#i still miss that dickhead sometimes

[gassadamante]

Okay, I'm gonna rant a bit again about love, queerness and *drum roll* kinks.

Just a little heads up: I'm bisexual and to the surprise of literally no one kinky. I'm also demiromantic/lovepunk and I've struggled my entire life (and I'm still struggling) with romantic connections, relationships, dating and also friendship.

I've only dated one (1) guy, he was pretty kinky too and with him I've experienced various sub drops. With him I was a sub, a little bit bratty sometimes but since I was completely inexperienced it was more natural to just be a sub. Point is, I've never received aftercare. Like, ever.

And sex is one of my special interests since when I was maybe 14 (we're talking about 2013 guys, eleven years ago), so I know damn well what aftercare is, how important it is and how hard a drop can hit you and how damaging it can be. And yet I've never asked for it. I've never said "hey, maybe hug me a bit after you slapped me?" Maybe because I have a pretty bad rejection sensitivity dysphoria, maybe because I didn't know how to, maybe because he was just a dickhead and not exactly a Dom.

Anyway, the sub drops hit me like a fucking train and I'm still facing the consequences a year later.

Now, about the queerness part.

I've experienced some kind of drop with platonic friends too, but almost never with queer friends. Don't know why, don't know if I'm just a lucky bastard, but my queer best friends always make sure I'm comfortable, whatever we are doing. From choosing a place to eat, to the time we're leaving, to my social battery, to literally everything.

They give me time and space to choose and when I'm too overwhelmed they choose for me and still make sure I'm okay with their choice.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this post, I probably just wanted to say be kinky, be queer, be free and loving but also check on the people you love, they need it even if they don't say so. And don't be fucking afraid to hug each others, friends or partners or whatever, hug the people you love for fuck's sake!!

(only exception: if they ask you to not hug them, but in a rant about kinks and queerness I think I'm gonna assume all parts involved are consenting)

((consent needs a rant on its own but I'm too tired to not write a mess))

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

we write like men we post like boys

[clockwayswrites]

Birdritch... something. I hurt so much. It's some number. You'll figure it out. You're smart, darlings.

masterpost over on @clockwaysadmin

Danny stayed at the back, trailing after the rambunctious flock of Waynes as they made their way behind the stage and to the other, hidden side of the theater. It made Danny smile, to see the family bumping shoulders, teasing, and laughing with each other.

His life in Gotham was something that Danny loved. He’d clawed it out from the proverbial grave of his death and everything that came with it: nearly failing high school, his failing health after, the trauma it left him with, the relationship with his parents he left behind. But he’d gotten to the surface. He got his Bachelors and Masters and PHD. He got a job that he traded for another and another until he rose up to where he worked at an amazing company and got mostly left alone to dream up new ways to make the world better.

Danny loved it.

But that didn’t mean that Danny didn’t miss the close friendships that (metaphorically and physically), Danny had moved away from to achieve what he had. Visiting Jazz and Taylor, Sam and her brood, or Tucker and his partners wasn’t the same as living with them close. He missed what the Waynes had with an ache so deep that he had to push it aside so that it didn’t swallow him whole.

“Cass!”

Tim calling his sister’s name shook Danny out of his rumination. He found a little out of the way spot of wall to lean against between some boxes and rolls of scenery.

“You were amazing, darling,” Bruce said as he leaned in to kiss Cass’ cheek.

Bruce handed over the bouquet of white roses and babies-breath that he had brought from where it had been stored in the sitting room. Cass basically buried her face in the flowers and inhaled.

“For real, little sis, your moves were amazing. You have to show me how you hold some of those poses so still,” Dick said.

“As if you could stay still,” Barbara teased with a well placed poke to Dick’s side that made him squeak and move defensively behind Cass.

“Pretty sure she beats you in flexibility now too, dickhead,” Jason said.

“It is okay, love you still,” Cass said in her soft tone. She pulled out one of the roses from the mass of flowers and tucked it behind Dick’s ear.

Dick looked momentarily torn if he should be insulted or fond, though fond quickly won out and he pressed a little kiss to the top of Cass’ head. It seemed to be a signal, somehow, and suddenly all of the family was talking to Cass or to each other. The fatigue was starting to pull too heavily on Danny for him to make out most of the chatter, so he simply closed his eyes and let the happy voices wash over him.

There was a gentle pressure on his arm. Danny blinked his eyes open to a worried Cass, dark brows furrowed above the dramatic white and glitter of her stage make up. Danny smiled, though he knew it probably looked a little drawn.

“Hello, Cass,” Danny signed.

The furrow between the bows only grew as she signed. “You okay?”

“Okay. Tired,” Danny replied before he gave up to talking verbally. The sleep clouded his mind about signs right then. He really would have to practice. “I’m just a little out of sorts, but I’m very glad I came. Thank you for inviting me. You danced absolutely wonderfully. I don’t know much about ballet, but even I could see how skilled you are.”

“Thank you. I am glad you came. Could have not,” she said.

“Of course I had to come, you invited me and it’s an important night for you. It should be!” Danny made himself stand up away from the wall and put a bit more energy into his smile. “I’m fine, really, fatigue just gets me sometimes.”

Cass turned his frown away from Danny and directed it at her father.

“I already talked Danny into letting us give him a ride home,” Bruce replied.

“I really would be fine,” Danny couldn’t help but argue. “I’ve made it home in worse states than this.”

“Oddly enough,” Jason interjected, “you really aren’t helping your case.”

Danny couldn’t do anything else but give an unrepentant little shrug to that. He probably wasn’t, but it was true. Besides, he had already agreed to the ride, not that he felt he had much choice. It was too easy to be swept along by the Waynes.

Barbara may be right that they did absorb people.

[nappingmoon]

ex!sukuna x reader - nsfw

wc: 3.1k

you get stuck on the side of the road with no gas and the only one who comes to your rescue is your ex sukuna <3

this can't be fucking real. your car sputters as you pull onto the side of the road before it comes to a halt. your roommate had borrowed your car earlier and returned it with just enough time to drive to your date on time. she didn't tell you, however, that the tank was nearly empty, and you had to ignore the small light that went on as you neared the small bar, not wanting to be rude and arrive late.

the date was alright, and at least he asked you a question or two instead of droning on and on alone for an hour and a half like your last date did. he was handsome and seemed kind enough that you could see him making a great boyfriend for someone else, but there was an unfortunate lack of chemistry between the two of you. there was a promise to talk again soon– one that would surely be broken-- and then you found yourself on your way. driving always gave you time to think and apparently, all the thinking drowned out any warning signs that the car tried to send you before giving out.

you try your roommate first, calling her with the hopes that she's with her boyfriend and he'd be willing to drive to you and at least get you to a gas station. the blaring music in the background of the call gives you an idea of what they're up to and when she turns the camera to her boyfriend with a funnel in his mouth, you cross them off the list.

next you try your date, crossing your fingers that he's still in the area. it goes straight to voicemail. you call again, maybe it was just bad connection or something. voicemail again. "dickhead" you mutter.

your only other friend who would be willing to come pick you up without holding the favor over your head works always works a double on saturdays. you know she'd come pick you up in a heartbeat, but she needs her rest and you decide against calling.

and so you come upon your last option. you and sukuna broke up two months ago and you hadn't seen him since. it was a stupid spat- you don't even remember what the source of the problem was but at some point you just started insulting each other like fucking middle school children. he called you an overbearing bitch, you called him a jealous dickhead who couldn't get over his mommy and daddy issues. things just got away from the two of you and neither of you called to mend things. about a month ago, you just assumed you were now single and when your roommate made you a profile on a stupid dating app, you didn't delete it right away.

and so, here you are now. an empty tank, with no one except him to call. you wince as you type his number in and his contact name appears as scumbag. deciding that calling him is a better option than staying alone in a car on the side of the road all night, you close your eyes and tap the green call icon. it rings once.

"hello?" his voice is gruff and the one word squeezes your heart, making you remember how much you actually miss him, despite hating him sometimes too.

"hi sukuna, i'm sorry to bother. is this a bad time?" you hear voices in the background, he might be at a friend's. even as you ask that, you know he'd drop everything if he knew you were in need.

"what's up princess? you need something?" he uses your old nickname and the heartstrings tug even more. he ignores your question and you know that you were right.

"well, it's not an emergency, but, i ran out of gas and-" you start but don't get to finish your sentence.

"send me your location." is all he says before he hangs up.

you send it. you still had his from when you were dating, but you had stopped sharing yours a week after the argument. you knew he was liable to show up at a club if he knew you were there and didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being able to do that. you were free to do as you please. the map said that he was 22 minutes away.

within 15 minutes, you see a pair of headlights slow. you get out of your car, ready to scold him for speeding but eager to see him again, even if the last time you saw him was on bad terms. confusion enters you, though, when you see an unfamiliar car. out comes a man that you don’t recognize. “hello sweetcheeks,” says the man, walking towards you and grinning far too much for your liking. “you get lost or something?” 

you head back towards your car reaching in to grab your phone but never taking your eyes off the man. “no, I’m not. I am waiting for a friend.” you try to keep your voice assertive and steady but it is difficult when this creep keeps coming towards you. you click sukuna’s contact and send him a text, ‘creepy guy here, please come quick.’ 

“can i wait with ya? you look like you could use a friend and I am great company.” he says, getting too close to the car and too close to you. he responds to your ‘no, thank you.’ with a “aw come on, i’m not gonna do anything to ya. why don’t you want to hang out with me? don’t be a bitch.” 

“sir, i’m really gonna need you to back up right now please.” you’re cornered into your car door and you curse yourself for forgetting to replace the pepper spray on your keychain. your heart seems to be beating through your chest but you can see headlights to a much bigger car turning onto the road over the man’s shoulder. sukuna’s truck roars closer and you could almost cry in gratitude. the man in front of you doesn’t seem to notice the lights nor the man bounding towards the two of you. just as he goes to reach your hand, sukuna grabs the man’s shoulder and pulls him away from you, bending his arm behind his back so far you are sure it’s going to snap at any moment. 

“listen here you degenerate piece of lowlife scum. the only reason you have your face still intact is because i’m on fucking probation and I don’t need to go to jail over some fucking incel who can’t take no for an answer. now you’re going to walk back to your car and drive on the fuck home and if i ever catch you around here creeping again, you won’t have enough limbs or teeth to try it a third time. got it?” the man nods and whimpers as sukuna releases his arm, running over to his car and speeding off.

sukuna turns to you to ask you if you’re alright but lets out a small ‘umph’ in surprise when you run into his chest and wrap your arms around him. he places a hand on your head and rubs it back and forth, muttering a “yeah, yeah” as you thank him over and over. he grabs your chin to tilt your head up to him and looks into your glassy eyes as he asks “you alright, princess?”

you nod, but don’t unwrap your arms from his torso– refusing to release your lifeline. you burrow your head into his chest again, needing a moment to ground yourself before returning to reality. he huffs, but squeezes you tight, rubbing his thumb on your shoulder. you stand like that for a minute or two before he pushes you back. “come on, let's fix your car and get you warmed up. it’s cold out here.” then he takes a look at your outfit. “hold on, where the fuck were you?”

your cheeks warm, remembering that you really tried to look cute for this date. you paired a cute slip dress with a cardigan and some short strappy heels. an outfit wasted on a man who showed up in shorts and a graphic tee but you suppose sukuna seeing you in it is at least a plus. “just a bar.” you say, while looking to the side.

he grabs your chin and brings your eyes back to him, a favorite move of his apparently, and scans your face. “you were with a guy, huh? what the fuck? are you cheating on me?” he asks incredulously.

“what? you haven’t talked to me in two months. I thought we broke up!” you reply, equally confused.

“I thought you were doing your fucking ‘healing’ or whatever the fuck you girls do! I gave you space because i was trying to be mature and let you calm down.”

“who lets someone calm down for two months? you didn’t think to call me and ask? what is wrong with you?” 

“you! you are fucking wrong with me. whenever it comes to you its like all fucking reasonable thought goes out the window! how the fuck was I supposed to know it was okay to reach out? and, what, we don’t talk for a little and you think it’s okay to go talk to other guys? you’re mine, don’t you remember that? or did our dry spell fuck with your head? did you think you could get over me by dressing up for some loser and getting mediocre dick?” 

yes. “no! it wasn’t like that kuna. I just, i don’t know. you were so mean and then you didn’t reach out and i thought that was it between us. I thought i needed to move on.” 

he bends over so that you are eye level with each other. “there’s no fucking ‘moving on’ baby. you’re stuck with me forever.”

upon hearing those words, it’s like all the sentiment from before truly comes flooding back into you. your body seems to move on its own, surprising the both of you when you close the gap between your lips. his fist finds its way into your hair and the other grabs your waist, pulling you closer. these months were the longest you have gone without sex and you didn’t know how much you had missed it until you were back in sukunas hands with his tongue in your mouth. he moves his knee between your thighs as much as your dress will let him. the friction isn’t enough and you whine and squirm in his arms. “aw, is my baby all needy? do you need more?” he teases, the words leaving his mouth and meeting yours. 

you drag your hands down his back and then slip them under his shirt to roam around his abs. fuck, you’ve missed this. “please, please kuna, need more.” 

sukuna growls and pulls you back, closing the door to the driver’s seat and opening the door to the back row. he tugs your arm and maneuvers you like a doll until you’re laid across your back seats. sukuna kneels on the floor outside the car and tugs your hips to the edge of the outermost seat before hiking up your dress to your waist. he growls when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. “are you fucking kidding me? you had this pretty pussy ready and open on a first date? like some slut?” 

he bites the inside of your thigh and you cry out “no, ryo, the lines just ruin the dress. I promise.” he’s looking up at your frown and your watery eyes and you look so sincere and so adorable and he can’t take it anymore. he sticks his head into your heat, lapping at you like he hasn’t had a meal since the last time you saw him.

“fuck, baby. I’ve missed your taste so much. his fingers dig into your hips, keeping you in place as your back arches and your head digs into the seat. you can’t stop your squirming as sukuna sucks at your clit and your hands claw at your sides and the seat in search of something to grasp. sukuna grips your left leg and adjusts it so that it lays over his right shoulder. he brings your hand into his hair before dipping to play with your clit, his head lowering to kiss and swirl his tongue all around your pussy. with his other hand, he intertwines his fingers with yours, not even needing to look up to find your hand. of course he doesn’t look away– he’s entirely focused on using his tongue to make you forget anyone but him exists. he uses the palm of the hand that’s intertwined with yours to press on your tummy, making you see stars.

“fuck, ryomen, i’m gonna cum. please pleasepleasepleaseplease” your words blend together as the pleasure gets to your head. the fingers over your clit have found a deadly rhythm and when paired with his tongue that pushes in and out of you, you truly don’t stand a chance. he lets out small words that you can’t hear but the vibrations are enough to send you over the edge, crying out and squeezing your thighs around him like a vice. as you come down from your high you let sukuna move you up, making space for him to get into the car and close the door behind him. 

you’re dazed as you watch him unbuckle his belt and pull the waistband of his boxers down. His dick slaps his abdomen, hard and pulsing. he fists himself as he licks his lips, smirking. “delicious as always princess. now are you gonna let me in?” and you don’t think you could nod faster. you’re almost positive that there are hearts in your eyes as you watch him line himself up with you, fingers playing with your clit a little before spreading you for his tip. he rolls his hips forwards just enough so the tip catches and the stretch is already dizzyingly good. he curses, “holy fuck, did you not touch yourself at all while you were alone?”

“I did, my fingers just weren’t enough.” you whine, and the image of you in bed horny and frustrated because your little fingers weren’t hitting all the spots that he could makes him impossibly harder. 

“fuck, baby, I didn’t just ruin you for any other guy, I ruined you for yourself too, huh? nothing else will do for this pretty pussy but my cock or my fingers or my mouth. what a spoiled little cunt you have.” he laughs. you have had enough of his teasing and try to roll your hips to get more in. “alright alright I get it. easy baby, easy. by the way, what did you have for dinner tonight?” 

confused, you reply “chicken francaise, wh–” but you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by sukuna fully thrusting into you. you gasp, the sting of your walls stretching to accommodate him intense even after cumming once already.

“I figured a distraction might help you relax a little better but holy fuck you’re tighter than I could have imagined. you really must have barely touched yourself while I was gone. don’t worry, this pussy won’t get neglected again.” he says, and rolls his hips again. sweat drips down your forehead as he leans over to kiss you, working his hips into yours in a delicious rhythm. as soon as you notice that his thumb has started rubbing your clit, he bites your bottom lip and the pain and pleasure mix into a mind numbing, all encompassing haze. he brings his other hand to pinch your nipple and it is enough to send you over the edge again.

being the man that he is, however, he does not let you catch a break before flipping you over to be on your hands and knees. you’re crouched and you’re sweaty and it’s hot as he slides against you but nothing has been more erotic and you find that you love it. he’s merciless now, hips snapping into yours as he chases his own pleasure. there’s just one thing he can’t get out of his mind. “did you like having your fun? was going out with those losers everything you had hoped for and more?” he spits the words into your ear, the smack of his hips getting rougher and rougher as he speaks.

it’s all you can do to turn your head and whine out “n-no! only wanted you ryo, hated going out with other guys.” you pout just remembering it. “please make me forget about them. I only ever want you.” the request is enough to send him into overdrive, and he sticks his fingers into your mouth to shut you up, knowing that he was going to be seconds away from coming if you uttered another word. you moan at the taste of yourself and at the feeling of him so deep inside you. you suck his fingers clean running your tongue across his digits. some of the spit escapes and drips down the side of your mouth and the sukuna goes wild at the debauchery of it all. 

“fuck, fuck fuck fuck i’m gonna cum, where do you want it princess?” he groans, hips stuttering as he tries to hold his release back.

there is, of course, only one right answer. “inside!” you keen, pushing your hips back to try to give him nowhere to escape to. 

“dirty fucking girl.” he snarls. “I’ll give you my cum– don’t worry princess, it’s all yours.” he says before groaning and stilling inside you. you feel the warmth fill you and grin, knowing that it is where it’s supposed to be. he turns your head and kisses you with fervor before pulling you back and sitting you on his lap. you lay your head on his chest, catching your breath and basking in the feeling of being in his arms once again. 

...

“so, are you really on probation?” you ask, rubbing your thumb in circles over one of the tattoos on his chest.

“yeah, I told you, i go crazy when it comes to you. after our argument i went out and got into a fight with the first person who was stupid enough to respond to my antagonizing. got caught kicking the shit out of him because I was so in my head. don’t fucking leave me again, I don’t think i’d survive the next one. well, i might, but the next guy I fight probably wouldn’t.”

[emphistic]

Revelation

A/N: i must finish this series before it finishes me. this is also only my second time writing on laptop instead of my phone.

<- Series m.list

Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.

It came natural to him — talking to you, I mean.

“Hello?” you asked, putting him on speaker. You didn’t bother moving your phone to your ear, your roommate slept over at her boyfriend’s last night anyway. So you had the apartment to yourself.

A deep, raspy voice answered on the other line with a quick, “Hey,” and you assumed he had probably only woken up a few minutes before he called you.

“Do you . . . need something?” You had to admit, this was quite odd. It was rare for Sukuna to call you so early in the morning, after all, your tutoring sessions were usually in the evening or right after Sukuna got off of basketball practice, which was never before 4pm.

“I’m supposed to need something now? What if I just wanted to talk to you?”

“. . .” You almost dropped your phone on the tiles of the kitchen floor; your silence told Sukuna everything he needed to know.

“What, don’t tell me I can’t talk to my favorite tutor?” His voice held a mischievous tone to it, and the expression painted on his face was no different.

“I’m your only tutor, dickhead.”

Sukuna feigned a sigh, and you almost pitied him for a second. “I just, y’know, miss hearing the voice of the prettiest girl on campus—”

“Sukuna, don’t—don’t do that. Especially not to me.” Chance no. 1 — Those words and the tone in which you uttered them almost made Sukuna think back on the whole bet. If only he had. If only he had listened.

“Do what?”

“You know what.”

“Why not?”

“For fuck’s sake, Sukuna, don’t play coy. It is eight in the morning—”

“I’m serious, though. I just want to talk to you, it’s, ah, lonely over here.” Sukuna twirled a pen he picked up from his nightstand between his fingers.

