#to the anon who sent me another prompt i will do it -- eventually

[hellodarling1357]

#26 for the Cassian thing where reader is an IC member too and maybe them and Cassian have been seeing each other in secret for a while but Cass doesn't wanna tell anyone yet because he doesn't wanna mess up the dynamic or make things awkward for the rest of them but then all the stuff happens and Nesta comes along and reader's just sad and pissed because they're worried Cass is in love with Nesta now and secret plot twist oh no reader knows them and Cass are mates but it hasn't snapped for him yet so reader is losing it inside but obviously they can't tell any of their closest friends because Cassian still wants it to be a secret

even if you don't want to write this I hope you're having a great day/night ✩

Forever Tied - Cassian x Reader

Hello hello 🥰

The original prompt list I reblogged has disappeared for some reason so now I have no idea what #26 actually was but I did my best with the request you sent me so hopefully this still works, sorry Anon! I've made it extra long to make up for it!

Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 9.3k

Rhys was trapped Under the Mountain and there was nothing you could do to help. You had crumbled upon hearing his voice in your mind that last time, having no idea what this meant for your friend, your court, or even for Prythian. You hadn’t even realised you had fallen to your knees until a familiar, warm body had knelt next to you and pulled you into their shaking arms.

Cassian had been in the city centre of Velaris when he had heard, all plans for the day disappearing as the realisation of what had happened hit him full blast. Without thinking, he flew back to the House of Wind, unable and unwilling to process this alone. Although, subconsciously, there was really only one person he wanted to be with in that moment. Azriel would have distanced himself upon hearing the news, Amren was at her apartment, and Mor was at the town house, leaving only you in the House of Wind.

He stumbled in his rush as he landed on the balcony and raced inside. His heart broke even further at the sounds of muffled sobs that echoed towards him. In a blind haze he followed the sounds and found you on the ground, as though your legs had completely given out, unable to bare the weight of what had occurred. Without thinking, Cassian was beside you, pulling you into his arms as he rubbed soothing circles across your back, despite the way his own hands shook as tears threatened to burn at his eyes.

Your breathing eventually evened out, the only trace of your tears were the tracks along your cheeks and the redness of your eyes. Turning in his arms, you looked up at Cassian as though only just properly noticing that he was the comforting, warm presence that brought you back from your distressed state.

“We have to do something,” Your voice was a croaked whisper, “I know he said he put up a shield, but there has to be something we can do to help.”

The shaky inhale of Cassian’s breath told you enough. He didn’t think there was anything that could be done. Truthfully, you didn’t either.

You looked at your friend in awe as a singular tear streaked down his face, followed by another, and another. In all the centuries you had been friends, the sight of the male in front of you crying was one you had very rarely witnessed.

“Cass,” You lifted a hand to his face, gently brushing away his tears. Cassian was always the one who held everyone and everything together, and if this was the one time he openly showed he needed someone else to keep from falling apart, you would more than willingly be that person for him. “It’s going to be okay, alright? We’ll figure something out. And Rhys… well, it’s Rhys. He’s going to be just fine.”

The watery smile you gave him didn’t quite meet your eyes, the expression quickly replaced with alarm as Cassian’s breathing quickened, eyes screwed shut as though trying to compose himself. This you had never seen. Cassian completely losing control, his body shaking against yours as sobs escaped his throat.

“He’s gone,” The strangled sound that came from him had your heart splitting in two. “Amarantha, she will…she’s already…” He couldn’t seem to find the words, or couldn’t bear the thought of saying what was running through his head with Amarantha being involved.

“We’ll get him back.” You soothed, hands reaching up as you guided his head into the crook of your neck, fingers running through his dark wave of hair.

But he wasn’t calming, if anything, Cassian found himself spiralling further and further out of control, the emotions and the ‘what ifs’ sending him into a state of panic where even your comforting presence could do nothing to sooth his hyperventilating breaths, the tears, and the shaking that racked through him.

“Cass?” You pulled back, trying to force him to look at you. “Cassian? Hey, I need you to open your eyes, just focus on me, okay? There you go. Now just take in one deep breathe, alright? Just one, that’s all I need you to do. Okay, and again. You’re alright. We’re alright.”

Cassian’s hazel eyes stared into yours as you talked him through his breathing, your hands soothingly moving up and down his arms as you knelt in front of him and offered a comforting smile as you watched his panic slowly ebb away.

“Y/N, I­—" Cassian started, eyes wide as he gulped and continued staring at you. Before you could blink or react in anyway, he was surging forward; one hand coming up to rest at the back of your neck, the other was gently placed on your thigh, and then his lips were hurriedly pressed against yours. You stilled and tensed in his grasp, it was all too much after everything else that had happened, but still… Maybe a distraction is what you both needed. So instead of pulling away, you leant into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him even closer, and kissing him back with such an urgency that a moan sounded in the back of his throat.

“Y/N,” he muttered against your lips, forehead resting against your own, his breath brushing across your face as it came out in heavy pants.

You just shushed him, also refusing to move too far away. “I know, it’s fine. Just a distraction.”

He looked at you for one more blink and then hungrily pressed against you, this time lowering you to the floor, his muscled body hovering over yours as you lost yourselves in the moment, desperate to forget what had happened and all that was yet to transpire.

*****

Afterwards, you lay on the floor next to one another in the, now dark, room. The combination of your heavy breathes were the only sounds that broke through the silence.

Cassian let out a sigh followed by a chuckle, “Well that was one hell of a distraction.”

You turned your head to look at him and let out a quiet, breathless laugh. Yes, it had been a momentary distraction but now what had happened to Rhys, to Prythian, hung heavy in the room. Cassian turned on his side, leaning up on one arm as he faced you, taking in your still flushed, blissed out expression that now had something akin to pain creeping across it.

“Hey,” He gently grabbed your hand and soothed his thumb across the back of it. “Like you said, we’re alright. And we will get him back.”

You nodded at him then pulled yourself up, tugging your shirt back on before throwing Cassian his discarded clothes.

“Come on, we should find the others. Try to figure something out.”

*****

And that was that.

There was no mention of what had happened between the two of you. No comment on the fact that it had been, without a doubt, and despite the current situation you found yourselves in, the best sex either of you had ever had.

No, even when it happened again three weeks later, and then one week after that, and four days after that, again, and again, and again, it remained an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That momentary distraction where you could lose yourselves in the pleasure of one another and forget about the mess you were left to deal with.

That was how it worked for the next few years. You and Cassian falling into a routine of comfort that you were unable, unwilling, to get from anyone else. You had no idea if the rest of the Inner Circle were aware of what was going on; in terms of your friendship, nothing had changed, there were just additional benefits that came with it now. It didn’t mean anything more.

That is, of course, until your routine had morphed into something that felt like it was on the precipice of something else.

The sex was just as mind-blowingly passionate, however, there were now some instances where it was a bit slower and less frantic, more whispered words and lingering touches. Where the two of you used to chat afterwards, an arm’s worth of distance between you as you slipped back into your normal friendship until the other one left to return to their own room, you now found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s arms, hands softly caressing skin until you both drifted into a restful sleep.

Which is where you now found yourself; wrapped up in Cassian’s arms as he softly snored against you, hand tightly holding onto yours and legs tangled together. You eased out of his grasp, careful not to disturb him and lent against the headboard with a sigh. Usually, you would wake the next morning, offer a small smile, then get on with your day, Rhys’ absence still a clear focus for you all. However, lately you had found yourself letting your mind drift more and more, especially in moments like these where Cassian was still beside you and the bubble you lost yourselves in was yet to be broken.

Each and every time you hated yourself for it, guilt taking over until you forcefully pushed the thoughts away, but you couldn’t help but think that, at some point, you all needed to continue your lives and break away from the standstill existence you had been in since Amarantha took over.

You would never say it out loud, but as the years went on, you had lost all hope of ever getting Rhys back. And if that were the case, and as much as you wished it weren’t, at some point you had to start living for yourselves again. Deep down, in the dark and quiet moments when you awoke and the house was fast asleep, you knew exactly what you wanted that life to look like.

You let out another sigh and looked at Cassian, softly brushing some stray hair away from his face and taking the time to really study his sleep-softened features. You hadn’t meant for it to get this far, but after centuries of friendship, and now the years of intimacy you had shared, the love you felt for Cassian had grown and taken form into a whole different avenue of affection. You were in love with him. You loved him and your heart ached at the thought of it because if you allowed yourself this one bit of happiness into your life, the solidarity and support that Cassian provided, then you couldn’t help but think of it as forgetting about Rhys and the torture he had been enduring whilst you were slowly and deeply falling head over heels with one of your best friends.

The worst part of it was that you were certain Cassian felt the same way about you. The way he held you and touched you, the words he whispered into your ear as you were both tangled, panting messes and then the dazed murmurings that were uttered into the silence afterwards, the longing glances he would give you when the others weren’t looking…

What had started as a desperate distraction and pure, physical need had grown into something so much more meaningful and intimate. And yet you both refused to acknowledge that it was anything other than sex as a means to cope with the instability in your lives.

“Hey,” You hadn’t realised Cassian had stirred, his gruff, sleep-filled voice tearing you away from your thoughts.

“Y/N?” Your expression pulled in confusion at the sudden worry in his voice as he sat up and grasped your hand. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

It wasn’t until his fingers were reaching up to brush away the tears on your cheeks that you realised you had been silently crying.

“I… I don’t know.” You said with a slight sniffle.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Cassian pulled you into his lap, your head resting on his chest as he pressed kisses to the top of your head and rubbed soothing patterns across your back. The unfairness of the situation had you stifling a small sob, Cassian’s embrace reminding you of exactly what you were missing.

“Want to talk about it?” He murmured into your hair, followed by another kiss.

Whether it was the build-up of emotions or your complete and utter exhaustion, you didn’t know and didn’t care. You sat up in Cassian’s arms, desperately looking for any form of confirmation that what you were about to say wouldn’t ruin everything, then took a deep breath.

“This…whatever this is between us, I can’t keep doing it. Not how it is now,” You were too caught up to notice the heartbroken expression that flashed across his face.

Cassian had willingly fallen into this arrangement and would happily continue to do so if it meant he could pretend, even for just a few hours a day, that you were his, and he was yours. There had always been a part of him that had been completely and utterly in love with you. And then when he found out Rhys had been trapped by Amarantha, his emotions had been a surging mess, so he acted on instinct and a selfish need for the upmost form of comfort and risked it all by kissing you. Now the thought that this one bit of joy he allowed himself was being ripped away, another thing he would be losing, sent his heart racing as he waited for the final blow of your words.

“It hurts too much.” You continued, looking down at your intertwined hands before pulling away.

Cassian looked up at you in confusion, “What hurts too much?”

“This. Us,” A shaky laugh escaped you as you gestured to the empty space between you, throwing all caution to the wind as you said, “I can’t keep pretending that this isn’t anything more than a distraction. Not when I have fallen so deeply in love with you that the thought of never…”

You were cut off by Cassian all but picking you up and kissing you with such passion that you couldn’t stop your toes from curling or the small whimper that escaped your throat.

“You love me?” His voice was breathless and gravelly, barely above a whisper. You opened your eyes, his forehead rested against yours, eyes squeezed shut as though trying to hold onto the moment.

“Yes.”

A joyful laugh sounded from him and reverberated through you as his lips found yours again, tongue trailing along your bottom lip before you parted them for him.

Your mind was racing yet you couldn’t form a coherent thought, pulling away in a desperate attempt to catch your breath.

“Good.”

“Cass?”

“Good. Because I have loved you since we first met and I can’t lose you, not now.”

You grinned at him before pulling his face down to meet yours and slamming your lips to his. You had thought that maybe, just maybe, he had been starting to feel something that was more than friendship too. But the idea of him loving you for that long made your heart skip a beat and had butterflies fluttering up a storm in your stomach.

“I feel horrible,” You admitted, quick to clarify at the affronted look Cassian gave you. “It just feels wrong, like we’re betraying Rhys. We don’t…we don’t even know if he is alive, Cass. I want this, with you, more than anything. But it doesn’t feel right while everything is so…” You trailed off, unable to meet his gaze as Cassian watched you with a look of contemplation.

“So we don’t say anything. We can keep it between us, at least for now. We’ve gotten this far without the others asking questions. I love you, so much, and as much as I want everyone to know, I get what you mean. So we don’t say anything until we get him back. And we will get him back, I know we will. Alright?" You nodded; eyes wide as you grasped his calloused hands in yours.

“Besides, I basically sleep here every night anyway. Nothing will really change between us, just that I can now tell you and show you that I love you, instead of having to force the words down every time you so much as look at me.” A blush spread across your cheeks at his words and the wink that followed, but you didn’t care to hide it, instead simply giving him a dazzling smile that sent his heart racing.

He pulled you in for another kiss, murmuring “I love you” as he guided you back down onto the mattress.

“I love you too—" But a loud yawn escaped your mouth, cutting off the rest of your words and sending you into a small fit of giggles.

“Alright, we’ll continue this tomorrow,” Cassian now laughed with you. “Come on, it’s late. Get some sleep.”

You wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his chest, the comforting and familiar scent had you drifting off in a matter of minutes.

*****

Cassian had been right, not a lot in your dynamic had changed over the years after that night, other than the giddying comfort of knowing that he was yours, and you were his. You weren’t foolish enough to think that the others hadn’t picked up on the slight shift, especially when Cassian had waltzed out of your room one morning only to come face to face with Azriel. You just assumed that they thought you were sleeping together, nothing more.

Then when Rhys returned, you had been, obviously, overjoyed. Not wanting to bombard him with too much on his first night back, you and Cassian had decided later that night once you were back in your room, to hold off on saying anything about your relationship until Rhys had settled back in.

Then everything else had happened.

The arrival of Feyre and her sisters. Hybern and the cauldron. The war and near fatal injuries spread throughout your tight-knit group. It was all too much.

You and Cassian had been discussing back and forth for months: do you tell them or keep hiding it. Ultimately, keeping your relationship secret is what you always landed on. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were just finding excuses at this point to keep yourselves in your happy little bubble when so much threated to burst it.

Initially, you hadn’t wanted to rub your relationship in Rhys’ face when he was so clearly pining after Feyre who wanted nothing to do with him. Then their mating bond clicked, and you didn’t want to take away or overshadow their happiness with your own. The threat from Hybern felt like you would be playing with fire; if the King of Hybern found out… it was too great a risk when your enemies could use it against you.

Between it all, you still found time to be together; not once did the love you felt for one another falter. But with each excuse, and with each passing month, the decision wore on you more and more.

And then Rhys asked Cassian to take on Nesta.

You felt for her, you really did, but the time and energy Cassian put into helping her had a pit forming in your stomach. At the end of each day, when you were tucked tightly into his chest and his sweet nothings were whispered across your bare skin, you felt silly for ever thinking that he was losing interest in you. Yet, that feeling lingered just that little bit longer with each passing day and with each moment spent away from him when he was, instead, occupied with her.

*****

You had been away in the Summer Court the night that Nesta had hallucinated about being back in the cauldron. After you finished reporting to Rhys upon your return the following night, he had told you what had happened with her silver flames and how Cassian had managed to bring her out of it. With worry for all of them, you got back to the House of Wind as soon as you could but couldn’t find Cassian, Azriel, or Nesta anywhere. It wasn’t until later when you were getting ready for bed that there was a knock on your bedroom door. What you didn’t expect was to find Cassian on the other side of it, you weren’t sure why he suddenly decided to start knocking on the door to the room you had shared for the past 50 years.

With a quizzical look you pulled him inside the room and lent up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips that had him instantly wrapping his arms around your frame to pull you in tighter against him.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your skin, trailing lingering kisses down your neck that had a soft moan escaping you.

“I missed you. Rhys told me what happened here, are you alright? Is Nesta?”

Cassian pulled back, pressing another kiss to your lips then the tip of your nose before grabbing your hands and leading you to the couch by the fireplace.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” You remained silent, your doubt erupting in you as you waited for him to continue with bated breath. “We moved her to a closer room, next door to our, your, room, so that if something like that happens again one of us will know straight away.”

Cassian pulled back slightly, studying your features as though waiting for a reaction. You expression remained impassive; you could feel the other shoe about to drop and wanted him to tell you without beating around the bush.

“But,” He sighed, lifting your hand up and pressing a kiss to it, “I think, just for now, at least until things calm down a bit, I should go back to sleeping in my old room.”

“No.”

“Y/N – “

“No, Cassian,” You were shaking your head at him, not caring if you sounded needy or whiny or any of it. “This is the only time we can just be us. It’s already hard enough with keeping it a secret from everyone, I can’t lose this.”

“We decided, together, to keep this between us, there’s too much going on. And I don’t think Nesta will appreciate hearing us through the walls…” You cut him off with a scoff.

“Are you fucking serious, Cass? Are you worried about everyone finding out, or are you worried about Nesta finding out?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I never get to see you because you’re always with her. And now, because of her again, everything that our relationship is needs to go on hold? It’s not fair that after 50 years all I get is a few hours at the end of the day and to be kept your secret from everyone we care about.” You spat the word, all your emotions and fears finally bubbling over, however irrational they may be, but you had had enough.

“Sweetheart, we agreed that it’s for the best that we keep this between ourselves – “

“Well, I don’t agree anymore, Cass. I don’t want it like this. And don’t condescend me.” Your voice had a sharp snap to it. You needed something. Needed something other than the heartbreak that you could feel fast approaching; and a fight sounded like the next best thing.

“I’m not being condescending,” You could sense Cassian’s temper rising. “You can’t suddenly be angry because you’ve changed your mind without saying anything to me. And Nesta has nothing to do with this, it’s for...”

But the rest of his words became a blur at the sudden, incessant tug that pulled at your chest; that pulled you towards the male in front of you.

He was your mate.

Cassian was your mate.

You couldn’t do this, not now when you were in the middle of a fight. Not when Cassian didn’t even seem to be aware – or seem to care, a small voice taunted – of what had just happened. You needed to get away from him, to calm down and think before it could get even more out of hand.

“Cassian, just… Whatever, it’s fine. I’m tired, so just go back to your room, okay? We’ll figure the rest out later. I’m just…tired.” You finished lamely, voice cracking slightly as you watched him look you over, his frustration still evident, before walking out and loudly shutting the door behind him.

You slumped down, holding your knees to your chest as the sobs began. You had thought, had hoped, that Cassian was your mate. But this wasn’t how it was meant to go. Not mid-fight, with him having no idea of the bond’s existence while telling you he no longer wants to share your bed.

Having been so caught up in your thoughts and the overflooding emotions, you missed the flickering of shadows that darted around you. Moments later there was another knock on your door. Wiping your eyes, you called out in a chocked voice, “come in,” assuming it was Cassian.

Instead, Azriel quickly opened the door, closing it just as fast, before taking in the sight before him and making his way over to you.

