#fresh post from rip blog

[plague-of-insomnia]

I can’t reblog the original bc OP blocked me before they deactivated (imo it’s ridiculous that a dead blog’s blocked list is still active but w/e).

I definitely would love to develop this into a oneshot… maybe for Halloween this year…. 🤞🏻

{I don’t have the spoons to do alt text for this rn sorry)

[mspeevee]

aaand blog launched, tee hee.

just for users to know, this is my new semi art blog semi personal blog. my main art blog is @aibouart . I've been active within pokeask community for years, so if you recognise me it might be that. or my bunsong youtube. or my smolsix blog, probably.

just making the post to solidify that and all that. esp for anyone i follow, if they decide to check my blog. currently empty as it's freshly made as a new main blog. i won't be posting vent posts here, i'll be keeping that to my vent blog~ will still mostly be active on my art blog tho if you're looking to contact me asap.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

I Need You

George Russell x Fem!Reader

Requested: A anon who sent me a beautiful message had requested something George related so I made it smut.

Warnings: SMUT

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

F1 Masterlist

The celebrations were in full swing. George, the dashing Formula 1 driver, had just won his second Grand Prix in Austria, and the team was ecstatic.

The champagne flowed freely, and the atmosphere was electric. Among the well-wishers was me, George's girlfriend of two months. I was stunning, with shimmering eyes that seemed to see right through him, and I had a body that captivated his imagination.

As the party continued, George and I found ourselves locked in an intense gaze. It was as if the world around us had melted away, and only we existed. George felt his desire for me intensifying with each passing second. He knew he had to have me, but he didn't want to rush things. Our relationship was still fresh, and he wanted to respect that.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with longing. "But I don't want to rush. Are you sure about this?"

my heart pounded in my chest. I had desired this man from the moment I laid eyes on him, and now, here he was, offering me something even more intimate. I bit my lip, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I've wanted you from the start, George. I'm not going to say no now."

Without another word, George took my hand and led me away from the celebrations.

We made our way to his driver's room, a private space where he could relax between races. As soon as the door closed behind us, the passion that had been building between us exploded.

George pressed me against the door, his lips crushing mine in a hungry kiss. I moaned, opening my mouth to welcome his invading tongue. His hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts and squeezing them gently. I arched my back, pressing my chest into his hands, my nipples hardening at his touch.

Breaking the kiss, George trailed hot kisses along my jawline and down my neck. He nibbled and sucked on the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of wet, sparkling marks. I gasped, my head falling back to give him better access.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "To taste every inch of you."

His hands slid down my body, grasping my hips and pulling me towards him. I could feel his hard cock pressing against my belly, and I ground myself against him, already aching for release.

George chuckled, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. "Eager, aren't we?”

Before I could respond, George lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. Still kissing me passionately, he walked us over to the bed and laid me down gently. He hovered over me, his eyes burning with desire as he took in the sight of my naked body.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, running a hand up my thigh. "Absolutely gorgeous."

I blushed, my cheeks contrasting with my heated skin. I reached for him, pulling him down for another kiss. Our tongues danced together as George's hand slid between my thighs. He stroked me gently, his touch feather-light, making me whimper into his mouth.

"Please, George," I begged, my voice hoarse with need. "I need you now."

With a growl, George ripped open the button of his jeans, his hard length springing free. My eyes widened at the sight of his thick cock, straining with desire. I reached out, wrapping my hand around him and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Your turn to be eager," I teased, stroking him slowly.

George hissed, bucking his hips into my hand. "Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good."

He stepped back, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes before returning to the bed. George positioned himself between my legs, his tip teasing my entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he slid into me, filling me completely.

I cried out, my head tossing from side to side as I adjusted to his size. George stayed still, giving me time to get used to the feel of him. Then, he began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, deeper this time.

"Oh, God," I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as pleasure washed over me. "Yes, just like that."

George set a slow, relentless pace, each thrust driving deeper into my wet heat. I met his movements, pushing back against him, my hips moving in perfect harmony. our bodies slapped together, the sound filling the room, mingling with our heavy breathing and moans.

As the pleasure built, George reached between us, finding my clit and rubbing it in circles. I cried out, my back arching off the bed.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," I panted, my fingers tangling in his hair.

George quickened his pace, pounding into me with force. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall with each powerful thrust. My breath came in short gasps as I felt my orgasm building, a coiling tension deep in my core.

"Cum for me, baby," George groaned, his own release threatening to overtake him. "Let me feel you cum around me."

His words sent me over the edge. I cried out, my body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over me. George felt my pussy clenching around him, milking his cock, and it pushed him over the brink. With a hoarse shout, he spilled himself inside me, his hips stuttering as he filled me with his release.

We lay tangled together, our breathing slowly returning to normal. George brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his thumb gently caressing my cheek.

"That was incredible," he murmured, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

I smiled back, my eyes sparkling. "It certainly was."

Unbeknownst to us, our passionate encounter had an unexpected witness.

Lewis Hamilton, George's teammate, had heard the noises coming from George's room and had decided to investigate. He had watched, his breath quickening as he spied on the couple, his hand moving faster and faster over his own cock as he listened to our passionate moans and watched our bodies move together.

Now, as he adjusted his clothes, Lewis couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy mixed with arousal. He knew that what he had done was an invasion of privacy, but he couldn't deny the primal satisfaction he felt seeing George lose control like that.

As Lewis made his way back to his own room, a smile played on his lips. Perhaps there were some benefits to this new development. After all, he now had some very intriguing material for his own fantasies. And who knew, maybe this wouldn't be the last time he got to witness such a sexy display.

——————

pt. 2 maybe?

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi i @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess s @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[anpanham]

Hazbin Hotel character thoughts / impressions (Episodes 1 & 2)

1/12/24

UM. what a weird first actual post for my blog for this year... this is long, and i miss making ACTUAL blog posts instead of small threads... And i've explained on my twitter my thoughts on Hazbin / Helluva from a critical standpoint and artist from art separation, yadda yadda yadda---

ANYWAY... Episodes 1 and 2 of Hazbin are (Officially) out now, and i have some thoughts on the characters i wrote down after watching (In bullet points, because most of these are fresh-from-the-brain thoughts i wrote on my tablet from my bed)

(Spoiler alert, Sir Pentious isn't ruined and I AM SO GLAD. my snake babygirl... ilu)

Read on, if you wanna, spoiler warning btw!!!!!

CHARLIE NOTES

-Charlie is good., Charlie is cute, but i fear for her safety, not everyone can new redeemed. she's like steven universe at points i stg 😭 (not a jab but i think it's funny)

-i like how they gave Charlie bags under her eyes a lot, she is a tired princess just like all of us

-She gives off elementary school teacher vibes but in a wholesome way

-Charlie's hair is SO CUTE MESSY..

-PERFECT voice /gen

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VAGGIE NOTES

-GIRLBOSS (still, but more)

-Vaggie is still cool, she just loves her gf and is sick of everyone's bs but is still supportive...

-If she doesn't get into a bloody death match with Alastor (and win) i will be disappointed /hj

She doesn't seem to have as much of a temper as she did in the pilot, but seems more dead inside

-Good voice!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ANGEL DUST NOTES

-Angel... hm. Angel. he's Angel, for sure. Hi, Angel!

Insecure about a lot, but also YOU CAN BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT!!!!! if vox doesn't kill val angel should. please and thank u.

Also his voice is alright, just need to get used to it a little more

Also i hope he's not too bratty jealous of sirpent / whoever else charlie praises because again, it's ON HIM TO COOPERATE WITH HER CAUSE MORE??? ignoring his other stress sources (Val)

-Waiting for him and Husk to kiss. I know it's coming

-Just fucking block Val's number and rip up the contract (YES i know it goes deeper than that...)

-NUGGS. I SCREECHED IRL /POS

THEY GAVE HIM A HEART ON HIS BUTT!!!!! S TIER REDESIGN

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

ALASTOR NOTES

-At first i was kinda Eh about his voice but it's grown on me, the radio filter is a little more subtle than the pilot but it's still there which i'm glad for

Delightfully passive aggressive

-Weird magic still, there doesn't seem to be any limits to it... we need to know what his weakness is...!!!!! please (maybe that will come later??) ....... i theorize he has underworld contact (Shadow-world, because of the shadow imagery?) , the underworld might be different from Hell maybe? (Where do those fucking tentacles come from, also weird monochrome demons)

-Interesting he was gone for 7 years. 7 is an angelic number. HMMMMMM (sealed away by angels somehow??)

-Punchable (Vaggie please)

-Weirdly enjoyable and not genuinely hateable like some of the other characters, but i also want to see his demise, maybe his sadism is rubbing off on me, but i want to see it badly...

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

SIR PENTIOUS NOTES

-Sir Pentious... u are so good.. probably has some of the best writing so far, maybe... he's my favorite so. hhHHmm

his voice is different but at the same time it's what you'd expect, i like it a lot... so silly, i pat him and his silly hat

-Pathetic old man. You win my heart (50x as much)

-Only one egg spoke so far, i wonder if they'll all have unique voices this time (the Japanese dub of the pilot did that lol)

-Genuinely a joy every moment he was onscreen (Too fucking cute... GRRRR)

-How did he get into contact with Vox? Why would Vox want anything to do with him if he thinks he's a loser? (I guess easy access into the Hotel) ...Fuck em either way (DON'T BE MEAN TO SNAKE MAN)

-Cool temporary stunning hypnosis, maybe we'll see him coil and bite next, the snake attack traits are fun

-His autism vibes grow stronger and it's canon in my heart

-We LOVE a redemption song. please stay in the hotel with everyone, don't fuck it up!!! you're a good noodle.... 😭 The song was genuinely so cute... it's probably going to be the highlight of EVERYTHING for me, besides Nuggs..

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

HUSK NOTES

-i luv u kitty

-His voice is different but captures "Grumpy old alcoholic" perfectly

-His heart needs to be melted...

-Him holding the script in front of the camera was great

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NIFFTY NOTES

-Niffty is a BIG COWARD. you can still love a "Bad boy" who's a redeemed bad boy!!!! just because he's not morally bad doesn't Not make him a Bad Boy. fuck u (i still like you)

-Her voice is really cute, also her nightgown.. though finding out she doesn't have dark bug limbs but is just wearing gloves and stockings surprised me more than it should've... put them back

-Also autism vibes, love it

-She still frightens me a bit

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

V TRIO NOTES

VOX -----

-Seems to carry the team, voice has grown on me

-I can't stop looking at his weird finger claws, they almost look like

he's just wearing things over his fingers, i dig it

-Interesting hypnosis power, i assume Alastor is immune

-Why can't Alastor and Vox just compromise and create a podcast?

-Hates Val (sorry shippers) ,,... kind of expected it since in old official sources it's been shown that he's been abused by Val too

-This isn't a note but everytime Alastor said "THE TV IS BUFFERING~" in their duet, the player kept fucking up 😭

-Decent song, I like seeing him and Al argue

-I surprisingly don't hate him! i'm glad. i wanted to like him (though, it's only been 2 episodes so far...)

------

VALENTINO ---------

-More manchild vibes than i expected tbh

-Voice is alright but his accent is weirdly inconsistent for some reason???? interesting direction

-His manipulation is shown well in the voicemail scene with Angel, he's literally got the "Nice Guy" energy

-Surprisingly didn't order Vox around as much as i thought he would

-Why does he have girl Fizzy bots...

-Die?

------

VELVETTE

-Fashion design isn't something i expected, but then again i didn't know that much about her prior other than she's obsessed with social media

-British is also not what i expected but cool

-Uh. she didn't really stick out to me that much...sorry..... she's fine tho

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ADAM & LUTE NOTES

-Personally do not like how these angels look so menacing, i get that they're technically bad, but... make them look more angelic besides halos and wings??? they could easily be mistaken for hell residents. Also again, i feel like angels should swear less and drop swears in critical / good timed moments, it would be funnier... subtlety is not a thing i guess

-Adam's guitar solo was good tho, not really feeling his character tho, he's just an asshole but that's the point

-Adam looks like the fucking dress meme. I can't unsee it

-Lute is pretty...

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

KATIE KILLJOY & TOM TRENCH NOTES

-Brandon Rodgers

-They sure were there for a second!

-i luv tom

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

All in all...

Episode 1: 6-7/10

Episode 2: 8.5/10

[starcrossedslytherin]

Point to the Sky

Sebastian Sallow x reader

WC: 3.4K

A/N: First fic here! Bit nervous to post this, but I’m doing so anyway! I wanted to write for hogwarts legacy and Harry Potter characters (specifically the marauders), so I started a new blog to do so! I really appreciate feedback!

Summary: After Sebastian calls you ignorant despite all you do to help him, you need some time to yourself to blow off steam. Unfortunately, the presence of Ashwinders and your lack of Wiggenweld potions leads to other plans.

---

How did you get here?

How did you get here, bleeding out in the middle of a bandit camp.

You never think things through, you should have thought this through.

It was Sebastian’s fault, it truly was. No matter the fact it was your decision to head out to the highlands today, to stay away from the Castle, or Hogsmeade, or Feldcroft, or anywhere Sebastian would go. It was his fault you needed to get away.

You would do anything for him. You do everything for him. And he does nothing but blame you, call you ignorant, disregard all you’ve done to help Anne, all the pressure and stress this year, your first year at Hogswarts, has put onto you.

Doesn’t he understand?

Doesn’t anybody understand?

Now, none of that seemed to matter. You had decided after your fight with Sebastian you needed out, that anywhere he might be would be insufferable. Claire Beaumont had asked you to clear out two Goblin encampments, which lead you to clearing out more and more and soon you were exhausted, running on pure adrenaline and rage.

That’s when you were caught off guard by diffindo casted at you, ripping through your chest and down your dominant arm. You had let out a scream at the time, falling to your knees and clutching your fresh wounds, swearing blood all throughout your robes. You barely remember blocking the next curse sent your way, returning a stunning spelling and depluso, sending your enemy into a collision with a building nearby which crumpled on top of them.

You finally let yourself collapse, a sob escapes as you allow the day to take its toll on you. Sweat and blood were smeared across your face and you were terrified of letting go of your arm, too afraid to look down at the damage because you knew it was bad. You could feel by the wet spot continuously growing bigger through the torn fabric.

Wiggenweld potions!

They had healed you a million times with injuries almost as bad, surely they get the job done here. You had dropped your bag when the duel had first began and with a little groaning and a lot of pain, you manage to your feet and grab your bag.

Empty.

You let out a weak scream. You knew it would be. You had made more potions last night in the Room of Requirement but you didn’t think to grab them, saving them for a time you planned to go out, not a spontaneous anger trip because you were fighting with… with Sebastian.

The thought of him almost hurt as much as the physical pain you’ve been in. Just yesterday you thought maybe… maybe there could be more between the two of you and today you were cursing Ashwinders because of him.

And yet, you still wished he was here.

That he would be be next to you, fighting by your side, making sure you were alright with a wiggenweld potion because he knew you wouldn’t have any more because he cares about you.

But he wasn’t here.

No one was.

You were here alone.

Except for the Ashwinders aparating behind you.

“Reducto!”

You barely have time to duck and roll out of the way, shooting confringo at your enemy, only to see two of them side by side. You don’t have enough strength in you for a big duel, you barely have enough in you as you shoot basic spells their way and blocking the ones coming at you, including dodging the lightning strikes the executioner is casting. You don’t know how much longer you could last. You could barely hold up your arm without trembling in pain.

You finally have the upper hand as the lightning curse is cast and you pull both Ashwinders in front of you into it, but not before one duelist manages out a quick reducto sent your way.

The spell hits you the same time both Ashwinders are taken care of and you are sent backwards screaming in pain. Your entire side is throbbing and you can’t think. You can’t move. You can only sit there, watching the stain on your clothes grow bigger and bigger.

You need help.

You read something once in a book for class about shooting red sparks onto the air as a call for help. You mentioned it to Sebastian afterwards, he promised if you did it he would always find you.

You hope it was true.

The last curse knocked your wand out of your hand, sending it just out of your reach. Knowing what has to be done, you roll closer to your wand, scraping your fingers in the dirt in a pitiful attempt to reach before you slowly start gasping for breaths to hide your sobs.

Pain rips up your body, pulling a cry from your lips as you try to keep from curling in pain. Your trembling fingers brush against your wand, pulling another gasp of breath as you inch impossibly closer until you can hold your wand in your non-dominant hand. Your dominant hand is useless, you could barely move it, let alone grip your wand. You finally allow yourself to scream, a sound quickly turning into a sob as you bury your face into your arm and still for a few moments.

The pain is getting to you, you can feel it happening as your body grows far more tired than it has all day. Your vision is starting to blur as you roll onto your back, struggling to point it to the sky.

You quickly shoot 3 bright red sparks into the air and they fly high before disappearing far higher than you’ve ever flown. You know it was dangerous, you know anyone could have seen them, could know exactly where you were. Rookwood, Ranrok, any of their lot, but also Sebastian. Despite how you’ve been feeling towards the boy as of late, you could only hope Sebastian could see your signal and get to you first as your eyes drift close and your arm falls to the ground.

