#he might have also spit up a little blood oops

[apoptoses]

why is my response to extreme stress always to write medical kink in which daniel gets pushed to his limits

[ja3hwa]

Take Turns | Ot8 Ateez

「Synopsis」 : Part 2 of Whose First. Where you finally get to see who you picked to have first...

「Word count」 :  5.4k

-> Genre: Smut, Mafia Au, Poly Au

Paring: Ot8 Ateez x Fem!Reader

[Warnings] : Wall sex, mentions of blood, lots of pet names. Penetrated sex, unprotected sex [Don't do this!] Daddy kink. Multiple orgasms, heavy subspace. Some trauma issues. The reader is secretly a simp for the boys. Soft Dom Hongjoong. Rough Seonghwa. Monster cock, Mingi and Yunho. Sir Kink. Double penetration. Anal A lot of dirty talk. [Mingi and Yunho got a real filthy mouth] squirting. Cumming inside [don't do that] Aftercare. Wooyoung is a cheeky thing. Oral [M Receiving]. Wooyoung might be slightly high but who's asking. [HEHE] Spanking, cum eating, jerking off. Threesomes [Obviously] description of cum and bodily fluids. Spit play [Sorry not sorry]. Reader calls sex playtime. Dom and Sub dynamic. Squirting, shower sex, nipple play, fingering, hickeys, Some MxM, choking [I'm not even sorry for that] name calling [Slut, oop] lazy make out, cock warming cause I'm a sucker for it. And if I missed something let me know, other than that enjoy my Darlings!! 

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! Weeks working on this and I can finally say I'm ready. I worked super hard on this to try and make all the suggestions I got fit! This is the most filthiest thing I've ever written so god look away. Enjoy! ♡ ALSO ITS 3AM AND I HAVEN'T PROF READ IT SO IF THERE IS ANY MISTAKES IGNORE THEM! Thank you...

Tears stained your red hot cheeks. Your nails digging into the back of your lover as yours was pressed against one of the cold walls in the meeting room. His cock so deep inside you, you couldn't hear anything else other then the slapping sounds of skin and his groans ringing in your ears.

"Seong!!" You moaned his name, drawing blood from your nails. His thrusts getting sloppy as he chased his high. Your head was so fuzzy and light, it left like you floating.

"Come on Bunny make a mess on my cock." He bites your earlobe making you squeal, tightening around him before coming undone. He removed you from the wall, still inside of you as he walked over to the large, long table. Placing you down on the cold wood, he thrusted in an inhuman speed finally finishing himself off inside you. The others watching intensely as Seonghwa's cum leaked out of you, dripping onto the floor. You layed panting with half lids.

"Our turn." You faintly hear a deep voice come closer towards you before another higher pitch on chuckling. "Don't break her before we get our turn."

You knew it was Wooyoung whining and as a large hand rubbed your calf's with so much care you knew the deep voice had to belong to Mingi. His hands moved up your body before holding the back of your neck, lifting your frame up.

"Hey Little one." He kissed your forehead nuzzling his nose in your hair, holding you close for a moment. "Colour." He always asks this, even if you could be having the time of your life in these situations. He seems to need to know the colour more than you.

"Green Sir. Green" You whisper, wrapping your hands around his bare waist, hugging him. You suddenly felt another pair of hands snake their way on your thighs from behind Mingi. You look up to see beautiful eyes that belonged to Yunho.

"Who you want in the front this time Tiny." And just like Mingi always asking about a colour, Yunho also seemed to ask this question, well after all it's their favourite position to do with you. You were unsure who to pick, mind still hazy. All you wanted was them, not caring about the details.

"I-I don't know...I want both of you." You small whimpers caught Hongjoong's attention. Normally in a group activity you are very much aware of yourself and what's around you. But for some reason tonight you fell into your sub space. Something you never do. The only time you are in sub space is with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. None of the others ever having that effect on you.

"Hey Angel. Where are we?" Hongjoong tugged Yunho by his dress shirt slightly, making both of the boys move out of the was for him. It's not that the others didn't know about your subbiness towards the two eldest but this was a new experience for all of you, so Hongjoong wanted to make sure you were absolutely okay first.

"We are..I...I don't know." What Hongjoong feared was happening. You were definitely not use to being in your space while outside the bedroom. He briefly explained to the others you can become like this in the past but seeing it happen, it was a new experience. "You are in Daddy's meeting room and you are going to play with your Sir's. Are you okay with that angel?"

"Yes... Please." You gave him the biggest doe eye your could muster tugging on his shirt with desperation. Hongjoong just giggled at your expression, moving away for the two giants to sandwich your body between them.

"Looks like I'll be in front tonight little one. Now hold on tight." Yunho and Mingi took it upon themselves to decide what the position was going to be. Yunho gripping the under of your thighs to hold you up in the air from behind while Mingi slotted himself in between your open legs. Your hands tangled in Mingi hair, pulling his body closer to yours. Your whimper echoed in the room as your tummy tingled in anticipation. You felt Yunho and Mingi's cocks slide along your lower half, making you moan out a strangled 'P-Please' over and over. A cold sensation lapped around your ass, making your shiver before some of it cold liquid slipped inside. You whimpered at the uncomfortable feeling but as time goes on the slight pain turned into pleasure.

"You are good for us Tiny. So beautiful, so―" Yunho slipped in your tight ass, feeling you squeeze him immediately. Mingi sank deep inside your pussy almost straight after, making your brain short circuit at the overwhelming feeling. They took a moment for you to get use to them but when your hips started to rut, they got the non-verbal response to go.

"Fuck you're so tight. Such a good baby for letting your Sir's stuff you full." Mingi growls holding your hips while Yunho keeps his strong grip on your under-thighs, making you completely rely on them keeping you up in the air.

"You like being fucked in front of everyone? Hmm? Want everyone to see how to take us so well?" Yunho's words making you choke out a wet whimper. You couldn't form any response with than cries and moans for them do not stop, which they were definitely not going to do. The tingle grew, and a tightness rumbled in your chest. You wanted, no, needed to cum and the pleading hooded eyes you gave Mingi and the way you squeezed them made then both know you were close. The two pick up the pace, chasing their own highs as well.

"S-Sir...So f-full aargh." You cry, leaning back into Yunho's chest, leaning on his shoulder so your mouth could latch onto his hot skin, biting a harsh mark on his neck. "Oh, mmy f-f―" your whimpers pool out through your clamped teeth. With one hard thrust from both males, you feel the knot in you stomach unwind and break, liquid rushing out of you. The boys both came along side you, slowing their thrusts until the high slowed down.

You cringed slightly at the feeling of them pulling out. Your body becoming overwhelmed with sensations and your mind still hazed with glossed over eyes. You felt Yunho's hands let go of your inner thighs as Mingi's hand that held your hip, moved to hold you up but your legs still dangle. He slowly lets your feet touch the cold floor, making you hum at the cooling sensation. You try to stand but your legs have become the same texture of jello, wobbling as you fell towards Mingi's broad chest. He just chuckled, slowly helping you walk toward your devilish boyfriend that sits with his legs spread on one of the big meeting chairs.

"Come here Princess. Rest for a little on my lap." San's words made you feel warm and fuzzy. Taking perch on his lap, draping your legs on either side of his. San's hand traced random shapes in your back as you breath slowly through your mouth. One thing you obsesses over when it comes to your lovers is San's ability to always give such soothing comfort and aftercare. Even if he wasn't the one to have sex with you, he would always cuddle and make sure you were okay. It wasn't that the others didn't provide aftercare, don't get them wrong, they love the idea of cuddles and check ups. But San likes to hog the affection.

"Here, drink this baby." He hands you a bottle of water that Seonghwa had went and fetched. Mingi and Yunho are now no where to be scene, most likely gone upstairs to shower and have some more fun with one another since those two are known for being able to go longer than one round. You swear they have the stamina of super soldiers. As you drank the water you finally took in your surroundings, noting you were in the meeting room. Your gloss and haze fading, feeling the cool air create goosebumps on your bare skin. You see Wooyoung sitting on the table next to you and San with a sly smirk on his lips. Yeosang and Jongho are across the room, looking at something front of them, most likely paper work while they wait for their turn. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were also next to them, fully dressed as if Hwa wasn't pounding you moments ago.

"Sannie, Woo." You felt you brain finally clear, breathing fresh air for the first time for the night.

"Hey there, Princess. Welcome to the party." His smirk paints his face perfectly, making the tingle in your tummy erupt again. "Wanna play?" He asks you softly, even if he and Woo are desperate to feel you and became hot from the show Mingi and Yunho put on. They would never do something you didn't want to do. You nodded in response making Wooyoung jump off the table in excitement.

"This calls for the carpet." Wooyoung walked over to the large door that connected the meeting room to a small room, lounging area. The room was originally Hongjoong's office but it's now just sits empty, with left over furniture and filing cabinets. And a soft fluffy black carpet that sits in the middle of the room. San carried you in his arms as you watch Wooyoung strip his jacket, tie and blouse while he walked. The others caught notice of what the two had planned, Yeosang whispering something to Hongjoong with a smirk but you were unable to hear it.

"Come on Doll, let's fun some fun." Wooyoung giggled falling onto the soft carpet, rubbing it through his fingers, his sensitivity enjoying the texture. San places you down next to Wooyoung before starting to strip himself. Wooyoung took this time to grab your waist, pulling you on top of him so he could lock his lips on yours. You straddle his bare hips, grinding down on his cock while his tongue slips inside your mouth. He has to gasp within the kiss as he speaks, "Have I ever told you, you taste like fresh strawberries, like all the time."

His words made you giggle, not knowing about this little detail about yourself in Wooyoung's point of you. Before you could even think about responding though, two hands snake around your waist, pulling the top half of your body up to a sitting position as another pair of lips slot on you.

"Sharing―Kiss―Is―Kiss―Caring"

"Awee Come one Sannie, don't hog." Wooyoung bucks his hips up, grinding up against your core making you gasp through San's hot and heavy kiss. Wooyoung let his tip slip against your hole, trying his best to sink inside but unless you sat up it was useless. So he whined, high pitched and needy.

"Come on Princess, ride Wooyoung's cock would you. He seems so eager to feel you." You give San one more peak before you rotated around so you sat backwards on Wooyoung and your back was on display for him. His finger tips glide along your spine before landing a smack on your ass. You lean forward towards San that now sat himself in front of you and Wooyoung. Your position finally gave Wooyoung what he needs. Finally feeling you around him. God he swears if he wasn't mentally wanting to see what you would do, he would of came right the moment he felt your soft velvet walls around his cock.

"Fuck." He swears, letting his hands fall back to the carpet, clinging to it as he watches you with half open eye lids, sink up and down on him. Your pace made him squirm, moving his hips along with your own. You couldn't help but moan leaning on your hands to keep yourself up. San tucks a piece of hair behind your ear watching you with amusement. Your mouth hung opened, staring at him with glossed eyes. He could tell you were waiting for him to give you the word, the green light to help him, but man did he enjoy watching you look desperate for him. Desperate to please.

"Well go ahead Princess. Takes what's yours." He spread his legs wider for you, letting his cock lean against his abs. You took a hold of his shaft in seconds, mouth meeting with his tip. He had to fight the urge to thrust into your mouth, instead he grabbed a fist full of your hair to make a makeshift ponytail. You breathed heavily through your nose, trying to concentrate on riding Wooyoung but being so full from both ends made it near impossible.

"Fuck, argh. Fuck. Please I'm aargh." Wooyoung become a whimpering mess, getting closer and closer to his release. San lent his head back, gasping for air, starting to thrust into your mouth making your gag. Spit drooling, eyes watering, and heavy panting. All three of you drew closer to your highs, pace picking up harsher and faster. Wooyoung was the first to cum, spilling into your tight hole, while you came with him. Your release mixing together. San pulled out of your mouth jerking himself off in front of you getting ready with your beautiful tongue as you flatten it out for him to cum in your mouth. Some spilling on your chin and chest. Your legs and arms gave out, falling flat on the plush carpet, feeling your body begin to shut down. You have lost count on how many orgasms you've experienced but your thoughts did wonder if all your lovers have mentally decided to go for a new record or not.

"God you are always so messy San." You hear a faint deep voice, feeling a cool hand run up your back making your shiver. "You think you'd at least clean up." He chuckles, squatting down to lift some of your hair out of your face. Your hazy eyes pull open to look up at your lover, Jongho. His smirk was wide and sadistic."Or you could just aim properly." You knew he was referencing the way San was messy with his orgasm, dripping it down your chin and chest. Jongho's fingers ran along your face, picking up some of the cum, before pressing them against your lips. "Suck." His deep velvet voice makes you clench around nothing, placing your lips around his thick fingers. You could taste San mixing on your tongue making your whimper for more, even though some may ways you've had more than enough. But then again you could never be satisfied, always needing one of them. To hold you, kiss you, touch you. Fuck you.

"God she just keeps going." Yeosang chuckled taking a seat down on the couch next to San, in front of where you now sat on your knees for Jongho. Your stare at Yeosang with doe eyes, wanting to know what they might have planned for you. Jongho pulled his fingers out, your saliva still connected from tip to tongue. He couldn't help but groan watching the saliva drip down your face, gripping your chin with enough strength that he could pull your face right up to his.

"Open up Honey. Let me have my fun." He dark voice sent tingles down your spine. Opening your mouth wide, flattening your tongue out for him. He chuckles spitting straight into your mouth making your shiver with a whine. He tilted his head licking his lips. He knew you were waiting for his command, for his word. But he needed to watch you wiggle in anticipation first. "Swallow." And so you did, closing your mouth.

"See San, you can still have fun without having to be so messy."

"Yeah, Yeah, you've proven your point." San groaned finally standing up to button his pants. "But..." He pulled your body up, so you are standing on your wobbly legs. "I know our baby likes it messy sometimes." He gave your one last peck before carefully throwing you onto Yeosang, legs falling on each side of his thighs.

"Well Hello there Darling." Yeosang kisses your cheek, rubbing your back softly. "Care to take me for a spin?" You gave him a small nod, kissing his neck while grinding yourself on his covered crotch. He hands gripped your hips, helping your small movements. The others around you watched carefully as they see how desperate you are with Yeosang. Hongjoong had to chuckle thinking about how this might be the first time you'll be able to take all of them in one night without resting. Normally in events that one of the boys are horny, they would either have one of their lovers to help or tease you into having some imitate time with them. You've tried to take them all in one night before, having gone over rules about safe words and even though you never had to use the said safe word. You have asked to stop 'play time' given it has gotten a little too much. But tonight you seemed determined.

"Y-Yeo." You choked humping his covered leg. Yeosang brushed over the thought of teasing you, but given you've been so good tonight he unbuckled his pants swiftly.

"You are such a good baby. My Darling. My love." He pulled his cock out tugging himself while staring deep into our eyes. He held your hips up, so he could angle himself at your entrance. He didn't even get to ask if you were ready before you sank down on him hard. His air escaped out of his lungs, moaning your name aloud. His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flushed against his chest. The fabric of suit scratched against your skin making a burning sensation erupt on the surface. But you couldn't care less at the uncomfortable feeling, sensing your body going into over drive at Yeosang's cock pumping in and out at an monstrous pace.

"YEOSANG!!!" You couldn't help my claw at his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He was hitting the right stops at the right time.

"Come on Darling, be a good baby and cum. Put a show on for all of us." And it was like Yeosang's word were exactly what you needed as you high snapped, making you cry out. But something was different this time.

"Fuck well look at that." You could hear Jongho's voice faintly through the fuzzy buzzing in your ears. "She fucking squirted."

"Good Job Darling." Yeosang whispers in your ears, kissing along your temple. Your juices soaked Yeosang's work suit but he couldn't care less, he is more impressed that he was the one to get you to squirt tonight. Since it was usually Yunho or Seonghwa that had that magic touch on you.

"I think Hwa and Yun have some competition." Hongjoong chuckles, picking up a stray hair that fell in front of your face before tucking it behind your ear. You smiled weakly at him, content with just laying on Yeosang for a moment. But that moment fell short as Jongho comes to snake his arms around your waist pulling you up to stand on your almost useless legs. They wobble as you tried your best to stand, but without Jongho's board shoulder you would most certainly fall.

"Come on let's go upstairs. I think a hot shower will make you feel better." His voice was soft unlike how he spoke prior.

"But wh-what about you..." You look at him with doe eyes before looking over at Hongjoong "or you?" You felt guilt bubble inside, you were determined to have all of them but they are the ones now saying no? Did you do something wrong? Before your mind could begin to over think Joong stepped forward rubbing his palm on your cheek.

"Oh don't worry Angel, we have something special planned."

And just like that, you were being carried upstairs in Jongho's arms. He placed you so carefully on the bathroom counter as he gave you one last lingering but passionate kiss before walking for the door. You called for him to ask why he was going to leave, but all you got in return was a small smile with a wink before he retreats outside. The sound of the shower caught your attention, making you look over to see Hongjoong running his hands under the water, testing the temperature.

"You ready to hop in my love?" His voice was barely under a whisper, only just being able to hear him over the shower. You nodded grabbing his hand so you could carefully get off the counter. He leads you into the shower, letting your back hit the warm water. His eyes never left yours, watching you slowly relax, the knots in your body finally unwind. He had no intention in doing anything mischievous, well not right now anyways. He wanted to just be with you, hold you. Wash the day away and make sure you were safe. Their lives were filled with brutality and violence, so coming home to see you so ready to please them, and love them even if they had so much blood on their hands. All the boys loved you so much, and wanted nothing but to worship the ground you walked on. All they wanted to do was―

"What are you thinking about my love?" You voice woke him from his trance, his hand suddenly stopping from brushing your soft skin. The soap running down your flesh, washing off to the drain. He looked down to you, seeing you smile. Your eyes sparkling. God, he was so in love. Hongjoong didn't answer you straight away, instead he kissed you, softly, slowly first.

"I was thinking about how beautiful you are. How you did amazing tonight." He gave you another small kiss, "How you are always trying to look after us when we should be the ones to look after you." and another quick kiss. "How, no matter how bad any of our days get, you are always there to make us feel better."

He finally gave you a long, deep, passionate kiss. Pulling your body flush against his own as his hands snaked to grip your bare ass. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You had to try not slip and luckily Hongjoong caught onto your worry, grabbing a hold of your waist and slowly moving you towards the shower wall. He trails his mouth down your wet neck, brushing some of your hair away so he could lap over the past wounds his other lovers had inflicted on you. He sucked over the purple mark, making them a harsher redish colour.

"You did so well today Angel. But I got one last surprise for you, if you are up for it." His voice tickles your ear lob as his hand ran down your tummy until it lays right above where you want him.

"Yes Joongie. Please. I want it." You plea made him chuckle, whistling a quick tune, suddenly making you confused. But then you heard the lock of the door click, it made you aware you were no longer alone with Hongjoong.

"Is there room for one more?" Seonghwa's mellow voice cooed above the sound of the shower making your heart rate pick up. Even though you have been naked in front of Seong before, his stare always made you feel so exposed every time he looked at you. His smirk painted his face beautifully as he entered the large shower behind Hongjoong. He gave his lover a peck on the shoulder, neck, jaw and finally his lips. You grew hot watching your lovers kiss each other, rubbing your thighs together. Seonghwa took notice, chuckling in the kiss making Hongjoong breakaway.

"I think our baby wants to join in." Hongjoong laughed staring you up and down.

"Bunny just wants what hers." He switched places with Hongjoong, retching for your waist, to situate himself next to you. His charming gaze could make anyone weak in the knees and as he kept his eyes locked on yours, you swore your legs would buckle at any moment. He ran his finger along your clit, making you gasp. You didn't even notice Seonghwa's hands, being too focused on his eyes instead. He placed slow pressure on your bud making you gulp with light pants. You rolled your hips against his hand, quickly losing yourself in pleasure.