“Y/N?” You could only sniffle in response, gratefully leaning against his side when his arm wrapped around you. “You alright?”

You remained silent for a few minutes, focusing on Azriel’s comforting hand brushing up and down your arm as you worked to control your breathing and halt your tears.

“I’m fine.” Your voice was hoarse and not at all convincing.

“Want to try that again?” You sent your elbow into his ribs, making the Shadowsinger chuckle before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

With a sigh he asked, “This has nothing to do with the fact that Cassian is suddenly sleeping in his room for the first time in, what? 50 years?”

You gaped up at your friend in shock and at a loss for words.

“You knew?

“Of course I knew. I live here too, remember? As subtle as you might think you’re being, I’ve got these,” His shadows danced around, reminding you that it was stupid to even entertain the idea that Azriel wouldn’t know.

“Oh,” A fresh set of tears filled your eyes and you stared intently into the flickering fire.

“Can you please take me to the town house? I don’t… I can’t be here.” Despite the late hour, you knew he would do anything for you in a heartbeat. While you and Cassian had been friends for decades before anything more had happened, you and Az had been close from the start, instant friends as soon as you had met.

“Of course.”

He waited for you by your bedroom door as you pulled together a small bag of your belongings, not knowing when you would be back.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

You didn’t turn to give the room that held so many memories a final glance as you shut the door behind you and followed Azriel out onto the balcony.

*****

Thankfully, the town house was dark and empty when you arrived, giving you the space and silence to process your thoughts and feelings. You had thanked Azriel for flying you over and had said a quick goodnight before you walked inside and headed upstairs.

Sitting on your bed, you vacantly stared at the wall, lost in thought as the minutes ticked by. You jumped at the sudden dip of the mattress beside you, only to find Azriel sitting there fixing you with a look of concern, a steaming cup of tea extended towards you.

“Thanks,” You murmured, taking a sip and revelling in the slight burn as the liquid went down your throat. “I thought you went home.”

“Not yet. Didn’t want to leave you alone like this.” There was a beat of silence before, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,”

You let out a weary sigh, content on sitting in silence but your thoughts quickly became too much, and you found yourself blurting out, “He’s my mate.”

Azriel whipped around to face you, shock coating his features.

“What? They didn���t tell you?” You gestured to the shadows that skittered around him with a sad smile.

“For how long? I thought you were just sleeping together.” He trailed off, giving you an uncharacteristically sheepish expression as you let out a somewhat bitter laugh.

“It started that way, when Rhys…left,” You whispered, revelling in finally telling someone even though it may well be over. “It was a distraction from the shit show that was going on, but then it just kept happening.” Azriel remained silent, letting you talk.

“A few years in, I realised I had fallen in love with him,” you voice cracked but you kept going, “Then he told me he loved me too. Said he had for a while.”

Azriel chuckled lightly, “That’s an understatement. He was infatuated with you from the moment you met. I knew something was going on or something had at least happened when he suddenly stopped talking to me about you whenever you weren’t there.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks at his words, but with a look and a comforting squeeze of his hand, you let out a shuddering breath and continued, “That was five years into Rhys being gone, and we’ve been together ever since.”

“Five years into… But Y/N, how? That means for over 45 years, the two of you have been…” You sniffed as he put the math together and watched as his eyes widened at the realisation. “How come you never told us?”

“We felt guilty that we found some type of happiness together when Rhys was trapped – “

“He wouldn’t have cared. He would have been happy for you; for both of you” Azriel interjected.

“I know,” You smiled sadly, “But it just didn’t feel right. And then he got back, and everything with Feyre and Hybern happened – it was never the right time.”

You could tell he was still confused, hurt even, about the two of you keeping your relationship private for so long, but he didn’t push you.

“I don’t know how I missed it.” He said, seemingly to himself.

“You only half missed it,” You joked, nudging his arm to try to ease the tension in the room. “We tried to act the same, things were just different when we were alone.”

“When did you realise you were mates?” You inhaled sharply, your earlier fight rushing back to you.

“Tonight. We were arguing and I just felt this tug and knew. He doesn’t know – at least I don’t think he knows.” You voiced your doubts, the weight of them getting the better of you.

“If he knew, he would refuse to leave your side. It just hasn’t snapped into place for him yet.” You gave your friend an appreciative smile and lent your head on his shoulder.

“I’m so tired.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll come back in the morning to check on you. You’re alright here?”

“Thanks Az.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before leaving the room; leaving you alone to finally mull over the fight, your emotions, and the fact that Cassian was your mate.

*****

“What’s up with you?” Mor plopped into the seat beside you, handing you a glass of wine that you gratefully took.

“Nothing,” You quickly murmured as the others traipsed into the dining room. You were aware of Cassian edging towards you and held in a sigh of relief when Azriel suddenly appeared in the seat on your other side.

It had been a week since you left the House of Wind to stay at the town house. A week since your fight with Cassian when you realised exactly what he was to you. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eye. Despite his best efforts to get you alone over the past few days, you conveniently managed to slip away every time. Tonight’s family dinner was the closest you had been to him all week, the realisation only making your longing for him even more dire – especially now that you were aware of that insistent tug that pulled you towards him.

Dinner was no different to how it usually went, except for the fact that you hardly said a word, opting to keep your eyes focused on the food in front of you. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice that Cassian also didn’t utter a single word throughout the meal, the only difference between you both was that his eyes were fixed on you, not his plate.

You jumped up as soon as everyone had finished eating, wanting to help clear the plates so you could get out and go home as soon as possible, not wanting to prolong the night for any longer than it needed to be. Too bad for you, Cassian was acutely attuned to your movements and jumped out of his seat seconds after to help in a desperate attempt to have at least one moment to talk to you.

Filling the sink with hot, soapy water, you sensed, rather than saw, Cassian follow you into the kitchen, body tensing up as he silently walked to your side. You worked in silence, scrapping dishes, washing plates, drying, and putting away. Cassian’s eyes were fixed on you, brows furrowing further with every passing moment you continued to ignore him.

“Y/N,” His voice was quiet, unsure. So different to his usual tone that it had you involuntarily turning to face him. Your heart stammered in your chest, the longing and hurt and confusion that had been tearing you apart in your time away from him threatened to burst as you finally met his hazel stare. “Are you… Are we okay? You just left and I had to find out from Az that you’re staying at the town house and now you can barely even look at me.”

His words came out hurried, frantic, as though if he spoke any slower you would disappear. Guilt flooded you at the hurt you found in his eyes, but your anger was still very much present, the lingering fear of him choosing Nesta over you held too strong for you to succumb to those feelings of guilt.

“I just need some time.” Voice barely above a whisper, you inwardly cursed as your vision blurred over with tears.

“Time for what? Y/N I don’t know what’s going on–”

“You both okay?”

Neither you nor Cassian heard Azriel approach, both turning to gape at your friend who hesitantly stood in the doorway.

“Fine. Just fine.” You pushed past him on your way out, not giving Cassian a second glance as you entered the spacious loungeroom to say goodnight to everyone. A few moments later the pair walked in after you, you missed the loaded glances they shared, not privy to the hurried conversation they had after you left the kitchen where Cassian had all but begged Azriel to intervene, to allow him the chance to finally talk to you.

“Hey, Y/N?” You turned to look expectantly at Azriel. “Did you still need me to fly you up to the House of Wind for that book?”

“Oh. Yeah, if that’s alright?” In your rush to get away the night you left you had forgotten to pack the next book you had been planning to read.

“Does tonight work? If you’re just about to head off…”

“Sure, I was just going to go…home.” Your voice trailed at the end, willing the blush away as you kept your head held high. You felt as though you didn’t know what home was anymore.

“Great, Cassian was just about to leave as well. He’ll take you up there.” With a clap to Cassian’s shoulder, Azriel sauntered over to where Rhys and Amren were talking, brushing off their questioning glances as he pointedly ignored you, allowing no room for dispute.

“Oh…”

“Is that alright?” You tensed at Cassian’s voice, glancing over your shoulder to find his wary eyes on you. It wasn’t like you could say no, it was not alright, without making a scene. You would be having words with Azriel the next time you saw him; judging by the slight smirk he was wearing, he seemed to assume just as much.

“Erm, yes. If that’s okay?” Cassian simply nodded before gesturing to the front door and, after another quick goodbye to everyone, you found yourselves outside. Another fumbled moment, then you were held tightly in Cassian’s arms with the rush of the crisp night air and an uncomfortable silence engulfing you both as he flew you towards the House of Wind.

You couldn’t stand the awkwardness. It had never been like this between the two of you and you hated that this is what it had come to. The relationship you shared, whether that be friendship or more, it had always come so naturally. Now you were faced with a stilted, tense atmosphere, not quite knowing what to say or where you stood. Then there had been the fight. Sure, you had argued before, after decades of knowing each other, you were bound to come into some disagreements along the way. But you had never had a fight like this, where you had both been so riled up, fuming at the other to the point where you had both stormed away and then not spoken for days. You hated it.

So caught up in your thoughts, you missed the slight detour Cassian was taking you on, only noticing once you were placed back on your feet and found yourself in the middle of the training ring, rather than the usual balcony that led into the house itself.

“What…”

“We’re hashing this out. Right now.”

“You want to…fight?”

“What?” Cassian did a double take, as if just connecting the location with why you would think that. “No, I don’t want to fight. That’s the problem, we are fighting. This just seemed like the most private place to work things out.”

You eyed him hesitantly, not knowing what you wanted your next step to be, especially when the urge to wrap your arms around him and inhale the scent that was so him, the scent that had become home, was so strong.

“So, words or swords?” Your eyes snapped to Cassian as he fiddled with the one of the discarded swords you usually sparred with.

Words

You wanted words. To talk this all out and be done with it, whichever way that turned out to be. But then an image flashed across your mind; an image of Cassian standing up here with Nesta, hands guiding her into the correct form, fingers shifting along her own to straighten her hold on the blade…

Without a single word, you walked to where Cassian was and hauled your own blade up.

“Okay then.” There was a slight smirk on Cassian’s face as he followed behind you into the centre of the training ring. The quirk of his eyebrow was all you needed before you were moving towards him, swords meeting with a clash that pierced the night.

You didn’t think about the moves you were making, giving way to centuries of refined and well-practiced instinct. Cassian was stronger, you knew he would hold out for longer, but you were well matched for now. Both of your foreheads started to sheen in sweat, pants of exertion echoed alongside the clank and clash of swords, and as you moved around and against one another, you finally let out all of your pent-up emotions until you had nothing left.

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore.” You gasped before dropping the sword and falling to your knees, tears streamed down your face at the sudden emotional outlet. Cassian was by your side in an instant, his sword dropped to the ground in a ricochetting crash.

“Y/N,” His voice was alert, on-edge, eyes dancing over you as he tried to work out what was wrong. “Are you hurt?” The frantic tone now had sobs racking from your chest, shaking your head you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cried and cried and cried. Without a second thought, Cassian had his arms around you, pulling you into his lap as he softly caressed your back and whispered soothing words into your ear.

He stayed silent, giving you the time and space to calm down and filter through your thoughts. Not once rushing you or demanding answers after a week of uncertainty.

“I’m sorry, Cass. I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I just…” At least you managed to get a few words out before you were overcome with tears once again. You weren’t sure what they were for at this point with so many thoughts and scenarios racing through your head: the fight, Cassian being your mate, Cassian getting close with Nesta, Cassian leaving you, Cassian leaving you for Nesta, and then you being forced to watch them be together, knowing you couldn’t stand the thought of him not being in your life, in whatever capacity you were granted.

“Shhh,” He soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he softly rocked you back and forth. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

With a deep breath, you nodded against his chest in an attempt to compose yourself. Noting in the position you were in, you could have laughed if you weren’t feeling so empty and deflated; this is how you had both gotten into this in the first place, all those years ago when you thought you would never see Rhys again – both of you with your arms around each other, crying and saying everything was going to be okay. Only this time, you weren’t so sure if the strength of your relationship would hold.

“Please, talk to me, Y/N. What’s going through that head of yours.”

You couldn’t take not knowing what was going to happen any longer. So with a final sniffle, you leant back, sitting on the ground beside him and pulling your knees up to your chest as you held your arms tightly around yourself.

“I don’t know where to start…”

“What about when you decided you wanted the others to know?” There was no malice in his voice, only gentle concern that prodded you to continue.

“I’ve always wanted the others to know,” You ignored Cassian’s slight indignation, “But it was never the right time, what with everything that was happening then, and everything that’s happened since. It felt like the right decision at the time, it felt safe. It was nice knowing that this was just for us when so much was going wrong. But I want to be with you outside of our room. I want to be able to hold your hand and walk through Velaris, kiss you in front of our friends, not pretend that you don’t mean the world to me, because you do Cassian.”

He remained quiet, letting you talk and giving you the space to get everything off your chest but the lingering presence of his hand drawing soothing circles across your back had you feeling grounded. “I love you and the thought of losing you has been tearing me apart.” You winced at the tremor in your voice, gaze fixed on the ground in front of you.

You didn’t dare mention the fact that you were mates. Not yet. He deserved the chance to properly say what needed to be said, without the cauldron’s interference tying him down if he did, in fact, want to leave.

“Why do you think you’re losing me?” Cassian’s voice was quiet and contemplative, as though processing everything you had said but not quite connecting the dots. The kiss to the side of your head had you inhaling a shaky breath and you forced yourself to will away the tears that threatened to spill.

“We’ve been so distant lately; we never get to see each other. And, look, I know it’s for Rhys, but I’m away all the time, and you’re always with Nesta. Then the other night when you said you didn’t want to share our room anymore, and that you were afraid she would find out… I don’t know, I guess it all just became too much.” You could feel his eyes on you but the blush burning your cheeks had you refusing to meet his gaze.

A moment later, Cassian softly said, “I never said I didn’t want to share a room with you, believe me, I want to spend every moment I can with you–” You made a noise of protest, but Cassian gently shushed you before continuing. “But Rhys and Feyre need Nesta to be okay and he’s given that job to me. I should’ve spoken to you about it first or explained it better when I said I was going to sleep in my old room. But you saw what Nesta was like before we got her up here, I didn’t think her seeing, or hearing, us together would be all that helpful – especially when she was using sex as a way to cope with everything.”

“Oh…” You felt stupid. Stupid and selfish and completely undeserving of the amazing, considerate male beside you.

“And,” Cassan continued with a playful nudge of his shoulder, “You have no idea how much I want everyone to know about us. No idea how hard it has been to not tell everyone that this amazing, brilliant, strong, kind female is mine. And just how hard it has been seeing other males so much as look at you without being able to say anything to them.”

You still couldn’t tear your eyes from the ground in front of you, but Cassian noticed the soft smile tugging at your lips.

“Cauldron, if you want, I can fly us back to the River House right now. We can tell everyone exactly what’s been going on, you can kiss me in front of all of our friends then we can go into Velaris, I’ll even let you hold my hand as we walk around.” Another playful nudge had you softly chuckling, eyes finally darting over to look at Cassian. Your heart faltered at the expression on his face, the complete love and adoration that laced his features as he watched you, his own mouth pulling into a smile at the laugh he managed to pull from you.

“Yeah?” Your voice was still slightly hoarse from your previous tears, but it was a touch lighter. You felt lighter.

“Yeah.” Cassian stretched his legs out in front of him, wrapping one arm around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, leaning back on the other.

Still, some doubt lingered. It couldn’t be this easy. Things were never this easy.

“So, you’re not going to leave me?” You couldn’t remember the last time you felt shy in front of him, and you hated yourself for asking, hated that he might think you weak, needy, pathetic – the words raced around, threatening to send you into a panic.

“Never,” That one word had you relaxing immediately. “You would have to force me to leave you, and even then… I’m not going aware, Sweetheart.”

You could have melted at his words. You swore you did as you leant against him, letting out a small sigh of relief, a breath you had been holding for days, weeks, months.

“Y/N?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the words whispered into your ear as his breath fanned across your skin. “Can I please kiss you now?”

You tilted your head up to face him, a small smile gracing your features as he slanted his lips over your own and you immediately felt as though you had returned home.

Pulling away all too quickly, your lips desperately chased his, only to receive a playful peck in response before Cassian was helping you to your feet.

“Come on,”

“Cass?” You laugh was laced with confusion, yet you followed him anyway, watching as he picked up the discarded sparring swords and placing them back alongside the others.

“What? We’ve got some news to share,” He stole another quick kiss as he laced your hands together.

“Now?”

“Yes now,” He mocked with a playful grin, “I don’t want to waste another moment, especially when it has you feeling as though–”

The abrupt stop to Cassian’s words had the smile slipping from your face as you took in his wide eyes and startled expression.

“Cassian, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N… You’re…” He let out a disbelieving laugh as he continued to stare at you, drinking in every feature, every miniscule detail and expression that crossed your face. Turning your head, you tried to look around for the cause of his sudden change in demeanour, only to be met with gentle, yet calloused, hands cupping your face, urging you to meet his gaze before his lips were pressed over yours again.

Despite the confusion, you gratefully accepted and leant into the kiss, relaxing as his arms draped around your waist and as you let your fingers travel up his neck before tangling into his hair. Cassian was breathing heavily when he pulled away, you could hear the pounding of his heart as he pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes remained tightly shut, the feel of his lashes fluttering across your skin sent your own heart fluttering in response.

Then he mumbled something incoherently; too quiet and smothered for you to even begin to comprehend.

“Hmm?” You asked, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Another murmur had you pulling away, eyebrows furrowing as you took in his dumbfounded expression and the way his eyes were still tightly shut. But there was now a smile tugging at his lips.

“Cass?”

“Mate. You’re my mate.” His eyes snapped open, revealing complete, utter joy as he stared at you with wonder and bewilderment.

Oh. Right.

“And you’re my mate.” At least you didn’t have to keep this to yourself any longer.

Cassian tilted his head as he processed your reaction and the way your lips spread into a soft, loving smile.

“You knew. You already knew.” Although his voice was laced with exasperation, his face held nothing but love and giddy excitement, eyes bright as he met yours. You sent a wave of affirmation down the newly linked bond, watching with joy as Cassian’s eyes lit up even further at the sensation. You knew you were grinning just as stupidly back at him when you felt a tug of your own filled with nothing but love.

The two of you stood there grinning and staring at one another as though seeing the other in a new light. Then you were both moving, arms a flurry as they desperately wrapped around the other, lips meeting in a loving and passionate kiss that only intensified with each tug that raced down the bond, igniting the need for more, so much more.

A gentle tap from Cassian and you were quick to jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his arms held you tightly against him. Through the kisses and moans and soft sighs, somehow Cassian found himself moving, walking the two of you to the door that would lead you inside and to your room.

“Wait,” You pulled back, gasping for air as you leant your forehead against his, legs still tightly wrapped around his middle. Cassian was panting just as heavily, waiting on your every move and word. “Kitchen.”

