#depends on the drabble

[rafeandonlyrafe]

orange peel theory (dark! and soft!rafe)

words: 1k (about 500 words each)

warnings: name calling, suggestive

orange peel theory: girlfriends ask their boyfriend to peel an orange for them, as a test to see if they are willing to help with small tasks that the girlfriend can do herself

dark

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions, looking at you with concern, not sure if he’s ever seen you read before.

“nothing.” you shake your head, shutting the book and setting it down, glancing at your phone to make sure it is still recording. “how was work?”

“fucking tiring. dealing with idiots all day.” rafe spits the words out before toeing his shoes off and leaving them in the center of the room.

“im sorry.” you pout, standing up as rafe takes a seat on the edge of the bed. you move to stand in between his thighs, pressing a kiss to his lips. he sighs with satisfaction, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, rubbing over them, tucking his fingertips under your shorts to feel your bare skin.

“can you get me an orange rafe? i’m craving one.” you move away from him, setting back on your chair to make sure you are centered in the camera.

rafe gives you a confused look but nods, mainly because he also needs to get a glass of water for himself. he re-enters the room, tossing the orange towards you, which you catch easily.

“thanks.” you smile as rafe takes a sip of water and then sets it on the nightstand. “can you peel it for me though babe?”

“what?” he questions, moving to kneel between your legs, an amused look on his face. “my stupid little slut not able to peel it on her own? too much of a baby?” “rafey.” you whine as he takes the orange out of your hand, unpeeling it and tossing the peel into the trash. he pulls a piece and then hovers it in front of your mouth.

“open up whore, i know how much you love to do that.” rafe taunts you before you lean forward, taking the slice of orange into your mouth and pulling it out of his fingers, letting the citrusy taste flood your mouth.

“you are so mean, this was supposed to be for tiktok.” you point out your phone, making rafe turn to look at the screen opened and recording.

“what?”

“for tiktok, its some trend about asking your boyfriend to peel an orange for you to see if he will do small tasks for you, and you totally failed!” you whine, stamping your feet on the ground in annoyance.

“but i peeled the orange for you.” rafe says with confusion.

“while also calling me a stupid whore!” you stand up, grabbing your phone and stopping the recording, knowing you won’t put it on tiktok.

“are you not my dumb little slut?” rafe asks, standing and stepping close to you, hovering over with his intimidating height.

“i mean i am, but-”

“exactly.” rafe cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours as he backs you up towards the bed.

soft

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“hey baby.” rafe leans down and gives you a kiss on the top of your head, which you quickly tilt up to have him press a second one to your lips.

“how was work?” you ask, setting your book to the side, glancing at your phone to make sure its still recording.

“exhausting.” rafe sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, making you pout.

“im sorry bubs.” you comment as he sits down on the bed to take his work shoes off. 

“no big deal. how was your day?” rafe asks.

“good…” you shrug. you usually go into more detail, and rafe knows it, so he sits quietly, waiting for you to continue. “but i’m actually really hungry.” you blurt out, figuring you shouldn’t delay any longer as you look at your phone again, lucky that rafe doesn’t follow your line of sight.

“what are you hungry for? we can order delivery.” rafe knows you like to cook, but he also doesn’t force it on you, leaving the option to get takeout open whenever you are tired or simply don’t feel like cooking.

“i actually just want an orange.” you shrug.

“thats not really food, darling, but okay.” rafe stands, setting his shoes on the rack next to the door before heading out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

you can’t help smiling at the camera as you wait, covering your mouth as rafe reenters, already knowing that he’s going to pass the test.

“here ya go.” rafe hands you a bowl instead of an orange, making your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before you take it and realize that the orange is already peeled and pulled apart, ready for you to enjoy.

“raaafe.” you whine.

“what?” rafe kneels down in front of your chair, placing his hands on your knees.

“i wanted a whole orange.” you complain, pouting your lower lip out as rafe looks at you in complete confusion.

“why, were you gonna eat the peel or something?” rafe laughs.

“no, its supposed to be a thing for tiktok.” you point towards your phone, which takes rafe a second to see from its hidden position. “you’re supposed to bring me an orange and i ask you to peel it to see if you’ll help me with a small task.”

“should i bring you back a whole orange then so you can ask?” rafe questions.

“no, i don’t even really want an orange to be honest.” you admit. rafe looks down into the bowl, taking a piece and putting it into his mouth, chewing it up. 

“what do you want then honey?”

“can you get me a banana?” you tilt your head to the side. rafe nods, grabbing the bowl from your lap before heading back to the kitchen.

you grab your phone and set it closer. “he’s just too good of a boyfriend.” you sigh as rafe comes back through the door, handing you a banana.

you smile at him in thanks, taking it out of his hand before he leans to press a kiss to your cheek, glancing at the camera, still recording when you realize how you can still test the theory.

“peel it for me babe?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[sipsteainanxiety]

after the many, many years of being bakugou’s friend, kirishima could say he has never seen his best bud so in love with someone before—so deeply and irrevocably smitten with you.

it was the little things, mostly, that piled up and up until it was so blatantly obvious that bakugou had fallen—and he had fallen hard. making you bentos, hanging around your desk, walking you home… he’d never behaved like this with anyone before, kirishima mused. it was jarring, in a way. but kirishima was happy for his friend, and he couldn’t help but to keep an eye on the two of you whenever he was in the vicinity (whether bakugou knew he was there or not).

lovestruck, was the word that came to kirishima’s bewildered mind the first time he saw bakugou trailing after you. following you like this great shadow around the agency. he never seemed to leave you alone for too long and he’d always have this little pout on his face whenever you’d shoo him away so you could do your own work. kirishima didn’t think bakugou even knew about the extent of his own feelings—not at first, anyways. and when he tried to confront the blond, he’d act all gruff and grouchy, his ears tinted a violent pink.

bakugou could deny it all he wanted, though. kirishima saw right through him.

what really cemented everything for kirishima—really hammered it in that his best friend was finally getting some of the happiness he deserved—was the time bakugou had caught you from falling off a ladder.

you’d been trying to hang up some decorations around the agency—to “brighten things up a bit” you’d said. kirishima had been too far away at the time—but he still saw the moment you’d leaned just a bit too far to the right. the moment your foot had slipped and you’d tumbled off that tall ladder with a small yelp.

bakugou had been exiting his office at that precise moment. and kirishima swore he had never seen his friend run so fucking fast before in his life. a small explosion propelled him forward—charring the wood and frame of his office door. just so he could catch you before you cracked your head open on the floor.

kirishima watched—from his position across the agency, his legs tensed—as bakugou held you tight within his arms and looked down at your shaken form. he watched as bakugou played off his breathlessness as though he hadn’t just dead sprinted across the hall to get to you on time. you wouldn’t ever know, kirishima thought to himself, how desperate bakugou would have to be to move that fast. and kirishima finally relaxed his stance once he saw bakugou set you carefully down on the ground, hovering over you as he scolded you for being so inattentive. you only rubbed the back of your head as you smiled sheepishly up at him. if bakugou hadn’t been smitten before, he certainly was now.

kirishima couldn’t have been happier, really. and he found himself quietly slipping away, a smile on his face at the idea of bakugou finally, finally being in love.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[azen13]

Your thoughts about yandere zhongli but in the au where you are the archon are tasty.... unfortunately, I don't think Zhongli will keep your Gnosis because it would be reneging on a contact and he is Contracts. But imagine... what if you sealed Morax away, and he (much like Azhdaha in canon) managed to split off a small part of himself to exist as a human, "Zhongli" the funeral parlour consultant? Your most devout worshipper.... until he frees your old enemy and friend, Morax. ♡

anon ur so real for this. i 100% agree zhongli wouldn't keep ur gnosis bc. god of contracts. the part about splitting off a small part of himself??? u truly ate. anyways here's a little drabble based on that idea! i had to rewrite it bc my laptop died and i lost my progress sobs

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

CW: Yandere Themes, Implied Stalking

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Every prayer made in your name is like a melody. They float across Teyvat, weaving together in a resonant unceasing chorus. From a young child wishing for protection for her father, to an old man begging for more time with his wife.

But beneath all the moving lines, beneath all the trills and mordents, is a peculiar prayer. A low, droning hum, one that seems to have gone on for centuries. When you listen to other prayers, you can glean out what it is saying. But while this one speaks in a language you know, it utters words you cannot understand. No matter how many sleepless nights you spend trying to decode its desires, they remain incomprehensible.