"That's it Bunny, So good for Daddy." He replaced his fingers with the tip of his dick, rubbing along your slit, you closed your eyes leaving your mouth agape. You whimpered please over and over, again and again. But he wouldn't let you have what you needed.

"Oh as much as I would love to feel this pussy again. I think Joongie needs a taste." He pulled you off the wall, rotating you around so you are in between him and Hongjoong. Your back hit Seong's bare chest, his breath pooling on your neck. "Wouldn't you agree Bunny? You want daddy to fill you up with his cock?" You stare at Hongjoong with pleading eyes, nodding before whimpering;

"Yes, please. Please." Seonghwa's hands snaked down your waist, and hips, moving slowly towards your thighs. He taps the flesh making you understand the silent command. First lifting up your left leg, then pushing up to place the other in Seonghwa's tight hold, he held them spread in the air for Hongjoong to have the best view of you.

"Fuck look what we have here." Hongjoong's chuckle makes your skin crawl in the best way possible, you lean against Hwa's shoulder, your breath tickling his neck. His fingers dig into the soft fat of your thigh, letting Hongjoong slip between them. Joong, wasted no time to line himself up with your entrance, thrusting into you with one deep, swift movement.

"D-daddy." You moan at the sensation, biting Seonghwa's neck to stop yourself from making so much noise as the bathroom tends to echo the sound of your voice. Hongjoong's hand landed on the wall, either side of you and Hwa, sinking inside of your dripping mess with such speed it almost winded you.

Hwa just relaxed himself, enjoying the show he was witnessing. Dropping one your legs, Hongjoong takes it from him without worry, continuing his assault with no thought of stopping. Seong's hand glided up your body, stopping at your chest to play with your nipples for a little bit before he placed his palm securely around your throat.

"You're so good for us baby. Such a slut for us." He squeezes, drawing your breathing short. The fuzziness went straight to your brain as you felt like you were on cloud nine. Hongjoong's hips snapped, buckling slightly. You both knew he was close, and Hwa was determined to get you to come before his other lover.

"Baby, be a dear and hold our Bunny's other leg for me." Hongjoong listened instantly, switching the wall for your thigh. Seonghwa had now both free hands, keeping his left hand on your throat he drew his right to your clit, moving in fast circular motions making you scream what little air you had in your lungs left.

You came so hard that you felt like you could have fallen from your mini spasm if it wasn't for the two men holding you still. You left Hongjoong's load, painting your insides, spilling out while he pulled away. Your mind was so hazy you could barely hear the two praise you, knowing they were from their soft kissing. You all washed off, Seonghwa helping you out of the shower onto the soft bathmat. He dressed you into some underwear, and a large shirt. But the cologne on the shirt wasn't Hongjoong or Seonghwa's, it was—

"Come of bunny, let's get you to bed." You gave Hongjoong one last kiss to Joong before Seonghwa walked you to a bedroom. Not your bedroom though, it was Jongho's room to be exact.

"Good night my love." Seonghwa pecks your cheek, leaving you in front of the cracked open door. You opened the door fully seeing a sleepy-looking Jongho in only boxers. His smile was still painted on his face even though his eyes showed exhaustion.

"Hey, honey."

"Bear..." You didn't even say hello to him, instead, you closed the door and walked over to the bed, falling on top of of the soft comforter. He hummed at your actions sensing the ache of sleep taking over your body. So, he gripped at the covers pulling them down so you both can get under. You faced him, watching him with stalker-ish eyes, as he switched off all the lights and lamps, except for one that resided on your bedside table. He knew you didn't like the dark, and always requested to leave at least one lamp on which he would gladly do every time.

"You comfy there baby?" He had to chuckle lightly, seeing you so soft and comfortable. You wiggled into the plush black and sage green blankets, making his point proven. He joined you laying down so his face was inches from yours―your nose just touching one another―.

"You didn't join in tonight..." You didn't mean for your words to come out so blunt, but you became curious why he hasn't asked to have his turn yet. His expression didn't change from your words though, instead, he lent closer to you, pecking your cheek, pouring his passion out with a single kiss.

"Who says I wasn't going to join in?" Your ears perked at his deep sensual voice, while his fingers rested on your hips now hooked under your underwear straps. He snaps the band sending a small amount of pleasurable pain up your spine. His lips latch on your neck, licking a strip with his hot tongue. He lifted your―well his shirt―off your body, keeping you on your side. You watch him while still under the covers, slip his boxers down his legs, letting them fall out of the bed on the nearby floor. His lips catch yours, tongue slipping inside your mouth. You couldn't help but moan into the kiss, shuffling closer to him so you're both layed chest to chest.

"Keep me warm honey. Can you do that?" His hot breath tickled your lips as he went back to kissing you without an answer. Your whimpers were enough for him to know you were more than happy to comply. Giving you one last peck on the lips and then a small kiss on your nose, you rotated to put your back against his chest. You pulled your panties off a little too eagerly but who was caring at this point? His cock hit your hot pussy, and he groaned, having to remember he couldn't just fuck you into the sheets the minute he was inside. He needed patients but it was slowly warring thin.

"You are so good. I don't deserve you. None of us do." He whispers in your ear while he slips inside, his ball hitting you as he bottoms out. "I'm going to keep you nice and stuffed while you rest my love. And then I will wake you up the best way possible." he gives your neck a few kisses before groaning out;

"I'll fuck you awake so good that you'll be begging me to stop."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" You simply giggled, eyes already heavy as your breathing slowed. The feeling of fullness sends a fuzzy and warm feeling to your gut, making you feel loved and safe next to Jongho.

"It's a promise." He whispered.

-

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[thatgirlonstage]

mermay prompt: JamiKali + gold?

I'm not entirely happy with the way I ended this one but if I keep picking at it I will run out of time to work on other prompts so I'm calling it good. Keep an eye on the Ao3 collection next year, I might put a revised version up once I've had longer to sit on it. I really like the worldbuilding concept I'm playing with, anyway :3

(also I hope you see this, nonny — sorry for taking most of the month to get to it!!!)

———

Mermaids cry pearls and their scales are made of gold.

Those are the kinds of myths that Jamil grows up hearing, circulating in whispers through the bazaar, repeated like a dreamy incantation by traders in their cups, posted in hashtags below visibly photoshopped images of supposed beachside treasures.

“If only they knew, huh Jamil?” Kalim giggles by his side, letting silk run over his hands like water. When his fingers lift away, there’s an embroidered pattern of fish leaping along the edge of the headscarf, flashing in the sunlight. Kalim’s smile is brighter than the pure silver of the thread, a searing thing, white teeth a slash in his brown skin. “I don’t think these people even believe mermaids really exist.”

Jamil bites down hard on the urge to tell him to shut up. Drawing any attention will only make Kalim’s remarks seem significant to anyone who already overheard them. He bites down so hard that his lip splits. He tastes iron. Kalim, brow furrowing, reaches up and swipes a thumb over Jamil’s mouth.

When mermaid blood is spilled on sand, it turns into rubies.

“Are you all right?” Kalim asks, popping his bloodied thumb back out of his mouth. “You’ve been so quiet today.” He spits a shard of something glittering and red into his palm, considers it, and discards it on the ground. A moment later, Jamil hears a muffled exclamation from behind them. He does not look back. Looking back will only draw attention. People exclaim in bazaars all the time.

“It’s too hot,” he says by way of excuse. “It’s making me tired.”

Kalim pokes him in the shoulder, a friendly reproach. “You should have said! I would’ve come on my own. It’s only the groceries.”

“Last time I let you go on your own, you left an entire frieze of the legend of Sinbad carved over the entrance of the fish merchant’s stall.”

Mermaids have sea silk for hair. I bet if you plucked a mermaid’s eyelashes they’d be made of saffron.

Kalim laughs, the sound high and bright and as bubbly as a stream. “I forgot about that! The poor man was so confused.” He trails just the edge of his pinky finger along a piece of pottery, and the mosaic pattern gains a thin golden outline. “I’m sorry I make you worry, but it’s just that your magic is so abundant, I’m overflowing all the time.” He leans up and presses his lips to Jamil’s cheek. “Take a little back, okay? It’ll help me behave.”

When a mermaid kisses you, forever after, every time you speak, gems will fall from your lips.

Jamil feels his own magic surge backward into his skin, electricity racing up and down his spine. It sits there, crouching in his nerves, making every hair on the back of his neck stand up, locked in his blood. He inhales sharply and lets the breath hiss back out between his teeth.

“Warn me when you’re about to do that,” he says. “It’s not exactly comfortable.”

“Oops.” Kalim looks contrite. “Sorry, I gave you back a little more than I meant to!” He reaches as if to take some of it again, but Jamil jerks his head away.

“It’s fine.” The magic pulls at his tendons, crackling with unreleased potential. He grits his teeth against the scraping, scrabbling, screaming need for release, the way it hits a wall at every turn. Kalim is at least no longer quietly turning every pebble he steps on into sea glass.

“Your magic really is just that potent,” Kalim tells him, settling back into his place next to Jamil, grin diamond-white in the afternoon sun. “I can make anything you want, Jamil.” He slides his hand into Jamil’s, interlocking their fingers. “Just ask. Whenever you want anything, just ask and it’s all yours.”

Jamil hopes the smile he gives in return looks less forced than it feels. He can’t bring himself to speak, to tell Kalim the truth. He only breathes and lets himself imagine the contact of their palms makes his magic trickle back into Kalim a little faster, that the pounding desperation in his skull to let the magic out of his skin is a little lessened, that the tightness of his jaw is due to sun and stress and hours spent with Kalim as company, and not a curse weaving its prohibition into his tongue and teeth, stopping any spell from passing his lips.

If someone asked Jamil Viper to tell them a story about mermaids, this is what he would have said:

It’s true, mermaids can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.

But they can’t do it alone. They have to borrow your magic.

If you wish, you can promise them magic in return for jewels, for gold, for pearls, for anything your heart could desire.

So go to the river if you want, trail a finger in the water under the full moon, and send out a spark to let one of them know you want to talk.

But be careful.

Once you’ve made a pact with one it cannot be undone.

They will stay bound to your bloodline forever.

———

Mermay prompts are open until May 31st!

[thebluestbluewords]

more murder is good actually

sometimes all my brain needs to write more of Uma’s crew actually murdering their hostage is different music apparently??

*

"I c'n help," Ben slurs. His tongue is going all weird and large. It's like they pulled all the moisture in his mouth out with the gag, and now his tongue is trying to fill the void all on its lonesome. "I can get you off." 

Harry leers. "That's my job, princey. Hands off my captain." 

"Harry." 

He pulls back. "Aww, Uma--" 

"I told you to keep him alive." she says, low and dangerous and slightly blurry to Ben, who is very focused on breathing normally and trying to get spit back into his mouth. If he's going to talk his way out of this situation he needs to be able to actually talk, and not just mumble his words like he's a drunken pirate. 

Although, maybe she'd like that? 

"He's livin'! Breathin' and bleedin' n'all!" Harry cries, spreading his hands wide. 

He's got a hook clenched in one of them, Ben notices. It's sharp. Glistening. Not red and wet like his clothes, so probably not the one they stabbed him with. Do pirates keep a collection of hooks for stabbing, or is it just one per scallywag? He'll look that up later. If he makes it to later. He's gotta focus right now. Pirates. Bleeding. Cotton shoved in his mouth. 

Someone grabs the side of his face and shakes it. "LOOK AT HIM! He's droopier than a rotten potato! He wouldn't be bleeding at all if you hadn't stabbed him!" 

Diplomacy. Negotiations. He's got this. 

What comes out of his mouth instead is much less elegant. "Ow." 

Oops. 

Uma's grip on his cheek switches from shaking to cradling real quick. If Ben were in less pain right now, he might be interested in that. He's still very much gushing blood though, so the little rational part of his brain just files it away for later, when the much larger part that's focused on the ow fuck blood side of things is available again. 

Uma smiles down at him. Her teeth are very white and very, very sharp. She looks like Evie when she smiles, sharp and pretty and dangerous. "Little king! You're awake. How nice." 

"I can help," Ben repeats. His brain is not made of mushy oatmeal, he can do this. "I c'n-- can get you off. The barrier. I have a gate remote." 

Uma lifts a brow. "Do you? Harry?" 

Harry whips out the contents of Ben's pockets with a leering smile, and slaps a dark leather bundle into Uma's awaiting hand. "We didn'a take one off him. Took this though." 

She ruffles through his wallet with efficiency. It shouldn't be hot, but Ben's brain is maybe wired a little wrong, and also he's pretty lightheaded from the blood loss and easy to win over with the easy competence that so many of the kids on the Isle just ooze like water. 

Uma flicks her gaze down to him. "You brought three hundred dollars to the Isle of the Lost." 

"Do you need more?" 

"Do I need--" She laughs. "Do I need more? Money? Here. On the Isle of Leftovers. Do we need more money?" 

She spreads her arms wide, lets her shoulders shake with laughter. It makes the shiny pieces of her jacket dance and sparkle like the shiniest, shittiest disco ball Ben's ever seen. 

He sort of wants to kiss her, but that's probably the blood loss speaking. 

The crew joins her in laughing. There's more of them than Ben can see, but they're there, laughing right along with their captain, melting out of the shadows in a riot of purple and red and black clothes, scrappy and glistening to the teeth with swords and knives. And that's just the ones that Ben can see. 

He can hear one, two bodies moving in the rigging above his head. Laughing. 

It strikes him, belatedly, that he's probably going to die here. 

[eurydicees]

20? :)

uhhhh this one was a spotify wrapped prompt, um, last year. oops. anyways. i found this ask and started writing for it then i found this post by @osamusbigtits and then had to write about that. and long story short. have a fic.

tree rings & blood lines

summary: suna's sister comes to visit. they talk about the families they're born with, and the families they make. prompt: spotify wrapped #20, domestic bliss by glass animals; this post pairings: osamu miya/rintarou suna, suna & his sister words: 2375 warnings: child neglect, homophobia

When he was young, the first faces he looked for in the crowd after a game were his parents. Now, Suna barely thinks about them. Or, he thinks about them all of the time; he’s just given up expecting anything from them. Expecting them to show up. A younger him had been disappointed too many times. 

Now, after his games, he gets out of the locker room and makes a beeline for the Onigiri Miya food stand, where Osamu is finishing cleaning up and waiting for him. He leans on the counter of the food stand, on his toes and waiting for Osamu to notice him. 

“Samu. Samu. Samu. Osamu.” 

It takes a few tries before Osamu comes out of his own world enough to look up. He takes his earbuds out and stands up from where he had been crouched behind the stand, gathering up the leftover ingredients from the day. He smiles a little, his entire expression softening as he takes in the sight of Suna in front of him. “Rintarou, hey.” 

“Don’t I get a kiss for a good game?” Suna asks, leaning further forward. 

Osamu hums, pretending to consider it as he fiddles with one earbud in his hand. “You missed an important block in the third set, you know. Aran got a pretty impressive point.” 

Suna’s expression doesn’t change but for a slight curve to the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, but I got him back in the fourth set.” 

“Good you did, because I had money on you guys.” 

Suna raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so you’re betting now?” 

“Tsumu was being annoying,” Osamu tells him, as if that explains everything. To be fair, it kind of does, when it comes to him. 

Suna is about to make some retort, but he only gets as far as opening his mouth before there’s a tap on his shoulder and he flinches. He straightens up and then turns around, ready to sign something or give a reluctant hug and take a picture for an over enthusiastic fan, but then the face in front of him registers. Familiar. Family. 

“Tsugoku,” he says, staring. 

She’s grown up: from his baby sister to a young adult, from braces and pigtails and acne and oversized t-shirts to a bright, white-toothed smile and long black hair falling around her shoulders. She has the same tilt to her smile though, still slightly uneven with her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. 

“Hey, Rintarou.” Her voice is softer than he remembers, but then again he hasn’t spoken to her much since he graduated Inarizaki and joined the pro league, drifting farther and farther from their family until he might as well not call their house in Aichi home anymore. Fuck, how long has it been? He’s not sure he wants the answer. “You played great.” 

“Thanks,” Suna says, still slightly bewildered by her presence. “What are you—are Mom and Dad?” 

She shakes her head. “Just me. Can we—can we get coffee or something?” 

Suna swallows. He loves his sister, he has always loved his sister; he wants nothing more than to get coffee with her and catch up after all these years. But it also hurts to look at her: the spitting image of their mother with her dark gray eyes and perfect posture and long, pale fingers tapping against the back of the opposite hand. She used to bite her nails; does she still do that, or did their parents carve that habit out of her like they did to him? 

“Yeah, sure,” he finally says, just as the silence begins to last too long and she shifts uncomfortably. He glances back at his boyfriend. “Osamu, you coming with?” 

Osamu looks between the two of them, a crease forming at his forehead. “I wouldn’t wanna intrude on a family—” 

“You’re my family too,” Suna cuts in. “You can come.” 

Tsugoku looks like she wants to argue, but Suna doesn’t want to do this by himself. It’s been so long since he’s let himself think of his family: of the cold quiet he had run from, of the constant disappointment he had borne the weight of, of the hurt and resentment they had put on him. 

He has always loved his sister, whatever his gripes with his parents are, but she is also a representation of everything that he did wrong. She is also everything that they have always wanted, and everything he can never be. So he wants to see her, yes, but he doesn’t know if he can do it without falling back into old habits, old patterns, old griefs. 

“Sure,” Osamu says slowly. “If you don’t mind, Tsugoku.” 

Tsugoku schools her face into something more passive, something that isn’t bothered by the intrusion at all. The image of neutrality. A perfect mirror of Suna’s resting expression. He loves that they still share this skill, this face, and he hates that they had to grow up knowing how to do it. “Of course, I don’t mind at all.” 

She looks like she wants to say something else, but holds her tongue. Another trait they have been well taught in how to do. Osamu fills the silence. “How does the café near our place sound? It has good cappuccinos, if you still like those, Tsugoku.” 

“I do,” she says, smiling a little. “I’m surprised you remember.” 

“He can remember anyone’s coffee order,” Suna says, rolling his eyes. “It’s his dumbest and only party trick.” 

“Asshole,” Osmau mutters, but it’s fond. “I’m finished cleaning up, if you two want to head out now.” 

Tsugoku nods, and motions for Suna to lead the way out of the stadium. They don’t get stopped by anyone on their way to Osamu’s car, which Suna is grateful for. It had been a home game, so he was able to catch a ride to the stadium with Osamu rather than taking the bus with the team. The drive home is short and the ride to the café is even shorter. 

It also feels impossibly long, though, because it’s dead silent the entire way. Suna has never minded quiet, but there’s something itchy about this silence, something uncomfortable about it that scratches at the back of his neck and urges him to say something, anything. He wants to talk to Tsugoku, wants to know all about her life now, wants to tell her about his. But he also doesn’t know where to start or what he’s allowed to share. What he’s allowed to have. 

Or, he doesn’t know how much of himself he is allowed to give her—or, how much of himself she is willing to take. When he had left their parents’ place to live in Hyogo and attend Inarizaki, he had left because there were greater opportunities for him at Inarizaki than anywhere closer to home. He had left because he had seen a way up and out and he had wanted to see what would happen with a leap of faith. 

Then he had stayed at Inarizaki because he realized that leaving was the best thing he had ever done. He stayed because he realized the way his parents made him feel about himself was unbearable. He stayed because he realized the way his parents treated him was putting him in a pressure cooker bound to explode one day if he hadn’t gotten out when he did. He stayed because he found a different family. 