Lonely? Lonely? Sukuna was lonely? Yeah, he had to be playing with you or something. “Where’s that girl you posted on your story last night then, hm? Was she not up to your liking, Ryomen?”

“Don’t even start.”

You laughed. Sukuna smiled; in all honesty, he really did miss your voice. He had neither seen nor heard from you in days. Coach had been kicking him in the ass lately, telling him to do this and do that, and the injury on his shoulder was really starting to take a toll on his body. He wasn’t allowed to work out, much less, even play ball.

“Are you really serious though? Like, deadass?”

Sukuna paused, before answering moments later. “Why the hell would I not be? Yuuji’s out of town with some of his friends, so I have no one to bother, and no games for a while, either. This is the first time I’ve had — what did you call it? — a lazy morning.”

You couldn’t stifle your giggle. “Is that all you care about? No Yuuji and no basketball?”

“. . . I also have no food in the fridge . . . so that’s that, I guess.”

“Oh, my God! You being miserable is not supposed to be this funny. I can’t.” Sukuna could still hear your laughter loud and clear from the other line even after you set your phone down to clutch your stomach in hysteria.

“How rude of you, Madame President.”

When you realized how casually you were speaking to Sukuna — out of all people, you abruptly regained your composure, and cleared your throat. Yeah, sometimes either you or Sukuna would crack a joke or two during a tutoring session, but you two rarely held a civil conversation without it breaking out into a petty fight or argument about something trivial. So this was certainly new. And, you were also fairly surprised with how natural it felt, as if this was totally normal, and you totally weren’t speaking to the biggest nuisance and bane of your existence.

However, this also wasn’t the first nor last phone call you two would ever have. And usually, speaking while separated also helped keep the peace between you both.

“Are you stable now?” Sukuna teasingly questioned.

Your voice cracked, “Mhm.”

“Good.” Then, he hung up. That was it. That was it. Chance no. 2 — Sukuna should’ve just left it at that. He should’ve never called you another morning, or another evening. But no, he was determined to prove Naoya Zen’in wrong. He could do this. But. . . He shouldn’t do this. And that made all the difference.

Maybe it was a bad idea to immediately start his car and drive to your complex. Maybe it was a bad idea to knock three times, sparing only a glance at the number on your door: 116. Maybe it was a bad idea to enter your apartment. Maybe it was a bad idea. Then again, you were the one who let him in — in the first place. It was a bad idea.

“You said you were hungry, right? I’m making breakfast right now. Wan’ some?”

He should’ve shook his head no, and said, “My fridge is empty. But I’m not hungry,” but he didn’t. Sukuna stayed over for three hours. You two spent the morning sharing a stack of pancakes, and spoke in hushed tones — not for any specific reason — over cups of coffee.

But that wasn’t all. Sukuna began calling you almost every morning after that day. At first, it was an inconvenience, as most of your meetings were in the early hours, but you two came to a compromise and only spoke on the phone for as long as it took you to change your clothes and get ready to leave. However, unbeknownst to you, Sukuna also took the time out of his day. Though it wasn’t much, Sukuna skipped out on his morning jogs to hear your voice. It didn’t matter, anyway, because Coach wasn’t going to let him run if he had a say in this. But he didn’t.

The bet stayed in the back of his mind. Sukuna rarely thought about it. At times, most times, really, it didn’t feel like a bet or a dare or a joke, to Sukuna. It felt real. It felt like he was actually talking to and hanging out with a real person. He was talking to and hanging out with you. And he was enjoying it.

But when Naoya called, and asked for them to meet up after school, Sukuna automatically knew what that little mutt wanted. They agreed on a small diner, close to campus, and not too far from their gymnasium. It was rough, downtrodden, and looked too old to still be running. Nevertheless, no one was supposed to see them here anyway, so it worked.

“Have you two hung out yet?”

The memory of having breakfast at your place was not a distant memory, so Sukuna didn’t mention it. “Not out of school.”

“I assume progress has been slow, then?”

“We’ve started talking more than usual.” Sukuna silently reminisced about all the nights you spent on call together, when either of you couldn’t fall asleep, and about all the mornings you spent eating breakfast together, when Sukuna’s fridge was, like always, empty. But he didn’t mention any of those things.

“You seem to be enjoying this, y’know. I saw the way you dropped her off at her Student Council meeting, don’t think I didn’t.”

Sukuna frowned, but the blond continued.

“You had a smile on your face.” 

That, he did.

“If you don’t hurry up and get her to go out with you, I’m calling off the bet. Money’s gone. No prize, nothing. Make up your mind. Go through with this, or, like the pussy you are, forfeit,” Naoya spat out; his tone was far from benevolent, did Sukuna forget about how this all started in the first place? Chance no. 3 — Sukuna should’ve ended the deal right then and there. But he didn’t; if Naoya thought Sukuna was going to back out of this unsuccessful, he thought wrong.

“You seem to have forgotten who was the pussy in the first place, dumbass. I’ll forfeit when I die.”

“We’ll see about that, Ryomen. We’ll see.”

It was later than usual when Sukuna called you that night, and exhaustion was evident in his voice.

-

“You’re telling me, that, you’ve started hanging out with SUKUNA!?”

“Nobara, shh! At this point, the whole building’s going to know.”

“They should know! This is revolutionary! My friend’s getting laid!”

You shot her a pointed expression.

“Alright, alright, let me just tone it down a bit, my bad, because I’m totally not shocked that my best friend is now talking civilly with the man of her NIGHTMARES!” Her pitch gradually got louder and higher as she continued with her sentence. You curled up into a ball on the floor of your shared living room as the brunette paraded around the apartment waving her arms about and screaming in intervals of only two seconds.

“And, and, not only that, he’s also asking you OUT?!”

“Nobara, oh, my God.”

“‘Oh, my God’ is right. This is — I don’t even know what to say — is this good? Is this great? Are we excited? Are we friendzoning him? What’s—what’s the situation here, girl? Fill me in a little more.”

“Oh, yeah, about that. . . I’m not really into baseball, but I was talking to him the other day about it—”

“Why are you only telling me just now?”

“Anyways, I was telling him about this player who I thought was really cute. Y’know, the guy I showed you a picture of—with the really spunky hair, yeah, that guy, and umm, I guess he took that as me saying I’m into baseball. But I’m not. I have no clue what anything regarding that sport even is, I just—ugh, I need help. He says he has really good seats,” you pinched the space between your brows in exasperation.

“What I’m getting at here is that you don’t want to say ‘no’ because he already paid for the tickets?”

You nodded.

“But you don’t want to say ‘yes’, right?”

When you didn’t respond, Nobara audibly sighed as loud as one could, and slapped her palm on her forehead. “I thought you were better than this. Sukuna? Really? You want to go out with that punkass? The one who — you told me — annoyed the shit out of you back in high school? Girl, something has to be possessing you right now, what the fuck.”

“Okay, okay, deep breaths. Let’s backtrack a little,” Nobara seemed to be the only one not following her own instruction.” So, he’s asking you out on a date, with him, and not another better guy who would be better deserving of you. Yes? Ugh, damnit. Okay, anyway, and you plan on saying ‘yes’.”

“I might’ve already said ‘yes’,” you winced as Nobara looked like she was about to faint.

“Oh, dear Jesus. Do I not exist to you anymore? Why are you only giving me the scoop, like, centuries later? Are we not friends, roommates, anything? . . . Okay, okay, deep breaths, Nobara, deep breaths. . .” She shut her eyes and began to breathe in deeply, over and over again. 

All the while, you tried to contain your own mind. If you really thought hard and long about it, it would seem a little strange that you were going on a date with Ryomen Sukuna. Scratch that, really strange, actually. I mean, how much could a person possibly change over the course of — what, a year? — to go from teasing and bullying you relentlessly, absolutely determined to make your life a living hell, to asking you out on a date. A date? Isn’t that what couples do? Isn’t that what people who like or love each other do? But, you weren’t supposed to like nor love Sukuna. You were supposed to hate his guts, or, at the most, tolerate him. But no more, right?

That’s what Nobara Kugisaki was trying to figure out, as well. But her specific thinking was on a level below yours. As your best friend, roommate, and all the things you could possibly think of, she knew you. She knew your favorite type of sandwich, your favorite music genres and songs, your favorite hairbrush to use, your favorite pair of shoes. She knew you well. But, after some previous events, she now only knew you well enough. She also used to know your type. . . And, Sukuna? Wasn't it, until now, apparently.

“So what’s the game plan?” The sound of her genuinely curious voice brought an abrupt end to your train of thought.

“Oh, um, I don’t know? Just go to the game with him, I guess. That’s all there is to it, right? It’s just a simple date, a simple outing, an evening of fun. Yeah! Let’s think of it that way.” While you tried to act normal about the whole arrangement, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of misgiving about the whole thing. You were actually starting to like Sukuna more than you let on, he made you feel giddy inside, like a little middle school girl talking to her crush, he made you laugh and smile, but, in the end, you weren’t sure if he changed enough as a person to not go back to his old ways.

“That’s all there is to it?” Nobara repeated, not completely understanding your words.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this. After all, Sukuna never referred to this as a date in the first place, it was you, instead, who thought of it as one. I mean, who wouldn’t? Sukuna played it off as, “Me and Yuuji were originally going to go together, but we bought these tickets before he went out of town. And I don’t like baseball that much, either, I’m more of a basketball typa guy — as you know, so there’s no way I’m going alone. And there’s also no way I’m letting sixty bucks go to waste.”

You laughed with him, and said, “So I’m the replacement?”

“Whatever you want to be.”

To be completely honest, you didn’t give it much thought when you quickly replied only moments later, “Sure, I’d like that.”

-

“What the fuck?! He was clearly safe!” Sukuna yelled, standing up from his seat as the rest of the crowd held similar reactions to what was called.

You crossed your legs, remaining seated, and placed a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles. “I thought you weren’t into baseball?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m stupid!” Sukuna extended an arm out in the direction of the umpire, and mumbled a string of curses.

“Was it really that big of a deal? Mind you, you’re the brainy one in this area, not me, for once. You’ve gotta start giving me some pointers.” You cocked your head to the side, and used your hand to escape the harsh rays of the sun.

“Oh really, that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Was my lecture lasting the whole car ride here not enough for you?”

You let out a laugh, “You already know the answer to that.”

“Let me guess, you didn’t listen to a thing I said?”

“Bingo.”

“Sukuna, what are we doing?”

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”

The two of you spoke quietly, whilst sharing a cool milkshake after you unanimously decided it was hot as fuck, and you both were sweating like absolute pigs.

“Y’know. . . What are we doing? What are we doing at a baseball game together? What are we doing spending most nights and mornings on call together? What are we doing on a date together? What are we doing—together?” It was hard enough for you to keep eye contact with someone, you always felt uncomfortable by it, but Sukuna made it nearly impossible. You couldn’t meet his dark eyes for long enough until you had to avert your gaze elsewhere. But sharing a milkshake together? There really was no escape for you.

When the stadium grew boisterous and louder than ever out of the blue, you thought everyone was listening in to your conversation. Then, the logical side of your brain shut that idea down. But, when you and Sukuna turned your heads simultaneously to face the Jumbotron at the same time, you realized.

Inside of a heart-shaped frame decorated in pink and red hearts on the live-streamed video up above was none other than your and the pink haired-man beside you’s faces on the screen. And below your faces, written in bold, large, and white letters were: KISS CAM.

This was it. This was how you would die.

“I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing,” Sukuna turned to look at you with a calmer-than-he-should-be face. “Hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing. But . . . if you’ll let me. . .” His voice trailed off as his eyes languidly moved down your face, until his gaze rested on your lips.

Chants of “Kiss, kiss, kiss” filled the stadium, and grew louder and louder and louder, despite your evidently growing embarrassment.

You don’t know who leaned in first, and to this day, you still don’t know.

Sukuna’s arm — which previously hung around the back of your seat, moved to rest on the small of your back. His other hand gingerly cupped your cheek, and you subconsciously leaned into his hand, relaxing at the feel of his seemingly soothing touch.

A smirk grew on Sukuna’s face, and you waited for an obscene, vulgar joke to come out, but it never did. As your faces got nearer, your noses almost touching as a result, time seemed to come to a halt. You couldn’t even hear the restless crowd anymore. It was just you, and Sukuna. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. Come to think of it, you liked the sound of that, to be honest.

While Sukuna came closer, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he really was. I know, it sounds weird to say, but it was true. In high school, he had his fair share of girlfriends, but you never really paid much thought to it. But now, you know why. It was undeniable. Sukuna really was attractive. Even if you push aside him being built like a Greek god, there were still other aspects to his beauty. His seemingly hypnotic eyes, his defined cheekbones, his tattooed skin, and that sharp jawline of his. It was all so, so beautiful.

You closed your eyes, afraid of what would happen next. But really, there was nothing to be afraid of as his lips met yours in a tender, yet fervent kiss.

This was . . . new. You didn’t expect a kiss from the Ryomen Sukuna to feel this way — not that you ever thought about that, no way. Was he always this gentle? Fuck, why was his hair so soft? While your focus was entirely on the man in front of you, your hands were quite distracted and moved to his nape to play with the little ends of hair there from his undercut.

Earlier, the cries of the stadium were softened and shut out because of . . . something you didn’t know about. (And the author doesn’t know, either.) But now, sounds of the stadium were completely drowned out, for you could only hear the hammering of your own heartbeat in your own chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your mind was wiped completely blank, and you felt lightheaded, beyond dazed, even, as Sukuna caressed your cheek whilst he deepened the kiss ever so slightly. His lips began to move more ravaging-ly, like he was greedy for more. His tongue lightly grazed against your bottom lip, before he gave you lick. Taking the opportunity — as you parted your lips in a gasp, Sukuna added a little bit of tongue into the kiss as well.

The crowd grew wild, erupting into cheers as the sight on the screen grew closer and closer to a mere porno. Some parents were even forced to cover the stares of their curious and confused children 

You swore — for a split second, that you could taste the bitterness of the chocolate syrup from the milkshake you two had shared earlier, which made the kiss feel impossibly more sweeter, and even pleasant, if you will. You felt your face heat up, and your cheeks redden. You just knew he was going to tease you about this later, but did it matter? Not really, no.

The kiss turned sloppy, as Sukuna grew insatiable like the jerk he was, and people in charge of the KISS CAM quickly moved to a different couple, in hopes of keeping things a little more on the PG side.

You were surprised, to say the least, as you found yourself craving more. You grew fond of the feeling of his lips on yours, and you were beyond devastated — a pout evident on your glossy lips, when Sukuna pulled away.

You sank down into the back of your seat, covering your reddening cheeks, and attempting to hide from the world as Sukuna only gave a shit-eating grin to the people around you both.

Was it the beer that made you do all of that? Oh, right. You’re completely sober! God, you wondered what possessed you to do such a thing, much less, on live video! There was no excuse for what you just did. Nada.

“Was it really that bad? — That you had to hide away like a little hobbit?” Sukuna teased, laughing as you continued to get impossibly more red.

He really, really enjoyed this.

[splatashahowlett]

missing piece

logan (james) howlett x reader

the record player was playing One piece at a time, your favorite song, occasionally letting out a soft sound of scratching against the vinyl. the bar was crowded and everybody seemed to have a good time. the 70's may become your favorite decade. you've been alive for over a hundred years now but you liked everything about this era; the music, the clothes and the recklessness of it.

you were currently seated at the bar, drinking whatever the bartender had offered you. the guy had been hitting on you all evening, and you figured that free drinks couldn't hurt since your healing factor would keep you from getting drugged. you liked the attention anyway, your ex lover had disappeared on a random tuesday and never came back home. it had been four years since you had last seen him, you weren't mad at him anymore, but more at yourself for thinking a man could keep his promises. so some compliments were always welcomed.

you were watching people dance, the festive atmoshpere filling a void in your chest. whenever you felt alone you would go to a bar, or a pub just to feel something. in those places, time seemed to stop, you could be invisible. nobody cared about you or asked anything from you. sometimes you would dance with a random girl or guy and end up in their motel room just to sneak out the second they fell alseep. you were conscious that this lifestyle wasn't for everybody. in fact, you didn't enjoy it in the slightest. but you didn't have a choice. you didn't have any family anymore, and the only person that counted took off 4 years ago. you didn't work and your only hobby was drinking. you weren't living, but barely surviving. but with time you get used to it, right?

right as when you were about to get up to dance, someone sat next to you. too close for your liking. you turned your head and were met with a drunk looking guy, staring at you like you were some piece of meat. you gave him a look that meant "get the fuck out of here and leave me alone" but he didn't seem to want to comply.

"hello pretty girl, need some company?" he said, or at least that's what you understood. his breath hit your nose and you almost threw up; your heightened senses could really be a pain in the ass sometimes.

"go fuck yourself" you said, walking toward the back door. the guy following you.

"I think I'll need some help with that, my girl" he said, trying to catch up with you. you ignored him, or at least he thought so, and went through the back door, making sure he was still behind you. once you found yourself in a small alley, you grabbed him by the collar and pushed him brutally against the wall.

"I am not your girl" you threatened. the dickhead tried to answer but with your hands on his throat the task seemed more difficult than usual. you hated this petname, it reminded you of things you wanted to forget. you let go of him, letting him fall to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. that wasn't necessary but he deserved it.

you went back inside, planning on gathering your things and then finding a place to sleep. you folded your jacket on your arm and put your pack of cigarettes in your pocket. but as you turned toward the door, your heart stopped. a familiar face looking at you from the crowd. at first you thought you were hallucinating, the fucker was dead. you hoped he would be. it would hurt less. but when he started coming closer you scoffed.

you couldn't do it without a drink, so you sat back and asked for straight tequila. you missed this vanishing feeling the night procured you.

logan sat next to you and asked for a drink. you refused to look at him. you wanted to punch him in the face, alright maybe you were still a little mad at him. seeing him here, and so close to you made you mad. you wanted to kill and kiss him.

"I missed you" he said, looking afar. out of all the things he could have said you weren't expecting this. you scoffed and tightened your grip on your drink.

"shut your damn mouth" you gritted through your teeth, still holding onto your drink for dear life. you had imagined what it would be like to see him again and promised to yourself that you would tell him you moved on and leave him speechless. you never thought you still loved him so deeply. you hated how he made you feel, you hated feeling weak. but you loved everything else about him, and if feeling vulnerable was the price to pay to be with him then you wouldn't think twice about it.

"I didn't have a choice" he added, this made your blood boil. you knew he was telling the truth and you had already forgave him, you just needed to hear him say it. you didn't say anything, didn't ask about the reason of his departure. you kept your mouth shut, hoping he would take the hint and leave. no you didn't want him to leave, you wanted him to think that you wanted him to leave.

"I’m sorry” he muttered. this was your last straw, your glass broke between you fingers, shards of glass flying all over the counter and cutting into your hand. you jumped, startled at your own doing. logan reached for your hand immediately but you moved it away before he could even brush it.

"fuck you" was the last thing you said before running to the bathroom. your healing factor was already pushing the glass out of your flesh but it still hurt as hell.

“let me help you” you hadn’t even hear him coming in. you smiled, amused at the situation. you terribly wanted to give him your hand but your pride told you otherwise.

“why are you here?” you whispered, almost scared that if you spoke louder he would disappear.

“I told you, I miss you”.

“of course you do, that's why you came back so quickly” you said, washing the blood off your hand. “I just know you were bored to death without me" you joked, trying to ease the tension.

logan approached and slowly put his hands on your waist, your back facing him. he then delicately planted his chin on your shoulder. “I know you won’t believe me when I tell you I did this to protect you and that’s fair but I need you by my side, I need my girl” you swore you heard a sob in his voice. you looked up, staring at your reflection in the mirror, you could see logan’s head next to yours he was looking at you. this was the first time you’ve look into his eyes since he left. and they felt like home.

you turned around slowly, facing him. you hands claimed back their place on either side of his face. wiping his tears. seeing logan cry was rare, extremely rare. you felt your heart broke at the sight. he put his hands on yours and closed his eyes, enjoying how your touch felt like after so many years. nothing changed, not his love for you nor what he felt around you.

