Check your phone.”

“Wake up?” I said.

“Uh, just breathe.”

“Brush your teeth?”

“Check your phone.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, take out your little soldiers.”

“Brush your teeth!”

“Go to the gym.”

“Invisalign?” Chase asked.

“Chase got it. Take out my night guard. But Y/n was also correct, give her a point too, I do wake up first thing in the morning.”

“I’m so cool.” I bragged.

“What’s my most prized possession?”

“Your drum set.” Rudy said with a laugh.

“Is it Blueberry?” Madelyn asked.

“The range?” Madison guessed as Rudy asked Madelyn what Blueberry was.

“The car, the BMW.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah, for sure your car.” I said. “That thing was a lot of moolah.”

“I’m gonna go with the old, uh, bounce house that you got for Christmas.” Jonathan said, his arms crossed.

“Oh, when I was eight?” Austin laughed.

“When you were eight, yeah.”

“Thought Christmas was over and went downstairs to the basement and there’s a jumpy house!” Austin explained.

“My car.”

“Dude, why did you write it like you’re four years old?” Chase asked.

“Alright, good job, you guys know me pretty well.” Austin said and hnaded the Sharpie to Madison.

“This is the hot seat, huh?” She asked. “Okay.” She looked at the question and gasped. “Do I know how to spell this? I’m gonna write it small.” She said in a higher pitched voice. “What word would I use to describe myself?” She asked in her normal voice.

“Whoo.” Calracia said with loud laughs. I pursed my lips with a smile.

“The S-A-T word?”

“This is blasphemy!” Carlacia said and the whole cast laughed.

“Green.” Drew said with a straight face.

“She can’t spell green?” Jonathan asked.

“Yeah, there’s your hint.” Madison laughed.

“I’m gonna go with- Earthy. I don’t know.”

“I feel like you’re tidy.” Austin said.

“Yeah, I’m going with earthy.” Rudy agreed. “You said earthy, that was a pretty good one.”

“What’s the word you can’t spell?” Carlacia asked and Madison flipped her card.

“Independant.”

I nodded, “That is difficult. For sure.”

“I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T! Do you know what that means? Hey!” The cast sang with large smiles.

“I covered my mouth because I’m over here like I-N-D-E-P-” Madison said and we all laughed.

“How did I meet my girlfriend?” She asked.

“Tikity Tokity.” I said as everyone said some version of Tik Tok.

“There’s gotta be some like, some OBX super fan getting all of these right, right now.” Jonathan said and I nodded.

“It’s me.” I said.

“Sure. But to you, we say thank you.” Jonathan said to the camera.

“What is my favorite movie?”

“Legally Blonde.” Chase said automatically.

“Pursuit of Happyness.” Jonathan guessed..

“Bambi.”

“Nacho Libre.”

“Princess Diaries?” Austin said unsurely.

“Solid movie.” Madison agreed. “JD got it, it is the Pursuit of Happyness. And it’s supposed to be spelled wrong, before I get cranked.”

“Oh, this is a great question.” Carlacia said as she sat down. “What am I most likely to spend my money on?”

“Drugs.” I said confidently, making the whole cast burst out laughing.

“Sneakers.” Madison said once she calmed down.

“Oh!” Carlacia laughed pointing at Madison.

“Sneakers!” Austin said, mocking Carlacias hand motions. “Jordans?”

“Good ass food?”

“Clothes.”

“Fashion. I just think it’s fashion. Just say fashion cause it’s all of it.” Jonathan said and I nodded.

“I change my answer to the entirety of fashion.” I said with a proud smile.

“You can’t do that, cheater.” Jonathan said, crossing his arms.

“Watch me.” I responded, also crossing my arms.

“Ladies, ladies, break it up.” Chase said.

“I have to change mine a little bit because they're probably right.” Carlacua said and I snorted. “I put shoes, but I spend a lot of money on fashion, cause y’know, shoes.”

(A/n, at this point I’ve lost track of points, so I’m kinda making them up) Point update. I have seven, still in the lead, Madison, Madelyn, Chase and Jonathan have five. Drew has four. Carlacia and Austin have three, and Rudy has two.

“Where is my favorite vacation spot?”

(There’s two way people say this, pick whichever you want)

“The Caribbean.” I said.

“It’s the Caribbean, not Caribbean.” Jonathan said, rolling his eyes.