Here is the thing about family that Suna has had to teach himself: you can be raised with and by blood relatives, but that doesn’t make them love you. They can provide for you, but that doesn’t mean they want you. This is something he learned early on and is also something he hopes Tsugoku will never learn. It is something he was beginning to think she would never understand—not with being as angry at him for leaving as she was—and he was grateful for that. 

But, sitting across from her in the café now, studying the now apparent bags under her eyes and the nervous tick of her fingers and the way her gaze flits around the room like she’s ready to run, it looks like he was wrong. It looks like she is learning this just as he did. 

“What’s wrong?” he finally asks, after a long few minutes of quiet. “Why are you here?” 

“Can’t I just want to see my brother play volleyball?” she asks, licking her lips. 

He shrugs, tapping his fingers against the paper cup of hot coffee. It’s too hot to drink but he’s tempted to sip at it anyway. “I mean, sure. But I don’t think that’s the case.” 

She swallows, dropping her gaze to the table. She watches his tapping fingers for a long moment, leaving Suna and Osamu to glance at each other, concerned. “I…I needed some…space. From Mom and Dad. And I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

“We’re always happy to see you,” Osamu tells her, and Suna nods in agreement. 

“Thank you,” Tsugoku says, bowing her head slightly. She takes a deep breath and glances up at Suna, then ducks her gaze down again. “I—how did they take it? Mom and Dad. When you, um. Came out to them.” 

Suna stiffens. “What?” 

Tsugoku doesn’t look at him. Just keeps staring at the table, at the way Suna clenches his hands around the cup of coffee. “Like, what did they do? Or, like, say?” 

“I don’t…” Suna trails off. He feels off-kilter, dizzy with the embarrassed rush of blood to his cheeks. Osamu puts a hand on his wrist, just a gentle weight, a reminder that he’s there. Suna exhales. “I never really sat them down and told them. I don’t actually know how much they…know. About that. I just started dating men when I moved out and let them come to their own conclusions about it.” 

“Oh.” Tsugoku doesn’t look any more comforted or at ease with that information. If anything, she looks more on edge, more wired and keyed up, ready to run. For a moment, it looks like she’s not going to say anything else. Then, in a rush, a flurry of confessions: “I was so mad at you, Rintarou, when you left. You just—you left and you got to go to Inarizaki and do whatever you wanted and not care. I was so mad. I hated that you got to do that, and I had to—had to be—” 

She cuts herself off and Suna swallows down a burning in his throat, in his lungs, in his heart. “You had to be everything I wasn’t.” 

“Rintarou—” 

“It’s okay,” Suna says quickly. “It’s—it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Tsugoku takes a sip of her coffee and then flinches. It’s still too hot. She’s always been impatient, and it almost makes Suna smile. She sets down the coffee, moving her hands to her lap. Like this, she looks like their mother: sitting at the dinner table, fingers intertwined in her lap, head bowed, thanking their father for making the meal. Like this, she also looks so small. 

“I told them,” she murmurs. She exhales shakily. “I told them I’m a lesbian and they—” 

She cuts herself off. Doesn’t look up. Suna can hear Osamu’s breath catch in his throat. Osamu, whose family has always loved him so much, and so unconditionally. 

Osamu, whose parents told him that he would always be their son, that he would always be loved, that he would always have a home with them, that he would always have some place soft to land when he fell. Osmau, who brings Suna home for holidays and family reunions and who has never had to hear a single bad word about it. Osamu, who both understands, because he loves Suna and talks to him about everything, and who does not and cannot ever understand at all. 

Osamu, who is the light of Suna’s life anyways and always. He says, softly, not like he’s speaking to a broken thing but like he’s speaking to someone he loves, because this is Suna’s sister, at the end of the day, “If you need a place to stay, you’re welcome with us for as long as you need.” 

“I want to go home,” Tsugoku whispers. She finally looks up. “And—they didn’t kick me out, didn’t tell me not to come back, so I can go home, I can. But I just—the way they looked at me, Rintarou, like they weren’t even seeing me. Or like they were seeing something that couldn’t possibly be the same daughter they had yesterday. Like—like—like what I’ve done is unforgivable even though it was just my best friend and one stupid kiss. And I realized—it’s unfair, it’s stupid, because I’ve done everything right. And it’s still not enough.” 

“Yeah,” Suna says hoarsely, because there is no number of times he can say I’m sorry that will fix this. That will make any of this feel better. That will take away this feeling. Still, he has to say it. “Tsugoku, I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” she tells him, finally looking up. “I get it now, I guess. That you had to leave. It just—I’ve missed you, Rintarou. I’ve missed you a lot.” 

Suna swallows. “I’ve missed you too. You can be with us for as long as you want.” He takes a shaky breath. It’s a stupid offer, and it’s bold and crazy and he hates the sound of it, but he says anyway, “And if you want me to come home with you, and argue with them for you, I can do that, too.” 

He doesn’t want to go back. He doesn’t want to face his parents, knowing that they’ve rejected Tsugoku like this, knowing that they’d probably do the same to him or worse. He doesn’t want to be back in that house, the one that holds so many bad memories. He doesn’t want to, and he would do it for her. For the baby sister he failed to protect. But he can try again now. He can—he will. 

She laughs a little. Soft and still sad, but it’s a laugh all the same. “Thank you.” 

“Course,” he says softly. “Anytime you need.”

[tteokdoroki]

hi lovely! i hope you’re doing well<3 i was wondering if i could request (hcs or drabbles? you can choose) for keigo and bakugou going to a hero gala with their s/o? this can be gn for everyone hehe but i’d like to see how they’d react seeing their s/o in formal wear and how’d they go about acting at the gala. (if you throw in a lil nsfw in there i’ll love you forever hehe) thank you!

 — seeing their s/o in formal wear for the first time !

⇝ pairing(s): keigo takami, katsuki. bakugou x gn!reader

⇝ rating: mature, 18+.

⇝ genre: smut, fluff.

⇝ warning(s): please read !  unprotected sex ( please wear protection ), public sex, oral sex ( reader receiving ), handjobs, marking.

⇝ author’s note(s): ello ello, i’m back with some requests once again, i decided to switch this one up a little bit and include a slight scenario for each character, please let me know if you liked it, nsfw below the cut <3

⇝ masterlist | requests

you probs haven’t been dating very long when keigo asks you on a date to the upcoming hero gala

you’re also a civilian so he’s worried it might not be your scene !!

he’s over the moon when you say yes and is pressing a bunch of kissies to your face.

gives you his bad boy black credit card and tells you to buy whatever you fancy; it just has to be formal wear !!

i see you not being very comfy with idea of using his card to buy yourself something expensive since you’re only just dating

but he waves his hand and says “only the best for my baby bird.”

probably sends his assistant to make sure you’re not worried about the price tag.

on the night when he sees you his draw DROPS

because damn, you look so good in that cute little outfit you got.

it compliments you so well and you look absolutely ravishing.

cant stop looking at you the whole night.

will probably be handsy the whole time, slipping under fabric of your expensive new clothes.

keigo steals you away from a chat with endeavour to slow dance with you during the gala.

“damn baby bird, if i’d have known you were gonna look this good in formal wear, we’d never have left the apartment.”

you whimper into his ear and keigo knows he’s done for.

don’t even make it home, he just pulls you into the closest bathroom and forces you over the sinks.

“k-keigo, anyone could walk in and see—“

“see? oh baby, i bet you want them to see how much of a mess i’m going to make you.”

barley holds back as he gives you his cock, it’s so loud that literally e v e r y o n e can hear you from outside.

when you stumble out both of you a visibly messy from your activities.

you take your leave and barley make it to the car before keigo’s hands are on you again.

⇝ scenario:

if anyone were to walk into the bathroom right now, you’d surely be fucked. million dollar outfit a mess on the floor, hair strewn about and number two pro hero between your legs.

keigo groans as your free hand curls in the sea of his messy blonde hair, forcefully tugging his head up to yours before you press a sloppy kiss to his glistening lips. you whimper at the taste of yourself on his tongue. “k-keigo,” you whimper, legs begging to shudder as his free hand roams your nether regions, stimulating you until you’re seeing new colours behind closes eyelids and your body is trembling against the bathroom counter. “p-please—“

“please what angel? don’t hear you using your words.”

you curl in on yourself, feeling the knot in your tummy tighten as if it’s about to unravel— your eyes snap open to meet a pair of dilated golden ones, making you moan so loud that you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep the sounds in. “gonna cum, don’t wanna be to—to loud, people could hear...”

your boyfriend chuckles darkly from above you, mouth falling open to mock your moans while the slick sounds of your sex flicker between you. “ohoho baby bird, don’t worry about that and let them know how good i’m making you feel.”

you’ve been dating for a year or two at this point but bakugous really private so he’s never taken you to the gala.

when the next one rolls around you decide to ask him why he’s never asked you to go

katsuki just shrugs and says he “didn’t think you’d like all the lights and shitty cameras.”

nonetheless he invites you this time and you happily agree but pout upon realising you don’t have anything appropriate to wear.

you’re both pretty new to the pro hero thing but i think katsuki would be higher ranked and thus earn more bc he’s on track to be number one.

so you’re sitting there like >:(

and bakugou flicks your forehead and rolls his eyes.

“don’t pout dumbass, just use my card and get yourself something nice.”

you don’t hesitate, bouncing to the nearest mall the next day to get yourself something off the charts.

you end up running a little late to the gala so arrive separately from bakugou but when he sees you ...

gosh !!,£/&/

a tiny explosion sets off in his palm from how gorgeous you are

his hands are probably sweaty for the rest of the night.

he keeps checking you out from across the room, staring at you while he sips on champagne...

you only catch him because he keeps letting off tiny explosions by accident !!

you’re probably the one to initiate any teasing that night, slipping your hand down his breaches at the dinner table.

he doesn’t flinch but sends you a warning glare.

probably let’s out a strangled moan when you start palming him for real.

“fuck, yn...”

“what was that kacchan?”

“mind your fuckin’...fuckin’ business, damn nerd. we’re going home.”

yanks you from the table and heads straight for the car.

you both don’t say anything in the car home but as soon as you’re past the front door bakugou is ravaging you like his last meal

teeth, tongue, love bites !! you name it !!

“you think you can get away with teasing me like that? well you’re in for a long fuckin’ night sweetheart.”

oop , you can’t walk for days after that.

⇝ scenario:

“how do you like me now, sweetheart? not so confident— ah fuck, are you?”

bakugou mocks you, forcing you up the wall with every thrust inside of your tight heat. you’d barely made it into the house before your boyfriend pounced, lips on your neck on your lips and your sex. the guy was relentless; tearing right through your formal wear with no regrets, what was left of your outfit remained bunched at your hips— katsuki using the fabric to pull you back onto his hard cock.

tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes, nails scratching their way down the walls as your boyfriend lands a harsh spank to your ass— the pain sending shivers down your spine. “not gonna answer me brat?” he spits; finger tips singing little marks into the skin of your hips. “where’s all that mouth you had earlier? when your hands were down my fuckin’ pants in front of all those people.”

“k-katsuki!”

the blonde pulls you back by your hair, blood red eyes staring right into yours as the pace of his hips speed up; forcing his red hot length further into your walls. “that’s what i thought. now sit there and take my cock. that’ll teach you to misbehave again.”

some more helpful links about recent events:

educate yourself carrd

issues going on in the world carrd

blm carrd

[srirachvbi]

Kageyama and Bokuto taking their kids to practice headcanons !

request: hihi i was wondering if you can do a continuation of the bringing their kids to practice with some of the other haikyuu characters? i’d love to see it with kageyama especially but honestly you can pick anyone! thank you :)

a/n: i AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG... I have no excuses, i was too sad about haikyuu e wording but i have read threads on how to write characters on twitter and i am thriving... so n e ways i was looking for a reason to write more of these because i just... love the idea of this so tsym for requesting!! if i write more parts, i might do hoshiumi, hinata, atsumu, and... maybe oikawa? i’m a huge bokuto stan so his might be longer than kageyamas im sorry <3 and and ik that kageyama goes to italy but for the sake of i want to write other characters, i will be using the adlers oops. i will also be only doing probably two characters per post for these because i write so much for it. LMAO ALSO these are super unrealistic this would NOT be allowed during pro sports practices but for the sake of entertainment, let’s just... do it warnings: manga spoilers

Bokuto Koutarou

He had been wanting to bring Kaori to practice for a while but each time he tried to, you would be like no bitch </3 

heart been broke so many times

When you told him that you had to go into work and couldn’t schedule the nanny in time, he was like “I’LL TAKE CARE OF HER!!!”

Honestly you were only against him taking her because you were still mad at him for leaving her in the high chair for a while and you came home to her crying and him just knocked out 

Like... Kou, pls <3 

He had brought Kaori into post game interviews before but you were always there so this would really be the first time he’d take care of her by himself for a period of time longer than an hour

He’s a good parent dw !! he had just spent the whole night thinking about the most random shit and he ended up sleeping like three hours 

He was thinking about horses cause Ushijima brought them up in an interview >:0

You were still mad tho 

It had been a while and he had actually shown to you that he could take care of her by himself so you were fine with him taking her to practice

He was super pumped and was practically shaking in excitement (he was texting Akaashi the whole morning asdlfjskdf)

Bokuto-san AGHASHEE!!!!! Y/N IS LETTING ME TAKE KAORI  TO PRACTICE!!!!!!!!! AGHASHEE Congrats, Bokuto-san. 

That conversation but every two minutes

I’m sorry Akaashi <3 

He also texts the whole group chat and Hinata’s equally as excited

Kaori and Hinata were best friends !!!! She literally loved him

Like he would put her on his shoulders and they’d run around for hours

How he has so much energy goes beyond everyone but it’s fun to watch 

You lectured him for half an hour about what he should do in certain situations and unlike most times, he listened really well because :(( the baby cares about Kaori

Both Kaori and him actually walked with you to the train station and saw you off before heading to practice !! 

He normally drives to practice because he has a super nice car and it’s easier to drive with Kaori instead of public transportation

When they get to the gym, he goes running in with Kaori on his shoulders 

“WE HAVE ARRIVEEEED!!!!!!!!” 

cue Hinata cheering super loudly

Kaori’s giggling and being all cute omg i love her

She was being carried in on her dad’s shoulders so Bo lets her down and she immediately runs (read: waddles quickly) to Hinata

“Hinata-nii!!!!”

Hinata starts crying-- jk, no

He goes “Kaori-chan!” and scoops her up in his beefy arms 

BEEFY HINATA BEEFY HINATA BEEFY HINATA

Sorry

She’s giggling and she like kisses his cheek and everyone’s like “so cute...” ohmyogd babies

Similar to her dad, she’s super friendly!! and a bit simple minded

It’s literally in her blood to not actually hate anyone so she gets along with EVERYONE at practice

She even makes the coach super soft omg

Atsumu’s just watching her and being like “child. want. child-- oh god, i need a kid.” cause she’s just so god damn cute

Lol atsumu having twins cause it’s a gene or smth idk biology

I barely passed bio please spare me <3

I actually got an 80 smth on my final last year don’t listen to me

Sakusa being hesitant at first to be near her but she’s actually super sweet to him!!

CAUSE LIKE HER DAD SHE’S ACTUALLY REALLY EMOTIONALLY INTELLIGENT AND CAN READ PEOPLE REALLY WELL

like she saw Sakusa’s face and was like “oh!! I remember what dad said!!” 

Kou talks about his teammates a lot and somehow Kaori remembered him telling her about how Sakusa’s a germaphobe so she’s like

“Sir!! I washed my hands!! I’m not dirty!!” and he

He just 👁👄👁 

He thinks she’s cute and treasures her now

Suddenly Kaori has a whole team of dads

it’s okay

Bokuto itching to let her play volleyball but at the same time worrying about her if she does

It’s like the angel and the devil on his shoulders

One sides like

let her pLAY!!!!! LET HER PLAY (read it as if it’s the LEt ME INNN meme)

While the other sides like

👁👄👁 (y/n) will kill me if she gets hurt and i’ll kill myself if she gets hurt and hinata will kill me if she gets hurt-

In the end he gives her a volleyball after she asks once and he’s like ‘PFFT KAORI-CHAN IF YOU INSIST’ while she’s like

dude i asked to play once and normally someone disagrees with me tf are you on, sir? 

she tries to pick the ball up but it ends up being half her size and it’s just... such a cute image

Bo takes a picture of it and sends it to you!!

You reply back in seconds lol

Kou-kun ❤💖 [image.jpeg] LOOK AT HER!! FUTURE PRO (Y/N)-CHAN!! (Y/N) MY LOVE ❤💕❤💕💕❤💕❤💕 be careful letting her hold that it’s too big!! but so cute!!! have fun taro <3

He ends up taking the ball away after a bit because she can’t walk while holding it

Eventually practice has to start tho so he asks her to sit on the bench and she’s an obedient angel and does so !!

The whole time she’s like swinging her legs and watching her dad practice

It’s fun for her to see him play 

Okay but like I’ve said, she’s similar to her dad

At one point at practice during a break, she stole Atsumu’s water and was running around the gym with him chasing her

He was ofc not actually chasing her cause he found it cute that she was trying to steal his stuff

Lol Sakusa being like “oh, you can’t catch up to a child? are your knees getting bad, old man?”

Atsumu’s like “bro, we’re the same age”

Sakusa ignores him

She ends up TRIPPInG AND ATSUMU’s LIke “Oh fuck” 

SHE CRIES

omg Bokuto’s like “tsum tsum-- do you want to die 👁👄👁🗡” because she just got hurt because of him

Atsumu picks her up and is apologizing so god damn much

This is the first time anyone’s seen Bokuto remotely irritated

Kaori: WAAAHHHH

Atsumu: please, child... i don’t want to die today... please... shhhhhhh

He lets her down and she walks (read: waddles) over to her dad and is giving him puppy eyes omg

Bokuto stops being mad and scoops her up and he’s like “did Kao-chan get a boo boo” and she nods, sniffling

Ohmygod dad bokuto dad bokuto dad bokuto stop

suddenly I actually want kids

no

Shion ends up getting a first aid kit since Meian asked (woah more black jackals players except I don’t really know how to write for them??? woahhh)

Shion roasts Atsumu with Sakusa for letting her fall and suddenly Atsumu’s the bad guy

lol

By the end of practice tho Kaori’s fine !!!

She’s back to her regular happy self so cute :(

She asks Bo to call you and when you pick up she shows you her bandaid on her knee and is like “Miya-san was chasing me and I fell!!”

Suddenly Atsumu feels a cold chill and knows you found out lol

Hi this is (y/n), and you’re watching disney channel-

good luck, atsumu *stops camera*

Kageyama Tobio

He

sigh

He would be equally as confused as a father as Ushijima

It’s okay, he’s trying his best

You normally work from home so you guys haven’t really hired a nanny! 

And if you needed someone to watch your guys’ son, Sho (which can mean to fly oho see what I did there I’m so smart), you just drop him off at your parents’ house or Miwa’s!

WAIT SHO... SHOYO... WAIT I DIDN’T EVEN DO THIS ON PURPOSE IM LITERALLY

However, today was the only time you had to go in for like the next few months and both your parents and Miwa are busy

So, you enlist in your husbands help

“Tobio... I need you to watch Sho...” 

He spits out his milk “wHAT” cause like,, he’s hardly taken care of Sho by himself and normally had either his sister or you around

He doesn’t actually spit out his milk-- you’d kill him if he did because it would be a pain in the ass to clean up <3

It takes a bit of convincing being he’s really nervous about taking care of Sho!!