---

Ominis was sure he searched the whole castle for you and yet his wand had proved to him quite a few times that you weren’t anywhere here. He did, however, find Sebastian sitting on a bench in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Sebastian.” He calls out his friend’s name before heading to take the open seat next to him. “Have you seen Y/N? I can’t locate her in the castle, I assumed she’d be with you somewhere.”

Sebastian can’t even look at Ominis as he twirls his wand around in his hand. “Haven’t seen her.”

Ominis is quiet, his brows pulling together at his friends depressing demeanor. “What happened? What did you do?”

Sebastian is taken back, finally looking at the blond boy. “Me? Why do you assume I was the cause of anything?” The silent but knowing look Ominis wore on his face causes Sebastian to sigh heavily. “I… I was with her this morning and I said…” he trails off thinking back on the conversation he called you ignorant and you curtly replied, implying his uncle was correct about Sebastian not knowing when to stop. “I said something I regret, that I don’t know how to take back.”

Ominis frowns, wondering what Sebastian could have said to you to cause a rift between the two of you. “You could start by apologizing.”

“Alright.” Sebastian nods, preparing himself for the idea. “I’ll apologize to her. The next time I see her.” Ominis was quiet once again but the small smirk on his lips has Sebastian’s shoulders sagging. “We’re going to find her now, aren’t we?”

Ominis can only put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “She would find you if the roles were reversed.”

---

Ominis follows after Sebastian who is leading the way through Hogsmeade. Ominis can tell how upset the conversation with you has made him, but he knows how Sebastian has acted these last weeks with his twin’s sickness.

“She’s not here.” Sebastian groans, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, impatient to find you and be allowed back to his sulking. “She’s probably back at the castle somewhere and we missed her.”

Ominis frowns and shakes his head. “She could also be in danger. You know what our friend likes to do in her free time.”

Sebastian’s foot tapping stops. Ominis has a point, but they also know you well enough to know you wouldn’t fight without a supply of wiggenweld potions in your bag.

Unless you left after an argument without thinking of the possibility of needing wiggenweld. “How are we supposed to find her? She could be anywhere! She could be in the forest, or down by the coast, or-or…” Sebastian’s sentences are stopped as he looks out in the sky, ignoring the sun disappearing on the horizon. “Did you see that?” He asks Ominis, not sure his eyes weren’t just playing tricks on him in the setting sky.

“… no.”

“Oh. Right.” Sebastian shakes his head, looking towards his blind best friend and feeling a little dumb at his question. “In the sky, there were these red sparks coming up from the trees south of Hogwarts.”

“Sparks?” Ominis furrows his brows, trying to understand what Sebastian is saying.

Just point to the sky and I’ll find you.

Promise?

I promise.

“It’s Y/N, it has to be!” Sebastian is sure of it. He remembers joining you in the library one day, trying not to be obvious as he stares at you, but it didn’t matter as it seemed you had a sixth sense for knowing when he was looking at you. “Come on!”

---

Sebastian pushes trees away from his face, doing his absolute best not to send them flying into Ominis’ face who was following behind him, using his wand to help him as he holds the back of Sebastian’s robe. “Will you slow down?” Ominis says before running into his best friend’s back, barely stopping in time.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian is quick to say, making sure his friend is fine before focusing on their mission. “She’s around here, I’m sure of it.”

It was Ominis who found you first, sensing your location with his wand as he leads Sebastian in the correct direction. Sebastian freezes when he sees you laying on the ground, your wand trailing off your fingers into the dirt below you. “Y/N?” Ominis says as he kneals down next to you, putting his arm on your arm and gently moving up to your neck. “She’s barely breathing.” He sighs in relief at finding your pulse, however weak it was.

Sebastian is in shock as he looked at you but he couldn’t look past the blood stains on your robes. “She’s bleeding, on her chest and arm, it looks bad.”

Ominis carefully checks what Sebastian pointed out before pulling away, knowing his hands were now stained with your blood. He speaks quickly. “We need to get her to Hogwarts, to the hospital wing.”

Sebastian nods despite Ominis being unable to see it. He glances around the three of you and his eyes land on an empty vial of what used to be Wiggenweld potion. You did run out. His eyes widen before he searches his robes. “I have- wait, I have…” He trails off for a brief moment, absolutely certain he had some somewhere until he pulls out the green vial, “This!”

Ominis furrows his brows until Sebastian hands it to him. Sebastian had kept himself away from you until this moment. He knew deep down it was his fault that you were in this position and there was no way he could deny it, so he stayed back, not wanting to upset you further should you have woken up. However, he couldn’t help himself after he passed Ominis the vial. His hand ghosted over your head before he brushes your hair out of your face. It stuck to your skin just a bit from your sweat, blood, and tears and Sebastian’s heart ached.

He never wanted to see you like this again.

“You carry a wiggenweld potion on you?” Ominis’ words pull him back to reality as he blinks away any chance of tears falling on his own face. “Since when?”

“Since she started venturing out.” He clears his throat. “Never know when she might need one.”

Ominis doesn’t say anything else. He can only imagine how Sebastian is feeling in this moment and he is worried for you as well. He gently cups your jaw and opens your mouth and does his best to make sure he has lined the potion up with your mouth perfectly before pouring the whole vial.

“There. She should be getting better until he can get her-” Ominis is cut off by the sounds of metal clanking and talking through the tree lines, coming from almost all directions towards them. “Someone’s coming.” He tells Sebastian and jumps to his feet, holding his wand in the air.

“I can hear them. They probably saw Y/N’s sparks.” Sebastian shakes his head, not believing the fact that he forgot that others could have found you as well.

“It sounds like a whole army.”

Sebastian looks down at you, wishing he could have known if the Wiggenweld potion was even doing anything for you. You hadn’t moved at all and your breathing was still short. “We have to get her out of here!”

“How?” Ominis points his wand in another direction, finding more and more goblins, ashwinders, and enemies everywhere. “There’s nowhere to go?”

“There has to be something-” Sebastian’s sentence is stopped short as his eyes land on your bag. You’ve shown him this bag before. You’ve pulled magnificent beasts out of this bag before and right now, that seems to be your only chance at an escape. “Ominis,” Sebastian places a hand on the boys’ shoulder before reaching for the bag, “you might not like this.” Ominis can’t get a question in before Sebastian opens the bag. The next thing the blind blond hears is hooves stomping against the ground, wings beating in the air, and Sebastian’s excited gasp.

Ominis lets out a gasp of his own as he figures out exactly what Sebastian has pulled out of your bag.“Is that-“

“A friend.” Sebastian assures him, placing his hand back on Ominis’ shoulder before confirming Ominis’ thoughts. “A Hippogriff, she once introduced me to after class one day. It was… extraordinary.” There was a smile on Sebastian’s face as he looks at the beast, remembering how excited you were to introduce the two of you. He follows the steps and tells Ominis what to do, just like you showed him that day to gain the Hippogriff’s trust for a ride.

Sebastian helps Ominis up first before heading to you. He hesitates, but knows he must act quickly. Careful of your potentially still wounded arm and torso, he picks you up with an arm under your knees and another around your back. With Ominis’ help, he gets both you and him onto the Hippogriff. He readjusts you, letting you collapse on him as he holds you close to him with an arm around your waist, your head tucks into his neck. He can feel your faint breath on his skin and he can’t help but smile. You are still alive.

He is about to take off before realizing Ominis would surely fall off. “Put your arms around us.”

Ominis is taken back. “Absolutely not.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Do you want to fall off?” Ominis groans before muttering a ‘no’. “That’s what I thought. Now, put your arms around us and help me keep the two of you from falling off.”

Ominis does as he was told, knowing Sebastian was right, and regardless if he was, he would do anything to ensure you would stay as you were currently, almost on Sebastian’s lap. His grip is loose until suddenly with no warning, the hippogriff takes off.

Ominis is hanging on for dear life now.

The three of you and the Hippogriff barely clear the trees before a spell is cast in your direction. It whizzes right by Sebastian and Ominis’ heads, narrowly hitting them as the hippogriff speeds up, leaving the armies to disappear behind.

---

“We are never doing that again.” Ominis complains as he straightens his robes, happy to finally be on solid ground.

Sebastian rolls his eyes and as he opens your bag up to return the Hippogriff, but keeps his hold on you with Ominis’ help. “It wasn’t that bad. We made it back in one piece!”

Ominis wants to make a snappy comment back about how you three almost didn’t make it back in piece and how Sebastian almost lost his hold on you, but before he can get the words out, they remind him of your condition. The two of them rush to get you to the hospital wing, narrowly taking out a few first years along the way, but they managed. The nurse was just fixing a bed as the two boys push open the doors, holding you as steady as they can in their arms.

The nurse gasps at the sudden appearance but acts fast, letting them place you on the nearest bed that was available. Sebastian lays you on the bed, but he doesn’t let go of your hand as he grips it tightly, studying your face. The nurse cleans you up a bit and helps you beyond what a Wiggenweld potion could manage. Sebastian was beyond relieved to be able to gaze upon your face without focusing on the blood and tears.

“It’s good you gave her the potion when you did,” the nurse breaks Sebastian and Ominis’ thoughts, “much longer out there and well, I hate to imagine what could’ve happened.” She shakes her head.

Sebastian blinks back tears. “But she hasn’t woken.”

“And she might not for a while. Physically, she’s fine, her wounds are healing nicely, but she’ll have a nasty scar.” The nurse pauses, adding a few ingredients to a potion for you to take later.

Sebastian and Ominis wait for her to continue, but they grow restless. Sebastian finally tears his eyes away. “So? Why would it be a while?”

The nurse frowns. “Mentally, she’s exhausted. I don’t suppose either of you know how much sleep she’s gotten?”

The two boys hesitate before shaking their heads. “She would always fall asleep in the most random of places. In class, in Hogsmeade, towns, simply on the floor even. I’ve tripped over her numerous times.” Ominis says and Sebastian nods, suddenly feeling guilty for not ensuring you’ve gotten sleep.

“Yes, well,” the nurse hums, “perhaps rest is what she needs best. She can stay here for the night, but you two better hurry off before curfew starts.”

Ominis nods and reaches over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder with a small squeeze before he leaves, knowing Sebastian might want a few minutes alone with you. Sebastian can’t bear the thought of leaving you even if he could just visit in the morning. “Is it alright if I stay? Just for a few hours?”

The nurse eyes him carefully before sighing. “Just for a few hours.” She says and Sebastian nods. He hopes maybe a just a few hours turns into the whole night, and as the nurse places a pillow and blanket next to him, he might just get his wish.

When the nurse leaves the room, Sebastian realizes you two were the only ones here. He can’t help himself as he holds your hand tighter, bringing it to his lips with a soft kiss. “I’m sorry.” He whispers, knowing you’re only here because of him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sebastian?” Your voice is quiet, but he hears it nonetheless.

He straightens up, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing his hand against your skin. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

You shift in the bed, turning to face him but you barely open your eyes. “You’re here.” You repeat his words with the ghost of a smile and Sebastian feels his tears slipping down his face slowly. “Stay?”

He presses his lips against the back of your hand again before smiling. “With you? Of course. I’ll always stay with you.”

•

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if I should write more for hogwarts legacy or harry potter characters?

[ranticore]

Compilation of Cuinn POV Writing (part 1)

These bits and pieces are older than this blog but I forgot they existed until last night. First part is intended to be a direct follow up on Cuinn's initial capture by Mikalai, second part (in a different post b/c it's long) is a few years after that when he meets Ilya :) And I'm too lazy to put them in a google doc so it's going into the body of this post enjoy

-

He gazed dispassionately down at the sleeping human. What on earth was that strange one thinking? To bring him here to this madhouse flock of babytalkers and ground-bound humans who seemed hardly better. Nobody made sense when they spoke and nobody did what they meant. Why give food and bare your neck so respectfully if you were then going to tie your captor up like a piece of prey?

He tested the bindings again, an agitated ticking under his skin. Still tight, made of two leather pieces sandwiched on either side of a metal woven cord. Cuinn's beak still ached from his attempt to chew it. He'd sliced through a tiny bit of leather, triumphant, and that metal had immediately cracked a notch into the hook in his mouth. It would take weeks to grow out. Why hadn't they warned him? The baffling mix of hospitality and imprisonment made Cuinn's crop seize up and his feathers prick. Was he little more than a farm animal to these humans? Something to be cared for so nicely, right up until the moment of its slaughter?

Let that human come closer, and… and… Cuinn let out his puffed up breath, his feathers flattening again. The man had turned over on the furs he'd made into a nest, and the makeshift blanket fell off his front. Beneath there was a thinner tunic, something woven. His chest rose and fell slowly, in unhurried sleep. Killing someone in their sleep was not the action of a king, but the temptation was ever-present. Cuinn's mouth watered.

Yet the tether still held. Cuinn could not step closer. He instead hunkered down into the ragged nest as if to warm an egg and silently observed.

The human yawned and tipped his head sideways, away from Cuinn, and bore more of his pale throat. That was soft too, though Cuinn would have to step closer to confirm. He reminded Cuinn of the tiercels at the coast, the flightless ones and plump waterbirds, though he knew that assuming delicacy or weakness was a mistake. Cuinn had felt the iron strength behind the binding ropes.

He pulled one of the stripped sheep femurs closer for an early morning snack, gripping the bone with his talons while he used his beak and long, barbed tongue to scrape the marrow out.

A low grunt from the human stilled Cuinn briefly before the hunger became more important. The human said something and sat up. What an odd creature he truly was; close enough to a harpy that Cuinn could find him familiar, even attractive, but strangely proportioned, short-armed and blunt. Had he been smaller, the size of a hare, Cuinn would have not hesitated to rip him apart.

His monstrous captor opened the rear door and stepped out into the light. Other harpies craned their heads to see through the doorway before it shut again. Cuinn licked more marrow out of the sheep's long bones, waiting for the next indignity. Surely that human was preparing to drag him around again, the spoils of his hunt.

But no. The human returned with a hare and a pheasant, warmed but not fresh-killed. He set them on the floor and simply walked out again. He even left Cuinn his privacy, letting the door become a welcome barrier between himself and those chattering mudhawks ready to snatch away any food he got.

It helped Cuinn eat in peace but it didn't lessen the sensation of capture, of being kept like livestock. But he was still weak and likely couldn't have flown any great distance on his ragged wings, his heart in palpitations at the dual effort of pulling wasted muscle and digesting this new glut of food which would only weigh him down more.

The voices of men and the odd harpies pressed in from all angles. Dust shook down from the wooden roof as manicured talons settled upon it. The harpies spoke in exaggerated and strange tones, loud and dramatic no matter the subject, and oddly truncated in a way that flattened the meaning, the errors of a chick learning to speak for the first time. And at a permanently ear-splitting volume, no softer hisses or sibilant tones, only full throated screeches and peeping.

The effects of men on the harpy chicks they stole were legendary. Why would they care for anything, when their provisions were always guaranteed and their hunting little more than a swoop and catch, none of the hours-long stalking and waiting. Their flying skills, too, were roundly mocked by the harpies of Cuinn's flock. His ex-flock, he supposed.

And what hobbies did the humans deign to allow their captives? He'd seen no woven nests or bower walls, no artistic pursuits, nothing but these wooden man-made walls and straw.

The adorable human returned in the afternoon with a deep trough of some kind of liquid. Whitish and warm, the colour of an eggshell.

Although Cuinn had thought warmly about the human in his sleep, he was not so pleased to see the man in full wakefulness, wrapped in his heavy cloak, his face like iron. Cuinn saw again the figure of his captor, the source of his shame and indignity, and made a token effort to lash out at the man. He didn't expect to reach, and sure enough the tether snapped to shivering tension while his talons caught thin air, but it was the best way to send his message. He would not capitulate to this treatment. But the man shrugged it off so easily, sparking fury, and simply set down the container of liquid. He said something in his rumbling voice and gestured across at the trough.

Cuinn pointedly did not approach it. His hunger was dull for the first time in weeks, he would not debase himself for this lesser man. Cuinn was a king. A king of what? his mind said mockingly, and the resultant shame was enough to have him snapping and hissing at the man again, until he finally left.

Cuinn sniffed the liquid, but smell was not his primary sense and he didn’t learn much, only that it smelled somewhat like bone marrow. He slipped his tongue into the top layer and found it gelatinous as it cooled, a soft broth with bones at the bottom and other mysterious ingredients suspended in the tasty fluid. It was more sustaining than the dishes of water he’d been given but quenched his thirst just as well. As he lapped it up, lying on the awkward protrusion of his keel by the trough, he despaired that this was the best food he was going to be given. Lukewarm sludge, the type of food you might feed an invalid, or an elder. His talons flexed open and closed at the thought of real food, live food, something that struggled as it died. That way he could adopt its strength and will to live, not just the physical matter of its flesh. The broth, while nourishing, could not pass that vigour on to him.