All that you know is that the person speaking it is deeply, utterly in love.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You hear it one day when you walk through the streets of Liyue, masquerading amongst mortals to understand their troubles. The sun has barely risen, its first rays turning the eaves of homes a warm amber color as you walk through Chihu rock.

Then you hear it. That low, rumbling tone, like an earthquake. It's coming from all around you, but you can't see anyone in front of you, so you spin around.

All you see is a man dressed in fine clothing, a slightly confused expression plastered on his face. Harmless. Unassuming. Even still, you cannot help but think that he looks strikingly like Morax.

"My apologies, I thought I heard something." You offer a kind smile, ready to turn away quickly, but the stranger steps forward.

"You are quite alright. It is quite early in the morning, so some exercise must be cautioned," he says, Cor Lapis colored eyes gazing at you intently. He even sounds exactly like Morax. His voice almost brings you to tears, but you sidestep your sorrows. "Perhaps we could walk together if you are concerned about danger?" The stranger asks.

You shake your head. "Thank you, but I would hate to impose on your time," you say. For some reason, the stranger's face tightens, almost imperceptibly so, but you see it in the slight frown of his lips, the narrowing of his eyes.

"I assure you," the man says, taking another step towards you, "I have no plans this morning." His words have an almost godlike authority to them, though you quickly brush aside that thought. You sense no such power from this man.

Taking another step back, you look into his eyes, as beautiful as polished amber, and stand firm. "I insist, I'm alright," you say, faking levity.

There is a moment of silence before the stranger lets out a soft sigh. "So be it," he says, pausing for a moment. "At the very least, may I know your name?"

By this point, you already want to leave. This man, human or not, is simply off-putting by how similar he is to Morax, in appearance, in voice, even in mannerisms. Still, you manage to stay smiling. "I'm Y/N," you say, offering your hand.

The stranger grasps your hand quickly in an almost vice-like grip. "I go by Zhongli," the man responds. He holds onto your hand for just a millisecond too long, but you don't pay it much mind. Letting go, Zhongli gives you a slight, almost unnoticeable smile. "I sincerely hope we meet again, Mx. Y/N," he says, turning around and casually walking away.

Something tells you that you will, in fact, meet him again.

[metalhoops]

Inspired by this post

Steve had watched the world end a hundred different ways. He’d lived the same day more times than he could count, watching the people he loved die or feeling himself die. There were things worse than death. There were memories he didn’t dredge up for fear of calling them into the waking world.

He'd held onto hope for the first twenty recurrent days, which had dwindled to a sense of steely determination until he’d lost count of the days. Then all that was left was the comfort of repetition. He was Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill, day in and day out. Steve kept trying and failing to save Eddie until it was all he knew.

Maybe he was Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and spent his life paying for it, tied to a rock while birds picked at his liver, only for it to grow back with each morning. Prometheus whose name, by definition, means forethought; one’s ability to consider possible futures. Steve had spent a small lifetime considering futures. It wasn’t a comparison he would’ve made on his own. That was Eddie, who’d spent his childhood with his head in thick tomes of fantasy and mythology.

Eddie Munson came to him like cheap furniture, in crudely disassembled pieces that Steve had been working tirelessly to put together. Each new loop brought him another piece of Eddie. His favourite colour was blue. He only woke up early on weekends to watch cartoons. He liked too much cream in his coffee.

The Eddie that existed in a world where Steve stayed with him and Dustin during the swarm of bats had told Steve his biggest dream was to make enough money to buy Uncle Wayne a proper home. His biggest fear was that when he died, no one would remember him.

Days or months later, with Steve repeating the same damn day, he’d finally learnt why Eddie’s love for his uncle ran so deep. Wayne had taken him in before his dad went to jail when the man caught Eddie holding another boy’s hand. In that world, Steve had stayed with Eddie in the RV as the rest of the group searched War Zone.  

Eddie’s mother died when he was six. He’d told Steve that later, or earlier. Steve had and has lost his sense of past and present. Eddie loved his mother deeply, though was unsure if that love had been misplaced. He recalled two mothers, one who read him bedtime stories and threw herself around the kitchen each morning with her wild theatrics and another mother who was distant and whose temper could turn on a dime. Eddie wasn’t sure which of those mothers was his and which was the mother of memory. All good storytellers know the story shapes itself in the retelling. Eddie’s mother was Janus, god of duality.

Steve understood. He loved and hated his parents. These feelings weren’t mutually exclusive. Steve loved Eddie because he’d spent the last hundred-odd days getting to know him, but Steve hated Eddie because he kept dying. Until he didn’t.

The boys lay side by side in the red-blue soil of The Upside Down, their bleeding sides caked with mud and demonic bat viscera. In the end, Steve wasn’t sure what’d done it. It’d been so long since he’d lived Eddie’s original death that it’d been smeared by the haze of memory and conjecture. All he knew was that a sea of bats lay dead around them and that it was over. Finally, over.

Steve removed his hand from where it was pressed into his side and extended it to ensnare Eddie’s. He felt muscles tug and tear from the walls of his ribs with the effort. Blood flowed freely from the cavity, but Steve didn’t care. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand. Holy shit, they’d done it.

Somewhere along the way, Steve had fallen in love. It’d taken him ten more iterations to reconcile with the fact he could not only like a man but love him.  That was months ago, in Steve’s time. It was old news. “Steve, you still with me?” Eddie asked, his voice horse.

He was hurt, though not as badly as Steve. All his wounds were superficial. He’d be okay. Steve had been so sick of watching Eddie die, he’d been willing to put his body on the line to make sure it didn’t happen again.

In this loop, he was still ‘Steve’, not ‘Stevie’. They hadn’t grown close enough yet. Eddie only called him ‘sweetheart’ in the iterations where they kissed. Steve wanted to kiss him, but there was the taste of iron in his mouth.

“I’m okay,” Steve insisted, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He felt a sharp pain shoot through his side as Eddie pressed his hand into Steve’s wound.

“Christ, there’s a lot of blood,” Eddie muttered to himself. 

He was bad with blood. He’d scraped his knee down to the bone when he was seven and ever since, the sight of gore made him queasy. Steve wasn’t meant to know that yet. In this iteration, he hadn’t told Eddie about the loop. He’d tried before, but it never helped.

Pain and blood loss drag Steve down into a familiar oblivion. He expected to wake at the beginning of the loop, emerging in The Upside Down from Lover’s Lake, but instead, he found himself in a hospital room with Eddie in a bed by his side. It was late, too late for visitors, but Eddie wasn’t sleeping. His eyes were trained on Steve, equal parts concerned and curious.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Eddie confessed, as Steve’s eyes met his. 

Steve wanted to cry or scream. He wanted to untangle himself from the knot of cords and tubes to crawl beside Eddie in bed as they had curled up together in the back of the RV dozens of times before. He needed to hold Eddie to know he was alive, to understand he wasn’t going anywhere. Steve blinked away tears, balling his hands into fists. He didn’t want to scare Eddie.

“I scared you?” Steve choked out a mixture between a laugh and a sob.

Eddie didn’t know what to do. He never knew what to do when people cried. Steve learned that in the iteration where they’d lost Dustin. He didn’t want to think about it.  

“You almost died, man,” Eddie explained.

He somehow understood Steve wanted him closer. Eddie got out of bed, clutching his I.V. drip as he flopped into the chair by Steve’s bedside. He wanted to hold Eddie’s hand again, but he was out of excuses. He could tell him the truth, but he didn’t know what good it would do.

Steve was still used to thinking of possible futures. He was Prometheus who, unlike Sisyphus, escaped his torment. Steve wondered what happened to Prometheus after he was rescued. Did he return to a normal life? Does anyone bother to ask? Prometheus’ story is always about punishment. Afterwards, he was a footnote in the story of Hercules, but once the heroes leave the story, what’s left?

Eddie would know the answer, but it wasn’t a conversation he’d had with this Eddie. That Eddie was dead. This Eddie was and wasn’t him. This Eddie was Janus, god of abstract duality, god of beginnings and ends, god of life and death.

“Sorry my lame-ass face is the first one you had to see. Robin and the kids were in here all day. Wheeler left flowers,” Eddie tacked on awkwardly.