Okay but he’s a great dad dw it’s just he’s nervous about having another human being literally rely on him completely

You also just remind him that Romero’s a father so he won’t be completely on his own while taking care of Sho

So he somehow gets to the gym with Sho in one piece but he’s literally so stiff like bro, i need you to relax

Hoshiumi yelling “KAGEYAMA SHO!!!!!!!” and Sho (who has actually met the team like two times) goes like “HOFIUMI-SAN!!!!!” 

Sho’s a bit of an energetic bby-- he’s less emotionally constipated than his dad <3

He’s... he reminded you guys of Shoyo and well, you thought it would be nice to name him after his god father

No this isn’t a kagehina post i swear i love them but this is me saying that i love their friendship sm omg stop im gonna cry 402 really just popped into my head again

Hoshiumi getting mad when he sees that Sho has actually grown even though he’s a grown ass man and the little toddler would not, in fact, be catching up that soon

“KAGEYAMA SHO HAVE YOU GROWN >:0000!!!!!” 

Sir, pls... sit down

The Adlers all love Sho since they’ve come into contact with him like twice at games before 

Ushijima just... doesn’t know how to interact with Sho

He just stares down at him and honestly Sho stares back up without fear

Kageyama Sho: no (0) fears 

I think it’s cause his father gives a similar stare sometimes and he just... got used to it

Ushijima gives him that stare and Sho just goes SIGH this again

Jk he’s a baby

He literally looks up at Ushiwaka and gives him this cute ass grin and Ushijima’s like “oh, children are very cute.”

Thank you, Wakatoshi-kun

Romero does, in fact, give Kags some tips about fathering and ends up showing pictures of Rubens to the team (love that) 

OKAY BUT LIKE OFF TOPIC FROM THE PRACTICE BUT

Sho being such a big fan of Hinata and being like “woAHHH!!! I’M NAMED AFTER HIM!!!” 

Hinata rubs it in Kags face because Sho practically idolizes him

anyways

Practice starts and Sho’s just sitting on the gym floor with a volleyball in his hands cause he

Kags just giving newborn Sho a volleyball and expecting him to become acquainted

It worked

Sho’s used to holding onto volleyballs and even tries to hit it but everytime he did, he’d fall backwards onto his lil bum and would be like :(

Kageyama watching from the other side of the gym and his heart just goes AHHHHHHHHHH

He’s about to cry that is the cutest thing he’s ever seen

Sho making sure he doesn’t interrupt practice!!! and like chasing after the ball to make sure it doesn’t go onto the courts!!!

Cute babs is so good :(

He ends up tripping tho and starts to tear up and Kags is watching during practice and goes “OH GOD”

He’s literally whipping his head from Sho to his coach and has this desperate look on his face 

he’s saying “JUST ONE BREAK!! JUST ONE, SIR!!” with his eyes and his coach just gives in

Kageyama going from one side of the gym to the next at insane speed

Sho: dad :((( i hwurt my knee :(((

Kags just picks him up and cradles him to his chest (he does this after making sure there’s no blood or anything-- it’s literally just a little bit red) 

Kags being a good dad just... WEAK

Only like two minutes later, Sho stops sniffling and is like “!!! go back to practice daddy!!” 

Kags does and he can’t focus on Sho anymore cause his coach would yell at him asldfjlsf

At the end of practice, Sho is like “dad i wanna play voweyball!!!!!!” and Kags heart just CLENCHES

He grabs his heart like that meme or smth 

You call them cause you know when practice normally ends and Sho’s just talking a lot and it’s so cute

He’s super excited and you’re like !!! My CUTE CHILD !!!!

Lol you tease Kags cause he was worrying about nothing

“Maybe I’ll let you take care of him by yourself more often Tobio” “Pls, I lost ten years of my life when I saw him fall pls not yet <3″ 

[yeojaa]

finders keep hers, iii.

read parts one and two!  the long awaited conclusion!  i’m sorry it turned into a friggin’ novel.  i hope it does the first two parts justice, though.  these kids are...  idiots.  i love them and you (and also the best beta reader @hobi-gif​)!  💖

pairing.  jjk x named f!reader.  rating.  explicit, ofc.  tags.  this is...  really soft at certain parts.  and then really raunchy at others.  oops?  but fr - mainly fluff with some smut at the end.  you might need a filling.  wc.  5.4k.

You’re buzzed into the building without a moment’s hesitation, the kind concierge with the gummy smile and greying temples beaming at you as you enter.  “Nice to see you, Miss Lee.”

“You too, Mr. Choi.”  A grin of your own is offered, gym bag hiked higher over your shoulder as you pause to chat.  You’re in no rush.  “Is he home?”

“I don’t believe so.”  The sudden look of disapproval that colours the older gentleman’s features is almost comical, reminiscent of a disparaging parent.  It’s the same expression you’re greeted with nearly every time you visit.  “He left in a town car yesterday afternoon and I don’t think he’s been back since.  That boy’s going to get himself in trouble one day.”  As if Jungkook didn’t already - as if it didn’t follow him around, glued to the bottoms of his Italian leather shoes.

“Tell me about it.”

“You know…”  There’s that twinkle in Mr. Choi’s eyes again - the one that tells you he’s about to repeat the same words he always does when he catches you alone.  “A nice girl like you could get him to settle down.”

Your response is what it always is - a scoff and a laugh rolled into one.  It careens off your tongue, ringing in the spacious lobby.  “I don’t think anyone will ever get him to settle down.”

How true that is, you’re not sure.  For your sake, you try not to think about it too much. 

The old man is undeterred though, shrugging his narrow shoulders beneath the neat uniform he wears.  It’s a little loose in the chest but immaculate otherwise, tie knotted in a classic Windsor and collar ironed perfectly.  He levels you with that shrewd stare of his but says nothing further, simply engaging you in an unspoken staring contest. 

Sometimes, you wonder how much he sees.  How much he knows .

You break before he does, tearing your gaze away and blinking rapidly.  He laughs, full bellied and deep from the chest.  “Get on upstairs, Miss Lee.”  You aren’t offended by the dismissal.  “It’s always nice chatting with you.”

You remind yourself to bring him chocolates the next time you’re by.  The ones with hazelnuts, because those are his favourite. A fact you only know because you’ve helped your best friend pick up a box for him every Christmas, writing the card and having him sign it right before it gets left behind the desk.

Actually, you helped Jungkook with a lot of things.  Always had.  It was simply the nature of your friendship - passed down by your parents and forged stronger by childhood playdates, your fair share of teenage squabbling, and college hangovers so bad they’d created an unbreakable bond.  

Whenever he would need you, you’d be there - whether that meant picking him up at 4 AM from the airport because he wanted “some shitty fast food and to see you” or helping him pick gifts for Mother’s Day.  There was no task too small, no moment too inconsequential. 

Unconditional love, they called it. 

It’s why you have no problem swanning into his apartment with the extra key you’ve had since he moved in, kicking off your trainers and tucking them neatly alongside the rows of black leather and expensive sneakers.  

You do so much for him that you take where you can, indulging in all of the luxuries you’ve never been afforded.  Unparalleled view, stupidly expensive toiletries, a damn jacuzzi tub . 

You pull your sweater over your head - truthfully, one of Jungkook’s from college that you’d never felt inclined to give back - and toss it over the back of a barstool on your way into the guest suite.  Your bag follows shortly after, deposited at the foot of the bed that exists as a rotating welcome mat to your and Jungkook’s circle of friends.  

The rest of your clothes - sports bra, shorts, thong, socks - are stripped, folded, and tucked into the laundry bag you keep handy.  You know you could leave them here and Jungkook’s housekeeper would take care of it, but you’ve never been too comfortable with that.  Different upbringings.

The spray is like sweet relief the moment you step beneath the rainforest shower.  It’s the perfect temperature and pressure, melting the sweat and tension from your bones.  

But it isn't why you’re here, so you make quick work in the glass enclosure, scrubbing your body bare and lathering and conditioning your hair into a squeaky clean mess.  Any other time, you’d just spend a good half hour standing beneath the head but you’re feeling particularly indulgent today.  

Call it a spa day, courtesy of one Jeon Jungkook. 

You don’t bother to dry off, water splashing across the floor as you step from the shower and sink into the spacious tub that overlooks the heart of Seoul.  Diptyque bath oil encapsulates the room in a bubble of sweet almond, similarly branded candle burning on the ledge.  The jets release a steady stream against your tired back and legs, massaging your limbs into jelly. 

You can’t help the sigh of utter relaxation that rolls off your tongue, sinking into water in the same instance your shoulders do.    

This is what dreams are made of.  Anyone who says differently is an idiot and a liar. 

“When are you going to tell her?”

You’re not expecting the voice and it breaks the silence like a thousand pound weight, shattering the calm and nearly startling you enough for you to knock your head on the edge of the tub.  

There’s no reason for you to be surprised.  Not really.  This isn’t your home, after all.  You aren’t entitled to any sort of privacy.  

It doesn’t matter, though.  The discomfort in your chest is unfolding regardless, lodging rocks in your throat.  

Because it’s a female voice.  Lilting, soft, draped in familiarity.  Not someone brand new.  

Your heart stutters at the realisation.  The rush of blood against your eardrums is so loud you momentarily wonder whether they can hear it all the way in the living room.  They must be able to - it’s practically deafening.  You can’t even hear the rest of their conversation.

Their conversation .

Which seems to have ended, leaving only silence.

You suddenly remember your shoes, your sweater.  Traces of you littered throughout the apartment that isn’t yours.  God, you’re an idiot.  He was going to kill you - or she was.  You’re not sure which is worse.

You’re reaching for the fluffy white towel on the rack when you’re scared near half to death yet again.  This time, by your best friend who cuts an imposing figure in the doorway, broad form resting casually against the frame.  He looks surprisingly unbothered, curls pushed back from his forehead by a pair of sunglasses and arms folded over his chest.

“Jesus!”  The shriek comes four octaves higher than it normally would, pitching into the open so loudly you wince.  “You scared me!”

You can’t help the way you peek past his shoulder for a sign of the girl he’d brought home.

“Enjoying yourself?”  There’s something amused dancing in the darks of his eyes, his mouth curving around the same emotion as he steps into the bathroom.  You’d be bothered if he were anyone else, unnecessarily long legs carrying him to you in three strides.  

“I didn’t know you were home.”  You can’t quite meet his stare, still far too distracted by the mystery woman.  Had he left her on the couch?  Maybe his bedroom as he snuck you out?  What excuse could he come up with?

“Didn’t know you were home either.”  

He’s made himself comfortable right on the ledge of the tub, marked fingers dragging lazily through the still-scalding water.  He doesn’t seem terribly in a rush.  That puts you on edge.

Was he going to hide you in here? 

“I wanted to relax after my run.”  You don’t owe him an explanation - not really - but you offer it anyway.  You figure you need to, when you might’ve ruined his Sunday morning romp session.  You can’t bring yourself to address it, though.  The words just won’t come, sitting on the tip of your tongue like thorns.  It hurts to swallow. 

Jungkook doesn’t further the conversation - a first for him.  He’s normally a chatterbox.

The silence stretches on.  Suffocating.

You force yourself to speak, staring down at your hands that are slowly pruning beneath the water.  “Should I… go?”  The way it comes is feeble, soft, uncertain.  You hate it.

By the look of surprise on his face, he does, too.  He cackles suddenly, like a goddamn witch.  “Why?”

Heat floods across your cheeks.  You wish you could blame it on the bath or the steam that still collects on the mirrors.  It pulls high over your ears, colouring them tomato red and embarrassed.  Surely, he knows why.  

When he repeats himself, it’s harder, without any of the laughter from before.  

Rather than answer, you wave a hand through the air, fingers wiggling.  The universal sign for you know .  It should be enough - you hope it’s enough.  Your ego won’t let you verbalise it.  

“Suddenly mute, baby?”

It isn’t quite mocking - teasing, maybe - but it stokes the fire that burns in the pit of your stomach and licks uncomfortably at the organ in your chest.  You don’t even look at him as you nearly spit the words, petulant and far more bothered than you should be.  “You’ve got a girl here.”  

A laugh that isn’t quite a laugh comes, swathed in velvet and coloured blue.  The effort you make to not shoot him a glare is herculean.  

He’s still snickering when he speaks.  “You mean my sister?”

“Your sister?”  It’s more surprise at yourself that has you whipping to look at him, bewilderment tossing all other emotion out the window.  Because his sister was practically your sister.  How had you not recognised her voice?  You feel silly all at once, the embarrassment from earlier fading into reticence. 

“Yeah.  I spent the night babysitting the twins.”

You sometimes forget how much Jungkook loves children - especially his sisters’.  It’s hard to reconcile the family man he effortlessly transforms into when he spends most of his waking hours playing the perfect part of unaffected bachelor. 

“How are they?”  You ask because you care - you adore Minseo and Minhyuk - but also so you can move the conversation along.  The last thing you want to do is dwell on your mistake.

“They’re good.  Getting big.”  He’s got that smile on his face - the one that’s softer than any other, with deep lines at the corners of his eyes.  Reserved especially for the people he cares about most.  Your favourite sight.  “You can come with me next time.  Minnie asked about you, anyway.”

Warmth blossoms in your chest.

Being liked by peers?  Great.  Being respected by your superiors?  Rewarding.  But being loved by children?  It was in a league all its own - better than ice cream on a hot day.

“Sure.”  You can’t keep the grin away.

That is, until he speaks again, circling the conversation back.  “So, were you jealous?”  His ability to piss you off is uncanny.  It’s like it’s written into his genetic code, each molecule of his body tasked with ruining your day. 

“No.”  It’s meant to be a scoff.  It’s not very believable.

“You sure, princess?”  The fingers on your chin are wholly unnecessary - he’s got you caught in his stare, locked in place with nowhere to go.

“Yes, Bunny .”  You know how much he hates the nickname, only tolerating it because it’s you.  You can’t deny the pleasure that comes at the sight of his jaw tensing, muscle jumping in agitation.  Just as he’s your weakness, you’re his, too.  “Now let me finish—”

He cuts you off, sharp and unrelenting:  “Get out.”

“Excuse me?”  

“You heard me.  Get out of the tub or I’m pulling you out myself.”  Risen to his full height, he’s an imposing figure.  Even worse, there’s something you can’t read in his expression - something that has your nerves firing wildly.  Your heart rattles around in your chest, uncertain.  

He leaves you without another word.

You scramble out of the bath as quickly as your confused limbs allow you, knotting the towel beneath your arms.  You’re not quite sure what to do next, caught between pulling your clean clothes out of your workout bag and demanding an answer from your sphinx of a best friend.

What the hell was his problem? 

Your impatience wins out as you’re tugging a brush through your hair, fumbling uncharacteristically through knots until you’re too frustrated to continue.  You’re ready to tear into him when you storm out of the guestroom;  you’ve got a barrage of insults on your tongue, proverbial gun cocked and ready to unload.  

They melt away when you spy him on the couch, neatly wrapped bouquet laid across the coffee table.

“Come here.”  It’s not a request so much as a demand - commanding and soft all at once.  A small part of you wants to fire off a rebuttal;  that part dies when he repeats himself, louder this time. 

The seat you take beside him is begrudging, a good foot of space held between your bodies.  You fiddle with the hem of your towel, turning a loose thread over and over your index finger. 

“What?”  It’s snippy, discontent - kerosene on the fire that burns beneath Jungkook’s skin.

“Watch it,”  he retorts, though there’s no acid to his words.  Frankly, he sounds more frustrated than angry, more exasperated than pissed off.

That makes one of you.

Only he can bring out this side of you - brusque and biting.  “ You watch it, Bunny.”

Fingers find the bridge of his nose, a gesture you don’t see very often.  Guilt blooms behind your ribcage as he rubs at the tension between his eyes.  For someone who has it all, he looks like he’s a moment away from losing it. 

“You’re a brat, you know that?”  

“Takes one to know one,”  you retort, not unkindly.  

“You’re making this really hard,”  he snaps in the same instant he all but throws the overwhelming bunch of flowers at you.  

You nearly drop them you’re so surprised.

“What are these for?”

“You.”

“Me?”  

“Did I stutter?”

If you weren’t so busy studying the arrangement of florals, you’d have some witty comeback.  As it stands, you’re preoccupied by the pretty bunch of peonies and tulips.  You wonder what he’s done wrong - why he’s found it necessary to soften the blow with your favourite flowers. 

Your thoughts drift back to his sister’s words:  when are you going to tell her?

All at once, you want nothing more than to leave.  You don’t want whatever heartbreak is about to come.  You’re not ready for it.  

“Listen—”

He cuts you off, again.  “I love you.”

You’re not sure how your face looks.  You imagine you could look up flabbergasted in the dictionary and you’d find a photo of your expression right now.  “What?”

Jungkook won’t quite look at you, intently focused on an indiscernible point against the far wall.  When he speaks the words again, they’re full of uncertainty - but not in the way you expect.  The confession is as believable as any you’ve ever heard - he really does sound like he loves you - but somehow, it’s draped in dread and held aloft by hummingbird wings.  “I love you.”  

He’s nervous, you realise in amazement. 

“Come again?”  

He meets your stare then, brow knitting with unease.  He doesn’t say it again, though.

“Are you messing around with me?”  You don’t mean it how it comes - a little accusatory.

“I’m not an asshole.”  Except both of you know he certainly can be.  You don’t call him on it, though, opting instead to peer curiously at him, hands fisted around the bouquet in your lap.  “I talked to my sister.  She…”  He shrugs once, an almost helpless roll of his shoulders.  “She told me I was an idiot.”

You’re not surprised by that.  Lina had always been the one to give it to him straight.

“She said I would lose you if I didn’t get my shit together.”  There’s a bit of childish petulance that works its way into each syllable - he hates being told what to do.  “Said I needed to tell you or I’d regret it.  Which is stupid, because we’ve been best friends forever and she’s younger than me so what does she know—”  He must realise he’s rambling, something he never does.  “But—”

“But?”  Quiet, hopeful, coaxing. 

There’s a warmth in your chest - illuminating and golden and so bright it hurts to think about.  It grows with each moment that passes, spurred on by the look in his eyes and how they find yours.  

Hesitation pulls the silence a beat too long.  The light wanes.  You wonder if the moment has passed.  

And then he continues, a little more earnestly.  “Was she right?  Am I going to lose you?”

You’re not entirely sure what he’s asking.  You don’t think he even knows what he’s asking.  You try to answer anyway, as honest as you can without pinning your heart directly on your sleeve.  “You’ll never lose me.”

“You know what I mean.”  

Did you?  “You’ll never lose me.”  You’re the one repeating yourself this time, just that bit harder.  

“Then say it.”  Again, not a request.  A prayer, perhaps.  Ardent and needy - a world away from the Jeon Jungkook you know.

You don’t hesitate.  “I love you.”

He doesn’t either - upon you so quickly you don’t have time to blink or think.  

How he kisses you now feels different.  More .  It’s like being consumed entirely - changed from the inside out in ways you never thought possible.  Where he touches, sparks fly, filling you like stars in the night sky.  Lava rolls over every inch, dragging heat and want and need from the soles of your feet to the tip of your nose.  You’re gasping rather than breathing, clawing against the front of his shirt and twining your fingers into the strands that curl over his nape. 

“You never told me you could kiss like that.”  It’s lacking coherence, made by a partial inhale and wild, wondrous eyes.

His response is a laugh and another kiss, forceful and adoring and utterly devastating.  “Shut up,”  he mouths against your lips, tongue licking over your teeth and gums like he’s trying to memorise every inch of you.  Hands follow in the same amorous motions, tugging and pulling and aching for you closer;  the tips of his fingers sear white hot heat over your hips, the small of your waist, the delicate bones of your ribcage.

“I’m serious...”  You really are - far more than you should be.  You’d been missing out on this ?  It’s incomprehensible.