Over the next few days, the man came and went. Cuinn heard enough from the others beyond the doorway to associate him with the sound ‘Mika’, which was likely a name. Mika was an odd prison guard. He brought food and water and showed Cuinn the midden hole under the nest platform at the back of the little den. He slept in the den every single night, no matter what, blithely revealing defenceless flesh and pale skin to the hungry gaze of Cuinn. Aside from that he did not seem to need or care to interact much with Cuinn. It was not respectful, not at all, but it was honest. It did not make any effort to convince Cuinn that he would be happy here, in his captivity.

As Cuinn’s exhaustion began to purge itself from his bones he grew restless. He managed to jump onto the elevated nest platform, where he ripped open the pillows and discarded the human fabric cases, rejecting its presence at his bed. He arranged the spilled-out straw and sweet hay in an oval, though it was not deep enough to make a depression in the middle, and tried his best to raise some walls in a basket-weave pattern.

The next morning, as Mika rose and pulled his cloak back on, his dark eyes flickered over Cuinn’s body. It was the first night Cuinn had retired to the platform, to higher ground.

Mika said something short and gruff, then opened the door and - rather than letting himself out, he left the door open. Cuinn roused himself, waiting for that opening to slam shut again, but Mika caught the tether instead. He clipped it onto the block just beyond the door, out in the gloomy morning sunlight. Cuinn did not follow. There was no point. What was he to do, stand out on that block perch, answering the human’s beck and call? Not at all. He stayed up on his platform, watching through slitted eyes the comings and goings of the falconers outside, the harpies flitting past. Horses appeared a few times, piquing Cuinn’s hunger, though that was a meal for many harpies to take at once, and he did not trust or respect any of the harpies around him enough to share a hunt with them.

He watched the younger harpies follow their humans around, gazing up at them with sickening trust and adoration. Some received food in reward for allowing the humans to inspect their talons, their keels. the anklets and bells around their legs. Mika moved among them, fetching and carrying but never interacting with a single young harpy long enough for Cuinn to link it with him.

Only when Mika had not been sighted for several hours did Cuinn decide to emerge. It was his idea, not Mika's. And he moved out slowly, hopping down from the platform and slowly emerging into the light. It made his eyes burn; he was already susceptible to bright light and this conspired with the time he'd spent in that den to almost blind him. He walked slowly, without revealing his lack of vision, and felt the character of the lawn change around him. The other harpies which had not flown off to their hunt that day grew quiet. His vision returned in patches, enough to guide him onto the block perch. He settled himself there and pricked his feathers against the wind. Snow swirled in the air but did not settle, not yet.

The dens were spread in a half ring that faced the large castle and smaller hall. Walls enclosed everything, even the lawn, though they were only tall enough to make a barrier to humans .

A brave harpy alighted beside him. A tawny spotted cob, jingling obnoxiously with bells. He displayed no signs of appeasement or peaceful greeting, his eyes making contact far too early for politeness. He stood straight, wings half open, and his tail fluffed out and high. He chattered something, a chick asking to play, and reached up a foot to try to snag one of Cuinn's white feathers.

Cuinn stepped away. The tawny followed. Cuinn hissed softly and this only elicited a surprised look before the tawny simply tried again. Cuinn's subtlety went nowhere and fell on deaf ears. As the inquisitive talons rose again, Cuinn spun and slashed, opening the younger harpy's thigh and scaly lower leg.

That got him. The harpy exploded into flight and fled to the roof of one of the halls, peeping obnoxiously in distress.

The humans returned one by one. They rode in on their horses and some had harpies perched behind them. Mika did not. He returned alongside the others and tied to his saddle was a coiled crawling beast. The monster's head hung limp and it lazily dripped blood and venom down its forked tail. Cuinn's feathers stood on end and he hissed at it as Mika took it past; what use would anybody have for one of those horrible things? Harpies killed them without eating for a reason! Mika rode past with his eyes forward, paying Cuinn no mind.

The harpies came in to roost. Mika was back, his burden set aside somewhere (in the fire, Cuinn hoped). This time he carried a pair of hares which he set down in Cuinn's reach.

The other humans looked uneasy, eyeing Cuinn as though he were as dangerous as the huge serpentine crawler. Why now of all times was he drawing their stares? They'd seen him on the block before he'd been fed.

He ate while continuing to peer around the place, eyeing up the sheer facade of the large building looming behind the hall. That place with its spires and many windows looked to house someone important. Maybe the lord of the land. Humans had leaders like everyone else, though Cuinn's mind wandered at the thought of what a human leader might actually do all day. Humans were lawless and uncontained, without any true king pushing them into their rank lines.

No wonder the place was so raucous and disorganised. They had food aplenty but no hunters catching anything but useless evil, and all sorts of harpies reduced to idle fluttering. The air of the place suggested a ruler but Cuinn had not seen him.

Mika's huff of breath sounded by his ear. Cuinn hissed softly, little more than a formality at this point. Mika paid it no mind, as ever. He unsheathed his fleshy pale hand from the thick furs he wore over it and touched it to Cuinn's front. The fingers delved under a tract of feathers, and the edge of one of the square fingernails dug in briefly. Cuinn's hiss was low and rolling, but stretched out into pleasure at the welcome scratch.

Mika felt the edge of Cuinn's keel. He made no attempt to hide it, not that it needed confirming at this point that he was trying to heal Cuinn's starvation for reasons unknown. The keel still made an uncomfortable shape through the skin, awkward when Cuinn wanted to lie on his front, but there was a new layer softening it just a little. Mika withdrew his hand and brought it up, briefly, to scratch under Cuinn's chin.

It was too much. Cuinn pulled his head away, straightening so that on the perch and with his long neck extended, he was not within Mika's reach. He brought his talonful of hare up higher to continue eating.

The meal was thoroughly mundane but the eyes on him sharpened until he had swallowed the last of the bones. After that there came a gradual lessening of attention, eyes turned away.

And Cuinn discovered why momentarily; the other harpies were fed similar meals and the yard was embroiled in a chaotic war. They mantled over their paltry meat scraps as if they would be attacked, and not even the humans they simpered over could come close. Hissing and screeching filled the yard, humans in thicker padding than usual ducking and flinching as their horse-drawn cart of meat was mobbed. The mudhawks behaved like infants, chicks who squalled and fought to eat before their nest siblings, as if the food would be yanked away. Cuinn slunk back into his den. No use in sticking around.

Up on his perch and with daylight still lying across his feathers, he found the will to preen for the first time in many moon cycles. He would not be shown up by those squalling chicks. Mika looked in more than once as he continued on his duties, at one stage bringing a bale of new straw for nest material.

While Cuinn wove the new straw into the downy depression of his nest, Mika shut the door behind him and bedded down against the door frame.

As darkness and cold gripped the den like ice crushing the outer bark of a tree, Cuinn's fluffed up feathers trapped more warmth than before, but not enough. The winter rolled in faster than he could recover, and after an hour or so hunched and shivering he dropped down from the platform. The swivel on the tether clinked softly as it dragged across the ground, but Mika lay still and on his side, ensconced in his thick furs. Cuinn stepped onto him, ignoring the grunt as Mika roused, and lowered himself down onto his front so that he lay on top of the human. Mika said something in a meandering, sleepy tone. Cuinn ignored him, perfectly satisfied to use the human as a massive heat source without being too sentimental about it. Needs must.

When sleep came he didn't notice it, drifting into a soft continuation of his waking state almost indistinguishable from it. In his dream, Cuinn's beak slid out of its holster on the roof of his mouth, and when morning dragged him back awake he was sharp and itching all over with mingled hunger and shame.

Mika nudged at him, a small, blunt hand that touched the curve of Cuinn's neck. He twisted and bit down on the hand, his beak piercing the skin, and Mika's other hand swung from nowhere to clout Cuinn hard on the side of the head.

Hissing furiously, Cuinn sprang up and retreated to the back of the mews, to the elevated nest. He sat there for the remainder of the morning, glaring at Mika and any human who dared peer in through the door. How dare they. He would batter them if they came close, and any overfamiliarity on their part would be their undoing.

But Mika's behaviour did not change. He returned with his hands gloved, setting down the usual morning bowl of broth, his eyes steady resting on Cuinn.

Wasn't he angry? Cuinn was angry. His talons had gouged tracks in the wood of the platform from his compulsive gripping and scratching. Mika simply set down his bowl and stood up again, leaving the door open once more so that Cuinn could go out to visit the block perch.

Cuinn went out, but not very soon after Mika opened the door. Whether or not Cuinn left his den was not the human's decision. The swirl of bracing air that twisted through the doorway beckoned Cuinn. He hadn't flown in so long.

Out on the block, he drank from the bowl of steaming broth. As ever the humans were bustling around with their horses and the harpies. Any time those creatures got even a scrap of food they became so oddly aggressive that the shrieks had Cuinn desperately scanning the sky for any signs of attackers.

One, a pale grey pen with scarlet eyes, alighted with a flip of her tail on the ground by the block. Her vivideyes fixed on Cuinn's bowl.

Instead of asking or indicating that she would like to share, she instead continued to stare at the bowl. She made a piteous begging noise. Cuinn turned away. He was not a parent and this overgrown chick wouldn't sway him.

His voice rose into a shocked screech but he was too slow to yank the bowl away in time. She caught it in one foot as she shot past him and up, into the grey sky. Broth spilled out over the rim and rained down over Cuinn’s back. The disgusting mess slithered down between his feather tracts as the harpy landed on the roof of the big house.

She sat there forlornly peeping until Cuinn's attention strayed. Mika had appeared on the edge of the yard, a straw fork over his shoulder.

A blur of stony grey, and suddenly the pen grabbed Cuinn's bowl.

He was stepping from foot to foot in his fury, gouging tracks in the block, when Mika returned from one of his unimportant tasks. Cuinn would have bitten him again, only Mika stepped away in time. He glanced down, saw no bowl, and cast Cuinn an expectant look as if to say where is it? Cuinn turned to glare at the harpy on the roof. She had managed to spill more of the broth down one of the shiny clear windows.

Mika hummed quietly and patted Cuinn’s front. He almost earned another bite for that, but Cuinn found it not unwelcome, after his initial shock. Mika was not here to steal from him, but to touch his keel again. It was still prominent, but no longer so pointed that it felt like a blade about to slice through Cuinn’s skin from the inside. Mika pointed at the female harpy and the bowl and said something in his low soft tone, diffusing the prickly agitation just a little.

Then he left to bring Cuinn another bowl. This was much the same as the first, and as Cuinn snatched it off him, Mika produced a damp cloth, and stretched out towards Cuinn. Distracted and satisfied by the broth, Cuinn tolerated the damp patting of the cloth against the feathers of his back and shoulder. Mika, it seemed, was grooming him.

Immediately, Cuinn lunged at her. Stupid creature, to have fallen for obvious bait. He caught her by the wing and neck and forced her down onto the ground by the block, under his talons. She was screeching, her wings thrashing, but she was uncoordinated, accustomed only to attacks from the crawling things on the ground and her flock-mates. Her voice shifted from angry screeching to piteous mewling and subjugated peeps, her eyes on him squinting with defeat.

After another sip from the bowl, the rustling movement on the roof again caught Cuinn’s eye. He set the bowl down, a little away from himself, on the very edge of the block. Mika queried it but received no response other than Cuinn turning away as if disinterested.

Talons scraped against slate roof tiles. The pen harpy was sweeping down and low across the lawn, her feet already swinging forwards in a practised snatch, reaching for the bowl. Mika’s voice rose into a gruff warning sound, telling her no, but he was no match for her speed. She caught the bowl.

Mika shouted something. Another human was running over, the pen harpy’s makeshift parent. Cuinn had no need to press the point. He folded his wings with a satisfied huff and hopped off of her, back onto the perch.

The second human, whose name was Yuriy, helped his harpy up from the sleety lawn. She hid behind him at first, still peeping in confusion, though when she caught Cuinn’s eyes she gaped her beak as if he were a hunting sphinx and not one of her own kind. As well he might have been, to her. Cuinn turned his back. She would not bother him again.

Mika had to speak to Yuriy about the incident. Yuriy was upset at the mistreatment of his harpy - they called her Mriya - and seemed to want Mika to do something. But Mika’s voice was so level and so calm, one hand still on Cuinn’s side as Cuinn sipped from his untouched bowl.

Finally Yuriy thew up his hands and walked away, with the pen, Mriya, trailing along beside him. Mika said nothing. Then, as Cuinn set down the empty bowl and began to clean himself, Mika abruptly reached out and caught the tether clipped to Cuinn’s anklet. It came loose, Mika’s dextrous fingers making short work of the mechanism. The heavy tether fell away, only revealing what a burden it had been in its sudden absence. Cuinn lifted his foot - his tarsus was still bound with an anklet - and cast Mika a long look.

Mika pointed at the sky.

Cuinn’s eyes widened. Another trap? No, it didn’t seem that way. Cuinn could rise into the sky and never see this wretched place again. Mika’s hand drifted close again and tapped Cuinn’s keel, as if to explain his behaviour. Cuinn was no longer on death’s door, the gesture reminded him. Mika had nursed him back to health, enough so that he could toss around the likes of Mriya.

Cuinn had not flown in weeks, beyond the hops up into his nest at night. He spread his wings, still shabby despite his improved health. The first leap into the sky was laborious, his chest muscles pulling down with not quite as much strength as he was used to. Well, he would recover. After a short horizontal drift he got a good few beats in, and the lawn blurred into a wash of grey and brown as he swung upwards. His wingtips clipped the wall of the big house and then he was over it, his wings spread to their full extent to capture what little glide material might remain in the wintry air. There wasn’t much, and he sank again to land on the slate roof of the big house, to more easily plan his next venture.

Mika stood by the den, watching curiously. It occurred to Cuinn that if he left, he could not take Mika with him. And even if that were possible, he could not go back to his own flock, not without unseating Thunder Strike on the Ama, but that would be an impossibility in his current state. The forest flocks would not have him either. Like it or not, he had to stay here, among this flock, at least for the time being. Mika would care for him.

The other harpies were deeply distressed by Cuinn's new sentinel post on the roof for the remainder of the day. They would flutter up clumsily, ready to perch, spot Cuinn, and then veer away with alarmed squawks. Very different to how it had been in the forest, where other harpies avoiding him would have been an immense improvement.

But it couldn't last, not really. As the evening closed in, the harpies had plucked up enough courage to land two wing-lengths away from him with their meals to eat. He ignored them; they were nothing to him. He had already evaluated the flock for any that might have posed a threat, any that might have thought themselves future kings, and there were none. They hardly seemed to understand what he was. This place had no king but him.

[depravitycentral]

Friday Nights

Yandere! Yuu Nishinoya x fem! reader

Synopsis: A routine movie night with your best friend turns into a bit more than you bargained for – action movies, popcorn, drugged soda, and a man absolutely desperate for you, no matter how underhanded his methods may be. 

Warnings: non-con, non-consensual drugging, choking, bruising, non-consensual groping, delusional Yuu, lowkey dragging action movies sorry, mentions of stalking, mentions of past non-con (by Yuu), somnophilia, implied somnophilia, obviously timeskip!Yuu who decided to get educated and go to college, mentions of reader’s pubic hair, fem reader

WC: 5.2K

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

“So what movie do y’wanna watch?” Yuu asks, his voice high pitched with excitement as his brown eyes scan through the rows of movie titles. The TV perched on the wall is queued up with Netflix, the various titles jumping out and seeming to fly by as his fingers repeatedly press down onto the ‘next’ button, moving too quickly to even get a glimpse at the synopses. 

You roll your eyes but giggle lightly, the behavior typical from him. 

He’d always been a bit scatterbrained, impatient and always eager to go out and do something, for excitement and stimulation in every possible way. He was a busy body, a trait you admired about him, albeit something that occasionally had you ripping at your hair when he just wouldn’t stay still. 

And yet, it was a reason why you loved him– one of your closest friends, a joy of a man that you felt lucky to have known since high school. He may have been in a different class, but through coinciding clubs and college seminars, a friendship had bloomed quickly and passionately, the both of you seeing a missing piece in one another. 

“I don’t care, just please not Die Hard again. It’d be what, the twentieth time in the last two months?” You teased, sending him a glare as he pouted, lips puffing out as crossed his arms. 

“Hmpf, you’re just jealous that I like actually interesting movies, not the shit you watch.”

Suddenly the popcorn bowl – fresh and dripping in butter and salt – that you’d just finished making was snatched away from his outstretched hand, an indignant huff spilling from your lips. 

He spluttered, eyes blowing wide as he stared at you.

“Wha – you can’t do that!” He exclaimed, facing you with an incredulous expression. 

You closed your eyes, puffing your chest and tilting your chin up. “Mmm, I made it, so I get to choose what I do with it.”

Yuu threw his hands up, shaking his head and asking in a defeated tone, “Okay okay, your liege, what must I do to earn some of your world class popcorn?”

Opening your eyes, your index finger tapped against your chin, fake contemplating. “Hmmm…”

“C’mon, I’m hungry!” He whined, shoulders drooping as he pouted. 