This Eddie didn’t know Steve. They were strangers. Of course, things were awkward. He couldn’t know he was the one person Steve wanted to see more than anything.

“No, Ed’s—.” Slip of the tongue.

“Eddie. I’m really glad you’re here, man.”

They were back to square one, but Steve could work with that. He’d been working with that for months. This time, Eddie would remember. This time, they had the luxury of taking things slow.

“One thing’s been bugging me all day,” Steve began.

After hundreds of days of getting to know Eddie, Steve had learnt a few shortcuts, a few ways to jump-start his way into Eddie’s heart.

“Can you explain what the hell Mordor is?”

It was a tried-and-true method. By that point, Steve knew Eddie’s response off by heart, but he wanted to hear him say it. Eddie gave him the same perplexed look he always did when Steve asked. It was as though Eddie thought he knew too much like there was some secret he wasn’t letting him in on, but he didn’t challenge Steve on it. He never did.

“Harrington, have you heard of Lord of the Rings?” Yes.

“No.” A million times.

“Tell me about it.”

Read Part 2 Here

[generic-whumperz]

[fbfh]

Imagine topping Leo in a chair?

LITERALLY love you for this. riding Leo in a chair is in like your top 5 favorite ways to ride Leo. your faces are so close together and he can feel every intimate rockwing bouncing squeeze of your tight juicy little hole gripping his throbbing cock like a vise. his eyes are so wide and his grip on your soft hips is nearly enough to leave pretty little fingertip bruises polkadotting your thighs (which he's obsessed with) and your hips (which he's also obsessed with) and your ass (are you sensing a pattern here????) and god everything you do drives him crazy but CHRIST the way you hold his face so sweetly in your pretty hands, so innocent and tender while simultaneously milking his cock for all he's got. and he'll give it to you. Leo will let you ride him in that chair that he can't look at after that without going half mast. he'll let you ride him until he's shooting blanks, until both of your cum drips on the floor, mixing in messy creamy beautiful puddles. Leo will throw his head back in pleasure, panting, chest heaving and giving you the best view of his perfect neck that's just begging to be covered in hickeys and bites. Leo will let you ride him in a chair until he passes out. can't walk. pounding down gatorade and liquid iv to try and rehydrate. and he'll thank you for it.

[nebuladreamz]

“You make for terrible habits.”

The words ring in your ears as you paused for a split second, broom still in your grip before continuing. “Oh yeah?” You reply, no hesitance. “What makes you think that?”

Save for both of your presences, El Chip’s is quiet, the lights dimmed considering it was after hours. One of these days you were going to strangle your employer for the change in times, but some good came out from staying past closing. One of them being talking to your recent favorite bot. Well, technically two, but whatever.

You lifted your head up towards the ceiling, seeing your favorite hanging there, red beady eyes staring in your direction.

Arms finding each other crossed against your chest, letting the broom lean at an angle atop one of the dining tables, you raise a brow at him. “Well? What makes you think so, twinkletoes?”

He scowls at the name, which only makes you give a cocky grin.

Moon takes a few beats of silence for himself until he finally relents an answer. “Figure it out.”

You huff at that. “You’re one to talk then.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Now you’re just saying things.”

A scratchy chuckle itches your ears as you move to grab the handle of the tool to return to work. The lunar-themed robot irritated you at points, but despite his efforts of annoying and pestering you (ones that always succeeded), you could never find yourself liking him any less. What could you say? You like the kind of guy that could wreck your shit. At least half the time.

So when the time came that his hands found their place around your neck, squeezing painfully, tears pricking your eyes, the bubbling fire threatening to push through his grip was surprising. You can’t remember what was said before now.

But it hurts. Maybe it was your fault. You don’t know. It hurts.

He had a habit of getting too close. A terrible habit until the end.

[splickedylit]

SO close to finishing a fic. >8,I goddammit. I stay silly.

[waterfallofspace]

Allergic To Concepts

Is anyone else still into the M/agnus Archives? Maybe, maybe not, but I have had this fic sitting in my google docs for months, and I just finally managed to get myself to finish up the last bit, so here is part one of a possible two part fic, if I can ever manage to get myself to write the next part!

So, if anyone wants, please enjoy a little Allergic to concepts Jon. aka, Jon is so allergic to dogs that just the idea of them gets him a bit worked up~

I'll never be over this podcast, and I might start sharing small (tiny) drabbles of these guys if anyone would be interested <3 or even just to start coaxing myself back into writing~

Characters: Jon, Martin, Tim, and Sasha Word Count: 2.7k

“-so to conclude, we absolutely, most certainly, cannot do that,” Martin finishes, hands woven into his hair. Seems to happen more often nowadays; getting a job you’re not exactly qualified for tends to bring on a touch of added stress. What brings even more stress, however, are the faces staring back at him, twin smiles painted across worryingly calm canvases. Seems once a poet, always a poet, even in your own thoughts. 

Tim chuckles, mischief running through his eyes. “How do you even know that? You been stalking our new boss?” 

“W-well no, it’s just that…” Martin starts, beginning to study the floor as his rambling starts to take over. “Well there may have been an… incident, of- of sorts, with a uh… well it was, I was trying to open this door, but see I was holding files, and there was this dog, and they kinda just- well I was trying to stop it but it got in and- so I went to Jon’s office and he was just kinda… and then I-” 

“So what?” Tim interrupts, mercifully saving Martin from his own tongue. “Why should his issues stop us from havin’ a good time?” With a snap of his fingers, Tim casts Sasha a devious wink. The colour seems to drain from Martin’s face as he holds up a shaking finger, aiming somewhere behind Tim’s shoulders. 

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Sasha mutters, her smile never wavering. 

Spinning on his heel, Tim turns to greet the newest arrival to the hallway. “Fancy seeing you here, boss! Burning the midday oil?” 

Jon pauses, papers nearly spilling from his crowded arms as he fumbles with some keys. “That’s not an expression. And what are you all doing cramped in the hall? Don’t any of you have work to do?” 

Martin nearly keels over as Jon’s glare settles against him, seemingly deeming him responsible for this lapse in progress. As if! In fact, he’d been the one begging them to get back to work. Honestly, Jon should appreciate the fact that he talked them out of-

“Actually, we’re thinking of heading off for the day,” Tim cuts in, leaving Martin’s mouth nearly hanging open. Had they not just gone over why this was a horrible idea? As if to answer his unspoken question, Sasha joins in with support for Tim’s cause. Martin’s pretty sure there’s actually a gap between his lips. 

Jon, having opened the office by this point, merely stops and stares. Seconds pass, though it feels more like minutes. There appears to be some sort of staring match between the three of them. 

Finally Jon breaks the silence with a short… well, it’s hard to call it a laugh, more like a huff. His posture tightens as he attempts to pull himself to his full height, casting Tim a wary glance. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Quite serious in fact! See, me and Sasha have been thinking,” Tim pauses, gesturing to the aforementioned with a sickly sweet smile. Merely performance charm, which given the eye-roll she shoots back, Sasha’s well aware of. ��All of us here need a chance to bond.” 

“Bond, you say,” Jon’s monotone voice offers no insight to how he’s taking this suggestion. As Martin’s mouth begins to dry, his hands start working their way back into his hair. 

“Indeed!” Tim continues, seemingly oblivious to Martin’s rapidly increasing heart rate. “We’ve all been stuck here together, figured we should become more of a team, you know? A team-building exercise you could call it. Something to get us more on the same page.” 

“And what is this ‘team-building exercise’ you have in mind?” 

Well, his heart may have been racing before, but it’s not anymore. In fact, he’s almost entirely convinced it’s just stopped completely. Jon’s eyes meet his own, and Martin drops his gaze fast enough to leave him dizzy. 

This time Sasha speaks up, her coy tone doing nothing to alleviate the heart attack symptoms Martin’s now convinced he’s feeling. “An animal rescue cafe. They rescue dogs and cats, the ones that need rehoming, and bring them there so you can get to know them before you adopt. One opened just down the street from here, and me and Tim have been looking into going. We figured, might as well drag you and Martin along with us.” 

Jon’s glare narrows further, a single hand coming up to rest between his eyes. The movement is completed by pushing up his glasses with a sigh. “And how exactly does drinking tea in a room full of animals qualify as team building?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person from the way they treat animals,” Tim offers. “Not to mention the fact that there’s a whole study about how psychopaths are more likely to hate cats, which is mostly due to the fact cats have willful behaviour.” 