“My bad, Hermione.” I said with a scoff.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna sum it up with the Caribbean.” Madison agreed.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s the Caribbean in general.” Calracia said with a smile. “That’s my favorite vacation spot. Shout out to the West Indies.”

“True or false: I have won a beauty pageant?”

“For sure it's true. You’ve also won my heart.” I said making a heart with my hands and she put her hand over her mouth, pretending to be flustered.

“Stealing my girl over here.” Rudy said and the cast laughed as I blew kisses to Carlacia.

Everyone else said it was true.

“If you didn't, you got robbed.” Madison said.

“Absolutely.” Jonathan said.

“It’s true. I have won a beauty pageant.”

“Yes! Carlacia, I'm your biggest fan, marry me!” I begged jokingly as the rest of the cast snapped their fingers.

“How many tattoos do I have? Bonus: Where are they?” Chase asked after he sat down.

“I feel like you probably have one on your ass.” I said and Drew nodded in agreement.

“There’s an ace, there’s a card.” Madison said, counting on her fingers. “There’s a dove.”

“Everytime I see you, you have three more.” Carlacia said.

“There’s a match.”

“Twelve.” I said with a nod, guessing a random number.

There was a bunch of crosstalk and guesses before Chase began talking.

“I think it’s twelve.” He said.

“Is that what I said?” Madison asked. “That’s what I said?”

“Yeah, we both said twelve.” I nodded.

“What other Netflix series did I appear in?” Chase asked.

“Stranger Things.” Everyone said together.

“I got four letters in then I realized my handwriting is that of a four year old, so, it’s just STRA.” He said, showing us the card.

I sat on the chair with a giddy smile. “It’s my turn.” I said in a sing-song voice and everyone laughed.

“I love how excited you are.” Carlacia said.

“I love you.” I responded while wiggling my eyebrows as she blew a kiss to me, which I pretended to catch and stick in my pocket.

“Ew.” Jonathan said plainly as I looked at the card.

What is my earliest memory?

I laughed evilly as I wrote down my answer.

“Oh Lord.”

“Mk. Guys, my dearest friends, what is my earliest memory?” I asked.

Rudy looked to the ceiling in thought.

“Is it when you peed your pants in second grade?” Austin asked and I gasped.

“You can’t say that on camera!” The cast laughed as I pouted.

“Getting the giant stuffed dog from your dads girlfriend.” Madison said confidently.

“That’s good.” Jonathan agreed.

“No, it’s the fishing trip.” Rudy said with a nod. “When you caught the biggest fish.”

I turned around my card which read “fishing trip” in large, bold letters.

“You’re right, Rudy. It’s the fishing trip.”

“Damn.” Madison said disappointed.

“I feel like Rudy has an unfair advantage here.” Chase said.

“Shh, they’re just in love.” Carlacia said.

“Guys, shush, it’s time for the next question. What sport did I play in middle and highschool?”

“Volleyball.” Everyone said.

“It’s all you want to do when we aren’t filming.” Austin said and I nodded, agreeing with him.

“Okay, the finale, what is my biggest secret?” I said and everyone was silent for a few moments.

“I have zero clue.” Madison said.

“I literally know zero of your secrets.” Jonathan said, getting a nod from Drew and Chase.

“I don’t know man.” Austin said, rubbing his neck.

“Is it that you used to write fanfiction?” Rudy asked.

“And?” I prompted.

“You would post it on Wattpad.”

“Ding ding ding!” I said.

“What did you write about?” Madelyn asked.

“Everything. I’m pretty sure one of my books got to like, 100k reads too.” I said.

“I’m not even surprised you wrote fanfiction.” Drew said.

“Okay guys, who do we think won out of this?” Chase asked.

“I’d say like-”

“I’m banking on you.”

“Drew?” Carlacia asked, looking at the scoreboard.

“Drew?” I repeated, looking for confirmation.

“How did Drew win?” Madison asked as Drew stood up, holding his arms out. The whole cast argued.

“False alarm.” Chase said. “It’s like the whole Miss Universe all over again.” He said as I wiggled my eyebrows at the camera, being the winner.

The whole cast began walking off the stage.

“So, can we play some volleyball?” I asked as Rudy wrapped his arm around my shoulders and groans rang out.