You snorted, before sighing heavily. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to apologize, and thank me for being so generous and letting you off so easily.”

He scoffed, eyes rolling to the sky as he flopped back against the cushions of his couch. “Sure, sure princess, I’m so sorry for offending you, and thanks for being such a softie.” 

You smirk and glance over at him, holding out the popcorn bowl and watching as his eyes lit up, a hand immediately reaching out to grab as big a handful as possible. 

“You’re a pig, you know that?” 

He picked up a stray piece that had fallen onto his gray t-shirt, flinging it over at you and smiling through a mouthful of popcorn at your offended glare. 

You laughed despite yourself, the man beside you too easy to forgive for his own good. Choosing to ignore the way he snickered at your failed attempt at seeming irritated, you instead focused your gaze onto the television, just to watch him pass through movie after movie under the action section. 

Eventually, he landed on a rather non-descript action thriller that looked to have the same plot as the other twenty action movies he’d had you watch the last few movie nights. You were sure you’d be able to recite the lines word for word despite never having watched this particular film.

He glanced over at you, seeking your approval on the movie. You nodded, giving him a small smile despite your secret displeasure at his movie choice. Well, it’s not like I ever manage to stay up to watch the full thing, anyways. 

The lights were dimmed, the crunching of popcorn accompanied by the opening soundtrack of the film. Your gaze focused on the screen, explosions and guns filling your sight as the plot droned on, the lead going through a heart wrenching loss of a family member, all typical so far. 

Yuu seemed fully immersed in the movie, his profile showing the concentration in those brown eyes, his lashes barely fluttering as the movie continued. Popcorn was shoveled into his mouth, little gasps and expressions in response to the movie passing over his face frequently. 

You smiled softly, the sight of him enjoying himself making you unspeakably happy. It was no secret that you’d developed feelings for your friend, but the years’ worth of fondness that had slowly seeped into your mind wasn’t worth endangering the tight friendship you shared, and so you stayed quiet. Yuu was a friend, nothing more and nothing less. 

But he looks so pretty like this… 

You sighed, adjusting yourself and taking a sip of the soda he’d brought over for you. It was a new brand this time, though it was still your favorite flavor, something he kept on hand in bottled form for nights exactly like this. The lid was always unscrewed, a few sips having been taken by him beforehand (“what? It’s not like we don’t share everything else, besides you’ve got decent taste! I just want to try it every time, you know?”), and as much as it made you feel like a creep and embarrass you, some small part of you enjoyed the fact that his lips had already touched the rim. 

You shivered, snuggling deeper into the blankets you’d buried yourself in. You were acutely aware of his presence on the other side of the admittedly small couch, but as the movie continued on, slowly your eyes drifted closed, sleep overtaking you. 

“Damn, wasn’t that such a good movie? I totally didn’t see the ending coming –“ He started, a wide grin on his face as he turned to face you, honey eyes appraising your sleeping form. 

The ending credits of the movie were rolling, the music slowly fading into the background as he stared, your peaceful, unconscious form looking absolutely beautiful to him. He’d known he was in love with you for a while now – since your first year in college, really, after you’d approached him during a shared class and practically begged him to study with you. He knew you were only asking platonically, but you were so sweet and funny, your laugh was addictive, your eyes so pretty, your body looking so good in your tighter shirt… 

Plus, you asked him to study – a poor choice, really, but that must’ve meant you’d noticed him and though you were smart! (You were sorely disappointed when he’d looked at you in confusion when you’d mentioned helium during your chemistry studying, but he was endearing so you let it slide.)

It was a bit of a hopeless spiral into his feelings, if he was being honest, and while he didn’t necessarily enjoy being stuck in a perpetual friend-zone with you, he was satisfied. He was just happy that he was able to spend time with you, to see you and speak with you, to have consistent movie nights like tonight where things became more bearable. 

More bearable, if only because he got to do the things he’d spend all week daydreaming about, thoughts of you racing through his mind late at night when the knowledge that you were only a few hundred feet away from him was starting to get into his head. Movie nights were a near weekly occurrence, marked by Friday nights spent in his apartment, the old worn couch getting its fair share of use in many, many ways. 

Yuu gulped, jaw going slack as he merely stared, the minutes ticking by slowly as his eyes raked over the curve of your nose, your brows and lashes, the soft parting of your lips. You were truly gorgeous, his ideal woman in every possible way, and as he slowly stood up, calling out your name a few times to make sure the drugs he’d spiked into your soda were effective, excitement began building up in his chest. 

Sure, it didn’t feel great to be doing this, to have grown a habit out of the way he slowly uncovered your form, the blankets being pushed to the side as his breath grew ragged, his sweatpants slowly beginning to feel too tight, but it was too late now to stop, the habit too ingrained into his mind to ever seriously quit. 

And as he pulled off his shirt and slowly wrapped your unconscious body into his arms, every ounce of guilt slowly drifted from his mind, the feeling of your form against his bare one making his head spin in the most wonderful of ways. 

Moving you to the bed was easy – despite your consistent complaints of being too heavy, your weight posed no problem to the young man as he carefully set you down on his bed, your head lolling back against the pillows as he analyzed your expression. You were still out, thanks to the copious (but not dangerous) amounts of sleeping agent he’d administered into the fizzy drink before you’d arrived, his fingers nearly trembling with excitement as he’d handed over the plastic bottle to you. You were always so gullible, a trait he found simultaneously endearing and worrying, though it wasn’t as if he had any real nefarious intentions – better him drugging you than some random creep, right?

At least he normally made you come. 

Yuu shivered, exhaling slowly as he tugged his pants off, his lack of underwear allowing his already mostly hard cock to spring free, the leaking tip flushed a dark red as he moved to situate himself between your legs, his hands lightly dusting over your legs as he debated what to remove first. 

Undressing you was always a process – a slow, methodical one, arguably one of his favorite parts about the whole ordeal. Depending on his mood, he’d start at different spots – if he was feeling more handsy, aching to grab onto you and never let go, your top and bra were first to go, followed by a solid twenty minutes of his hands carefully groping and squeezing at your breasts, pinching and playing with your nipples until they were puffy and sore looking, perfect to latch onto and suckle at while he basked in your scent. Other times, it was easier to simply begin where the real magic happened – if his cock was positively aching, desperate to be touched and buried inside of you, it was hard to hold back. Your shorts and panties would disappear, your legs spread and his tongue eager to work at your folds, getting you prepped for what he always swore would be a more gentle fucking, a situation in which he’d make love to you rather than hump into you like some wild animal. 

The promise had yet to be fulfilled, but with opportunities arriving every week, he was confident he’d manage to achieve his goals in the near future, right after the ever-present initial shock and ecstasy that being inside of you brought him. 

He shivered, reaching up to peel off the hem of your sweatshirt, your soft skin exposed as he carefully shifted you around. He was cautious to not bend your elbows in an uncomfortable or jostle you around too much, though he knew you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, much less from something as light as a few tugs. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of your bra – a simple t-shirt bra fit with a neutral shade, nothing he’d ever see on the cover of a magazine or in porn, but something arousing and enticing all the same, if his cock’s throbbing and pulsing had any say. 

As soon as his nimble fingers had unclipped the garment and tossed it to the side, immediately he was licking his lips, reaching up to run his fingers up your stomach and towards your chest, taking a breast in each hand and firmly squeezing. 

“Ah, Yuu, I love it when you touch me…” He whispered, voice rising in pitch to sound similar to yours, the fantasy of hearing you encouraging his sexual exploits with you sending yet another wave of arousal down to his groin. It had been strange, the first few times he’d tried to talk to himself and pretend to be you, embarrassing to the point where he’d struggled to meet your gaze for a few days later (though he’d laughed it off as some joke about how he’d just been fulfilling a dare about ignoring you). But as time passed and he’d gotten more used to it, he found himself suddenly unable to get off without imagining your responses. He found himself depending on imagining and imitating what your moans and whimpers of his name would sound like, the noises you’d make as he fucks you on his fingers or stuffs that pretty mouth full of his cock. 

“I love it too baby, you’re so fucking soft.” He groaned, hands squeezing a bit harder as he groped and kneaded at your breasts, pinching the pebbled flesh between his thumb and pointer finger as he lightly rutted against your thigh, the friction making him hiss and dip his head, nose coming to rest right over your clothed cunt. 

He inhaled deeply, the musky scent driving him wild with lust as his hips bucked extra hard, the sensation making him desperate for more more more, to see and feel your body clenching and creaming around him. 

After a final, harsher squeeze against your breasts, his hands wandered down your sides to rest at your hips, untying the drawstring to your shorts and tugging them down along with your panties. The recent development of you choosing quite possibly the shortest shorts he’d ever seen in his life to wear to your weekly hang outs was arguably one of the best things to happen to him, something he’d be eternally grateful for for years to come, a memory he’d look back on with flushed cheeks, a flustered smile and an aching cock. 

The sight of your pubic hair and bare thighs had him groaning, his eyes fluttering shut as anticipation roared through him, the familiar image making the phantom taste of your slick against his tongue stronger than he’d thought possible. Carefully grabbing your knees, he spread your legs further apart to expose more of your cute little cunt, before throwing your legs over his shoulders to allow more dexterity for what he was planning next. 

Now eyelevel with your cunt, Yuu shut his eyes and inhaled deeply once more, the smell stronger now, richer and more prominent and oh so fucking delicious, drool slipping down his chin as he shuffled closer, quite literally burying his face into the soft mound between your legs. He shivered, his entire body convulsing as he slowly gyrated his head, spreading the minimal slick and discharge along the bridge and tip of his nose, fully immersing himself in as much of you as possible. You were gorgeous, perfect and delectable, and as he lightly pulled back to lick his lips, Yuu groaned. 

“Please, no teasing Yuu, y’know I need you, I want you so bad.” He whined out, his hands finding solace at your thighs, finger tips digging into the plush fat to hold your unresponsive body still. Fantasies of the way you’d writhe and shake under him flooded his mind, the idea of you being so overcome with desire and impatience that you’d literally beg him to touch you, to taste you giving him a blood rush. 

“So impatient baby, so greedy…” His voice was muffled against the space of your inner thighs as he peppered kisses against the sensitive skin (though careful to never leave any hickeys or bruises, no matter how desperately the temptation ate away at him). “Always wanting so much, you’re so lucky ‘m so generous, all for my sweet girl.”

And with that, he dove in, licking a long strip up from your quivering hole to your clit, tongue circling around the little bud in earnest as he groaned, the sound sending vibrations against your body as you lightly moaned in your sleep. Lips attached to the bundle of nerves, cupping around the area as he sucked and licked, managing to work your body exactly how he’d learned after months of having you all to himself for hours at a hand, all with the sole goal of getting you ruined and hazy with sleep-ridden pleasure. 

Rationally, he knew that he didn’t really need to get you off before fucking you, especially with you being unaware either way, but the fantasies built up in his mind were more catered towards you genuinely enjoying the experience, moaning his name and grasping at his hair as he worked you towards an orgasm, getting you to the brink before pushing you over, making sure you were ready to take the oftentimes animalistic pace of his hips. 

Lewd sucking and slurping noises reverberated through the room, the movie having ended a while ago. He grunted against you, fingers digging into your thighs before moving one hand to gently prod at your entrance, his tongue continuing to work away at your clit. Carefully, he pushed a finger inside, the feeling of your walls clamping down on him driving his hips to hump forward. His comforter created a delicious mix of pleasurable pain against the sensitive skin of his cock. 

You whimpered lightly in your sleep, head lolling to the side, and for a moment Yuu froze, terror that you’d wake up slapping him harshly in the face. He stayed still for a few seconds, staring up at you with wide silver eyes and a ring of creamy, off white slick around his mouth and across his nose, before gulping and returning back to position. He needed to make you come, the urge too strong to ignore, and with a new vigor Yuu was curling and scissoring his fingers, rubbing up against the spots he knew had you jerking and twitching in your sleep. 

And, five minute later, he wasn’t disappointed in the least – your hips violently jerked upwards, a small gasp tumbling from your pretty lips as you orgasmed, your body shaking underneath the firm grip of his hand as he worked you through your high. His tongue never stopped moving, his fingers slowing their rhythm but never stopping, the entire experience of feeling your walls flutter and clench and seeing your chest rapidly rise and fall making him all too eager to pull back, but not before placing a quick kiss to your clit that had you twitching. 

Tongue flicking out to lick up any residual slick, he smiled down at your form, leaning over you on his knees to cradle your cheek with a cum-stained hand, whispering down at your unconscious form, “You’re so pretty, look so beautiful when you come for me, baby.”

“Anything for you Yuu, wanna make you feel good too.” He mumbled, fingers coming down to toy with your nipples again, idly flicking the sensitive flesh as he briefly lost himself in the imaginary conversation. 

“Oh yeah? And how are you gonna do that angel?”

“Wanna taste you, please?”

“Shh, tonight is about you princess, and you wanna suck my cock?”

“Yuu! Don’t say it so lewdly…”

“You’re not saying no, baby, that must mean you want my cum down that pretty throat of yours, huh?”

He moved to trace the shape of your lips with a callused thumb, his breath hitching in his throat when your lips parted, his thumb sliding inside to rest idly against your tongue. A strangled groan tumbled from his throat, his cock rutting against your newly slick pussy, the feeling making his eyes tightly squeeze shut. 

“You make it sound so dirty, just like it when you’re in my mouth okay? It’s not weird!”

He laughed, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and instead placing it in his own, sucking your spit off the appendage. “I know baby, I know. But right now, I wanna fuck you, wanna feel that tight little cunny squeezing me, ‘kay? And you know how much I love the little noises you make when you’re creaming on my cock.”

And with that, his hand traveled down to wrap around the base of his shaft, giving himself a few pumps that earned a soft hiss from his lips. His other hand moved to press against the mattress, supporting his weight as he nudged his tip against your slick folds, biting his lip as he languidly brought the tip up and down, collecting your cream, feeling the way it mixed with his precum as he slowly shuffled forward. 

Your legs were spread out at an odd angle, surely hurting your hips, but as he slowly, oh so fucking slowly pushed inside, Yuu couldn’t find it in himself to care – how could he, when your walls were sucking him in, wet and warm and fuck, how could you be so tight even after he’d prepped you? 

“Oh fuck, hnghh-“ He groaned, head lolling forward to bury itself in between the junction of your shoulder and neck, the overwhelming sensation of your pussy welcoming him in making his head swim. His breath came in pants, his muscles twitching as he tried to give your unconscious body a few moments to adjust, knowing that despite his work to get you loosened up and ready, it would still take a bit to get used to him. 

“God, do you even know how fucking goo – shit, good you feel baby?” He stuttered out, voice strained as he slowly pulled out, before pushing back in, keeping the pace slow and steady, as much for you as for him. 

The squelching noises of his cock stirring up your insides was euphoric to him, the sound of him fucking you making him dizzy, only furthering the sensations racing up his spine. The pleasure, even from being inside you for a grand total of forty five seconds, was mind-numbing, every part of him focusing on going deeper, harder, faster, giving you more more more – 

“Oh Yuu, oh – ngh, oh please, you’re so big!” He squeaked out, imagining the way your nails would scratch down his back, his hips pistoning into you, angling up to hit that spongey, magical spot inside of you that would have your back arching and your voice turning into a near scream.

“Oh god, fuckin’ - shit baby, wanna feel you come on my cock again please – “ He gasped, eyes squeezing shut as you gave a particularly hard clench around him, his balls twitching in anticipation. “Fuck, I love you, oh fuck I love you so much, I love you I love you I –“ 

“A-ah, what –“ A small mumble had Yuu freezing, silver eyes blowing wide as his hips stood at a stand still. He audibly gasped as his gaze darted down to your face, seeing your bleary eyes staring up at him, dizzy with sleep and confusion as you slowly took in your situation – Yuu above you, his face beet red with sweat lining his temples, the dull throb between your legs, the strange sensation of something stretching you out, pushing at your walls. 

The situation was slow to make sense to you, but as soon as he shifted slightly and the resulting sensation of something lodging itself deeper into you registered, your eyes were suddenly widening, fear and panic gripping your heart as you realized exactly what your former friend was doing, why the cold air of his room had felt so strange against your bare skin. 

“Oh my god – Nishinoya what the fuck – “ You started, hands coming up to push him away as you squirmed, but the way he suddenly plopped down onto you, pinning your legs and arms to your side had you halting any movements, the hand covering your mouth only making you panic harder. 

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to flail, thrashing underneath him only to find that he was much, much stronger than you remembered him being – not a single movement panned out, your limbs essentially useless as Yuu panicked above you, completely unsure of what to do next. 

What had happened? He’d been using those sleeping pills for months – not once had you ever woken up, regained any semblance of consciousness, anything at all! You’d been dead asleep for hours afterwards; plenty of time for him to get off and clean you up, to get rid of any trace of his activities, even as painful as scooping out the cum from inside of you had been. 

The sudden memory of the new brand of soda he’d bought on a whim surfaced, making his eyes narrow. Maybe there’d been some reaction with the drug? 