The sound he makes is more of a growl, playful and resounding in the cavern of his chest.  It rattles your own, sending your heart on a downward spiral into the pit of your stomach.  His nose traces the column of your throat, soft lips guiding him further until he’s mouthing hotly over the bare skin of your shoulder.  Tongue teases, delves ever so gently into the dip of your collarbone, and swipes back up, laving over the maroon that peeks around the edge of his teeth.  You can’t help but keen, holding him so closely you wonder if you’re suffocating him.

“So am I.”  Each syllable is punctuated by another nip, another nibble.  It seems like his goal is to bloom roses across your skin - a wreath to welcome him home, made by his own touch.

You don’t mind.  

“Say it again,”  he demands, hopeful and unashamed from his place against your neck.  

The admission comes easily, as if it’s always lived on the tip of your tongue.  “I love you.”  

“Again.”  You’re not ready for the way he stares at you - like he’s never done before.  Like he’s seeing you for the first time and he’s awestruck.  “Say it again.”

“I love you.”  Hands find the familiar contours of his face, thumbs brushing over the hollows of his eyes, over the beauty mark that sits front and centre beneath his lip.  Each graze follows a repetition of the confession, as if you might burn the three simple words beneath his skin - write it into his DNA like he’s written into yours.  “I love you.  I love you.  I love you, Bunny .”

He holds you close - so tightly it feels almost as if he’ll crush you - and captures your mouth again.  It’s more gentle but just as lovesick.  A thousand unspoken words spill from his tongue to yours, swallowed whole with greed you don’t bother to hide.

“I need you.”  It’s whiny, framed by a pout that could end wars and paired with doe eyes so wide and innocent you almost want to roll your own.  

“You have me.”

“Do I?”  There’s a very deliberate roll of his hips, denim of his jeans rough against the exposed softness of your inner thighs, hands manoeuvring over the partially covered swell of your hips.  The press of his fingers is purposeful, digging tension into every inch.  As if he might transfer some of the unadulterated need that thrums through his veins, turning his heart to jelly and brain to mush.

“Since when do you ask?”  You have a point.

“You’re right,”  his grin is almost lazy, drawing over his mouth in a measured crawl.  “Good girls just do what they’re told, right?”  His grips tightens almost imperceptibly, holding you to him almost effortlessly.  You’ve been in this position a hundred times before but it’s never been this easy - like breathing.

The gasp you offer is all mock affront, hand laid palm-down across your chest.  You don’t miss the way his gaze follows it before ticking lower, unabashed in its admiration.  “Are you saying I’m not?”

“Don’t know, baby.”  The war on your neck has resumed, teeth traded seamlessly for the softer promise of his tongue, the dry brush of his lips.  It’s almost sinful, garnering sighs of affection and need from somewhere low in your throat.  “Want to be a good girl for me?”

You’re not quite used to this version of him - playful and needy and not nearly as demanding as usual.  A part of you wants to draw out the side of him you know is there, hidden just beneath the surface;  the other wants to bask in this, all feather soft and cotton candy sweet.

“Always,”  you return, with a coquettish smile and fluttering lashes. 

“Always,”  he murmurs, tasting it for the first time.  He sounds almost giddy when he repeats it once, then twice, then a third time for good measure.  You think it’ll come again, laughter rolling off your tongue as you stare into the eyes of the boy you love.  Instead, he speaks in a voice full of gravel and grit, all traces of your sunshine boy suddenly swallowed whole by the darks of his pupils.  “Fuck - I can’t wait to have you.”

“Then what’re you waiting for?”  You don’t need to push him.  You like to do it anyway.  It feels right .

“You’re the worst.”  What Jungkook means is you’re the best and I love you and I’m going to fuck you six ways into next week .  What he means is this is the scariest thing he’s ever done but it’s all right because he has you.  What he means is thank you - and how he shows it is through worship.  

On the way to the bedroom, he crowds every inch of you, holding you so closely you wonder if he’s trying to carve himself into your bones.  He’s firm and unrelenting, balancing you against his chest as he smothers every available inch of your shoulders in sweet, sloppy kisses.  He revels in the way you cling to him like you’ve never needed anything else. 

In his bed, he lays you out and strips you bare.  He offers devotion with every pass of his fingers, every trail of his tongue.  He wants you so badly it’s hard to focus on giving you everything you deserve, but he tries anyway.  He sucks love into your neck and over your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers until you’re panting and he’s aching for the same treatment.  

On his knees, he prays at the altar of your body, taking his time to map the constellations on your skin, the memories written into each scar and dot.  His tongue follows the raised flesh that sits across your hip - an unfortunate mishap from a schoolyard dare.  You whine and he nearly cries, soothing over the sensitive spot with hands and lips and tenderness.  He lays kisses on each freckle, each irregular mark.  From your navel to your knee and everywhere in between, he caresses and comforts, turning those blemishes into stars.  

He also teases - subtly, quietly, with wandering hands and focused breaths.  You don’t realise it until it’s too late, your insides molten, your pulse a thunderclap in your ears.  

“Jungkook.”  It sounds more like begging than anything.  Exactly what he wants.

“What’s up, princess?”  Spoken so casually, as if he isn’t between your legs, long fingers tracing through the slick that coats your thighs.  He gazes up from behind too long strands, all wide-eyed and terribly sweet - until he pops a digit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around the taste of you.  “Something wrong?”

“Stop teasing.”  You hear yourself whine but it doesn’t quite sound like you, higher pitched and needier than you’ve ever been.  

“I thought you were going to be good for me,”  he returns with a tut and a push of that same finger deep into your cunt.  He flexes it experimentally, beaming up at you when you clench around the intrusion that’s too much and not even close to being enough all at once.  “You’re so wet, baby.  I just slide right in.”  

As if to drive his point home, he drives another finger in, scissoring them languidly to stretch you open.  It’s such a pretty sight, messy and inviting.  He can’t resist a taste, dragging the flat of his tongue over and around the fingers that continue to fuck into you at a faster pace.   

“ Jungkook! ”  You’re shrieking, bucking against the onslaught of sensations.  A shapely arm immediately cages you against the bed, palm splayed across your hips.  

“Stay still.”  It’s a growl, teeth bared against the sensitive pearl between your legs.  Words are punctuated with the softest pressure - a silent threat that goes no further.  You wonder what he’ll do if he has to repeat himself.  “Good girls listen, remember?”

You’re fumbling across his shoulders, nails digging crescents everywhere you can reach.  You need him so badly it hurts .  “Please.”  

“Please what?”  That patented, stupid smirk cradles his mouth, tongue peeking out as he stares at you expectantly.  “If you’re going to be so demanding, at least use your words.”  He watches the way your eyes roll back into your head when he slots another finger in with the others and curls them against that particular spot that has you seeing stars.  The bastard has the audacity to coo at you.  “What’s wrong, baby?  Can’t speak?”

You’re near wailing, gasping and whining around words that sound like his name.  Angry red lines sprout across his shoulders, his arms - demands carved into flesh. 

He makes a sound, wistful and resigned.  You think - try to think, beyond the pleasure that’s building steadily in the pit of your stomach - that he’s finally going to give you what you need.  You’re almost crying for it, moisture crowding your lashes and threatening to spill over.

Then he withdraws, all at once.

You could scream.  In fact, you do, red in the face and chest heaving.  “I hate you!”  

“No.”  He’s upon you in an instant, insistent and terribly smug.  There’s a playground in his smile, childish laughter spilling into the spaces between you.  “You actually love me.”  He noses at your neck, the heat of his palm searing against your side as he sighs almost dreamily.  “Say it again.”

You answer him with something more than love - frustration and annoyance and so much devotion you can’t keep it out no matter how hard you try.  “No.”

It’s a challenge more than anything.  He knows it;  you know it.

He accepts it readily, just as you expect him to.  

“Say it.”  Enamel presses steady, heavy, into the sensitive spot right beneath your ear.  He mouths over the skin that blows out red and inviting beneath his ministrations, the firm press of his fingers gripping you without hesitation.  You can feel the entire weight of him against you, length nestled comfortably against your core.  He repeats himself as he rocks against you, dragging the swollen, leaking head of his cock through your folds with an agonising slowness that has you clenching around nothing.  “Come on, baby.”

You’re keening, adjusting your hips and grinding against him.  You still won’t say it, hoping to find a rhythm in the quiet that’s punctuated by your laboured breaths and his occasional laughter.

“Just say it and I’ll give you what you want.  I’ll give you everything.  Promise, sweetheart.”  

Framed against the late morning sun, hair spilling across his forehead in curls of india ink, he’s so handsome your heart leaps into your throat.  “I love you.”  It’s a wet confession, carried by a wave of emotion you don’t expect.

“I love you,”  he echoes, sinking into you so gradually you feel like you’re caught in slow motion, all of your focus balanced on the tip of a needle.  

It’s never been like this before.  Each inch is a delicious stretch, filling you and claiming you.  The drag is incredible, your walls fluttering around the intrusion and aching for more.  You bite back a sob, digging into the wide expanse of his back with your nails as your mouth seeks purchase anywhere it can - over his jaw, up his neck, across his shoulders.  He soothes you as he presses deeper, reassurances whispered against your temple.  

“I’ve got you, baby.  Let me make you feel good.”  When he bottoms out, you demand more - somehow, somehow - locking your ankles against the small of his waist. He doesn’t miss the way you clench, so tight around him it almost hurts , when he says those three words once again.  “I love you.”

His lips find yours and he brushes them over and over - a salve for the burn he ignites beneath your skin.  It doesn’t matter that he’s both the calm and the chaos.  Jungkook’s always been everything to you.

The rhythm he sets is unhurried and perfect.  Each snap of his hips has his cock dragging against your walls, filling and stretching you so well;  everywhere his skin brushes yours, you’re alive.  There are a million nerve endings going haywire beneath your skin, flashing bright as holiday lights.  

That’s what it’s like - Christmas morning .  Picture perfect and filled with wonder.

He’s completely smitten when he draws back just enough to see the entirety of you - your fucked-out expression, the rose-wreath he’s wrought around your neck, the sweat that beads between your tits and tempts him to duck his head.  “I love you.”  It’s almost hypnotising - watching you take him, pussy dripping and needy around his cock. 

“I love you,”  you parrot back - or try to.  It’s not very coherent, driven to a point of nonsense when his hips begin to stutter and he makes up for the loss of rhythm by slipping his fingers over your clit in circle eights.  

You’re at your breaking point.  He knows - can read you like the back of his hand - and holds you there, back bowing to kiss you breathless, pressure unrelenting against the bundle of nerves.  

“That’s it, princess.  Right there.”   

The coil snaps at the third pass and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks, his name spilling off your tongue in tandem with the erratic thudding of your heart.  White spots your vision, entire body electrified as you crash headlong into an abyss of bliss.  You hear him join you with a hoarse whine, a mix of your cum slipping out of you as he rides out his own high with shallow thrusts, mouth open and panting against your shoulder.  

The comedown is hazy, dusted in exhaustion and a thin sheen of sweat.  When he slips from you, he doesn’t go far, tugging you comfortably against his side like you’re not both a little gross.  It’s not the first time you’ve fucked but it feels different.  

“I love you, baby.”  

“I love you, Bunny.”

You realise - it feels exactly like that.  Making love.

[sincerelyella]

It’s Your Love - happy birthday Burnsy!

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Drake x OC (Alyssa); Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: It’s Your Love by Tim McGraw & Faith Hill

Characters belong to Pixelberry; OC Alyssa Devereaux belongs to my sister @burnsoslow​; Ella Brooks belongs to me.

Summary: The gang coordinates a surprise for Alyssa’s birthday.

A/N: It’s my Burnsy’s birthday and I’m sure everything I’m going to say she already knows! Firstly, I’m so sorry I changed my mind about which AU and which song for this fic like 47545024 million trillion times. Burns just freaking gets me mmkay? She’s my nakie twin, my soul sister, my football bestie and my biggest cheerleader. GUYS! Idk how I could have gotten through this year without her checking in on me, our football conversations or her amazing (and haaawwwwt) fics. Some dialogue in this fic, btw, was taken from a conversation we really had (and as usual, she is hilarious).

Burns, you know that I love you a BUTT TON and I will fight ANYBODY for you (where’s my vaseline?!) Thank you for always being in my corner, for giving me SEVERAL pep talks this year (because I’m dramatic), for believing in me when I sometimes didn’t believe in myself, and for loving me SO HARD. I really hope you have an amazing day and you enjoy your bday dessert and that you like this little fic.

-> please note, this is a rereblog and I am adding this fic to my ML. Today is not actually our sweet Burnsy’s birthday even though we would all like it to be lol

A/N2: This is set in The Loft AU by the way! Check it out here if you haven’t seen these guys’ shenanigans.

Warnings: Adult language, sexual innuendos, and major fluff guys!! The birthday girl wanted to be swooned and I will do my damndest to give her whatever she wants today.

Thank you so much @alyssalauren​ for letting me vent and letting me harass you with my whining … and listening to me change my mind about this for WEEKS - and also prereading for me along with @ofpixelsandscribbles​. I love you guys so much!

Words: 3149 (oops)

Alyssa was not feeling well. The more she coughed, the more she felt like death. “Oh, God, I feel like my brain is going to explode into itty bitty pieces,” she moaned with her arm draped over her face.

Drake bit his lip in an effort to stop a chuckle. She’s so fucking cute, and whiny. But cute. “Baby, it’s just a cold, you’ll be fine.” He slid onto their large king-sized bed and began to rub her lower back.

“It’s not! It’s the plague! Those kids at school don’t cover their mouths and sneeze up into the air! Like, I can see particles of their spit, just wafting,” she complained as she waved her hand in the air, mimicking the particles. “I bet you it landed on me or I inhaled that shit and now, look at me!” Her cute nose was reddened slightly from blowing out copious amounts of snot. She was seriously thinking about shoving some tissue in each nostril just to make sure nothing dripped.

Drake moved his hands upward and massaged her shoulders gently. “I can make you some soup,” he nibbled on her earlobe. “And make you feel … relaxed.”

“Mmmm,” she shivered at his words and sniffled. “Yes, baby, make me feel relaxed!”

A little while later

After Drake’s impressive two hour session of making Alyssa feel better, loud knocks sounded at their bedroom door.

“Lyssa!” Ella bellowed. “Lyss, you’re not answering my phone calls! Are you dead?!”

“No,” she croaked from the bed and stifled a laugh when Drake tripped trying to put on his boxers. “I was just getting my back blown out by my hot boyfriend.”

“Ew, TMI! Okay, are you covered up? I’m coming in!”

“No!” Drake yelled as he hurriedly threw on his pants. “Do not come in here, Brooks! I’m fucking naked!”

“Like I haven’t seen a naked man before,” Ella pushed open the door and rolled her eyes at Drake. “You aren’t even naked, Walker, get a grip.”

“No damn privacy around here,” he grumbled as he looked for a shirt in the closet.

“Hi!” Alyssa called out hoarsely from the bed as she tucked her comforter around her naked body. “I didn’t go to work today, I felt like death was coming for me.”

“I could hear you coughing from the kitchen. So, your blood pressure and that gnarly cough you have are what’s concerning me.”

“Yeah,” Lyss frowned and sniffed. “The cough is rough.”

“And gunky huh? Are you spitting up weird colored stuff?”

“No, it's clear and phlegmy!”

Ella narrowed her eyes on her best friend. “Lyss, did you take your blood pressure today?”

“I … umm no, I don’t like the machine.”

Ella let out a sigh. “You have to babe!”

Lyss’s bottom lip quivered. “I get scared my arm will explode.”

“Lyssa.”

The lip quiver always works with Drake. “… yes?”

“Your arm won’t explode.”

“If it malfunctions it could!”

Ella rubbed her hands over her face. “Alyssa!”

“In one of the Halloween movies, Michael Myers killed someone in the hospital by putting a BP cuff around their neck and pumping it until their head exploded!”

“What the fuck? Okay, no more Halloween movies for you!”

“But-”

“It’s not going to explode, Alyssa. You need to take your blood pressure. Do I have to hogtie you?”

“No ma’am, I’m taller than you!”

“By ½ an inch!”

Ella switched tactics. “If you don’t do this, I’m going to get Drake on you.”

Lyss giggled. “That’s hardly a punishment.”

Ella’s eye twitched and Alyssa held back a laugh.

After another 10 minutes, Alyssa finally agreed to only check her blood pressure if Ella did it for her and Drake had to hold her hand. Once the numbers were acceptable to Ella, Alyssa added to her terms. “Also, I want chicken noodle soup and those little soup crackers” - she sniffled - “and coffee.”

“Why not tea? That’s better I think,” Ella brushed some hair off of her best friend’s forehead.

“Coffee.”

“Cream isn’t a good idea for-”

Drake gave Ella a look.

“I mean … sure!”

“I’ll get started on that, baby,” Drake leaned over to kiss his girlfriend on top of her head. “Be right back.”

Ella waited until he closed the bedroom door behind him. “Lyssa.”

“Hmm?” She was already settled into the fluffy pillow and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Do you have a fever?” Not waiting for an answer, Ella leaned forward and felt Alyssa’s forehead with the back of her hand.

“Nu-uh,” Lyss mumbled and coughed.

“Lyss?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you want to put on some clothes?”

“Mmm, nope, I’m good naked.”

Ella chuckled. “Okay.”

She stood and left Lyss alone to rest. Ella wandered into the kitchen to find Liam and Drake as they stared into a large pot of broth.

“Is she asleep?” Drake asked while he stirred.

“Yep, she’s passed out,” Ella peered into the pot. “You need to add more onions.”

Drake tasted the broth again and shrugged. “Okay, more onions it is.”

Liam handed Drake the bowl of green onions. “So, what do you have planned for her birthday? Are you proposing yet?”

“I had planned to take her to the park and have a picnic,” Drake paused as he tasted the broth again from the ladle. “But seeing as how she’s not wanting to leave the bedroom, I might have to rethink my plan.”

“Hmmm,” Liam tapped his fingers over his mouth. “Why don’t you just have a picnic in the bedroom with her?”

“I guess,” Drake frowned. “That’s not very romantic.”

“You’re trying to be romantic, Walker?” Leo said as he walked into the kitchen with Maxwell with several bags from Nordstrom.

“Yeah, I am, if you must know.”

“I can help you out!” Leo’s wide grin made Drake narrow his eyes.

“What’s in it for you, Rys?”

“Oh, I just love helping my friends! Let me put all my stuff down in the bedroom, I’ll be right back.”

As soon as Leo was out of earshot, Drake hissed. “I don’t trust him!”

“I know,” Max replied. “It’s Leo we’re talking about. After he saw the movie Titanic he started the Billy Zane fan club.”

Ella stopped washing the dishes in the sink and turned. “Wait, what?!”

“Yeah,” Liam added. “Look it up, they’re called the Zaniacs.”

“Why does that make me angrier than anything he’s ever done?!”

Liam shrugged. “He also roots for Billy Zabka’s character in The Karate Kid.”

“Alright, guys! It’s romance time!” Leo announced as he came back to the kitchen.

Three days later

Leo, Maxwell, and Liam were busy setting up things for Drake and Alyssa’s outing at the beach.

“Why is Ella not helping us?” Maxwell huffed as he and Leo carried large boxes of twinkling lights.

“She’s here for Lyss, and to make sure Walker doesn’t sweat too much and get dehydrated,” Leo laughed as all three looked at Drake in the kitchen pacing back and forth.

“Fuck you guys,” his chocolate brown hair a mess after running his fingers through them more times than he can count. “I’m just … nervous.”

“Yeah, we can see that,“ Leo cackled as they walked out into the hallway and waited for the elevator.

“It’s going to work,” Liam reassured his best friend as he grabbed the guitar by the door and followed Max and Leo out.