Martin can almost taste his heartbeat at this point, a fact he’s finding quite alarming. Still rummaging through papers, Jon steps into his office. Much to Martin’s chagrin, they all seem to be following him. 

“Are you suggesting someone working in this office is a psychopath, Tim?” Jon continues, huffing out another sigh as he notices the entourage entering his office. Jon’s glare lands on Martin once more, something he’s almost gotten used to at this point. 

Laughter begins to flow from Tim, Sasha joining in with a mild chuckle. “Of course not, but hey, this job’s all about researching things that probably aren’t true. Better safe than sorry, right?” 

Seemingly the only one noticing Jon’s growing apprehension, or maybe just the only one that cares, Martin can’t peel his eyes off their boss. Unaware of the scrutiny, though perhaps expecting it nonetheless, Jon pushes up his glasses again. Martin doesn’t miss the way he lets a single finger brush against his nose during this action. Nor do his eyes skip over the light scrunch forming at the bridge of said nose. 

Oblivious as always, Tim’s still going on about the cafe. Something about which animals are available, what tea they serve, scones, and more useless information. Sasha’s typing something in her phone, apparently fact checking his current ramblings. Still, all of that fades into the background as Martin’s attention is drawn to Jon once more. 

At first, he can’t figure out why he’s watching. Jon didn’t speak, and from his posture he hasn’t made any significant gestures. There doesn’t seem to be anything specifically that should have caught his eye, and yet-  

And then it happens again. Jon’s brows tighten, his eyes begin to flutter shut, and his lips part just enough for his tongue to peek out between them. There’s a beat of silence, then a single breathy inhale, barely noticeable above Tim’s monologuing. 

“ihh-” 

Just as quickly as it began, Jon crushes it back once more, a hand roughing swiping against his nose. There’s a quiet feeling of– perverse excitement as Martin watches him. Why? No earthly idea. It’s not as if there’s anything specifically… exciting about the action. There’s no physical stimulation beginning, to phrase it politely. 

Still, there’s something… almost electrifying, about bearing witness to a moment so personal and private. As if the only person in the room is Jon, and he’s opened the door for Martin to join him in his world. Which, as you think about it, just becomes more and more– creepy as hell! Damn it! 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Martin manages to peel his gaze away from Jon. Zoning back into Tim’s rambling, he just barely catches the tail end of a rant about different toppings on cinnamon buns. His silence was entirely unnoticed. Understandably, given only Tim had said anything in minutes. 

“Personally, I’m a fan of the regular cream cheese icing,” Martin offers, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Tim as another soft sniffle sounds behind him. The others don’t notice it, Sasha rolling her eyes as a light begins to dawn in Tim’s. 

“Well, interesting you say that Martin, they actually have those at the cafe down the street! Isn’t that such a wonderful coincidence?” Tim swirls his body towards Martin, casting a playful glance back at Jon as he continues. “Wouldn’t you like to stop by and get yourself one of those delicious buns?” 

Martin feels his face begin to pale again, and barely manages a meek, “W-well… I don’t need to… get one right now… but if you want-” 

Thankfully he’s saved from himself as a gasp sounds out from the desk. Everyone in the room turns, Martin included, just in time to see Jon duck into his wrist with a tight, “ih’nGXt–uih!” 

“Bless you!” Sasha calls, Tim and Martin echoing the sentiment. A flush begins to spread over Jon’s cheeks, but it’s brushed off as he waves a hand, continuing to scribble on some papers. Casting a glance over to Tim, Martin sighs as the mischief floods the other man's face. He’s very clearly not letting this go. 

“Was that actually a sneeze?” Tim laughs, mimicking the sound as Sasha suppresses a giggle. 

Jon keeps his head down, pen still moving across the paper in disjointed movements. “It was in fact a sneeze, yes. Happens to everyone from time to time, no need to make a big deal out of it. Now, I believe you were going to a cat and do- hiHh! rescue cafe?” 

The hitch manages to escape from Jon’s tight grip, his posture shuddering slightly with the force of continuing the sentence. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Martin that just the word dog seems to leave him breathless. 

“A dog cafe, yeah! You’re coming too, right boss? Come see all the adorable little puppies?” Tim offers, gesturing towards the door. Apparently it didn’t go unnoticed by him either. 

An audible gasp sounds out, and all eyes turn back to the rapidly hitching boss. Jon manages to stifle the first one almost silently, only a rush of breath escaping at the end. 

“Bless you, boss.” 

Jon waves a hand, wiping away the water beginning to flood his eyes. “Was just sihh… sighing, Tim.” He finishes the statement with another stifle, this time his whole body jerks along with the rough exhale.  

“Really? Because that sounded like another sneeze,” Tim taunts, poking a finger towards Jon’s face. “And given the way your nose is twitching, you seem far from done.” 

Jon seems to consider debating, but another frantic hitch decides it for him. Giving up the ruse, he ducks into his shoulder with another, “eh’tNGxt–uh! ih’NTchhuh!”  

“Bless yo-” 

“eH’DGZSHhh –uu!”  The volume makes everyone jump, seeming to surprise even Jon. 

“Oh- mby apologies, I seeb to be… hiehh–” Jon trails off, one hand frantically searching for a tissue, nose visibly trembling behind the other. In a move of uncharacteristic pity, Tim pushes the box within reach. Jon mumbles out a thank you, before swinging his chair around for a touch of privacy. 

The silence is almost deafening, cut up only by the rustling of fabric as Jon attempts to subdue the onslaught. “eh’nGNt –oo!” And fails miserably. 

“Do- maybe do you want… well possibly we should, actually I think you might- I mean he might want–” Desperately trying to find a way to fill the space, Martin rambles on, gaze bouncing between all three of his coworkers.

“Martin,” Jon cuts him off, “just say it.” 

The annoyance Martin’s come to expect seems unaffected by the breathy quality of Jon’s words. Unless you notice the flushed nature of his ears, which… is kinda hard to miss when his nose is starting to match. 

“S-sorry! I just figured you may want a touch of uh… privacy..? You seem… itchy,” Martin offers, already beginning to back out of the room. 

Jon glares, lining up a retort before pausing as the first syllable comes out muffled with congestion. A sharp sniff and quick rub later, he continues in an easier tone. “I’m quite alright. No need for such concerns.” 

“I mean- If… if you’re sure…” 

Tim interrupts this time, draping an arm across Martin’s back. “You heard the boss, he’s fine. Now, onto that cafe?” 

Before Martin can get a word out, Jon stands from his chair, dropping the tissues in the wastebasket next to his desk. Sasha chuckles out her approval, sticking her phone into a pocket and beginning to exit the office. Tim follows suit, leaving Martin standing alone with Jon. 

There’s a beat of silence, Martin watching, horrified, as his body refuses to move an inch, silently waiting for Jon’s approval. 

“Well?” 

It’s not exactly an invitation, but it’s more than enough to send Martin scrambling for the door, muttering more sheepish apologies under his breath. If Jon heard them, he gave no indication, busy rustling through a desk drawer. A few more muffled stifles make their way through the noise, no indication given they were heard either. 

As Martin makes it into the hallway, he catches Tim waving from the door. He’s propping it open with one foot as Sasha waits outside, once again on her phone. Martin waves back his acknowledgement, before gesturing towards the kitchen. Tim simply shrugs, calling something about ‘not waiting around’, before joining Sasha in the crisp autumn air. 

Making his way back to the kitchen, Martin pauses at Jon’s door. He’s not eavesdropping, just… listening in, to see if Jon’s alright. It’s his boss after all, and he’s an assistant! He’s supposed to… assist! Perfectly natural thing to do, isn’t it? 

A harsh double pulls him from his spiralling, Jon’s voice coming through audibly in the groan that follows. Alright, enough listening in, this is starting to feel more creepy than curious. 

With what little confidence he can muster, Martin works his way through his plan. The mugs are where they always are, but the water in the kettle was a bit more cold than a proper cup of tea would allow. Flipping the switch, Martin began heating it, and hurried out of the kitchen to his desk. He picks out a fairly bland tea, Jon seems the bland type… right? 

Another few sneezes sound out from the boss’s office, and Martin almost starts to feel guilty for still being in the office. It’s obvious Jon assumes he’s alone, if not from the sneezes themselves, from the groans that come after them. Ever the stickler for a Professional Appearance, he’d never allow himself to be seen or heard in such a state willingly. 