“I – oh fuck!” He started, eyes darting between yours, watching tears well up in them as you tried to bite at his hand, anything to get him away. 

Sure you’d had a crush on him, but what was he doing? You’d been asleep, you were sure of it – and here he was, fucking you, having presumably undressed you and done god knows what else. You felt sick, the sinking feeling in your gut making bile rise up the back of your throat. 

“I – I can explain!” He stuttered, mind racing as he tried to think of a solution to this, now that you were obviously terrified and likely hating him, thinking of him as some monster, a pervert, a criminal… 

A muffled scream slipped through your lips, one that had him cringing, his hand pressing harder against you in an effort to drown out the noise as much as possible. “Shh! I swear, this isn’t as bad as it looks – I, god, how do I explain this?”

His voice was miserable, defeated and still ragged from the fucking, but at the slight shift of his hips, your body betrayed you. A small whimper, muffled behind his hand but still audible, and the clench of your cunt around his cock had Yuu cursing, head falling forward slightly, the influx of emotion making tears spring up in his own eyes, matching your own pearly ones. 

“It’s just – well fuck, I might as well come clean then, huh?” He bit his lip, slowly moving his hips forward, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slowly fucked into you, the pleasure too overwhelming for him to stay still. 

You winced, the sensation of his cock brushing against your sensitive walls making you shudder, the pleasure certainly not what you wanted, and yet, with a small sob, it felt so good. It’s not fair, you thought – the man you’re in love with, taking advantage of you, and your body enjoying it so thoroughly, something that only gets confirmed as he slowly began speeding up, every thrust punctuated with a shameful moan of yours. 

“I’ve – oh, I’ve loved you since damn near the fucking second I met you, a-ah, always wanted you, oh fuck baby –“ He groaned, resting his forehead against the pillow next to your head, his weight still distributed onto you and keeping you in place. 

You froze, the sensations of his body and his words making your blood go cold, the idea that all this time, Yuu had felt the same hitting you like a ton of bricks. This was wrong, so wrong – and yet, why did your heart almost feel warm at his admittance?

“’ve wanted you, n-needed you, for so long, ‘m sorry, I’m sorry, god how are you still so damn tight,”, he hissed. “I’m sorry, oh fuck I’m so sorry oh –“

A particularly hard clench of your cunt had him gasping sharply, hips rutting up, the hold of his hand over your mouth momentarily broken in his moment of weakness. Quickly, your lips parted, preparing to scream for help, but Yuu’s hand was suddenly wrapped around your throat, pressing in harshly and making you splutter, the air barely circulating. 

“No! N-no, no please baby please, don’t do anything rash, shit, it’s okay, I know you like – like being choked.” He grunted, making your eyes go wide. “’ve seen you choke yourself a thousand damn times, looked so fucking pretty while you fuck that little cunt with your fingers.” 

You whimpered. 

“Ngh, makes it feel – fuck, feel better, huh? More intense?” He muttered, keeping his hand over your throat, occasionally letting you gasp in a bit of air, but not enough to muster up a scream. 

His hips were still snapping into yours, rutting up against that special spot, and before you could even question how he knew exactly where that spongy spot inside you was, the telltale signs of your orgasm were washing over you – that familiar tightness, the twitching of your muscles, the white edges of your vision. 

You came with a hoarse moan, a shameful sound that had you pathetically thrashing, your attempts to resist his thrusts and strength pitiful at best. Yuu groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as his hips stuttered, the fluttering of your walls pushing him towards his own orgasm. 

“Oh god, here it comes – oh shit, oh fuck, oh take it, take it take it take it -!” He moaned, the sound high pitched and desperate, and to your absolute horror a distinct warmth registered inside you, ropes of cum settling against your unprotected walls in bursts, making you stare up into those brown eyes lidded in ecstasy. His hand sporadically tightened around your throat, surely leaving harsh bruises against your sensitive skin.

After a few moments it was over, his hips finally slowing to a stop after fucking through his orgasm, his breath ragged and fanning over your face. He brought his lips down to yours, kissing you with a passion and desperation that had your head spinning, the feeling of his cock still lodged deep inside of you making you simultaneously disgusted and aroused. 

He parted after a few moments, your own breath harsh as well from the hand still limiting your supply of oxygen. He rested his forehead against yours, hazel eyes staring down at you, a million thoughts a minute racing through his mind. Somehow, despite your struggling, you’d been even better than what he was hoping for – perfection, literally, and while he would’ve preferred you to enjoy it, to engage with him and love the feeling of him inside of you, Yuu was glad for what he could get. 

“I – I love you.” He whispered, eyes wide and vulnerable, hazy with the after effects of pleasure. Your brows furrowed, body having grown numb from lack of blood circulation, and as the hand tightened and you slowly blacked out, the feeling of his hips beginning to move once more had you distantly squealing. 

“Love you, and fuck, guess I don’t have to confess, huh? Don’t have to worry about you saying no now.” 

[fawnduu]

EXTREMELY pleased to find out that you're on tumblr and that your blog is ofc gay as FUCK

i've been reading Dragon GF for years and idky it never occurred to me that you're on this gay ass hellsite

thank you for your service, sorry for the spam <3

OF COURSE!! I came back November 2022 so its still a somewhat recent return. This is actually my same blog from high school but when I came back I wiped my old posts and started fresh because nobody needs to see my 13 year self's text posts. This site runs through my veins. RIP to all the naked cosplay blogs, those girls and their tits are responsible for me coming out as gay.

[snail-eggs]

Fics For Gaza

In hopes of being able to raise money to aid those in Gaza, I have decided to join @ficsforgaza! They have lots of wonderful information on their blog, as well as vetted fundraisers; proof of donation to these will be necessary for for both sponsoring a WIP and requesting a drabble!

I will be doing this at a rate of $1/100 words, and will be updating my progress on each fic accordingly.

As for requests, I am bending my own no request/OC only rule and allowing them both for this cause. They can be up to 1k words and I am open to both SFW and NSFW.

With proof of donation (sensitive information redacted) you can send me an ask letting me know which WIP you would like to sponsor or what request for a fic you may have!

*updates for every WIP will be posted regularly until they are finished and posted. donors, if not anonymous, will be tagged.

you must be 18+ to send in a request, as per the rules on my blog

Sponsor a WIP:

Famous Last Words (An Ode To Eaters) | Baldur's Gate 3 | Astarion/OFC | Bones and All AU

This fic has been fully sponsored!

est. final wc: 10,500

current wc: 6,619

Ever since she can remember, Nyra has led a lonesome life fueled by her desire for flesh. To sink her teeth into it and rip it from the bone, feeling the pulse of her poor victim beating against her mouth. She lives drifting from place to place, giving in to this ravenous hunger that controls her, leaving nothing but devastation in her wake. But Nyra yearns for something else; a connection that she cannot quite place and it is only when she meets fellow eater Astarion that she finds it. It terrifies her, this intimacy. It is a thing she never thought she would know in her lifetime and yet here it is, in the form of the pale elf. Together, they traverse the country and fall into their gruesome routine, finding themselves becoming closer. Inseparable. A sense of normalcy and comfort washes over them that Nyra can't seem to settle into. Something is out there, watching them, and at every stop, she can feel it getting closer.

Urn | Cyberpunk 2077 | Johnny Silverhand/OFC

est. final wc: 25,000 (3 chapters)

current wc: 0

She watches from the church parking lot as animals are taken to slaughter. Looks into their sweet, mournful eyes from holes in shit covered trailers. Hers water. A dust storm is blowing through a town in middle-of-nowhere Texas and she’s in the thick of it. Letting the dirt erode her, the wind rock her from side to side. The storm howls. Shouts vile things in her ears that she cannot understand. It is violent — biblical in its anger. She listens.  Jessica Ferreira has lived in the same town her entire life and has, above all, learned to listen. 

Whistleblower | Resident Evil | Leon Kennedy/OFC

est. final wc: 50,000 (10 Chapters)

current wc: 0

Amateur reporter Lana Laguerre is going against every NDA, every penny and dime of hush money to expose what happened in Raccoon City. All the while, Leon Kennedy is desperately urging her to let it die. Her life hangs in the balance of this earth-shattering expose. Its 1999 and wounds are fresh in a city alive and teeming with endless possibility. Will Lana live long enough to see her story through?

Thoroughfare | Red Dead Redemption 2 | Arthur Morgan/ OFC

est. final wc: 15,000

current wc: 0

Arthur thought this would be easy. Rob the store and get out. Now with a shotgun at his temple, he can’t help but fear that his life is about to end. Ana’s has only just begun.

Requestable Fandoms:

Fallout (TV and game), Baldur's Gate 3, Dragon Age, Stardew Valley, Saints Row, Cyberpunk 2077, Red Dead Redemption 2, Watch Dogs/Watch Dogs 2

dividers @/saradika

[hustlerose]

Sorry for the spam likes today. Favorite jazz album?? I saw a post on your blog that mentioned Mingus ah um. That’s either my fave or Birth of Cool (Miles Davis does do my favorite version of On Green Dolphin Street). Though both are kinda basic choices I want to expand my listening.

so i'm gonna give you a few albums (and album-adjacent things) with the caveat that i haven't heard most of what's out there ^_^ i'm just a casual fan

ornette coleman - the shape of jazz to come

this album is on another level. the multiple layers of brass crisscross each other, playing dissonant chaos, then they rip into solos that could melt charlie parker's fingers. the bass shreds and stumbles up and down some wild assortment of scales. the drums patter out a frantic rhythm that somehow ties everything together.

it shouldn't make sense, but it feels so alive. you'll catch quotes from flight of the bumblebee over rainy oceans of rhythm. herds of wild animals shuffle back and forth in a forest painted by jackson pollock. and then whoever's not soloing yells "woo! alright!"

it's not even my favorite ornette coleman recording. that honor goes to this youtube upload of a live show in germany, 1978. the bass intro, instantly picked up by the drummer, is so electric. the haunting melodies, borrowed from the rite of spring, are traded from sax to guitar. the whole band feels like they're operating on instinct. this is what a basquiat painting SOUNDS like. like a genius artist drawing with their non-dominant hand. LITERALLY coleman plays a violin left-handed at one point. it's incredible.

john coltrane - my favorite things

trane puts so much panache into this simple little pop song. the opening chords are heavy with drama. the groove is insanely tight. every time he plays the melody, it's got a new rhythm, to the point where he seems to be playing a game with the listener. "how many ways can i get you to feel this groove?" the song is melted, bent, and stretched like molten glass, in a 13 minute display of total virtuosity

and that's just track 1!!!! this album is timeless. every second is as fresh and vibrant as it was in 1961

herbie hancock - headhunters

herbie has always been at the cutting edge of jazz fusion. this is his definitive statement on funk

this album is intensely rhythmic, laying out catchy melodies over funk foundations. the whole band seems to just be having a blast. the grooves are often busy and hypermelodic, with no room to breathe as everyone jams at once. it's like an all-night house party in a bouncy castle full of confetti

if you're a fan of japanese jazz like caseopia, or jazz-influenced video game music, this album will feel shockingly familiar to you. its wildly creative synth work, uplifting and colorful chords, and eclectic sound palette are all DECADES ahead of their time.

where would we be without herbie? i'd wager the entire global music landscape would be different. from hip hop to big beat to drum n bass, we all stand on the shoulders of giants. hancock is a titan. the giants that raise us up are standing on his shoulders

[99liners]

Would you be willing to write a drabble of what it was like for kaiho jk’s wife during the months after their marriage? how he made her quit, when she began to notice his red flag behaviour etc

opus kaiho, drabble number 2 / tatemae series 建前:

pairing: detective!jeon jeongguk x trophy!wife reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage!au, age-gap!au (7 years).

words: 4.437.

warnings: NSFW, nothing too graphic, emotional manipulation, uncommunicative!jjk.

original one-shot: kaiho

part of: tatemae; 建前 — a bts series  

a/n: man, this is extremely self-indulgent in places. my mans is tattooed and owns a harley davidson, then there’s bam too... sigh, i just couldn’t stop myself. i am ashamed. it’ll probably happen again. 

also, posting this early cause i have to make my bb @afangirllikeme-blog ‘s day! and also @chicken-fifi who is tryna threaten me,,, oof love that energy. (*/ω＼*)

“hi,” jeongguk’s voice came out in barely a whisper due to the lump in his throat which he cleared out to mumble the hi once more.

“mm, mornin’,” you replied, a smile finding its way to your lips. eyes squinting to adjust to the sunlight seeping in from the curtains that you two must have forgotten to draw properly last night.

well, last night was wild and the aftermath was glaring at you — jeongguk’s brand-new black tuxedo lay scattered; the blazer was barely hanging from the back-rest of his desk chair, the white shirt was lying at the feet of the bed and the black trousers were nowhere in sight. on the other hand, your white wedding dress lay unceremoniously in the middle of the room, the untouched material glowed even in such a predicament.

however, your attention from the mess was pulled away as jeongguk shuffled under the sheets before getting on top of you. his fingers grazed your arm before his hands guided your hands up, on either side of your head before intertwining your fingers with his. he leaned down, face to face, your chests mere metres away from each other as he rolled his hips to grind his semi hard-on against your core. he halted his movements the moment he felt the tip of his length grazing against fabric instead of your soft folds.

“you are wearing panties? thought i ripped those,” jeongguk let go of your hands to sneak a peek under the sheet.

“it felt weird to sleep without any so i put on a fresh one,” you replied, your body ever so twitching wherever his body next touched yours.

he repositioned himself to rest his head between the valley of your bare breasts while his free hand travelled down to the hem of your panties, “you slipped out of my arms? impressive. i always thought i was a light sleeper.”

“a light sleeper? you snore so loud that you probably would sleep over a gunsho- ow!” you seethed when jeongguk’s mouth found its way to your right nipple and his teeth clamped down on it.

“mm. well, you learn new things every day,” his tongue flicked your nipple before his mouth closed down over the areola to suck on it.

you lifted the sheet to see your newly wedded husband sprawled over your figure. the muscles on his tattooed hand flexed as he maneuvered his hand to insert his fingers under the panties, his fingernails grazing against your swollen folds from the passionate night.

“i thought the morning after tradition was to cook the first meal in the matrimonial house.”

“but you have already cooked the perfect meal. see, it’s so sensitive,” jeongguk twisted his fingers to stimulate your bud which had your legs trying to clamp together — your toes curling up.

you bit your lip to not let out any sound, afraid to wake up your in-laws in the guest room. last night, you both might have drifted off and there was quite a symphony of sounds but you sure as hell do not want to scar them anymore. when jeongguk came up on top of you again, you pulled him down — kissing him. he kissed you back with the same fervour, his hand wrapping your neck, deepening the kiss. your tongues lapped, matching with the speed of his fingers scissoring inside your folds.

jeongguk shrugged the cover off of you two as it kept getting caught and restricted movements. once the cover was gone, he held his length at the base, allowing the tip to grind against your folds in a slow motion while the other hand held the panties away from your entrance. yes, this is what he was missing. 

you could feel your breath hitch, your legs vibrated in reaction to his ministrations but wait — they were vibrating a bit too strongly. you reached your hand down to retrieve jeongguk’s phone vibrating to indicate an incoming call. 

your husband stopped at once and took the phone from you, in a plea to take the call.

“hey hey, no work, we just got married,” you kissed him but jeongguk pulled back.

“it’s the precinct, i have to take it,” he took the call and concluded the conversation soon after.

“i thought you took a break.”

“i applied for a vacation but we are short-staffed so i didn’t get one officially. if it was another case, i would have not gone but i have to be there for this drug bust,” jeongguk was at his feet by the end of the sentence, wearing his underwear while his busy hands unbuttoned a fresh shirt.

“are you serious?” you supported your figure on your elbows, raising your top part to gain a better view of his actions.

“mm,” he hummed as he finished buttoning his shirt before throwing on a pair of trousers.

“what about me?”

“what do you mean?” he sat down at the edge of the bed to put his boots on.

you crawled to his side and sat on his lap, as he finished tying the laces, “you are going to leave your newly wedded very-much-naked wife alone? for work?”

jeongguk placed an open-mouthed kiss on your lips before transferring you off his lap to the bed, “i thought you knew i can never be off duty technically.”

“well,” you sighed, bunching up the covers on your body.

“make yourself home, i guess,” he trailed off, checking the case status on his phone.

you watched as your husband walked out the bedroom door, not even a second glance at you and closed it behind him. a few moments later the sound of another door closing let you know that he left the confines of your matrimonial house. so, there’s that. he left you in his home with his parents on the first morning after the wedding.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. 

evening:

“mr jeon are you headed somewhere?” you asked upon noticing that jeongguk’s father came out of the guest room in a fresh pair of clothes.

“uh yes. my older son’s flight will be landing soon, i was thinking of receiving him at the airport,” the older man smiled at you, buttoning the sleeves of his shirt.

your hands mixing the cake batter (you decided to make cheesecake for dessert) ceased all motion at the mention of an “older son”. jeongguk has an older brother? since when? he never mentioned about a sibling.