“No!” They yelled together and I laughed evilly, knowing I was going to force them to play anyway.

Unbeknownst to us, the camera was still rolling, and yes, they put that at the end of the video.

You could tell how tired I got towards the end by the lack of detail lmfao

[thedemonastrophel]

Alright SO

A bit ago I made this post, (here's a screenshot as well)

The conclusion of that is that, to my knowledge, this doesent exist.

Cracks knuckles.

I guess I'll have to do it myself.

[hotgirlgraps]

Battered

Streetfighter!hook

Synopsis: Hook isn’t just a ring name in AEW but you figure that out when it’s too late to stop him

Warnings: depictions of blood and injury, angst, cursing, violence

A/N: I caught the O’Malley vs Sterling fight in the break room and just couldn’t stop thinking about hook as an underground streetfighter for some reason lmao (and yes I know the boxers aren’t streetfighters but this is just where my mind went)

The low hood shadowed the thick, velvet scar crossing through the arch of his eyebrow, along with the puffed out lower left side of his lip that had an identical cut to match, but not as well as he intended.

“Where do these scars keep coming from?” You asked as you gently ran your thumb over one of the cuts.

“You know I’m a pro wrestler.” He muttered as he pulls his head away, trying to hide the wince from the pain that the slightest touch caused.

“You haven’t stepped in the ring in over a month, Tyler.” You deadpan, and he can practically feel your suspicions slicing through him, but he tries not to acknowledge that.

“I did some practice in the gym the other day and the dude got me.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll heal.”

But you didn’t believe him, and it wasn’t just due to the fresh scars that decorated his face either. Tyler was a horrible liar. He’d always been. He can never look you in the eyes when he fabricated the truth, which was exactly why he was staring down at his busted knuckles instead.

You took a moment to think, but you didn’t even need to. The truth was staring you right in the face and you were tired of pretending that it wasn’t.

“You’re streetfighting, aren’t you?”

You watched his shoulders immediately tense up, his teeth locking down behind his lips making his jaw bone throb. You rolled your eyes and looked away, unable to keep staring at those wounds on your boyfriend’s face.

“So when were you planning on telling me? After I have to see you in a hospital bed with a concussion? Or were you gonna just wait until you were in a coma and I had to find out for myself that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!”

“Stop.” He muttered, picking his head back up. “Just try to understand-“

“We talked about this so many times, Tyler! I told you exactly how I felt about you doing this! It’s dangerous! I’ve seen my dad get his skull cracked in half and you know that! Why do you want to do this shit?!”

“I love it.” He shrugs easily. “I love the thrill and the adrenaline. I love knocking bitch ass punks out cold. I love the hype. I was meant to do this, Y/N. I know I was.”

You felt your heart sink in your chest. Clearly seeing the passion bursting through those dark eyes when he told you what it means to him, but it kills you inside knowing that he’s chosen something so dangerous. Possibly deadly, and he doesn’t seem to give that any regard whatsoever.

“It’s not the way it was when your dad broke into it. It’s rough, but people aren’t built like they used to be. I haven’t gotten seriously hurt yet, and I’ve been doing this for-“ he pauses, dropping his eyes to the floor before he says, “about six months now.”

“Six months?!” You snapped, “are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Obviously im not.” He eyes you again. “I’m being dead serious because this is something I love. It’s a part of my life now, just like you are and I guess I’m just telling you so you’ll accept it, cause I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes but you forced them back. Tyler watched your eyes well up and had to advert his attention elsewhere so he didn’t have to see those tears slip down your cheeks.

“Look” he sighs, “I’ll bring you to one of my fights. You can see for yourself that you don’t have to worry about me. Nobody’s ever come close to knocking me out. Yeah I have a couple bruises and shit but that’s just how the shit goes. I hold my own out there and I dominate everyone that comes for me. I’m the last person you ever have to worry about.”

Well, that lead to you standing in the midst of a bunch of drunk, wild people in a rundown underground basement. You couldn’t help but to bite your nails down to the nub as you intensely watched two guys aggressively throwing still jabs to each other’s jaws.

It was already hard to breathe in the smoky haze but even worse when Tyler was announced. The crowd roared when he came out, fists taped up and wearing gear similar to what he wears in AEW, but he didn’t look like that Hook.