“Drake, it’s going to be fine,” Ella put her hands on his shoulders to stop him from wandering around the kitchen; it was making her dizzy. “Liam is the King of Romance. Don’t listen to Leo, Alyssa is going to say yes.”

“How do you know that?” He began to babble and couldn’t stop himself. “What if this is too soon? What if she hates my singing? What if she says no?”

“You should be worried about whether she’ll get out of bed,” Ella looked towards the bedroom door.

“Oh my God, is she still in bed?!” He inhaled too quickly and began to cough.

“Okay, Walker, I was kidding. You know she adores you. She said ‘I love you’ first for crying out loud,” she gave him a concerned look. “Are you getting sick?”

“No, I don’t … get sick,” he sputtered as he continued to cough.

“Well you are pretty delicate, maybe you should slow down.”

He waved off her comment as his coughs began to dissipate. “I’m not delicate, I’m just” - he lowered his voice to a whisper yell - “proposing to my girlfriend and I don’t even know if she’s going to like this damn plan!”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Okay, so let’s just forget that you got sick watching Frozen.”

Drake glared. “No. I did not.”

“You also got a nosebleed watching Up,” she smirked.

“Oh my God, will you ever let that go?!”

Ella let out a chuckle. “Okay, fine then, why don’t you go and take a shower?”

“I already did,” Drake looked down at his sweat-stained shirt.

“Yeah, why don’t you go and take another one.”

He nodded. “Be right back.”

30 minutes later

“El! I need help!”

“Lyssa? What’s wrong?” Ella let herself into the bedroom Alyssa and Drake shared.

“My sinuses hurt and I dropped my dress and my book on the floor.”

“Okay?”

“Can you pick it up for me? It hurts to bend over.”

Ella hid a smile and bent to pick up Alyssa’s black dress and her book titled Remember Two Things. “I’ve been meaning to read this, how is it so far?”

“Oh it is so good,” Lyss put the book on her nightstand and pulled the dress over her head. “I’m at chapter 18 and these two have been in love since college-”

“No spoilers! I’m going to read it after you,” Ella found Lyss’ shoes under the bed and helped her put them on. “You take that medication I gave you?”

“The pill was too big.”

“Alyssa!”

“I’m kidding, yes, I took it,” she dimpled. “It was a gel capsule.”

Ella let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. You don’t need your sinuses to act up while you’re out.”

“Where is he taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Alyssa pouted. “No, I don’t.”

Drake appeared in the doorway with a brand new shirt that was miraculously dry. “Ready baby?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” she stood and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “Thank you for helping me!”

Ella shooed the couple out the door and quickly called Liam to let them know they were on their way.

***

“Baby, why did you take another shower?” Alyssa eyed Drake’s damp hair.

“I … slipped in something Max spilled on the floor in the kitchen.” Fuck, I suck at lying.

“Oh,” Lyss chewed on her bottom lip and studied Drake’s side profile as he drove his truck through the streets of Los Angeles. “I was thinking … you’ve taken such good care of me while I’ve been whiny and sick and I wanted to thank you.”

“Of course, I care about you.”

“I love you, baby, I feel like we’re so good together.”

“We are, Lyss, I love you too,” he reached over and intertwined his fingers with hers.

Drake slowly pulled the truck into a parking spot and turned off the engine. “Come on, I have something I want to show you.”

Alyssa nodded. She hopped out of the car and took Drake’s outstretched hand as he led her into a walkway with arching shrubs above them. “What is this place?”

“It used to be a secret spot I went to when I was single,” he glanced down at her while she stared up at the greenery in awe. “I would just come down here to be alone.”

Suddenly, the archway lit up in thousands of little twinkling lights that illuminated their way down to the end of the walkway. “Oh my God,” Alyssa squealed. “I love this so much, it’s beautiful!” They came to the end of the lights and began to walk onto sand.

“Only a little bit further,” Drake mumbled as he took in the ocean, then focused his gaze on the large purple blanket that was sprawled out on the sand a few yards in front of them.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a little picnic the guys set up for us,” he gave Alyssa a nervous smile. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes! What’s for dinner?”

“Taco pizza and for dessert,” Drake excitedly climbed onto the blanket after removing his shoes. “S’mores brownie pie.”

“S’mores?!” Alyssa peeked into the large basket that held the pie. “Can we eat dessert first?”

Drake let out a loud laugh. “Whatever you want, baby it’s your birthday.”

Lyss opened the box where the taco pizza sat and she inhaled deeply. “Oh, no, we’re eating this first.” She grabbed a plate and separated two pieces, one for her, one for Drake.

“Thank you.”

They settled into a comfortable silence as they watched the waves cascade over the sand; the sun was slowly fading, disappearing behind the ocean, leaving its yellow-orange coloring over the blue hue of the water. Alyssa was sitting in between Drake’s legs, her back against his chest.

“This hit the spot,” she patted her stomach. “Taco pizza just like in Remember Two Things.”

“That’s where I got the idea from,” he kissed her on top of her head. “You told me how taco pizza sounded amazing and I had to get that for you.”

“You are amazing,” she leaned her head back and touched her lips to his. “Is that a guitar? Why didn’t I notice that before?”

Drake’s face turned a bright shade of red. “Uh, yeah, I had Liam bring his guitar out here.”

“Do you” - she pulled away from him and turned all the way around with widened eyes - “do you play guitar, baby?”

He nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I … Well, sort of. Liam taught me when we were teenagers.”

“That is so hot,” Lyss mumbled and she bit her bottom lip. “Will you play for me?”

Drake nodded. “Hopefully I’m not too rusty, it’s been years.”

“I know I will love it.”

Drake picked up the acoustic guitar behind him and began to tune it. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he went through each string and turned the knobs in turn. Alyssa watched as he dug into his jean pocket and pulled out a guitar pick. How is a man with a guitar so sexy?

“Here goes nothing.”

He strummed the guitar and smiled when it didn’t sound off-key. He took in a deep breath and began to sing.

Dancing in the dark, Middle of the night

Taking your heart, And holding it tight

Emotional touch, Touching my skin

And askin' you to do, What you've been doing

All over again

Alyssa was taken aback. She had no idea he played guitar or sang a note until today. Drake Walker singing country music just did something to her; not to mention the fact that she loved this song.

Oh, it's a beautiful thing, Don't think I can keep it all in

I just gotta let you know, What it is that won't let me go

She couldn’t stop herself, she started to sing along with him. It was a duet anyway.

It's your love, It just does something to me

It sends a shock right through me, I can't get enough

And if you wonder, About the spell I'm under

Oh it's your love

Their eyes were locked as they sang together. Alyssa harmonizing with him made his stomach do flip flops. He was a nervous wreck just thinking about singing and playing this damn guitar in front of her. But once she started to sing, he wanted to stop so he could hear her angelic voice instead of his rough one.

“Drake?”

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize I stopped.”

“That was so beautiful,” Lyss’ eyes were full of unshed tears. “I had no idea you could sing, baby.”

“I’m sorry I stopped, I wanted to hear your voice instead of mine.”

“Come on, let’s keep going!”

“I … I wanted to ask you something first.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

He set the guitar down on the blanket next to him and reached into his other pocket. “Lyssa,” he pulled out a black velvet box but didn’t open his hand just yet. “I wanted to make your birthday special, and I was so fucking nervous because I didn’t know if you’d like all this.”

“Anything we do together I love, baby,” she grasped his free hand with both of hers. “Don’t ever think I won’t like something you plan for us.”

Drake nodded. “I love you and I chose that song because it’s your love that keeps me wanting to wake up every morning,” he opened his left hand and she saw the box in his hand.

“Is that …”

“Alyssa Devereaux,” Drake opened the ring box and there sat three round diamonds on a gold setting. “Will you marry me?”

The tears were falling and one hand was clamped over her mouth in shock. She was crying so hard and overwhelmed with so much emotion that she struggled to speak. “Y-yes, Drake, yes!”

Drake’s entire face lit up at her words; he slid the ring on her finger and leaned over to kiss her. “Do you have any idea how happy you’ve made me?”

Cheers erupted from behind some bushes behind them, and the couple turned in surprise. Leo, Maxwell, Liam, and Ella jumped out, all with their phone cameras pointed in Drake and Lyss’s direction.

Drake scowled. “What the fuck?”

“Guys!” Alyssa jumped up and waved her left hand in the air. “We’re engaged!” Ella pulled her in for a big hug and the two of them began jumping up and down.

“Nice going, Walker,” Leo smirked as he shoved the last piece of taco pizza in his mouth. “You still sing real pretty too, just like in middle school.”

“Fuck off, Rys,” Drake snarled.

“You did good, brother,” Liam stepped forward and pulled his best friend in for a manly hug.

Drake gave him a half-smile. “Thanks for setting this up, and for all your help, Li. I know Twiddle-Dumb and Twiddle-Dee didn’t help much.”

Liam shrugged. “They picked up your pizza and pie. Got one for themselves while we were waiting for you to pop the question.”

“Taco pizza is the bomb,” Maxwell announced with a mouth full of food. “You guys are engaged! When’s the wedding?!”

“We’re still on cloud nine from being engaged, Max,” Alyssa chuckled. “We’ll all plan it out when we’re ready.”

“All of them?” Drake asked incredulously as the gang began to clean up the picnic area. “All of them are helping us plan?”

“You’re stuck with us forever, gorgeous,” Leo called out to Lyss. “You sure that’s what you want?”

Alyssa looked over at her fiancé, who just so happened to look at her. “I am so sure.”

[apoptoses]

Just when I thought I had my Top 5 @apoptoses smut scenes SET IN STONE (a solid top 5 at least), you post the second chapter of Come Get Your Knife and turn my whole world upside down!!! Where to even BEGIN here jfccc

1. That blowjob scene at the beginning, so stupid hot and we were like 5 paragraphs in lmao insane 😭and then their conversation right after that, with Armand clinging to Daniel’s tigh and then going to the bathroom to spit out his cum without Daniel knowing. Armand would 100% swallow and then not tell Daniel it can’t actually stay in his system for long lmfao I love him sm

2. Daniel putting a hand on Armand’s exposed waist in the kitchen and Armand lowkey losing his mind over it yes GOOD

3. THE PLAY WRESTLING ON THE COUCH MY BELOVED. they totally still do this at home btw it’s just way more competitive now that Daniel actually has a shot.

4. Armand wearing Daniel’s hoodie and then trying to pass it off as an accident when Daniel noticed 🥹

5. “There were all sorts of ways Armand adored seeing him- half awake and grumbling in the evening, tipsy and hanging off his arm. Bright eyed and enthusiastic about the film they’d just seen. But Armand thought this was one of them that he loved best. Daniel loose limbed and eager to get close to him, with that hint of mischief in his eye.” GIVE HER THE PULITZER 👏 😤 And then Daniel blowing smoke into Armand’s mouth!! 🥵 still losing my mind over it.

6. the fingering bit aka the star of the fucking show. I had to pause like three times while reading it lol I didn’t want it to end and needed to drag it out for as long as possible 🥹 idk if we’ve talked about this before but like... Daniel fingering Armand is one of those things I consider 100% canon lmao. I mean it makes perfect sense ("every inch of his body" etc) and of course Daniel felt curious enough to try it and of course Armand let him. so if a fic includes a fingering bit I have to read it lmao regardless of the circumstances/plot/setting idc I’m giving it a go. But some of the ones I’ve read have been like... unnecessarily aggressive? still hot, don’t get me wrong, but they were basically about Daniel wanting to be as rough as possible because Armand didn’t feel much anyway/could take it and Daniel got off on it. just aggressive in ways I don’t think it ever was between them during their most intimate moments. Daniel is a passionate lover yes but he’s a gentle king first and foremost, and he cares so much about Armand’s pleasure, and you captured that so perfectly. Armand coating Daniel’s fingers with his blood please  🥵 🥵  

I’ll stop now before I get carried away but know that I’m still very much obsessed!!! xoxo DA

DA I've missed you!!

Lord I have so many obscene thoughts on Armand and Daniel's come haha Like absolutely he would swallow despite what the vampire body can or cannot consume. Absolutely he would let Daniel come inside him and walk home to his hiding place and go to sleep with that in him, because that part of his body is useless now! It's just a receptacle for Daniel's messes and he's a little freak who would want to keep part of Daniel inside him in more ways than one (which I discuss in an upcoming wip)

haha I forgot I had that in there but that's a domestic thing I think about all the time with them. Like, little touches that make them both insane but especially when Armand is the receiver of those touches. It's intimacy he's never had before!

YES like even if Daniel doesn't 100% equal him in strength after he's turned Armand would be so overwhelmed and caught off guard that Daniel would win just by sheer virtue of getting him worked up over having his wrists pinned (I might also have this in a wip oops)

Daniel, deep down, knows it was no accident 🥹

🥹🥹🥹 listen Armand loves when Daniel is being a little shit, he's beseeching and demanding and that's why he liked him in the first place! He's found the man who is the same flavor of randy pain in the ass as him 🥹

HELLO I love a gentle overwhelming fingering for Armand and I think it was you who gave me the idea of Daniel teaching Armand dirty talk? So like I wrote that and you'll be happy to know that specific act occurs in there too. But YEAH I think Armand can feel a lot if he lets himself and gentleness gets him out of his mind better than roughness, so just Daniel's long fingers are perfect for him because like- that's ALL about him, you know? Being fucked is mutual pleasure, getting touched with hands/someone's mouth is more hedonistic, and he deserves hedonism ♥

Hey, because I love you, here's a fingering preview treat for you (this will go up for kink week for impact play day)

“What would you call this part of you?” Daniel asks.

He’s tracing over his entrance again with a slick finger, maddening slow circles. He presses firmly like he might slip his finger inside and then pulls it away and starts the whole process over again.

Armand’s brain feels like the eggs he makes Daniel for breakfast, a sloppy mess that’s liable to run out his ears and stain the blanket with the way Daniel has taken him apart. He’s so thirsty his veins seem to have constricted with their demand for blood. Everything in him feels drawn too tight.

“I only know the clinical term,” Armand finally manages to admit.

Daniel’s finger slips inside him in one slick motion. It’s humiliating how Armand’s body doesn’t even resist it. Even the most dead, useless parts of him are desperate for sensation.

Or maybe just desperate for Daniel. Armand has the delirious thought that if this part of him has no purpose then Daniel could stay inside him forever, could live in his body and become part of him.

“You’re tight. Sometimes I wonder if that’s because you’re so clenched up all the time or if it’s just because you’re dead, and I’m the only person who uses this part of you,” Daniel says absently, like he’s saying these things to himself. As if Armand isn’t even in the room, he’s just a toy to be played with and not acknowledged. “I’d ask if you like having something in your hole but then the way you keep lifting your hips up like a slut answers that question for me, doesn’t it?”

“Daniel-“

The word comes out in a ragged rush of breath. Armand’s been called names before. Words meant to humiliate, to shame. But coming from Daniel it’s different. It sounds loving, like Daniel has stared down into his soul and seen him for the needy thing he is and adores him for it. Daniel, whose hand keeps stroking his lower back as his finger sinks in deeper, deeper. Armand feels the bumps of his knuckles, the stretch as his finger grows wider closer to his palm. And then it’s all the way in, rubbing at his insides while he struggles for air.

Daniel is always good at this. He’s always got this gentle way with his hands, a light touch that leaves Armand aching for more. Immortal flesh is sensitive- Armand has never told him that, he’s just picked it up on his own. And so he knows exactly how to rub teasing circles into his insides. How to drag his finger in and out so slow Armand thinks he’s about to sob with it. It’s only his index finger and that’s all it takes to have him come undone.

His finger presses all the way in, curls at just the right angle to make Armand make a choked off sound; something halfway between a moan and repeating Daniel’s name. Armand lifts his hips. Shameless, he spreads his thighs and arches his back in his silent demand for more.

“Hm? Is there something you need?” Daniel asks. 

xoxo ♥

[redbullseb]

Let's have a collective breakdown over white man I want to fuck and steal gender from, the one and only Frank Iero.

-vettelsbitch

THANK U <3 last but certainly not least!!! the love of my life ever, the one and only man on earth i would genuinely do anything for <3 you might think i love seb a lot but buddy you'd be wrong because this man is my numero uno my main bitch the source of happiness and pain th-- [gets shot]

(and my final essay of the night before i dip bc i have ppl over! thank u all for playing!)

pencey prep: what's his shirt made of? boyfriend material. he's my dorky feral punk bf who my parents don't want me seeing but i sneak out at night to go to basement concerts with him and make out with him under the cover of darkness. that's his vibe.

bullets: zooms in with a camcorder THAT'S HIM. our sweet baby. desperately trying to keep clean and sanitary in a van next to gerard stinky way. glue dreads. psychology to art major at rutgers. he's the baby ever he's so unhinged it hurts

revenge: GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! IF LOVE IS BLIND CROSS OUT MY EYES I DON'T MIND AT ALL!!!!!! im so care he this is my FAVOURITE frank. red eyeshadow skunk hair Xs over his eyes pansy my beloved!!! i don't even have words in the english language to express the place that revenge frank holds in my heart he is just special he is my little meow meow i don't know if i want to be him or if i want to date him

tbp: that behind-the-scenes vid of the wttbp mv where he puts his finger up to his nose like it's a moustache. Yeah <3

prorev frank specifically: GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! GENDER! HORNY FERAL SO HORNY SO FERAL BITING A CONDOM ON STAGE FUCKING HIS GUITAR BEING A PUBLIC NUISANCE CAN YOU BELIIEVVEEE THIS MAN WAS MARRIED???????????

leathermouth: the way he was like "i don't have to be nice" shut up and scream bitch boy <3 leviathan is the rating here. i can't breathe when i'm getting pegged or whatever lm frank said

des row: his constant spit fountains also the end of the vid where he sticks his tongue out wehjkfhgkljdfgj acab, baby.

danger days: i got the gif off gfycat oops idk the creator but HELLO????????????? HEEELLLLOOOOOOOO?????????? there's also this one vid of destroya live and the way frank plays the outro is so. tender and h word and HSDHGJDKFGKJFDKHADHGHGFHDHG THIS MAN.

cellabration: joyriding vid is like my comfort mv ever i just love my boy covered in mint-flavoured blood ok!!!!!!!!!!! wehdflkfjg there's one vid where his kids come on stage to sing and he cuts out the line about wanting to die with the cutest most sheepish smile on his face and he is so CUTEEEEEEE idk if it's actually cellabration era but he's like in his metamorphosis stage where he's happy and surrounding himself by good non-toxic people and esp after how fucking depressing his ftw/skeleton crew era was this is like one of my fave things and stomachaches is an About Me album bhdfgbhdbfgjhbdf oop

parachutes: this era was especially terrifying with That Incident. wehwehhdfhg i fucking love this album and his promo photoshoot though like he's just! dilf!

death spells: A FRANK I HOLD SO VERY DEAR TO MY HEART but fuck james he can burn in hell. anyway he's soo funky he's so short so interesting that one part in fantastic bastards where he's like "i'm a mess when we touch" and the crowd always screams "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" also SHOEBOX FRANK both at skate n surf festival and that one show we have hd pics for bc he's too short to reach his setup and he's so fucking emo (he fell apart) and like ftwillz energy off the fucking chain AM I MAKING SENSE? IS THIS COMPREHENSIBLE? brain empty just death spells fav fav fav fav fav

violents/violence: it broke my heart when he was like "i was never able to write a happy song until barriers" but DO YOU SEE HOW HAPPY HE IS THESE DAYS? HE'S JUST VIBING WITH HIS KIDS AND RESCUING TURTLES AND DECORATING PANSY WITH HIS FOOTBALL MERCH AND IN THE CREATIVE POCKET AND HE'S LESBIAN IN THE UNCLASSICAL SENSE AND HE'S TRENDED FOR DYING HIS HAIR AND HE GOT A NEW PHONE BUT CAN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO TALK TO HIS FRIENDS HE WENT ON "TOUR" WITH HIS KIDS AND LET HIS SON MAKE SOUNDS AND CALLED IT ALL MUSIC AND HE SAW THE BLACK WIDOW TODAY HE'S SO ANNOYING HE'S SO DILF IT'S FUCKING CRAZY jamia puts up with SOOOO much bless her soul i fucking love him. so much i think i'm tearinng up a little he means everything to me this parasocial relationship is the unhealthiest thing and i'm mad at him all the fucking time but i'm never getting over him ever okay bye

[hurting-fictional-people]

A Theft Gone Wrong

I started writing this last night, expecting it to be really short, but it endend up longer then I expected... oops

I don’t know, I have never posted something like this before so if you like it please let me know, I kind of have more ideas for this but don’t know if anyone would like to read it... Spoiler alert: It’s about a thief getting caught and not realizing how dangerous her captor really is. Also, as I haven’t posted something this long before I have never had to tag it, so let me know if I do it wrong or forget something!