“oh, yes, i thought he would join us during the ceremony,” you lied straight through your teeth after regaining your composure.

“no, his flight got delayed due to bad weather,” mr jeon took out his phone, “can you book me one of those internet taxis? uber or whatever it is called.”

“mr jeon, if you don’t mind, can i come along? i can drive us,” you offered nervously. the man scared the shit out of you — a retired army officer with a house decorated with medals. it always felt like he was about to yell at you.

“would you, dear? that would be great. i will wait here while you get ready.”

you debated if you should put in the cake in the oven now or after you come back when mrs jeon came out and relieved you.

“were you preparing dessert? don’t worry, i will look after it. you go with your dad,” she offered, smiling.

“amazing, i will be back in five minutes!” you chirped, wrapping the bowl of batter with a plastic wrap before heading to your new shared bedroom.

getting ready did not take long but finding jeongguk’s keys was impossible. your car was still in your apartment along with most of your stuff and you know that your husband’s old car sits in the garage, but you just cannot find the keys. 

“y/n? it’s been five minutes!” mr jeon’s call rang through your head.

“yessir. i cannot find the car keys, hold on please,” you replied while holding the phone to your ear, waiting for your husband to take the call. it rang and rang but he did not pick up. on your third try, he finally picked up.

“what?” his voice was rushed.

“where are your car keys?”

“you leaving me already? thought you would last at least a year.”

“haha funny, tell me. i need to drive your dad to the airport to pick up your older brother.”

“oh, yeah right. he’s coming,” jeongguk brushed over the fact that he has never mentioned about his brother, like it meant nothing, “my keys are in the wardrobe. it’s in the safe i think. the combination is 1609.”

“and, when will you be back?” you held the phone between your shoulder and ear as you opened the wardrobe and input the combination to the safe lock.

“soon. listen i gotta go, bye.”

he cut the call before you could reply. putting the phone in your pocket, you opened the safe door and saw two pairs of keys. ‘oh well,’ you took both the keys when your hand touched something metal. there was something in the back of the safe. curious, you reached out and brought it out only to realize it is a gun. an actual, real gun.

“fuck fuck fuck,” your hands trembled, and you put the gun back in the safe like it was some slimy disgusting bug.

“y/n?” one more call from mr jeon had you running out.

“sorry, sorry. let’s go!”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. 

at the airport, you noticed mr jeon walking towards the international flight entrance. the older brother lives abroad? what more is there left to unearth?

the ride back home was quiet mostly, the father-son duo did not talk much after the usual pleasantries. it was awkward, are they sure they are related?

once you guys reached, mrs jeon hugged her son and everyone went inside. you proceeded to park the car when you felt the bumper of the car hitting something. oh fuck. from the rear-view mirror, you saw that the car hit something wrapped underneath a white sheet. you finally parked the car properly before getting off and inspecting what is hiding underneath the sheet. a harley davidson street 750 peeked out from under the dusty sheet — oh right, there were two set of keys that you brought from the safe. once you finished fantasizing your husband riding the motorcycle, you turned your gaze to the bumper, it was crumpled inward where the exhaust of the motorcycle hit the car. you crouched down and pulled it out with all your might and tried your best to make it look unscathed and unscratched.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.  

after the dinner concluded, mr and mrs jeon went to retire in the guest room while jeongguk’s older brother, jaeyoung helped you to clean up.

“i am sorry, i have to admit but jeongguk never told me he had a big brother,” you confessed sheepishly as he handed you the dirty dishes.

“not surprised. we are not really that close.”

“i seriously would have no issue to postpone the wedding had i known that you were on the way.”

“don’t beat yourself up over it, it’s okay,” he reassured you.

“right,” you smiled, soaking the dishes, “so like are you in california for a job or have you permanently moved there?”

“oh, i moved years ago. see, as you can probably tell, i am nothing like my dad so he did not really care much about spending time with me. he was too much involved in gguk’s life and slowly we drifted apart. man, your husband and i used to be inseparable as kids.”

“no... that’s too bad. why did you guys stop hanging out?”

“well, when he finished middle school, dad put him in the military school because gguk had wanted to be a cop. i mean he was kid, he wanted to be everything at that age but my dad’s chest swelled up with pride the moment he learned his son wanted to be a cop. he thought it was ‘cause gguk wanted to be like him, like he was inspired by him.” jaeyoung scoffed before continuing, “even during middle school, dad used to personally train him and we spent less and less time before he was finally sent off. a year after gguk went away for high school, i also got accepted in UCLA and left. we just lost touch that’s all, never felt like coming back.”

“i bet mr and mrs jeon miss you,” you sighed feeling bad for your brother-in-law.

“well, they visited twice. once for my wedding and then when my first kid was born.”

“you have kids? can i see?” you wiped your hands and walked to the other side of the kitchen aisle as jaeyoung brought out his phone and showed you the pictures of his kids.

“this is the older one, jason. he is ten and my daughter jennie will be six next summer.”

“so adorable,” you beamed as he showed you pictures from when they were kids.

“yeah, surprisingly they both love their uncle gguk. he came to california for some international case and stayed a summer. the kids love that guy.”

“really? man, i wish i could see them.”

“well i would bring them but my parents don’t really approve of my wife.”

“huh, why?”

“apparently, she is too white for them,” jaeyoung shrugged.

“wow, that must hurt. i bet they are happy that you are happy. you have such a beautiful wife and adorable kids.”

“thanks, y/n. it was great talking to you, i guess i will get some sleep.”

“of course. hey, i know it’s not my place but i am so sorry jeongguk hasn’t clocked out of work yet to be here with you.”

jaeyoung chuckled, “hon, if you start apologizing for my brother’s shortcomings, believe me, you won’t ever be able to stop cause there is no end. have a goodnight.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it had been barely two minutes that you closed the main door after your in-laws left for busan when the doorbell went off again. you noticed how the sharp sound echoed in the empty walls — proof that you were alone now.

“hi, can i help you?” opening the door, you noticed a man with a dog on a leash.

“hi, you must be mrs jeon. mr jeon asked me to drop off bam.”

“bam?” you stared at him, clueless.

“this good boy right here,” the guy patted the head of the doberman pinscher standing beside him dutifully.

“detective jeon’s dog?”

“yes, the apple of his eye. please don’t be scared, he looks scary but is a sweetheart,” the trainer spoke about his diet after taking the dog off the leash once you were all in the living room. he left shortly after petting the dog one last time.

long after the trainer left, the dog and you kept staring at each other. bam did not look too pleased to find you in his house. he circled you once, sniffed your clothes and sauntered to the couch to sit down at the edge.

once the dog sat down, your body unfroze, and you immediately dialled your husband, “we have a dog???”

“hey baby. bam has arrived? he was at the kennel since we got married. how is my boy?”

“unpleased. i don’t think he likes me.”

“he is still a puppy, he can be moody sometimes. don’t worry about it.”

“jeongguk. you have a dog. a dog you didn’t tell me about it. just like the brother you didn’t tell me about.”

“are you scared of dogs?”

“no! i love dogs. bam looks adorable but it would have been better if you had introduced us slowly so he could get used to me. that’s a doberman... one wrong move and he will have my neck... wait, that’s all beside the point. why the hell don’t you tell me anything?”

“i tell you things all the time.”

“yeah? if you did, i would not have a doberman pinscher glaring me down in my living room one fine afternoon.”

“look, we will talk when i get home, bye.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

two weeks later:

“jeongguk, i would really appreciate it if you would just talk to me more. tell me things,” you voiced out, changing the pillow covers while your husband was freshening up in the washroom, getting ready for bed.

“i am not a talkative guy, i never was,” he replied casually, after gargling out the toothpaste foam with mouthwash.

“i know but you used to tell me stuff.”

“what do you want to know?” he sighed, walking out of the washroom rubbing his face dry with a towel.

“i don’t know. anything really. i am bored at home.”

“let’s see, mmm, hyung flew out tonight.”

your head snapped up at the statement as your hands stopped midway through pulling the pillowcase on the last pillow.

“what?” jeongguk plopped on the bed, stretching his limbs.

“your brother flew out tonight and you didn’t tell me?” your tone dripped sarcasm.

“yeah i mean, not like you would have gone to the airport to see him off.”

“uhm, y e s, i actually would have. see this is what i am talking about! you don’t tell me shit! you are always off to work while i stay here cooking and cleaning without any information. you come back home at odd hours, and we rarely talk. you eat, we fuck and then you drift off to sleep for barely four-five hours and then off to work again.”

“baby, come here,” jeongguk reached out his hand and tugged you down on him. you lost your footing and fell on his chest, but he caught you effortlessly.

“no! you always do this,” you kept trying to push him away, but he laid you down beside him, his face hovering over yours.

jeongguk leaned down, placing kisses on your lips till you finally gave up and kissed him back, “mm, how do you manage to look so hot all the time?”

“smooth talking isn’t getting you out of anything,” you pried his hand away that had slithered under your dress. 

“come on, i am barely home, let’s not fight,” he trailed kisses down your neck, his hand massaging your breast, his touch was rarely gentle these days.

you sighed, “that’s the whole point. you are never home.”

jeongguk stopped, hung his head low for a few moments before getting off of you, “look, i have a bad headache. let’s just sleep,” he laid back down, resting his head on the pillow.

you turned to him, feeling bad. suddenly it went from him not communicating with your properly to feeling guilty because you could not relieve him from the work stress he probably goes through every day, being the senior detective of the most active precinct in seoul cannot be an easy feat.

“i am sorry for nagging,” you bit your lip, sitting up, “i will get you some aspirin.”

“no, it’s fine. come here,” he pulled you back down again next to him, wrapping his arm around your waist, throwing his leg over your lower body as he got comfortable and closed his eyes.

you watched quietly as his breath evened out and he fell into a slumber. you shifted a bit sideways under his arm to get into a more comfortable position and watched bam walking inside through the half-open bedroom door. you advanced your hand towards him which he licked once before lying down on the floor under your side of the bed. big sleepy baby yawned and went to sleep. you smiled — that dog was literally what kept you busy all day but he is such a well-trained sweet baby that most days you two just laze around on the couch and spent quiet days watching television while he chewed on his toys as you rubbed his back and gave him all the scratches and kisses, he could ever ask for. bam has gone from sniffing you suspiciously to absolutely adoring you. his face lights up when you come back after grocery shopping — poor baby hates being away from you. jeongguk often teases you that you stole his dog.

well that’s what he gets for never being home. 

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“why don’t you consider going back to work?” tanaz asked as she took a sip from the second bottle of beer, one fine evening as you met up in a restaurant nearby to hang out.

“oh god, that’s another conversation. i keep bringing it up that i want to go to work and he keeps brushing it off, saying that he might get leave for a vacation anytime soon,” you replied, playing with the label on the beer bottle.

“doesn’t matter. also, why do you need to ask him before going back to work?”

“not like i am asking for permission... i am just... talking to him so he’s on onboard too.”

“babe, that is asking for permission. since when did you become like this? you guys barely tied the knot like a month ago.”

“three-and-a-half weeks and i don’t know but it’s just this aura about him, i don’t know how to explain it. you would know if you are in his company,” you rolled your eyes when tanaz interrupted with a ‘like i would ever’, “look, i don’t know, okay? i just don’t. but i cannot just do something without him being onboard at least because like, how is that marriage? you gotta communicate.”

“yes, i agree with that.”

“anyways, what’s up with you? what happened to the whole surgeon situation?”

“looks like i am going to have to be his bride.”

“you serious?” you finished peeling off the label, a bad habit when you have a lot of things on your mind — you get too fidgety.

tanaz snatched the destroyed label from you, putting it away wrapped in a tissue to be cleared later on, “yes. i really expected better from my parents. i mean, i never grew up hearing even a single word regarding marriage, they were never like you are a girl so you have to get married early but suddenly, this guy walks in and they cannot stop yapping about him. they literally call him their son-in-law. i am literally sitting there bro, their own daughter.”

you sighed, “i never realized it was that bad. do you want me to talk to them?”

“you can try, i will appreciate that. just don’t mention that you are married or they will get on with the whole ‘omg your friends are getting married too’ bandwagon.”

you deadpanned, “bro, they literally came to my wedding and attended all the marriage ceremonies.”

tanaz face-palmed, “i am not getting out of this alive.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.  

three days later:

“gguk, we need to talk,” you exclaimed, breathless after jeongguk let go your lips from a heated make-out session in order to unbutton your shirt.

“don’t cockblock me like this, baby. we can talk later, i ain’t leaving,” jeongguk trailed kisses down your collarbone, his hands unbuttoning every button with ease.

you re-buttoned them after he unbuttoned them, “really? it’s two in the morning and you just came back from work. come morning, it’s monday and you are going to leave for duty by eight. when will we talk?”

jeongguk groaned loudly, his lips detaching from the supple skin of your throat. his head hung low at the crevice of your shoulder before he took a step back, “what is it?” he rolled the sleeves of his sweat-drenched shirt, a bit stained from the coffee he spilled earlier at work. he leaned his weight on the hand placed flat on the kitchen counter, effectively cornering you in your place.

“i keep waiting but your vacation request keeps getting pushed back. i am going to work from tomorrow,” your eyes cowered every now and then as his towered over you.

“am i not earning enough for you? is that it?”

“what? where is that even coming from? i just want to keep busy. i get bored around here.”

he took steps towards you, your feet backing up in tandem till your back latched to the wall, “i work my ass off, sometimes even clocking in more than twelve hours so i can give you everything you want in life, so i can take you on that stupid fucking trip to paris and this is what i get when i come home late at night, clearly tired from working all day?”

“bu-but, look, all i am saying is that you don’t have to do it alone. we can save up together,” there was a desperation in your voice, desperation to get out of that predicament; both physically and emotionally.

“baby,” jeongguk’s features softened, his hand coming down to cup your cheek. if you didn’t know better, you would have flinched at the sudden actions, “i hate coming back to an empty house. if you are gone, i would keep thinking about your safety instead of focusing on work. plus, we have bam. he is smitten to you. wanna leave him all alone in this house all day?”

“we can get a trainer or put him in doggy care,” you mumbled, feeling the back of his fingers caressing your cheek.

“would you be able to do that? leave him off at doggy care? you won’t miss him for a second?” he leaned, resting his forehead gently against yours.

“i would miss him but we both would get used to it,” you tried to reason, looking up at him.

“mm? please, don’t go. i really don’t want to come back to an empty house. i have done it for years but ever since you have walked into this house, i just cannot even imagine that. i swear worrying over you would be the death of me. can you please do this for me? please stay back,” his doe-eyes burned through your eyes — his gaze was not sharp, rather quite gentle, vulnerable even and you have never seen him so vulnerable, so close to you.

being unable to refuse him in such a state, you nodded slowly — earning a kiss on the forehead before he spanked your ass, pushing you towards the shared bedroom.

“go ahead, i will change and join you,” your husband smiled at you, before winking in your direction.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.  

feedback is deeply appreciated. ✨

masterlist | bts masterlist | rules | ask box

- jaimie

© 𝟫𝟫𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈, 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟤. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃.

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Eivor x Femme!Reader - Animalistic Urges

Kinktober 08: Primal Play [explicit]

Contains: strap-on usage, butch/femme implicit

Word count: 745

Ao3 link here.

Men, minors and ageless/default blogs DNI. You will be blocked immediately upon interaction.

Docile little things made for a wolf’s ideal prey: oblivious to the cunning, voracious eyes following them, and once fang meets flesh, delectable.

The Wolf-Kissed was something of a wolf herself. She caught scent of something new, something fresh about you, and her eyes hardly left you since. You returned from the settlement’s trade post yester-eve with an ornate decanter in hand, and when dawn broke, you dabbed a droplet of its contents onto your neck. Rose water. A delicate, feminine fragrance. Eivor found it maddening.

Where your lover was a wolf, you were nought but a lamb. Unbeknownst to you, Eivor had silently tracked your day’s errands, awaiting the perfect moment for an ambush to arise. Cobalt eyes stalked after the sway of your hips, entranced by the liquidity they invoked in the fabric adorning them. She needed only a brief moment in your solitary company – a minute to whisper every detail of what the floral notes dusting your throat made her feel, and to ask if you’d slip away to satiate her hunger, for the gods knew her patience would not last ‘til twilight.

The opportunity arose. All it took was some poetic filth for you to be lured away from the pen of Ravensthorpe, deep into the heart of the forest, where the wolf could feast uninterrupted.

Nature willed it so; lupine teeth grazed the throat of the ovine caged below. The mellow rose laced into the scent of you was divine, and she breathed it in deeply as she sucked on the supple skin of your neck. Eivor’s blood roared with the need to flood her tongue with your taste, and devour you she did. You writhed underneath her, thighs trembling around her ears until you dripped down her chin and then some. The cries bleeding from your kiss-bruised lips were of ecstasy, not agony. She saw no reason to cut them short.