The suggestive grin he shot you went straight to your core, the feeling only amplified as he attached his lips to your neck. “I think I like where this is heading,” A soft moan sounded in the back of your throat as he tugged on your earlobe, then he was walking again, albeit very quickly, towards the kitchen, his lips back on yours.

“No, idiot,” Another moan had your breathless words halting immediately. “Food.”

Now Cassian pulled away, looking at you through the haze of love and lust, now tainted by a hint of confusion.

“Food,” You continued, pressing a kiss to his lips before trailing along his jaw and returning the favour with a tug on his earlobe. “For the mating bond.”

You felt Cassian’s body tense against you, “You’re going to accept it?”

“Yes…” you said tentatively, not quite understanding the need for his question because what other answer was there?

The intensity in which he kissed you had him stumbling back a few steps, arms wrapping even tighter around you to keep you in his arms.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Your gaze softened as you took in his uncertain expression, as you felt it through the bond.

“No, I don’t know. I just thought… I mean, you’re… Do you really want to be tied to a bastard-born Illy…” You cut his words off with a sharp look and a deep kiss that conveyed exactly what you thought of what he had just implied. Then you were sending every ounce of love and affection that you could muster towards him, heart melting as his expression changed and with the way he looked at you whilst processing the raw, vulnerability of the emotions surging down the bond.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, barely more than a lingering peck before saying, “Please can you let me give you some food now? I’ve been keeping this in all week.”

“All week? You’ve known about this since…”

“It snapped during our fight,” You shrugged, not wanting to relive it now that you had finally reached this point.

It was Cassian’s turn to pull you into a tender kiss before you found yourself overwhelmed by the new sensation of his emotions landing right above your heart.

“I think we can hold off on telling the others for just a little bit longer.”

“I think you’re absolutely right,” You tapped his arm gently and he placed you back onto your feet. Lacing your fingers with his, you pulled him into the kitchen and made him take a seat while you went about putting a plate of food together.

“Besides,” You continued, suddenly remembering Azriel’s involvement, “Az already knows. So I’m sure the others have put the pieces together by now and will steer clear for a few days.”

“A few weeks more like.” You grinned at the slight growl in his voice and the hunger in his eyes as his gaze remained fixed on you.

“Here,” Your voice was almost breathless, stomach fluttering with excitement and nerves as you pushed the plate towards him. Cassian briefly glanced down at it then, with a look of well-honed restraint, he slowly stood and walked over to you, pulling you in for a kiss as he murmured, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Without tearing his eyes away from you, Cassian reached across the table for the plate, eating everything on it as you remained transfixed on one another, basking in the feeling of the bond you shared growing stronger and stronger until, at last, everything felt as though it had finally fallen into place.

***** Thanks for reading 🥰

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Syd and Carmy- Communication 3

Part one Part two

First off. This scene was written by Chris Storer and directed by Joana Calo, our favorite duo (the creators of the table scene). Calo and Storer: do me a favor if the ship isn't real, don't even add shit like that in a scene...you know what I'm talking about. Don't have it where Carmy is taking her in and appreciating what the fuck he's seeing. And Carmy, the loser- notices Sydney as soon as she tries to sneak in. He doesn't even finish saying the word 'exactly' to Marcus before his eyes take her in.

But wait, this conversation is about legacy and how something starts somewhere, and they take these parts and take them somewhere- over and over again. I love that he points out these people would find each other.

Like a family tree.

Carmy and Sydney combine families to create a wholeness- something that's good.

Sydney starting a new legacy! My Shipper Heart: In some meta, Sydney often connected symbolism of life, fertility, rebirth, and nurturing. Chris Storer, these two are made for fanfiction, not a dish- a heart-shaped dish that Carmy just happens to give her- and this beautiful tree above her head- a symbolism for the tree he wants to build starts with the girl who ate his signature dish where he took the rebellion against abuse, rejection and sent a string of fate to start a legacy. What are you doing to me? Carmy literally presents his heart to Sydney.

Okay back to the scene:

He takes in Sydney and tells her "good morning," as if inviting her in. She comes from a meeting with Shapiro that should feel like good news, but she seems burdened. Since she first met with Shapiro, she enters, seeming distant but polite.

He says "no, no" as if to say, "Don't be ridiculous. You never interrupt." He's the one who invited her into the office.

He takes a moment to pause after saying "no," whispers "no," and looks at her...

Also, to note, he's coming from Al-Anon this morning. He has a clearer perspective than the last 7 episodes of that season. 'You look nice'—so simple but as the season's theme. Paying attention, Carmy sees her every day or close to it, and it's Carmy noticing something is different. Could it also be Carmy prompting her to say where she's been? There's room for that conversation.

But Sydney passes it quickly with a quick "Oh, thanks." A little surprised and also not having time for it right now. She focuses on their conversation- which could be a foreshadowing of what Carmy will do in the end.

I pointed this out before- Wednesday reference- 3x04- another episode Storer wrote.

Flashback

Carmy and Sydney are having the same day of the week they are trying to get through? The same day used to track time?

Excuse me-Writer/Director Chris--

But I'll move on...

You know what else I noticed about this scene- Carmy was staring at her the whole time as she took off her bow and said I'm just trying to get through Wednesday. He takes a second when she asks him his answer for legacy.

This is probably the most self-aware Carmy has been- does he realize he's passing panic and anxiety on to Sydney? Probably not yet at this point.

But also how Sydney is always the one to stop his anxiety and panic-driven ways, but for her to set a boundary where she's not his babysitter, eventually, he has to do the work to stop himself from panicking. But it's another sign of a legacy starting with them.

He looks at her a bit more than Marcus. He says with everything and everybody- he has to be square with Claire and Chef David. He needs to let go of the bad things from his past and the abuse he has held on to for so long.

The camera remains on Sydney as she considers his answer to legacy. She nods with understanding, unspoken communication we talked about- Carmy knows what he has to do. He wants to rid himself of the bad but needs help (therapy), so he's not taking it out on Sydney or any of his staff. How will he care for himself, love, and be there for Sydney? One of their relationship's central conflicts is Carmy showing up, the right way for Sydney to start their legacy and filter out the bad things he's carried onto The Bear.

I think that part of the conversation was considering Sydney, filtering out the bad to make it good.

It's still possible for Sydney to start and keep her legacy at The Bear. At the end of season 3, the panic attack is her realizing she doesn't want to leave.

Sidebar: Marcus. Marcus. His legacy-because being an awesome emergency contact is a bittersweet answer- shows some guilt about not picking up the call about his mom...

Grief. Grief is always the theme that sticks with the show. Despite its lingering presence, let's hope for more good days to outweigh the bad. Let's hope the Bear ends with a good legacy.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if you’d write a fic for lady lesso and Larissa (I just think that would be an interesting power couple) using prompt 19

Hey hey hey anon! Oh absolutely. Those two would be such a power couple. 👀 I love this, thanks for the request! Shout out to @bratty-honeyy who inspired part of this Fic 💋 Hope you enjoy 😘

Takes One to Know One ~Leonora Lesso xLarissa Weems

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#19. “I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, pure smutty smut, power struggle, teasing, kissing, strap fucking, overstimulation, implied degrading kink…?, etc.

Enjoy (;

Lady Lesso walked up the steps of Nevermore Academy. She walked through the corridors, on her way to the office of Principal Weems.

~~~

The two had been dating for a couple of months now. And it rocked both schools worlds when they found out. Everyone’s jaw dropped the moment the two walked outside their private walls for the first time, holding hands. They were quite the power couple…

~~~

Lesso entered her girlfriends office with a sigh, closing and locking the door behind her. It was Friday evening, which meant the red head had the blonde all to herself for the weekend.

“Hello, Darling…” Larissa hummed, doing a last couple of things on her lap top before beginning to put her work away.

God, that British of accent of hers always sent Leonora spiraling…

“Hey, Baby…” Lesso wickedly purred back, making her way across the office.

God, that wicked tone of hers always sent Larissa into a heated frenzy…

~~~

As to be expected, with the students discovery of Larissa’s and Leonora’s relationship, came a whole lot of gossip. The main question on everyone’s mind being: who dominated who?? The two were such a power couple that neither school could really make a solid decision.

What the students and staff didn’t see was the two women’s relationship outside of work. Yes, they were both quite dominant; but Leonora had established herself in charge quite quickly in their sexual life. Or at least that’s what Leonora thought, Larissa had something entirely different to say on the matter. But Boyyyy, did they have a sex life…

~~~

Once Larissa had put away her work, she turned her attention to her red headed lover.

“You know, I barely got any work done today…” Larissa thought out loud with a sultry and teasing edge to her tone, “Couldn’t concentrate by any means…”

“Oh? Is that so?” Lesso playfully quipped back, “Do tell me what was so distracting…”

“Hmmm, well I had this vivid daydream early in the morning of you going down on me in this very chair…” Larissa lustfully purred.

“Ohhhh, but you haven’t earned it, baby…” Lesso taunted.

At that, Larissa have Leonora a pouted lip and puppy dog eyes.

“Darling, I have had such a long day…” she sighed, playing along with the power game, “Why don’t you be a love and make me feel good, hmmm?”

Lesso’s eyes slimmed as she stared down her prey. She then rounded the desk where Larissa was sitting, and swiveled her chair around to the side, effectively trapping Larissa by holding the chair with both hands. With a snap of Lesso’s fingers, Larissa’s curls cascaded down to her shoulders, pin free.

“Do you really wanna brat on a Friday where I could punish you all weekend…?” She threateningly purred in the blondes ear.

But Larissa wasn’t going to back down that easy. Before Leonora could say another word, Larissa’s lips were on Lesso’s. Both women moaned into the kiss, and the fight for dominance began. Larissa pulled Leonora into her lap eagerly, and Lesso happily straddled the blonde while kissing her to high heaven. Their teeth clashed together as their tongues fought each other and they ravaged each others mouths. Larissa let out a particularly leud moan as Leonora but down on the blondes lower lip. Eventually, both women had to pull away for some oxygen.

“Did you lock the door…?” Larissa panted breathlessly.

The red head leaned her forehead against Larissa’s, looking up at the blonde with a smirk as she as well panted heavily.

“Yes, Baby…” Lesso purred.

She then moved her lips to Larissa’s right ear, nipping at her lobe.

“I even put on a silencing enchantment…” Lesso purred in the blonde’s ear.

Larissa shuddered slightly at Leonora’s words. Lesso then got up from Larissa’s lap and gripped her collar.

“Baby, I’ll do you one better than fucking you in this chair…” she wickedly purred.

Lesso the pulled Larissa swiftly from her chair around to her desk, so that she was trapping Larissa in between her body and the desk, Larissa’s ass flush against Leonora’s apparent bulge. Larissa’s breath hitched and she was quick to counter and spin around to meet her lovers gaze. Larissa pulled Leonora flush against her, grazing her lips against the red heads but pulling away.

“You’re packing, darling…?” Larissa husked in Leonora’s ear.

“Ohhhhh Yea, Baby…” Lesso lustfully purred, “And I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…”

The red head then swiftly spun Larissa back around and pinned her down to the desk. Larissa immediately squirmed to get out of Lesso’s hold, but with a snap of her fingers, Leonora’s magic bound Larissa’s hands to the edges of the desk. Larissa yelped in response. Leonora then began kissing the back of Larissas neck and shoulders.

“Color, ‘Rissa?” Leonora checked in with the blonde.

“Good God Green…!” Larissa groaned, her hips squirming.

Lesso groaned in delight, letting go of the blonde as the magical restraints could now hold her. Leonora then quickly stripped her bottom half to reveal her largest strap, while Larissa wiggled her ass in anticipation. Lesso was quick to snap her fingers for Larissa’s dress to magically fall to the floor, leaving the blonde in her lingerie. With a swift hand, Lesso removed Larissa’s knickers, swiping her fingers through the blondes folds and sticking her fingers in her mouth to taste.

“Hmmm…” Lesso groaned, “Delicious as always baby, but I think we can get you wetter…” she purred, placing her dick swell against the blondes ass.

Larissa growled lightly in response. Leonora merely chuckled while swiftly opening the blondes legs further for better access.

~~~

“Scream all you want, no one can hear you, baby…” Lesso wickedly purred.

Larissa couldn’t do anything but whimper desperately in response as the red head pounded into her relentlessly.

“Look up, Baby, God look how good you look being fucked over the desk…” Lesso lustfully growled.

Larissa’s eyes wandered up to her ceiling mirrors, and she damn near came again right there. There she was, splayed out across her desk, while Leonora rammed her dick into with no mercy. A strangled moan escaped the blondes lips.

“What…? You wanna cum again, Baby…?” Lesso taunted.

“Yes yes GOD yes…!!” Larissa cried out, nodding desperately.

~~~

“You’re so cute when you cry, god, you have no idea what you do to me, Baby…” Leonora wickedly purred.

Larissa’s mascara was running down her face and her knuckles were white against the desk. She was holding on for dear life, while being pounded into in the most delicious way.

“I wanna mark you up, I wanna fuck you till you break…” Leonora growled in the blondes ear with each merciless thrust into Larissa’s aching hole.

~~~

“God, you’re so wet for me, baby…” Lesso taunted, “Are you finally giving in…?”

Larissa was a mess of incoherent moans and cries at this point. Her cum running down her thighs as she cried out like a broken record, climax after climax.

“You don’t have to fight it, baby… you know who’s in charge, now, don’t you…?” Leonora husked in Larissa’s ear.

Larissa nodded vigorously and desperately, her throat completely strained and shot.

~~~

The next Monday, almost all of both schools questions were answered…

Professor Lesso couldn’t keep the biggest fucking grin off her face. And Principal Weems couldn’t walk three feet without either stumbling on her own toes or her knees just buckling all together.