Warnings: manhandeling, kind of a creepy and intimate whumper, noncon touching, murder (of very minor characters and only vaguely mentioned), mention of the death of beloved people, choking 

She leaned against the wall, her body relaxed and her eyelids almost closed, the living image of someone who had had way too many drinks.

The prince, on the other side of the ballroom, eyed her carefully, his gaze never leaving her even as he danced with other women. She let her body move along with the song, praying silently that he would believe her facade. Any other day and she might have enjoyed the attention of a royal, especially such a handsome and powerful one – it never got tiring to use a noble as she wanted and then watch their shocked faces when she just walked away satisfied and with a few more jewels that she would sell as soon as she could. That night, though, the only thing the prince made her feel was exasperation. She knew she looked pretty, especially with so much makeup and such a beautiful dress, but she was definitely not flirting with him, so why couldn’t he just stop staring?

She waited until he was talking to a guard, and as soon as he took his eyes away from her, she moved as silently as a shadow, disappearing in the dark corners of the ballroom, all of her drunk act left behind as she moved swiftly through the crowd.

If her comrades had done their job, the palace aisles should be empty, and all the guards worried about an invasion on the other side of the castle.

She made it to the second floor of the palace without seeing another soul and grinned wickedly as she hurried. 

Stupid royals and their arrogance, so sure that no one would dare touch their belongings they didn’t even leave a guard near their wealth.

The thief had already laid her eyes on the royal vault when she was suddenly pulled to the side, but when her training kicked in and she started to fight the hand that held her waist tightly and pressed her against a hard body, she felt the cold and sharp point of a knife touching her throat, so close to her skin that if she tried to do so much as taking a deep breath, she would cut herself.

She froze, her body going rigid in an instant.

“What is such a lovely thing doing wandering around my palace?” Murmured a husky voice so close to her ear that she felt the air that left his mouth against her skin.

She couldn’t answer, not with the knife so close.

“I’ve been watching you all night”, he said, the hand at her waist pulling her even closer to him. She could feel the prince’s entire body as she tried to lift her chin away from the knife “ah, ah, ah, stay still or I might cut this pretty throat of yours accidentally, and neither of us wants that now, do we, dear?”.

She held herself as still as she could. Not that there was any other option.

“You see, I thought you were just a simple, albeit incredibly beautiful, peasant. You would have been fun to play with like that, of course, but you have proven to be so much more interesting now” his breath was making her cheek tickle, and every part of his body that touched hers only gave her rage more fuel. As soon as she had even the slightest opening, she would not hesitate to open his throat with his own knife. Prince or not, no one touched or talked to her like that and lived. Nobody was crazy enough to do it anyway.

The prince seemed to feel her hatred, because he held her tighter still, until it started hurting and she knew she would have bruises in the morning.

Everyone knew the rumors about the prince’s cruelty, but she had never thought he also had a death wish. An enraged growl escaped her lips, and he laughed.

“Oh sweet thing, I love you already”, she locked her jaw and pictured him dead as he would be in a few minutes to try and calm down. He didn’t seem to sense that thought. “So, back to what I was saying… There would be absolutely no reason for a girl like you to be here in front of my vault in the middle of my ball. That is, unless you are one of the criminals that were wreaking havoc on the other side of the palace until my guards slaughtered them all”.

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. Her head started spinning and her heart started racing as it hadn’t up until now.

No, that couldn’t be true. He could not have killed all her friends. There were at least twenty of the most talented thieves and assassins of the Guild there. There was absolutely no way they were all dead. Many of them had trained her, laughed with her, been her only family. But, then, how could the prince know about their attack if it weren’t true?

“Oh, they were your friends?” He asked, his voice filled with mock concern “I would say I am sorry for your loss, but that would be too big of a lie even for me”.

She couldn’t breathe. There was not enough air in the world.

They were dead. All the people who had loved her, who she loved, they were gone, and their assassin had a knife against her throat. She couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t, not until she saw their bodies. They were too good to have been killed like that. They could not be dead, she told herself, hoping she would believe it if she thought it fiercely enough.

She would destroy the prince for that, and she would do it slowly, painfully.

“If you keep trembling like that, love, you’re going to cut yourself” the prince warned, rubbing his smooth jaw against her hair. The thief didn’t even realize she was shivering until he said it. She wanted to vomit almost as bad as she wanted to see him bleed “Now, I’m getting tired of holding you here. Don’t get me wrong, my beautiful little thief, I love having you this close, but I have a ball to host”. She could almost hear his screams while she destroyed him bit by bit. He leaned closer to her, his mouth touching her temple as he spoke “Before I go, I feel we should clarify some things. All your friends are dead. I killed them. You, though, are so very lucky, because I like you. I could have you killed right here, or send you to jail for a lifetime sentence, but I am feeling merciful tonight. I’m going to save your life and claim you as mine. You belong to me now, darling, and no one is going to come looking for you, not that that would make any difference. We are going to have so much fun together. Or at least, I am”.

He laughed again, and that sound made her growl once more. The man was crazy, and she was tired of that too. But precisely when she began changing her stance to turn around and break free of his hold, the prince whistled, and ten guards showed up from around the corner. And then, ten more appeared from the other side.

“Hurt me and they will kill you before you can blink” the prince promised against her ear.

He pushed her at the same time he removed the knife from her throat, leaving a thin slice where the weapon stood a moment before. The thief tripped forward, and the only thing avoiding her falling on her face was the years of hard training.

She barely had time to prepare before the first guard attacked. She pulled free the dagger she had sheathed to her tight, cursing herself for bringing only one. She had not expected to fight that night, and even though her gown was flowy around her legs, it was definitely not appropriate for a fight.

She was a good fighter. She had killed people before and didn’t really have a problem with it. But even as she attacked guards and ducked their blows, she knew she could never win against twenty trained warriors. That didn’t stop her from fighting with all of her rage, slicing whatever body parts came near her.

She took the lives of two of the guards before three of them caught her from behind, and wounded at least five more before they disarmed her. She only stopped thrashing and kicking when there were four men holding her and six more around them ready to stop her if she somehow got away. Tired and shocked, she grinned wildly and with not an ounce of joy when she looked at them, showing bloodied teeth. She had been punched and bit her tongue at some point while they fought. They all held the same haunted expression as if they didn’t expect her to fight like that. Well, that was what grieve and rage did when mixed, she thought darkly. If only they knew that by now she was so exhausted she could barely stand they wouldn’t be so alert, but she was most definitely not telling them that.

She only remembered that the prince was still there when she heard someone clapping, and he showed up in front of her, smiling and looking very pleased.

“It’s going to be so much fun breaking such a wild thing”, he said. She took a deep breath, smirked, and spit right at his face. The prince’s eyes darkened as he cleaned his forehead with his long fingers.

“It’s going to be such a pleasure to open your throat from ear to ear and watch you choke on your own blood”, she said sweetly, the smirk still on her lips.

“You know what, love?” He said, taking a step towards her and stopping so close she could see his pupils expanding “I don’t think I’m going to be the one choking”.

As he spoke, he rounded her throat with his hands. She tried to pull away, but before she could move, he squeezed, and then she couldn’t breathe. As she struggled and convulsed, trying to escape, he started grinning, the smile growing along with her despair.

She couldn’t breathe she couldn’t breathe she couldn’t breathe

“You see now, love, who is choking? Don’t worry, you will learn to respect me and to be good. I’ll teach you. Oh, your eyes look so pretty when you are scared. It’s a pity we can’t play more right now. But worry not, I will come to you as soon as I can”.

She felt tears falling from her eyes, but there was no more strength in her to fight them. The world started to darken, and her body stopped responding to her.

The last thing she heard before she passed out was that awful, disgusting husky voice of the prince. “Take her to my room and tie her up. We are going to spend some quality time together later” he laughed, and then the world went black.

[bristolsketches]

Ok so I forgot to post this a month ago BUT here are some numbers highlights from my The Untamed rewatch #4:

WWX passes out/collapses a total of 14 times (2 of which he was already sitting down) and LZ catches him a total of 7 out of those 14 times. I’m a little disappointed bc I thought it would be more?? I guess most of the catching didn’t happen until post-episode 33 anyway so LZ gets a pass on this one

Shijie makes soup 10 times, implying that Wow that is a lot of Major Arguments for WWX and JC and also Wow that is a Lot of Love To Give

LXC Meddles 8 times (“meddling” here defined as actively working towards Getting WWX And LWJ Together and not just giving a Knowing Smirk^TM when they do something Particularly Gay, examples include “oh hey WWX I see that you have injuries, why don’t you go soak in the cold springs for a bit? Oh, I see my brother is ALSO soaking in the cold springs at this very moment while very completely shirtless?? I had absolutely no idea, none at all” or “hm little bro I think it’s about time you make some friends let’s herd WWX towards you At All Times and make Subtle Hints that I Approve This Match. Look, I will even Smile In Amusement as you Clench Your Sword And Walk Away In Anger At This Suggestion” or “ok so I KNOW I’m not supposed to hide fugitives in Cloud Recesses much less the fugitive known as the Yiling Patriarch BUT I will make an exception for you because of my brother’s Undying Love And Devotion. Oh did I say that I not only allowed him to bring you back but that I mayhaps have even been the one to suggest it in the first place??? Oops, well, make of that what you will”)

Blood was spat by a main character (read: someone who has a name) a total of 47 times. That’s almost once an episode if you average it out. Less than I expected for a cdrama but still rather impressive tbh. Note: if it happened multiple times throughout the show via flashbacks I only counted it once because technically it would only be One Event of Blood Spitting

In episode 8 Lan Zhan says “wu liao” 3 times in like 5 minutes and honestly mood, that’s also how I, another Disaster Gay, would respond to my crush flirting flitting around me like a gnat

Wuji plays a total of 77 times (67 times in the background, 10 times in-show aka LZ and/or WWX are playing/singing it)*

In episode 29 Wuji plays a total of five times including one time Full Version which is what I’m calling the version that plays in the credits with Full Vocals and Maximum Romance

In episodes 13 and 35 and 43 Wuji plays three times in a row ???? Wow when the song isn’t enough to cover the whole length of the Tenderness WWX and LZ are Emitting Towards Each Other so they just have to loop it

In episode 43, including the three-times-in-a-row during the snow scene, Wuji plays a whopping total of eight (8) times!!!! Excluding intro/outro the episodes are only like 40 mins long!!!! What!!!

In episode 50 Wuji plays only 7 times* which is less times than in episode 43 BUT it includes an astounding THREE TIMES with Full Vocals and Maximum Romance and tbh I think that in itself gives it the win. The Barrage of Wuji in the last half of the episode simply Cannot Be Matched

*Honestly the count of 7 times might be a little off (and therefore the total count of 77 might also be a little off) because it played So Many Times In A Row towards the end of episode 50 and I simply Could Not Handle It

Note: it was Too Much for me to also count the Number Of Times LXC Sighs And Closes His Eyes and also the Number Of Angry Fist Clenches during this one rewatch because honestly keeping track of Wuji itself was quite a feat BUT I will probably be doing a fifth rewatch at some point and will update this list accordingly. I did also start counting the number of times JC Rolls His Eyes but that was just like. Every time he blinked. So I did not end up also counting the number of JC Eye Rolls unfortunately

[hoodoo12]

Roses and Rot

This is based of a loose prompt: “Jealous and possessive Keatlejuice where the boy goes feral”. My pals @vicunaburger (Last Train Home)and @clairjohnson (Night Out) also wrote for this prompt; go check them and their fine stories out!

NSFW. Possessiveness, extreme violence and gore, smut, minor bondage, dub-con. This is a darkfic.

~

There hadn’t been any sound. No warning, and that was the scariest thing of all. There was some asshole douchebag who’d been catcalling you and who jogged after you down the sidewalk, even though you’d made it plainly clear you wanted nothing to do with him. The guy had the balls to grab your shoulder, and that was the end.

He’d been torn away from you so abruptly you’d been jerked back too, stumbling and losing your balance. You shouted, because you’d first thought the guy had done it himself, but when you gathered your wits your shout died in your throat at the sight that met your eyes. The douchebag was on his back and screaming, although his voice also went the way of yours. For a different reason, however: it was hard to scream when there was no breath capable of being drawn after the hand shoved in his gut ruptured his diaphragm and was now elbow deep into his chest. “Heart’s still beatin’. Pity,” Beetlejuice laughed. “Not for long though, buddy.” Straddling the man’s legs like they were wrestling or they were lovers, he extracted his hand slowly, like that would be a kindness to make it hurt less. When just his hand was still inside, he cocked his head. “I think that’s your liver. Spleen feels a little less smooth, an’ if I’d gone through it--whoa! You’d have bleed out way too soon! Oops, looks like my damn ring is caught on something--”

With a more violent jerk than maybe needed to happen, he yanked his hand out of the guy with the thickest wet sound you’d ever heard. You retched involuntarily as Beetlejuice examined what looked like a rope of intestine in his hand. Your gag caught his attention. Quick as a snake, he looked up and caught your eyes. Typically pale blue, his eyes were blown dark with what you would have classified as arousal, except he was drenched in blood and was pawing through a person’s innards like picking up candy from a destroyed pinata. Beetlejuice grinned ferally at you, licking his teeth. He seemed to realize he’d gotten some blood sprayed onto his chin, because he licked further down to remove it. You weren’t sure what to think. Or say. Or do. You felt frozen, a rabbit, pinned by a predator’s gaze. Your choices were to not move and maybe he’d ignore you, or run and hope he was having too much fun with the soon-to-be corpse under him. “What’s the matter baby?” he said with much too much amusement in his voice. “I did this for you.” You could barely wrap your head around that, and you shook your head slightly because of it. The amusement on his face melted to a scowl, and you flinched. Luckily, Beetlejuice seemed to believe it was due to the man twitching and still trying to draw breath underneath him. He turned ferociously back to him. “You fuckin’ cocksucker--you apologize to the lady!” he spit, literally, in the dying man’s face. 

It was unfathomable to you the amount of pain and shock the guy must be in, with his guts systematically being pulled from the hole Beetlejuice put in him. When he didn’t respond to the order that had been given to him, the specter snarled and used his unoccupied hand to grab the guy’s chin to twist his head up and over awkwardly to look at you. “Fucking apologize,” he demanded again. He held on with so much force his nails cut into the man’s cheeks. The guy who may or may not have assaulted you given the chance, whose only ‘crime’ was being a prick in public and daring to lay a hand on you, managed to raise his eyes enough to meet yours. He was crying, but still no real noise came from him; collapsed lungs didn’t provide enough air to pass through vocal cords. He wheezed, a little. 

Beetlejuice cranked his head back to a more proper position. “That’s much better,” he said brightly, like a teacher praising a pupil that finally understood something complex. “I’m sure you’ll never do anything like that again, will you?” The guy wheezed again, and you could see that his tears made clean tracks through the blood on his face. “WILL YOU?!” Beetlejuice screamed suddenly, dropping his face within inches of the man. 

The guy still had enough strength to flinch. That made Beetlejuice laugh again, and he planted an opened-mouth kiss to the man’s mouth. It prevented you from seeing what his hands were doing, but you didn’t miss the specter sucking in like he was stealing the last of his victim’s breath. When he sat back up, a string of bloody saliva bridged between the two men’s lips. With one hand on the man’s chest and the other still running intestines through his fingers like fine silk, Beetlejuice cocked his head. “Heart’s giving out, buddy. Maybe, if I’m quick--” And again, with no warning, he torn into the man’s torso with a frenzy. You’d never known how strong he was; you’d never considered how strong he was, but skin and muscle split and ribs were cracked, and before you even had the chance to look away, Beetlejuice had his prize: exposure of the guy’s heart, still in his ruin of his chest, beating erratically from blood loss and rapidly dropping blood pressure. Beetlejuice looked up at you, gave you a wink, and gave the heart a vicious flick. Luckily the guy didn’t feel it; he was obviously dead. Hawking something up from the back of his throat, the specter spit a gob of mucus directly into the dead man’s open chest. You’d never seen someone die before. You’d never seen such frenzied carnage. If you could have torn your eyes away from the show of wanton destruction, you would have. You felt numb and shocky yourself, like you wanted to vomit and curl into a fetal position all at the same time. All your limbs were cold. The fact that it was done so casually, that Beetlejuice looked just as he’d always looked--grimy, moldy, the corners of his mouth always just about to turn up like he was always one step ahead of anyone else around--he didn’t look monstrous at all except that his favorite suit was now that start of a joke--what’s black and white and red all over--

--your thoughts felt fractured, a skipping record, and a giggle slipped out of you, less for amusement or approval and more because you had no reference on how to respond to any of this.

Beetlejuice took your giggle the wrong way, of course. In a flash, between one blink and the next, he was at your side, arms around your waist to hold you upright and against him. The blood soaked into his suit felt clammy and left smears on you. There was still a feral light in his eyes, and pressed this close, it wasn’t any secret he was aroused. “Nobody gets to touch you but me, baby,” he informed you. Just as he leaned down for a kiss that you dared not refuse him, he continued, “You’re mine.”

His mouth covered yours and you held your breath. The taste of him, damp soil with base notes of roses and rot, was familiar; the new flavor of iron from the residual blood on his face was not and you did not care for it much. Naturally, he didn’t care. While you squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to act too put off in case that made him angry, an odd pressure surrounded you and when he released you and you opened your eyes, you were back in your bedroom. You didn’t dare point out that if he could just remove you from the situation on the street he didn’t have to tear that guy apart. 

Wiping his thumb along his lower lip as he stared over you with hungry eyes, he repeated in a low voice, “You’re fucking mine,” as if you’d argued. 

He still seemed to think there was some disagreement, however, maybe because you were still shocky from the events and you weren’t as responsive as typical to his advances. He lifted his lips in what you thought was supposed to be a smile but came off more as a snarl. “Men. Always sniffin’ around, always thinkin’ they can touch whatever they want without consequences. Never thinkin’ that what they’re touchin’ might belong to someone else!” he ranted. This was not the time to try and educate him on the fact that the word “belong” was offensive and demeaned you into being property. 