Everyone chanted his name, some people holding fifty and hundred dollar bills in the air as they bet on his win. You didn’t even realize he was such a crowd favorite, but that just cemented the fact that he’d been living this whole double life you knew nothing about for six months.

He stepped up and adjusted the tape wrapped tightly around his wrists to cover the tender flesh on his knuckles. The scars so deep that the second they make contact with anything, they’re pouring blood.

The man he was up against had a good three inches of height on him, but he had much more muscle mass than the man did. There was no intimidation on the surface. Hook appeared just as calm, cool and collected as he always did in AEW, but you quickly realized as soon as the first punch was thrown that this was completely different.

All you heard was hook chants and the sounds of knuckle crashing into bone. One stiff jab in particular caused Hook to stumble back, dazed a bit but all it did was piss him off, and then you realized just why everyone was betting on him.

Fury bursted out of him as he threw his fists straight into the eye sockets, the jaw and the teeth of his opponent. He was a quick shooter. His opponent tried to block the shots to the face so Hook strikes them to the ribs instead, landing an uppercut when his opponent folded over.

But as soon as you thought the fight was going to come to a quick end, hook’s opponent reared his shoulder into his gut and slammed him down to the floor. The impact of your boyfriend’s spine crashing against the concrete make your stomach churn. You felt nauseas, hands trembling as you watched him getting punched everywhere that was visible.

He was trapped beneath his opponent, his knees digging into Hook’s rib cage preventing him from breaking free and all he could do was block those deadly punches as best as he could.

The chants only got louder and louder and it gave him more momentum. The crowd, but especially knowing you were out there in it.

In a desperate attempt to gain some leverage, when the next punch was thrown, hook caught it with his left hand, his right hand connecting directly into the teeth of his opponent, cracking one right down the center.

Blood oozed from the man’s mouth, leaving droplets all over Hook’s chest. He quickly reversed the roles and rolled himself on top of his battered opponent, his knees digging into the shoulders to keep the man from having any defense. With the man trapped underneath, Hook’s fists flew at a deadly speed, pounding into the man’s face until there was blood pouring out of every crevice on his skin.

He wasn’t satisfied until his opponent was limp. One good stiff jab to the jaw button followed by three clocks to the bridge of the nose and his opponent’s eyes rolled back, his entire body giving up any source of fight he could’ve possibly mustered.

The crowd erupted in wild screams when hook got off of him. He wiped the smeared blood from his bottom lip with the back of his hand, tainting the white tape with crimson to match his opponent’s blood all over his body and the floor.

He raised both arms up, eliciting more screams from the crowd before he scanned his eyes all around that smoky room, finding you within seconds. You had mixed reactions and he could see that, but all he was worried about was making sure he showed you that this is what he’s best at. This is what he loves. This is what he wants.

He made his way towards you, red welts all over his chest and neck and tinges of blood everywhere you could see. He pushed through the people in front of you until he was standing inches apart, his bloody, slick hand cupping your cheek before he crashed his lips with yours.

He was so amped up and you could feel that in the kiss. The passionate force behind his lips colliding with yours left you breathless when he pulled back.

He dropped his hand from your cheek to your hip and noticed the blood smearing across your skin that he left there.

As if he was reading your mind, he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you, blood staining on your clothes but neither he or you cared. You hugged him back, holding onto him for dear life he felt like. Your body was still shaking and nerves still wracking around within you but you couldn’t deny the fact that he really did dominate out there, just like he said. And it was clear more than ever that this was something he loves. Something he wouldn’t give up.

“You’re a badass.” You mumbled into his slick chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “But listen to me, Senerchia, cause I’m only gonna say this once. You better not die on me, or I’ll bring you back to life and kill you myself.”

He pulls back and looks down at you, his eyes wide and wild and hair even more so, but a slight smirk tipping up his lips distracted you from all that. All the blood smeared on his skin and the welts that were soon bruises. That smile out-shown all of it.

“Never gotta worry about that, baby. I’m never leaving you.”

He placed another kiss to your lips briefly, leaving the taste of salty sweat and metallic in your mouth before he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd, avoiding the people around trying to congratulate him and get him to sign things because all he was worried about was getting you home.

“Where are we going? I thought there were more fights? You don’t wanna stay and watch?”

“Nah” he smirks as the cold, New York air greets you both. “I got a lot of adrenaline pumping right now, im not wasting it.”