“let me take you home” he begged

“where?”

“doesn’t matter, home is whenever I’m with you”

you knew that your james was telling the truth, and you knew that you still loved each other.

"I need time, james" you answered, even if your mind was already made you had some self respect. you were about to say something else but logan beat you to it:

“I love you” he breathed.

you kissed him passionately, making up for all the lost kisses.

"I love you most"

you were still upset about what he did, but at the end of the day, you knew he did it for a good reason and that it hurt him maybe even more than it did you, and you certainly couldn’t imagine life without him.

you both cried into the kiss, silently promising to always be on each other's side.

"come on, let's get out of here"

[iinsertblognamee]

body slam

summary ― a guy runs on the field mid-game and does the one thing that set's sam off. he touches you.

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― angst? dickhead, fluff

based off this request

You loved meeting your fans. It was one of your favourite things in the world, people coming to cheer you on - your name on their jersey. After every game, you would go to the stands, talk with fans, take as many photos and sign as many items as you could before you were called back to the changing rooms. And as much as you loved your fans, sometimes they took it too far. 

You were well into the second half of the game by now, neither Chelsea nor Juventus had yet to score any goals and both teams, as well as the fans, were getting tired. You had been sticking to the right side of the field for most of the game, a play you and the trainers had been trying out. The screaming of your name would come and go as you would move from play to play, and although you were heavy in the game, one voice kept standing out to you. 

There was something different, you couldn’t put your finger on it but that particular voice kept you on edge all game. Guro had noticed the distress almost immediately, you brushing it off - not wanting to take hers or your attention off the game at hand. 

The time moved along, minute after minute - still no points on the scoreboard for either team. The calling of your name got more aggressive as the game continued, slowly creating more space between you and the stands as you moved further into the middle. You could hear Emma calling out for you to move back into position but your gut told you to keep as much distance as you could. 

You knew the game was almost over, looking around at the girls as you attempted to catch your breath. Games like this were hard, the team putting in the effort although the scoreboard doesn’t show it. Cheers from the crowd keep you going, although you seem to miss the moment the cheers change - the sound of your name being called coming closer and closer. 

You shift your body to take a look at the voice, a man making his way over to you with his phone out. 

“Y/N I need to speak with you. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for months” 

He continues to walk towards you, you taking two steps back - almost running into Guro. You look around, the refs looking around although not seeming to make any attempt to create distance between you and the man calling out for you. 

He manages to get close enough to you, his hand reaching out to grab you as Guro pulls you into her. You catch girls from both teams coming in closer, Millie’s voice telling the guy to back off breaks through his rant. 

You remove your gaze from him, looking around for your girlfriend. Sam came into view, a frown on her face. It’s the wrong move, as before you could comprehend what has happened, you feel your head being pulled back - your body following from the force. His grip twists your ponytail as you fall into his chest. 

You hear the yells of team members from both sides, arms going in the air, as multiple people pull you out of his grip - he doesn’t let go easy, you letting out a cry as he tries to hold onto your hair tighter before ultimately letting go. Your heart is beating a million beats per second, your hand on your chest as you feel someone’s hands on your cheeks trying to grasp your attention. 

You manage to focus on the person in front of you, Guro. A frown on her face as you watch her scan over your face and body to look for any injuries. “You okay?” she asks, her hands now on your shoulders. You nod your head in response, not sure what else can be said in the moment as you break your eyes away from Guro and look for Sam once more. 

You catch sight of the man once more, although your attention turns to Sam - and almost in slow motion you watch as she charges up to him, slamming her shoulder and hip into his body and watching as he falls flat on his ass. The cheers of the stands break through your shock, the ref coming up to give Sam a yellow card and you find yourself running over to them - ready to tell the ref off. 

What the hell is wrong with them? 

You manage to catch the end of Sam’s rant with the ref, her arms up in the air as you watch her shake her head and scoff. “-He physically touched one of my players, and you two stood there and let it happen”. 

The refs attempt to argue back but Sam shakes her head once again, walking off as Millie watches past you and towards them to defuse the situation at hand. Sam and you catch each other’s eyes, and within seconds you are in her embrace. Her hands now checking all over to ensure you were okay. You let out a small wince as she grazes over the back of your head where your (loose) ponytail now sat - her lips dropping into a bigger frown. 

“It’s okay, just a little sore” 

It’s not the right thing to say, Sam’s grip on your waist hardening. 

“Shouldn’t have happened love” she mumbles, letting out a controlled breath. Something you had taught her to use whenever she was feeling stressed or frustrated in a game. You bring your hand behind her ear, bringing her closer to you as your foreheads touch.

“I’ll be okay, I have you to nurse me back to health once this game is finished” 

She lets out a small hm in agreement, her eyes closed. You can tell she’s just focusing on the breathing technique and from what you could tell it was working. 

You could feel team members from both sides coming up to you asking you if you were okay, taps on your back. The situation rips through the whole group. Soon enough the refs state that the game is to continue, and although you are physically okay - you choose to sub the rest of the game off. Cheers erupt as you walk off, the rest of your teammates waiting for you, patting you on the back as you grab a side off to the side. 

Soon enough the final whistle blows, and Sam is back in front of you within seconds - water bottle in hand. She practically forces you to take sips, as she suggests seeing a medic (which you refuse). Team members came up to ask if you were okay, some wondering what exactly had happened as they were too far away to catch the scene. You explained multiple times that you were fine, just a small headache and that you didn’t really know what had happened exactly - all that you remember was seeing the guy coming towards you and then him pulling you by your hair. 

Through the madness of team meetings, giving your reports on the incident and convincing Sam you were okay you had managed to make it home. Sam put you on bed rest as she ran around to ensure you had an icepack for your head, water and food on the bedside table and after many times of begging Sam to calm down and join you - you had your girlfriend holding you as she massaged your head. the current TV show two of you were bingeing and playing on the screen in front of you. 

Between the massage, the forehead kisses and Sam’s body heat calming you down, you drifted off to sleep - Sam joining you not long after.

[lost-in-fandoms]

A little kitten knight Max AU prompt because honestly, I will never have enough... Also, don't worry about fulfilling it any time soon, just for when the brain worms want to worm, and if they never want to, that's fine too. But I noticed, a common trend in this AU is that Max turns into his cat form when Daniel least expects it and its like a welcome surprise to him when it happens, cue cuteness and love.

So what about a time, well in their established relationship, probably when he's used to Max's shifting pattern, something happens and he's expecting Max to shift, and it doesn't happen? And Daniel is just like ???? but cat form????

OR one where Daniel is the one in the need of comfort at the time, which is rare, despite Max being the Knight Captain and supposedly the tough one, and Max tries to help him in his human form but nothing works, so he shifts into his kitten form and that's the one that does the trick...

I'm sorry, this AU really corrupted my brain now, I will shut up now and patiently wait for another bit at some point

Thank you so much for sending this! It means a lot to me that you enjoy this universe so much <3

It took me a few days, but I hope you like this! I took the two prompts and combined them into one! Also this is accidentally almost 1.8k.

Daniel loves his life.

It's not perfect, and it's not the easiest, he could do with less dead hour watches and more hours in bed, preferably with Max, but it's good. He has a group of friends he loves dearly, even if they're mostly dickheads, and the last time he lost one was because he left the guards to go live on a farm with his family, not because of war and death. The kingdom has been mostly peaceful for years, and even the occasional border skirmishes have become less frequent, mostly solved with words and carefully placed marriages and threats.

And he has Max. Max, who is his own little piece of magic, who would make this life worth it even if it was worse than this.

So yes, Daniel loves Max, and he loves his life, but sometimes... Sometimes, when the nights are long and cold, and the rain seems endless, he can't help but miss the searing hot burn of red sand and the blinding glare of the sun. Sometimes, when one of the guys leaves the castle to have a meal with his family, his own food turns to ash in his mouth, tasting nothing like the things he used to love. Sometimes, when him and Max take three days of leave to go visit his mother or his sister, he can't help but think about how three days would not even cover half of way home for him, no matter a whole round trip.

Sometimes he's homesick.

He doesn't regret leaving, doesn't regret the adventures that brought him here, doesn't regret this life, will never regret putting down roots by Max's side, but he wishes it didn't have to be that far away. He never stopped exchanging letters with his family, with his mom especially, but it's not the same. It's not the same when he thinks about how useless he'd be if someone grew sick, or died. It's not the same when, even if he'll never tell anyone, he misses his mom's arms around him more fiercely than anything.

In those times, he pulls himself away. He doesn't hang out with the others outside of his shift, he doesn't spar for fun, he doesn't sit down with them in the hazy vapor of the baths, doesn't share meals with them. It's not easier to deal with the feeling by himself, but it's not harder, and that will have to do.

He's sitting on top of one of the high towers, eyes fixed on the horizon as if he would suddenly become able to see all the way home, when Max finds him.

He's still wearing his fancy cloak, the one he wears when the King has important visitors and Max needs to look less like a random guard and more like his Captain, he must have come straight from his duties, but he still leans against the wet stone ramparts with Daniel.

For a long moment, they stand in silence. Daniel can feel Max's eyes on him, but he doesn't look, busy trying to pierce insurmountable distances.

"Are you alright?" Max finally asks, shifting closer, their arms brushing from shoulder to wrist, their fingers knocking together. Even if they're alone, it's not safe to touch any more than that, and Daniel appreciates the gesture.

He nods, not really feeling like talking, suddenly wishing Max could hold him right there. He doesn't want to take his eyes away from the horizon, doesn't want Max to move further away. He wants both, always wants both, and it would make him laugh if it was any other moment, how simply the ache in his heart can be summarised in this single moment.

Max shifts again next to him, moving his weight from one foot to another, an unusual show of hesitance from him that doesn't really surprise Daniel. As lovely as Max is, he never really knows what to say when Daniel is like this.

Where Daniel had been raised with gentle hands and words of love, Max had known bruises and reproach, and even if he's come a long way, he still struggles sometimes with reassurances and feelings.

Max shifts again, their arms no longer touching, and Daniel almost expects to look to the side and find a kitten watching him instead. It's what Max does when he doesn't know what to say to Daniel: he turns in a shape where things are easier and then pours out his love in purrs and kitten licks, cuddling as close as possible to Daniel's heart.

But when Daniel looks, Max is still there, taking off his cloak to carefully drape him across Daniel's shoulders.

Daniel shivers, surprise and sudden warmth making his chest feel weird. He hadn't even realised he was cold.

It's not quite a hug, but he accepts it with the best version of a smile he can muster at the moment, and it seems to be enough to satisfy Max. They stand on top of the tower in silence for a long time.

The feeling doesn't go away the next day. Or the one after that.

It's unusual for him to feel this heavily homesick for so many days in a row, but he doesn't know how to make it go away, and it's clear Max doesn't know either.

He's been staying as close to Daniel as possible, taking care of him in many small different ways, holding him tight when they find each other in bed, but it doesn't seem to be enough. There's an ache in Daniel's chest that doesn't go away.

He's walking through the courtyard, limbs feeling heavier than they should be even after a long watch in the city's streets, when his eyes catch on a shadow, slinking away between some crates, and he realises what it might be that he needs.

"I saw a cat earlier," he tells Max.

They're laying in bed, Daniel's head on Max's naked chest, both too tired to have sex but still needing to be close.

"Are you going to make a joke about cousins again?" Max grumbles, chest vibrating under Daniel's cheek. He doesn't have to look up to know Max is frowning and smiling at the same time.

"No," Daniel replies with a giggle, "even if..."

Max pinches him before he can finish the sentence, and Daniel yelps, squirming away and then closer again.

He takes a breath, steadying himself. He doesn't know if this is okay to ask, has never had to ask before.

"Is everything okay?" Max asks, serious again, one hand coming up to gently cup Daniel's cheek.

Daniel nods, then hesitates some more. He doesn't want to...offend Max, or something like that, but he also just. He thinks that would make it right. Maybe.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." Max's answer come so quickly Daniel would tease him for it if it was another day.

"And if I am out of line, you'll tell me?"

Finally, Max seems to have enough of this uncertainty and he moves Daniel around until he's able to meet his eyes. There's a deep frown line between his eyebrows, and Daniel almost reaches out to smooth it out.

"You are worrying me, Daniel. Just say it?"

Daniel bites at his lip for a second, but then he nods again. If he drags it out further he'll either end up not saying it at all or turning it in an even bigger thing than it needs to be.

"Can you shift?" he blurts out, almost immediately regretting not thinking of a better question.

Max's frown deepens.

"You mean...I am able to?"

Daniel shakes his head, moving his hands restlessly.

"No, I mean, could you? Right now?" He hates not knowing if he's like making an horrible faux-pas right now, but at least he's pretty confident Max won't hate him for it.

Max tilts his head, eyes studying Daniel so carefully he feels a bit like a miniature in a gilded book, understanding slowly making his way onto his face. Daniel both loves and hates how well Max knows him.

"That would make you feel better?" he asks gently.

Daniel nods again, helpless, unable and unwilling to lie.

"It..he..." Max swallows, frustrated. Daniel is glad that at least they both seem uncertain on what way is the best one to talk about this. "It's better when I am like that?"

And oh, Daniel can't have that.

He shakes his head, hands flying up to cup Max's cheeks, crashing forward to push their lips together.

"No, no! You are perfect, and I..." he kisses Max again, tries to put too much into it. "You have been great, but I think..."

"Daniel," Max calls, half a smile on his lips, grabbing Daniel's shoulders.

Daniel takes a breath, letting Max slow him down again. The next kiss is softer, sweeter. His thoughts clearer.

"I love you, like this and like that, but I would like some furry cuddles right now."

Max smile grows at his choice of words, but he gently pushes Daniel away to get himself some space, not needing to be asked twice.

"I love you too," he says, pressing one last kiss to Daniel's cheek.

And then one second Daniel is looking at his eyes, and the next he has to look down to find the small kitten already fighting with the bunched up blankets.

He laughs, helping him out of them while ignoring the disgruntled little meows. He doesn't know what it is about this, but his soul already feels more settled, lighter.

"Hello baby," he greets, laying back down on the bed in a comfortable position. He immediately feels Max climbing over him, little pinpricks of pain following his journey towards Daniel's collarbone, but he stays still, letting him do his thing.

When Max is settled down, curled up in a little furry ball next to Daniel's neck, purrs already vibrating through him, he brings up a hand to pet him softly, feeling his wet nose press against his skin in response.

He reaches over to turn off the oil lamp, letting the moon take over. He still misses his old home, still misses his family, but the pain of it has subsided in the familiar thrum that always resides between his ribs, bearable once again.

"Thank you, Maxy," he whispers in the silver darkness, brushing his cheek against Max's little body. Max just purrs louder, and Daniel smiles.

Tomorrow he will write a new letter to his mom, will ask about his nephews and about the harvest, but for now he closes his eyes, letting Max lull him to sleep.

[dragonflylady77]

Not-So Blind Date

Hiiiiiiiii!! This fic was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race

Roommates AU, Idiots in love | Rating: Teen | 5.1k

On Ao3

Billy's been in love with Steve since about twelve seconds after they met the day Billy moved into the dorms... Once they both graduated, they found jobs and an apartment. Sharing a space with Steve is both the best and the most frustrating thing in Billy’s life.  Because Billy is completely and hopelessly in love with Steve. Because Steve has no idea. Because Steve is straight.

Billy closes the front door behind him with a relieved sigh. He dumps his keys in the bowl on the sideboard and toes off his shoes.

Today sucked. As if sleeping through his alarm and spilling his coffee on his clean shirt wasn’t enough, he missed the bus and was late for work. Then it just kept getting worse, work was endlessly piling up on his desk, his favorite lunch spot was closed, he dropped sauce on his pants. That was followed by an afternoon of playing phone tag with a couple of suppliers and to top it all off, it started raining on his walk home from the bus stop.

He strips down to his boxers, dumps his clothes in a wet pile on the bathroom floor and turns the shower on before getting a towel from the hallway cupboard. 

He stops when he hears Steve’s voice. It’s unexpected because Billy is pretty sure Steve had a day shift today. He sounds angry but Billy can’t hear another voice so he must be on the phone.

“No, thank you, I’ve heard quite enough… Oh, yes, I’m sure… Whatever, dickhead… Uh huh… Yeah, have a nice life.”

Footsteps get closer and the door to Steve’s room opens before Billy has a chance to disappear into the bathroom.

Steve looks like he’s been crying, his eyes red, his cheeks blotchy, and he’s still wearing his teal scrubs.

“Oh, Billy. Hi. Didn’t realize you were home,” Steve says, startled.

“You okay, pretty boy? Do I need to break someone’s legs?” Billy feels a bit awkward standing there in his boxers, holding a towel to his chest. Exposed. He notices Steve’s gaze taking in his state of undress and it warms something in his chest. A spark of hope he quickly extinguishes.

He’s been in love with Steve since about twelve seconds after they met the day Billy moved into the dorms. Alphabet buddies, roommates and then best friends. Moving from the dorms to an apartment after they both got their degrees and found jobs seemed like a natural progression, splitting the rent and everything else. Sharing a space with Steve is both the best and the most frustrating thing in Billy’s life. 

Because Billy is completely and hopelessly in love with Steve.

Because Steve has no idea.

Because Steve is straight.

Billy brings his focus back on Steve and the current crisis.

“What happened to you?” Steve asks, his hand gesturing vaguely towards Billy’s hair, his curls dripping down his chest.

“Started pissing down on my way home from the fucking bus. Then a car drove through a puddle a bit too close to the sidewalk and I got drenched.”

“Sounds like we both had shitty days.”

“You have no idea.” Billy just wants to have a hot shower and forget today happened.

“Wanna order in and watch Justified?”

“Sounds good, Stevie.” With a grin and a nod, Billy heads to the bathroom. The hopeful part of him likes to imagine Steve is staring at his ass but he doesn’t turn around to check. The bathroom is full of steam when he steps in the shower and he lets the hot water wash away his bad mood.

*****

Steve is sat on the couch, Billy on a cushion on the floor in front of him, the empty pizza boxes discarded on the coffee table, three sad looking pieces of garlic bread left in one of them. Steve is combing curl serum into Billy’s still damp curls with his fingers. He doesn’t remember exactly how long since he started doing this for Billy, it was sometime in their second year in college, but it’s become a calming activity for both of them on bad days.

Justified is playing on the TV, Steve doesn’t know how many times they’ve watched it over the years but it’s their go-to comfort show. No matter what happens at work, Steve knows that Billy will be there when he gets home to cheer him up with take-out, beer and their favorite Deputy US Marshal.

“Hey, Stevie?” Billy asks from his spot on the floor.

“Yeah?” Steve grabs the towel he left on the armrest to wipe his hands then he pats Billy’s shoulder twice to indicate he’s done. Billy moves up to sit on the couch, sprawling next to Steve, his toes wedging under Steve’s thigh.

“Ava or Winona?” 

“Um… Gosh, I don’t know.” It’s been a while since they played the pick one game. Usually the choices are equally ghastly and the game ends in fits of laughter.

“Come on, just pick one.”

“I’m thinking!” Steve looks at the screen. They’re somewhere in season two, Winona and Raylan are tentatively dating and Boyd is boarding at Ava’s house. He thinks about both women and their motivations. “Ava.”

Billy lets out a low whistle. “Well, pretty boy, color me surprised.”

“Why? She takes no shit, rolls with the punches and adapts, and she’s very resourceful. Reminds me a bit of you actually.”

“Aww, Stevie.”

“It’s true.” Steve shrugs. “You got away from Neil and built a good life for yourself. Now we just need to find you a man.” 

And maybe, just maybe, that man could be me.  

The thought hits Steve and he freezes. He blames seeing Billy in his underwear earlier for the stray thought. He’s been doing so good ignoring them but it’s getting trickier, especially on nights like tonight when they’re both very tactile and domestic.

He got tired of telling Robin that Billy is his roommate and not his boyfriend, but it seems the more he answered her never-ending questions, the more she was comforted in the idea. It forced Steve to take stock of all the stray thoughts about Billy he’s been ignoring for, well, years, and untangle them all to realize something major about his identity. And his feelings. Something he has yet to share with Billy.