The kettle sounding pulls Martin from his thoughts once more, and he pours the water over the tea bag. Moving carefully, as not to spill, he makes his way back to Jon’s office, knocking softly on the door. 

“Yes?” The reply is sharp, a frantic sounding shuffling occurring as Martin begins to slide open the door. 

“Hey, yeah sorry I just- you sounded like… I just thought that maybe you’d want… you might need some…” 

“Spit it out, Martin,” Jon sighs, giving his nose a subtle swipe. Unfortunately for him, this seems to have been the wrong choice. His nose twitches, eyes beginning to unfocus, and Martin finds himself pausing for the interruption. At least, until Jon gestures at him to continue. 

“Well, I just ma-” 

“ih’tNGT–uu!” 

“Bless you. I just made you some tea, it seemed you cou-” 

“hHUh’dNT–uh!” There’s a pause, Jon’s breath catching dramatically, before he swivels around in the chair and aims a harsh, “eH’dZSHH– eih’DSCHhhh–oo!” at the fistful of tissues he managed to grab. 

It wasn’t exactly quiet, and Martin finds himself flinching against the noise, but holds it together as he places the mug on Jon’s desk, hurrying through the rest of his sentence. 

“Seemed you could use some tea, bless you again by the way, anyways I’m gonna head off with Sasha and Tim, I’ll see you there I guess! Or, well- not just me, we’ll all see you there, as a group, if you choose to come that is! Which of course you don’t have to, though we’d lik-” 

“Martdin,” Jon, mercifully, cuts him off, congestion seeping through his words. With a deep sigh, he finishes his sentence. “Thagnk you. You mbay go ndow.” 

Taking the out, Martin gives one last nervous smile, sliding out into the hallway. Another desperate sneeze leaves him wincing, Jon’s vocal groan sounding out yet again. The poor guy sounds miserable, and Martin almost considers going back in and telling him not to come. If he’s this bad from just the thought… well… 

But he’s embarrassed himself enough for the day, and, albeit hesitantly, Martin heads off to meet Tim and Sasha at the cafe.

[dollfaceksj]

THE SEXYAL TENSION U CANT CUT US OFF LIKE THAT WE NEED 10

u ask for drabble #10 and i shall deliver

warnings: teasing, tension, fuckboy!jk back in action, dilemma

have fun and all i’m gonna say is… THINK.

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #10

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

u jog up to the rest and swing the bag of snacks back and forth in their faces

“look what jungkook got us!” you beam, opening up the bag to show what’s inside

hyunjoo and isabella are just as excited as you, seokjin is just digging into the bag and yoongi is trying not to care

“good taste,” isabella quietly says to hyunjoo as she nudges her hip with her own

😀😀😀😀

inside joke?

she said it so quietly that you’re sure you weren’t supposed to hear that

you watch as hyunjoo starts blushing and she hides her face behind her hands whilst telling isabella to knock it off

….

alright then…. moving on?

“y’all are just in time for dinner, tae and jimin already set the table.” yoongi is the rational one as he keeps you up to date with what happened when y’all were gone

at least SOMEONE that actually thinks about you

he’s so :(( <333

you smile at him and just as you’re about to ask if you can have a talk with him, you hear the drop of water bottles hit the ground behind you

oop

hello

you turn to look over your shoulder and jungkook is right behind you, staring you down

eyes so black you’re convinced you’re staring down two bottomless pits. just an abyss

he looks

annoyed

“oh, thanks jungkook!” seokjin yells as he runs up to the packs of water and takes a few out to keep them in the coolbox. “you too, y/n!”

jungkook doesn’t respond and neither do you

but before you can get back to what you were doing

he wraps his hand around your bicep and pulls you with him a few meters, creating enough distance between the others and you to make sure no one hears

oh gosh

oh no

cue squidward voice

oh no he’s hot

oh ur gonna fold

ur gonna fold

ur gonna FOLD

jungkook starts, “i hope you know this means we’re even.”

you blink at him a couple times. “meaning?”

he lets go of your arm. “meaning it’s gonna go back to the way it was.”

ha

right right

???

you cross your arms over your chest, mischief glinting in your eyes as you glare up at him. “i don’t know, i liked it when you were all pathetic and needy, those eyes of yours just pleading and begging at my mercy.”

he narrows his eyes at you for a split second and then chuckles,,,,

he CHUCKLES

Yeah… he wasn’t kidding when he said it’s gonna go back to the way it was

cause you’re starting to feel smaller and smaller by the second

“speaking of,” he begins, completely disregarding your comment. “shouldn’t you apologize to me too?”

you frown. “and why the fuck should i?”

he laughs, shoulders bouncing as he LAUGHS in YOUR FACE. “i know you’re older than me but don’t pretend like you’re losing your memories. you said some hurtful things to me too.”

older than me

why

did he have

to remind you

for FUCKS sake wow

why did he kinda gag you😭

your lips twitch and you grit your teeth together trying to come up with a response.

“no comment? shall i remind you, then?” he starts, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants

you’re not gonna let him assert his dominance. “oh, do enlighten me.”

“good for nothing, narcissist, fucking loser, gross, nothing but a fuckboy,” he lists

damn that shit was weighing down on his mindddd

he listed that so fast. like he’d memorized it

you shrug your shoulders. “alright then, i apologize for those things.”

he squints his eyes at you again, already anticipating something mischievous from you

and he’s goddamn right

“but you are a fuckboy. i’m not apologizing for calling you that.”

there it is

he takes a step forward, closing whatever gap was between the two of you

“stop calling me a fuckboy.” his brows are furrowed and his breath fans over your face

“or what?” you retort with all the defiance you can muster

oof

this is

getting intense

cause why do you feel the back of your neck heating up….

he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare you down. “if i really was a fuckboy, i’d have fucked you already.”

WOOP WOOP THATS THE SOUND OF DA POLICE

HUH

wait

okay

lets calm down

lets not let him get to you like before

you snort, “and you want me to apologize for calling you a narcissist?”

“saying that doesn’t make me a narcissist.” he looks around for a moment, head turned to the side

the side of his face that you smacked back in that club LMAOOO

your eyes instantly trace his jawline, his lips, the column of his throat, the adam’s apple bobbing up and down whenever he speaks or swallows

he’s so fucking fine…

“but if me thinking i’m the fucking best at what i do makes me one, then i’ll take it.” he turns his head again, facing you fully as his eyes shift back to yours

best at what i do

????

what is he…

is he referring

to

is he referring to fucking people?

don’t embarrass yourself.

ask for clarification.

your frown deepens. “what do you mean?”

he stares at you for what seems like ages, an unreadable expression on his face

his eyes drop down to your lips for a moment before they shift back up to make eye contact with you

then, a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips for a few seconds before disappearing. “i think you know what i mean.” he nonchalantly takes his phone out of his pocket and glances at the time

does he know

you were thinking about …

him … having sex …

jesus girl stop being embarrassing 😭

he says, “now let’s go have dinner.”

and with that, he walks away

hm

okay…

nicely done

you know, before you didn’t know how to handle him

but now… now you know exactly how to play his game

you’ll take the bait

during dinner, you’re seated in between yoongi and tae and right across from you

is that FUCKER again

ugh life is just taunting you atp….

you’re all just sitting around, empty plates with food remnants on them and paper cups filled with water

“we should play never have i ever or truth or drink!” tae beams

hoseok replies, “we don’t have any alcohol.”