Now, atop a blanket of dirt and autumn leaves, a song of grunts, mewls and snarls echoed through the forest as she knelt and rutted into you like a beast. Your hips melted into her hands, eager to chase the length of the leather sheathed inside you with every deep thrust. Soil stained the underside of your nails as you tore the earth below apart, clawing wildly whenever she bottomed out.

She laid a pile of clothes beneath your head – although possessed by this primal fantasy, she would never risk a splinter slicing her sweet lamb’s face. Tragically, it muffled your raw, guttural moans, but Eivor needed only steepen the angle of her hips and endure the slight burn that followed to have your back arching, drooly lips lifting off the linens to sob freely. Sometimes, you would slur some strangled, garbled variant of her name, too enthralled with bliss to form words. Her heart swelled at the sounds. Prey shouldn’t have to think, after all.

The silky, slick warmth of your cunt pulsed around her cock. Eivor swore she could feel it through the leather. She ground into the fantom feeling, ignoring the searing in her thighs as she pushed down on your hips, burying herself deep enough into your viscera to always be pressed against that sweet spot inside of you.

You almost choked on your own spit, and fuck, was that a pretty sound. Eivor watched, eyes frenzied, as wetness seeped onto the length of her toy. Leaning into you, she maintained a slow, rough tempo, needing to rip more of those noises from your throat.

“Please,” you wailed deliriously in broken tongue. She grunted, resisting the urge to kiss the skin of your back. You needed her just like this, relentlessly pounding into the spot that rendered you a wanton, shaking mess. Her stamina waned, but she refused to fold, not with you grabbing tight fistfuls of the earth with every thrust, coarsely moaning, “Please, please, pleaseplease—”

Suddenly and violently, your frame seized up with a ragged cry of her name. Eivor stilled her hips, finally able to hunch over you and kiss your trembling, salt-licked flesh as you shook underneath her. She buried her nose into your neck, breathing in what hadn’t faded of the floral fragrance that brought about her lustful mania to begin with. It was softer, now more comforting than alluring, bringing a lazy smile to her lips. Still delicate, still feminine. But undoubtedly, one day, it would have her tailing you like a feral mutt all over again.

[yanphobia]

Cleithrophobia - Chapter 11

Cleithrophobia: The fear of being trapped.

Pairing: Yandere Male Drider OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, Spiders, NonCon Touching, Possible NonCon (depending on reader's interpretation), Implied Female Reader (although it doesn't really factor too heavily into the plot), Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 10 Index

Author's Note: Aaaand that's a wrap! I was going to wait until next week to post this, but you've all been so good waiting for updates that I thought you deserved to get it early. It's been so much fun starting this blog and seeing your reactions to the new chapters, and I can't wait to get started on my next story. I have a few ideas bouncing around, so stay tuned! But in the meantime, enjoy the final installment of our angry spider man!

This story was inspired by cobalt-sphinx's Drider x Reader from Quotev.

You didn't die that night; no. Death would’ve been kinder. 

Every waking moment, the events of that night haunted you. Every time you fell asleep, it was as though you were reliving it all again. 

Mars hadn’t let up the second you fell into his den. You tumbled down the tunnel that would be too steep to ever climb out of and slammed against the cold ground of the hollowed-out nest below, dimly lit with the lantern you had left in your meeting spot earlier in the night. The impact caused you to lose your breath, but almost immediately he was lifting you up again, roughly shoving his tongue down your throat as you weakly attempted to push him away. 

Then he carried you to the newly laid webs in the corner... you shut your eyes. You didn’t want to remember what happened next. 

But even now, you could still feel his hands ripping through your clothes, shredding them and leaving you in your most vulnerable state. You could feel his fangs tearing through the soft, delicate flesh of your body, the wet sound of his mouth slurping up your blood in between his loud proclamations of hate. Your voice was gone from all of the screaming, and crying, and begging for mercy, and you weren’t sure how often you passed out only to wake up again in the throes of your torture. 

He had left no part of you untouched, unviolated, and you haven’t seen him since. 

At some point, you had woken up to find him gone, and although it was impossible to tell how long you’d been here, it had to have been at least a few days. You were forced to lie there, starving and weak in a pool of your own blood and waste, as you fought with yourself to maintain your sanity. There was something inside of you, some weak desire to escape from the hell you’ve been subjected to, that was keeping you alive.  

It was quiet, but eventually you heard the scratching of his legs against the dirt walls of the tunnel. He stopped when he reached the bottom, no doubt confused by the darkness of the den. You couldn’t bear to look at your injuries anymore, and over the course of a few excruciating hours you were able to roll over and turn the lantern off. 

“This,” he said, as you heard him approach, “was supposed to stay on!” 

The lights flickered on and you saw your captor’s irritated face, which quickly turned to surprise. It would’ve been almost comical, if you had the heart to laugh. The two of you looked each other over, him, holding the corpse of a goat by its broken neck, and you, looking like a prey animal that had met a much slower end. As he took you in, his confusion turned to an obvious disgust, and the embarrassment and shame you felt at your current state overtook you. 

“...” 

“They’re infected.” You were quick to explain. “The wounds, they’ve, uh... they’re festering. They need to be treated.” 

It was awful and seeing them again was nothing short of nightmarish. There had been nothing here to clean them when they were fresh, and you wouldn’t have had the strength to do so anyway. In your solitude, you slowly watched as the area around the lacerations swelled and reddened, while a thick, foul-smelling pus leaked out of them. They burned and the redness spread around your body, along with the fever that’s been plaguing you ever since. Your skin glistened with sweat as you watched your skin begin to yellow, and then blacken, shriveling away to reveal the deep-seated fascia and layers of fat underneath. You laid there in agony as your condition worsened, all the while remembering your readings about the necrotizing properties of spider venom.  

You were rotting away, from the outside in. 

“Please...” you begged, your voice so weak and pathetic sounding that it only embarrassed you further. “Please, let me go. I just have to... have to treat it. I have to go to a hospital.” 

He remained unimpressed. “Do you really think that will work on me?” 

“I’m serious!” You begged. “I’ll do anything... I’ll come back the second that I can. But I can’t put it off any longer...!”  He eyed your injuries again, observing old blood stains on the webs underneath you. The smell was nauseating, and perhaps that was what made him compromise. 

“I’ll get you water-” 

“No! Water would not do anything at this point, not this far along.“ The only thing that could save you now was a clean environment, with plenty of antibiotics, steroids, skin grafts. 

“Please,” you tried again, “I swear to you that I will come back. I’ll die if I don’t!” 

“You’ll die?!” He scoffed. “What do you think I do every day? How do you think I feel, knowing that you’re here, wanting to be close to you, but then remembering all of the shit that you did to me?! What I suffer, [Y/N], is a fate worse than death, and all of it is because of you.” 

He leaned closer and held up the dead goat. 

“This-” he said, shaking it in front of your eyes, “is what I’m supposed to be. An apex predator, one that listens to no one, especially not a useless human like yourself!” 

And with that, he tore into its flesh. He maintained eye contact with you as you watched the meat of its body break down and liquify. You imagined yourself in the later stages of your necrosis, with your internal organs falling apart the same exact way.  

You didn’t have it in you to be sick anymore. You were too numb. As you watched Mars devour his meal, you realized that this was the exact fate that you deserved. For all of the things that you’ve done to the people you claimed to care about. For Laura, Stan, and Shadow, whose deaths you had caused. You could never be allowed to make a full recovery, physically or mentally, because you have not earned it. 

You sighed, closed your eyes, and waited for nature to take its course. 

--- 

Mars stared down at your unconscious form. You hadn’t been responsive for a few days, and he had lost the last of his patience. He knew, in his heart, that you were being dramatic, that your injuries THAT HE INFLICTED UPON YOU were not nearly as bad as you claimed. He even cleaned your wounds for you, scrubbing them down using water from a nearby pond YOU’D TOLD HIM WATER WAS NOT ENOUGH TO HEAL YOU and the scraps of your old shirt. 

He’s done everything he could NO HE HASN’T but you still refused to wake up. 

“Hey.” He barked out. Silence. 

“HEY.” This time he kicked you. Again, silence. 

He knelt, taking one of your hands in his. He briefly glanced over the withered, blackened fingertips and yellowed, peeling nails, before biting into your cold palm. Blood gushed from the puncture, and he waited intently for you to wake up screaming, but he was still met with silence. 

He stood and dropped your hand, which fell listlessly to the ground, and licked your blood from his lips. It was off, somehow, extremely sour and not at all as warm and sweet as it used to be. 

His hands raked through his hair as he thought to himself. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what a rotten carcass looked like, he had seen them many times out in the woods. But you weren’t dead. You couldn’t be. 

Slowly, he approached you again, and even slower, he lowered his ear to the marred flesh above your heart, ignoring the bit of yellow puss that rubbed off onto his cheek. 

A heartbeat. He could barely feel it, much less hear it, but it was still there. He looked again at your disfigured face, at the deep cuts in the muscles that so closely resembled the raw meat that you used to bring to him. 

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what a creature in its final moments looked like. 

--- 

You had no way of feeling your naked body being wrapped in a dirty threadbare blanket, or the night’s cool air on your face. You couldn’t feel the way it rocked back and forth as it was carried through the forest. You couldn’t feel it being propped up against the wooden balusters of a front porch, either. 

You could, however, hear a voice pulling you back from the darkness that you had been lost in. 

“Alright, you’ve won.” It said. It kept tugging on the fabric around you. Adjusting it. 

“I’ll take your previous deal.” 

When a star is about to die, it receives one final burst of energy before it diminishes completely. Why that was the first thought you had as you mustered up the strength to open your eyes... you could not tell. 

Your vision was blurry, and in your left eye it was almost entirely gone. You didn’t have a way to see how milky and deteriorated it had become. But somehow, you were able to make out a few pairs of red eyes staring at you, and a wide, thin mouth which revealed black fangs when it spoke next. 

“Go, then, to your little human hospital and sort all of this out. And then afterwards – immediately afterwards – you'll come home again. Don’t... don’t you di-” 

His voice caught in his throat, then he huffed in annoyance. 

“Don’t you try to screw me over, okay? I’ll know if you try to get out of this one...!” 

He stood up then, seemingly miles above you, and gave one final warning: 

“Go there and come right back, [Y/N]. Just like you promised.” 

Your eyes began to defocus as you heard him bang loudly on the front door and run away, into the pitch-black forest behind you. The door opened, and you heard the woman’s voice change as she processed the macabre scene before her. 

“Hello? What is...? Oh... oh my God! Kids! Brandon, Kayla, get in your rooms! Get in them, right now! Charlie, I – Charlie, call 911! You- hey... are you alive? ...Listen, we’re going to get you help! We’re calling an ambulance! Just... just stay awake, alright? Just don’t fall asleep...!” 

You held on to her words as much as you could. Deep down, you still felt the animalistic urge to continue living. No, a part of you still wanted to believe that you could get through to the other side of this, as little as you may deserve it. But as your eyelids pulled themselves closed, and as you felt your conciousness begin to slip, you weren’t so sure that you had the strength to hold on anymore... 

THE END.

[goldenseresinretriever]

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 14

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, You Catch More Bees With Honey. It was originally posted in November-March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You stretch as you sit up in your seat as the plane starts to descend for landing. You’ve spent the last few hours with your head tucked on Bradley’s shoulder. You lean the other way now, staring out the window at the city of Philadelphia. It’s not your first time in Pennsylvania but you’ve never been to Philly. You turn to see Bradley watching you, a fond look in his eyes that makes your cheeks heat. You reach for his hand, threading his fingers with yours. “You ready?” You whisper and you watch emotions swirl in his eyes as he looks past you out the window. For over a decade, this was his home, and he had been unfairly ripped from it just a few months ago. You know the wound is still fresh and aching and while you’re excited to see the city he loves so much, you can’t help the way your heart aches for him. You wish you could just go back home and wrap him in your arms, chasing away his demons with the strength of your feelings for him.

Home. It’s weird how natural it feels, to call Bradley’s apartment your home. Since the other day, you’ve been spending more and more time there. Feet swinging as you perch on the counter while Bradley cooks for the two of you. Curled under soft blankets on the couch, wrapped in his arms. You hadn’t spent the night again, though. Not for any particular reason, at least that’s what you tell yourself. It definitely has nothing to do with the sheer strength of your feelings for Bradley. They’re growing every day, at a rate that threatens to overwhelm you. You know you made a choice that day, asking Bradley to kiss you in the kitchen, where it had become clear that he was clearly as desperate for you as you were for him. That knowledge is the only thing keeping you from spontaneously combusting at the size of your feelings. You love him. You know you should tell him, let him in all the way, but you’re terrified because you’re not sure you’ve ever loved anyone this way. Sure, you’ve said the words before, to other men a lifetime ago, but you were a different person then. One that didn’t yet know loss and perhaps didn’t even know love. Not the romantic kind, at least. You’d always known love. Your mom made sure of that, and your dad too. And then Mickey, showing you love in little ways until you broke apart and let him show it to you in bigger ways. And now Bradley, showing you love in the quiet.

You squeeze his hand gently when he doesn’t answer immediately. His gaze shifts to you and you smile softly at him. “Where’d you go, Bear?” He shakes his head, bringing your clasped hands to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles.

“Nowhere, Honey. I’m right here.” You know he’s lying but he’ll come to you when he’s ready. The two of you are similar in that way.

***

You glance down at your keycard, trying not to frown. Cyclone had eased up on his insistence on you babysitting Bradley since he stopped causing trouble during games and as a result, you’ve no longer been assigned to share a room with him. Technically, you’re sharing with Dragon but she’s sleeping in Mickey and Bob’s room and Mickey’s now your roommate. “Ready, roomie?” Mickey chirps excitedly as he slings an arm around your shoulder. You force a smile onto your lips, trying to disguise your disappointment. Mickey’s not a bad roommate by any means, you lived with him for two and a half years after all. There are far worse people you could be stuck rooming with than your best friend but you can’t help but consider the alternative. Mickey skips off to chat with Bob about something and you drop the smile as a chuckle sounds in your ear.

“Someone looks disappointed.” You turn to scowl at Javy who’s grinning mischievously at you. You’re about to tell him you’re not in the mood for his teasing when he dangles a keycard in front of your nose, a smirk twisting his lips as your eyes widen in surprise. “I’ll handle Mickey, go get your man.” You can’t help how your face lights up instantly and you can’t even find it in you to be mad as Javy laughs at your transparency. He hands you his keycard and takes yours with a wink. “Don’t forget to use protection.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the giggle that spills from your lips as you turn to track down Bradley in the crowded lobby. “I think he already headed upstairs, sweetheart,” Javy informs you and you turn back to him, full-on grinning now.

“Thank you, Javy.” It’s his turn to roll his eyes and he waves you off.

“Just go, before Garcia realizes you’re gone.” You nod and check around to make sure no one’s paying attention to the two of you before you make your way to the elevator. You can’t help the way you fidget as the elevator climbs the floors and you can’t help but think of a different elevator you’d stood in with Bradley, the night everything changed between the two of you. You can’t help the way your thighs clench at the memory of Bradley growling in your ear, his brazen hands squeezing you close. The elevator reaches your floor and you collect your things, lugging your suitcase and garment bag after you as you search for the room listed on the cardholder. You hesitate, considering knocking, but Javy gave you the key after all and so you simply pass it over the reader, turning the handle when the green light flashes and the door lock clicks open. You push open the door, awkwardly as you struggle between your luggage and the heavy door, one hand still gripping the keycard. You manage to shuffle in, loudly clattering down the sort hallway that opens into the bedroom. Bradley’s sitting on the bed by the window, socked feet up on the covers when he turns, brow furrowed. “Machado, could you please try to be at least a little quieter-” the words dying on his lips as he takes in your slightly disheveled appearance, laden with your luggage. “Honey?” The question is instantly in a softer tone, one you’ve realized is reserved for you and Dare.

“Hi,” you manage before starting to move again, and then your suitcase’s wheel spins roguely and slams into your ankle and you let out a squawk of pain as your balance is thrown off and you throw your full hands in front of you in an attemp0t to avoid faceplanting onto the carpeted floor. You brace for the impact, squeezing your eyes shut but it never comes. You carefully ease your eyes open to look up at Bradley who’s got his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.

“Honey,” his voice is concerned and exasperated as he chides you gently. You give him a rueful smile as he helps you stand, taking items out of your full hands. “What are you doing here?” He asks, raising an amused eyebrow and you feel your cheeks heat as you show him the keycard.

“Javy told me to, and I quote, ‘go get your man.’” Bradley's eyes brighten and he chuckles as he bumps your nose with his.

“You man, hmm? I wonder who that is? He’s a lucky man.” You giggle and rub your nose against his.

“Is he now?” You whisper and he gazes down at you with a fondness that makes your knees weak.

“He is,” Bradley affirms before stepping away and you try not to whimper at the loss. He hangs your garment bag in the closet, and you place your suitcase in there as well as he places your purse on the desk. You lean against the empty bed that would have been Javy’s, suddenly shy as Bradley comes over to you, gently pulling you with him as he backs up towards his bed. He raises an eyebrow in question when the backs of his legs bump the bed and before you can answer, your phones chime, reminding the two of you that you’re expected back downstairs ASAP after freshening up and changing. The boys have a full evening of practice at the Flyer’s rink.