It was officially clear who belonged to who…

~~~

[yujeong]

back again because another prompt came to me: I love the idea of vegas making pete confront his "nonpersonhood" by either fucking in front of a mirror, or vegas making pete verbalize every little thing he wants vegas to do. very much forcing pete to be present and say what he wants and needs. (in a healthy way)

Hello anon! My sincere apologies for not having answered this in so long, but I didn't have the proper brainworms for it. Also, apologies for answering the second one you sent me first, but I got inspired for this prompt today, so I decided to work on it. Hope you enjoy ❤️ CW: Bondage, Handjob ----------------------------------------------------------------------- There's a man in the mirror. Pete doesn't recognize him. He's tied up—wrists bound by rope, legs spread out on the large bed he and Vegas sleep in every night. His hair is a mess. His cheeks are flushed and his mouth is hanging open. His chest is heaving. He's completely naked; his cock is leaking precum on his stomach. The man in the mirror looks aroused, but uncomfortable. Lost. Out of his depth. But why? He's been in this situation plenty of times before. The position, the anticipation, the ache, it all feels familiar, and yet... "Pete." Vegas is standing next to the bed, his voice syrupy sweet. Pete turns to look at him. A good distraction; he tries to reach him, to lean closer for a kiss. Vegas grabs his face before he does. "No," he says, his smile replaced by a frown. "Not until you look." There's a man in the mirror. Pete doesn't know who he is. His breathing has grown heavier. He looks flustered; his bangs are glued on his forehead, sweat travels down his neck. He barely moves as he's stuck there, staring at someone who seems familiar, but isn't. He shouldn't be. "Look at you," Vegas whispers in Pete's ear. Pete can't understand what he means, but a shiver travels down his spine regardless. And then Vegas licks Pete's earlobe and it feels like a punch to the gut. His body reacts on its own, his voice too. It sounds like a moan, but Pete is too out of it to hear. His eyes are stuck on the man in the mirror, on the horror crossing his expression, on the realization that renders him breathless and aching. He probably started crying at some point, because Vegas is suddenly shushing him and caressing his hair and kissing him everywhere. It feels horrible. Pete hasn't felt this good in ages. Vegas doesn't waste any more time after that. He uses his hand to make Pete come and it feels exhilarating and like Pete is going to die, but he doesn't. A scream escapes his lips when the orgasm comes. It surprises him; it's never happened before. He calms down eventually. Vegas is there to take care of him, to remind him. He was staring at his reflection the entire time.

[zephyrchama]

I loved, LOVED your movie night fic with Dia and Barbatos so much!! It was so sweet!! (And loved getting to see them both relax with MC in a way they wouldn’t normally)

Would there happen to be a part 2 in the works? 🥺

AAA thank you!! I wasn't planning on it, but if somebody enjoyed it that much I'll definitely consider a sequel! They do have many more movies to watch, after all. If you want to send another ask, I can write the sequel as a response to that so you get notified when it's eventually made (hopefully I make it eventually). (I think anons get notified when their ask is published? Probably.)

Some of the other asks/requests people have sent that I intend to get to are:

-A sequel/side characters version of MC turning back into a human after being a sheep (I think that was my first post so those requests have been waiting forever sorry fbfjfj, I did write out one for Barbatos already but it hasn't been posted yet)

- An MC who likes to play fight with the demons (I've never done this but it sounds so fun, thus I've been having trouble thinking of individual reactions and might write it as a scenario with everybody)

- someone told me to hop on fortnite and I have no idea what this means but it moved me and sounds like a levi prompt. thank u.

- A religious MC who prays for the brothers (this sounds fun too)

- An MC with protective older brothers meeting the demon brothers (I have more ideas for "before meeting each other" than I do for an actual meeting, if thats cool with the prompt sender)

Sorry to hijack your ask and ramble about other things!! Tldr yeah I'll write a sequel, or at least something similar! tbh I can never write things if I plan to sit down and write. It just sort of happens spur of the moment so I will do my best to get to all of these and I apologize again if it takes a long while!

[red-dead-sakharine]

Sundered by the Styx

underdog!Raphael, RaphaelPOV, Raphael x m!OC, conflicted!cambion, hurt/comfort, warlock!OC, tiefling!OC, whump, pining, relationship with obstacles Spawned from anon 🔴 prompt. I hope anon forgives me for naming Tav. The prompt was so close to my own character, I decided to indulge myself.

Part 1 | Part 2 (soon)

"Nice decor." An interesting response. Not phased by being whisked away to some unknown place. And either brazen or of good taste. Which one of the two, Raphael had yet to figure out.

"The House of Hope, where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed - lavishly. Go on. Partake. Enjoy your supper. After all, it might just be your last."

The tiefling who seemed to be the leader of the group of mortals raised a brow, then turned and browsed the table. Eventually he picked up a particularly good looking piece of cake and began eating. A sweet-tooth. Raphael was intrigued by the reaction. "Not easily rattled, I see. Good. Makes the next part that much more straightforward." And with that, he dropped the human guise and showed off his true from. Spreading his wings and preening before his audience. The mortals looked shocked. "Fuck. A cambion." the other tiefling, Karlach, cursed. "What's better than a devil you don't know? A devil you do." Raphael cited his practiced line with a satisfied grin. The leader of the group kept chewing on his cake, only halting for a short moment when Raphael revealed himself, then returned to munching. Raphael had to admit, the equanimity of this one intrigued him. Provided it wasn't utter stupidity that made the mortal simply dull and callous. He would find out sooner or later. He continued his introductory speech, enjoying the mortals' reactions to it. Ah, he loved the underlying panic in their expressions.

When he was done with his speech, he waited for their reaction. The group looked to their leader, who swallowed the last bite of cake and cleaned his hands with one of the napkins from the table. Manners, Raphael observed approvingly. "Great introduction," the tiefling said honestly, "I liked the 'devil you don't know' part. Very clever." Raphael raised a brow, trying not to look too taken aback by the reaction. "Alas, I'm afraid I won't be making any deals anytime soon." He put the napkin back neatly on the table and offered a slight bow, "Varvain 's the name, by the way." The name rang familiar to Raphael, but he couldn't quite place it. Some of the tadpoled mortals had been harder to identify than others. Karlach and Wyll had been easy to figure out, due to Raphael's decent rapport with Zariel.

But this one - this Varvain - he had trouble to place. He could sense the warlock pact, but he didn't know who or what he was pacted with. Another fiend would explain the unflappable attitude upon seeing a devil. It would also be highly inconvenient for Raphael.

"By all means, take your time," he told the mortals, "Shop around..." He launched into another dramatic speech, enjoying himself greatly, as he put on the theatrics. Upon finishing, he sent the mortals back to where he had plucked them from.

Raphael rubbed his chin in contemplation for a moment, before snapping his fingers to summon Korrilla. "Watch those mortals, and eavesdrop on their leader. I need to know who is lending him their powers." The dwarf nodded, "Will do, boss." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand; sending her back to the mortal realm.

The leader of the group lingered on his mind. "ell mannered, not easily rattled, and admittedly not unpleasant to look at. Raphael's eyes fell to the napkin left neatly on the table, and narrowed his eyes in contemplation. The tiefling didn't look highborn, but he certainly knew decorum. An intriguing puzzle. A puzzle, Raphael set out to solve.

He mobilized some of his resources within Baator to discreetly keep an ear out for any mentions of a Varvain. It didn't take long until one of the cambions sworn to him returned with news. "I might have found this Varvain's patron, master." she said, as she approached Raphael, who was browsing books in the archives. "Well, don't let me wait." He responded drily, turning his attention to the other fiend. "I figured someone in the Fetters in Dis might know him. And they did. He actually has a bit of a reputation there." the cambion reported, "Apparently he's the favorite pet of a pit fiend called Frith."

Raphael's expression turned into an annoyed frown, "Frith..." He felt the need to punch something. Or someone. He knew the name. One of Dispater's lap dogs. "Anything else?" he asked, trying his damnedest to stay composed. The cambion shook her head, "No, master. That's all I could find out without my questioning becoming obvious." Raphael nodded, "Good work," and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He mulled the information over in his head for a while. This might be an obstacle for his plans, depending on the details of the contract between Frith and Varvain that gave the mortal his power.

When he finally turned to leave the archive, he saw the Archivist giving him a look Raphael didn't appreciate. Upon seeing the devil glaring at him, the archivist swiftly busied himself with a ledger.

The cambion's nostrils flared in annoyance, but breaking spines would have to wait. He had a problem to solve.

Raphael made his way to Dis. He didn't particularly like the place; mostly because every time he came here, the streets had changed, making navigation difficult. It ground against his sense of order. At least coming here was easy enough. Due to the fetters being accessible to mortals, Raphael could just slip in without any trouble.

The fetters' market was a curious sight. Mortals and devils, both peddling their wares to each other. Many a deal struck, many a soul claimed. Though he did not like the city, Raphael had to admire the industrious efficiency of the procurement of souls in this place.

He focused back on his task - it wasn't hard to find Frith's haunt, the "bath house", as he called it. Truly it was more of a brothel, but appearances mattered in some way, when trying to trap mortals. It was a gaudy place he's been to before. There was a pool in the middle of it, so technically calling it a 'bath' was valid, even if most of the mortals who found themselves lured here, ended up enjoying either the music, or other physical pleasures outside the water. In a way, the place reminded him of Sharess' Caress, but with very different clientele. In the far back, on a dais lording over the place stood, what could only be described as a throne, with a large bed not far behind it. Raphael wrinkled his nose but was glad, that Frith wasn't heaving any entertainment right now. The pit fiend sat on his "throne", wearing his more palatable disguise of a handsome devil - tiefling, even - with short horns, slicked back hair, and a gaudy beard that reminded Raphael of both, his father and Dispater.

As he walked along the outside of the pool, Raphael took stock of the other beings present. Most were mortals, either guests who will probably never be able to leave again, or Frith's enslaved mortals who offered the entertainment. Some played music, some made food, some lulled the guests into letting their guard down by massaging them, and some... well. But there were also devils here. A succubus or two, Raphael noticed. Made sense, given the purpose of this place. But also some other devils who were here to be entertained. Probably allies of Frith's enjoying some sort of treat, Raphael assumed.

He was pulled from his thoughts, as he closed in on Frith's "throne". "You, cambion, you're not one of mine. I hope you have a good reason to be here." Frith's smooth but powerful voice boomed at him. Cambion. Raphael ground his teeth. Not only did the pit fiend not recognize him, he was also degraded to just a cambion. "I would have a word with you," he replied, doing his best to not let his frustration show. "I don't waste my time with half-breeds not sworn to me. So unless you're here to pledge your undying allegiance - shoo." Frith waved his hand dismissively.

Raphael clenched his fists in anger. Half-breed? Half-breed!? He took a deep breath, "I am Raphael. You might have--" "Oh, one of Mephistopheles' brood. I've heard of you." Frith interrupted him with a chuckle, "Bit of a rebel from what I hear. Not in your father's best graces, hm?" Raphael wanted nothing more, than to wipe that smirk off the fiend's face. But he knew he was no match for him - yet. This would all change, once he had the Crown of Karsus. Only a matter of time...

He took a frustrated breath, "Yes. My father and I don't exactly see eye to eye. But I'm not here to speak about him." Frith kept smirking condescendingly at the cambion before him, "Well, I am intrigued what would bring you here, half-breed, So I'll humor you." he beckoned Raphael to come closer, which he did. "Why do you visit me in my humble abode?" Raphael's jaw clenched, "I think I have stumbled upon one of your wayward warlocks." he tried to sound casual, "And I got curious what kind of relationship you have with them. I've seen different kinds of patronages during my days. I'm always interested to..." he gestured vaguely, "...learn, from others and their experiences."

Frith's superior smirk slowly vanished, "And which warlock would that be, pray tell? Do you have a name?" Raphael did his best to sound conversational, "He did introduce himself as Varvain." The moment he said the name, he saw something shift in Frith's expression. Though he couldn't quite tell what it was. "Varvain - my pet. He's having an unplanned vacation in the mortal realm." Frith replied and narrowed his eyes, "How did you run into him?" Raphael shrugged, "Oh, I was looking for souls, you know. Lots of death going on at the Sword Coast these days." He smirked a little. Frith regarded the cambion for a bit, "Well, you won't have Varvain's soul. It is mine." he put a lot of emphasis on that last word, adding a threatening undertone that was hard to miss. Raphael gave a little sideways nod, "Far be it from me to get between you and your pet. But pray tell, might I have a look at his contract, by any chance?" This was far from smooth, but there was no way around asking about the contract sooner or later, "Merely to serve as inspiration for my own, you understand. There's a little tiefling girl I'm interested in... mentoring."

Frith was quiet for a moment, as he looked Raphael up and down. Then he stood up, smiling casually - but something wasn't right, Raphael could tell. "You want to look at Varvain's contract?" He echoed the request, as he stepped down from the dais and approached Raphael. The cambion felt like he should be retreating, but he stood his ground. An error. Frith's hand shot up, grabbing Raphael by the throat and pulling him close to his face, "Varvain is mine, and whatever you think to want or get from him, you best swiftly forget about it, you half-mortal filth." Frith growled. Raphael grabbed the pit fiend's arm, tried to wrest himself free, but to no avail. "I am no mortal!" he croaked angrily, defiantly, but only got a laugh in response. "Well, you're certainly no devil either." Frith hissed and tightened his grip. The cambion tried to respond but all that came out of his strangled throat was a strained gurgle. "Mephistopheles would probably thank me for getting rid of you, but you are his problem, mortal spawn. Get out of my domain. Now." He threw Raphael to the ground like a ragdoll, "And if you dare to even so much as sniff on Varvain's soul, I will throw you into the pit of flame myself!"

Raphael could see the pit fiend's eyes burn with rage, and he had no doubt he was one spark away from dropping his disguise. Coughing, Raphael staggered to his feet. He glared angrily at the other devil, but he knew if it came to open violence, he would draw the short end of the stick. The entire bath house had become silent. The music had stopped and nobody dared to speak or move. Raphael glared at Frith, but he knew when to make a tactical retreat. He turned and stomped out of the building, stewing in his anger and frustration. He swore to himself, once he had the Crown of Karsus, he would return and tear Frith limb from limb. But for now he would have to bide his time.

He returned to the House of Hope to nurse his bruised ego.

(To be continued...)

[silverryu25]

Ooooh I got another idea, so here we go: Day 4, Time Travel, plus the dialogue prompt "But what if we don’t burn alive? What if we just burn for each other? Isn’t that a possibility too?” I hope you like it! -Mystery

Thank you @mystery-fic-anon!! :D

This was a real brain-teaser honestly! A tough combo but I hope I managed to nail it XD

DAY 4 - Time Travel + “But what if we don’t burn alive? What if we just burn for each other? Isn’t that a possibility too?”

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

Red growled out another swear as he paced from one side of the cell to the other, glaring daggers through the iron bars that lined one of the walls.

It was a damp and smelly place, worse than any of the nasty spots in the dump he used to hide in as a babybones in the underground. It made his bones itch and his nasal cavity flare in pure disgust he couldn’t get rid of even after a few hours in this clusterfuck of a prison.

Living on the surface really spoiled him when something like a nasty hole in the wall could sour his mood this badly.

If only he hadn’t been so eager to try the new invention he and Sans were playing around with, then this mess wouldn’t have happened. A time machine didn’t seem possible while they were stuck in the underground with limited resources, but once they reached the surface and the two undergrounds finally merged together (relatively) peacefully, there wasn’t much to do so Sans and Red started talking about everything and anything. Their talk eventually led to their backgrounds in science and engineering, then led to some experiments and finally resulted in them playing around with the machine from their basements. 

A time machine.

It took them a few years to get it to do what it was supposed to, but once they had all the kinks figured out, the only thing left to do was try it out. Unfortunately, Red might have jumped the gun just a tiny bit too early and pushed for an experiment that didn’t go exactly as planned and ended up with this fucking mess. A prison in some medieval shithole of a town full of witch hunting morons that took one look at them and immediately started one of their witch, or in their case monster, hunts.

Now here he was staring daggers at cell bars and contemplating how to get out of this angle forsaken hellhole.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a chuckle from behind him and his first instinct was to spin around and swear at the one making that sound, but he couldn’t. Not when the melodic and deep chuckle sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t fair. Here he was, stuck in one of the worst possible spots since he got out of the underground, yet he couldn’t even be properly angry at his partner in this mess.

Instead, he just turned a glare towards Sans, who just smiled brightly at him.

“come on, red.” Sans patted the seat next to him on the straw cowered plank. “you’ll walk a hole in the ground if you continue like that.”

“wha’ else ‘m i s’pposed ta do, sans?” Red growled out as he turned his eyelights back towards the bars.” “sittin’ ain’t gonna get us out.”

He could hear rustling behind him, but no footsteps. Sans probably sprawled on the pathetic excuse for a bed and played his usual lazybones routine. He’d be annoyed if he didn’t find Sans’ confidence kinda hot. But given their situation, he was too would up to really appreciate it at the moment.

“hole up here with me and we’ll figure stuff out together.”

Red didn’t miss the pun but he clenched his teeth to stop himself from snorting. This was no time to encourage Sans to joke around. They were in serious trouble.

“sans. they’r gonna burn us alive in a few ‘ours if we don’ get outta ‘ere.” 

There was no answer, the quiet somehow deafening. Red didn’t want to scare Sans, he was determined to get them out of this in one piece. But he needed to focus and if making scaring Sans to take the situation a bit more seriously was needed, he would do it. Anything to keep them safe with all their parts intact.

He wasn’t sure how fast bones burned and didn’t want to find out.

“but what if we don’t burn alive?” An uncharacteristic pause followed Sans’ words making Red turn to look at him with a raised browbone. “what if we just burn for each other? isn’t that a possibility too?”

Red’s cheekbones exploded with a crimson blush, lighting up their dark cell. Just as he realized that was another pun and almost shrugged it away as one of Sans’ usual jokes, he noticed a soft blue blush spreading on Sans’ cheeks. Sans looked almost shocked that those words came out of his mouth, as if his own tongue betrayed him.

Red carefully parted his teeth, ready to ask what the hell Sans was going on about when a loud crash rang through the hallway in front of their cell.

The guards.

They were coming to get them.

There wasn’t any time for Red to drill information out of Sans but he wouldn’t drop this.

Now he had to focus on getting them out and safe. After…

After that, Sans and him are gonna have a very burning chat about what he meant.

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

Tada!! Hope you like :D

The setting is basically: Sans and Red played mad scientist, invented time machine, used it and ended up in the wrong time, got caught by medieval people that decided to burn the demons…

Red is all about “gotta get us out of this alive” while Sans is more in the “should I confess in case we don’t get out alive” type of headspace UwU

They will get out alive of course, but the accidental half-confession will definitely have consequences >;3

[acupofqueercoffee]

“Told by the stars”

Requests by @anonymous

hi !!! i love love love the way you write for lady lesso, so i'd like to request, if you can & want to, bottom leonora! she's always the top, but i'd love to read something where the reader takes care of her, with lots of aftercare after : — ps: you've said that you're more of an angst person, but i honestly think your fluff fics are some of the best i've read, ever!

can u please do some more 18+ with lady lesso?

‼️ BOTTOM LEO SMUT ALERT. 18+ i’m afraid i couldn’t really get into details concerning aftercare but r did pamper tf out of her afterwards 😮‍💨 aww also thank you! it makes me very happy to know that you love how i write for leo. i hope this is to your liking as well. and yes, it is true that i’m more into angst but it’s funny because i haven’t really wriiten anything that is pure angst lmao 🥹 but i do so love angst. angst is exquisite. angst is divine. angst is everythingggg. ok anyway..have fun reading 🌝