“so? we can just do it with water!” tae suggests and everyone’s just glancing at each other

“fuck it, why not?” yoongi says as he pours water into your cup without you asking

yoongi is such a gentleman… wow.

fighting every urge not to drop onto your knees and give him the filthiest, sloppiest blowjob of his life

you’re looking around and it seems like everyone is starting to like the idea of a game

“never have i ever gotten high,” tae starts and immediately reaches for his own cup

you watch as joon, yoongi, tae and jimin drink

well… whatever is revealed on the camping trip, stays here

you sheepishly reach for your own cup and take a sip

everyone starts laughing, asking you when and why but you quickly dismiss them with a wave of your hand

“okay, never have i ever masturbated more than 3 times a day,” jimin says

DAMN? going straight for the inappropriate asks

and you watch as seokjin, hoseok and joon reach for their cups

more than 3 times should be illegal…

put these BEASTS behind bars

IMMEDIATELY!!

but then

hyunjoo raises her cup to her lips too

wow??? shes been so quiet and shy

like don’t judge a book by it’s cover but you’d have never expected it from her😭😭

not that she masturbates a lot… but that she’d admit it like this 😭

props to her

everyone roars at the revelation and shes just hiding her burning face

you laugh at the scene in front of you and shake your head, they’re so ridiculous

“i have one,” hoseok starts, making everyone turn to him

hoseok is known as the guy that always asks ridiculous things that no one can drink to

“never have i ever had sex with someone that’s sitting at this table.”

see? ridiculous.

like how would–

wait

why are hyunjoo and isabella giggling as they reach for their cup :)

and why is jungkook raising the cup to his lips :)

this

uhhhh

wow

😂😂😂😂😂😂

yeah let’s not act crazy rn

so

this means they either had a threesome or he fucked both one on one

you don’t like either outcome

wait

what are you even saying?

jungkook can do whatever the fuck he wants

like literally why the fuck do you care

everyone’s laughing and asking stuff but jungkook and the girls are staying quiet and shaking their head while laughing

okay well at least they’re having a good time😂😂😂😂😂

😐

smilin’ but it ain’t funny. smilin’ but it ain’t funny.

you should have known these two random ass girls have had sex with that fuckboy

community dick

hm

college community dick

yeah

college community cock?

CCC

LMFAOOOO

yeah. new nickname alert.

you glance at jungkook but he’s not looking at you, no, he’s glancing at the two giggling girls at the end of the table with a small smile on his lips

and you don’t like it one bit

“moving on,” you interrupt, “never have i ever been brutally rejected.”

everyone turns to look at you. “brutally?” joon echoes

“yeah like, with a slap to the face or something.”

they all go “ahhh” but they shake their heads, implying that has never happened before

you stare jungkook down and he’s staring back. you watch as the realization sets on his face and that he has to be the only one that has to drink to this particular scenario

he wanted you to take his bait, right?

his eyes glimmer with something you can’t quite put your finger on but he picks up his cup nonetheless and drinks, being the only one at the table who does so

right right

let’s see if he’s still up to play games with you

everyone laughs at the fact jungkook had gotten slapped before and he nods with a smile, allowing them to laugh at him

“my turn,” he starts and then his eyes land on you again. “never have i ever thrown my good friend under the bus by lying to save my own ass for something insignificant.”

record scratch

ohfuck

IS HE

Oh no

WHY WOULD HE DO THIS

everyone looks around. “ohhh good one, that’s so messed up,” jimin laughs as he slaps jungkook’s shoulder

fuck

fuck

FUCK

no one’s drinking

oh you’re gonna look like a shit fucking friend

you scratch the back of your head as you slowly reach for the cup and take a sip

everyone at the table is now focused on you

“y/n! it better not have been me!” tae yells as he pokes your sides which almost makes you spill water over yourself

you grumble, “no, of course not.” you put your cup back down and glance up at jungkook, who is sitting right across from you, still fucking looking at you

hands against the bench he’s sitting on, on each side of his hips as he leans on them, head tilted back and staring you down with the most shit-eating fucking grin

you need to slap that right off his pretty face

JERK

the games continue and whenever it comes back to you or jungkook, it’s just underhanded jabs between you two that thankfully no one else seems to notice

it’s past 11pm now and it’s time to go to sleep so you slowly rise to your feet

you and jungkook were kinda the only ones without a task aside from picking up water so you were assigned to clean up with him

he told you to wait for him while he goes to pee

but ur not gonna wait for him so you gather the plates of everyone, watching as yoongi suddenly appears next to you to help you out

“you prepared the food, you don’t have to clean up.” you remind him of the delicious food he helped preparing for you

like yoongi is such a good cook yo😭😭

he shakes his head. “i want to.”

you smile and continue to gather plates and cups

ugh and you’re moments away from getting into a tent with jeon jung fucking kook

like just being that close to him for that long has got to be some kind of divine punishment

wait

you’re such a fucking bitch

this man is being so fucking sweet, cleaning up with you when he literally doesn’t have to and you’re thinking about some random fuckboy?

enough.

it’s time to set the record straight before shit gets out of hand

you need to make a choice

and you need to choose wisely

“yoongi?” you call out to him, watching as he swiftly turns to you, responding with a soft ‘hm?’

“can we talk?” you quietly ask as you place the plates back down on the table and walk up to him

“of course.” he says, reaching out to adjust the earring in your earlobe. “what’s bothering that pretty head of yours?”

fuck

his hands are so soft

wow

get real

you need to be serious

calm down

you can do this

CHOOSE WISELY

to be continued

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[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Bath

Hello!

Direct continuation from the prev Drabble 'Mud'! Taking place almost directly after.

First Drabble (original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev drabble Next Drabble

So we take off almost right were we left off, only like a small hour later.

*---------------------*

Nighmtare can't stop the purr as warm water goes over his shoulders to clean some of the worst mud away from the cravices.

Dust hums "Yeah I figured it would feel nice. feeling warmer?"

Nightmare nods and leans back against the hand on his spine. Dust had been supporting his spine ever since they got back and told him what happened. They went straight to the bathroom.

"Hah! Dusty using his magic hands?"

Dust shoots Killer and annoyed look from where Killer is sitting with his boxers on in the bathtub with Ngihtmare. Grinning widely.

"What? I also needed to get cleaned up!" Killer looks very smug.

Dust shoots Nightmare a look "How is it that you are 6 yet he is more childish?"

Ngihtamre grins and just leans more into the hold. The touch is gentle as Dust removes mud from the sensitive and painful spots. It hurts a little but not nearly as much as it used to hurt when getting cleaned, and no were near as much hurt as with the mud in it.

Dust continues cleanign his spine and ribcage slowly "It didn't get too far in. Seems like your sweater protected you from that."

Ngihtmare pushes closer to Dust's touch "Sorry for getting it dirty..."

Dust hums "No need. You didn't mean to get it dirty and even fi you meant to. It is just a sweater. Even so Cross is already working on cleaning it. It will be fine." He uses a small bucket to let some water wash away the soap.

Killer grins as he leans agianst the tub edge "Me next dusty?"

Dust doesn't even look up as he keeps washing Nihgtmare's shoulders "You can wash yourself."

Killer whines "But dusty~ Stuff may have gotten between my joints! Same like nighty!"

Nightmare rolls his eye lights but purrs when Dust starts washing his skull and neck. It is so nice and familiar by now. They always do this even if Nightmare knows that Dust knows Nightmare can wash that himself. Dust always takes time to carefully wash his skull and neck for him.

Dust hums "And Nightmare is six. which you are not." Dust taps his shoulder carefully "close your sockets nightmare. I am going to wash off the soap."

Nightmare nods and closes his sockets before feeling the warm water wash over his skull and shoulders. It feels amazing!

Dust smiles "there is the happy purring. much better." then softer "Can I wash your sockets?"

Nightmare considers it for a moment. He never likes seeing the others when he baths, he should be able to wash himself and it make sit easier to accept their help when he can't see them... But Killer is also in the bath and that is fine... Maybe he will be fine with it?

Dust is silent and waits patiently as Nightmare thinks it over. Ngihtmare ends up nodding and turning around in the tub to be facing Dust instead.

Dust gives a small smile before focussing on his face as he looks at his sockets from different angles. as Dust stares at him Nightmare just looks back at Dust. Unlike Killer, who is mostly naked and with just his boxers on, Dust is still mostly dressed. Dust had only taken off his hoody, scarf and gloves. So Dust just sits by them in loose sweats and a shirt. Dust gives a quiet hum "Yeah I can see some mud in there. I am going to try and get it out okay?" he looks at their basket of bathstuff and takes out some soft cotton swabs. Dust soaps them up before holdign hsi skull steady with a gentle hand by his skull.

Dust looks at him "Still okay?"

Nightmare frowns as he thinks it over. This should feel bad or dangerous. people near his sockets or skull is very bad news. But no panic or fear. He hums and mutters "it is fine."

Dust looks a bit surprised before grinning "Brave babybones." ngihtamre knows he is glaring at Dust but Dust just chuckles "okay. No eye lights."

Nightmare huffs but does as told. he turns his eye lights off and with them goes his side.