He’s not sure why he still hasn’t told Billy he’s bisexual. Every shift he’s had with Robin in the past few months, and every time they’ve seen each other outside the hospital, she’s asked him if he’d done it yet. He knows he should tell him, Billy is his best friend after all. But Steve isn’t sure he’s ready to rock the boat. Just because Billy is gay, doesn’t mean he’d be into Steve. And Steve would rather live with Billy as things are, than go through life without him, nursing a broken heart.

“Oh god, not you too,” Billy laughs as he kicks Steve’s thigh. “Heather is constantly on my ass about dating again and I am not interested.”

It’s a nice ass , Steve thinks, feeling his face heat up and hoping Billy doesn’t notice.

*****

It’s been a couple of weeks since Billy came home soaked to the bone and overheard the end of Steve’s phone call. Steve hasn’t mentioned anything but he’s been home more so Billy wonders if that means Steve is single again.

He was clearly dating someone before, even though Billy never got to meet whoever that was, which, weird. Steve tends to bring the women he dates to Friday night drinks with their group of friends, once they’ve made it past the three months mark.

They’ve taken to cooking dinner together when Steve is not working the night shift, and it’s really nice. Billy enjoys the close contact and the banter as they chop and dice and sauté. He misses it when Steve has a night shift, and always makes sure Steve has a plate of leftovers waiting for him in the fridge when he gets home.

Heather has been trying to talk him into going on a blind date with some guy her girlfriend knows. Billy told her he would if she let him meet said girlfriend, because they’ve been going out for months and Billy still knows nothing about the mystery woman. So far Heather hasn’t given up any information so Billy remains blissfully dateless.

He’s not interested anyway. He knows he should try and move on from his crush on Steve, but it’s hard to do when they live together, and he is not prepared to not have Steve in his life.

“You started without me.”

Billy turns around from the sink where he’s washing the vegetables for tonight’s stir fry. Steve is standing in the doorway, wearing Billy’s old UCLA hoodie and carrying a shopping bag. He looks tired. Billy smiles.

“Hey, Stevie, I wasn’t sure when you were coming home and you didn’t text. Sorry.” He nods towards the chopping board on the counter. “You can chop the chicken if you want.”

“Need to get changed first. I’ll be right back.”

They settle into their routine, working together to cook their meal, knowing what needs doing without having to talk about it. Once they’re sitting down on the couch with their food, and a drink, Billy puts Justified on.

“How was your day?” Steve asks and Billy shrugs.

“Tommy was his usual obnoxious self, Heather still won’t tell me anything about her girlfriend and the taco truck I like was back on our street. You?”

“Slept in, had lunch with Robin, we’re both on nights for the rest of the week, so that’s nice, makes it easier.”

“You were home late,” Billy remarks. He missed Steve, okay? Sue him.

“Sorry, should have texted you to let you know. We had lunch at that Japanese restaurant Robin never shuts up about, then she dragged me to the mall to find a present for her girlfriend for their six month anniversary and I had to talk her out of getting a kitten.”

“Oh my god!”

“Uh huh, then she tried to convince me a pet rabbit was the best idea ever.”

“Wow. Glad you were there to stop her. What did she get in the end?”

“Oh well, she walked into Victoria’s Secrets and I told her I was leaving.”

Billy laughs. “I thought you liked that shop. You were always there when you were dating that girl last year.”

Steve blushes. “That was different. I didn’t feel right discussing undergarments about my friend’s secret girlfriend!”

Not for the first time, Billy wonders about the odds of their friends both having a secret girlfriend, and if, maybe, Heather and Robin are dating each other. He told Steve about his theory and they paid attention during Friday night drinks but the two women didn’t even sit next to each other or interact all that much. Either they weren’t dating or they were really good at acting.

“Fair enough.” Billy puts his empty bowl on the floor and stretches. His t-shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of his belly and Steve’s eyes follow the motion. Billy tells himself it doesn’t mean anything, Steve is just reacting to the movement. 

“Anyway, she decided to go back another time, and we found a coffee shop because I needed some caffeine after being at the mall for so long. And that’s when she ambushed me.”

“What do you mean, pretty boy? How did she ambush you?” Billy is confused. He turns around to face Steve, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“She asked about Sam and when I said we broke up a couple of weeks ago, she tried to convince me to agree to go on a date with someone she reckons is perfect for me.” Steve sighs.

Billy’s fingers dig into his calves. So he was right, and Steve is single. And now he knows the name of the girl Steve was dating. Not for the first time, he wonders if that’s who Steve was on the phone with that night it rained so much. Steve called whoever a dickhead, an insult typically thrown at males, so maybe not.

“What did you say?” The idea of Steve going on a date with someone who isn’t him makes him want to puke.

“Told her it was too soon.”

All Billy hears is that Steve didn’t say no. And really, he has no reason to say no to Robin. Suddenly Billy can’t be in the same room.

“Sorry, gonna head to bed, long day tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay.” Steve looks at him part surprised, part sad, making Billy’s heart squeeze in his chest.

He needs to get out of here.

***

Steve can’t shake the feeling that Billy is avoiding him. For the past three weeks, Steve’s dinner has been waiting for him when he gets home from a day shift. Every time there is a note from Billy stuck to the fridge, saying he is out with Heather or in his room with a headache or other vaguely believable reasons. And Billy always seems to be on his way out whenever Steve gets up before a night shift. 

It’s starting to piss him off. He has no idea what sparked the change. And he hasn’t seen Billy in person long enough to ask him. Last night, Billy was blasting Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've) by the Buzzcocks, making Steve wonder if Billy had been seeing someone and it ended badly. The music was so loud that Billy didn’t even hear Steve knock on his door.

Maybe tonight will be the night they can sort it out. Steve is running late for Friday night drinks with their group of friends because he had to process a patient right before clocking out.

When he gets to The Upside Down, everyone is already there and Billy is in a corner with Heather, talking animatedly. They stop when they notice Steve has arrived. 

Once again, Steve wonders what the fuck is going on with Billy, and why he won't talk to him about it.

“Hey, dingus!” Robin hands him a beer as he sits down next to her. “Was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“Got delayed at work and had to stop at home first,” Steve says, taking a sip, eyes on Billy who is looking at his drink. “What did I miss?”

“Heather and Billy bitching about Tommy, mostly,” Robin replies with a shrug.

“We have news,” Nancy says, from where she’s sitting with Jonathan across the table, gathering everyone’s attention. “I, um, I got the job at the New York Times so we’ll be moving in the next month or two.”

The whole table erupts in happy shouts of congratulations. Steve feels a short pang of nostalgia at the thought that the dynamics of their group of friends will change, losing two of its core members. And now he’s worried about losing Billy on top of that.

“You okay, Stevie?” Robin asks, nudging him gently with her elbow and Steve sighs.

“Yeah… just… tired.” He keeps glancing at Billy, who is avoiding eye contact.

“Uh huh. Come help me get the next round,” she says, standing and looking at him expectantly.

Steve gets up and follows Robin to the bar, dreading the conversation he knows he’s coming.

Robin doesn’t waste any time once they get away from the table. “You told him yet?”

“Told who what?” Steve retorts, aware that his reply won’t fly with Robin. He wants to turn around to see if Billy is looking but resists the urge.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what I mean,” she says, grabbing his wrist to get his attention. “You need to tell him how you feel.”

“Why?” Steve doesn’t see why he can’t keep secretly crushing on his best friend and roommate, instead of upsetting the status quo and risking everything. But then, the way Billy has been avoiding him makes him dread the day he’ll come home from a shift at the hospital and Billy will be gone, leaving behind a note, if he’s lucky.

“Because that man has been gone on you for freaking years and you’ve been too blind to see it. And because he, at the very least, needs to know you’re not as straight as he believes you to be.” Robin squeezes his hand. “And if you won’t, then you need to find a way to move on and let him go.”

“Rob…” Steve’s heart squeezes painfully at the thought and something heavy settles in his gut.

“You can’t keep going like this, sweetie. You deserve to be happy. You both do.”

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Robin is right. He can’t live like this. He needs to do something . “Fine.” 

“Fine what?”

“Set me up on that stupid date with that guy you think is so perfect for me.”

Robin stares at him for a long time before she speaks. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Steve shrugs. “Sounds better than losing my best friend when he inevitably turns me down.”

*****

Billy needs to get out before he punches a hole in the wall.

He was having a drink before he got started on dinner prep when Steve woke up after his night shift and sprung the news on him that he was going out. On a fucking date . It took all of Billy’s control to not hurl his beer bottle at the wall.

Now Steve is getting ready and Billy locked himself in his room, pacing and trying not to scream. If Steve brings the girl home at the end of their date, Billy might have to throw himself out of the window.

He grabs his phone and texts Heather.

hank, you busy

need to get out of here

steve going on a fucking date

why is this happening to me

the universe hates me

hank

holloway

heather

come on 

i need you

please hank

i’ll jump out the window

Billy regrets having quit smoking because he’d kill for a cigarette, if only for something to do with his hands that’s not serial texting Heather or punching his pillow because he can’t make holes in the wall and risk losing the security deposit.

OMFG Blondie, calm your tits!

don’t tell me to calm down what if he brings his date home

i can’t do this i’ll pack a bag and move out while steve’s on his date

Jesus Fucking Christ, William.

First of all, you live on the first floor, so you’re unlikely to do much damage to yourself if you jump out the window.

you underestimate how much i can do out of spite

I would laugh at you so much before I called the ambulance.

you’re supposed to be my friend and you’re making fun of my pain

Ugh. Seriously, Billy, I’m out on a date with my girlfriend right now.

everyone is on a fucking date fine let me die alone

I swear to God, you are such a drama queen.

We’re at Enzo’s, come over, I’ll buy you a drink and you can crash my date, I guess.

oh so now i’m good enough to meet your girlfriend

steve just left i heard the door

Wear something nice.

why 

Because Enzo’s is a nice place and they won’t let you in if you’re wearing your sweatpants and your ratty Scorpions t-shirt.

Clean button down and your nice jacket, if you please.

heather 

William.

ugh fine

gonna have a quick shower first

If you must. Want me to get you an Uber? 20 mins?

yes please

thank you hank

love you

Love you too, Blondie.

Billy takes a quick shower and speeds through his hair care routine before putting on the clothes Heather requested. He’s ready and outside a couple of minutes before the car Heather ordered for him arrives.

He tries not to think about Steve and his date and attempts to distract himself by doom scrolling on Instagram. Steve posted a photo of a candle on a white table cloth in his stories. On the verge of tears, Billy closes the app and puts his phone in his pocket. 

Heather is waiting for him outside the restaurant and hugs him as soon as he steps out of the Uber.

“You clean up good, Blondie.”

“Fuck off,” Billy says, but there’s no anger in it. He feels drained and heartbroken. Steve is wining and dining some chick and Billy wants to cry. He’s glad Max is away, cycling the length of New Zealand with Lucas, because there’s no way he could take her ‘I told you so’ right now.

“Come on. I’ll introduce you to my girlfriend.” Heather leads them through the doors and past the maître d’. Billy looks ahead and something clicks when he spots Robin in a booth at the back of the room. Someone is sitting across from her but he can’t see who yet because they have their back to the room.

“I knew it.” 

“What?” Heather asks, glancing back at him for a second without stopping.

“You and Robin.”

Heather stops then and turns to face him. “What do you mean, you knew? You never said.”

“Both of you saying you have a mystery girlfriend you don’t wanna talk about? That no one can meet or know anything about?” Billy shrugs and manages a small smile. “I’m happy for you, but I don’t get why you felt you had to hide it.”

“Sorry. It was nice to keep it to just the two of us at first and then we weren’t sure how to tell everyone. Then it kinda became a game to see how long it would take you guys to notice and say something.”

Billy nods towards the booth where Robin is sitting. “Looks like I’m not the only one crashing your date night.”

“Oh,” Heather says, with a smile that Billy recognizes, it’s the one meaning she’s up to no good. “That’s your date.”

***

Steve is getting really frustrated with Robin. They’ve been sitting at Enzo’s for over twenty minutes and she still hasn’t told him anything about this mystery person she set him up with. She said her girlfriend is waiting outside to bring them in and encouraged Steve to enjoy his rum and coke and the complimentary breadsticks.

“Oh,” he hears a familiar voice say behind him, “that’s your date.”

He turns around and freezes on the spot, his hand gripping the table for support. Heather. Robin’s girlfriend is Heather . He remembers having many discussions about it with Billy but they could never decide whether the two were actually together or not.

There’s movement behind Heather and someone steps out beside her. Steve’s heart skips a beat. It’s Billy. He’s wearing that dark red button-down shirt that looks so good on him and his nice jacket. Steve feels his heart rate speed up.

Billy looks as confused as he does so Steve turns back to Robin. “Robin... What…what’s going on?”

“Well, Stevie, I told you that my girlfriend knew someone who’s perfect for you,” Robin says with a satisfied grin and Steve wants to shake her until she explains. He puts his hands on his thighs and squeezes them into fists. 

This is not happening.

“What the fuck do you mean, Harrington is my date? He’s the one who’s on a date, Hank, not me.”

Hearing Billy refer to him by his last name hurts, like a knife through the heart. He hasn’t done that since the first months they lived in the dorms back in college, before they became friends. Steve never expected their friendship to end in a fancy restaurant in front of an audience but apparently this is happening now and there is nothing he can do about it.

Heather shoves Billy forward and Robin gets out of the bench seat so Billy can sit there instead. He does so only after Heather glares at him and Steve takes a closer look at him. Billy still won’t make eye contact with him and Steve can tell he’s clenching his jaw, like he does when he’s angry or frustrated. Before either of them can say anything, Heather puts both hands on the table and looks at each of them in turn.

“Both of you, shut it and listen,” she starts, Robin standing by her side, looking resolute.

“Hank—” Billy starts, shutting up when Heather lifts one eyebrow and gives him a withering look. 

“No. This has gone on for far too long. I know it’s bad form to out someone but needs must. Billy, honey, Bambi here is not as straight as you think. I am not sure why he hasn’t told you yet, but I know that Robin has been on his case about it for ages. And you,” she turns to Steve and he sits up straighter. 

The woman is scary, Steve isn’t afraid to admit it. He stays silent and waits to see what she’s going to dish out.

“If you can’t see that my boy here has been gone on you pretty much since he met you, I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Robin puts her hand on Steve’s and gives him a light squeeze. “I told you the other night you couldn’t keep going like this. You and Billy need to talk. Take the time you need, enjoy your dinner and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Heather pats Billy’s shoulder then she takes Robin’s hand, and they leave the two of them alone. Steve is reeling from the exchange, his mind stuck on what Heather said to him.

“Billy…” he starts, the words dying in his throat when he sees the haunted look on Billy’s face.

“Is it true?” Billy whispers, fiddling with the ring on his finger. His cheeks are pink and his shoulders curled up like all his confidence drained away. 

It makes Steve’s chest hurt to see him like this. He reaches across the table but his hands stop just short of Billy’s. “Yeah, I’m… I’m bisexual. I, um, I was going out with this guy called Sam a couple of months ago but I broke up with him.”

“Why?” 

Billy’s voice is just above a whisper, his eyes shiny with unshed tears and Steve wants to punch himself for putting them there.

“He wanted to, um, to go all the way, and when I said I wasn't ready for that yet, he decided to get it from someone else. I found out and dumped him.”

“Okay.”

“Billy…” Steve waits for Billy to look at him and this time he slides his fingers over Billy’s. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I guess… I guess I was scared.”

“Scared? Steve, I’m gay, what did you think I was gonna say if you told me?”

Steve breaks eye contact and looks down at their hands on the table. His reason for not telling Billy seems flimsy as fuck now. “I was scared I would tell you you’re the reason I realized I was into guys and you wouldn’t feel the same way about me. And you’re too important to me and I didn’t want to risk what we had.”

Billy laughs then, but it’s a wet, sad kind of laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Billy turns his hands over and links their fingers together. “Pretty boy, I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you.”

“You… you never said anything.” Steve feels his cheeks heat up.

“Steve, you always said you were straight. I didn’t see the point. It was hard enough when I knew you were actually in a relationship with someone but when you mentioned Robin setting you up on a date the other day, I couldn’t pretend to be okay with it anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Billy. I’m so sorry.” He can’t believe he almost missed out on this. Almost lost Billy. “I realized you were avoiding me but I couldn’t work out why. Every time I came home from work, I worried you would be gone for good. And it broke my heart.”

Billy must see something on his face because he leaves his side of the table to sit next to Steve, his arm going over Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close.

“Baby… I’m sorry. It hurt too much to be around you.”

Steve wraps his arms around Billy’s waist and buries his face in Billy’s neck, inhaling the scent he knows so well, taking comfort in it. After a moment, he pulls back just enough so he can look Billy in the eye. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Billy doesn’t say anything in reply, instead he moves his hands to cup Steve’s face and presses their lips together. 

Steve melts into the kiss. He never wants it to end. He wants to climb inside Billy’s chest and live there forever. He finds that reality is so much better than any dreams he had.

A discreet cough behind them puts a stop to the kiss and they pull apart slowly. A waitress is standing by their table, holding a tablet to take their order. Steve looks at Billy, who nods with a smile.

“I’ll just… um, pay for the drinks, and we’ll be on our way, sorry for the trouble,” Steve stammers, feeling his cheeks heat up, trying to process the fact that he just made out with Billy in the middle of a fancy restaurant. Oooooops.

“That’s fine, sir, the tab for the drinks was settled earlier,” the woman says with a smile.

“Oh, okay.”

Billy squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s go home, pretty boy.”

Steve smiles before untangling himself from Billy and getting out of the seat. He feels Billy following as he gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls a twenty dollar note from it. He hands the waitress the tip and thanks her before taking Billy’s hand in his and leading the way towards the exit.

They make out against the wall while they wait for the Uber that takes them home, and pick up where they left off as soon as they walk through their front door. They kick off their shoes and take off their clothes in record time then tumble in a tangle of limbs onto Billy’s bed.

Steve is naked with the man he loves and they’re kissing and laughing and dry humping like teenagers and he doesn’t remember ever feeling this happy and content with anyone.

Later, when they’re both sated after a couple of orgasms each, they pad to the kitchen in their boxers. Billy makes them chocolate mug cakes that they eat with ice cream under a blanket on the couch. Phones turned off to keep the bubble they’re in intact, they put on Justified.

“Hmmm…” Bill says, looking at the screen with a smirk.

“What?” Steve asks, half expecting what comes next.

“I guess I should have asked Ava or Boyd, really.”

Steve groans as Billy cackles, the blanket falling off them.

“Dick,” Steve says, punching him playfully in the shoulder. “Okay, Raylan or Boyd?”

Billy pretends to think about it, Steve can tell. Then he looks at Steve, all serious. 