He took a breath that you know was for show because he didn’t actually breathe any longer, and focused on you again. “I know you didn’t flirt with that guy, baby. I know you didn’t ask for him to follow you and touch you. He was just a prick who got his just reward. But I gotta say . . . seeing him try and get your attention . . . it got me a little possessive.” Once again you held your tongue, although that was damn obvious. You weren’t against possessiveness, per se, and had occasionally breathed into his ear that you only wanted him, you were his, those sentiments and the like slipping from your lips as he fucked himself into you, but this was a little more than typical. The standard thrill of his aggressive behavior was there, even if your pulse also pounded out of fear. Beetlejuice gave you a much softer smile, and it almost made you relax. When he stepped up to you again, however, the smile slipped and a rock settled in your gut because your subconscious better recognized the not so sweet intent behind him coming close again. He grabbed the back of your head, his ragged nails catching in your hair. That was not uncommon; his hand being tacky from mostly dried blood was. You gasped and automatically pulled your head back in response. That only made him laugh. “Gotta be a way to show assholes like that you’re mine--” he growled half to himself, but loud enough for your ears too. “Gonna show them you’re mine--”

With that, he spun you around. Off balance because you weren’t expecting it, you fell front first onto the mattress. Before you could twist or protest or anything, you found yourself without a stitch of clothing on; one of his ‘parlor tricks’ that sometimes you liked very much. A new element had been added, however: your arms stretched forward and wrists restrained with exactly what, you didn’t know. You didn’t keep any ties or shackles in your bedroom; there’d never been any talk of tying up or restraint--

“--gonna prove it, I know you know you’re mine, baby, but other people, other people need to know--”

His obsessive rambling didn’t calm you. He drew his tacky hands down your back to the swell of your ass, and he kicked open your legs, putting you in a more precarious position without your feet under you. You heard the soft noise of a zipper, even with both his hands still on you, spreading you open so your pussy was exposed. 

“--I’ll show ‘em, it’ll be a giant neon sign announcing to the world--”

You had no idea what he meant, but could only imagine it was some sort of other phasmagorical trick he could conjure. Maybe he’d brand you with his name? Maybe he’d claw you till you were bleeding, leaving scars which would give other people pause to even talk to you? His cold fingers dragged themselves through the folds of your pussy and automatically your back dipped to allow him better access. He chuckled through his word vomit and now the head of his cock, wider than his fingers, followed their same trail. You relaxed as best you could against the restraints stretching your arms, knowing what was coming next. With one hand still gripping your hip, when Beetlejuice found where he wanted to be he thrust forward and filled your cunt with one motion. With zero preparation and a slaughtering as foreplay, the friction was immense and you cried out. You’d fucked him often enough that he opened you up easily, and the tight drag and pull lit up your nerve endings anyway. Your cry of surprise that devolved into a moan made him chuckle again. The hand he’d used to hold the base of his cock while he seated himself inside you came up and slapped your ass more sharply than you expected and you jumped and yelped, which only spurred him on more. He did it again, this time spanking you lower on your ass. You felt the extra sting of his ring making heavy contact with the thin skin of your upper thigh. 

Through it, he fucked you at a blistering pace. 

You cried out with each thrust; you groaned each time he pulled back. You’d have reached behind yourself to grab at him, to hook your fingers into his waist, or slipped a hand under you to finger your own clit, but neither of those were options since he decided he wanted all the control himself. You had no choice but to enjoy the rough ride. Beetlejuice hadn’t stopped talking, although it was now interspersed with his own guttural groans. “--fuck-fuck-fuck, your fuckin’ cunt is the best, baby--it’s mine an’ I’m gonna make sure people fucking know it--”

Going to your tiptoes, even with your legs spread to accommodate him, helped tilt your pelvis so he managed to thrust against the perfect spot inside you, even if he didn’t do that on purpose. Drool made a wet spot under your cheek on the mattress, because he drove such pleasure into you it was difficult to remember to do something like close your mouth or swallow. “--gonna fucking fill you up, fuck! Gonna, gonna--” Beetlejuice leaned over you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. He hadn’t shed his clothing, you learned with a start, as the still damp-with-blood fabric of his jacket and shirt chaffed over your back. You wiggled more out of disgust than pleasure at the feeling of it, but he didn’t seem to recognize that subtle difference, or he didn’t care. He moved one hand to entangle itself into your hair again, to steady himself and stretch you back towards him. With his face now against your neck he grunted, “--gonna fill your cunt with come, baby--”

You gasped at those words, and he laughed again. “--oh, you like that? You like the idea of this dead guy’s come up in your pussy, smelling like me, huh? No one’d mess with you then, so full of rot--gonna flood your cunt--”

Was that even possible? Typically he liked to pull out and come on you, and yes it didn’t smell great but it was easily washed away. If he came in you, would the stench linger? The thought terrified you. The thought also excited you. You should be ashamed and alarmed, but just couldn’t be; him positioned on top of you, his cock still hammering into you, throwing sparks of bliss keep into your belly, promising that no one else would want you, you couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you and it was so, so good--

With a howl, you came around his cock, your pussy spasming even as he continued to thrust into you. He was still talking but your ears were ringing, and in another few moments, while you worked to catch your breath, Beetlejuice yanked your hair hard enough to make you cry out, and shoved his hips so hard into you it actually hurt, and groaned during his own release, deep inside you, just as he’d promised. 

He didn’t immediately pull out and roll off of you either, as typical. He stayed right where he was, rocking his hips through his orgasm as if actively working his come to where it needed to be to leave your pregnant. After several moments and slowly feeling like you were going to have to struggle to get him off you so you could draw a full breath, he pushed himself up and back. You heard him fiddling with his fly again, and wondered if he even dropped his trousers during at all. 

As his cock left you a gush of wet soaked you and the edge of the mattress. Beetlejuice grunted and shoved his fingers up against your pussy as if to push his come back in. You stretched and wiggled against the restraints on your wrists, and suddenly they were gone too.

You rolled over, not caring that whatever bloody mess he’d transferred to you would be on your bedding now. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel.

The specter still looked like he worked in a particularly unsanitary butcher shop. Instead of stripping or anything else remotely politely human, he dropped onto the bed bedside you and spooned into you, like all this had been normal.

“I fucked up, baby,” he whispered, to your amazement. 

Oh! Maybe he did see that he went overboard and unnecessary!

He sighed and kissed your shoulder. You felt the imprint of his teeth, but he didn’t bite you. In an even lower voice, he continued, “I should’ve kept that guy alive so he could’ve seen all that we just did there. Then I shoulda fuckin’ offed him.” You kept your mouth shut once again, and just lay with him like he wanted. 

fin

[rainwolfheart]

for the DWC: “If we don’t make it out alive, I’ll see you at the Maker’s side.” “Bold of you to assume you’re going there.” with a dash of mutual pining, Anders x Hamish Hawke?

thanks for the prompt! I wrote a lot more than I usually do for these :D here’s some fun act 1 pre-Handers, feat. the repetitive maps and hordes of baddies we all know and love from DA2 @dadrunkwriting

(also ended up more just Hawke pining than mutual oops)

rating: T trigger warnings: blood, canon-typical violence, kidnapping, mention of starvation, typical Kirkwall unsanitary conditions

-

All the warehouses in Kirkwall look the same. Which is unfortunate when one is trying to figure out where they are when one has been kidnapped.

“Who are you, again?” asks Hawke, when he’s finally freed from the sack over his head. “So many people seem to be angry at me, lately.” He remembers—he’s just being cheeky. The dwarf with the braided beard lets out a noise not unlike a growl.

“Athenril’s racked up quite the debt with the Dasher,” she says. “It’s time she pays. Or you do.”

“Have I mentioned I don’t work for Athenril anymore? I think I said it a few times, when you were tying me up back there.”

“I’m not here to ask questions,” spits the dwarf. Hawke rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. At least they gave him a wall to lean against. The other dwarf, the clean-shaven one, paces, coiling and uncoiling a length of rope. He’s impatient. Hawke notes this.

“Suppose Athenril prefers to let me stay here rather than bail me out. What will you do with me?” asks Hawke.

The bearded dwarf examines the blade of Hawke’s sword with a menacing grin. “Then we see if anyone else is willing to pay her debt.”

“And if not?”

“We ain’t gonna feed ya,” snaps the bare-faced dwarf. Hawke nods, satisfied with the answer.

“Well, this is fun. Got any good stories while we wait?”

They do not have any good stories, and neither do the other half-dozen Carta dwarves who pass through to check up on them. Hawke is usually bad with time, but helpfully, the impatient dwarf announces it every ten minutes or so to his compatriot, so Hawke knows it’s been precisely two hours and fifteen minutes by the time anyone shows up.

“Hi Hal!” says Bethany.

He would wave to them if his hands weren’t tied. Varric and Bianca are with her, which he expected, but they seem to have roped Anders into their rescue mission as well, which is a surprise. It’s also a relief to have another person on their side, because the moment Bianca starts firing and Bethany’s lightning starts crackling, many more Carta dwarves come out of the various side rooms.

“Thank the Maker you’re alright,” says Anders, as he rushes to Hawke’s side. He throws up a barrier to protect them both as he cuts through the ropes.

“I’m glad you found me,” says Hawke. He hisses as the blade slips, and Anders nicks his skin.

“Shit! Sorry!” Anders presses his palm to Hawke’s forearm, and the cut closes as quickly as it had opened. The dull ache and itchiness of the rope burns also fades. Anders lets go, but then offers his hand to help Hawke stand up. For a moment, Hawke wonders if Anders is casting another spell, but it’s just Hawke feeling clammy. He’s nervous, of all things, and from what? Briefly holding Anders’ hand?

Their hands brush again, briefly, as Anders hands him the dagger he used to cut the ropes. It’s not Hawke’s usual weapon of choice, but beggars can’t be choosers when they’ve been kidnapped.

“Thanks,” says Hawke, realizing he hasn’t said it yet.

“Thank me when this is over,” says Anders.

Bethany is keeping a large group of them busy with a sort of miniature tornado, and Varric and Bianca are holding their ground on a stack of crates. Hawke throws an arc of ice at a pair of dwarves who are focused on Varric. They turn their attention to him, and the game is on.

The two are equipped for ranged fighting, so they fumble as Hawke advances, blocking their crossbow bolts with a force shield. One drops their crossbow and unsheathes a pair of daggers. It’s one more than Hawke has, but Hawke has magic, and even a dwarf is nothing against a blast of fire. Hawke is careful to keep the flames contained. The whole floor is straw, and though it might be a quick way out, he’s not keen on setting the entire docks district ablaze.

Hawke is suddenly struck from behind by something large and metallic. He stumbles forward, but catches himself on one of the archers, and manages to use them as a shield against the next blow. A quick jab to their back takes them out. The dwarf with the shield is trying to pin him against the wall, and the shield covers all of his torso, but Hawke spots a weakness and kicks it. The dwarf immediately doubles over and drops his sword and shield. Hawke scoops them up and leaves the knife in the gut of the other archer.

With a quick glance around the room, Hawke notices a few things: that Bethany is holding her own against four dwarves and doesn’t seem to have a scratch, that Varric is no longer shouting gleefully but rather complaining, and that the volume of Carta dwarves has approximately doubled. Surely, he thinks, the warehouse isn’t big enough for all of them. Between Hawke and Bethany, Anders is struggling to keep another pair of dwarves at bay, one with dual daggers and the others with a nasty-looking axe. Hawke rushes over to lessen the impact and give Anders time to recast his barriers.

“This isn’t going great,” says Hawke, parrying a blow from the one with the daggers.

“No, it’s not,” agrees Anders. He briefly grabs Hawke’s arm and a cool feeling flows through him at the point of contact, which Hawke recognizes as a haste spell. Hawke is about to tell him to save his energy on offense when a blade grazes his shin, and he thinks better of it.

“If we don’t make it out alive,” he pants, ducking under his (non-magical) shield to avoid a crossbow shot, “I’ll see you at the Maker’s side.”

Anders lets out a short laugh. “Bold of you to assume you’re going there.”

Hawke holds on to his own witty retort for a few minutes, until he’s catching his breath against an uncomfortably damp Darktown wall. There’s no sign of their pursuers. He immediately forgets his comeback when he notices that Anders is bleeding from a large gash on his arm. Hawke reaches out to heal it. Anders tries to pull away.

“Let me help,” insists Hawke. Anders inhales, and then relaxes, acquiescing. Hawke brings both hands to Anders’ arm and wills the flesh to knit back together. He’s a little slower than Anders is at healing, to begin with, and he guiltily stays a little longer than strictly necessary, making sure every layer of skin is healed and that Anders hasn’t lost too much blood.

“Thank you,” says Anders. He gives Hawke a soft smile, and that, Hawke thinks, makes this entire ordeal worth it. And it stings more than any of the injuries he got today when Anders closes off again and turns down his invitation to join them at the Hanged Man.

[lochrannn]

AU-gust: Walk a mile in my red boots

Read on AO3

No warnings

prompt no 8: Character Swap

Characters: Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

-

“Five, I have to find him! I just don’t understand why you can’t see that!” Lila throws her hands up in the air, exasperation with her oldest brother hitting a boiling point.

She’s been having this argument for days now.

After they returned to 2019, to an empty mansion, no mom, no Pogo, they had spent a good few days talking about what they had experienced and how they would go on. It didn’t take too long for them to split up, though. Allison wanted to get to LA as quickly as possible to see Claire and Vanya decided to travel with her. Having left Sissy back in Dallas and learning about how her life had been leading up to her causing multiple apocalypses had been tough on her, and she said she needed some time to re-evaluate where her life should go.

Lila isn’t ready to let go of her experiences back in Dallas yet, though. She feels like it’s her responsibility to find Diego and see if he’s ok.

“Lila, he’s a lunatic who manipulated you and tried to kill our siblings. Really, really wants me dead! Why are you so desperate to go after him? What are you going to do if he tries to hurt you? You know there’s not that much you can do if we're not there for you to copy our powers. And Diego’s a highly trained assassin!” Five is trying to be understanding, but Lila can tell by the way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet that he’s going to try any tactic he can to dissuade her.

“God, Five, why don’t you get it? You told me all about the loneliness you experienced in the apocalypse. Diego’s just lost everything. Everything he believed in has been taken away from him, I can’t imagine a place more lonely than that, except for the apocalypse, maybe. And I know he’s dangerous, but I don’t believe he’ll hurt me. And wouldn’t you rather know where he is and what he’s up to than have to wonder whether he might not come back to finish the job?” Lila knows that’s a low blow but she’s desperate. She can’t quite put into words why she feels so strongly that she has to find him, she just knows that she does.

“I’d like to see him try,” Five mumbles off to the side, but Lila can see that she’s slowly getting through to him.

It’s not like she needs his permission. She helped the little gerbil from the Commission, she’s sure she can wangle a favor out of him, she doesn’t need Five. But after everything they’ve been through, she’d much rather he was on her side on this one.

There’s a tense moment between them and then Five lets go of a long breath and nods once and Lila smiles broadly at her brother.

Before leaving the kitchen she ruffles his hair and earns herself a pretty hard slap to the hand in return.

-

In the end it’s not hard to find him.

Of course Herb has been keeping tabs on him. Not only is Diego a rogue Commission agent now, but the new interim head of the board is genuinely sympathetic towards the catastrophic loss Diego’s experienced and when Lila makes contact with Herb, he presses a pre-programmed briefcase into her hands and wishes her good luck.

-

Lila studies the sign outside the cantina. Her Spanish is a little rusty but she’s quite certain that it says no women are allowed inside.

Well, fuck that.

Usually she’s not too concerned about local customs, different strokes for different folks and all that. And it’s not like she’s traveled, really, outside of missions with the Umbrella Academy when they were children. But this sign can fuck right off. She hasn’t come all this way to find Diego to be turned away by outdated gender norms.

So she walks in holding her head up high and instantly draws everybody’s attention.

But all she can focus on is the figure that scrambles in a blur to what seems to be the back of the large room with its wooden ceilings.

He’s out of sight before she can even start running, but in her pursuit she swipes a knife off of a table and flings it out of the back door before she sprints through it herself.

She hasn’t had any real opportunity to practice using this power as she only found out Diego had it when he had repelled Vanya’s attack and had toyed with Five by whizzing a knife fractions of inches away from his head when they were fighting in the barn. At least that’s how Five tells it.

Well, Lila decides to simply wing it. Intuition has always served her quite well in copying her siblings’ powers, so why not now?

And at the same time as she bolts out the back door, she hears the sound of a knife imbedding itself in a clay wall and a loud yelp.

She turns to the noise and there he is, knife pinning his jacket to the wall, a line of blood welling up along the tear in the material - oops - and he has her leveled with a deadly glare. But he doesn’t move, just stares her down.

“Gotcha!” Lila says, trying to ease the tension between them, she thinks she deserves at least a bit of co-operation from him, seeing as she de-escalated the fight between Diego and Five back in Sissy’s barn. With her words no less!

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Diego spits out at her, his expression still murderous, but he also still hasn’t moved, so Lila continues approaching slowly while she says, “Oh you know, I’ve been jonesing for a bit of a holiday so I thought to myself ‘Where’s that bastard who played and manipulated me while I was at one of the lowest points of my life? Would really like to know what he’s up to these days.’”

For a second something almost a bit like guilt flashes across Diego’s face, but then his scowl deepens and he doesn’t say anything, nor does he make a move.

So Lila chances it and steps up to him, only to regret that the second he pulls the knife pinning him out of the wall, launches himself at her, slams her back against the wall and presses the knife to her throat.

Shit, she may have misjudged this. Maybe snark wasn’t the right choice after all.

There was a time when she thought he was quite charmed by her sharp tongue, but right now she remembers that she can’t actually be too sure about anything concerning Diego. However, there’s a feeling deep down inside of her that still believes that he won’t actually hurt her, but maybe Five is right and she’s just desperately naive.

Diego is towering over her breathing heavily, not from exertion, but clearly from rage.

“Why the fuck are you here, Lila? Is that little murderer you call a brother with you? Cause he can see what he gets for hunting me down!” he snarls.

Entirely out of options Lila decides the only way forward is with the truth. “Five’s not here. I came alone.” Oh you idiot, the voice in her head that sounds a little too much like Five chimes in. “Came to make sure you were ok,” she says, staring up at him imploringly.

That’s clearly not what he expected as she can feel his forearm twitch where he has it pressed to her collarbone and his grip on the knife at her throat falters for a second.

“Why?” he whispers. For the first time she feels like there might be a tiny bit of uncertainty in his voice.

“Cause you’re all alone, Diego, and I made you a promise and I’m not sure you really heard me… you know, the whole family thing?” Lila had made an impassioned speech back at the barn, but even though every word had been completely sincere, she feels a little awkward about the whole thing now.

A nasty grin stretches across Diego’s lips and he sneers, “I don’t believe for a second that all of your siblings feel the same way. Doubt they’ve forgotten about how I tried to kill them. Came pretty close, as well! And what the fuck makes you think I’d even want to be part of your family, anyway?”

He’s leaning against her heavily now and Lila knows he’s trying to intimidate her, but if he wanted to hurt her he would have already done so. Clearly he’s not actually willing to just leave this conversation either.

“They’ll get over themselves,” she says with as casual a shrug as she can manage with a knife to her throat, “and I care about you, Diego, the same way I think you care about me. And I don’t believe you actually want to be alone. But beyond that, it’s up to you.”

At her words she sees something crumble behind his eyes and suddenly they seem to fill with unshed tears. “Jesus, Lila, I drugged you and took you to the Commission against your will. You’re fucking crazy to be anywhere near me!”

“Yeah you did. And maybe I am. But what can you do?” Lila just says gently.

Apparently that’s how easy it is. Diego closes his eyes, presumably to stop the tears from falling, tips forward, and knocks his forehead against hers.

Then the knife is gone and Lila uses the opportunity to wrap her arms around him and he melts into her hug.

And while they stand there, Lila with her back against the wall, slightly struggling to hold a sobbing Diego upright, she rubs soothing circles into his back and whispers into his ear, “It’s gonna be alright! We can make it alright, I promise!”