The darkness does make him nervous but he still feels the steadying hand of Dust on his skull. He hears Killer whine and mumble about unfairness and that he wants the spa treatment as well. And that Dust is so unfair to not give him one as well!

the cotton swab touching the inside of his skull and near his sockets is weird. It doesn't hurt but it is still weird. His hands shoot up and he grabs Dust's arms.

Dust freezes "too much?"

Nightmare shallows and forces the words out "It is okay..." he just.. needs this... just a reminder. it is okay.

Dust mutters softly "I will be careful."

And as he said he would. He is. careful and slow movements. with purpose. And It does feel better! discomfort and itchiness he hadn't been fully aware of just disappears with each gentle movement.

"That was it. You can turn on your eye lights again."

NIghtmare needs a moment to get his magic to respond and get his eye lights to return. It is brihgt for a moment but even his sight seems better than before!

Dust grins "There. Almost all clean."

Killer grins and leans over the side of the tub "Which means it is mine turn!" causing a big wave to splash over and for Dust to now have wet pants.

Dust looks down before shooting him a glare "You did that on purpose."

Killer gasps and puts a hand above his soul "me?! I would never! I am sooooo sorry for your pants!" he grins and winks "You could just lose them." and he wiggles his eye brows.

Dust looks very unimpressed and Ngihtmare agrees. Not one of Killer's best tries at flirting.

Dust just looks at Nightmare again "do you want me to clean your arms or do you want to do it yourself today?"

Nightmare frowns and thinks it over. He did his own pelvis and legs as always but it was harder than he remembers to get dirt and mud out of those spots. He just looks at Dust "Can you do it?"

Dust nods and starts getting the shower floof ready again. Nightmare holds out his arms and lets Dust do his magic to get the stubborn dirt out off his joints. Dust just seems to know how to do it as the dirt and mud easily disappears.

Dust nods and looks very happy with himself "There he is. All clean." he puts the bathstuff to the side and goes to grab the towel.

Killer whines again "come on dusty~ Please?" Killer grins as he turns around until his spine is against the tub and he looks over backwards over the edge with his skull upsidedown to look at Dust. It can't be comfortable. Killer grins "Please~ What if some of the stuff stays behind? What if I can't clean myself right?"

Dust rolls hsi sockets as he gets the towel and with an easy motions nightmare is out of the bathtub and wrapped in the towel. Dust pats him down carefully as he ignroes the whining of the adult behind him. Killer bemoans about this unfair fate and how he needs help from his friend and teammate yet Dust is cruel to not help him.

Nightmare is dry and Dust dresses him in his PJs. Dust lifts him up and shoots Killer a look "Don't destroy our bathroom whiel I am gone." and Dust leaves the bathroom.

They exit into their downstairs bedroom and Dust goes straight to their pillow and blanket nest.

Dust sits down and grabs a blanket and wraps it around him "comfy?"

Nightmar enods "yeah." Dust hands over his plushy and NIghtmare is quick to put her right by his side. Batsie is her name... Like the cow name Bessie because they are on a farm but with bat because... bat.

Not that it matters because Nightmare isn't going to admit he named his plushy.

Dust smiles at him "I need to go clean the bathroom and make sure Killer doens't drown and kill himself with his stupidity. Horror is-"

"right here." and Horror joins him. Horror smiles at Dust "Good luck with Killer. I got this."

Dust nods and leaves to return to the bathroom.

Nightmare moves his plushy around until he can use the wings to blanket him as well. trying to keep his hands free. horror hands him a plate and fork as he sits with him. Asking him how his day had been at his appointment.

nightmare eats and calmly talks about his day and all that happened. his soul calm and content after his bath.

--

Killer chuckles as Dust leaves wiht Nightmare. He should have actually cleaned up but come on! It was too much fun to hoke around with Dusty! Especially the tiny blush he had managed to cause!

Killer chuckles as he kicks the water up before leaning back to lay in the tub. Ah, baths are very nice. Maybe he should take more of them.

He just lays there to enjoy the water.

"Dont'drown yourself. Water and dust together make a mess."

Killer opens his sockets and grins at Dust who looks very unimpressed "I don't know. YOu seem fine with bathtime."

Dust rolls his eye lights "You know what i mean. Also get dressed weirdo. Have some modesty."

Killer grins and winks "oh? Is the most powerful monster shy about bare bones?"

Dust shoots him a look "Just clean yourself."

Killer leans dramatically over the edge of the tub "I can't~ What if i miss a spot? And how am I suposed to wash myself if i have to fully dress myself? I can't do both at the same time dusty~"

Dust crosses his arms as he glares at him. "YOu seriously still on about this?"

Killer grins "Sorry. can't." he leans forwards and shrugs his shoulders.

Dust lets out a long annoyed sigh "fine."

Killer blinks and looks abck at Dust as Dust calmly cleans the shower fluff of dirty water and puts new soap on it. "euh?"

Dust moves in his blind spot and a hand touches his shoulders and Killer just freezes.

He hand pushes him a bit forover and oh fuck. fuck... that.. that is that seem shower fluff on his spine and it feels so good and how are dust's hand so secure?!

He doens't know what to think. What does he do?! Why?! Why is dust washing him? Oh fuck it feels so nice? No wonder Nightmare always purrs up a storm after bathtime. Fuck keep in the purring. You are making this weird. it is just your homie giving you a bath that you have been asking him for! Don't make it weird!

He... hadn't realised how nice this was. this touch. Normally Killer is the one that hangs all over the others and starts contact. This is technically stuff that Dust started and it feels so nice is this what it is suposed to feel like?! Is it normal that Killer just wants to melt into the touch and wnats it to never stop?!

how is this so nice?!

Killer straight up had one night stands with others across the multiverse and that is NOTHING compared to how nice this is.

The fluff disappears and some warm, almost scolding hot how does Nightmare deal with this heat every bath and whyt does he like it so much? Goes over his back and spine.

Dust snorts and speaks "There. your spine and ribcage are clean now."

Killer glances back and Dust looks highly amused and smug as he collects the shower stuff. He puts it on the side of the bath before he gets up. He shoots him a look "The rest you should be able to manage yourself." and he leaves the bathroom.

okay while Killer is sad the contact ended he is also thankful that Dust left because there is a very very very obvious reaction to the touch and his boxers are not doing a great job hiding it.

What the fuck is wrong with him!?

*---------------------*

Killer having a bit of a gay panic. It was his turn. Also I have so little drabbles from his POV?! It is criminal

First Drabble Prev drabble Next Drabble

[imtrashraccoon]

This took me longer than I wanted but, not to beat a dead horse, I blame writer's block. It works out though because someone just reached two hundred followers! I hear she has a whiteboard up if any of you feel like participating...

@superbfirnacho Consider this a gift; thanks for being a good friend! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

Ivymare: Pirate Edition

Laughter and music echoed from the deck but Captain Nightmare was holed up in the bridge, pouring over a series of maps. He wasn't one to engage in partying but he wouldn't keep his crew from doing the same. Besides, they deserved to have some fun after how successful the last raid went.

The riotous party seemed to grow louder for a moment before once again fading into the background as the door was opened and softly closed. Nightmare barely glanced up from his desk as the intruder padded over to his side, after all, there was only one person on his ship who would so boldly approach him like this.

He was suddenly enveloped in a hug from behind. Although the action came as a surprise, he managed to stay calm and only stiffened up a little bit. Coming from anyone else and he would've pinned them to the table with his bare hands for even daring to touch him without permission but he'd grown softer lately.

"What do you want?" he growled quietly. He was a little annoyed at the prospect of being interrupted but it was hard to actually be angry with her.

"I want to know why you're hiding away while everyone's out there celebrating."

Nightmare sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Ivy..."

"Come on... Come dance with me, Nighty," she begged as she leaned heavily against his shoulders.

He huffed and half-heartedly attempted to push her off. "You wouldn't want to see me dance..."

Ivy's arms remained firmly wrapped around him and if anything her grip only tightened, allowing her to press her body up against his back. Nightmare silently cursed whatever gods had decided to vex him with such a bewitching woman.