“We should get ready to go,” you remind Bradley and he lets out a groan, leaning his forehead against yours. You nuzzle his nose with yours. “You ready for this?” You whisper. He lets out a heavy sigh and you feel his body press harder into yours as he leans against you. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, gently, threading your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. You feel him relax into your embrace. “I’m here for you, remember that. If you need me, I’ll be right there. And if you need me to kick anyone’s ass, I can do that too.” He chuckles at that and you smile at the sound. “I’m also pretty good at blackmail if that’s the route you want to take,” you continue and Bradley pulls you close, swinging you off the ground as you squeal, tightening your grip around his neck. “Bradley!” You yelp as he chuckles, easing your head back to look at him. There’s still uncertainty swimming in his eyes but you can tell that the smile on his face is genuine.

“And if I want to burn it all down to the ground?” He whispers, his voice a low rumble.

“Then I’ll bring the matches,” you assure him and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips that he returns. A banging at the door makes you both jump.

“Hurry up, lovebirds, we’re going to be late!” Javy’s voice calls from the hallway and you scowl at the door as Bradley growls. He reluctantly places you back down and excuses himself to the bathroom to change into gym clothes for practice while you touch up your makeup in the full-length mirror.

When he comes back, you can feel his eyes on you, watching as he ties his shoes. You turn to him, fidgeting with your hands slightly. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful,” he says before you can even finish the sentence. “You always do.” He reassures you and you feel your cheeks warm at the compliments.

“Anything I should know about the Flyer’s PR rep?” You ask as you collect the things you’ll need for the rest of the day. He shakes his head.

“Maria’s nice, you shouldn’t have any problems with her.” You’ve spoken with her before, of course, when negotiating Bradley’s trade but that was before you knew Bradley and how his team had stabbed him in the back. You’re nervous about the next few days, to say the least. Bradley’s clearly on edge and you can tell that Mav and Dare are too which isn’t helping things at all. This city holds painful memories for all three of them and you can only hope that they can escape without adding more wounds to their tally. “Shall we go?” Bradley asks then and you nod, slipping your hand into his as the two of you make your way out.

***

“BRADSHAW!” An elated voice calls out as the Dogfighters enter the rink. They’d gotten situated in the visiting locker room and suited up for practice. The Flyer’s PR rep had been called out of the office on a last-minute errand so you’re observing practice until she returns. One of the Flyer’s players is waving excitedly from the ice. You watch the man skate over, leaning over the boards so far he almost topples over and throwing his arms around Bradley. Shaggy dirty blonde hair pokes out from under his helmet and frames an angular face that’s stretched into a huge grin. “Welcome home, brother!” He’s missing a tooth and it makes him look even more boyish, causing you to smile.

To your surprise, Bradley returns the enthusiastic embrace, hugging the man close before pulling back to examine him. “Lucas, good to see you.” He’s smiling in a way that you’ve only ever seen him do around you and even then it’s been rare. You feel your smile tug wider as Lucas looks him over.

“You look like you’ve aged ten years, man, sure you didn’t retire to Florida instead of San Diego?” Bradley rolls his eyes and shoves Lucas’s shoulder in a gesture that you can tell is riddled with affection. Javy howls a laugh at that and pushes himself in between the two to introduce himself to Lucas. Dare decides to get along with practice then, and Lucas skates off back to his team.

***

After spending a long afternoon with Maria, setting things up for the game tomorrow, you’re looking for Bradley. You know better than to barge into the locker room, so you’re waiting outside when Javy comes out. He grins at you before nodding back up the tunnel towards the rink. “Loverboy is still out there. Quite the little social butterfly, who would have thought?” He smirks and you roll your eyes, thanking him and hurrying up the tunnel.

Bradley’s sitting on the bench, a couple of Flyer’s players either leaving up against the boards or sitting beside him in various states of sweaty disarray. They’ve discarded their helmets and gloves and their hair is plastered to their foreheads with sweat from the hours of practice. You smile at the scene as Bradley chats with the guys until Lucas notices you standing there and smiles, nodding in your direction. “Hey Bradshaw, I think there’s someone looking for you.” Bradley turns at that and smiles as he takes you in and you smile back shyly, he waves you over and you push through the tiny door that leads to the bench.

“Hey Honey, how was your day?” He asks and you balk at the casual term of endearment he’s tossing out in front of his old teammates. You’re instantly shy and he reaches out a hand to you that you take, trying to ignore the fact that every one of the other guys’ eyes is on you as Bradley scoots over to make room for you to sit next to him on the bench. He kicks at the guy next to him. “Scoot, Torp,” and the dark-haired man rolls his eyes before scooting over so there’s room for you to sit down.

“Who’s this beaut?” Lucas asks and you can hear the humor in his voice as your cheeks heat.

“Guys this is my girlfriend, Zam.” He introduces you and you give a shy wave. “She’s our PR rep.”

Lucas whistles at that, “Damn Bradshaw, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you.” He grins at you then, holding out a hand to you. “Lucas Bailey, nice to meet you Zam, that’s an interesting name.”

“Oh, it’s a nickname, short for Zamboni.” You explain, embarrassed and you feel the man to your left shift in surprise.

“Zamboni? Did you go to the University of Wisconsin?” You turn to face the man, surprised. He’s got short black hair and piercing gray eyes dancing with curiosity. You nod, confused as his eyes widen.

“No way! One of my buddies from back when I played in Toronto used to talk about you all the time. He said you saved one of his friends’ careers, he was super grateful for what you did. Neil Jackson, you know him?”

“You know Jacks?” You ask, surprised as he nods enthusiastically.

“Man would sing your praises from dawn to dusk.”

“Well, how about that, small world,” Lucas remarks with a grin. “What’d you do for him?” He asks and you sigh. You remember Neil Jackson plenty.

“Jacks was one of my best friend’s teammates. I used to hang out with the hockey team a lot because of him and so I got to know the whole team pretty well. My friend, Mickey, who plays for the Dogfighters now actually, got into it with a rival team’s player and the guy didn’t take it well. He tried to frame Mickey for drug possession and use.” Bradley stiffens next to you. “I wasn’t in the best place mentally at the time…” You hesitate, shaking your head before you can get lost in your own thoughts, “but I couldn’t watch him lose everything that he had worked for so I got involved, found a way to prove it was the other player. It was a whole mess but Mickey got off clean and the other guy got off with a slap on the wrist.” You clench a fist tightly in your lap. “It’s actually what got me interested in PR, and it’s the reason I have this job.” You shrug, trying to downplay it and alleviate the now-tense atmosphere. “How’s Jacks doing?” You smile at the dark-haired man who’s studying you carefully.

He nods slowly, “He’s good. He’ll be over the moon to hear you’re doing well.” He smiles then, holding out a hand to you, “Alex Torp.” You smile back and shake his hand.

“So I know we’re all trying to be nice and all, but what on earth are you doing dating this old man, Zam?” The guy on the other side of Bradley says with a grin at the two of you and Bradley jostles his shoulder with a look of faux irritation mixed with fondness. He’s the youngest of the group and his white-blonde hair is sticking up in every direction from his helmet. His features are boyish and they match the grin spread across his face that lets you know he’s just teasing.

You shrug, a soft smile gracing your features as you bump Bradley’s shoulder gently. “Someone’s got to look out for him, and he’s not too bad at looking after me too.” You reach for Bradley’s hand then, feeling braver and lacing your fingers with his. He squeezes your hand and smiles back at you. The blonde man gags at that and you laugh.

“Whenever you get tired of the vintage model, you can always give me a call,” he says without an ounce of seriousness in his voice. “I’m Wyatt, Wyatt Eaton.”

“Not a chance in hell, Wyatt.” Bradley cuts in, frowning at him and Wyatt just shrugs.

“Fine, but I’m just as excited to get a mom,” he says and Lucas howls at that as Alex snorts. You blink surprised as Bradley groans.

“Wy, cut it out, I’m serious.” Wyatt just grins.

“Mom, you’re definitely joining us for dinner, right?” Your cheeks heat in embarrassment as Alex joins Lucas laughing as Bradley lunges at Wyatt and he scrambles up to his feet, backing up from the much-larger defenseman. He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, hey, ease up Dad, save it for the ice tomorrow.” He grins over Bradley's shoulder at you.

“Bradley,” you say firmly, suddenly concerned that Bradley might actually smack the younger man. He doesn’t however, swinging an arm around his neck in a loose headlock, ruffling his hair roughly.

“You better show your mom some respect.” He admonishes him and Wyatt grins as Bradley grins back as your jaw drops. He releases Wyatt who plops down next to you where Bradley had been sitting.

“He’s not actually my dad,” he unnecessarily reassures you. When I joined the team, I lived with him because I was straight out of college and had no idea what the fuck I was doing. He showed me the ropes and raised me in a way, so I call him Dad.” Your heart warms at that and you see a piece of the Bradley that you know now.

“Well,” you straighten up, squaring your shoulders before fixing him with your most intimidating glare. “You heard your dad, you better show me some respect.” You stick your chin out a little for dramatic effect and Wyatt gapes at you before grinning.

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you fight to keep the firm look on your face.

“Okay, all you sweaty boys need to get cleaned up or else dinner is off the table” and the boys crowd past you heading for the locker rooms, Bradley hanging back to place a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“You handled them pretty well,” he praises and you shrug.

“Handling idiot hockey boys is my job,” you remind him and he chuckles.

“And you’re damn good at it too.” You smile at the compliment before he excuses himself to go get cleaned up.

***

After getting cleaned up, the Dogfighters headed back to the hotel. You showered and changed into more casual clothes that you’d remembered to bring this time. Now you’re walking hand and hand with Bradley through Franklin Square, wrapped in the coat he bought you back in D.C. It’s chilly in the early December air as the sun sinks below the horizon and you stay close to him. He’s been showing you all around the city where he spent the last twelve tears and you can tell how much he loves it. It shows in the way he talks about the restaurants that he tells you about, describing the good food, and the way Wyatt got them all permanently banned from one of them. He shows you the apartments he lived in when he first moved to the city and even takes you out to the suburbs to show you the house he spent most of his time in. After his third year in Philly, he’d felt the urge to put down roots so he’d bought the house and that’s where Wyatt had eventually moved into the guest bedroom and made the place a home that at least one or two other teammates, usually Lucas and Alex, would be hanging around.

“It’s always made me feel closer to him,” Bradley explains as the two of you pause in front of the fountain that’s actually turned on today, not quite cold enough to worry about the water freezing in midair. “My dad, I mean. This was the last place he lived, the last team he played for.” You nod, squeezing his hand gently. “Have you ever been to Yale? To see the places she used to go?” He asks. Once the question would have sent you spinning off your axis but now you just shake your head.

“She never took me, I think maybe she was afraid of running into Cyclone. Or maybe she just wanted that part of her life to remain just the way she always told me about them, like a fairytale. Too good to be true.” He nods, quietly. “Are you okay?” You ask after a long beat. “Is this too much for you?” He shakes his head.

“I thought it would be, you know? That I’d miss it more, but I don’t think I do, not anymore.”

“Why not?” You ask, tentatively.

“You,” he says and his raw honesty takes your breath away. “This isn’t home anymore, because it doesn’t have you, San Diego does.” You feel tears well up behind your eyes and you squeeze his hand tightly, three words on your tongue that you’re desperate to let break free.

“Bradley,” your voice breaks on his name and he pulls you close.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your hair and you can hear the emotion laced in the words. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

“Thank you for being my home,” you whisper back and when his arms tighten, pulling you even closer, you want nothing more than to skip dinner and take him back to the hotel, to never have to leave the safety and security that his arms bring you and you can tell he’s feeling similarly.

“We could skip dinner,” he suggests and you roll your eyes, the suggestion sounding ridiculous now that he’s the one saying it.

“And miss out on hearing all the embarrassing stories I’ve been looking forward to all evening? Not a chance.” You giggle as he scowls when you pull away enough to study his face. His expression softens as he takes in the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and he leans forward to kiss away your tears until you’re smiling against him.

“Honey?” he asks when he’s finished and simply leaning against your forehead, relishing the closeness and you hum your answer. “Can I kiss you?” Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to see the waves of emotions in his brown ones and you nod, unable to deny him such a simple request when you want this as badly as he does.

“Please,” the words have barely passed your lips when he leans forward and connects his lips to yours, the kiss sweet yet deep and full of all the unspoken words between the two of you.” You’re not sure how long the two of you stay that way, simply enjoying each other’s company until a text from Lucas asking what time you’re all meeting and Bradley pulls away from you begrudgingly leading you out of the park off towards the pizza place the other boys had selected for dinner.

***

You let out another laugh, tears tracking down your cheeks as Bradley rolls his eyes for the thousandth time as Wyatt regales you with yet another story from his time as Bradley’s roommate. You’re warm and full of pizza, leaning comfortably against Bradley in the round booth with Lucas on your other side. You’re glad you’d insisted on not ditching your dinner plans because you’d loved every second of this. You’re seeing a side of Bradley that you’d never seen before and it’s so special. Here he wasn’t a lone wolf who kept to himself but rather poked fun at his friends of over a decade, teasing and comfortable in their presence. It makes your heart ache at what he’s lost but gives you hope for what could be once he gets more comfortable with the Dogfighters. You’re also immensely thankful that he’s willing to share this part of his life with you. He trusts you, and you trust him, even more so after your conversation in the park. You can see a future with him, you realize, and slowly, but surely, it brings you more comfort than fear.

[pineappleparfaitie]

If i make another post responding t this person im gonna fall off a microwave so to just hopefully like

Idk end this

No reading under for this,full shit is here

• DM someone whe you have problems with them. Put your discomforts aside especially when thr claim of children being hurt is on the table. Something they said about someone labeling them a groomer aka turning someone into red paste is no excuse to make a callout. Imagime how uncomfortable EVERYONE IS. suck it up. Talk to them. And if they refuse or play stuff down THEN call it out. Red paste isnt the same as ripping someones limbs off

•dont say youre innocent when you know youre not. HEY SFW COMMUNITY LISTEN UP. YOU PEOPLE ARE PLAYING THIS DOWN. Not all of you but ik a LOT OF YOU LOVE TO COMPLAIN THAT A NSFW /PORN BLOG DIDINT READ UR BIO,TAGS,PINNED ECT!!(NOT JUST TAGS) . You are being exosed into nsfw spaces and seeing nsfe content in both instances. This is not aimed at the minors. Its at the adults. Hey evryone over 20 . Not fresh 18 year olds if you can almost drink listen up. If you want to interact with kids in this community ,have friends who are minors and have mostly minors in your audience YOU HAVE TO LOOK AT WHAT YOU POST. YOU ARE NO ONES PARENT BUT AS SOMEONE WHO HAS A FOLLOWING YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL.

•Calling someone an idiot,stupid ect is not ableism. If someone is caling your actioms stupid thats not ableist. If they use the r slur to you and know youre disabled , invisble or visible - THAT IS ABLEISM!! Stop saying commonly used phrases are ableism ,no one is targeting your disability they are targtting your actions. If your disability made you sct poorly, its not an excuse its an explanation.

Minors were put in danger and some may not even realise it. However such apoorly handled situation has possibly led to the influx of anon hate asks.

So if they werent in danger bfore minors are in ager now from harassment.

The nsfw blogs we interavted with as a result of us interacting eit rebloged posts can now use amo against this community. Its already happened.

Adults of this community, you may not like it but you need to look out for the younger memebers especially ones who follow and interact eit you. Its the same for every content creator with a young fanbase. You are no different.

HECK IM NOT EITHER!But the difference is you are adults. Know better.

Either pay attention, or make yourself MDNI and make your blog SFW and go with that crowd.

[otomiyaa]

Re: Tumblr account termination

So, after a few months since the blog wipe, I can confirm the following pros and cons about losing and restarting a Tumblr blog.

Note: weighing in that my memory is not good / pretty bad.

Pros:

Easy to detect whether I already reblogged something before, since I need to only look for dates after Oct 24, 2023.

Fresh start, definitely feels good.

All cringy old posts from younger and less mature me are gone with zero effort.

Cons:

DMs and all chat history gone. Who was I talking with? What was the last thing we talked about? If since my account loss we no longer talk because of this, I'm sorry for that.

Block list gone and forgot who were on it, but can be a pro as well.. fresh new start.

All fics and posts that had a :readmore: cut from the older editor and were reblogged can no longer be seen fully.

Posts that were not reblogged by anyone are just gone, rip.

My comments, reblogs and asks vanished from everyone's blogs and inboxes as if I never existed. If I ever gushed about your fic or fanart in reblogs and my comments are gone - I'm slowly redoing it all, but it takes a while hah.

I'm still immature and cringe.. but at least I start again from scratch.

Conclusion: Not ideal, could be worse. Have a great day y'all!