“You.”

~~~

Please look forward to the wonderful work from the next contributor: @lorifragolina

[throneofsapphics]

have your little girlfriend, part five

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods only know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now. 

Word Count: ~6.5k 

Warnings: darkish aelin/rowan, possessiveness, toxic relationships, minors injuries/mentions of blood, smut, thigh riding, nsfw, minors dni!

A/N: honestly idk where this is going, i’m just writing on vibes, but reader still has a backbone. this got deleted somehow :(, special thank you to @moonlightttfae

series masterlist

“I’ll be with Fenrys,” she said. It was another iteration of the same conversation they’d had the last three days. Her bringing up visiting home, Aelin and Rowan not disagreeing or agreeing, but questioning the safety of it. Technically, she supposed she didn’t need their permission, but it would be much easier if she could convince them to agree. Would they drag her back to Orynth if she left on her own? She didn’t want to find out. Her eyes shuttered closed. She wouldn’t give up on this, she needed to see her family. Needed to get some space. Fenrys had offered to speak to them, but she wanted to handle this on her own. To fight her own battles. 

She had an idea. One she would surely regret. “What if …” she swallowed harshly, “I agreed to train with you,” she directed her gaze towards Rowan first, and then Aelin. 

“Without complaining?” Rowan leaned back, crossing his arms. 

“I’ve never complained,” he raised one brow at her. Maybe she had, once or twice. “It’s not my fault you’re …” she tried to find a nicer word to say. 

“Ah asshole?” Aelin offered. “Dickhead? Bastard?” Rowan cut a glare at her, but she only grinned. 

“Harsh,” you settled on. 

“I promise I'll be …” Rowan’s the one who couldn’t find a word this time. She pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. “Considerate.” 

Aelin chuckled. “How kind of you, your Highness.” 

She straightened in her chair. “I’ll train with you,” she tapped her fingers on the table. “Three times.” 

“Seven,” he countered. She started low on purpose. 

“Five.” 

“Ten.” 

Gods-damned in. Aelin only looked on amusement. Ten times. She had to leave in twenty days. Between work, spending time with them, and her friends, she didn’t quite have time to train everyday. Well, not in the way Rowan likes to train - grueling sessions, at least three hours.  

“Seven.” She countered, he looked like he was going to raise it further, but Aelin fixed him with a look. 

“Fine,” he grunted. 

-

The weeks leading up to the visit, she spent so much time in her animal form it began to worry Rowan. He remembered the ten years he spent in his … after Lyria’s death. Maybe she was still healing - from everything she’d lost during those ten years. Her parents, several of her family members. He glanced down at the white fox, curled up next to his desk, snoring softly. She looked peaceful, and at ease. 

She was leaving in three days and something in his chest clenched at how far away she’d be, at how he wouldn’t be there if anything happened. Or how difficult it would be to get to her. Aelin had threatened Fenrys so thoroughly he didn’t need to do it. As much as the male could annoy him sometimes, he trusted him with his life, and more importantly with hers. If anything happened to her, he’d make him regret being born. 

He called her name softly, and her head raised, pretty eyes blinking away the haze of sleep. “Shift back,” to his surprise, she actually listened - and didn’t look too upset at his order. 

“You interrupted a perfectly good nap,” her fists rubbed at her eyes, lips turning into something between a frown and a pout. 

His mouth turned up at the corners, and he held out a hand. “I missed you.” 

Her eyes softened, and she took it, letting him tug her into his lap. She nestled her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck, he had one arm wrapped around her, the other still shuffling through reports he had to get through by the end of the night. A few more days, and everything should calm down for the holidays. But by then … she’d be gone. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but her breaths had evened out, body relaxing into him, and he was reluctant to interrupt her sleep. Again. Rowan pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

The door swung open, and from the corner of his eye he saw Aelin striding in - looking both irritated and exhausted. She paused, tilting her head to look at the two of them, before a small smile creeped onto her face. Aelin had certainly come a long way, managing to curb most of her jealousy surrounding y/n, at least with him. 

“I’m stealing her,” her eyes said. He narrowed his. “You’ve had her for the last few hours.” 

“She just shifted back.” 

“And?” Aelin shot him an irritating grin, making her way to their side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She perched up on his desk, shoving some of his papers out of the way. 

Y/n stirred in his lap, lifted her head up. She beamed as she saw Aelin. Looks like Aelin wouldn’t have to steal her anyway. Aelin leaned forward, balancing precariously, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, before sliding off the table. 

She cupped one hand around her cheek, tilting y/n’s head to deepen the kiss, the other female moved, brushing against him. His teeth tug into his bottom lip as he bit back a groan, hardening beneath her. The little devil noticed, because she moved again, more intentionally. His hands gripped her hips, holding her firmly in place, she was straddling his leg now, back arching as Aelin kept pulling her closer. Fuck. 

He kissed down the side of her neck, scraping his canines over her pulse point. Rowan kissed over the two small scars on her neck. His mark. Where he’d claimed her. How everyone would know exactly who she belonged to. 

Her arousal started dripping on to him, her hips wiggling to try and get some release, some friction. He dug his fingers into her hips in warning, and she stopped. Aelin let out an edged chuckle. She was always amused by how easily y/n listened to him. Well, how she listened when she wanted to. 

“Please,” her voice was breathy, and he knew she was asking him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her back to meld her body against his. Aelin leaned back against the desk, hands gripping at the wood - lips swollen. 

“Let her.” Aelin shot him a look. She was always soft when it came to her. 

“Go on,” he told her, and pushed gently between her shoulder blades, landing a gentle swat on her thigh. “If you want it that badly, take it.” 

Her head twisted over her shoulder, tilting her head at him. 

“Ride his thigh, petal,” Aelin said. 

He groaned in mock frustration, before gripping her hips again, helping her to start moving. 

“Don’t be mean,” Aelin tutted at him. Rowan ignored her, focusing on y/n, currently growing bolder with her movements, rocking her hips back and forth over them, soft moans and whimpers leaving her throat. Aelin’s fingers white knuckled against the wood, fighting the urge to step in, but flames danced in her eyes, lust glazing over as she watched, scenting the same arousal he did. Three different scents mixing through the room, flooding it. It was strong enough that anyone would know better than to knock. If they wanted their head still attached to their shoulders. 

As much as he liked to tease Aelin, he was equally territorial over her. If anyone else even glimpsed her like this, he’d rip their gods-damned eyes out. 

“I’m close,” she panted, “please please please,” 

“Go on,” Aelin said before he could answer, winking at him. His eyes rolled, but he tightened his grip on her hips, helping her move faster, harsher. 

Her thighs clenched around him, body stiffening, and Aelin leaned forward to swallow her moans, letting her ride out her pleasure. As soon as she started to come down, started to relax - muscles loosening, Aelin swiftly gripped under her thighs, pulling her up into her arms. Y/n laughed as her legs wrapped around her waist, arms draping over her shoulders. 

“You’re invited,” Aelin said over her shoulder as she headed for their bedroom, a sheet of golden hair swishing behind her. Hair he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers into. The other female buried a laugh, tucking her head into her neck. He scowled. Aelin’s well aware he still has work to finish. A wink, and she disappeared, kicking the door shut behind her. 

-

The next three days passed quickly, and a few tears slipped down her face as she left, but she managed to wipe them away before Aelin or Rowan could see. She would miss them, absolutely, but she was incredibly excited for the trip. For the chance to get to see everyone again - and to visit her home. Well, Orynth was her home, but so was out there. In the mountains, far beyond any of the hustle and bustle of the cities. 

Fenrys shifted first, and she followed - taking off at a steady trot. They traveled in peaceful silence, listening to the various bird calls, water from the streams splashing on stone, pattering of paws against snow. 

Freedom, that’s what this felt like. Majority of their journey was spent in their animal forms - the easiest way to stave off the cold. They hadn’t brought much food with them, knowing they could hunt for whatever they needed. 

They only shifted as they approached the village, a mile or so out. Fenrys had shivered, wrapping his cloak tighter around him. She nudged him in the ribs, “at least act tough, brother.”

He cut a nasty glare at her, but she shot a grin back his way. Y/n thought about making it a surprise, but ended up sending word ahead that she’d be coming with Fenrys. They’d remember him, of course. He’d already made several trips this far north for his duties as Emissary. Although this one was more pleasure than business. 

“Nervous?” He asked, glancing at her. 

She swallowed and nodded. “It’s been a while.” 

Fenrys gave her a side hug, a silent it’ll be fine. She appreciated it. He released his arm as they approached the village, a female sprinting out towards her with a squeal. 

Her cousin, Lida. She shoved her pack into Fenrys’s arms, ignoring his oof, and sprinted towards her. 

-

The decorations in Orynth were beautiful. They always were this time of year, but something was missing. Someone was missing. Rowan held her hand, running his thumb over the back of her palm. 

“We’ll make sure she’s here next year,” he murmured, voice soft enough only she could hear. 

“Every year,” Aelin corrected. “I don’t want her to leave again.” 

“Neither do I,” Rowan said hesitantly, “but we need to be careful.” 

Maybe it’s wrong. It’s definitely wrong. But, Aelin hoped she was feeling as miserable as she was - was missing her just as much. There’s nothing wrong with wanting her mate close by. 

A muscle in her jaw flexed. She was surrounded by all of her court - her family, but without her it didn’t feel complete. Without her and Fenrys. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth, and refocused her attention on Lysandra’s story. Something about the local ghost leopard population. 

-

“Are you ready to be home?” Fenrys asked. They had about three hours left, and decided to travel the rest of the way in Fae form.  

“I don’t know,” she gave an honest answer, not looking at him. “It was nice to see everyone, and I missed them, but …” 

“You’re not certain how they’ll … be,” he finished for her. Y/n nodded at him, lips pressing into a tight line. Part of her feared Aelin and Rowan wouldn’t let her go again, and she told Fenrys that. 

“I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he’d replied. No promises or guarantees, and she appreciated that. The blanket honesty he always came with. He’d fight for her, she knew that, but if Aelin or Rowan put their minds to something - there isn’t much either of them could realistically do about it. 

The gates came into view, two figures along with it. Aelin had broken into a sprint. Fenrys quickly tugged the straps of her pack off her shoulders, and she sprinted to meet her halfway. 

The impact sent her stumbling back a few feet, but Aelin wrapped her arms around her waist, holding her upright. She breathed in her scent, letting jasmine and lemon verbena overtake her senses. Her mate. The bond between them thrummed with joy, that they were together again - reunited. Like it was mad at her for spending time apart. Another warm body caged her in, somehow managing to twist her around in Aelin’s grip, her face turning to press against a hard chest. He laid a kiss down on the top of her head. 

They didn’t need words to explain it. She felt it - their relief that she was back now, and safe in their arms. The pure possession in their touch filled some part of her, the wanting to be desired - to know her mates claimed her as much as she did them. How she proudly wore her mating marks - never making an effort to hide them, never disguising her scent, wrapped up in theirs so thoroughly everyone knew who she belonged to. As much as she was theirs, they were hers. 

She didn’t protest as Rowan slung her up over his shoulder, tapping her ass lightly as she laughed. He carted her right off to the bedroom, Aelin hot on their heels, and showed her just how much they missed her. 

-

She was still sleeping when Aelin snuck out, no doubt exhausted from the trip and traveling back. Trudging through the forest and snow for days was enough to exhaust anyone - even in animal form. The first person she sought out was Fenrys - who apparently was expecting her, and asked her what took so long. 

“Tell me how it went,” Aelin instructed him. The male let out a slow breath. “All of it.” Aelin added, and his face tightened. Whatever it was, he wasn’t keen on telling her - and a few years ago she may have felt a bit guilty, but when it comes to her mate she wants to know everything. 

“They were very welcoming, and thrilled to see her. She … came alive.” Y/n did seem to be glowing. “It took some convincing to get her to stick to our original itinerary.” 

Aelin could read through those lines easily, she didn’t want to leave. 

“Aelin,” Fenrys cautioned as she felt resentment build up inside of her. “She needed it, she’s already lost so much -” 

“She has us,” she interrupted, but he ignored it. 

“And her family needed her.” Aelin swallowed harshly. He knew exactly what strings to pull. A duty to her people as well, and if some of them needed her mate’s presence, she couldn’t easily deny it. Her oath to the country wouldn’t allow her. “They’re true northerners,” Fenrys switched subjects, “I don’t think I’ve ever been that hungover before. I’d bet gold her family could drink you or Aedion under the table.”

He went on to describe some kind of homemade liquor or wine they made, strong and dangerous apparently. You couldn’t taste the alcohol in it, but luckily y/n had stopped him after the third glass - telling him her family was getting him that wasted on purpose, to test him out.

-

“How was your trip?” Rowan asked, sitting down at the breakfast table. He’d been reluctant to let go of her, at all, and currently she was perched in his lap. He needed the closeness, to feel her body against his - to know she was here and present. 

“It was good,” she said hesitantly, glancing between the two of them, her neck arching to search his face. He ran his knuckles down the column on her neck, her pulse fluttering beneath them. 

“Just good?” He raised her brows at her. 

“Wonderful. I missed them. It’s beautiful out there.” 

“Can’t be as pretty as Orynth,” Aelin mused, taking a sip of her tea. Y/n gave her a small smile, but didn’t comment. He narrowed his eyes at his wife, tucking y/n’s head back into his chest so she wouldn’t see their silent argument. She could always read the words in their eyes, so he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, sure enough her eyes closed at the touch, a small sigh leaving her lips. He’d taken his sweet time to learn all of her reactions, how every touch affected her. 

Are you going to say anything? Aelin teased him. She also knows what he’s doing now. If y/n does, she hadn’t said anything, but he suspects she doesn’t. 

I know what you’re trying to do. Turquoise and gold eyes narrowed at him. Aelin wanted her to say she liked Orynth more, or put some kind of primary claim on their city. Wanted some kind of assurance that she wouldn’t up and move back out there. This is still her home. 

Aelin didn’t look wholly convinced. His arms tightened around her. She’d tried to leave once, when it was just her and Aelin, and he knew that fear always settled in the back of his wife’s mind. That she’d slip through a crack, through their fingers, and they’d lose her. 

I can’t lose her. Aelin said, as if she’d read his thoughts. 

We won’t. 

-

She knew they were speaking, having some sort of silent conversation. Rowan doesn’t know she’s aware of his little trick, but she’s more observant than he gives her credit for sometimes. She’ll never tell them she’s aware of it. Because, even if she can’t hear it - knowing when they’re having it, and what circumstance, tells her plenty. It’s obvious they’re speaking about her - they’ve never hidden talking about state matters in front of her.  

She let out a yawn, covering her mouth. “It’s good to be home,” she mumbled into his chest. “Can we take a nap?” 

“You slept twelve hours,” Aelin chided. 

She twisted her head enough to see her. “And I’ve been running for a week.” 

Her mate’s mouth curved up at one side. “Fair enough.”

-

She waited six months before approaching the subject again, and did so casually over dinner. She hadn’t approached Fenrys yet, but figured she could thro the idea out there. “I’m thinking about visiting again, soon.” 

As expected, they both went preternaturally still. They were going to have the exact reaction she hoped they wouldn’t, but realistically knew they would. 

“Why?” Aelin asked, too casually. 

“I miss them.” She frowned. Wouldn’t that be obvious? 

“You have us.” She countered. “You just saw them at yulemas.” 

“I’d like to see them more, It’s not enough just to -” 

“We’ve always been enough. What’s different now?” Aelin hissed at her. 

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” she snapped. “I need my friends, I need my family, I need you. You can’t expect me to pick and isolate myself from everyone else.” They seemed ready to cut in, but she kept going, “I was embarrassed at how shocked they were to see me,” tears built in her eyes. Her tears were always Aelin’s weakness, and sure enough the female’s face softened - even as Rowan’s remained a solid wall of stone.

“Stop. Crying.” Rowan said through gritted teeth. That only made the tears fall heavier. He didn’t seem to give a damn. “If you’d quit being emotional, we could actually talk about this.” 

She shoved her chair back, rising to her feet. They both rose with her, her fists clenched at her side. “There’s nothing wrong with crying or being emotional.” 

“It keeps you from thinking clearly,” he countered. 

She needed to get out of here. The tension in the room was stifling. Maybe it made her a coward to flee, but she couldn’t, couldn’t handle this right now. She made it one foot from the door, before a shield of flames blocked her exit. White hot anger and rage filled her, how dare she? Slowly, she turned back to face them. Neither of them looked apologetic, or like they thought anything about this was wrong. 

“We need to talk about this.” Rowan said mildly. 

She didn’t care. Maybe she was overreacting, but at this point common sense left her. “I don’t want to talk,” her voice rose, “I want space.” 

“I don’t give a fuck.” Aelin matched her pitch, crossing the room to stand before her. 

-

Rowan watched his two mates scream at each other. Normally, he would’ve interfered by now - diffused the situation, but he was pissed. She wanted to leave them, after she’d just gotten back. Six months is a decent amount of time, but every minute away from her hurt. Did the bond not feel as urgent to her as it did to them? 

“You leave for weeks at a time, why can’t I?” 

“We have duties to our country,” Aelin seethed. 

“I have a duty to my family. Are they not as important?” 

“You’d choose them over us?” Rowan cut in, moving to stand next to Aelin. He wasn’t being fair, and he knew that - but he didn’t care right now. All of their tempers were too hot. 

“I refuse to choose.” 

“And if you had to?” He cocked his head. He wouldn’t make her choose, but he wanted to know the answer. 

She shook her head rapidly, “don’t make me answer that.” 

“It’s a mating bond. You. Can’t. Leave.” Aelin said through gritted teeth. 

Her face was flushed, fists still clenched at her side. “I’m not fucking leaving. Get it through your head.”

“Watch your tone,” he snarled. 

Aelin surged forward, gripping her chin with one hand, and kissed her. Y/n stiffened beneath her, but her body reacted on instinct, lips moving against Aelin’s. He watched - almost in slow motion, as her mind caught up with what was happening, and she shoved Aelin off. 

”You don’t get to kiss me to shut me up.” 

He saw red. 

-

Aelin felt Rowan’s anger, and held up a hand before he could do something he might really regret. He paused, he’d been mid stride heading closer to y/n, and took a step back, body tight and stiff. 

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, half-heartedly. 

“You’re not,” she countered coolly. Aelin shrugged, but noticed how she watched Rowan with pure … terror. She’d never looked that afraid of him before. 

“Rowan won’t do anything to you.” 

Her shoulders relaxed, slightly. Rowan couldn’t hurt her, not really, but she knew if y/n made Aelin upset - hurt her in any way, the blood oath reacted to a potential threat against his Queen. The last thing she needs is for her to be afraid of him, for any more damage to be done. She never wanted to find out whether a blood oath or mating bond would be stronger. Gods know it might take months to unravel the mess they’re in now.

She thought about that time, years ago, when she originally tried to leave. She’d needed to figure out how to keep her, and keep her happy in the process. Aelin had an innate fear that she might leave one day and never return. Politics wouldn’t let her storm into the staghorns and take her back. The bond would likely bring her back, eventually, but she didn’t want to take that chance. 

“Let’s find a compromise,” she offered. 

“Why do I have to compromise when it comes to my family?” She was still spitting mad. Aelin winced at the bitterness in her tone. “Just give me some space, Aelin.” 

The wall of flames still blocked the exit. 

“So you can run away?” Rowan had crossed his arms, but not moved an inch. 

Hurt and betrayal filled her eyes. “You really think I’d leave you?” 

“I don’t know,” she gave her an honest answer. She owed it to her not to lie. Owed her that respect, even if it hurt her. She circled around them, giving Rowan an especially wide berth, and headed towards the bedroom. She watched her, not trailing after her. If she wanted space, she could have it in here - or in the castle. The door closed behind her, and she heard the lock snick closed, as if that might actually keep them out. 

-

Early summer, and the sun was still bright - despite the late hour, soothing and warm on her skin as she braced her hands on the balcony railing. Tilting her head up to feel the sun, her mind replayed the encounter. She hated fighting with them, hated it so gods-damned much. And hated that she could see where they were coming from. 

Choosing. She knew the answer they wanted to hear, of course, but refused to give it to them. He had no right to ask that of her. It’s like asking them to choose between Terrasen and her, and that’s something she’d never request. Not in an eternity, not for the entire life they’d get to live together. Mainly because she knew the answer. Aelin would never abandon her country and neither would Rowan. But, the difference is she’d never make them choose. 

Gods, she’d lost too much already. Her family, the ones left, are something she can’t stand to lose as well. Part of her, a part she needed to shove deep, deep down, was tempted to leave for a while - to prove a point. She pressed her head down against the railing. Prove that she could leave and come back. That she was still capable of having a life outside of them. But who was she proving that to? Herself or them? 