Ivy was unlike any other being he'd encountered while sailing the Seven Seas. She was as beautiful as she was clever and she was also quick on her feet, unlike most people he'd had the displeasure of meeting. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain and softer than fine satin. Her hair was on the shorter side with a natural wave and perfectly framed the pair of stubby horns resting on the crown of her head. The only aspect of her that wasn't seemingly perfect were her eyes. Indeed, her left was a warm brown while her right was a brilliant green that reminded him of the first Spring shoots, but he found them beautiful regardless of their uniformity.

"Please?" she asked. "How about if I give you a kiss, hm~?"

"I... Damn it, woman. You can't just-" His protests were interrupted when she planted a soft kiss on his cheekbone.

"There, now you have to come dance with me~" she whispered.

He felt a strange warmth flood his cheekbones and his soul did a little flip at the gesture. He fought to keep a straight face and get his magic under control since he'd never hear the end of it if she realized that her charms had this much of an effect on him.

He hated to admit it but he liked it whenever she touched him. Since joining his crew, the icy shell around his soul had cracked, letting the warmth of her affections steadily seep in. A part of him feared the day when she'd inevitably shatter the defenses he'd built up over the years, but maybe she was different from everyone else?

Nightmare hummed softly and cupped the side of her face. He had to be mindful of his claws so as to not mar her delicate skin but he wouldn't dream of intentionally hurting her. He felt her smile widen beneath his phalanges and he'd be lying if he said touching her like this wasn't enjoyable.

Maybe he would humour her, just this once. It wasn't as if he didn't know how to dance since he'd had the opportunity to learn many of the classics growing up. He just didn't like the thought of dancing in front of people, let alone his rowdy crew.

He turned his face to nuzzle against the side of her neck. She always smelled so sweet, like a rare blossom from a far off land, even amid the scent of the ocean's salty spray. He hummed again before pulling back to look at her.

Before he could respond, his eyelight fell on a series of faint lines along her neck. She didn't have very many scars and the ones she did have, she'd mostly received from scuffles since joining his crew. The weird thing was that these lines were much too straight and clean to just be scars.

So then, what were they?

He didn't want to believe what he was seeing but he knew there was no mistaking it.

She'd deceived him.

She was no better than any other woman he'd encountered.

"Nighty? Is something wrong?"

His eyelight snapped to her face and he frowned. She was giving him a concerned look, which normally was enough to make him melt, but not this time.

He pushed her off, somewhat roughly, and turned back to his desk. "No means no, woman. I'm not coming to dance tonight," he growled through clenched teeth.

"Oh..." Ivy started to reach for him but stopped herself, letting her hand drop back to her side. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to upset you..."

He clenched his fists, barely keeping his anger contained. He knew she was probably upset at how harsh he'd been but he didn't care. He just wanted her to leave him alone so that he could think.

She seemed hurt and confused but didn't thankfully, was smart enough not to try pressing further. With a disappointed sigh, she turned and left the bridge.

He should've known this would happen.

He smacked his skull against the desk and let out a frustrated growl.

He remembered the day he'd found her. The crew had stopped at a small inlet to rest when she stepped out of the forest wearing nothing but rags. He'd kept his crew from hurting her, although only after she'd knocked Killer to the ground for getting in her face.

She claimed that she'd run away from an arranged marriage but the ship she was on had wrecked, leaving her stranded on the island. She hadn't wanted to talk about where she was from or who her betrothed had been but this wasn't really that unusual considering how many of his crew also had unfortunate backstories.

Nightmare was almost immediately smitten by her. Not only was she strong but she had courage to stand up for herself. She was also gorgeous in his opinion and seemed to have a sort of wisdom about her. He liked that. There were very few women that acted in this manner, so he'd allowed her to come aboard the ship and eventually he'd even let her join his crew when she'd more than proven that she could hold her own in a fight.

But it had all been a lie.

She was a siren. A pathetic parasite of the sea who only deceived and hurt the desperate.

He was just starting to think that she might be special, maybe even the one person who truely understood him.

He wouldn't do anything right away, not while a celebration was going on anyways. Instead, he would do what he needed to do quietly. It would be best, just in case she had gotten her claws into any of his crew as well.

Standing from his desk, he readjusted his coat and made his way to the door. His soul was heavy but his mind was writhing with anger. One way or another, he would find out the truth.

He stepped out of the bridge and scanned the crowd of revelers until his eyelight fell on the one person he needed right now. Thankfully, his first mate was quick to notice and soon made his way from the party to his side.

"something the matter, captain?"

Nightmare narrowed his good eye socket at Killer's jovial tone. "I need you to do something but not right this moment..."

~~~

"it's done."

Nightmare looked up as Killer entered the bridge. "Did anyone else see you?" he asked.

"nah, i convinced her to help me find something and then locked her in the brig. she was so mad..." Killer chuckled. "she probably just thinks i'm messing with her and will let her out later."

"And what if she convinces someone else to do so?"

Killer grinned and produced a key from his pocket. "unless they want to make a lot of noise by destroying the cage, they'll need to talk to you or myself."

Nightmare nodded before growing more serious. "You didn't hurt her, right?" he asked in a quieter tone.

"just her pride, captain."

"Good. Not a word of this to anyone until I talk to her or I'll make sure you won't speak again, got it?"

Killer nodded and mimed sealing his non-existent lips. "yeah yeah, loose lips sink ships and all that."

"I mean it," Nightmare growled.

~~~

Nightmare didn't venture into the hold until late in the afternoon. It was partially because he wanted to be alone when he confronted her but also because he felt conflicted about what he should do.

Ivy had been sitting on the floor but she quickly scrambled to her feet when he approached. Her ears twitched each time he took a step and by the way her eyes scanned his face he knew that she was anxious. Then, she smiled at him. It was the same cheery smile she always wore but he noticed it was a slightly strained this time.

"If this is your idea of fun, I'm not sure I like it. Cause I'm pretty sure this isn't how bondage usually works~" she teased.

Nightmare felt his cheekbones grow slightly warm but managed to get control of himself. How could she make such a joke now? Surely, she knew what was going on, right?

"Why would you hide something so important from me?" he asked quietly.

"Huh? I've never hidden anything from you, Nighty..."

He narrowed his eye socket at her and let out a low growl. "Do I need to throw you over the side to prove my point?"

Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply, but at least she didn't try to lie again.

"Why did you deceive me?" he reiterated his previous question.

She lowered her gaze and said nothing for what felt like several minutes. "I didn't have much of a choice but to deceive you... Not if I wanted to live anyways..." she finally whispered.

It was true that he had a ruthless reputation. He never hesitated to kill during raids and he didn't stop his crew from doing so either. At the very least no one could accuse him of discrimination since he killed men, women, humans, monsters, mermaids, and sirens alike.

"I hated being a siren. I just, I wanted to experience the world like everyone else." She hesitated for a moment before making eye contact again. "Think what you want, but my feelings for you were never a lie."

She spoke with conviction and as the seconds dragged on, refused to look away. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, threatening to overflow, and yet her determination held firm.

Nightmare broke first and looked away with a frown. He'd killed hundreds for less and yet he couldn't bear to do the same to her. Why was it so hard to hate her for what she did?

He moved closer to the bars and when Ivy didn't back away, he reached out to cup her cheek with his hand. He carefully wiped away her tears with his thumb as he scanned her face.

"My feelings for you were never been a lie..." he repeated.

[fortune-maiden]

HX Drabble

Someone left a very nice comment on my fic yesterday and this is what it inspired ;w;

It’s not the revenge in the end. He Xuan is satisfied with it. It may not have gone as planned but his family was avenged and the tyrant’s pedestal was shattered. He remembers him less and less every day. But he can’t move on. Not when there’s something even more vicious weighing him down that he dares not leave hanging. It’s his personal failing – he can never face his family so long as it remains. And with that, He Xuan shows up at Paradise Manor, ready to work. “My debt,” he snarls at Crimson Rain. “I will pay it back.”

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Hermione watches Harry carefully, studying him like a hawk. “And are you scared of him?”

Harry wants to shake his head no, but he looks down and avoids her eyes instead. “A bit, yeah,” he admits and takes a shuddered breath. “When I see his wand or when he’s close enough to kill me with his hands...”

When he looks at me like he’d like to kiss me. When he speaks in parseltongue, and I no longer know if he’s saying the weather is nice or that he likes my eyes...

"...I'm scared of him then."

Scared of Tom Riddle.

[kissatoru]

feminising the most masculine men is a full-time job and i’m dedicated!!!! here’s a sneak peek of a reiner fic i’m working on<3