PS — there’s another prompt someone sent in that is very detailed and interesting. hello anon! whoever you are if you’re seeing this (do not question if it is you, yes it is you. i only currently have one suggestion), i just wanna let you know that i’d like to take my time with it but i give you my word that i will definitely eventually write it 🙌🏻

───────────────────────────────────

The heavenly bodies gaze at her with envy, for under the sky teeming with thousands and thousands of them, it is not them, but her that you choose to lavish your seemingly endless adoration on.

The twinkles whisper amongst themselves, some in disbelief, others in fondness, how you are focusing solely on her, and only her in the same way many people are held spellbound by the beauty of them.

You are a peculiar one, a little star murmurs to itself, marvelling at the woman for simply existing, and paying no mind to the sky full of sparkling spectacles.

Until tonight, they have always been at the receiving end of people’s wonderment. Some people admire them for hours upon hours, seeking constellations with absolute awe and childish glee on their faces. While they have been traced many a time with eyes and fingers, this is undoubtedly their first time being traced upon a person’s skin with lips so soft and tender.

───────────────── ･ ･ ･ ✶

Your lover’s eyes are sprinkled with stardust. They shimmer. They twinkle. They look at you as though the stars in the nightsky are your doing. Oh but those tiny glittering gemstones in her eyes are indeed your creation, and truthfully, they put the stars to shame.

She has returned home positively stressed. Brows dipped and lips downturned, she has rambled on and on about how insufferably annoying that bubbly, cheery woman is, and you automatically understand, she must have been in a squabble with Dovey as they always do.

Your girlfriend on the other hand is still fuming, voice gradually rising, and while you might have found it frighteningly intimidating five years ago as one of her students, now all you find, as her one and only lover, is someone who is having a temper tantrum for not getting her own way.

Suppressing the urge to chuckle, but still allowing yourself a small smile, you steal a kiss from her. Lips landing directly atop the adorable little furrow between her brows.

A sigh is released, and she melts into your body, face seeking solace against your throat. On your skin like toasty bread, you feel kisses like a rain drenched butterfly flapping its wings. When she trails them down, down, down to your collarbones, and down still to your breasts, you stop her.

She looks at you with stunned worry, eyes quizzical, but once she tries to speak, you beat her to it, voice but a soft murmur, “I want to take care of you tonight.”

Her face is blank for a moment.

And then, something blossoms on her lips, too cheeky to consider a smile but too kind to consider a smirk.

Her face approaches yours, remaining a whisker away. You know that she is smiling, feel it on your cheek when her lips caress your skin, “Dazzle me, darling.”

You have taken her to the room where she usually likes to study the stars. Located on the farthest corner of the house, it has glasses for walls on one side, and the absence of roof offers an unobstructed view of the charming night sky.

You have specifically chosen here, for you want to perform your ritual of devotion with her favourite stars in audience.

You sink to your knees between her thighs, fingers flying to the button of her pants. With every bit of skin unravelled, your lips commit everything to memory, the mementos she has collected throughout her life, her lovely little moles, her freckles, every little detail that makes her her, your Leo.

In the end, she is left in nothing but her lingerie. It is a spicy, delicious shade as mouth-watering as blood-red jam. Now more ravenous than ever though you are, you have every intention of taking your sweet time with her, and you are hell-bent on realising your resolution.

So, you take her foot into your lap, hold it gingerly in your hands, and after bringing it to your lips, press a delicate kiss onto her ankle. Your lips trail along the length of her shinbone. They linger on her knee where a scar almost in the shape of a heart lies. You have asked her about it before, “I got it many many moons ago while playing in the woods. I fell down as kids usually do.” , and so you have been told.

Her other leg, too, is equally lavished with kisses, but your lips wickedly, purposefully never cross the threshold of her knees.

When her hand rests atop your head, fingers sinking into a forest of mane with intention, your lips curve into a naughty smile.

“Just how badly do you want me, Leo?”

“Do not tease.”

The sharp talons on her fingertips are painful against your scalp as her slender digits become entangled in your hair. Still, you persist, a cheshire grin on your face,

“But you do.” You protest, and she levels a glare. “And you won’t.”

Two can play that game then.

You are rather confident, for the tables are turned tonight, as well as determined to make your beloved dean fall apart in your arms. You want to witness the almighty Lady Lesso crumble on your tongue. You crave to taste her from the very source, ache to savour her like the delicacy that she is.

You are going to worship her for she is your goddess.

But first and foremost, your famished ears long to hear it.

“Beg me then. Say you want me.”

You desperately need to hear it spelled explicitly by those lips just how much she wants you.

“Tell me what you want me to do, and I will.”

A kiss is dropped atop her milky thigh. A punishment rather than a reward.

“Diable! Begging was the last thing on my mind when you told me you wanted to take care of me.”

“What can I say, professor?” Another press of your lips on her stomach. “I learned from the worst after all.”

You can feel her shudder beneath you. The slightest of irregularities in her breathing lets you know that a little nudge, and the restraint will snap.

“Well?”

“I want you.”

“Please, I want you.”

With mirth and mischievousness dancing in your eyes, you challenge her, “Oh Leo, is that the best you’ve got?”

“I want you. I want your mouth on me, your tongue inside me. Please. I- I need you so bad.”

Now, that is more like it.

In all honesty, all this teasing and stalling have been as much a torture to you as it must be to her.

It does not mean that you do not enjoy taking your time with her. It simply means that with every tantalising whiff of that uniquely ambrosial aroma, your hunger for her grows to the point that your mouth tingles as if being electrocuted.

The euphonious tune of your name drizzling out of those honeyed lips, coupled with her scent that smells so invitingly divine galvanise you greatly. Unable to keep the greedy little beast within you at bay any longer, you dive face first to have a taste of your meal. Warm, wet, and unequivocally yours.

By now, the urge to taste her is becoming all-consuming, so, you care little about the red satin shielding her from your eyes. It will have to go very soon, but right now, uncaring, you lick a long stripe along the length of her slit.

Fuck! Your woman tastes exquisitely divine. Rich, tart, smokey, yet there is an underlying sweetness to her that really stands out and lingers afterwards. It brings you back to a time in the past where you have accidentally poured red wine into coffee, but then, discovered that they compliment each other, further falling in love with the exotic drink.

She must be dripping wet, you realise, for you to be able to break down every flavour even through another layer, and that realisation is gasoline to the raging fire in your guts. Now, you can no longer bear being separated by even a flimsy little fabric, and your desire to get it off her body is encouraged further by her voice, spine-tinglingly sultry, “Off. I want it off.”

Not needing to be told twice, you hook your teeth into the waistband, hear her release a shuddering breath when your teeth, for a fleeting moment, catch her hipbone. You maintain eye contact with your woman as you make a scandalous show of pulling it achingly slowly down her legs. Completely freed off lingerie, she wraps her gorgeously long legs around you, caging you in, and wanting nothing more than to finally tuck into your food, you comply this time, when the fingers in your hair reins you towards where she needs you the most.

You cannot help but moan yourself at the soft little mewl that flies past her lips once she is entirely engulfed by your moist mouth. She has a bush of strawberry curls, and it pleasantly tickles wherever they touch you. Once you have found the precious little pearl, you perform a harsh suckle, sucking it into your mouth and rolling it on your tongue like a hard candy.

Her heels dig into your back. The arching of her back allows you better entry to her core. Your tongue slithers into her tightness like a sneaky snake, and those willowy thighs quaver around you. The fingers digging into the soft skin of her hips prevent her from writhing as your wicked tongue demonstrates its mastery deep within your lover’s soft, succulent walls.

The tip of your tongue presses deliciously into her sweet spot over and over again until it has her toes curling, and her hips stuttering wildly in your hold. Your neck is snugly cradled in her thighs, and even though they nearly choke you to death, you cannot help the wide grin on your face, like a cat that has gotten the cream.

And indeed, you have. Not only have you eaten your former professor, now lover out like a starved man, like a perched man, you have also drank as much of her nectarous essence as you can.

Still, some of them, you miss.

Rivulets of her wetness dribble down your chin instead, and now, you poke your tongue out to lick it all clean. Not a droplet is to go to waste.

Her haywire strands seem to glow under the light of a thousand stars. With cheeks flushed and chest heaving, she looks every bit the epitome of an otherworldly creature. Once her legs relax around your body, you leave a trail of soft, butterfly kisses in your wake until you reach her face.

Although her eyes are closed, she hums happily when you capture her lips, nipping it gently for entrance, and sucking her tongue into your mouth once they part. Fingers suddenly find home on your chest, grasping your garment as she mewls softly into the kiss.

✶ ･ ･ ･ ─────────────────

Tonight, the stars observe the woman, whereas in the past, it has been the woman observing the stars for as long as they can remember.

For the longest time, they have watched her watch them. Alone. Every night. Although she appears unfazed, they sense it more often than not, the sadness, the loneliness, the stress, all of those bottled up emotions bubbling beneath a seemingly tough shell. They even witness her cry sometimes.

She has been alone for many moons, and then, one day, they spot someone else beside her. A girl. You. Ever since then, the stars gain another admirer as well as a new object to observe. Although, they are not sure whether it is fair to call you an admirer, because from as far as they know, the stars are not the object of your fascination, but rather, their true admirer, the woman. Even though the stars can see this from thousands and thousands of miles away, she, who is right beside you, seemingly cannot.

And then, one night, you confess to her, and the stars await her answer with bated breath as do you. They can almost feel the heartache that you must have felt when she laughs at you mockingly, and thereupon invalidates your feelings. You are a stubborn thing, they quickly discover, asking questions and demanding reasons. It happens then, so uncalled for that even the stars are appalled. She has struck you so ruthlessly across your face, and with tears streaming down your bruised cheeks, you have run, run without so much as a backward glance.

Only when you are gone do the stars notice the woman’s face glistening under their presence.

Alas, she, too, is crying.

It is safe to say that she has been as equally surprised and perplexed as the stars by the time you come rushing into the room once more. She has asked you why. “Why have you come back after everything I’ve said and done?” She has asked, and you have smiled, held the sobbing woman against your chest. “Because I love you so.”

Following that rollercoaster of a night, they have never seen the woman alone. There is always you by her side.

Not only are they being ignored by you tonight, apparently, they are also the last thing on their avid admire’s mind.

And now, they watch fondly as you haul your woman into your arms, carry her towards your bedroom where afterwards, the two of you proceed to the bathroom. In the bathtub, she is cradled against your chest, and instead of actually bathing her, you make pampering her with more kisses your main goal.

All in all, yours is a tale truly worthy of being scribed in the stars — approved by the heavenly bodies themselves.

────────────────────

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Weak/Weary (m, cold)

Babe, wake up whiskey’s posting the first of her monthly barrage of fics. It’s a Greyson-centric drama fest, guys! I realized looking back at my earlier fics that I mentioned a character named Collin who Greyson lived with and I literally never mentioned him again, so it’s time to bring him up and write him out lol. This is sappy, it’s dramatic, it’s full of angst, and I hope you all like it! I used several prompts that an anon sent from the prompt list I reblogged last month, as well as a few that @onetrickponi sent me from their amazing prompt list. I’ll list the ones I used before the fic. 

If you’ve sent in a prompt, I will get to it eventually!! Obviously I’m terrible at promising when fics will get written, but they will at some point lmao. 

This is 3k words, CW: male, cold, coughing, some light mess, mentions of contagion but no explicit contagion moments, breathing issue mention due to a panic attack...this fic has *everything* lolll. 

Here are the prompts! Thank y’all for sending prompts in, they’re the only thing that keeps this writing train somewhat on track. Some prompts were used more loosely than others. 

“Having a cold does not make you weak.”,  “You’re sneezing everywhere. Clearly, something’s up.”,  Hiding sneezes,  “That deserved an Emmy.”,  “See, it’s when you smile like that I start to worry.” 

Onward!

Weak/Weary

There was a saying for the day Greyson was having, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of it.

It wasn’t ‘Occam’s Razor’, or at least he didn’t think it was—is that the one where the simplest answer is the correct one? - and it certainly wasn’t ‘Pavlov’s Dog’, though that was the one that kept sneaking into his foggy mind. Fuck, what the fuck was -

“HhNGSTHH-ue! HhTSHH-ue! HNGITSZHUE! Fuuuck mbe.” Well, there went that distraction.

Greyson swiped under his nose with the back of his hand, cringing when it came away wet with mucus. He wiped the evidence on his pants before pushing through the back doors to the restaurant and trudging towards the office. Surely his staff could hear him coming before they even saw him – fucking Collin and his fucking cough and his fucking cold and his fucking stupid fucking face that motherfuck-

“Morning, Chef,” Elijah called from the office, startling Greyson just enough to send him into another sneezing fit before he could curb it.

“NGSTH! HTSH! Huhhh...hnnNETSSHH-ue! ETSZHUE! NGTSHH-ue! Huhh…!” Greyson stood in pre-sneeze torture for a moment or two, then huffed out a shaky breath when it was clear he’d lost it. He turned towards the office, where Elijah had an eyebrow cocked in bemusement; his boss let out a low whistle and stood to greet the chef.

“Wow,” he said, placing a firm hand on Greyson’s shoulder. “That deserved an Emmy.”

Greyson shot him a watery glare, coughed lightly into the back of his hand, and turned towards his cooks, waving to get their attention.

“PSA, guys, Collin and I broke up so do mbe a favor and just erase him completely from your mbemories. Let’s all act like he ndever existed, alright?”

The cooks nodded, too confused to say anything in retaliation. Matt stepped out from behind the line where he was prepping to try and console his boss, but Greyson just turned and sneezed, hard, into his sleeve, bursting the dam of congestion that had built up in his head.

“Fugck,” Greyson swore, staying tucked into the arm of his sweatshirt. He waved Matt away, ignored Elijah’s concerned face, and hoofed it to the employee bathroom, where he cleaned himself up as well as he could without throwing the whole stupid jacket away. Greyson regarded himself in the mirror afterwards – eyes red-rimmed from either the sob-fest this morning with Collin or the bitch of a cold his now-ex had so lovingly passed on; nose twitching with the insatiable desire to sneeze; mouth open slightly to allow him to breathe – and suddenly remembered the phrase he’d been searching for this morning.

Murphy’s law, he thought, sniffling, whatever can go wrong – will.

“HRRSHHH-ue!”

***

“You’re… I mbean, you’re shitting mbe, right? Like, is this an April Fool’s joke or something?”

Greyson hadn’t realized he was wringing his hands until Collin had grabbed and held them gently in his own. Suddenly recognizing it was going to be their last hand-hold, Greyson snatched his back and checked his watch; it was 8:53AM. He had to be on the train in ten minutes. No way in hell was Collin doing this now.

“Baby,” Collin said, his voice oozing a false-sympathy that Greyson had seen him give clients and stray dogs but never assumed he would be in the path of, “I’m so sorry. I just… I couldn’t wait until tonight to do this. It would be worse for both of us.”

Greyson gave his soon-to-be-ex a crazed look; it most certainly would not have been worse for him. It was a Saturday in late-March, their busiest season at the restaurant. Greyson had woken up with the monster of a cold that Collin had been sporting the week before, and he had barely hyped himself up for service, let alone getting broken up with before he’d even had his coffee.

“Beg to differ,” Greyson muttered, pulling a hand down his face. “Collin, I mbean… I just don’t understand. I felt like things were good, we’re combing up ond a year, I mbean I just moved in last mbonth, I really… realll – HNGSTHH-ue!” Greyson wrenched to the side to tuck himself into his elbow and sniffled pathetically. The timing of this whole thing was cinematic in its absurdity.

Collin tsk’d pityingly and handed Greyson a tissue that he had no choice but to accept. While he was blowing his nose, Collin hopped onto the counter with ease and crossed his legs.

“Baby,” he said again, prompting a cringe from Greyson, “I never wanted to hurt you. Truly. This is something I’ve been thinking about for awhile… I just didn’t know how to say it. I just don’t think we’re compatible, Greyson; I just… I don’t want to sound rude, honey, but I usually go for… I don’t know, a stronger man.” Collin fiddled with a string on his sweater as he spoke, yanking it ferociously on hitting the word ‘stronger’. Greyson felt like he’d ripped out his throat along with it.

“What… what do you mbean, stronger?” Greyson asked, crumbling the tissue into his fist and setting his jaw so as not to cry. “Collin, I run five mbiles a day. I operate a million-dollar-a-year kitchend in Ndew York City, and I work eighty hours a week. How mbuch stronger do you ndeed someone to be?” Greyson sniffled as he finished his thought, and swallowed painfully while Collin sighed.

“Greyson, you know what I mean,” Collin said, exasperated. “I need someone big, someone who I know can take a punch. You have stamina, but you’re not my usual type and I don’t think you ever will be. I’ve been waiting to see if you became that person, but I mean… look at you.” Collin gestured to Greyson’s entire being, as though his mere presence had suddenly become a disappointment. “You have a stuffy nose, Greyson, like a little kid. I find it difficult to see a big, tough man behind that exterior.”

Greyson blanched at this. “I have a cold, Collind, a cold that you gave mbe no less. You’re telling mbe you’re breaking up with me because you gave mbe a cold?”

Collin just shrugged, nonplussed. “It isn’t the cold,” he said, pushing himself back off the counter. “It’s the fact that everything about you is dramatic. You just aren’t my kind of guy, Greyson; I thought you were, but I was wrong. I need a man.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly and gave Greyson another once over before punctuating his thought. “A real man.”

A long silence settled over the two of them, only broken by Greyson’s phone beeping with a text from Elijah. So this is it, he thought, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“I’ll get mby things after work,” he mumbled, casting his gaze downward.

Collin nodded. “I’ll pack them up and leave a box at the door,” he said. The two of them made eye contact for what Greyson assumed would be the last time. He nodded, slung his backpack over a shoulder, and headed for the door. He opened it, looked back into the apartment, and regarded Collin one last time.

“Good luck finding your man,” Greyson said, and slammed the door behind him without awaiting a response.

***

Elijah had given up on trying to get Greyson to talk about his feelings; he’d given up on asking what had happened, or if he was okay, or if he needed somewhere to stay that night. But there was one thing he was refusing to give up on.

“You need to take something, Grey. Seriously, you’re going to infect the entire staff if you don’t.”

Greyson looked up from his prep station at his boss blearily and shook his head. “I’mb ndot sigck,” he said, voice straining over the words and dissolving into a coughing fit immediately after. Elijah turned his head to look into a pretend camera, The Office-style, while Greyson finished his coughing fit.

“Am I on Punk’d right now?” Elijah asked, pushing the full paper cup of tea he’d brought the chef hours ago towards him. “You realize you sound like you just stepped out of a Mucinex commercial, right? And I mean the ‘before’ part when the mucus monster is partying in some poor bastard’s lungs.”

The chef huffed out a little laugh before sucking in through his nose and collapsing once again into a painful-sounding coughing fit. He grabbed the cup – finally – and took a sip, regarding Elijah with red-rimmed eyes. “Allergies. Or sombething. I’mb okay.”

Elijah groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. “Look, Grey, I’m really sorry about you and Collin, and I’m sure you’re going through it hard, but this deny-til-you-die thing doesn’t really work when you can barely speak for being so sick,” he said, attempting to make eye contact with the chef who was actively avoiding his gaze. “Will you please just take some dayquil? For me?”

Greyson sighed and pressed a palm into one of his eyes. He coughed again, a miserable and drawn-out fit that made Elijah touch his own throat in sympathy, and finally nodded. “Finde,” he muttered. “Whatever. Yes, just… just leave mbe alone, okay?”