Would it serve any purpose? If she really wanted to go, would they let her? If they dragged her back, it would break her but if they let her go, it would too. 

Maybe some part of her is broken, for even thinking of testing them like that - of putting them and herself through that kind of pain.

The perfect phase had passed, and everything was shattering around her. The sun was setting before her, she needed to do something. Maybe they’d “let” her go down to her workshop. Or she’d argue with them enough til they either had to let her go or knock her out. 

“I’m going down to my shop,” she announced as she strolled back through, sparing a passing glance at them. She seethed internally as Rowan gave her a quick nod. It was probably acknowledgement rather than permission, but everything was out of sorts for her now. Everything was skewed. Her mind shut off as her feet took the usual path, through back halls and servants passageways, avoiding all occupants of the castle. 

Slowly, she opened the door. Everything in here was just as she’d left it this afternoon. Down to the tools strewn around the place, as if she knew she’d need to come back later. Aimlessly, she wandered around the space they’d created for her. 

Something snapped. Tomorrow, she wouldn’t be able to tell how she got to that point, but as soon as she picked up an object - a glass ball, painstakingly painted with small intricate designs - she threw it across the room, watching it shatter on the floor. 

It felt good. She picked up another, and another, watching them all smash to the floor - into a thousand tiny shards.

She didn’t hear the door open, didn’t hear the low curses, but heard her name. She whirled around, ball still in hand, arm cocked back. Fenrys. He held both hands up, taking slow steps towards her. His eyes scanned the room, picking up on all of the shattered glass behind her. She took a step back, and back, not registering the glass digging into the bottom of her feet, when did she lose her shoes? Her balance faltered, sending her careening forwards, knees digging into the glass. The pain didn’t register. 

Fenrys called her name again, eyes pleading. She froze, and recognized the look. Haunted by something in the past, in his past. His boots crunched, glass breaking further beneath him. Y/n let him take the small ball left from her hand, watched as he slowly placed it on the table before coming back, offering a hand out to her. 

She took it, rising up to her feet - wincing at the first hint of pain. “Don’t take me to them. Please.” 

He only nodded at her, and carefully picked her up - minding the shards of glass still sticking from her skin. She didn’t feel anything as he took a pair of tweezers, plucking the small bits out. Her body healed quickly, not leaving a scratch behind. He found a washcloth somewhere, wiping the blood away - any last reminders of what happened as well. Finally, he took a seat down across from her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head. “Do you need to talk about it?” 

Her throat bobbed, constricting almost painfully, and she nodded. An arm reached across the table, palm facing the ceiling. She placed her hand in his, letting him squeeze, and everything spilled. With the exception of her thoughts about leaving, because Aelin could easily ask him - and he’d feel obligated to tell. But, she could tell he saw where her mind went. 

“I know what they’re doing is wrong,” he started - and she heard the but. “This isn’t an excuse,” he took a deep breath, “Rowan lost Lyria, almost lost Aelin several times, and Aelin almost lost you. That’s what they’re scared of the most.” 

He let the words settle in, waiting patiently for her thoughts. 

“They really thought I'd leave. Permanently.” 

He paused, leaning back in his chair. “You need to make them believe you won’t, that’s the only way they’ll loosen up.” 

“What am I supposed to do? Take them home with me?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’re always reluctant to meet my friends, or family.” 

Fenrys let out a big sigh. “Then pester them until one of them comes with you.” 

“It’s a long trip,” she frowned. A long time for one of them to be away from the capitol - and to leave the other completely alone. That would only brew jealousy. 

Fenrys leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Whitethorn will visit Allsbrook at some point - likely next time the Bane is nearby there. We’ll time our visit - get him to fly his ass over the mountains, a quick trip.” 

“You really think there’ll be a next visit?” 

“I do try to go there frequently,” he grinned. Fenrys had gotten along well with her cousin, who had visited Orynth once in the last few months. She refused to ask any questions about it. “We’ll make it before the next snow hits - the trip will be shorter, you’ll end up away for less time.” 

She groaned, leaning forward to press her head against the table. “I don’t know if it’ll work,” she mumbled. 

“I’ll make it work,” he promised her. “Let me do the talking this time. You and your family are alternating now, correct?” 

She’d forgotten about that. They’d talked about alternating who visits where for holidays, and she couldn’t make a promise - but they’d told her they’ll be in Orynth this coming yulemas. “We’re going to try to,” she muttered, still not moving her head. 

Fenrys rose, and she finally lifted her head. “I’ll take you back up, then i’m having a little chat with their majesties.” 

“Anything I can do to change your mind?” 

He gave her a forced grin and shook his head. 

-

Aelin lifted her head as the door opened, revealing both Fenrys and y/n. Immediately, she noticed the small spots of blood - one on the edge of her dress, one on Fenrys’s hand. The male sent her and Rowan a warning glance, shaking his head once. Y/n didn’t look at them as she headed right for the bathroom. Against all of her instincts, she didn’t follow. Not with the look Fenrys was pinning them with. She heard the tap running, starting a bath. 

“I need to show you something,” Fenrys muttered, jerking his head towards the door. They were both on edge as they followed him. He led them right down to her workshop, and turned his head slightly. “Don’t lose your shit.” He paused, hand on the doorknob. And blinked. She counted, five times. This is real. Her heart dropped to her stomach. What the hell happened? 

Glass. Broken glass covering the entire floor. And blood - y/n’s blood. 

“This is what I walked into.” He said quietly. “She’s like a sister to me, and I don’t know what you’re doing to her, but for fucks sake. Fix whatever the hell it is.” He met Rowan’s glare head on, but she could only stare at the room. 

Aelin swallowed harshly, and could only stare. Had he picked all of the glass out of her? Waited until she healed? Cleaned the wounds for her - like they were supposed to. Months, she’d spent months making all of those little glass balls, and only one remained. Decorated with the Lord of Terrasen, a flame between his antlers - green forest in the background. Yulemas decorations.  

“Why didn’t you bring her to us?” She could sense Rowan’s temper flaring. 

“She asked me not to.” He was leaning back against the wall, eyes still fixed on the glass. “But she managed to get out some of her rage. Anyway, I wouldn’t dare tell you what to do-” 

“Yes you would,” Rowan interrupted him, and Fenrys snorted - rolling his eyes. 

“But maybe consider getting your heads out of your asses. Don’t get me wrong - she’s no angel right now, but try and figure it out.” 

Aelin hissed at the small insult against her mate, and he let out an edged chuckle, before sweeping his gaze back over the room. There was still a haunted look in his eyes, and she knew exactly where he was taken back to. Rowan looked between the two of them, and left without another word. 

“Are you still banned from cleaning up in here?” Fenrys asked her after a few minutes. She huffed out a laugh, but nodded, and watched as he grabbed a broom - starting to sweep all of the glass into a pile. 

“Keep the glass,” she murmured quietly. He tilted his head at her. “She might want to make something else out of it.” He didn’t question her, and she stood as moral support. They talked about everything and nothing - carefully avoiding speaking of y/n. If Fenrys was her confidant, she wouldn’t push him for answers now, even if she desperately wanted to. The back of her head hit the wall as she looked up at the ceiling. If she wanted to know something, she’d ask her directly. 

-

Rowan came in silent, and she tensed - still in the bathtub. He stopped in the doorway. “That was stupid.” 

At least he didn’t mince his words. 

“It was therapeutic,” she countered. He didn’t reply, but his eyes scanned over her body, and she felt his magic reach out - checking for any kind of lingering injuries. 

“You spent months on those,” he finally said. “Why?” 

She leaned forward, pressing her cheek against her knees, arms tugging them close to her body. The water was already cold, and a small shiver went down her spine. “I don’t know. It’s all a blur.” 

He saw the goosebumps down her spine, and grabbed a towel before striding over towards her. He stopped a foot away as her body tensed. “I won’t hurt you,” he promised. 

His rough and calloused palm was warm against her skin, and she let him help her out of the bath. He started running the towel over her body, and she tried to snatch it from him. “I can do that myself.” 

He pinned her with a look, and continued, gesturing for her to turn around. She grumbled the entire way, but laughed as he gently swatted her ass. It felt so … normal, and she leant into that feeling, the moment, and didn’t let the events of the last few hours taint it. 

By the time Aelin came back, she was already in bed - half asleep, half sprawled on top of Rowan, his hand running soothing strokes up and down her back. Wordlessly, they’d agreed to table it until tomorrow. Until everyone had a clear head. 

She blinked her eyes open as the sheets rustled, Aelin slipping in beside her.

Aelin pressed a kiss against her forehead, murmuring “tomorrow,” before moving closer, caging her in between the two of them. 

-

She woke the next morning, wincing at the nausea in her stomach. There was a slight cramp in her legs as well. But .. she’d only had her cycle a week ago, she wasn’t due another one for six months. And, she took her tonics like clockwork. Carefully, she untangled Aelin’s arm from her waist, awkwardly climbing over her, and slid towards the edge of the bed. She’d planned on an early start, to re-stock after her little episode. 

Her feet hit the soft carpet, toes wiggling against it. Gods, she hated dragging herself out of bed in the morning, especially if the two of them were still sleeping next to her. Turning her head over her shoulder, she spotted half-lidded and wary green eyes watching her. She fought the urge to roll her own, he was watching at her like she might flee. Not entirely unreasonable, but he didn’t know that. 

As she stood, pain shot up her legs, ricocheting as her muscles seized. She let out a small yelp, before crumpling forwards, barely tucking her arms in time to avoid breaking her wrist. Rowan was there in an instant, Aelin a second or two behind him. He fell to his knees before her, carefully propping her up with one arm as his magic ran over her. His nostrils flared slightly. “You’re settling.” 

-

A shield of wind covered the room on instinct. 

Rowan saw her eyes widen, tears starting to fill them, the scent of her fear filling the room. Aelin had settled shortly before she met y/n, and it was a difficult process to say the least. It wouldn’t be his first time helping someone through it. He knew how dangerous it was. How vulnerable Fae were during it. She could lose control of her power, or lose her power entirely throughout the process. 

Meeting Aelin’s eyes, her expression mirrored his thoughts. If she thought they were overbearing before … he turned back to y/n. “It’ll be fine,” he assured her, stroking one hand through her hair. “You’re not alone.” 

Months of her body re-ordering its aging process and magic re-adjusting. If she lost her magic .. although he didn’t think she would, it would wreck some part of her. She relied on it for some of her crafts as well, a large portion of which she’d just destroyed. 

She’d already lost it for ten years. To get it back, and have it taken away again … he shoved the thoughts from his mind. If it came to that, they’d handle it. In the meantime - he’d do everything he could to prevent it. 

[obviousbaitfish]

woooow they blocked me. i dont know why i followed that person in the first place. i think theyre both assholes. oh well. anyone who Just Posts AI art is probably a dickhead anyway, disabled or no (though talking about killing yourself for a paragraph is giving emotional manipulation to me). Stay mad, stay miserable, im sure youll find comfort in each other with your shitty attitudes.

I'm not here to discuss the ethics of AI or anything I'm coming at it solely from an art discussion place (and environmental sometimes), which is that it's completely soulless and has no thought into it. Effort? To get the right prompt? Maybe. But it doesnt inspire thought or discussion as an art piece. Oh cool. It's a squid. It's a white women looking at a 3/4 angle. With the same kinda bland, flat, art style. Anyway.

Duchamps's Fountain isnt high art. It took no effort. It's a toilet he probably found in the trash. But it inspires discussion that's lasted like... decades. It's one of my favorite pieces because people STILL get mad about it. DaVinci has a similar art style, even - im not a fan of it. Realism, but kinda flat. It is much darker and more neutral though. Soft shading, soft colors. But there's a reason it intrigues people. It's studied portraits of people who existed. At least that's why it intrigues me. were they family? a friend? maybe it was a commission? why did they think that was the most flattering portrait for them if it was? If they didnt EXIST and it's solely the artists imagination, how'd they get that angle? That pose? What inspired this idea? The effort they put into the physical aspect can be a part of it. But then why is Fountain so iconic? The hardest physical part of THAT was lugging it to the gallery.

Maybe THATS why they were so mad. They realize there was no soul in it. The only thing they can bother to create is so menial and pointless. They can type little prompts into a bar and turn up with... something "physical". But theres nothing behind it. They cant explain why they painted the tree that color, or the women has that expression. The robot did that. They can say "I wanted it that way - i saw it on my way home" but I dont know... that doesnt have the same zing. It's not showing me what YOU saw. It's showing me what it's lumped together from 15,000 results for "green tree" on google. I think maybe that's it. Art in any form comes from the mind of a person - no matter how complicated or "good" it is. It's from the direct point of view. A kindergartener draws their family and it sucks but it's like a little snapshot of how they saw that particular moment. They noticed the bright sun and grass and drew it. You can get a robot to do that, but then that's from X amount of people's point of view that it's dredging from. Not yours. You typed in "bright sunny day green grass happy family" but that's not YOUR view of that snapshot in time. Even if it's not from something irl it's a little snapshot into the person's mind, how they were feeling, what colors they liked... a AI cant do that because it's a separate entity doing it.

Anyway. I dont know what moods inspired this. I think I just miss my art history classes and stuff. I'm not smart enough for like ethics or philosophy but art history I can get behind.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Happy Birthday to the lovely @estrellami-1 I hope you're feeling better and that you're having a wonderful day ❤️

Eddie wasn't sure who the party was supposed to be for, he wasn't sure Steve knew either to be fair. It was someone's birthday party, he'd seen a sash on one of the girls, couldn't say for sure which one though. And of course it was hosted, as all parties were these days, at the Harrington residence.

He remembers Wayne telling him that no-one had seen Harrington Senior or his wife since just after the Byers kid went missing, so Eddie supposed that made this massive mansion all Steve's.

And it'd been obvious since his massive blow up with Wheeler that he'd just stopped giving a fuck.

So Tommy and his band of merry fuckheads organised parties in Steve's house, and made a fortune out of it too, even though Steve wasn't really even friends with any of them anymore.

Not that Eddie cared. He didn't. The bigger the parties, the more parties they had, the more money he made. It was all the same to him.

Just sometimes, Steve would catch his eye across a classroom or like now across a party and Eddie thought that he looked kinda… lonely. Not that he was sure why Steve would choose to be that way, he might've fallen from grace but the guy was still gorgeous, he could have anyone he wanted; but he just seemed to wander ghostlike around the edges of life these days.

It seemed like forever since Eddie had last seen him smile, not sneer or grimace like he tended to now but a proper eye crinkling, dimple showing smile. Not for a lack of trying on Eddie's part of course, he'd taken to acting like a jester trying to get the fallen king to even so much as smirk, but his attempts haven't worked so far.

He thought he'd managed it earlier, during English when they were discussing male protagonists and he'd said Steve would make a pretty good Mr Darcy and winked exaggeratedly at him but his face had just gone through a multitude of expressions before he'd huffed in annoyance and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed, staring grumpily out of the window.

Eddie didn't know why he was so determined to fix him. They weren't friends, they were barely even acquaintances, but Wayne always said he had a tendency for strays and even though Steve's house was brimming with people, Eddie knew as well as Steve did that if he didn't have all this, he'd be well and truly alone, which thinking about it was probably why he was letting the dickhead jocks walk all over him.

Tonight was the third party Eddie's worked here in as many weeks and he's made a fortune but Tommy decided to start a fight with the birthday girl's boyfriend, which is one way to kill a party he supposes, so now everyone's starting to make their way home, groups of teens staggering their way down the middle of the road; which is just plain stupid really, they're all going to get caught, not that Eddie gives a fuck, keeping the cops busy on the main roads gives him chance to get away unnoticed.

He knows better than to draw attention to himself like that, he learned a long time ago to only work parties with a good escape route, so he heads straight to the sliding doors, that way he can slip out through the backyard and take his chances with whatever creatures live in the forest.

That's the plan anyway.

Until…

"Eddieeee!!" Steve yells, drunk as a skunk and half dangling out of the sunlounger he's supposed to be sitting in, reaching towards him and making grabby hands.

"Harrington," he greets wearily, he's been surreptitiously watching Steve all night, he knows he's had four too many and knows all too well how unpredictable drunk people can be, if it wasn't for the fact that he and Wayne need the money he wouldn't even be here.

Steve just sulks, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout, all big sad eyes, "Don't call me that," he mutters. Eddie doesn't say anything, just rocks on the balls on his feet and watches as Steve tries and fails to right himself, "Help?" he pleads like a toddler and Eddie can't help feeling endeared, he sighs, shaking his head to himself as he walks over to the sunlounger, picking Steve up under the arms, like the baby he's acting like and gets him settled properly.

"There you go," Eddie mutters, patting him gently on the head.

"Thanks," Steve mumbles, a surprised look on his face and a blush spreading across his cheeks, tapping the space in front of him in invitation for Eddie to sit and as much as part of him thinks it's a terrible idea, he knows if he leaves he'd be leaving him alone in this state and he just can't do that, so he sits.

"Hi," Eddie says, for a lack of anything else to say.

"Hi," Steve greets, a dopey smile on his face blinking owlishly at him, but then his face shifts like he's just remembered he's supposed to be annoyed with him, "Why'd you call me that earlier?" Steve asks petulantly.

Eddie frowns, he hasn't called Steve anything, at least not that he can remember, "Your name?" he clarifies.

Steve shakes his head excessively, "Mr Darcy!" he spits with a snarl, like it's a swear word, "You've been nice to me for weeks and then you went and said that!" he whines.

Suddenly the weariness is back in Eddie's stomach, tries to think why Steve might be insulted and comes up empty, "I don't know, does generous, kind and good looking not suit you?" he babbles before he can really think about how that sounds coming from another guy.

Steve's face does something complicated, he opens his mouth to say something, shuts it, his face changing expression, opens and closes his mouth again before settling on a confused but soft little "oh".

Now that he knows he's not about to get punched, Eddie relaxes a bit, and curiosity killed the cat or whatever because against his better judgement he asks, "What did you think I meant?"

Steve shrugs and looks forlornly at the ground, "What everyone else thinks. That I'm an elitist, condescending wanker. That you'd been being nice to me as a joke so it'd hurt all the more when you were mean. I got drunk because I was sad because I thought we were friends but you were just playing a prank on me," Steve tells him and there's such sincerity and pain in his eyes it hurts to even look at him.

But Eddie can't help it, he's beyond surprised so he can't stop his eyebrows hitting his hairline, "Friends?" The fallen king of Hawkins High wants to be his friend? Was hurt when he thought Eddie wasn't his friend? Cares at all what Eddie thinks about him? That's way beyond his comprehension.

Steve just smiles dopily at him, lifting Eddie's chin with a gentle finger to make Eddie look at him and it's like being gut punched because who'd've thought this sweet, vulnerable guy was hiding inside Steve Harrington this whole time?

"Yes, friends! Do you wanna be my friend, Eddie?" And all Eddie can do is nod because he's been thrown back into a memory long since forgotten, of two little boys playing together in the forest, games of pirates and cowboys and aliens and those same hazel eyes looking deep into his soul and asking that very same question.

Jesus H Christ!

A gust of wind blows through the yard making Steve shiver bodily but given his clumsy movements earlier, Eddie wonders how to get him inside without risking him falling in the pool, because everyone else has definitely already left and Eddie can swim but not well enough to rescue someone who's drunk and not fully in control of all their limbs.

But Steve for all his height and his muscles isn't actually all that heavy, not in comparison to band equipment, he could probably manage…

Eddie twists slightly away from Steve, "Right, hop on," he instructs, tapping his shoulder. Steve just gives him a puzzled look, Eddie smiles encouragingly, "I'm gonna give you a piggyback indoors. I don't want you to drown!"

Steve smiles then, really smiles, and if Eddie knew it was this easy he'd've done it weeks ago, and wraps his arms loosely around Eddie's neck and his legs tightly around his waist.

Eddie tries not to think too closely about it, he's known for a long time that he's queer, knows full well endearing, pretty jocks are his type, knows that tightening in his chest isn't because Steve is heavy but more because their cheeks are smushed together and they're sharing the same breath and Eddie can smell his aftershave and the beer he's been drinking and for some reason when it's coming from Steve it isn't making him want to hurl.

The house is an absolute shittip but whoever was last out at least had the decency to turn off the music and turn out all the lights, so Eddie just slides the door shut behind them and heads straight for the stairs. Steve grips a little tighter, leaning into Eddie making balancing easier but other than that he makes no effort to leave Eddie's grasp.