Elijah drew back, but nodded all the same. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll go get it and, uh… leave you be.”

They both kept good on their promises; Greyson ruefully tossed back the medicine, and Elijah slunk off to the dining room to help the servers set up for service. They avoided each other through the morning and most of the afternoon; Greyson prepping harder than any of his cooks had ever been able to, sneezing and coughing away from the food every few minutes, and Elijah grimacing at every sound that echoed off the kitchen walls and into the office. The GM didn’t dare head back to the prep kitchen until four-thirty, moments before pre-shift was about to begin.

“Chef,” he said, knocking on the wall as though it were an open door, “you ready for pre- ?”

Greyson, clearly unaware that his boss had entered the back kitchen, doubled over to sneeze the moment Elijah began speaking. “HRRSHHH-ue! Fuck – hhhNGSTHHZUE! Huhh…! Hhh… fuckin - ”

“Bless y-”

“HUHHESTSZHH-ooo!”

Greyson managed a glazed-over glance at his boss from the pit of his elbow, and nodded a thanks as Elijah handed him a box of tissues. “Bless you,” Elijah said again, and Greyson rolled his eyes from behind the tissue.

“Thangks,” he said, wiping his nose.

“You ready for pre-shift?” Elijah asked, crossing his arms and giving Greyson a once-over. “Because you look more like you’re ready for a nap.”

“Dond’t kndow what you mbean,” Greyson croaked, coughing into his fist. “I feel ambazing. Like I could run a mbarathon. HTSHHH-uhh!” He wrenched to the side again to sneeze, then righted himself and gave his boss a smile.

“Dude, please don’t smile like that. It’s… off-putting. Worrying, even,” Elijah said, grimacing. “C’mon. Let’s go get this shift over with.”

***

The shift was shit.

The cold was one thing; Greyson had worked sick before, much sicker than he was now, and he always knew he could make it through. In fact, the hustle and bustle of a busy shift generally made him temporarily forget whatever illness he was combating in order to focus on getting everything out on time and looking perfect. Working with a cold was something Greyson was used to after all his years in kitchens. Working while heartbroken was something completely new to him.

For some reason – he assumed it was because he was god’s least favorite – the gravity of the breakup hit Greyson like a ton of bricks the moment the first ticket printed. He was fine one moment, with the exception of the near-constant volley of coughs and sneezes, and the next he was on the verge of a sob, nearly unable to speak for the lump in his throat.

He was able to play it off as the cold worsening, and Matt ended up switching him spots and expoing while Greyson ran the inside line, but Greyson genuinely had never wanted to run off the line as badly as he did that evening. The weight of this breakup – a breakup from what was by far his longest relationship – nearly suffocated him, and the heat of the line and congestion were doing nothing to help. By the time ten pm rolled around, Greyson thought he may be legitimately dying.

Once the tickets slowed to one every twenty minutes or so, Greyson gave Matt a look that said I have to get off this line, to which his sous chef nodded and didn’t ask questions. The chef ducked away from his spot on the line, yanked off his apron, and near-ran to the back alley, gasping for breath the entire way.

The theatrics of his escape clearly alerted his boss, though, and while Greyson was trying to catch his breath between sobs and coughs, Elijah opened the back doors. “Oh, shit. Oh, Greyson.”

“Can’t… breathe…” Greyson managed, a hand held firmly on his retracting chest and a look of panic obvious on his face. Elijah sprang into action; he found a paper bag for Greyson to breathe into, instructed him to breathe deeply, pushed sweat-soaked hair off his fever-warm face and spoke in a low, calming voice until the chef had finally gotten his breathing back to semi-normal.

“You good?” Elijah asked after a few minutes of post-panic-attack silence. Greyson nodded and coughed into his sleeve.

“Thangk you,” he said, his voice crackling. Elijah nodded.

“Wanna go get hammered?” Elijah asked after another pause. Greyson snorted out a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, “that sounds ambazing.”

***

“Two Basil Hayden’s, please. Doubles. Neat.”

The dive down the road from the restaurant was bustling, but Greyson and Elijah were regulars and received their generous pours in their usual seats before the couple next to them even had a chance to flag the bartender down. Elijah raised his glass in a mock-cheers and Greyson rolled his eyes before swallowing half the drink in one gulp.

“Easy there, kid. Something tells me cough syrup and alcohol aren’t the best combination of drugs on an empty stomach,” Elijah said, signaling the bartender that they needed some menus.

Greyson shrugged and downed the rest of the glass. “If it kills mbe, it kills mbe,” he said, pushing the glass away from him and raising an arm in anticipation. “HhhNGTSHH-ue!”

“Bless,” Elijah said, nodding at the bartender who placed two menus in front of them. “Pick something to eat,” he motioned towards the menu, then lifted his gaze to make eye contact with his friend, “and tell me exactly what the fuck happened with Collin.”

Greyson bit the inside of his cheek to keep the waterworks from starting up again. “It’s a long story, Lij,” he said, his voice low and eyes downcast. Elijah stayed silent, as if to say I have time. Greyson sighed. “The long and short of it is, I don’t lift weights, I cand’t take a punch, and he gave mbe a cold.”

Elijah sat silent a moment longer, clearly waiting for some sort of punchline. “He gave you a cold… so he had to break up with you?” he asked, taking a slow sip of his drink. “I’m not following.”

Greyson rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, desperately wishing he hadn’t already finished his drink. “He said I’mb too weak,” Greyson muttered, outlining the coaster with his finger. “He wants to date a real mban. Someone strong.” The tears began to well in the chef’s eyes once again, so he shrugged and covered up the lump in his throat with a cough. This is so fucking stupid, he thought to himself, but instead of echoing the sentiment, Elijah pulled him in for a sudden hug.

“Not lifting weights doesn’t make you weak. Not wanting to punch someone doesn’t make you weak,” Elijah said, pulling back and looking his friend in the eye. “Having a cold, Grey, doesn’t make you weak. You’re human. You’re a good person. Collin is a dick; he doesn’t even know what he’s losing.” Elijah squeezed his shoulder, maintaining an eye contact that would’ve been terrifying from anyone who wasn’t him.

Greyson bit his cheek, pushed the fallen tears off his face, and attempted a smile. “Thank you, Lij,” he said, his voice cracking. Elijah chuckled.

“Anytime,” he said, flagging down the bartender again and motioning to Greyson’s empty glass. “Another?”

Greyson nodded. “Gonna ndeed at least a dozen to get this fuckigg day out of mby head,” he said. Elijah laughed in earnest this time, and ordered their drinks and some food.

“So,” Elijah said, “where are you staying til you find an apartment?”

“Is that a real questiond?” Greyson asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “I figured mby spot on your couch was as good as secure – HNGTSHHH-ue!” Greyson winced and grabbed for a cocktail napkin, cleaning himself up while Elijah cringed.

“Buddy,” Elijah said as their second round was placed in front of them, “with that monster of a cold, I’ll let you take the fuckin’ bed.”

Greyson coughed out a laugh, flipped his boss the bird, and knocked back his drink once again. Elijah followed his lead and signaled the bartender once again while Greyson bullied a coughing fit into submission.

“Keep ’em coming,” Elijah called to the bartender. “It’s gonna be a long fuckin’ night.”

[alexiskk]

the prompt with the guitar soemone sent in was adorable - i have another? maybe joel and ellie are playing boggle and ellie is winning by far and bragging and then eventually joel sees the word 'tickle' and ellie gets all nervous and he tickles her as revenge for winning ?

ANON THIS PROMPT IS EVERYTHING TO ME. i had sm fun with it and as always i get very carried away, pretty sure this is my longest fic yet lol

ALSO i literally had to look up the rules of Boggle bc I had never played so if you haven’t either I would maybe watch like a minute tutorial vid on yt just so you get the premise.

here is the one i watched!

https://youtu.be/BJAdXnGAb7k

that’s it enjoy🫶🫶🫶

tw: very mild underage drinking, swearing, lots of sarcasm and fluff

AGAIN I only write Ellie and Joel as a father-daughter relationship, no one be weird or ill punch u

Feelin’ like a Winner Yet?

“Tommy what the hell you have to stay for one more game!”

“Kid, I gotta get goin’ ”

“Ehem Stick in the mud ehm-ehem”

Joel held his fist up to his face and gruffled out a not so subtle cough as he shot his brother side eyes followed by a smug look on his face.

Tommy playfully shoved Joel in his shoulder as he stood up.

“You sir, are the real fuckin’ stick in the mud, and you,-” He raised his eyebrows and pointed at Ellie who was sat criss-cross applesauce across the table from the brothers.

“-you just wanna beat my ass again”

Thursday nights were the best in the Miller house. Often the only night both Tommy and Joel weren’t patrolling and no movie night until tomorrow for Ellie and her friends she’d made in Jackson, so the trio often gathered in the cozy downstairs living room of Joel’s house. The fireplace tucked away in the corner provided warmth throughout the floorboards where we would find the three sat upon surrounding a small coffee table. It also provided the homily cedar smell that lingered throughout the house that Ellie was always quiet fond of, it reminded her of nights camping in the woods with a certain someone. But tonight their was no camping for Ellie, only war against the two brothers in a Miller family classic-Boggle. Ever since Joel picked it up in Salt Lake City on their trek across the US, It had been a game he routinely pulled out whenever Ellie needed reassurance that she was better than Joel at something. Not to mention it it most often ended in laughter filled fights over all the words Joel cheated with. With no surprise, Ellie had dominated 6 out of the last 7 rounds they played tonight by a landslide, only to tie with Tommy in the first, mentioning that she was “just warming up”. But now, her only somewhat worthy competitor was walking out the front door, and she was doing everything in her power to keep from the rest of Boggle night being a snooze fest.

“If you stay i’d let you win!” Ellie pleaded sarcastically.

“Well im stayin’ why don’t you let me win”

“Shut upppp” The whine in her voice was evident as ever as she shot a look to Joel that meant exactly what she had said.

Tommy barked out an entertained scoff at the duo bickering as he slipped on his jacket that was hung on the coat rack by the door.

“Maria needs help with the baby El, you know how much I would love to stay and watch you kick that old man’s ass—again” He threw up apologetic arms.

“If you stay around much longer your ass might get more than just a kickin Tom”

“Anndddd that’s my cue, good luck kid, adios big brother” And with that, Tommy slipped out the front door into the freezing cold of night and headed off towards his and Maria’s house.

Joel leaded his back against the couch he was sat on the floor in front of. He picked up his beer bottle from the table and stared down into it as he swished the remaining liquid around the bottom of the bottle.

“Anddd then there were two” He took a pull from the bottle as he kept his eyes focused on Ellie across the table, who happened to be watching him emphatically.

She drew her eyes to her fingers which were tracing the grain of the dark wooden floorboards, eventually trailing her gaze to the half finished case tucked away on the side of the couch.

“So can I-”

“No” Joel’s stare hardened, this wasn’t the first time she’d asked and it sure wouldn’t be the last.

“One sip?” Ellie threw up her eyebrows as a cheeky little grin crept up on her. She had this man in her back pocket.

He mulled it over in his head for a few seconds while staring up at the ceiling. It always felt like their was no winning with her, in Boggle or argument.

“—Fine”

Ellie sniffed as tried to stifle her growing grin as she caught the bottle as it slid across towards her. What did I say, in her back pocket.

She took a pull of her own with Joel’s judgey stare searing into her but she didn’t care and made it last until she couldn’t fill her mouth any longer. She swallowed hard and grimaced but with the bottle still in hand shot eyes over at Joel, a classic myestvious grin appearing on her face.

“Elliee-Ellie no!”

Joel leaned across the table to snatch it from her hands but it was too late, she had leaned away in time to tip the bottle back and finish off the last of it, taking breaks with each gulp to manage the taste of the foul liquid. Cheeky bastard.

Joel just slumped his elbows onto the the table in defeat.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you”

“Hey, just think, you’ll have a better chance of beating me now-hic”

Her last word got caught in a hiccup from the chug as she slid the empty bottle back to him which he caught and placed with the others.

“Shall we?” Ellie made a grand gesture at the game sprawled on the coffee table.

Joel sighed and rubbed his temples.

“How many more?”

“10 rounds like always,, 3 more if your too old to do the math”

Ellie shook the board as she spoke while Joel rolled his eyes and very lazily grabbed the notebook and ripped two pieces of paper out for them.

“Annnnnnddddddd…..” Ellie held her hand over the cover in anticipation.

“Go!”

She removed it swiftly as Joel flipped the timer and the pair began studying the board.

Ellie pick up her pen immediately and began scribbling down words, Joel taking a few more seconds before following her. He always pretended to look over at Ellie’s words so she quickly put up a hand barrier to block his view.

“Asshat” Joel mumbled, directing his focus back to his own list.

“Says you”

The bickering was non-stop throughout the round until about the last 30 seconds, where both sides became frantic in the search for their final words to connect.

“Times up!” Ellie blurted out as she dropped her pen and began swatting at Joel to stop writing.

Joel swatted back as he finished writing a few last letters. Jesus he needed to practice at this game.

“Welllll how’d ya doooo?” She sat with her list held in her hands.

Ellie was smug as ever this round, with no Tommy there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she didn’t win, so she obviously needed to rub it in Joel’s face as much as possible.

“Don’t patronize me girl” His southern drawl was ever present.

“Fine, I’ll go first then”

She began listing off her words, stopping to cross one off whenever Joel blurted out a mumbled “mine”, to which they would both scribble out the word with their pens. Ellie was quiet surprised with the first 5 out of 8 words they matched on.

“Since when’d you get so smartttt?” Ellie shot him a smiley smug look.

“Don’t push it” Joel paid her no attention and kept his eyes on his list.

But, as Ellie went further down her list, the call outs from Joel became far more seldom, leading her to finish with a whopping 63 points. It was lower than her previous rounds, but her brain function seemed to be slowing down with the night growing later and the alcohol settling into her system.

Ellie twiddled the pen in her hands.

“Soooo you don’t even need to read yours I definitely won right? We can save you the embarrassment.” Ellie reached across the table and went to grab his list when Joel snatched off the surface.

“Uhhh no, not how it works, I could still kick your ass with my crazy good words.” Joel held the list up to the light and put on an imaginary pair of glasses as he squinted up and down at his list.

“Yeahhhhh these look like winners to me alright, buckle up for failure kid”

When in the right mood, Joel loved playing Ellie’s silly antics with her, especially with his brother now gone home he could bring out some of that vulnerability that Ellie always dug out of him one way or another.

“Alright alright start readin’ ya cheater” Ellie crossed her arms she was already for the slew of imaginary words that were headed her way.

To her surprise, Joel started mumbling out more words than he had said all night during this game. After the fourth consecutive actual word, Ellie scurried to her feet and sat over on her knees next to Joel peering over his shoulder as he read to make sure we wasn’t making shit up on the spot.

“Pool”

“Pools”

“Dool”

Ellie flicked him in the back of the head.

“Fix it”

Joel shot her eyes and leaned over to grab the pen from the table.

“can’t even get away with one goddamn word” Joel sarcastically mumbled under his breath as he scribbled out the word.

He went further down his list until he reached the end when he paused and looked back at Ellie once again.

“ I mighta beat ur ass huh?” A menacing grin appeared on Joel’s face as he shook the shoulder she was leaned up on.

“Just count the goddamn points” Ellie was getting a bit frustrated, Joel hadn’t even come close all night, but now he comes outta left field with all of these words? She stared at Joel as he counted up his score, watching to make sure he didn’t try to pull a fast one on her.

Ellie could feel the tension in Joel’s body as she leaned up against him. If the Millers were anything, they were competitive as hell.

All at once, Ellie felt the tension drop in his body as his shoulders slumped forward whilst writing in his final score.

“Awh shit”

Joel threw his pen across the room as he leaned back onto the couch hard. He had a gruff look on his face and turned his head away from Ellie, who had leaned forward to see that his final score had come 2 points shy of hers.

A grin so big she had to bite her bottom lip to keep if from growing couldn’t help but plaster across Ellie’s face as she stared down at the paper.

“Well well well Old man Miller. You talk a lottttt of shit for someone who just lost to a fourteen year old-again.”

Ellie was pulling herself to her feet as she bragged down to Joel who was trying very hard to ignore her, dawning only an angered deadpan stare at the Boggle board in front of him as she spoke.

“I declare, that on this divine night we dub me, thy champion of the Boggle!” Ellie put one foot up on the couch as she shook both her fists wildly in the air. The voice she had taken up reassembled that of a 17 century herald announcing the arrive of a king.

“Now, I see it only fit that thy loser must announce my trrrrriumphant title, as he was indeed, the smartest of asses and therefore-”

“shHHITT”

Joel exclaimed and threw his hands in the air before violently smacking his head with his palm and resting his fingers on his temples.

“What the fuck was that for?…motherfuckin sore loser” Ellie a bit irritated that her celebration was interrupted so quickly, she took her foot off the couch and slowly sat back down, puzzled as to what set Joel off so quickly.

Joel took his head out of his hands and shot her a look of irritated regret. He looked back at the board before pointing down at it.

“ I coulda’ fuckin’ spelt tickle”

Ellie looked over at the board as Joel spoke but when he finished his sentence she didn’t think she could move her body a single inch. She froze and involventarily gulped with her wide eyes glued to the outline of the word Joel had just uttered on Boggle board. She knew if she sat there much longer staring Joel would think something’s off, but there was not a single coherent thought floating in her head at that moment. Somehow with a simple word she had been shut down within seconds. So, she finally mustered up the courage to sit back, where she immediately looked down at the floor and began twiddling her fingers.

“Ahh..yep”

Jesus Ellie really? That’s it? Yep?

Ellie shook her head at her own ridiculously suspicious answer, luckily for her, Joel was in a whole other world, eyes still fixated on the board. He scoffed, absolutely infuriated that he hadn’t seen such an obvious word sooner. He sat back up and started tracing over more new words on the board with his right index.

“Shittt and tickles..and tickled..and-”

“Ok y-yeah we got it”

Everytime he said it Ellie could feel her entire body involuntary cringe. You could hear the shakiness in her voice underneath the irritated tone while she picked at the dirt aggressively from underneath her fingernails, never daring to look up at Joel, who’s attention and glare she could now feel on her due to the interruption.

Joel knew Ellie at this point, maybe sometimes more than she knew herself, and if there was one fact about her that he knew to be true, it’s that she was never shy. especially not with him.

“What’s with you? Seems like you were all hunky dory unti-” Joel cut himself off and stuck his tongue in the bottom of right cheek as his thoughts interrupted him. After a few seconds, his confused expression softened and developed hints at a devious smirk.

“Oh”

He pursed his lips and looked down at the floor as well, almost embarrassed at the knowledge he just acquired. buttttt unfortunately for Ellie, not embarrassed enough.

shit

Ellie stopped and looked up at him when silence filled the air, eyebrows furrowed but she didn’t dare say anything, she just waited. just waited and prepared to run.

Joel sat staring at the floor for a few more seconds when he finally broke the silence.

“Ya know kid,, you have done quite the job wininn’ tonight.”

His gruff nature made it seem like everything he said was truth, but Ellie could hear his familiar sarcasm laced within his words. Her eyes seared into him, meanwhile Joel was simply tracing the designs in the side of the couch.

This was all just a joke to him.

“I feel like I owe you some sort of compensation…whatayouthink?”

Joel finally looked up with the most shit eating grin you could imagine whilst Ellie’s cheeks began filling up with color out of embarrassment.

She was taking no chances. She scurried to her feet and bolted across the room looking for an escape down one of the hallways so that she could climb out a window run to Tommy’s and then-

Shlump

Without even making it halfway across the room, Ellie sealed her own fate. She slipped on the shag rug that sat by the fireplace and had now made friends with the floor.

Unfortunately someone not so friendly was headed her way.

Ellie attempted to return to her escape plan but Joel had jumped up and stomped his way over to her, he now looked down at the girl with one of her ankles in his grasp.

“Graceful”

Joel smirked as he mocked her while she flipped herself over to be facing upwards.

“Shut up”

“You aren’t quite in the position to be making demands El’. In fact you’ve been talkin’ a bittt to much for my likin’. Especially when you got a big secret like that.”

Ellie braced herself for what was coming although she couldn’t help but show her nerves as she twitched aggressively against Joel’s grasp.

“Don’t be an asshole please” nervousness once again settled in her usually snarky demeanor.

“Ehh no promises kid”

With that, Joel dropped her ankle to the floor and dove in with both hands, latching them around her torso. He began digging into the soft spots of her sides with his thumbs while his fingers danced on the backside and let’s just say Ellies composure didn’t last long.

“okokOkHOHOEHEheaoKk JOEHEHEEL” bubbly giggles erupted in the teen causing her to sway side to side across the warm floorboards. The electric ticklish shocks being sent through her body dumbfounded her, causing her to twitch and jerk consistently. She pushed down at Joel’s big calloused hands that was bunching up her t-shirt at the seams but there was no use, the lack of strength from being rendered into a pile a of giggles mixed with Joel’s determination for the task and strength was an impossible combo to beat. She threw her head from side to side as if she was trying to forget about Joel’s rhythmic squeezes that had made their way up to her ribs, but this too had no promising results other than putting a bigger smile onto Joel’s face. He briefly paused his torture but didn’t let up his grasp.

“Feelin’ like a winner yet?”

“Johoheoelllll weHE-we can TAahlk abohout tHiISI-AHAHHAH”

Unbeknownst to Ellie, Joel has pulled her t-shirt up so that it lay on her ribs so that he could bear down and give her the most brutal raspberry’s one had ever seen.

While Joel will admit he is quite shit when it comes to Boggle, this was one game he knew very well. Sarah was always the ornery type with her father, so while Joel hadn’t always been an expert at physical connection, he had plenty of practice at this game, enough to be able to drive Ellie insane.

Anything that Ellie had been holding back up until this point was out the window as Joel’s prickly scruff combined with the eruption of the raspberry on her stomach drove her to madness. Loud laughter and giggles poured out of her as her thrashing became more violent. Joel then pulled her shirt back down and grabbed her flailing arms and held them pinned to the floor at her side.

“JOHAOAHEL AM I FUFHUCKING TEHEEN” Ellie yelled, embarrassed by her flushed red face and post-attack giggles still flowing out of her as she looked up at Joel in anger.

“Nohot cool” She continued to squirm but there was no use, she was still completely stuck.

“N-Noho, what’s not cool is you thinkin’ your all that an a bag of chips for winnin’ ” Joel looked down at her trying to cover up his amusement with her struggles.

“Ever heard of uhhh bragging rights? ohhhh waittttttt you’ve never fucking won so I guess not ” A slightly angered but smug look dawned on her as she sarcastically sassed Joel directly to his face.

Another thing about Ellie that Joel knew was she never knew when to stop pushing, and right now was the not the time or place for her to flaunt her cockiness.

“Huh, so you just wanna get tickled is that it?”

Joel’s nonchalant tone and distracted gaze was met with tension in Ellie’s body at his utterance of that word. She reallly needed to learn to quit whilst she’s ahead.

“You see, cause I think yo-”

Joel’s far gaze was met with something, interesting. To his surprise, laying a few feet to the left of him and Ellie was the black pen he had launched earlier in frustration at his loss. Ellie turned to see the pen as well, but couldn’t quite put the pieces together. Meanwhile Joel’s gears were turning and already ready to put a final revenge attack in motion.

“Welllll since you seem to be so obsessed with titles tonight”

“Joel wha—AC HEY!”

Joel swiftly dropped the grasp on her arms, reached over to grab the pen whilst swinging an arm around to entrap her ankles in his grasp. Like I said, he’s had some practice at this.

“Let’s give you an official one hm?”

Joel removed one of her tattered socks and uncapped the pen with his teeth.

Ellie up until this point had genuinely been confused, but now panic was beginning to set in as she felt the harsh tip of the pen meet the top of the sole of her foot.

“noOH I dOHnT NEHeD it JOEL”

She tried to sit up and push him away whilst squirming her foot, but during her retaliation, Joel saw the resistance and scribbled harshly on the middle of her sole to combat her.

Ellie screamed in response falling back onto the floor and burying her face into her hands at the devilish sensation etched upon her foot. Joel seised the scribble fairly quickly seeing her response and looked back at her.

“Now hold still or this will take longer”

Ellie paused and went to lean back up, but knowing Joel and his word, she leaned back down and braced herself for the sensation.

To her surprise, the process wasn’t quite as torturous as she had expected. While a trail of giggles and “nohoho’s” did seem to escape her when Joel insisted the letters need to be colored in, plus a few complaints from Joel when Ellie couldn’t sit still for the letter positioned in the center of her sole, other than that it was a few minutes of smiley recovery and pure artistry for the pair.

Joel finally threw the pen to the ground and released her ankles from his grasp.

“Now we can show Tommy who won”

Ellie sat up and grabbed her foot to turn it around and look at Joel’s hard work.

“You motherfucker”

Ellie scoffed as she shoved Joel in the shoulder at the results on her sole.

W

I

N

N

E

R

joel miller

the bend of her heel read the old man’s name in the tiniest, scragglyist font imaginable.

“Surprise”

Joel threw up his hands in amusement while Ellie was now doing her best to rub off the very permanent reminder of tonight’s events.

Ellie sighed.

“He’s never gonna believe you beat me at Boggle”

“Who said anything about Boggle?”

[chaithetics]

Absolutely adored the Late Night Mends work. Thank you!! Would you consider writing more monkey man kid x reader - maybe something where he praises and talks the reader through it, starting gentle and then figuring out he can be rougher because reader likes it that way. He would start out wincing through the pain caused by his fighting, but eventually forget about that. Praise/dominance part inspired by him saying "good girl, do you like that?" to the dog in the film.

Hey Nonnie! I'm glad you adored Late Night Mends! I'm blown away at how many people that fic has reached especially in such a short time.

Now this is an awkward one, I will be honest, after logging on a few days ago and seeing a Monkey Man fic on my feed with the exact same ask - EXACT wording minus the Late Night Mends mention lol - I did laugh because it's quite silly but I also felt a bit baffled. I'll admit that I am a sensitive person so maybe this in the context of other anons feels more rude to me than what it really is. I'm still going to talk about it though because I think my feelings are valid. I wasn't going to reply to this ask after that but I think this needs to be said.

It's going to be a ramble! Bear with me! For anyone who does I will give you a hug if you wish!

Writers are sooooooo underappreciated on this app and it feels like every time a writer starts to get a platform they post that they're thinking of deleting Tumblr, they're begging for engagement or talking about a really negative experience with expectations or their inbox.

If writers have their inboxes open and say that they're open for requests and you have a request idea, totally send in requests! 🥰 It's part of what it's there for! But please don't send the exact same request (especially word for word) to more than one writer! I can't speak for everyone but requests pile up quickly and fics take time. I personally can go through big hiatuses due to my health where I don't write or post any fics for months, in a good period I can write and post a fic weekly (since April I've posted 7 fics). Which is a somewhat common regularity, I know that there's some writers who post more or less frequently than that- that's just up to each writer depending on their circumstances. Each timeframe/schedule whether less or more is completely valid or understandable.

I take my time with fics, it is unlikely that if you send a request I will have it posted within a few days (unless I have the pressure of something like fics for Palestine lol). I spend time thinking about the prompt, jotting ideas and then writing, I'd say I spend 6ish+ hours on most of my fics. Most writers are also balancing work and/or study, along with social lives and other personal things like families, health etc. I work and have a lot of health stuff going on.

So I know that it can be easy to feel impatient with fic requests as you can read a fic in five minutes but it takes a lot longer to write it. I don't do much editing which you might've noticed lol, but plotting and editing take time too. And writers fit this in when they can. Around their lives. Art and fics take time, they do!ch I'm not sure what happened here, you sent this a few weeks ago and so I'm not sure if you copied and pasted this and sent this to numerous writers or if you sent it to one of us and we didn't reply quick enough so you sent it to another. I'm going to guess the former because of the wording? But everyone's time matters and this feels a bit disrespectful of the time of writers. You don't know if I'd started this fic, or if I had it ten minutes away from posting before I saw the fic by the other amazing writer. Or I could've finished and posted a fic before another writer did and they didn't see it and spent their time on finishing your request and posting it. If you have two writers writing the same prompt for something this specific, it seems unfair to someone who might've sent a prompt to just one writer and they will then miss out or have to wait longer for their fic because of this. I feel really guilty about how long it takes me to write fics and how long it sometimes tames me to write requests but I now feel like I've wasted a bit of my time on this idea, and it's time that could've been devoted to another request. I wouldn't want to finish this idea because I wouldn't want to be accused of copying the other writer because of the exact same prompt wording and potentially any similarities there could've been in the fics.

If you send a request to someone and want to follow up. You can message or send another ask to a writer, asking if they got your request, are they comfortable with it and do they know when they might get it out. Please do that instead of sending the exact same request to multiple writers (especially if it's super specific lol) or sending it to another writer because it hasn't been posted within a few weeks.

I don't know if this all made sense and I'm sorry for how long this was, please forgive me Tumblr besties! 🫶

A very tired and migraine-burdened writer signing off with lots of love💞

[yakuzacanons]

I love the sunshine x grumpy trope in fiction. I also love the friends to lovers trope. Let's mix them! I've had this idea in the back of my mind for a while so lemme cook.

Imagine a young Ryuji being friends with the reader, the only person to not be scared of him because of his dad being Yakuza and who is generally a very friendly and optimistic person all around. They always got each other's backs, reader doing their best to cheer him up when he's down and his old man's giving him shit, Ryuji actually being able to open up about his mom to someone for once!

Eventually they grow up and realize that omg! They have feelings for each other! :O I wonder how they'll go about confessing and getting together, Ryuji being worried about dragging them into this dangerous lifestyle he was born into and reader being all like "(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) you're stuck with me boo"

ahhh prompts for my sweetie Ryuji, on it bosssss. Using the confession line I wrote for him in my confessions headcanon post babeyyy. Headcanons below da cut, mwah sweet anon.

Ryuji always struggled with making friends, even at a very young age. Even before he was old enough to understand what his dad did for a living or that he was an orphan, he just felt really alienated. He noticed he was treated differently than most other kids, which only made other kids avoid him, which only made him feel worse. By the time he hit elementary school, he just decided it was better to be a loner.

He liked to pretend it was his choice and that he was special, but deep down he was jealous of other kids: their parents walking them lovingly to school, playing in parks after school with friends, passing notes in class all while giggling under their breath. Meanwhile, Ryuji was arriving to school in a private car, surrounded by bodyguards whenever he wasn't at school. Hell, even his school lunches looked different from everyone else's. So he just kept to himself, harumphing and scoffing his way through school hallways.

Imagine his surprise when one day at recess you appeared in front of him. He hadn't even noticed the ball the other kids were playing with had rolled away and over to him. The others must've been too intimidated to come get it themselves so they sent you, the big-hearted and always smiling popular kid, to get it. What surprised him more was when you ASKED him to hand you the ball instead of just sweeping it up into your arms and jogging away quickly.

He could've sworn he was dreaming when he handed you the ball and you flashed your smile, asking if he wanted to come play. Ryuji? Being invited to play? Maybe dreams DO come true. Either way, the two of you became inseparable friends from that day on.

Everyone, kids and adults alike, didn't get it. You were so normal and nice and Ryuji was the son of the leader of the Omi Alliance. Not that you minded any of that; to you Ryuji was just another kid, just like you. Through the years, Ryuji found himself hanging out at your house after school to escape his dad prodding him with questions about school. If you ever got picked on at school, Ryuji was there in a flash, protecting you.

It remained this way until part of the way through high school. Ryuji's dad was starting to put Ryuji into a role that was more involved in the Omi Alliance and as a direct result, Ryuji was just less available. He was forced to grow up faster than most kids. While everyone else was worried about exams or where to go after high school, Ryuji was getting ready to inherit the Omi Alliance throne. Sure, you had his e-mail but even then he was so busy that you hardly heard from or saw him outside of school.

Still, the two of you hung onto the friendship as best as you could even after high school. Sometimes you'd go weeks without hearing from him, but you were always happy to see him. Truthfully, Ryuji was actually the happiest out of the two of you. You were his only friend growing up. Perhaps you still are his only friend. You're certainly the only person outside of the alliance he knows at all.

Now that the two of you had settled into your adult lives, most visits ended up with the two of you catching up at a café from time to time. This time, it was Ryuji's turn to surprise you when he texted you saying he was outside of your office just when quitting time rolled around. You rushed out and saw him standing there, smoking absentmindedly. His face lit up into that familiar smirk when he saw you and he sauntered up to you. When you asked what on earth he was doing, he shrugged and said "What, I can't sneak outta work to hang with my best friend?".

The years hadn't been kind to Ryuji. He had scars on his face and his eyes had grown menacing. Every detail, down to how he dressed to how he walked, conveyed who he was. But in front of you, he was still just some lost kid. You could see it in the way he smiled as the two of you knocked back drinks or the way he belted out without restraint at karaoke.

In fact, it was in that exact moment at karaoke when you looked up from your drink and saw him that you felt your heart stop for a moment. Was Ryuji always that tall? You didn't remember thinking his face was handsome before. The only thing that snapped you out of your trance was Ryuji asking what the heck you were staring at. You tried to deflect but your blushing gave it away. Thankfully, Ryuji didn't press further on the matter, but the thought lingered in his mind long after the two of you left the building.

Ryuji noticed the streets were crawling with more Omi Alliance men than when you had entered, so the two of you opted to retreat to a nearby rooftop so he could have a smoke. He knew they wouldn't look for him there but secretly it was also so he could confront you about what just happened. He catches you off guard as you sit on a bench on the rooftop, your eyes gazing off at the stars, the image of Ryuji smiling at you burning into your brain.

You pretended you didn't hear him the first time he asked what happened. It wasn't until he plopped down onto the bench next to you that you realized you weren't worming your way out of this one. You sit up properly only to meet Ryuji's gaze, steadfast and curious, as he says "Oi, I'm serious. What happened back there?". You sputter in response, your drunken self stumbling between excuses and just admitting it. Your blubbered mumbling makes Ryuji burst out in laughter.

You pout in response, saying something like "Hey, don't laugh at me!" to which Ryuji profusely apologizes while stifling laughter. Eventually, his laughter subsides and he shakes his head, his half smoked cigarette in hand. He takes a quick puff before slumping in his seat, uncharacteristically looking down at his shoes before you catch him mumbling "Why'd ya have to be so cute?..."

He realizes you totally heard him and he snaps up to look at you and this time it's your turn to laugh. He growls sarcastically and responds with "Oi, what happened to not laughing at each other!" before breaking out into laughter too. When the two of you calm down again, you half jokingly say "Seriously, what's up with us today?" still teetering between telling him the truth or keeping it to yourself.

Before you can even contemplate making a decision, Ryuji makes one for you. He turns to face you, his gaze tinged with sincerity and nervousness that you hadn't seen since the first time he ever looked at you, before he blurts out “I’m not sure what else to do at this point except tell ya: ya got me wrapped ‘round your finger. No matter what happens, ya have my heart. I’ll always be there. I promise.”

[actualbird]

Hi Zak!! This is a pretty random ask but i was just wondering if you have any tips for starting a fanfic/story? I just keep getting stuck on how to start one (I really love your work/blog 🙏 feeds my tot brain rot fr!!)

hi anon, im glad you like the stuff i make ;w; !!! and ohhh, sure i got tons of tips for that!.....so many that i actually wish i cld get u back here to ask what specifically about starting a story u'd want tips on but for now, i'll go for a general overview :D!!

cuz....to me (i.e. based on my writing process, which i'll be drawing heavily from for these tips), the act of Starting comes in three distinct steps, one after the other:

Idea Generation (what is the story gonna be about and how do i get ideas for that?)

Concept Organization/Outlining (how is the story going to be about this idea and how will i be executing it?)

Creation (GAH, HOW PUT WORDS ON PAGE!?!?!?)

so i'll give general tips for all three!!!

-

Idea Generation Tips

(this is the step that i personally have the least trouble with because my brain makes 5 new ideas every day. it's kinda a curse now because it leads to me having too many wips and concepts and only 1% of them gets to the Creation period jhvjhVJKSHFVHJS BUT ANYHOO, TIPS-)

Check Out Prompt Lists (super fun and easy way to get an idea! theres tons of story and fic prompts out there that you can search up here on tumblr, some of them being lists of lines of dialog or lists of AUs or scenarios. even if you dont follow a prompt exactly, they can be great at kickstarting ur brain into thinking of something related that you Do wanna pursue)

Open/Ask For Prompt Requests (if ur brain doesnt have any ideas, u can ask around and see if anyone ELSE has ideas theyre alright with you writing! my tot fics "reviews for Time's Antiquities, South Stellis | Average Rating: 4.8 Stars" and "but little do we know, the stars welcome him with open arms" were both inspired by anon asks i got!! to those anons who sent those asks, i owe u my life....but yea, maybe other people can give ideas to you! or, again, give Something that can inspire another thing in ur brain to take shape)

Just Ramble With A Friend (SO MANY OF MY FIC IDEAS started because i was just goofing off and playing idea volleyball with fandom buddies in our DMs (shoutout to sam samsspambox, z lukevonhagen, and beck beckthebeetle for being the main culprits of this). like, what started out as a joke conversation eventually makes go "oh no wait i actually wanna see that as a fic" and then boom, Idea Has Been Acquired. but fr, talking with another person makes your brain create things u never thought about before. it's both tons of fun to chat with a buddy as a sounding board, and it yields awesome concepts for stories!)

For Fanfic Specifically, Think About What You Want To See In Canon But Hasn't Happened And You Want It So Bad It's Driving You NUTS (this can be anything from missing scenes you wish were expanded on, scenes you wish went a different way, character relationships you wish you could see more of in canon, go nuts! the fun thing with fanfic is that it's a fertile playground for all the what-ifs, and a lot of my fics' ideas were simply found because i thought "man i know tears of themis is never gonna show me deep found fam moments/artem ptsd consequences after main story 6.2/mariluke, so imma make it myself" JHVSJDHF. ideas are hard to make sometimes, but brains are so good at desiring things. and all those desires? those can also be Ideas for a fic!)

-

Concept Organization/Outlining

(very much skippable if your writing style/personality is more receptive to free-wheeling!! im just the type of writer who always needs an outline to begin something. it helps me structure a raw idea with no shape into something clearer that i can envision a story for)

Outline A Rough Chain Of Events Chronologically (this can be as simple as three bullet points, what happens at the Start of the story, the Middle, and the End. or maybe you can go list down the portions of your fic according to the Freytag's Pyramid Plot Structure: Exposition, Inciting Incident, Rising Action, etc etc.)

Outline A Rough List Of Stuff You Just Want To Happen In The Fic (if your brain is like mine and isnt too great at chronological thinking, make a list of just all the plot points and events or even dialog exchanges u Want to see in the fic. you can organize it in the order u want later once uve put everything down)

Outline The Themes (moving away from plot, many stories are more focused on feelings or characterization or themes. so make a list of the Concepts you want to tackle. this is something i do for my fics that are more introspective, so i outline shit like "EVENT THAT MAKES LUKE INTERNALIZE SELF-LOATHING followed by EVENT THAT MAKES LUKE'S VIEW BE NOTICED BY ANOTHER CHARACTER")

-

Creation

(the worst part of writing....is the writing JAVFJVSDKHFDJHJ but nah fr this is the part i have the hardest time with, so here are tips that help me kickstart the word engine)