He's waddling up the stairs but only because Steve's long, long legs are in the way. A secret part of Eddie thinks about doing this regularly, having Steve this close, so pliable and snuggly. Eddie feels a little guilty about it but he can't help himself from filing the memory away for rainy days when he feels sad, it's just such a priceless moment, chances are this is never gonna happen again.

"Which one's yours?" he asks when they reach the landing and he's faced with several closed doors. Steve doesn't say anything, just sighs heavily and points Eddie in the right direction.

Eddie steps forward, twisting the doorknob, the door swinging open, and flicking the light on to reveal his room looks… exactly how Eddie expected it to and suddenly he can't keep the fond smile off his face, because of course Steve has plaid wallpaper and matching curtains, it's so cliche it's adorable.

He walks over to the bed, turns so he's facing the door and drops Steve unceremoniously onto the mattress making him giggle uncontrollably. Eddie turns back to watch him because how can he not? He made Steve giggle! It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, even when he breathes in too fast and he snorts, his eyes are all crinkled in the corners, showing off his dimples and his perfectly straight teeth, he really is just perfect.

Eddie tries not to let his affection bleed through onto his face but he must do a pretty poor job because when Steve opens his eyes to look at him, his breath hitches and he stops laughing. And Eddie kicks himself because the house is far too silent without Steve's quiet laughter. He needs to get out of Steve's bedroom but he can't leave without getting him some provisions for the morning. He glances around and spots the ensuite in the corner, nipping inside and grabbing a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol from the medicine cabinet, wandering back out to leave them on the bedside, dragging the wastepaper basket closer to the bed just in case.

Steve is now more settled in bed, head on his pillow, snuggled up under the covers, Eddie smiles, putting on his persona so he can make it out of here alive and hopefully with his heart still intact because if he gets any cuter Eddie isn't sure he'll be able handle it.

"Okay, my liege! Now thou art safely in thy bedchamber, I shall bid thee adieu," Eddie says with a bow, he feels okay about leaving him now he's got him all set up and safely in bed.

Steve grins at his dramatics but frowns when what Eddie said sinks in, "Wait!" he yells unnecessarily given Eddie hadn't really made any attempt to leave, even though that's what he said he was going to do.

Eddie's eyebrows raise all by themselves, reaching new heights when Steve pats the bed beside him, "Stay," he whispers and how is Eddie supposed to deny him? He can't even use Wayne as an excuse because the poor bloke's at work, all Eddie would be going home to would be a cold trailer and crap TV, how could that ever compare?

He tries to think of a reason because this is so far from a good idea but Steve wants to be friends and he so clearly needs a friend and Eddie can do that, he can be here for his friend.

"You sure?" he checks but when Steve nods vigorously in reply all his misgivings leave him, he sits on the edge of the bed as far from Steve as he can get, leaning back on his hands, looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

Except Steve doesn't say anything, he just gets a hold of his wrist and pulls knocking Eddie flat onto his back, his head landing in Steve's lap and it happens so quickly all Eddie can do is blink up at him. Steve smiles like he's won the jackpot and starts running his fingers through Eddie's hair like he's petting a cat and Eddie daren't even breathe let alone move but it feels so good his toes are curling in his Docs and when Steve starts to giggle again he realises it's because he's enjoying it so much he's making little noises in the back of his throat.

"Sorry," Eddie mutters but Steve just shakes his head fondly and continues his ministrations, just watching Eddie watching him but it's been a long day, between school and the party and Eddie can feel his eyes drooping no matter how hard he tries to fight it.

He isn't sure how long he lays there for but his legs have been dangling over the edge so long even his shins have pins and needles when Steve rouses him with a gentle tugging of his hand and a whispered "C'mon, get in!"

Eddie does as he's asked, absentmindedly kicking off his Docs and getting settled on top of the blankets, both of them laying on their sides facing one another.

"Night, Stevie," Eddie mumbles, already half asleep, only just feeling Steve place his hand into his own, interlinking their fingers and leaving a kiss on his knuckles with a whispered, "Goodnight, love."

(I hated this fucking ending so much because I did the typical thing of thinking of it without writing it down and not to give tmi but whilst in the shower I just remembered I wanted it to be "Goodnight, Teddy." and now I'm just mentally kicking the crap out of myself because I posted it with the wrong ending 😭😭😭 sorry @estrellami-1)

[camsthisky]

I love your writing so much, I’m so excited for this event! How about “Tell me who did this to you” from the protective/loyal prompt list, with Jason and hurt!Dick? Thank you!!

Dick has the absolute worst luck.

Sometimes he wonders if there’s just something about him that screams hit me with a dump truck full of baddies and throw me into the river to drown, because this is the third time he’s been tossed into the water this year.

The moment he’s airborne and heading towards the water, Dick is hitting the panic button in his glove and praying that he’s going to be able to survive this attempted drowning as well as he did the other two.

The tricky thing about this time, though, is that he’s been tied up, and while Nightwing has been in some sticky situations, Dick isn’t sure that he’s going to come out of this one whole and hale.

Because, come on. Chains? Really? The baddies this time had slapped manacles on him and wrapped him in chains and tossed him into the dirty river and Dick is pretty sure he’s going to die if he doesn’t find a way out of this. Quick.

At least if they tied him up with rope, he’d probably have a much better chance of surviving. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a handy dandy pair of bolt cutters in his utility belt. If it’s supposed to be there, then that was a lesson Dick had missed during vigilante lessons.

At some point, Dick blacks out, and as his vision goes dark, all he can think is, “I didn’t get to tell Damian that I love his new suit design.”

—

He wakes up choking on water. Dirty Gotham river water. Gross.

“Breathe, dammit!” someone yells at him, and miraculously, as he’s turned on his side, Dick manages to cough out the nasty water taking up the space in his lungs where the air is supposed to be. Someone thumps his back, and—

well. Eventually, he sucks in a huge heaving breath and coughs out some more. His throat is absolutely ripped to shreds and he’s still chained up.

But! He’s not underwater anymore. Which is a major plus. And Dick can mark a three-for-three on his score of surviving being thrown in the Gotham River. So take that, bad luck.

“What the hell, ‘Wing?!” that same someone—Jason, Dick realizes. No helmet, but anger and spite in spades—bites out. “Are these fucking manacles?!”

“Yeah,” Dick croaks. He’s exhausted, and Jason is leaning over him now, flipping up the lenses in Dick’s mask to check his pupils. “Not my century of style, I know. But I think I pull them off pretty well.”

“You’re a fashion disaster,” Jason mutters. “Who the heck even managed to catch you like this?”

“Oh, you know,” Dick says, very expertly avoiding answering the question directly. “I’m just a magnet for trouble. All the weirdos are out to kill me in the most ridiculous ways. Including manacled river drownings like we’re in medieval times. Gotta love Gotham.”

Jason flips Dick’s lenses back down, and gives him an unimpressed look. Even with Jason’s mask still on, Dick can see the sheer unimpressibility—is that even a word? Dick’s brain is not operating at full capacity—in Jason’s face based on his micro expressions.

“Tell me who did this to you, Dickhead,” Jason says, hauling Dick to his very uncoordinated feet and then swinging him up over his shoulders.

Someone needs to tell Jason to stop growing. Or not. Growing means Jason is alive, after all. Even if he is taller than Dick by a good few inches.

“We gotta tell Oracle that there’s some loser chaining people and throwing them in the river to drown. God, why couldn’t it be ropes? You could have cut the ropes and I wouldn’t have had to save your stupid ass.”

“My ass is not stupid,” Dick wheezes as he hangs from Jason’s shoulders. He’s pretty sure Jason’s dumb body armor is digging into his stomach. “My ass is amazing.”

Dick can practically hear the eyeroll.

“Give me their names, Nightwing.”

“You sound like B.”

“And you sound like someone who doesn’t know what’s coming to him,” Jason says. “The hell are you so reluctant for?”

“So,” Dick says, still kind of sounding like one of those stupid rubber chicken toys if it had gone through ten rounds with Titus and was on its last freaking leg. “I may or may not have figured out who chained me up and threw me in the river.”

Jason groans. “I am so angry at you right now.”

“Cool,” Dick says, and he’ll come back to Jason’s emotions later when he has the brain capacity to actually deal with them. “You got any bolt cutters?”

“Why me,” Jason complains.

“Why me?” Dick throws out, a little offended. “I’m the one who almost drowned.”

“I’m honestly having second thoughts about saving you.”

“No you’re not.”

Jason sighs, finally setting Dick—chains and all—on the ground. They’re a couple blocks away from the river now, and the streets are deserted.

“No,” Jason admits, exasperated. “I’m not. Why are you so annoying?”

“Older brother privileges,” Dick tells him, blinking rapidly to try and reduce the fuzzy feeling in his brain to maybe zero. That’d be great, yeah. Zero is a good number.

Another eye roll. Probably. Dick can feel it in the universe, even if he can’t actually see Jason doing it.

Dick must lose time at some point, because when he blinks next, he’s on the couch in Jason’s apartment, dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, and miraculously unchained.

His head is a bit floaty, but he’ll take all the wins he can get tonight.

“—dumbass who got himself manacled, for fuck’s sake,” Jason is saying as he walks back in the living room. They make eye contact and Jason scoffs into the phone. “He’s awake, so come get him before I throw him back into the river and let him drown for real.”

Jason hangs up and throws his phone onto the coffee table.

“That was mean,” Dick says. “Even if B’s an ass, it’s mean to say things like that.”

“He was pissing me off,” Jason mutters, but he plops down on the floor in front of the couch. “He’s gonna be here in twenty to pick your sorry ass up for a medical check. Pretty sure you have a concussion.”

“I didn’t hit my head?” Dick asks more than says.

Jason snorts. “Yeah, sure. That explains why there’s a knot the size of a walnut on the back of your head.”

Dick blinks. “Oh.”

“That’s the only reason I’m letting you off the hook about not knowing who those guys were,” Jason tells him.

“Sure,” Dick says, eyelids feeling heavy again. “Whatever you say, Jay.”

[anjelicawrites]

Cringefail Throuple 💡

Billy gets very lonely when he’s not working and both Michael and Reader are in classes, so one weekend they take their lil puppy boyfriend to adopt a for real lil puppy to keep him company 🐶

SFW but still 18+ only under the cut

Warnings: brief mention of Billy's fear of driving, brief mention of dog fights.

Billy doesn't drive. He still has his license but doesn't own a car anymore. You and Michael know the reason and understand. (Michael, being the dickhead that he is, still can't get his head around why Billy isn't trying to force himself to drive; he keeps his mouth shut and is supportive, nonetheless, after you've threatened to stop sleeping with him, if he even thought about muttering a single word about the whole situation). Anyway, Billy doesn't drive, neither you, nor Michael own a car and hiring a taxi isn't an option, this makes the whole setup of your trip difficult, not impossible, after all, you and Michael are both geniuses, right? That's why you three are sitting on the bus, the eye mask you two have made Billy wear, discreetly covered by your old wraparound glasses.

"I can't believe you own those."

Billy hears Michael's voice coming from his left. You three are sitting on the back row seats of the bus, Billy in the middle, you two flanking him.

"It's called 'following fashion trends sometimes'. You should try it." "Goths don't follow fashion trends" "Says who? You can talk when you stop wearing grandpa trousers."

To anyone eavesdropping, this is two people that are bantering, maybe even fighting, to Billy it's his two dork lovers flirting: he knows the sex tonight is going to be a fight between you two for the upper hand, for his viewing pleasure. Not his fault this is yours and Michael's way of flirting!

You three risk missing your stop and have to rush to the exit, Billy almost stumbling on his feet, blindfolded as he is, and having to rely on you two for guidance.

"Promise me this is not some weird sex thing?" He asks, worried, when he realizes he can't hear the sounds of the city around himself anymore. "Your arse is only for our viewing pleasure." Michael murmurs in his ear, before slapping said arse. "Not now Michael!" You chide your supposedly 'genius' boyfriend. "There's no one around here." "Where's 'here'?" Billy has to ask, before you two start bickering again. "Near where we're supposed to go." You answer. "We're heading that way, it's not far."

With that, Billy can feel your hand and Michael's in his, gently guiding him to his left. The terrain under his feet is uneven, pebbles and bumps under the soles of his shoes, he can hear the wind rustling the leaves of trees he can't see: where the hell are you taking him? And why there's dogs barking all of a sudden?

"We've arrived."

Billy feels Michael's fingers on the stems, before he removes the glasses and the eye mask with a quick movement. Billy's eyes need a moment to adjust to the sudden influx of light, before his sight lands on the sign in front of him.

"Are you for real?" Comes out more chocked than expected.

He's talked with his psychologist about feeling lonely when you and Michael are in class or are studying at the library. Work helps, the small group of friends he's made since moving to Oxford is great but there are those afternoons when he feels the bite of loneliness. He's told his psychologist that he knows he should be able to deal with feeling lonely, and that's when the suggestion of adopting a pet was made.

"It doesn't have to be a big commitment." His psychologist had said. "Whilst handling one's loneliness in a healthy way is paramount, one should follow what he's feeling. You used to have a dog, innit?"

He did, it was on the screen of his now exploded mobile phone and Billy misses having the dog around, the chat he had with him, even going on a walk with him under the snow is a treasured memory.

"If you want to."

Billy's eyes land on you. You're picking your fingers nervously as you wait for his answer.

"I do."

He surprises himself by saying it out loud, but he had toyed with the idea even since talking about it with his psychologist and never tried to act upon it. Now that he's in front of the dog shelter, he knows he should have come here sooner.

"Then let's go inside. It's a long way to Oxford." "You know Michael? You don't have to be such a pain in the arse all of the time!"

Before you two can start bickering again, Billy takes your hands and drags you two inside.

You and Michael had contacted the shelter before coming and had given all the information needed to the nice volunteer who is now accompany you three in the various areas.

Michael is busy keeping you and your squeals of happiness under control and you are busy sounding like a squeaky toy, to notice immediately that Billy has stopped in front of the door of a dog.

"What's his name?" Billy asks, already on his haunches to look at the dog better.

The animal staring at him has some mutt in him and a part of his ear is missing, on top of the scars visible. The rich chocolate of his eyes hides a world of sadness Billy sometimes can see in his own.

"He is Tornado." The volunteer walks back and sits next to Billy. "He is one of our older residents. He was part of a fighting ring and was in terrible conditions when he came to us. We had to work with him and now he's the sweetest guy you could ever ask for!" She adds, hastily. "I'm taking him home. He's the one." Billy says, eyes locked with the dog in front of him. "He's up for adoption, right?"

It takes a while to finish the paperwork and Billy is vibrating in his own skin, as much as Tornado is, when he sees the leash in Billy's hand. The dog doesn't jump on him, but is wagging his tail furiously, you all are afraid he's going to harm himself and is moving so much Billy has to try a couple of times, before he can manage to leash him properly.

You three don't wait for the bus, Tornado, as well behaved as he is, wants to walk and is busy sniffing you three and and every bush on the road.

"A puppy for our puppy boyfriend. Are you happy?" Michael asks. "I am."

The sun is slowly setting, you're busy taking pictures of Tornado like he's some kind of supermodel and Billy's heart feels like its going to bursts from joy: him and Tornado are going to be the best team in town! Little he knows the dog is going to become the pub resident mascot, getting all the love and pets from each patron, like the good boy that he is.

Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I asked my friend to stop joke-insulting me?

I (20X) am a part of a few friend groups, the newest one being a trio of me, Jamie (20M) and Tessa (21F) (not real names for privacy reasons).

I only met them about a year ago more or less through college but we got along fairly quickly. I'm usually more quiet and reserved with new people so for the first few months of me knowing them I was just this kind, polite and quiet kid who barely talked to them (maybe like once a week and even that was about classes since Jamie and I are the same major so we ended up with a lot of shared classes). I'd make sure to always be the ideal friend and be pleasant to make them happy.

But the thing is I am very different when I feel comfortable with people. And over time I got more and more comfortable and felt like I belong with my college friends (I even asked to change my schedule to take almost all of my classes with Jamie). So one day me and Jamie were going to my dorm when I realized my keys are not on my person and I have no idea where they were. Naturally, I panicked and me and him went looking through all of the places I've been to try to find the keys. After about half an hour of running around college he went to grab his phone from his jacket and lo and behold, my keys were there (apparently I asked him to keep them for me while I went to the bathroom). I was so relieved but I don't know what came over me so I just punched him and called him a whore and he looked really shocked for a second but then he just laughed and said I'm a dickhead. And since then it's been pretty much a joking insult war between the two of us, when once we used to call each other smart or cool now it's just saying mean stuff (while not meaning it obviously)

And as much as I have fun joking around with him sometimes I get sad about it because I worry he actually thinks those things (even though he clarified most of the things he says about me are not ment to be taken seriously) and he does still say nice things about me sometimes and we still have serious conversations and take each other seriously but I miss when it was just that because I have plenty of jokes with my non college friends and I was so happy to get new ones because I missed having people to actually talk about stuff with and not just say nonsense all the time.

So I thought about asking him to lay off the insults a little even though I'm the one who basically started it and I still do it a lot myself but every time I just end up feeling bad and wishing I'd just been serious for once. But I feel like an ass because again, I started it and it's unfair to let myself laugh at him and then get upset when he does the same to me. But again I don't really want to laugh at him it just comes out naturally because when I'm comfortable with someone it just happens.

Tessa keeps saying we fight non stop and I know she knows and we all know it's not serious but I just hate that idea even as a joke, fighting. I don't wanna fight I just want a comfortable space to be myself and have people like me and have fun with them.

So would I be the asshole if I told Jamie I don't really like the play fighting anymore even though it all started with me?

What are these acronyms?

[inkyquince]

DAY 17: Dating What Daddy Hates (Asshole Ensemble/ The Purge)

Bring the gang to dinner with daddy they said, it would be fun, they said. 

content warning. Dubcon, gangbang, the entire asshole ensemble is here (Briar, Remy, Wren, Harper and Bailey), cumplay, degradation/praise, general dickhead behaviour.

Honestly? You weren’t sure if the Purge did all that much for your town.Well, now they had more reasons to go murder and commit arson and “release the beast” along with all the usual raping. Actually… 

You yanked your laptop over to you, scrolling through the various statistics that were splashed over the homepage of your laptop, already trying to justify the annual tradition. Huh… Rape statistics were down on the Purge night. Everything else was up for your town. Not much urge to do what you can already get away with all year round, huh. 

With a sigh, you shut the laptop, your stomach already feeling far tighter than it should be. 

Why should you be worried? You would be safer this year than you’ve ever been in the orphanage. Adopted to some rich family who liked doing a good deed or something. Though there were rumours that any orphan shipped off would return on Purge night by the caretaker. Though… That never happened in your time. Hell, Bailey would pop open wine when an orphan was taken and then lock the entire orphanage down before heading out with others for the entire night. 

You could faintly hear the clatter of your new family moving down below, chatting away before dinner was served. You didn’t yet feel… Part of them. For good reason too, any orphan quickly snatched up a few weeks before the Purge sometimes went missing… 

The phone on your bedside bleeped.

Perks of having a rich family, you thought as you reached over and swiped it open. 

BrownEyes: u set for the night? 

You smiled to yourself and thought for a moment about your response. 

You: Yeah, tho could use several shots and a friendly game rn. 

BrownEyes: O? Want me to sneak in? 

You: God no. I think you’d be shot on sight. 

BrownEyes: What… Daddy wouldnt let you have a friend around for drinks, games and then a really nice long fuck? 

You rolled your eyes with a snort and sat up from lying on your stomach, listening out for any footsteps heading towards your room. 

You: stfu wren

BrownEyes: Nah ;D

BrownEyes: Anyway, come down from your high ass tower, sunshine. We missing ya. 

You: We?

Wren started and stopped texting over and over, the three bubbles appearing just to disappear as soon as they popped up. There was a good couple of seconds of him not replying, You exhaled through your nose as you heard footsteps leading up to your bedroom door, you adoptive mother peeking her head through the doorway. 

“Dinner’s ready. We are going to watch some movies afterwards, too, if you want to join.” 

You nodded and abandoned your phone, Wren still attempting to message you. You’ll just see what he said after dinner. As your door shut softly behind you, switching the lights off as you went, his message finally popped up on your screen, illuminating the room with the pale light. 