You Dont Have To Start Writing The Fic From The Beginning Of Its Story, Start Writing Wherever (confession: a good 75% of my fics are ones where the first scene i actually wrote down was not the start. instead, i just wrote the scene i was most excited to write. and usually thats somewhere in the middle! i do this cuz it makes my brain happy, and a happy brain is much easier to pull words from than a sad brain. plus, when i see the scene I Like Best already written, it gives me motivation to do the rest of the fic because oh my god i want everybody to sEE THIS ONE DANG SCENE!!! start writing the fic at whatever point you want, in whatever order comes most naturally to you, is my point. you can fill the rest in later, but hey, starting to write where you Want has gotten you Started. now you just gotta finish, and finishing when you already have something down is much easier than starting from 0)

Set Tiny Wordcount Goals. And When I Say Tiny, I MEAN TINY!!! (writing is intimidating but if you set a goal of say, 100 words written for a wip per day, at the end of one week, you'll have 700 words. at the end of two, you'll have 1400 words. at the end of a month, 3000. small goals help since it makes you do Something, and that Something will inevitably compound, no matter what goal uve set. and let urself be proud of the goals uve achieved!!! writer brain gets happy when you tell it it's done a good job at reaching a wordcount goal, and like i said earlier, happy brain is much easier to work with than sad brain)

Give Yourself All The Time You Need (i know this sounds counterproductive but sometimes....the best thing you can do for the part of your brain that wants to start creating....is waiting til it's ready. dont pressure yourself, cuz brain will get sad. dont be too hard on yourself, cuz brain will get sad. start when you want to start in the way that works best with your brain and see where things go, but be patient with yourself. sometims Starting is actually the longest part of writing a story and thats fine. it will happen. trust)

-

thats all the tips ive got! and of course, what will work for me wont always work for other people, so please feel free to take what you think applies to you and discard what doesnt resonate.

i hope some part of this can help! happy writing :D

[cmbdragon98]

Please tell us more about how your wife tricked you into dating her

So, setup, details all under cut, cuz it's a bit lengthy. Fun story though!

Tumblr circa 2015. Junior year of high school. I've convinced myself that dating is NOT for me, and that I should just wait until college to fuck around and find out. Just gone through a nasty little emotional breakup where in the near future, I'll wish that thar 2nd ever relationship was simply, entirely expunged from my life.

Paige, known as benedict-cutiebatch here, makes a post about being bored and wanting asks sent her way. Send your best pickup line. This was back when people sent eachother asks willy-nilly. I think, "Oh, sure, I've seen this person around, she seems alright. I'll send something funny and stupid, maybe make her laugh."

Send the "hot leg, hot hot leg" poem thing. She is so amused by it, she asks for my hand in marriage. Yaddayaddayadda, back and forth of just playing around pretend times. I have a lot of lighthearted fun. Cue the interaction ending, and us doing our separate things again. A week or so passes, and I've been specifically checking her blog. I don't do that with anybody else. This is a new habit I've picked up, because I loved the silly fake marriage tee hee haha joke.

Send an ask saying as such. She expresses similar sorta thing on her end. And we start talking again. Talking waaaayyy mooorree.

We talk fully through the night. No sleep. We talk fully through that next day. Eventually we exchange Skypes, because that's what everyone did in 2015. Flirting through the roof. Terribly blatant. Oml. But we're not dating, we're just. Completely all up in eachother. And I'm perfectly convinced that this girl probably just wants to enjoy the fun of somebody being bluntly into her, but not actually follow through further then that, and we'd just remain terribly forward friends with eachother, and that's how life goes sometimes.

Until I recieve an anon ask, that basically asks if me and her are dating and how c u t e we both seem to be, and I Assume that this is an unrelated third party, because, again. It was just waaay more common to recieve asks like that, back when I was a teenager. I respond to it all...

"L o l, naaahh.... b u t... It's not a Bad Idea.... 👀"

Anon sends another ask all... You should! You should try asking!

I think nothing of it, I take it as quite genuine advice that I do frankly agree with. And so. That's what my ass did. Asked Paige out in the most goofy, awkward way, after sending her screenshots of the anons, all "Haha, omgg, isn't this just sOoOoOo CrazyYyYy?? How Silly, hahaha.......... Unless.....?"

Fast forward like 2 years later into us being together, she's visiting me while I'm at college, we've Been seeing eachother, we've been having fun! So much fun!

She's sat on my lap while we're waiting on a ride back to my home, outside at a table and chairs; my ass fucking commuted. It's winter, and terribly cold in NY. I'm holding her close, and she starts saying something like... "Hey, you wanna hear something kinda fucked up...?"

I'm intrigued, of course, I'm like. Shoot, okay! I'm all ears.

Tells me that She was the one who sent those anons, and that she had a feeling I wouldn't Just Ask without being prompted. She, as she put it herself, lied to and tricked me. And she's clearly all broken up over it a bit, because she's sounding so hesitant as she tells me it.

I just sigh, hug her tighter, and I'm honest. Recalling best I can, I think it was something along the lines of...

"Thank goodness you did that, because you were totally right. I was too nervous otherwise, to just do that myself. And I would've kept on thinking you only wanted somebody to flirt with. I liked you too much. I didn't want to accidentally ruin anything between us."

Poor thing starts crying. So I just keep holding her, and telling her I love her, and that I'm r e a l l y not upset, after she says she was so worried that I would be, that I'd hate her, or think our relationship was built on a lie. I just see it as a perfectly reasonable thing to do, when someone too stuck in not doing the wrong thing, is too afraid to just ask for what she wants.

So yeah, basically, I got led into a relationship with a carrot and then a box slammed down around me, and I was completely chill with it the entire time. I truly was just having a blast.

[crazylittlejester]

Heyyyyyy how y’all doiiinnnggg…..

It’s been while, hey siri play “DEAD” by Melanie Martinez -

A) from that old post about what I would want to see in the fic: lwk I’m cool w/ whatever I put in (what I though was at the time) a prompt for like 500 words and did not think this far ahead 😭 lol I trust ur judgement on whatever gets added I’ll eat it up like those rlly yummy life saver mints

B) I’m back babyyyyyy the Ao3 curse works harder but I’m harder >:3

may or may not have almost died but that’s okay it keeps me on my toes. I have new medical insight on how to improve my whump 💪🤩😍

C) I’m abesolutely so sorry about that anon (ik I’m super late to the party) what they said was so out of line and I cannot think of what you could have even possibly done that would (unjustly) cause such a reaction?? People are assholes especially when they can abuse anonymousy online. I’m glad u seem to be doing ok 💜

D) I know i say this every time and blah blah blah but please make sure to not push urself over creating content and pleasing followers. I will (likely) not be dying anytime soon and I can wait as long as necessary for the Cia fic dude I make the prompt with the understanding that with you as the writer I would be meeting your needs/criteria for my silly little mentally ill twink to get sent through the meat grinder. Take as long as you need 💜

On a much less feely note:

E)

(No hate to you or anyone really who has this opinion)

Theory/hot take/opinion/etc:

Echoes of Wisdom (new game coming in sept) Zelda ≠ Fable (from SNES + game boy games)

Like, I get it, on a surface level it makes so much sense because the EOW game is in the same artsyle as the Links Awakening (remastered) game. Nintendo doesn’t really use the same artsyle with games (atleast since the N64) unless they are direct sequels, prequels, or otherwise linked (BOTW & AOC). New game but with the same artsyle as previous game? Obviously linked!

Except, no??? Here’s where that opinion doesn’t hold as strong:

the main peice of evidence here is that the Zelda in the trailers is the Zelda from OOT.

(I really wish I could put pictures as anon 😭)

Verbatim. That is her. She is wearing a pink dress, trapped in a pink crystal, while link fights and eventually cracks open said crystal. It’s hard to see the dress because of the crystal obscuring it, but in another clip (when the staff is first seen i believe) you can see her in the dress and it’s her.

Even if it’s not, it’s definitely not Fable.

There are two (?) versions of the Zelda’s that fall under “Fable”. one is in a blue dress (ALTTP) and one is in a white dress white a pink over apron-thingy. While its arguable that the crystal makes it look pink, or its too dark to see anything, ultimately the tabard is not the same and the top being two parts is not there, so no, its not Fable.

Which is really weird, because the Link is in fact the same link as the SNES + Gameboy (I call it the “Pixel Era”) Link. Brown Longsleeved undershirt + green sleeveless dress-tunic over it. Even weirder, he wield the hylian sheild. WHICH DID NOT EXIST BEFORE OOT. Again, not Pre-3D link.

It does exist in ALBW, meaning if you are into LU then it works with legend being the same person in all those games, but ALBW is canonically the “successor” to ALTTP

BUT GANON IS HERE?????? Hellooo????

(Fun fact: Gannon is what his pig/beast form is called while gannondorf is what his Gerudo form is called! :D)

Gannon only exists in the pixel Era games + ALBW. All of the 3d games use gannondorf. So this is such a weird thing to exist.

EVEN MORE CONFUSING, THE ZORA!?!??!?

If you don’t know what im referring to, for like literally 2-5 seconds there is a clip of the zora of this game. Ok, cool. Zelda game, with water, therefore there’s obviously gonna be zora.

(This is a “duh” moment for older fans but pls stick with me lol)

There are two versions of the zora: pre-OoT and post-OoT. TLDR; pre-OoT they look like horrifying fish monsters and try to kill you, Post-OoT they become hot and even get shipped with link in the later games. Hyrule historia (which is not the most reliable sometimes) explains it better but it has to do with the big Triple Timeline. The difference in zora design depends on which timeline you’re looking at, one of the timelines doesn’t have them at all.

So what’s so confusing? Is does the zora design not fit?

Yes!! You know why? BECAUSE THERE ARE TWO OF THEM. BOTH ZORA DESIGNS. IN THE SAME GAME. CLEARLY INTERACTING IN THE FIVE SECOND CLIP.

Also this was pointed out by my sibling: in the beginning, the hood long wears is eerily similar to the Hylian Hood in totk/botw. Later on in the trailer, my cousin pointed out a canon that looked “like it was zonai tech” but it was just a green cannon so tbh that’s more loose.

The Gaurd designs are also kinda weird to me? I can’t tie them back to any of the games bc of the weird helmet shape, and their uniforms look exactly like link’s first outfit in Hyrule warriors, though that seems unintentional.

Anyways. This game is. Something. I really don’t think it’s related to previous games (I hope not for the sake of lore holes it could tear up) but what we do know is:

- OoT Zelda has been taught Ctrl C + Ctrl V by magic yellow orb and uses a staff.

- Likely Takes place in the downfall timeline due to artstyle, the fact that the enemy zora exist, and the fact that Gannon is here in beast form

- atleast some inspiration from botw/Totk with the copying and open exploration mechanics

- there is maybe some alternate space/dimension bullshit from that one clip of Zelda moving blocks of water like she’s Moses

- takes place where the Hylian shield exists and therefore likely the story of a hero is still a thing

- takes place where BOTH ZORA meet and interact with eachother

This is driving me crazy. My dad says it’s the Zelda multiverse 😭

Sorry for the word vomit, I rlly needed to info dump ✌️

Your favorite void crawler,

Mandarin Warriors 🍊

OH MY GOD HEY, HI, I WAS GENUINELY WORRIED ABOUT YA

a. alskkddk okay 👍

b. oh my god I really hope that you’re doing okay dude, or at least that you’re feeling a bit better 🫶🫶🫶 sending hugs and love your way my guy

c. people sometimes suck and I considered turning off anons for a bit after that but i have too many wonderful anons and id hate to lose any of em because of one idiot

d. it’s going to be the next thing I put up when I come back from my so called ‘mental health break from writing’ 😭 (i literally can’t seem to stop writing, i am glued to my google docs 💔). Im not sure if you saw the post (and its totally okay if you didn’t, youve clearly been going through a lot and i genuinely hope that you’re okay) where I said part of why it’s takin so long js because I’m writing two separate versions of the fic because it’s heavy enough I feel it should be rated mature, but I’m making a ‘watered down version’ for people who were really waiting for this fic but dont wanna read anything rated higher than teen. I don’t write explicit things, but we’ve crossed the line from ‘implying things’ and into the ‘traumatic past events are being discussed’ zone and if im gonna write about trauma I’m gonna Write About Trauma, an’ yeah

i really hope you don’t die anytime soon anon, i don’t know what it is exactly that you just went through and you do not have to tell me, but i sincerely hope you’re doing okay, and if not okay, at least feeling better. I really was worried about ya 💜

and to yap about EoW:

IM GLAD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SAW THE HOOD AND THOUGHT OF THE ZONAI STUFF, IT REMINDED ME A LOT OF TOTK

i think itd be really cool if it was a new Link and Zelda. I love the like, art/animation style they chose, and I doubt nintendo is ever gonna tell us which Link this is 💀 but we can always have our theories 💔

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR YAPPIN, ITS WHAT THE YAP BOX IS FOR! FEEL FREE TO INFODUMP WHENEVER DUDE I LOVE IT HEAR IT, AND YOU SERIOUSLY HAD A LOT OF INTERESTING THINGS TO SAY

i know this is like the fourth time im saying this but again, I hope you’re alright. I missed ya, it’s good to hear from you again 💜

[allylikethecat]

Can I be very cheeky and request another kiss prompt… if you feel like it I’d love prompt 23 (a kiss in relief) for Matty and George (I’ve requested a pairing this time don’t worry!!)

Ps. Have you ever considered emojis to keep track of anons? For example I sign off as ♥️ on a few other blogs

Whelp, this is it. After what feels like a very long time (or well, it's been a month, up to you if that's a long time!) I have finally come to the LAST Kiss Prompt in my Inbox! Thank you so much to all you lovely wonderful people who have sent them in! I have had so much fun working on these and am so honored that y'all liked my writing enough to request them! My inbox is always open for more requests (formal or informal) and I will always do my best to fulfill these fic requests, even if they take me a while! I'm slowly but surely posting all of the kiss prompts that I've completed on AO3, so if you want to revisit any, missed any, or want to give any some special love, they eventually will all be able to be found here. The original list of prompts can be found here! Thank you so much again to everyone who spent in a prompt!

Special thank you very much ♥️ Anon for sending this one in! I'm sorry it took me a while to get to, but I hope you enjoy it! I had no idea there were enough people who sent me asks that you guys would want to have an emoji to identify yourselves but if you want want, it's yours feel free to claim it (just not the ♥️ unless you are the newly dubbed ♥️ Anon!) Let me know what you think!

(Warnings for this prompt: Matty is involved in a single car accident swerving to avoid a deer and ends up in the hospital - when George first finds out about the accident he worries that Matty was driving drunk, however he was NOT)

❤️Ally

23. Kiss … in relief

George’s heart was racing as he made his way through the sliding door, his rain damp trainers squeaking on the polished sheet vinyl flooring as he scurried across the lobby, nearly slipping right in front of the “Wet Floor” sign. There was another man in line in front of him and he resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently. He swallowed hard, trying to will himself to stay calm. He needed to stay calm and level headed. Matty needed him to stay calm and level headed. Only one of them was allowed to freak out at a time and George knew that it was not his turn.

The man turned away, a hospital bracelet fastened around his wrist and George felt a pang of sympathy as he watched him take a step to the side, headed towards the waiting room area. But he pushed it down, he was here under his own power, meaning it couldn’t be dire. It was his turn to speak with the receptionist. 

“I’m looking for Matthew Healy,” George said, quickly, bracing his hands on the counter, “I got a call that he was admitted.” 

“Can you spell that for me please?” the receptionist asked.

George swallowed down his irritation. “Healy, H-E-A-L-Y,” he said and the receptionist hit a few buttons on the keyboard, frowning as she looked at the screen. 

“And you are?” she asked, looking up at George, her expression bored, as if she wasn’t the only thing standing between Geroge and the love of his life. 

“Ah, George Daniel, his partner and power of attorney?” he said, hating that it sounded like a question, hating that he knew that title didn’t even begin to cover it. Matty was his soul mate, his other half, his twin flame burning, one could not exist without the other. However, he seemed to have earned her approval because she hit a few buttons on her computer and then nodded to herself. 

“He’s in room twenty oh two,” she said, “it’s through the double doors on the right, down the hall to the left,” she said.  

George barely remembered to thank her before he was running through the double doors she had indicated, watching the room numbers tick by as he looked for 2002.

He froze just outside the door, heart hammering in his chest as he tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was going to find. Was Matty going to be intubated and sedated? Was he going to be handcuffed to the bed? George swallowed hard, hating the uncertainty, hating that upon receiving the call his stomach had dropped. He hated that his first thought, even after all these years, was that Matty was drunk. Or high. Or a combination of the two.

The woman he had spoken with hadn’t been able to give him any information over the phone. Just that Matty had been involved in a single car accident and had been admitted into the hospital a little over halfway between Manchester and London. He had been driving back from visiting his mother, George hated himself as he buckled his own seatbelt that he had declined joining Matty on the trip.

He had made it to the hospital in record time, while still being careful of the heavy downpour. Worst case scenarios playing out in his mind's eye as he drove. Matty was drunk. He had to have been Geroge thought darkly. He loved Denise but also knew she would never discourage another glass of wine, he knew that Matty would never turn one down. He ran his fingers through his close cropped hair, the strands wet even from the sprint from the parking lot. He swallowed hard. He needed to rip off the bandaid. He needed to open the door. He was just terrified, uncertain, afraid of what he was going to find. 

A nurse rounded the corner and made eye contact with George, smiling up at him. “You can go in,” she said kindly, her accent thick and Scottish, seeing George’s hesitation. 

He took a deep breath, and turned the handle. 

“Oh love,” he said, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

Matty was curled up on his side, his back to the door, his dark curls, the ringlets matted together with what George hoped was water and not blood, were sticking out from the top of the blanket draped over him. He rolled over, the movement slow and careful as if it caused him great pain. 

“George?” he asked, his voice rough and wet as he sat up, blinking up at him like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I’m here, baby,” he said, moving through the doorway and deeper into the room, his legs moving on their own accord to Matty’s bedside. 

He reached out, running his hands down his skinny shoulders, his sides, checking him over as if he knew what he was looking for, as if he could pinpoint what was wrong with him, what was hiding beneath the thin hospital gown. He had a cut on his cheek, a butterfly bandage holding it together, and George was sure his chest was bruised from the seatbelt and airbags, his neck aching from the whiplash. He leaned down, pressing their lips together. He licked into Matty’s mouth, burying his fingers in the curls, holding his head steady so as not to aggravate his neck, he could taste blood from Matty’s lip, he must have bitten it during the crash. 

“You’re okay,” George whispered, eyes wide, as he pulled away, relief oozing from every pore. There was no alcohol on Matty’s tongue. “You’re okay.” 

Matty sniffled, “I’m so sorry,” he said, he was crying quietly George realized, “I fucked up,” he hiccuped, “I’m so sorry.”  

“Ssh,” said George sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Matty into his arms. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Matty turned and buried his face against George’s chest, his breathing evening out as George ran his hand down his back, his hand hot against the cool bare skin visible between the open sides of the gown. 

“What happened, love?” George asked, wanting to hear Matty’s account before he flagged down the doctor. 

Matty sniffled and took a shaking breath. “Well,” he said wetly, “my car is fucked.” 

George bit back a laugh. “We can replace that,” he said and Matty snorted. 

“It was raining,” he said quietly, “and you know I don’t see too well at night anymore, and a deer ran out in front of the car, I tried to swerve, but I was going too fast, I just wanted to get home, and I ended up hitting a ditch on the side of the road,” he said the words coming in a rush. “And the next thing I knew the airbags went off and I was rolling down the hill.” 

He took another breath, “they said I was lucky,” he said quietly, “that I had a good car, it could have been a lot worse.” 

“So what you’re saying is we need to get you another Audi,” George said, trying to cheer Matty up, trying to make him smile, the grief and upset rolling off of him in waves making George’s heartbreak. 

“I don’t think I want to drive anywhere for a while,” Matty said softly, keeping his eyes downcast. “The doctor’s said I can’t anyway, I have a concussion.” 

“And that’s okay too,” said George, pressing another kiss to Matty’s lips in relief. “I’m just happy that you’re going to be alright.”