BrownEyes:  Yeah. We’ll catch up with you in a bit huh? Hope you missed me. 

Dinner was awkward. You weren’t feeling up to chatting, even as your parents and adopted siblings wanted to let you join in. You mainly missed.. Well, everything. Even doing your jobs in town, even the assholes, Robin, everything. Missed it too much to properly appreciate the easy life you were living now. 

“So, we’re planning on heading out of town for a bit next week.” Your new father cleared his throat and gave you a smile. 

“Have fun.” You mumbled, pushing the slightly overcooked vegetables around your plate before scooping them up. 

Your new mother gave a little laugh before patting you on the hand. 

“No, silly, you’ll be coming with us! A proper vacation away, wouldn’t that be nice?” 

You gave a small smile, relaxing into your chair and opened your mouth to reply when there was a knock on the door. Everyone fell quiet. Your father glanced at the clock and his grip of his cutlery tightened. 

“The purge only starts in 5 minutes. Probably someone asking for provisions or something.” He stood up, voice unsteady and made his way back to the foyer. 

Your mother waved you and the other two kids off as she began to gather the dishes up and you slowly made your way up to your bedroom, faintly hearing voices coming from the front door. You had just made it to the threshold of the room when there was a shout and a loud bang echoing throughout the house. You froze up before darting back out of the room just to have your mother yell up the stairs for you to stay in your room. 

You backed up into your room, fumbling with the light switch when a large hand covered yours and your mouth. Squirming wildly, you tried to elbow at your assailant but was only met with a low chuckle. 

“Cool it, sunshine, just me.” Wren breathed into your ear. 

You bit down on his hand and he quickly yanked it away with a small hiss before giving another soft laugh. 

“Wren you asshole!” You hissed, still trying to elbow him just without much of the fervour you were doing it with before. “What-” 

“I said I missed you.” He breathed, turning you around and nosing along your temple. “Fuck… I really missed you, sweetheart.” 

You froze up as his warm lips gently connected with yours, his gently sighing into the kiss putting you at ease. His calloused, large hands cupped your cheek as he slowly walked you back, almost shutting the door as you were pressed against it. 

“Fuck, baby.” Wren murmured, nipping at your bottom lip before pressing his hot tongue into your mouth. “You know how to make ‘em yearn, don’t ya?” 

Too lost in him, it wasn’t until there was another scream and the sound of a gun going off did you snap back to attention, pulling away even as he tried to press in closer, desperately trying to press his lips to yours again. 

“Wren, no-” He quickly captured your lips again before pulling you down to the floor, hungry fingers slipping underneath your shirt. “Wren!” 

His soft brown eyes met yours in the small slither of light creeping through the slightly ajar door. 

“M-My family, what-” 

“They aren’t your family.” The smuggler breathed, pressing closer against you as his fingers skimmed just below your nipples. “So don’t worry about it, sunshine.” 

“No, what’s happening? Whose-” 

“Shush, I needed a distraction to get in. Told you we were gonna catch up.” Wren murmured before pressing another kiss to your lips. “They’re fine, I promise. Just… Spooked. Nothing bad, I promise.” 

With a sharp grin, he leaned forward enough to press his gloved palm against the door, shutting it completely and leaving the room in darkness. 

Unable to see anything, you were completely at the blond’s mercy as his mouth found your throat and sucked marks into your skin, his thumbs rolling your soft nipples into hard peaks. You could only squirm and sigh softly under his ministrations, his own erection pressing against your stomach. Putting your trust in your long time fuck buddy, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer while praying that he was right, that your family was just spooked and wouldn’t have noticed him coming in. 

“God, I’ve missed you.” Wren murmured again, sighing against your wettened skin, saliva hot against your skin. “You never came to visit after you were taken in. Hurt my feelings real bad.” 

“They didn’t- fuck…” You exhaled slowly and tilted your head back for him to get better access. “They didn’t want me going out there anymore. Anyway, no reason to, I don’t need to pay rent anymore- Ow!” 

You tensed up again as Wren pinched you roughly as he bit down on your neck particularly hard. 

“No reason, huh?” He murmured, tone darker at your admission. “Then… I guess I gotta make sure you can feel the reason to come crawling back to me right between those thighs, huh? Make sure you can feel it every time you fucking sit down.” 

You shivered as Wren pulled away from you, sitting up just to yank at his belt, loosening it so his dark trousers slid to his knees and his erection slapping against his toned stomach, leaving a string of precum from his leaking cockhead. 

Spreading your legs himself, the smuggler got comfortable between them, shucking down your own garments, along with your underwear, to get at his long awaited prize. He slowly dragged the tip of his cock along your thighs, slowly feeling his way up the crest of your thighs. He exhaled shakily as he nudged your hole before beginning to push in. 

“Fuck. Missed your slutty hole so much.” Wren exhaled as he rested his weight on you, slowly bottoming out inside of you. “Welcoming me back so warm and sweetly.” 

You just tucked your face into his collarbone, whining as his hip bones pressed against yours, his balls throbbing against your skin. You struggle to keep quiet as his pace begins to pick up, sighing with his hot breath hitting your forehead. He continued to press kisses to your skin as you whimpered, somehow needing to readjust to his length despite the amount of time you had spent on his cock in the past months. Wren sighs softly, a few groans interrupting his gentle noises, pushing deeper and deeper inside of you, as if trying to mark you deep from the inside. 

It felt so right, having him with you again, just like this. Rocking slowly on his cock, letting pleasure ebb and flow through you, forehead to forehead. Wren always managed to make you feel safe, even as you distantly heard some crashes, but you couldn’t slip back out of your haze enough to worry about it. Not until you felt something bang at your door repeatedly. 

You quickly covered Wren’s mouth, worried that it was your parents. 

“W-Who is it?” You gasped out, hoping that they were only coming to check on you, instead of wanting to come in and see a man obviously much older than you  bullying your poor hole. 

“Open the door, brat.” Your heart jumped into your throat, panic closing in. 

No… Not… Not him. Anyone but him. 

Wren shook your hand off and dragged you against his chest, groaning louder now. 

“One moment, jesus!” The smuggler made you hook your legs around his hips before leaning back, pulling you away from the door. “Alright, all good to come in.” 

He entered, almost obstructed completely from the hallway’s bright light, but you’d know that figure anywhere, especially in your nightmares. Bailey leaned against the doorframe, eyes shifting to your hole, Wren upping the pace so that his cock felt more like it was brutally hammering into you than the slow lovemaking of before. 

“Been a while.” Bailey’s lips quirked up into his usual sneer, eyes flicking towards your face for only a moment before drifting back down. “Good to see you doing what you do best.” 

You struggled to gasp out a curse at him, the smuggler’s lips immediately pressing against yours with hunger. There was faint movement behind you, and with fear sinking into your skin, everything else came into sharper perspective.The panicked shouts. The sounds of furniture being upturned. The laughter… The smell of coppery blood, getting headier as footsteps approached where you and Wren were tightly pressed against each other. 

A hand wound into the back of your shirt, yanking you away from Wren’s lips, despite his soft whine. You were pushed back against the carpeted floor, Bailey kneeling by your head. You froze up, seeing his slender hands caked with blood leaving marks against your clothes and then your face as he roughly cupped your cheek, smearing more against your skin. 

“W… Whose-” 

“Shut up.” Bailey sighed, his tainted fingers gripping his zipper and pulling it down. “Just open your cum hole.” 

Using his bloodied fingers, he pried open your mouth, nails scratching against your teeth before shoving just the head of his cock into your mouth, the taste of blood and precum smearing over your tongue. You tried to clamp down on the sensitive flesh only to be roughly smacked, Bailey’s rings stinging against your skin. 

“We come to get you and this is how you repay us?” He sneered before wrenching your jaw open further, sinking down into your throat, his balls pressing against your cheek. “Thank me properly, whore, and I’ll let you walk out instead of dragging you out on your goddamn knees.” 

You could just whimper as his cock throbbed on your tongue. You could feel Wren’s chest rumble with a chuckle as you sputtered and whimpered around your caretaker’s meaty cock, struggling to breath as the precum slowly dripped down your throat. You could do nothing but drink it down and try not to panic. 

“Sorry, sunshine. This was the deal.” Wren whispered quietly, mouthing at your throat, tongue flicking every time your throat bobs with Bailey’s ruthless cock. “Just enjoy some proper loving.” 

A mocking laugh echoed up the stairs and Wren throbbed inside of you, his breath hitching in his throat. You heard two pairs of footsteps stomping up the stairs, two voices snide as they made their way closer. Your body shivered and Bailey smacked your cheek again, just more lightly as to not have you bite down on his cock. Your nose buried in his trimmed happy trail, you struggled not to panic as you struggled to breath, his cock moving back and forth in your throat slowly. 

You heard a low curse form Wren as he gripped your thighs harder, just as the door was kicked all the way open and there stood Harper and Remy, blood spattered on their clothes. You could only stare before Bailey yanked his cock out of your mouth and you could violently inhale, tears springing to your ears as oxygen finally got to your lungs. Your heartbeat was deafening in your ear drums, dizzy, but so was the sound of slick against skin, being rubbed almost violently. Eyes finally blinking free of the haze, you focused on Bailey’s cock, his gloved hand jerking himself off. Precum dribbled over the bridge of your nose and cheeks, cockhead flushed darkly. With a sharp gasp, Wren finally came inside of you, swearing softly before pulling out as he was still cumming, painting both your thighs and the carpet in cum. 

“Just in time, huh?” Harper said in a sing-song voice, leering down at you as Remy pushed past him. 

Wren stood, cock still dribbling globs of cum. He paused while getting up, to drag two of his fingers through your combined mess and happily traced his tongue over the creases of his gloves. Finally at his full height, he winked at Remy, who wrinkled his nose at the smuggler. With a twinkle in his eye, he leaned in and dragged the tainted fingers over Remy’s curling lip before looking back down at you. 

“Gonna snoop, sunshine. Be back in a bit.” He grinned, dropping his hand to drag along Remy’s stomach before heading out the door, momentarily obscuring the light before disappearing. 

Remy took his place between your thighs, deftly undoing his trousers and taking his cock in hand, pumping it enough to get him to full hardness.His tongue slowly swiped over his bottom lip, eyes dark as they drilled into your face, hungry and mean. Before you could say or do anything, Bailey gripped your chin and yanked your head back again, pressing his cockhead against your lips but not shoving it inside again. 

“Going to give me a kiss hello, like your boyfriend, or what?” His tone was flat, but creeping with excitement, delighting in the situation you found yourself in, in your new home, with your expired new family downstairs. 

You shakily kissed his leaking cock and you could feel Bailey shiver slightly, dragging the sensitive tip over your lips repeatedly. You alternated between kissing and licking it, as Remy used his thumbs to press into your hole, admiring Wren’s cummy mess dribbling out of you. Harper meanwhile just stood by, delighting in the show, his own hand slowly cupping his erection. The farmer smacked his cockhead against the mess between your thighs, vaguely lubing up his cock before starting to press into you. You shivered, his cock longer than Wren’s, pressing into you further than ever before and Bailey swore sharply as he came, cum droplets running over your lips and chin. 

“Fucking hell.” Bailey breathed and Remy absent mindedly nodded to himself, as if he agreed. 

Your caretaker sat back on his haunches, letting his cum dribble onto the carpet. Harper seemed twitchy, excited, eyes flicking between the white fluid on your face as you slowly tasted it with the tip of your tongue, and Bailey’s weeping cockhead, still dribbling out semen. 

Remy finally bottomed out just as another voice called for Bailey to come back down and help him with something, and your caretaker got to his feet fully, tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. You shivered as he stepped over you without another glance, heading back downstairs and Harper finally opened up his trousers, fishing his cock out. The farmer didn’t take any notice, too busy pinning your thighs to your chest, to push into you deeper, swearing softly. 

“This is all it takes then, hm?” His teeth flashed in the small amount of light in the room, greedy hands squeezing your flesh. “You’re as docile as can be when surrounded by men taking their turns. Good to know.” 

You could only weakly kick at him in objection but he caught hold of your ankle, squeezing it hard enough for you to stop but not enough to actually hurt the vulnerable bones. 

“What did I teach you? Not kicking.” Remy hissed darkly and Harper gave an entertained chuckle, still just slowly jerking himself off as he watched, happy with the show he was getting. 

“Easy there.” The doctor said, mostly to himself as a joke. 

As Remy thrusted into you, pace kicking up into a rougher rhythm, Harper rested on his side, face hovering by yours, grinning as he began to pepper your lips with kisses. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation properly, his hand reaching down to squeeze his throbbing balls before returning to its previous position, thumb squeezing out precum from his slit. You could feel his cockhead nudge against your bare stomach as he continued to nibble on your bottom lip before switching to hot, open mouth kisses. Harper’s movements were slightly awkward, unpractised, as you slowly parted your lips and felt him give a short, excited exhale. The tip of his tongue wasted no time in exploring, dragging over your teeth. Remy’s fingernails dug into the skin harder, eyes fixed on the two pink muscles slowly pressing against each other, lazily kissing. His cock throbbed alarmingly and the farmer slowed down, gritting his teeth.The two men distracted you enough for you to be deaf to the last pair of footprints making their way up the stairs before pausing in your doorway. 

“Hm. I should start offering group rates if none of you could wait for barely a few minutes.” That voice, so smooth and husky, like the whiskey Whitney would tip down your throat, was… Gloating. 

Of course you would recognise it anywhere, even as you tried to tip your head back to look at him only to be stopped by Harper’s fingers cupping the back of your head, refusing to stop tasting you. You hummed softly and Briar chuckled darkly. 

“Didn’t think they would all leap at the chance to take you home, with being able to fuck you as the payment Wren offered. Neither did I think my boys would be so into each other’s sloppy seconds, but what do you know?” 

“Sunshine let me hit it first, I’ll have you know!” Wren called from down the hallway, as the sound of a struggle got louder, something fragile smashing. 

There was a chorus of “Shut Ups”, some louder and others, some more breathy and moaning than annoyed. Briar just snickered and made his way to your bed, sitting down and lighting up a cigarette. He began to idly pick through your things, in your drawers, and on your laptop, mirthful eyes dragging back to you and the two men crowded over you every now and then. 

Despite Remy fucking in your far longer, it was Harper who was strugglnig to keep up, lightheaded on your taste alone. His own grip on his cock got slippery and loose, trying his damndest to maintain a tight hold. His breathing kicked up a notch, breath hot and clammy against your skin, saliva dripping down between your lips and tongues. His rapid exhales turned more into weak moans, before stiffening up completely as you gently sucked on his tongue. Spurts of cum shot over your bare stomach, Harper’s exhales half moans and half whines. 

“Fuck.” The doctor whispered, lips still moving against yours as he whispered. 

“Really a two pump chump, huh?” Wren’s voice, now closer, startled you and Harper sounded a noise of irritation, of his warm come down being interrupted. “No judgement, Harpcicle, I blame sunshine for your lack of… Stamina.” 

“Shut up.” Harper said flatly, your hazy brain registering a small amount of surprise at the doctor’s dropped facade. “I remember when you first got laid.” 

Remy snorted and Briar gave a huff of laughter, even as the two men kept their attention on you rather than the bickering between the two blondes. Remy’s cock nudged something deep and sensitive inside you and you arched your back, whining. Harper rolled onto his back and zipped his trousers back up, but didn’t make any move to get up, even as Wren continued to tease before growing bored and shooting you a wink before leaving again. 

Still in a daze, you could just wind your arms around Remy’s neck, enjoying his sharp cologne, the scratch of his barely there stubble against your cheek. Even the way that you could properly enjoy his low, slightly unsteady breathing in your ear, his soft hitches of breath letting you know just how badly he was affected. 

“Shit…” He murmured, his rhythmic rocking into you only becoming unsteady as you squeezed your knees tighter against his sides, fingers slowly tangling in his short hair. “Fuck. Ease up, or I’ll blow quicker than Harper.” 

You could just hiccup out a soft giggle and you felt Briar’s steely eyes flick to your face at the sound. His smile remained inscrutable, his smoky exhale almost billowing up to completely cover his face, like a dragon coveting its golden horde. Remy’s chest rumbles with his own quiet chuckle before his pace quickened, balls throbbing against your ass. You both gasped in tandem as  he reached his end, with you also shaking around him, having been edged since Wren had his turn. 

“Fuck.” You whispered, burying your face properly in his shoulder as Remy’s cum dripped from your hole, his grip on your legs almost bruising at this point. 

The farmer still took a moment before pulling away from you, untangling himself and slipping his cock free from your hole. Harper’s eyes flicked to his weeping cockhead, a small rosy blush on his cheeks. Remy leaned his head back, small drops of sweat beading at his temple and exhaled slowly. Briar gave a husky chuckle and leaned forward, your bed creaking with his shifting weight, and plucked his lit cigarette from his own lips, just to tuck it on Remy’s bottom lip. The farmer briefly cupped the brothel owner’s hand to tuck it between two of his fingers, but Briar didn’t slip his hand away, resting it against Remy’s cheek as he inhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut as the nicotine hit. The other man watched him as he took a few more puffs before leaning away, running his slender fingers through his long chestnut hair, just to push it back. 

“Move up, Remy.” Briar nudged his foot against the farmer’s leg. 

Properly adjusting the cigarette on his bottom lip, Remy stood. He gave you a lingering, low glance, smoke curling over his face, before stepping over Harper and faintly beginning a conversation with Wren, if the blond’s smug laugh was any indication. Briar instead knelt down where the farmer had been, ignoring Harper’s fingers slowly tracing over your stomach, dragging through the slowly cooling cum. Briar smacked his hand away as he gripped your waist, just to turn you on your front. His thumb ran along your hole, gathering the combined cum just to tuck the finger into his mouth, sucking slowly. He tilted his head, as if deciding on the taste before spitting it cleanly out, onto the carpet. 

With your own cheek resting against the floor, and Harper just slowly dragging his long fingers over your skin, left over cum on his fingertips making new patterns on your back, you fully relaxed into the new position. Obviously Briar noticed, if the satisfied hum was anything to go by. 

“Quite fucked open already.” He murmured, using just one thumb to press into you, making more cum rush out, down your thighs. “So I just get to enjoy you, without worrying if I will rip that pretty little hole.” 

You just mumbled something and you felt Harper press closer to you, giving the shell of your ear a light kiss. Not even hearing the rustle of his clothes, Briar’s cockhead nudged your opening with a soft squish.

“Hurry up.” Bailey appeared at the door again, resting his forearm against the frame. “Others are growing bored.” 

“So you could take your time, fuck at your leisure?” Briar gave an amused sigh, slowly sinking into you, filling you up again. “But you have to rush everyone else? Almost sounds like you wanted more time with your little orphan, hm?” 

“Shut up.” Bailey muttered before using his weight to push himself off the wooden frame again. 

He didn’t leave, instead his cold eyes rested on your face, your blissed out expression. Even as Harper began to idly play with your nipples, even as Briar bottomed out with a low chuckle, he refused to stop looking at you. Even as your eyes shut in bliss and the brothel owner draped himself over your back, murmuring obscenities, his gaze remained fixed, analytical and aroused. 

“Never understood why you had so many repeat customers.” Briar sighed out. “Knew you had talent but… Yeah, this hole is something else. Basically a fucked open gloryhole but still damn addictive.” 

You could just whine softly as he rutted into you. His cock had a delicious curve to it, putting pressure on a spot that almost had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Briar refused to let up on you, even as you reached another orgasm, shivering around his cock. Harper continued his nibbling, leaving love bites all over your neck and shoulders, even nipping at your earlobe just to make you squeak. 

Bailey also remained, watching you fall apart. 

Downstairs, Wren and Remy picked over the family’s possessions, the blood staining the nice wooden floor boards. The blond in fact, kneeled down to twist the rings off both the husband and wife and the farmer rolled his eyes, just about finishing his cigarette before stubbing it out in a decorative ashtray. 

“Who's that for, hm?“ 

 “Hey, could be for you.” Wren grinned at him before they both quietened down, listening to your soft moans growing louder and louder. 

“Could be for them.” Remy snorted, idly leaning back against a bloodied counter. 

“Yeah, but only after I sell them, y’know.” Wren straightened up, rolling the rings in his palm before tucking them into his pocket. He slung his arm over Remy’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Then I’ll buy a nice collar for them. Or a sex swing. Or a new cottage. Y’know, all for easy access.” 

The farmer was cut off in his reply as there was a final moan and footsteps began to come back down the stairs. Both Bailey and Briar appeared at the foot of the stairs, Harper’s cheerful voice echoing from your room, no doubt dressing you back up. 

“Happy Purge.” Wren just grinned at his compatriots, smug as they echoed his own words back to him. “Let’s go see if any places on Danube street look especially full of expensive shit.” 

EVENT MAIN POST